FYP Funk

Protein Rich

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your stoner roomate Hugh had been telling you about this new expirimental pre workout he had been taking. He had started working out cause noone wanted to date him. He told you " I look super dorky and I'm not smart, so might as well do something about the thing I can change." The results were.... there... a bit more filled out shirts, his ass had a slight jiggle.

But then, one day, he called you to the living room. As you walked in you noticed his pants around his ankles and immediately turned around. "Yo what the hell man... put your pants on."

"Uhhh... oh yeah ... I will but look, I noticed some small text on the bottom of the jar, and... well look."

You turned back around, seeing him shuffle towards you, his pants still on the floor. He handed you the jar and pointed at where you should read.

"Advised to use with High concentrations of protein." You read out loud. You looked up at your roomie and frowed. "Okay, so what youre gonna eat alot of steak now?"

Hugh grinned and turned to the counter and grabbed a cup of milk he has poured. "Nah I'm just gonna mix it with this."

You rolled your eyes. "Hugh, milk contains calcium, not protein. Its good for your bones, not your muscles."

"Oh... but this isn't milk... well not from a cow at least." He said with a wink, before dumping two scoops of formula in it and stiring it.

"What do you mean?" You asked confused as he started to chug the whole glass in a single go.

Your eye widened as his shirt slowly started to strain against his chest. As the mixture was sliding down his throat, his body was starting to grow in every direction. His once oversized shirt was almost plastered on his massive torso.

The countertop was hiding most of it, but you noticed him slowly getting taller, his shirt riding up his midriff as he raised his arm to finish the drink. You slowly walked around the kitchen to see that his formerly skinny legs were now giant trunks of muscle, with a massive bubble butt to boot.

Hugh slammed the glass back on the counter and let out a massive belch. A cloud of protein powder and... oh was that...

"Cum, I used my own cum. Hassa lotta protein ya know." Hugh smirked and raised his massive arms and flexed. A whaft of sweat and weed spread through the room. As it hit your nostrils you started to feel a bit dizzy, your high functioning braincells coming to a screeching halt. You slowly began to make your way to Hugh and ran a hand down his sculptured chest.

He looked at you with a smile and pulled you up against him. "Ahhh this is what they meant about attraction. I get why they call it Bi-Pro now.' You barely heard him. Your hands had started to feel up his massive physique, squeezing every muscle they could find.

"Hey bro... you wanna look like this too? You wanna feel and smell amazing like me?" You slowly nodded and he grinned. He reached over to the counter and grabbed a spoonfull of formula and pressed it against your lips. "Open up bro, this is all for you"

You opened your mouth and let him pour the dry powder into it. He poured two more in before he closed your mouth and you immediately swallowed. It went down surprisingly easy.

Hugh then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "I'm gonna give you the time of your life bro." He carried you into his bedroom, and threw you down on the mattras. He pulled of his tight shirt, and you could finally appreciate his full stature. His massive pecs were dripping with sweat, and casting a shadow on his slim waist due to them pushing out so far. His sculpted abs and hard V-Line were gistening in the sun that came through his window.

Your eyes traveled down to his groin and you saw the largest dick you have ever seen. Now granted your heterosexuality didn't really make it so you had seen many, but his was one of remarkable size. He smiled softly and leaned down to take off your sweatpants to reveal your strained underwear, damp in precum. "Goddamn... it really works. You know, I have always wanted to hit it off with you, but you were so straight, I wouldn't dare ask."

He leaned down even more and put his lips around your dripping bulge. You let out a stifled moan as you felt his mouth nibble on your hard package. Before you could do anything else, he turned you over and turned your tighty whities into a make-shift jockstrap by tearing open the back, revealing your bare ass. He chuckled and groped his rock hard python. It was glistening with pre, which hes scooped up and lathered on his thick index finger. He then started to probe your hole with his lubed up finger, and gently began to enter. You couldn't help but moan and squirm. His singular finger was almost enough to send you over the edge, and the thought of his massive dick entering you, added on to that, creating a vicious cycle of edging you couldn't seem to get out of.

After your hole was sufficiently loosend, Hugh climbed ontop of the bed and pressed his thick member up against your hole. "Im gonna go in now baby, let me know if it hurts."

You nodded, biting down on a pillow. He then promptly plunged his whole length into your ass, making you scream in overwhelming pleasure. His rod hit all the right spots inside of you, and he hadn't even started thrusting yet. As he started doing just that, your whole body started to squirm. You had never bottomed before, but somehow you knew exactly how to make your boyfriend cum. Wait... boyfriend... what...? You wanted to disagree with your weird new thought and memories, but your brain still hadn't restarted, so you just giddily accepted this turn of events and continued riding Hugh's dick.

His rough hands ran across your slim back, sending shivers down your spine, which made your hole flex. You could hear Hugh whisper behind you: "Fuck... im gonna..." and you quickly started to move your ass on the rhythm of his thrusts, speeding up the process even more. Hugh groaned: "Fuck... wait baby ... shit I'm.... I'm gonna cum". As those were exactly the words you were hoping for, you continued milking his dick as you felt his dick twitch inside your hole, which send you over the edge. A few ropes of cum shot on the sheets, and you let out a long moan as your balls were emptied.

"Fuck me... that was so good Hugh" you looked over your shoulder to see Hugh with his eyes shut, biting his lip. "I... I can't...HOLD IT!!!". And with that Hugh's massive balls emptied their huge load into your hole. Rope after rope, thrust after thrust hit your insides, the warm liquid rushing into your stomach.

