“Oh My God! You Too??? Jesus What Happen In This House?” Said Edward, Shocked To See His Fraternity

Skater Stench

Inspired by Anon Ask

Clay was walking to work on an empty street, looking down at his phone he suddenly saw in the corner of his eye someone quickly moving towards him. All of a sudden, just as he was looking up from his phone, some dude on a skateboard crashed right into him knocking the both of them down. As the skater bro laid right on top of him Clay heard the guy start profusely apologizing, “Oh my gawd duuude im so sorry like I wasnt paying attention at all!”. Getting up first the skater held out his hand to help Clay up to his feet, looking down at himself Clay realized that his outfit was ruined from the fall. As the skater pulled him up Clay began to berate the guy, “How stupid could you be?! Some of us have actual responsibilities like work and I cant show up looking like this!”, etc etc. The skater obviously annoyed that Clay was getting so heated over an accident tried to apologize again, “Look man I am real sorry I-” Clay cut him off “I dont care if you’re sorry! How exactly do you plan on fixing this?!” The skater tried one last time to amend the situation “Look we got off on the wrong foot Im Apollo.” he held out his hand inviting Clay to shake his hand. Clay pushed Apollo's hand down and again just was insulting and berating the guy. Tired of this douchebag yelling at him Apollo furrowed his brows and pushed Clay back down to the ground. Falling on his ass Clay yelled out “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!”, Apollo responded “Dude you definitely need a reality check, i'm just helping give it to you”. Quickly turning around so that Clay was looking right at Apollo’s ass, Clay was assaulted with the stench of Apollo’s obviously unwashed ass “You smell so fou-” “PPPPPPFFFFBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT” Apollo interrupted Clay with a boisterous butt blast. “What….the…fuuuuuuuuck…” Clay said as the eggy stench that Apollo just shot into his face began to make him feel weird. Clay heard as Apollo said “Sorry man but I really think you need this” “FFFFRRRRTTT” another gust was inhaled by Clay. “...this…feels……wrong…” Clay was having an even harder time speaking than before. Turning back around and squatting to get face to face with him, Apollo held Clays head in place and told him “Look bro im gonna change you okay? You are gonna be waaaaay more chill once im done” Apollo watched as Clay gently nodded his head. “PPPPPPFFFBBBTTT” Apollo let out another fart and watched as Clay’s light brown pupil turned into swirling green spirals.

“Good boy” Apollo cooed out to Clay. “Skaters enjoy farting out rank clouds of gas, its the funniest thing to us” “FRAAAP” Clay felt as his nose began to like the fetid smell that was filling the air around the two boys. “Skaters don't mind getting knocked down, it’s part of skating” Clay felt as his anger and annoyance towards the fact the Apollo knocked him off his feet quickly rushed out of him. “FRAAAAP” those feelings quickly rushed out of his ass, producing a disgusting stench Clay would have normally been grossed out by but for some reason he found the meaty smelling fart humorous. “Skaters dont mind wearing ripped up and distressed clothes, in fact they like it” “FRAAAAP” Clay suddenly felt that his clothes were actually pretty cool, his temper would no longer rise if he was seen in ripped up clothes. “Skaters like spending their days skating and fucking other skater bros, its the best way to live” “FRAAAP” Clay’s mind grew lighter as his previous responsibilities evaporated into a smelly fart and were replaced with the desire to waste his days skating around and making his skater bros feel maximum amounts of pleasure. “Skaters are dumb mindless idiots whose brains have been replaced with their own ass stank” “BRRRRAAAAAPPPPP” Clay watched as Apollo recoiled due to the malodorous fart Clay just produced, feeling even more light headed than ever Clay began uncontrollably chuckling, “huhuhuhuhuhuh…” Apollo stood up and held out his hand and helped Clay up to his feet. Letting out one last fart Apollo watched as Clay’s eyes returned back to normal and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “How you feeling bro?” Apollo asked, “huhuh I feel… BRAAAP- sniff sniff gooood” Clay chuckled out. “What are you doin today duuuude?” Apollo questioned Clay, “Uhhhhhh skating…duhhhh…what else would I pfffbbbtt be doin?”

Ever since Ryan was gifted a pair of HIMBOCO’s newest earbuds, he has lost total control of his life. He no longer had to think or make decisions. He just had to do what they told him to do. He had to workout. He had to flex. He had to get musky. He had to fuck. He had to obey.

Man-Candle

Under the guise of a gag-gift Chad gives his bookish friend a candle based on his own b.o. Little does Stephen know, as soon as he lights the wick he sets off to join the jock in sweaty abandon.

Very musk forward Jock TF! Hope you enjoy this story of Stephen's scent-based (new)self-discovery, Best! -Occam

His ears ring with tinnitus as he opens the gift. It’s as if an explosion has gone off as he tries to process the pancake in his hands. Everything in him says to laugh, it’s clearly a gag gift, a Man-Candle? His mouth is dry and all the blood in his head rushes to its other epicenter as Stephen looks up, eyes wide, to the man who by all appearances has given him a candle of his own musk, Chad.

His cocky grin is a perfect likeness of the one on the candle’s label staring up from Stephen’s lap. Chad’s expression grows even smarmier as he winks and raises an arm to smell his pit. Stephen’s face burns red as he sees the clear patch of grey that must have been fermenting all morning, his cock bumps against the package.

Chad’s eyes shoot immediately to the sound and his smirk shifts and an eyebrow’s raised in curiosity, excited that his friend must quite like the gift. Stephen speaks up quickly, lest the two brain cells bouncing around the jock’s skull stumble across any ideas, “What the fuck?” The first volley, bounces off Chad’s steel confidence. The second “what the fuck,” causes an eye narrow as the idea that this may be a misstep finally occurs to him, the third repetition of Stephen’s new mantra apparent gets through through Chad’s thick skull.

The jock’s arm remains raised to scratch his back and Stephen’s cock is more than happy to see the grey patch return and his mind must remain focused on not staring directly at the few pit hairs sneaking above his sleeve. Chad clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean bro… Chicks are always talking about how they love, huh- y’know,” he gestures to the air around him, “my aura. Just thought, you know, uhhh- a dude like you might too?”

The jock braces as he sees Stephen’s eyes narrow as he clearly winds up to somehow lash out. Unfortunately for the twink he takes a deep breath to start and is hit with the full force of the man’s ‘aura,’ it catches him off guard and underneath the package his cock pushes again. Stephen grits his teeth and averts his eyes as he tries to hide his desire, “Chad! Those are people you’re sleeping with! I’m just- This is-” Stephen does everything in his power to quiet his lust as he finishes, “Why would I want this?” 

Chad tongues his cheek and juts his stubbled jaw. Scratching his meaty stomach in thought, Stephen can hear the hairs dragged underneath the jock’s tight shirt. Making up his mind Chad decides to speak on the elephant, or moreover the trunk, in the room. Nodding to the gift poorly hiding Stpehen’s erection, Chad shrugs “I mean bro, seems like you’re enjoying it just fine.” 

“Jesus Christ, fucking straight men!” As unfortunately turned on as Stephen is from the gift and the hunk he has long tried to not be attracted to, at the highlighting of his out of control cock he finds the will to defend his paltry dignity. Though instead of speaking up as his mind is not running on all cylinders, his hands instead reach for anything not breakable to hurl at the man still smirking.

Pillows fly at the man as he continues to try and explain his thoughts, “Yo bro! Watch it-” he grabs one to use as a shield against the continued volley, “I mean I can take it back if you want!” Stephen’s dreams of salvaging dignity perhaps fall to the wayside as this remark causes the hardest throw yet. Chad smirks behind the pillow and finally gets to the door, “Whatever dude! I’ll see ya later! Once you’ve cooled off a bit-” 

Chad stands behind the closed door with a shit-eating grin on his face, straight men huh. Awfully dismissive of the bi jock’s identity but whatever. He listens to Stephen huff and unbox the candle through the wall, unaware that the real gift is to come when he finally lights that bad boy up. Whenever the pair get drunk enough it always devolves into Stephen wishing he’d hit the gym more and Chad begging for his friend to join him. He’d love nothing more than a gym bro he can fuck, and soon enough, unless Stephen has the strength to nip his blue balls in the bud, both wishes are to be granted.

It does not take long for already riled-up Stephen to give in to his curious urges. As soon as the scent of Chad in the air dissipates and he hears the front door of his apartment close, the countdown begins. Stephen stares at the obnoxiously smug photo of Chad on the candle and narrows his eyes, “I mean surely it’s a bit? It can’t actually smell like him specifically? Seems hm, expensive to do.” 

He bites his lip as he shakily goes to remove the lid, driven by a mind less than conscious and more than hungry. Mouth on the precipice of watering, as soon as the seal is cracked the scent washes over him like a tidal wave. Somehow more powerful, more alluring than the real thing. Rich and grimy, and indisputably the essence of Chad distilled into waxen form.