Hugh just kept shooting, and from the feeling you got you knew he wasn't shooting blanks, but... you didn't feel full. He had been shooting for at least a minute, every release at least on par with the previous one, sometimes even stronger. But your stomach felt as if it had just began getting filled.

Then, you felt a rumbling in your cum filled stomach. You looked down and saw your slightly pudgy stomach suck in. The soft rolls turned into rows of hard cobble, while your eyes widened shortly, before your mind completely accepted this change as well. You turned around on Hughs dick so you could more comfortably look at your changing body, and look your baby in the eyes as it happend. The rumbling traveled to your legs, which quickly went from small twigs to thick skullcrushers. Your feet grew a few sizes to match, and immediately started to eminate a similar stench as the one keeping you in a horny trance. As the rumbling traveled back upwards it passed your still penetrated ass, which quickly doubled in size. Hugh groaned again ass your new massive bubblebutt squished his hard rod even more. The rumbling continued upward, your waist slimming down some more, as your pecs began to drop. They started to hang, while filling up nicely with muslce. You couldn't help but run a hand across your massive tits, which were super sensitive to the touch. You gave them a soft squeeze and a loud moan escaped your lips. Your shoulders started to bulge outwards, fixing your bad posture and giving you a slightly intimidating stature. Your arms grew to proportion, which you admired by flexing your guns at Hugh. Your formerly smooth pits quickly grew saturated with a generous patch of hair, out of which came a familiar stench.

Your neck widened, and your traps started to slightly rise. Your face contorted as the rumbling made its way to your head. Your features began to bubble and shift. The acne practically fell from your face, while your big nose and braced teeth started to shift. Your nose shrunk, but broadened sligtly. Meanwhile your braces started to break off your teeth, revealing a perfect white grin. You parted your now plump lips and a massive thick tongue slithered out. Hugh grinned as he leaned forward, dick still in your ass, and started to make out with you, your tongue quickly asserting dominance in his mouth. Your dark brown eyes shifted to a cold grey. Your brows fixed themselves, thickening somewhat and grooming themselves to perfection. Your hair ruffled itself, a short but slightly messy style, a stark opposite of the usually slicked back style you had. A slight tingle in your arm made you part lips with Hugh , just in time to see your new tattoo take shape. As a final touch your milky white skin got blessed with a sunkissed tan, which fit your new more outgoing personality.

As you two layed there, revealing in the afterglow of another successful fuck session, Hugh climbed off of you, and smirked. "I fucking love you Theo... "

You chuckled. "I know ,mi amor, now hurry , you don't wanna be late for class"

Hugh grinned as he grabbed his tight T-shirt from the floor, the sweat pants that you had just worn , and some flipflops that were next to the bed. He quickly put them all on and grabbed a joint from his desk, which he promptly lit and blew a cloud of musk in your face.

"Alright T, I'll see you after class, don't smoke everything we got"

You stifled a laugh. "Wasn't it you who smoked all of our last supply'

You could see Hughs face turn red in the dim light of the room.

"Shaddup.." You let out a bellowing laugh, and you took the joint from between his fingers.

"Vamos, Hugh you're stalling, you're gonna be late"

Hugh smiles and blows you a kiss, before grabbing his back and making his way to the door. "Love you!"

"Te amo!"

You smiled as you took a long drag of the joint, your brain never turning on again in your dimly lit stoner sex den.

_________________________________________

Hugh rubbed his small pouch as he walked to class. He loved a quick fuck session with his boyfriend Theodore, especially before class. It gave him just enough focus to get through, even when buzzed on weed.

As he walked into the lecture hall, his phone buzzed. He saw a snap chat notification from Theo. As soon as he opened it all blood rushed to his dick. There he was. His boyfriends perfectly sculpted, columbian body, perfectly seated for a teasy thirsttrap.

"Fuckk..." Hugh covered his massive bulge as he quickly went to the back, ready for an in class jerk session.

The Boxers

Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm so sick of having to be responsible for other people. I just wanna be a stupid cum-gushing stoner himbo.

It's my fantasy to have a special strain of weed that everytime I smoke, it permanently bloats my balls, making them permanently overproduce so much cum and testosterone and making me so horny that I can't even think, doing my IQ and reducing me to a gooning pothead himbo.

Advent Calendar - December 6th

I never really thought of myself as the adventurous type. With my head buried in algorithms and codes, my life as a computer science student at the local university was anything but exciting. That is until today, when I stumbled upon something quite out of the ordinary in my holiday advent calendar. The traditional chocolates had been replaced by unique surprises each day, and today's treat stood out - a small pouch filled with weed that emitted a strong whiff of peppermint, it also looked a little bit like a Christmas tree which was a nice touch.

Intrigued by this unusual find, I cautiously inspected the contents. Now, I'm not completely unfamiliar with weed; I had tried it once in the past out of sheer curiosity. I vividly remember the mellow high and occasional giggles that followed. However, this peppermint-scented variant was an entirely different league.

The scent was intoxicating, to say the least, creating a wave of both bewilderment and curiosity. I had never encountered anything like this before. As I held the pouch, the peppermint aroma seemed to cast a spell, drawing me in further. With a mixture of doubt and intrigue, I found myself pondering over the unusual effects this strain might induce. Could it be stronger, more potent than anything I had tried before?

With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I decided to smoke it. As the peppermint-laced smoke filled my lungs, a wave of unexpected sensations began. The scent was indeed hypnotic, drawing me in further with each breath. At first, there was just a faint tingling sensation around my groin, subtle but undeniably present. Then, as if out of nowhere, a surge of raw, intense horniness exploded within me.

I wasn't prepared for the intensity of it, the way it seemed to consume my thoughts and make everything else fade into the background. It was as if my mind was being clouded, the once sharp edges of my intelligence dulled by the overpowering wave of desire. At first, I fought against it, trying to hold on to my rational thoughts even as they slipped further and further away. But the horniness was relentless, its grip on me tightening with each passing second.

The urge to give in became overwhelming, the promise of mindless pleasure too enticing to resist. Gradually, I began to succumb to it, allowing the primal instincts to take over. The initial struggle was replaced by a growing sense of surrender, my once sharp mind now shrouded in a blissful fog of arousal.

As the intoxicating effects of the peppermint weed took hold, my body began to change in ways I couldn't have imagined. Firstly, my arousal seemed to intensify with each passing second. It was as if a never-ending surge of lust pulsed through my veins, making the simplest of thoughts clouded by explicit images and urges. My pupils dilated, the once sharp edges of my vision becoming hazy as if I was perpetually lost in a state of pleasure-filled daze.

But it was the physical changes that truly took me by surprise. I could feel a heavy weight starting to form in my groin, the unmistakable sensation of my balls beginning to swell. They grew larger and heavier, sagging prominently with the sheer abundance of cum and testosterone they were now producing.

Every step I took, every movement I made, the swinging of my heavy balls served as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. And the precum, it seemed to flow endlessly from my overproductive cock, a relentless stream of sticky pleasure that coated my skin. The feeling of it was velvety smooth and enticing, a constant tease that left me wanting more.

Physically, the changes were becoming more pronounced. My once lean frame was now taking on a different form, the slight musculature of a stoner replacing the skinny build of a computer science nerd. The well-defined lines of my arms and chest hinted at a subtle strength, a result of the relentless munchies and munching I found myself indulging in. My body, once devoid of any real muscles, was now adorned with a lanky, lean physique that exuded a distinct aura of musky arousal.

As the weed's effects continued to exert their hold, I could feel my once sharp mind becoming clouded, the complex thoughts and academic knowledge gradually slipping away. In their place, a singular focus emerged - the relentless pursuit of pleasure. Every thought, every action revolved around this basic instinct, the once intricate workings of my intellect replaced by a primal simplicity.

 "Mmm, I like...feel good," these were the words that now dominated my thoughts, a simple and crude expression of the all-encompassing desires that filled my blank mind. I could feel my once extensive vocabulary dwindling, the complex sentences making way for a more straightforward, almost childlike manner of speech. The once intellectual discourse was replaced by a single-minded repetition of basic needs and desires.

I reached down, my large hand gripping my thickened cock, slick with the constant flow of precum. Each stroke felt like a jolt of raw pleasure, the kind that bypasses rational thought and goes straight to the primal core. I could feel the weight of my heavy balls, their persistent sag now serving as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. My other hand wandered over my lean torso, the subtle strength of a stoner evident in every curve and line. I leaned in, inhaling deeply, my nostrils filled with the unmistakable scent of pit musk - a heady mix of sweat, weed and testosterone that served as an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

As the haze of the weed clouded my already dulled mind, my actions became solely focused on pleasure. The relentless edging sessions, the hours spent in a state of mindless bliss were a testament to this singular pursuit. Each touch, each stroke was a worship of the changes that had taken over my body, a celebration of the unrelenting desires that now defined me.

I gooned hard, the hours blending into a continuous loop of raw pleasure. My once sharp mind was now a blank slate, every rational thought replaced by a simple, crude need for mindless pleasure.

Finally, I could feel it building, a relentless wave of pleasure that seemed to emanate from the very depths of my being. Each stroke, each touch was a step closer to the edge, the promise of release hanging heavy in the thick, hazy air. And then it hit me, I finally succumbed to the ecstasy of release, a jolt of pleasure so intense that it seemed to shatter the very fabric of my senses.

The first rope of cum erupted from my overproductive cock, the force of it hitting me like a physical blow. It was thick, creamy, and unrelenting - a relentless stream of pure bliss that coated my skin in its velvety warmth. I could taste the saltiness of it on my lips, the earthy aroma of musk serving as a constant reminder of the raw eroticism of the moment.

And it didn't stop, the waves of pleasure were continuous, each climax more intense than the last. The cum, it seemed endless - a testament to the overproductive nature of my heavy, sagging balls. It dripped down my body, a tantalizing tease that left me wanting more. Each wave of release was a crescendo of pleasure, the world around me fading into nothingness as the singular focus on my pure, unadulterated ecstasy took over.

With a primal need, I scooped up the thick, creamy cum that adorned my skin. Each finger that dipped into the smooth texture was a deliberate motion, a way to prolong the raw pleasure that the simple act evoked. I could feel the weight of the cum in my mouth, the taste a heady mix of salt and - thanks to the weed - an unmistakable pepperminty sweetness. It was something I savored, each deliberate movement of my tongue a celebration of the raw eroticism that now defined me.

As I lay down in the puddle of my own cum, the surrealism of the moment hit me. And as I succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep, the relentless high of the weed and the lingering taste of my own cum served as a lullaby, each sensation a promise of the raw pleasures that awaited.