His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is now pooling with drool. It's anyone’s guess as to how the candle gets lit, but so it does. Stephen falls back onto the couch as his hands struggle to free his cock quick enough from pants that force it down at an awkward angle. It finally bounces free, flinging more pre than he’s ever produced upward. Droplets land just shy of his own face as his mouth falls wantonly open and his hands begin their gleeful work.

The creation of Eau De Chad was not light work, the boiling down of man into a single candle is quite the ask. Perhaps even more so than the transformative magic that it is to instill in Stephen. Within the candle are notes from every musky epicenter of Chad’s being, more than powerful enough to distract Stephen as he begins his journey into a musky jock’s shoes himself.

Foremost of the mind-numbing notes that the lost man is bathing himself in is perhaps the one he’s smelled the least. As strong as in his jock after a workout, sweaty pubes and dripping pre. The medley of scents from Chad’s crotch is so powerful that even without clearly even knowing the source it’s on the tip of Stephen’s tongue, much like he would dream to have on his tongue in reality.

Each breath pulling him deeper than the last, Stephen continues to paw at his cock now free to the open, musky air. With each kneading thrust his hands struggle to encompass his dick as it begins to change. Years of pushing down primal desires for his friend, the Adonis, evaporate into the air as he pictures himself working Chad’s cock. Breathing and licking the heady swear straight from the source.

He imagines working the larger man’s spit-covered cock and with each new image in his mind his own beast begins to reform. Dripping more pre than he’s produced in his life up to this point, his hips thrust into wanting hands as his dick thickens and spears high into the air. Lengthening to press against his sternum, veins bulge and criss-cross across its length as its head regrows a foreskin he never had the chance to enjoy.

When his smaller hands, unable to truly satisfy or encompass his new rod, shift down to try and cup balls bulging larger and pumping him full of masculinity, he hears them scratch against the new jungle of growing pubes. Though the jock tries to keep his chest relatively hairless, under the belt hair growth is wild enough to more than make up for it, and as Stephen begins changing into his new musky lover, he seems to be of the same persuasion.

The candle wick flickers as a new scent begins to rise in prominence. This one Stephen recognizes all too well, though usually poorly masked under cheap deodorant, the scent of Chad’s pits could never be truly hidden. His mouth waters as the scent washes through him and his whole body contorts in pleasure. When his own pits begin to itch he gasps and for the first time opens his eyes to find an impossibly large cock hanging over his thin thighs. His mouth quivers into a smile as the line between dream and reality shifts muddy.

For now though, for the pit fiend there is only one thing to do. He raises his arm and gasps as he sees his few pit hairs lengthening, while in between each one a few darker curls make themselves at home. Stephen forces his head into the sweaty spot and hungrily sniffs. Nose tickled by the growing jungle he moans as he encounters his own changing scent, currently overcoming his own, usually superfluous, deodorant it is but a pale imitation of Chad’s. Though it races to be something equivalent, no, greater. 

He continues taking deep breaths, switching between the candle burning strong and his own pit as his musk continues to heighten and shift. With each needy sniff it becomes clear that his odor is not the only part of him shifting. Previously undeveloped arms cramp as muscle begins to pile on. Veins pulse down their center as biceps that have scarcely known strain burn as muscle fibers break and reform to create an impressive peak.

Stephven’s face suddenly contracts into a smirk that he never quite understood before now as his arms force themselves into a pose. Flexing and exposing his newly hairy pits in what he now knows as a front lat spread, he almost laughs as his heady powerful musk begins to overpower the scent burning off the candle. 

Having not actually left the apartment, Chad puts an ear to the door as Stephven’s laughter and moans rise in volume and deepen in tone. He creaks open the door and is almost physically hit with the wave of musk as it pours out like a fog from Steven’s bedroom. His own brand mixing with the steam of sweat seeping from his new bros pits is almost more than he can handle. With every step his mind strains to not just give into his own hunger to pounce on his half-formed bro sitting in the chair. 

Hearing Steven’s socks fray and tear as a subtle note of foot funk rises to the top of the candle. Seeing his new partner’s legs fill his young-professional pants to their limit, bulging thighs pushing at and swiftly bursting the strained seams. Chad bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his own thighs cramp. He doesn’t know if he’s somehow growing as his new gym bro continues to edge larger or if he’s simply overwhelmed, if his own mind is too clouded from the hunger and musk.