—————

As a side note I really fucking hate tumblrs porn ban, I’ve had to delete 3 pics already from this story just to get it live

The strange rancid stench coming from the lockers was extreme enough for the school to shut them down and call in some cleaners. But he left an old book bag inside he didn’t want trashed. Opening the locker the musk hit him strong. Instantly his brain went numb and he watched amazed as his body got hot and bigger. He couldn’t help but flex and groan seeing himself growing sexy by the second. Screw the book bag, his mind was all about muscle now. He smelled fucking great and he knew a few pathetic friends who could use a good sniff.

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!

Putrid Profession

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

Destination Unknown

Jared cussed. His alarm didn't go of so now he was going to be late for work. He had just seen his tram leave right before he got to the doors.

He sat down on the bench as he grabbed his phone to call his boss to let him know he would be late. Before he could send dial he saw a tram slowly approaching him. Frowning Jared slowly gets up as he grabs his card to check in.

The tram stopped perfectly in front of him, and Jared gets on. He walks to the driver. "Ehm, excuse me, is this tram Going to the city Centre stop?"

The driver laughs mischievously and nods. "We take you to wherever you need to go."

Dumbfounded by the weird cryptic answer Jared sat down and looked around. The inside of the tram was a light pink, the seats have frilly cushions, and a faint rose scent permeates around the inside of the car. Two other guys are sitting a few rows behind Jared. Both are wearing similar clothes to him, a buttoned shirt and dress pants, but where you wore perfectly tailored clothes the other guys seemed to have washed them a bit too hot. The clothes were tight around their thick arms and their buttons were fighting for their lives.

Jared turned back around and put his headphones in. Not his fault people don't know how to buy clothes.

After a few stops Jared shifted in his seat. Grimacing he looked down to see his shirt looking a bit tighter than it was supposed to. Rubbing his stomach he felt a slightly more tense response than he was used to. He scratched chin feeling a bit of stubble, which in retrospect wasn't very surprising due to him not having time to shave in the morning.

Looking out of the window he noticed he was nearing his stop so he got up and walked to the nearest exit. Looking across the car he noticed two new guys sitting in the same spots as the two dudes that were in there before. They were very out of place in this princess pink tram. Their muscles were massive, pecs shelving, biceps bulging. They were eyeing eachother hungrily as the tram got to a stop. They looked up at you and both smiled with their perfect pearly whites.

Shuddering Jared quickly got off. He sighed as he stepped into the cold December air. While walking to his office, Jared felt his legs grind against eachother in a very uncharacteristic way. Looking down his pants seem to be hugging his legs a bit tighter than before. He brushed it off to it being do to having to leave in a hurry and shortly after got to the office.

The day went by in a blur. His colleagues congratulated him on multiple occasions on his physique, which actually got him more self-conscious than ever before, mostly due to the fact that he did not work out in the slightest. After a few hours he had enough of it and went to the bathroom to check.

As he looked into the mirror Jared was shocked to see his face more angular than he remembered. His jaw was sharp and there was a noticeable amount of scruff on his face. Looking at his body he noticed his arms tight in his shirt, similar to his legs.

"Oh... my... god..." Jared's face flushed as he noticed the obscene bulge his pants were containing.

"What is happening to me..." Jared thought out loud. His mind went into overdrive. Was it an allergic reaction? It couldn't be. He didn't have the time to eat anything he didn't before. Unless he's allergic to too much sleep that wasn't it.

The only conclusion left was...

"But that can't be..."

The tram. The weird ethereal, rose smelling, pink tram. Jared grabbed his phone and on his way back to his desk, searched online for any hits on "Pink tram transformation". The rest of his day was spend on browsing the web. At the end of the day he had finally found a hit. Apparently there was an urban legend where a pink tram will take you wherever you want in life. People would exit it changed in some way that would propel them in the right direction in life. A few warnings on the thread about people also going missing didn't seem to alarm Jared as he looked at the way to summon the pink tram. "You just have to be very adamant on going somewhere."

After going home Jared devised his plan. He had a day off tomorrow, so he had time to spare. So he would go to where no one has seemed to go before. The end of the tram.

______________________________________________________________

The next day Jared waited at the station for the next tram to arrive. He figured the best way for the tram to come would be after the regular one to have just left. After the last tram left, Jared closed his eyes and wished.

"I want to get to the end of the pink trams ride."

Like clockwork, he heard a tram approaching. He opened his eyes and saw the pink tram. Full with glee he entered the Tram. He saw the driver eyeing him up and down with a smirk.

"Welcome back"

"Thank you, there's no limit to how long I can ride this tram right?"

"No sir, we are glad to have you, please take a seat and enjoy the ride."

Jared smiled and made his way into the car. Looking around he noticed a handsome guy sitting alone and he decided to test something else. He sat down on the opposite side of the tram of the guy and looked him in the eyes.

"Hey, I'm Jared, where are you going?"

"Oh, hey, I'm Bruce, I'm just on my way to work. Funny story I missed my regular tram, but then this one showed up almost right after."

Jared grinned. "The same happened to me yesterday. Have fun!"

And with that Jared got up and walked to the back of the tram.

He kept an eye on the guy who seemed very enthralled into his phone. Slowly but surely, with each stop, Bruce's shoulders seemed to broaden out. He also seemed a bit taller and have a bit more scruff on his face, but before more could change, he got off.

Jared sighed. He wanted to have a bit more fun. Before he could linger on it though, he realized he was man spreading. He looked down. His legs, which he smartly had clad in baggy sweats, were twice the size they were before. His shirt was almost bursting at the seems with his pecs already pushing the limits of the buttons. Jared got up and ran a hand across his bulked up torso.