Chad shambles towards Steven, mouth falling open as he sees the shimmering sweaty traps that have torn his shirt open. His eyes can’t look away from the newly heavy pecs that hang over his defined abs, he fights the urge to lean down and lap at the muscle as Steven delights in bouncing them. Sending cascading shadows across his sweaty core, and gaining more mass with every dancing flex.

 Instead, Chad leans in close to Steven’s delirium painted face. “Looks like ya liked my gift after all, huh Steve?” His breath mists across Steve’s face. Its heavy humidity barely overcomes the sweaty atmosphere but the sharp mint and undercurrent of musty breath underneath call to his nose like smelling salts. 

His jaw cracks and widens as the changes that have overtaken him finally begin their work on the final frontier. Unable to control himself Chad licks the man’s face as it prickles with stubble. Steve’s nose breaks then reforms, his brows thicken and cast a shadow over his eyes as they lose both their color and clarity. Deepening to brown as their default state becomes glazed and thoughtless.

Feeling Chad’s sticky tongue drag on his cheek, it’s like he was struck by lightning. Every new bulging muscle in Steve’s body flexes at once and he stands to his new height, able to make direct eye contact with the man staring at him, just inches away.

Steve tackles him onto the bed, knocking over the candle and sending wax flying through the air. The pair are sparingly coated in the Chad scented candle as they begin heavily exploring Steve’s new form. As their mouths that have always been left wanting find new delight, whatever shreds of the old Stephen that are left begin to vacate.

The anxieties and priorities of a small meek man who never let his id loose disappear as he positions himself over Chad. He bites his bro’s lip and thrusts downward as he pins the massive man’s hands above his head. Masked by the pleasure of true release, he doesn’t care as his old self washes away. Memories evaporate like the sweat pouring off his form. He delights in maneuvering across Chad’s form and enjoying his musk from the source.

His tongue dances across sweaty pecs that match his own as his collection of classics on a bookshelf disappear to be replaced by free weights. Steve’s nose finally shoves its way into Chad’s pits as his extensive collection of hygiene and beauty products down the hall clatter to the floor and disappear as they’re replaced by a single bar of clinical deodorant only used for special occasions. Sleeves fall off his wardrobe of cardigans and button ups as sweat stains yellow every garment. The tops throw themselves from hangers while musty shorts and jockstraps heap into a pile on the floor.

Sweat drips from his brow as with each thrust into Chad his mind gives up the ghost. Each impossible wave of pleasure erodes his old self, each drop of sweat an idea gone, each rivulet of pre dripping down his veiny cock a sign of his intelligence drained to increase the muscle mass of his new form. After all besides pleasure nothing matters to him nearly as much as his fucking hot bod.

He feels his balls pulse as every remaining aspect of Stephen’s self shoots down and is quickly converted. His eyes roll back as he cums the few specks of self remaining in a massive load onto Chad’s sweaty abs. After a few moments of total mindlessness from the jubilee of release, Steve awakens to find himself atop his bro and simply laughs, “Huhuh woah dude that’s a fuckin’ fat load huh?” He scratches at his hairy chest and grimaces as he imagines how that’s going to hide his gains.

Seeing the thoughts on his face as the two are evermore on the same wavelength Chad pauses rubbing Steve’s cum onto his abs and offers, “Lookin’ a little rough there bro, wanna go top up and then hit the gym?” Steve smirks as his bro basically reads his mind, “Yoooo totally let’s hit it!” He punches down into his bro as he stands, smirking as he watches Chad’s cock bounce before sprinting into the restroom and prepping to get pumped.

The gym starts to clear out as the pair arrive, judging by the musk already following in their wake no one dares risk having to smell what it’s like once they actually start going. Stopping in the locker room the pair stop publicly groping and sniffing each other long enough to take a pre-workout photo, tongues out as ever. When they see some poor soul who didn’t escape the gym quick enough covering his nose they eye each other up.

“Yo dude, looks like lil’ bro over there’s gotta problem with your stink.” Steve performatively sniffs his pit and shakes his head, “Nahnah bro. It’s definitely yours, check it.” They continue to talk up eachothers musk while the young man can’t help but sit there, stunned into silence. With each new statement the pair swagger closer until their sweat may as well be dripping on the man.

Gasping as he regains awareness just as the pair are almost standing over him, the sharp intake fills his lungs with their musk as a smile creeps over his face. “Looks like lil bro’s likin’ it after all Chad.” Throwing a sweaty arm over his bro, the man who can scarcely recall that his bro hasn’t always been like this laughs, “Huhuh, well obviously bro, no shot anyone’ll be able to resist us soon.” The pair help the hazy man up and begin ushering him through the ropes, eager to have another musky jock in their image and excited to see how far their little group will grow.

Hey man , I’m your typical good guy , with a good engineering job etc . I’m so tired of it . Can you help me live more of a dangerous thug life ??

"I wish I lived a more dangerous life."

You’re heading out the front door to go to work when the genie walks by. He’s a thuggish guy with a sneer on his face, covered in tattoos. With a flick of his hand, the spell is cast. You feel a sharp pain on your lower belly, and when you pull up your shirt to see, there’s a tattoo there, faded like you got it months ago.

Well, you think to yourself, you never specified how much more dangerous your life would become. You tuck your shirt back in, a bit disappointed.

As you sit down on the bus, you feel another stinging sensation rise up to the base of your pecs. As it does, the fabric of your shirt seems to dissolve until you’re wearing a high crop top. It reveals a tattoo of butterfly wings growing over your chest. As it rises higher, the fabric of your shirt parts and eventually dissolves into nothing.

Some young guy in a suit sitting next to you frowns at your shirtlessness, and you bare your teeth at him. He backs down immediately. Yeah, you can be fucking threatening when you wanna be. Still, he’s kinda cute…

As tattoos of a nebula stretch down your arm, you slowly reach out and put your arm around the guy’s shoulders. At first, he seems confused and disturbed, but he calms at your touch, giving you a goofy grin as his suit dissolves. Tats bloom across his body, and his hair frizzes up with streaks of bright pink through the dark locks. His tongue piercing looks so hot as he lolls his tongue out at you, you just gotta kiss him.

When you step off the bus with your new buddy, the two of you have complementary sets of tattoos and matching shorts. He follows you into the nearest alley and gets on his knees. Like your tattoo says, it won’t suck itself. After you drop a load, the two of you step onto your skateboards and head off to find some more members for the gayest new gang in town.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

The Fog

Felix knew he shouldn’t go outside, it wasn’t safe. All the news stations in the area were constantly broadcasting that a fog has swept into the valley and since it appeared four days ago people have been going missing. The rumor is that there are monsters in the fog, people can hear groans and grunts out in the fog but anyone who has gone to explore where they are coming from has been consumed by the fog and hasn’t come back out. The weirdest thing of all is that the fog is green, its a light green color that has a lingering stench which has been slowly filling the house Felix is holding up in. Felix was with his girlfriend at her place when the fog came through, he was going to just head home after it cleared but it has been days and it hasn’t let up. At one point Felix was just going to walk home, given that he lived only a twenty minute walk from her place, but when he opened the door the fog started to rush in and fill the foyer with a rancid smell. Quickly closing the door he moved away from the stench, but that was two days ago and he needs to go take care of his cat, his roomate normally does when he isn’t home but with people going missing he can't be sure that anyone is there to watch Mittens. His girlfriend pleaded with him not to go out but Felix gathered all his stuff anyways. To make her feel better, and truthfully to make him feel a bit better, he went and found a face mask in her bathroom. Now ready to go he headed over to his place promising to return, he would come back with some food and water, and Mittens, if all goes off without a hitch.

During the walk which felt like it took forever, as he wandered through the thick green fog that limited his vision to just a foot or two in front of him, Felix could constantly hear the groaning and grunts that the news stations mentioned. They were accompanied with sounds of metal clanging and what sounded like deep, dull laughter. Luckily the entire journey was uninterrupted, Felix made it to his apartment in perfect condition. Coming up to the lobby of the building Felix could see that the glass doors were smashed and the fog filled the common area. Worrying for his furry friend he hurried over the shattered glass on the floor and through the lobby to the stairwell, not wanting to take a chance with the elevator. Walking through the lobby he heard it again, a low, guttural groan that sounded closer than all the others he heard on the way over. Looking around fearfully, he saw a huge monstrous sized man stretched out on the floor stirring in his sleep. Hastening his step Felix made it to the stairwell and rushed up the stairs to the fourth floor.