"This is insane! I'm massive!" Jared smiled and walked to the door, ready to get off. But the tram kept going. Not only that but it sped up. "H-hey I want to get off!" Jared yelled to the driver.

The driver got out of his cabin, slowly walking to the panicking man. "You wished to arrive at the end did you not?" The man got closer and closer. Jared's jaw dropped as he noticed the drivers physique. He was massive. Clad in leather, his muscles rippled underneath his clothes. A devilish smile appeared as he reached Jared.

"We will arrive shortly, time to speed things up a bit" The driver snapped his fingers and the Tram started to speed up more. The man smiled as the tram began shaking heavily. Each shake send a ripple through Jared's body. Every ripple pulsed his muscles bigger. His ass jiggled as it got bigger and bigger. His bulge began to strain his pants, his balls churning.

"W-wait... please." Jared moaned. He dropped to his knees, eye level with the drivers groin.

"W-who are you"

"I'm a long forgotten being, a god of pleasure and depravity. I ride this tram for my own fun, and I seem to have found my next play thing."

The man ran a hand through Jared's hair making his locks fall out, leaving a neat buzzcut. He grabbed his chin, more scruff appearing.

"By entering this tram you enter a contract with me. By exiting you fulfil it. You decided to stay on so you are now mine. Which means I get to do with you whatever I want." The god smiles, lighting a cigar and blowing the smoke into Jared's face. The smoke flows into his mouth and nose, making his head foggy. Slowly Jared feels his sense of self escape by blowing out the smoke. Looking back up at the man in front of him he sees the mans cock hanging out of his pants , an alluring scent wafting from his large rod and balls. Without a second thought he takes the whole length down his supple throat. With each bob of his head, Jared loses more and more of his identity. Before long, nothings left. a blank slate. As soon as the last drop of Jared leaves him, the man shoots his load into the young mans throat. As the cum fills his mouth, so does the new persona fill his mind. Jay looks up at his divine daddy, smiling as the salty substance fills his stomach. Warmth spreads all over his body as he begins to expand.

His chest fills with thick muscle and hot liquid, slightly sloshing around. His balls churn as more and more testosterone gets pumped through his body. His pits begin to emanate a subtle musk, while his feet are now permanently moist. His ass balloons out, lifting him more, pushing more and more of the mans dick into his mouth, which has grown longer in the time that Jared has drained out of him.

Slowly taking out the engorged rod from his Trophy boys mouth the man smiles. "I am Kama, but you can call me daddy boy, now rest."

And with those words, Jay falls unconscious, having reached the end of the trams ride.

______________________________________________________________

In the days that follows, Jay spends his time working out, and working as an assistant at his Daddy's office. He seems to be the owner of a large multi-faceted brand called Rakurai Inc. Its perfect for him. He only has to think of fun things to make men into fun boys. No hard thinking because most of the blood is spend in his massive rod. Oh right, Daddy is almost on break better send him a picture.

Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

Surfin' The Years Away

Wade reluctantly follows his boyfriend into a new thrift shop. After trying on some old surf shorts he is blasted into the past. With each passing moment and stray thought he's body and mind molded into the King of this mid-century beach.

What better time for a surfer TF than Winter huh? In season for any Aussie/Southern Hemisphere readers I might have haha! At any rate, Hope you enjoy this little time travel TF, got a cowboy TF coming next ;) Best ! -Occam

Wade and Dylan don’t know how they’ve somehow overlooked the vintage shop on Main Street until now. Wade’s more than happy to make a note of it and come back later, quite eager to get out of the cold. But when Dylan pulls on his sleeve and begs they check it out, “We’ll just be in and out babe-” the driver acquiesces with a grumble and turns into the small parking lot.

Before the engine’s off, Dylan hops out of the small car and sprints inside in search of some theoretical hidden gem. Wade sees his sigh in the icy air before he knew he released it. Longing for the end of the winter he trudges carefully along the icy sidewalk behind his happy-go-lucky boyfriend. 

The woman at the counter pages through some old magazine of vintage clothing while Dylan raids the racks. Wade eyes the cluttered store as he fights back a sneeze from the dusty shelves. Quite the eclectic shop, certainly not a store with a specific market in mind. What can only be leather fetish gear hangs on the walls next to some army surplus gear and in between are rack after rack of pastel skirts and oversized vintage suits.

He hears his boyfriend squeak in excitement as he pulls two things off their coat hangers. “Wade! Look~ Bell Bottoms!” He holds a pair of something more akin to boho pants up to his waist and poses, “Aren’t they just 60’s chic babe?” Queen that he is, Wade opens his mouth to question or debate when exactly they became vogue, but before he has a chance there’s a glimmer in Dylan’s eyes as he pulls out a piece for Wade to judge.

“And I found these for you babe!” Stretching the string waistband with a wink, Dylan produces a pair of surf shorts that are surely a few sizes too large for Wade, who remains ready to leave. Responding to a complaint not yet uttered Dylan raises a finger to silence him and continues, “C’mon just try ‘em on Wadey! You can tighten them all the way up, this way if you keep up on your gym plans they’ll be perfect for your beach bod!” 

Wade grumbles and reaches out to grab the shorts. Though he’s loath to admit it, he’s surprised at how right they feel now that they’re in his hands. Pursing his lips he doesn’t acknowledge the strange sensation. Wade shakes his head in shock as after a moment holding them, he’s filled with an urge to strip then and there to throw them on. Blushing at the strange thought he keeps silent and allows himself be dragged towards the two shabby dressing rooms in the back of the store.