Coming upon his fourth floor apartment he was struck with a sense on confusion as he went to unlock the door to find it was left a little ajar. Quietly going inside, he sees the kitchen is much messier than normal, there are clothes all over the floor, and half the shoes on the shoe rack are at least a size 13. Searching around for his cat and trying to make as little noise as possible he comes up to his roommate's closed door, about to open it without thinking he looks down quickly and sees wisps of the smoke coming out of the room. Not wanting to reenter the fog, Fleix leaves the door closed and heads to the bathroom to continue the search. As he searches high and low in the bathroom, unbeknownst to him, the roommate’s door opens and Felix’s roommate comes out to find the source of the noise that is disturbing his nap. “What are you doing in my apartment pipsqueak?” Felix hears from behind him, “Andy! Thank god you're here! I can't find Mittens anywhere!” Felix says, turning around as he mentions Mittens. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Felix blurts out having turned around and been met with a huge hunk who is big enough to look like he could have eaten his roommate and smells like he just farted his roommate back out…

“Broooooooo” Andy groans “Who are you? This isn’t your place mannnnn. And why are you looking for Mittens? Mittens is my boyfriend's cat.”, “This IS my place and you don’t live here! I think you are in the wrong place!” Felix says scared to death of the huge stranger just a few feet away. “Huhuhuh you sound just like my roommate bro, you kinda look like him too, just…ya know he is more like me” Andy tells him, completely ignoring what he just said. “Eh whatever” Andy shrugs, “I think it’s time for you to go” Andy starts moving forward and reaches out to Felix. Felix tries to duck from the outstretched hand but his lithe movement doesn’t best the giant’s brute force, grabbing Felix by the shoulder Andy pulls Felix away and out of the bathroom and starts towards the door. Being pulled closer to the hunk Felix catches more than just a whiff of his funk. Between gags Felix pleads “PLEASE! PLEASE! NO THIS IS MY APARTMENT I NEED TO FIND MY CAT!” feeling pity on the weakling he is holding Andy bestows mercy upon Felix. “Uhhh okay sure you can look for your dumb cat but I'm gonna just stay here and watch.” Andy says audibly annoyed. Without saying a word he began looking around again for Mittens hoping he can find her before this reeking giant behind him loses his patience. After about ten minutes of looking, the entire time he can hear the hunk constantly fiddling around, making sounds of annoyance, and chuckling every time he belches out a blast of bad breath. Felix finally ends up in his roommate's bedroom, being the last place to look.

As Felix searches around in the blinding fog he finds the source of it, Andy left his window open and the fog has just been filling the room for days now. Mittens probably got out through the window. He starts to worry he wont find his cat. Felix hears the hunk clear his throat and say to himself “I'm bored, I want my boyfriend.” Felix feels his large sweaty hand grab the nape of his neck once more and before Felix can say a word he lifts Felix up and rips the mask off of him. “NO I NEED THA-“ Buh-UUUuuuuurpppp

The hunk belches right into Felix’s open mouth. Being completely caught off guard by this show of masculine power, he gasps in suddenly filling his lungs with the dense, stinking fog and the giants horrid breath. Immediately having a violent coughing fit from the unnatural scent that has just penetrated into his body, the giant drops the scrawny bro to the floor. Felix can't help but inhale more fog as he tries to stop the coughing, as the fog fills more of his lungs it slowly also begins to fill the rest of his body. It fills his feet enlarging them so that they’re able to hold up a mass of muscle like the one who has just subjected him to this torture, his legs grow massive and muscley as his ass begins to inflate along side his legs. Felix’s hole begins to loosen up and his cheeks grow in respectable, hairless, beach balls that lightly clap behind him with every step. In the front a transformation was also occurring, changing Felix’s long. cut skinny-boy-dick into a shorter but chubbier uncut, cheesy, schlong. Felix’s tummy changes just a little, turning from a tough four pack into a soft tummy perfect for filling up from behind or resting your head on after a sensual “exercise” session. Felix tried to grab his stomach as it changed, as if that would stop the transformation. As Felix clutched his stomach his chest began to inflate into soft pecs more akin to pillows than true pectorals. And his arms followed suit, expanding into fatty tissue more than muscled mounds, soft and pliable muscles that are still capable of lifting up boulders. Felix felt a wild itching sensation in both of his armpits at the same time, as he moved one of his small hands to hopefully cease the itching he was met with a forest of hair invading his once always shaven pits. Shocked by this he ripped his hand away for just a second. Immediately his hands, much like his feet enlarged, his fingers fattened up and expanded and his palms became hugely swollen compared to his previously dainty hands. Felix felt his coughing die down and thinking he would finally be able to catch his breath was again caught off guard by another coughing attack. All while this is happening, standing above the himbofying Felix is the hunk that started the transformation, watching silently and groping his own cheesy, unwashed dick. Felix in the grasps of his second coughing fit heard his nose crack and felt it shift into a new form, changing from a longer nose with a more rounded end into a shorter, flatter nose, perfect for sticking it into an unwashed armpit or smelly crotch. He felt his eyes become slimmer and his eyebrows grow more hair than ever, and he felt as his mouth transformed into a perfect set of teeth holding back a large thick tongue perfectly for cleaning the funk off of someone’s feet. Keeping the newly minted tongue and teeth hidden was a pair of lips inflating into the best dick sucking lips ever. Felix could feel his sharp, cut jaw expand into a squarer and softer jawline that melted into his ever growing neck that needed to match the intake his plump lips would now be inviting. The last change was his hair as it turned from cute light brown curls into a mop of dark brown hair that crowned Felix’s perfect himbo body.