Dylan, holding his bell bottoms and a vest Wade didn’t see him pick up, does a little pose before dipping into the changing room on the left. Ready to be done and slightly on edge from his intrusive thought, Wade enters the curtained space opposite. Like any other of the millions of dressing rooms throughout the country there’s a mirror, a small mounted bench, and spot to hang up your clothes. What is less expected is the bizarre silence that overtakes him as he steps past the curtain, as if he were in a recording booth.

Holding his shorts he forcefully assumes it’s just his ears popping and he’ll be right as rain any moment now. It’s anyone’s guess as to why the sound of Dylan’s humming as he changes into his little outfit is totally muted by two hanging sheets of fabric. As far as Wade is concerned his boyfriend has simply decided to go quiet, willfully ignoring how out of character that is for a man as uncomfortable with silence as Dylan is. Faced with this strange supernatural quiet Wade feels himself begin to understand the discomfort.

The man’s two feet away, Wade should hear the shuffling of clothing if nothing else. Hackles officially raised, Wade starts to investigate, though before his hands can reach the curtain he’s struck with a migraine and thought that’s not his own blaring in his head, It is of no concern, I should change into the surf shorts. Lip quivering the shorts are already in his hands as he turns back to the mirror.

His reflection flickers as his pants fall to the ground, goosebumps soaring up his legs from the shock of losing their cozy covering. Unwilling to acknowledge whatever horror must lie in the mirror he forces his eyes shut as his body moves of its own accord to pull the baggy shorts on. When he feels them cinched and tied on his thin waist he opens his eyes, holding fast to the idea that everything is fine, must be fine.

In the mirror he finds his reflection as it always is, tacky swim shorts notwithstanding. He looks exactly as he should. Wade sighs in relief before he notices that he’s not out of the impossible jungle yet. What is different is the room in which he finds himself, the curtain now striped, a harsh bulb hangs above him, the small bench replaced by a damaged wooden stool. 

Taking time to rationalize how he’s gotten these details mixed up, as is the only explanation, he sees a shimmer in the bottom of the mirror. Looking closely he sees a spark slowly panning up. When it reaches his feet he sees them slowly begin to darken, tanned by a sun they’ve rarely seen before they begin to bulge and lengthen. Seeing feet more akin to swim fins than what he knows he has he yelps and jumps away, getting tangled in the rough curtain before spilling into the vintage store’s hallway.

Dumbfounded, Wade scrambles to the floor and sees the vintage store is no more. In its place is what appears to be a cabana. Large windows show a bright beachside summer day, a far cry from the frigid world he knew it should be. Before he can pinch himself awake he flinches as some surfer bro gestures to his shorts and shouts, “Eyy Wade! Lookin’ killer brah!” 

Refusing to engage with the world he’s found himself in, Wade beelines to the tall, tanned, muscular man who addressed him by name and asks as his eyes start to tear up, “D- Dylan?” The surfer’s eyes focus in and his mouth closes into a look of shock before dropping into a slack jawed, “Whuh?” and settling on a smile as he laughs and ruffles Wade’s hair, “‘S Ray dude, you know that ahahah!” 

Ray? Wade rubs his eyes as he tries to remember if he knows a Ray, though really he doesn’t think he knows any surfers. Ray. With each searching thought comes a creeping sensation. The name feels right? It feels more at home, more familiar in his head, as if he’s thought of the man thousands of times. Ray. Yeah, he knows Ray, how could he not. Looking at the man standing opposite him, blushing at the tan pecs at his eye level he is struck with countless memories of watching him on the waves. Cheering on his, brah? No that can’t be-

“Should take your shirt off too Wade, show off for the ladies eh?” Ray flexes and Wade narrows his eyes, okay well that’s enough of this dude. He then slaps his forehead, what’s he thinking he just needs to call Dylan, obviously. He quickly runs back to the changed-changing room and arrives just in time to find his pants shifting into vintage shorts, quite like the pair he now wears. Swallowing his fear he reaches into the pocket for his phone, though the only thing he produces is a beaten up wallet and his car keys, now missing their fob.

Putting forth great effort to steady his breathing he checks the wallet to find a similarly damaged driver’s license unlike any he’s ever seen. Gone is the plasticine card he’s carried for years, replaced by some water stained, taped together laminated bit of paper with a signature sloppier than he’d ever use scrawled under his name. His eyes refuse to look at the date of birth as he opts to sprint back and confront Ray.

His feet pound hard on the few steps back to the cabana’s lobby, heavier than they had any right to. With each careening step they widen and lengthen racing to match the wretched paddles he saw in his reflection. Their soles roughening from what must be years of walking along dingy beachside sidewalks, perfect for sticking to a waxed board. “Okay dude, Ray, whatever your name is I’d like my phone back. I don’t think this stupid little prank is funny.”

Ray pauses mouth hanging open, its default state apparently, as he processes whatever it is that Wade must be whining about. He tilts his head and smirks a stupid smile at the clerk that Wade only just noticed, “Hear that Mabes? Wader over here thinks you had a phone in the changing room! Hah!” 

She rolls her eyes before turning to address the clearly apoplectic newcomer, “Wade I don’t know what your deal is today-” she pauses to look him up and down and groans, “God! How many times do I have to tell you guys, if you’re going to come in at least throw on shoes. No one wants to see your disgusting little feet.”