Felix, unable to escape the coughing fit, felt a throbbing in his head as he continued to writhe around on the floor of the fog-filled bedroom. His giant hands moved to grasp his big manly head. The fog had finally begun melting away his brain. Seeing this happen the hunk hovering above him got between Felix’s thunder thighs and unbuttoned Felix’s khakis, suctioning his mouth onto Felix's unwashed himbo dick, the giant began to suck which alleviated Felix’s throbbing headache. For a second the thought came across Felix’s mind that this stranger shouldn’t be sucking him off like this, but just as quickly as the thought came to him, he felt it sucked down and out of his brain. He felt this happening for all the thoughts he kept having about what was happening to him, but all of them kept disappearing until Felix simply stopped thinking and let blissful stupidity take over his mind. Soon the stupidity began to encroach onto pre-existing knowledge, Felix’s knowledge of advanced mathematical formulas got sucked into his sack and replaced with knowledge of how to douche and knowledge of physics melted down into cum and instead was replaced with knowledge of how to move his ass and hips to make his bros cum quicker. Soon not a single intelligent thought would be left behind, all replaced with dumb, gay thoughts making Felix the perfect fucktoy. The last thought Felix would have was “Why do I know so much gay stuffffff…Does my girlfriend like this?” Before he could even comprehend an answer his memories would start to dissolve into his sticky white seed. His years spent taking advanced courses in school turned into every summer being spent in summer school, him taking his girlfriend’s virginity became his ass being filled for the first time by his boyfriend Andy, and the years spent training to try and be a D1 Soccer player turned into wrestling other sweaty guys for hours every day. Soon just like his thoughts and knowledge every memory would be lost to the sticky sea in his balls. As the pressure in his brain built to its peak Felix felt his hips begin to buck into his boyfriend’s mouth, soon all that was Felix before he was himbofied was churning in his balls and then shot into the smelly hunk sucking on his dick, his once bright brown eyes fading like his brain into a dim, dull brown. With that the dazed himbo lays on the floor catching his breath. Getting up first Andy reches down and grabs Felix’s hand lifting him up, and in one swift motion lifts Felix’s arm into the air revealing his armpit. Leaning in for a sniff Andy forces his nose right into the forest of dark hair. Only catching a whiff of cheap AXE body spray, Andy pushes his boyfriend back onto his ass and pulls his own sweatpants down revealing his ass. “Wha-?” PFFFFBBBBTTTTT Felix starts to say as he is met with a direct hit to the face with a potent stream of gas. Becoming super dazed Felix barely knows what just happened as he is hit with another, this time wetter blast BWOMPPFFFFF. Having his hair pushed back Felix feels the stench cover his entire body, assisted by the fog and ass blast Felix finishes the last part of his himbofication. Felix’s large feet are incapable of wafting off any scent other than the buttery funk that has corrupted all of his shoes and the scent of the apartment. The gas going into Felix’s body through his mouth and nose reaches Felix’s gut giving it the ability to release butt blasts and malodorous burps. His armpits fill in with the purest himbo-stink, which quite literally contributes to the fog's green hue and absolutely rotten scent.

“Heh-Heh! Babe your butt stinks something awfullll” Felix dully says. Pulling up Felix once more Andy smells Felix’s armpit and grimaces and then dim-witted laughter burst out “Huhuhuhuhuh! You smell worse than my farts on a good day right now babe!” Andy kisses Felix and lets out a little burp into his mouth as he does so. “Huhuh. We really should help spread the fog to some un-himbofied weaklings around town.” Andy whispered to Felix. Thinking hard for a second, it slowly comes to Felix, the address he just came from is floating around in his brain, “Huhuh, just follow me babe, I know a place” Felix says to Andy. They both leave the bedroom and go grab their shoes on the shoe rack, now all the shoes are a comically large size and all reek of movie theater butter and a teenager boy’s feet that haven’t been washed in months. Slipping on the shoes without socks to maximize their stink Felix leads the way out of the apartment.