Ray performs indignance at this, throwing a heavy arm around Wade’s shoulder, though he shoots higher than he should as if he were expecting his bro to be taller than he is, “Now Mabe, babe. You won’t get me defindin’ the cleanliness of my brah here, but little! I’ll have you know he’s got the best board huggers this side of San Fran!” Wade narrows his eyes in confusion as whatever is going on is clearly beyond and beneath him. Though as Ray finishes speaking, the smaller man grunts as his feet cramp.

Looking down, Wade discovers that, alongside the world around him, he too has begun to change. His feet have clearly already grown, Dylan always poked fun at his small shoe size, but now they have grown beyond measure. Wade recoils in shock as they balloon once more, toes stretching further as his soles bulge wider.

They seem so large that he wonders where he’ll be able to even get shoes that big. Eyes flickering back and forth he figures he’ll just have to order them on Ama- uh? Wade’s eyes glaze over briefly as he loses his train of thought. His head pangs with pain as the idea of online shopping starts to fade. Surely they have catalogues for extra-large shoes or something, he’ll check with Ray later, yeah. Ray’ll know.

Speaking of, Ray and Mabel have continued arguing. Wade is unaware that as he was lost in his own mind, his new surfer bro has continued to defend him, and with each complimentary phrase Wade has begun to inch taller in height. Speaking of waves conquered and tubes bodied, Wade catches the tail end of one particularly exaggerated story as his mind begins to fill in the details. Back stretching and calves slowly bulking as he clearly recalls bailing from his board. He grunts again as he surges taller, thighs slowly bulking up as his new height exposes a pale midriff, attracting eyes from both of the spatting pair.

Finding he has their attention he clears his throat and begs, “Look, I don’t care about any of this-” Ray recoils in shock, “Can I borrow either of your cellphones so I can call my boyfriend?” Their eyes widen at the brazen use of boyfriend though the friends are well aware of Wade’s proclivities, what actually causes the strange stares is his asking for a cell phone. “Brah, did you hit your head or what? You know the cabana don’t have a phone.” 

Wade shakes his head, he doesn’t know that he doesn’t care, “Sure! Whatever!” he reaches out, “Can I borrow your cell phone.” Mabel and Ray eye each other once more before breaking out into laughter, “Shell phone? What are you on about dude?” Wade stares back with absolute shock and derision before his vision goes spotty and his head burns with a rolling headache. His hippocampus physically pulses as his mind and memories are rewritten.

A cell phone is foolish? A dream. A phone you could just up and carry anywhere? Science fiction. And yet he can almost picture a small black mirror in his hand. Embarrassed from their laughter and determined to not let this fact of reality be erased he continues to stare at his hand as if he’s trying to will one into existence. Unfortunately the only change that he notices is his skin bulging as his hand flexes larger, a few scars blanch from years on the beach as his hands struggle to keep up with his advancing height. One could almost hear his bones cracking as his fingers lengthen and grow calloused while his fingernails lose their polish, grow dirty, and shorten

He pounds the cabana counter and Mabel clicks her tongue, “Okay let’s cool it buddy, you wanna make a call Ray’ll take ya down the street.” She motions to the door with her head and Ray escorts him out, “Come back when you’ve worked out whatever this is on the waves huh Wade?” she pouts as she watches the pair go, taking care to stare at Ray’s defined back with a smile, then she snickers and whispers to herself as she gets back to her magazine, “been watching too much Star Trek I bet.”

Ray’s chipper as ever as he leads Wade out of the cabana, unknowingly more comfortable now that his arm rests closer to where it should after Wade sprouted a few inches. For his part, Wade finds himself distracted by the wild blue sea. Waves rise and crash into foam and he’d swear he could feel the bubbles, the surge on his skin. Like a dog staring at a treat he fights desperately with the urge to sprint across the sand to enjoy it right now.

In fact, his thicker feet begin their plodding to a surf wagon nearby with a couple boards stowed before he’s stopped by a question from Ray, “You wanna take your shirt off so you can get some sun brah? Lookin’ a little pasty there.” Wade shakes his head and tries to disregard his words, though as his mind continues to be assailed by a hunger to surf he gives up the ghost on the shirt battle and reveals his pale weak chest to the world, “s- sounds radical. I’l uhh, catch some rays. hah”

Ray starts to laugh at the pun but instead grimaces as the sight of Wade’s small pasty torso is incongruent with the reality that he knows to be true. Though with a mind accustomed to shrugging off strange ideas and problems too big to worry about he quickly throws his arm around Wade’s shoulders slowly growing wider. “Well let’s getcha to a pay phone so you can call your buddy!” 

Wade rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as the pair head down the boardwalk. He can scarcely focus on the increasingly rapid changes occurring to his body and mind as he’s still distracted by the sound of crashing waves. As the Summer Californian sun beats down on him, his skin starts to darken, closer to the shade Ray recognizes as Wade. Spreading forth in patches he tans to the customary surfer brown, ushering forth from surf shorts that aren’t quite filled and up past a core that is only now getting defined.

So too does his hair suddenly start to lighten. Lengthening into something sun bleached and salt stained. His usually clean-cut look begins to giveaway as the life he knows he should have is slowly eroded, just like the ebb and flow of the waves calling out for him. Pecs beginning to form darken and shine with sweat under the beating sun as he dreamily stares at the sea. Though despite it all, despite true real memories of life in the twenty-first century slowly fading like a mirage, he still remembers his time with Dylan clear as day. To this he holds fast as he stumbles forward from his heavier upper body.

As he continues to grow into this new form, molded by the alien world of the past around him, he begins to notice other surfers and beachgoers eyeing him with familiarity and nodding with respect. After his bicep bulges larger from returning a few shakas, he bumps his shirtless body into Ray to get his attention like he's done a million times. Finally tearing his eyes away from ogling scantily clad women, Ray tilts his head as Wade asks in a tone clearly affected by the thickening neck and shifting disposition, “Hey brah, er- Ray? Am I like, a big deal?”

Ray looks dumbly at Wade as his irises change to match the deep blue of his quarry before laughing, “Hah! Such a cut-up today brah! Course everyone knows you, you’re always ripping! If anyone needs any tips or tricks they come to you.” Wade clenches at his head as years of memories and knowledge rush into his mind. Equivalent to the sensation of bailing on his board into the choppy sea, he’s drowning in visions of showing off on the waves and taking care to help anyone who so desires to join him in enjoying the spray of a set. His chest puffs with pride and puffs larger with pecs as his jaw widens and now-blue eyes roll back. He’s the king of this beach. And just like that, as soon as the words, the idea, cross his mind he’s overwhelmed and pulled under. 

He awakens laid out on a bench somewhere down the way, he hears the Beach Boys playing through some static nearby and opens his eyes to see Ray’s face painted with concern, though as soon as he hears Wade speak up he returns to his usual happy-go-lucky expression. “Gnaaarly dude- feel like I just woke up for the first time~” The new surfer then coughs up some sea water which he finds as strange, he wasn’t surfing was he?

This small quibble with reality acts as one final life preserver to the life he once knew. Just odd enough for him to question his situation, his reality. For a moment he stares at his tanned, veiny hands and questions is this who he is? Trailing up arms patterned with sun-bleached blonde hair and briefly hung up on the quarter-sized nipples poking off a thick chest. He scratches his stomach, for some reason expecting to find a bit of a belly, his fingers instead bump against tight abs.

Unfortunately his last grasp at the future is haplessly wasted as he’s almost immediately distracted by Surfin’ U.S.A, “Ugh-” he chokes out in his now perpetually fried, laid-back voice, “Why’s this dad rock playing?” Ray laughs and helps the man up, “Maan Wade you’re on a trip today, first goin’ on and on about selling phones and some enter-net! You know your dad hates the Beach Boys! Ahahah” With this paltry grasp his past self is evermore washed to sea, Ray’s recollections sound just as strange to Wade as they did to him and Mabel. 

Even the explicit mentions of cell phones and the internet isn’t enough to prevent the rubber band from snapping as decades of lived experience with future technology is wiped from his mind. Memories of the modern world thoroughly displaced by life sprinting across the sands and mooring the foundations of surfing as a continental sport. Just as Ray has done countless times today alone, Wade smiles dumbly in brief reflection on his life lived.

 Going forward on rare occasions some fragment of his other self washes up to his mind like jetsam. Sometimes when he sees a record he can’t help but wonder if they’ll be smaller one day or he’ll reach for something in his pants out of habit when he has a question to ask, before shaking it off like a strange tic. His crew often labels him some kind of prophet as he seems almost too keenly aware of how global events will shake out.

“I swear brah, gettin’ me worried that your new guy’s slipped ya somethin’” Ray says with a wink. Wade flinches with a start, that’s right! He needs to call Dylan immediately! Putting change in a pay-phone like he’s done all his life he dials a number he knows by heart and holds his breath, begging the universe that Dylan will answer the other line as the ringing tone vibrates the receiver, and then his miracle is answered. 

Sounding as if he’s discovered cloud 9, somewhere across the town his love, Dylan, answers, “Heyyyyy, ‘s this Wadey?” The sound of his voice fills Wade’s thicker chest with comfort, “Dyl! God it’s so nice to hear you…” He stands there for a few seconds, only then does he notice how tight his swim shorts have become from his bulking thighs and building ass. Though of course, the most prominent issue at the moment is the rising dilemma in front. He blushes and bites his lip as he tries to speak with more discretion, “You uhhh, down to come over to ours later today?” 

He can almost hear the smile of the man on the other line, “Uhhh yeahh, yeah… Me ‘n my uhhh freaks are on a trip righnow. But yeaaah, think I could swing by baby” Wade can almost see the man on the other line, delighting in the feeling of his fingers twirling the phone wire in his hands, certainly too high to work out a time but Wade doesn’t mind. The promise of a future fuck and time together after is more then enough, “Righteous brah, well I’ll see you then Dyl.” His lover just giggles and the pair hang up at the same time, bonded tighter than ever despite their strange unknown journeys apart. Sighing in delight and ignoring the pulse in his pants, Wade turns to face his brah.

For the first time Wade throws his arm around Ray’s shoulder as the pair wander off towards his wagon. Ray gestures for him to try and mask his clearer than anything erection though the surfer just shrugs, “Oh sure dude, as if anyone ever misses your goose eggs you little horndog.” The pair guffaw and continue to tease eachother as they start back towards Mabel’s cabana.

 Glimmer in his eyes and too eager to not speed up, Wade hits his bro on the back and challenges him on a race to their boards. His new legs carry him faster than he’s ever managed before. Settled into his new life the feeling of his feet pounding into the hot sand fills him with contentment. There’s no place he’d rather be than soaring across the beach while his crew watches.