Walking through the front door, you had no idea that your roommate had bought a bong. Frankly, you didn’t even recognize your roommate! The person that stood before you wasn’t the Jason you left that morning! Your normal, average, quiet roommate was replaced by a young, twenty something stoner with long brown hair and tattoos. Not that it bothered you any, he was kinda cute! 

“Hey, man. Bought a new piece today, and it hits like a motherfucker. Took the day off from work just to christen it! Wanna hit?” You hadn’t ever done marijuana before, and frankly, it kinda scared you. You sheepishly sauntered over to your table, smelling the dank weed waft from the gigantic bong. Strangely, you smelt something else… It was your roomie! He smelled like he hadn’t showered in a couple days, as if he smoked every minute of every day for a week! You could smell his armpits as you neared him, clearly a beautiful musk emanating from them. You always had a musk fetish, but your formerly clean-cut roommate always smelled like Irish Spring! Now, he’s chill as fuck, offering you a hit from a gigantic bong, and has that sweet musky scent about him. What a dream come true!

“Aight, so this stuff is called ‘Pandora’s Box. You know how to hit this thing, right?” You shook your head, causing him to whip out his Bic lighter and quickly ignite the bowl. He took a sizeable hit, and let it out in a huge cloud of smoke. The weed was clearly dank as fuck. When the thick cloud dissipated, you were shocked to see your roomie now had snake bites, an eyebrow piercing, and a tongue piercing. Before you could say anything, your roomie passed you the bong. 

You stared at the huge, dirty glass cylinder. The water was a murky brown, and specks of residue lined the interior of the chamber. Nervously, you stare at your roomie, who is sitting back in his chair, his eyes closed and face toward the ceiling. He was on cloud nine, and you were starting to get a bit jealous. Yet, you witnessed what happened to him. You knew that it could happen to you. You rolled the dice, and flicked the lighter.

A flame danced around the hole, as you brought the bong to your mouth and lit the bowl. The chamber filled with smoke as you inhaled, growing thicker and thicker. Your roomie awakens out of his high and chuckles. “Fuck dude, that is a big hit.” He pulls the stem out, and the grey cloud instantly disappears into your mouth. You slowly let the cloud out. Carried with it is all of your anxiety and stress, your worries and fears, your inhibitions and tightness; all exhaled out of your body. The huge cloud swirls in front of you, clouding your sight. As it dissipates, your roomie is staring at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You feel it, man? It’s dank as hell. It’s gotta be cut with something.” You nod quietly, rolling your tongue piercing around your mouth, and scratching your gauged ears.

“Dude take another hit!” Rocco nudges you, and you quickly hit the bong again. The bowl rolled, and filled the chamber once again with the thick grey smoke. This time, you swear you see glimmers of blue, red, green, & purple. You pull the stop out, and familiarly inhale the smoke. It really doesn’t taste as bad as the Molly you tried the other day. You let the cloud out of your mouth, the world around you becomes slightly wobbly and distorted. You rub your eyes with your fully sleeved arms, your proudly displayed finger tattoos seemingly move before you! You smile and hit the bong again.

“Shit dude, another one?” Rocco lets out a chuckle. “Save some for me!” You let out the hit, and stare at your boyfriend. His dopey demeanour just how you like it, relaxed and a bit confused. He runs his hands through your messy fauxhawk and onto your high cheekbones. You feel his other hand lift up your shirt and run across your rippled abs and pierced nipples. 

“Ay, hit this, so we can head out soon.” You smirk, knowing you had a shipment of Acid coming in tonight that will sell like wildfire. As your boyfriend takes the bong from you, you look down at your black, yellow, and green pot socks. You knew they stunk to high hell, as your size 13 feet were never seen without them on, but meh. Whatever. You pull one to your face and take a deep whiff. You smell the subtle but clearly evident musk emanating from them, mixed with the permanently stained weed smell: the perfect combo. I mean, what do they expect? When you tear up the halfpipe as sick as you do, you’re gonna get sweaty & smelly. It’s the nature of things, so why worry about it? Your trashed red Vans smell worse anyway.

Later that night you pick up your shipment as planned, and immediately sell $6000 worth of prime acid tabs. The first thing you buy? More of Pandora’s Box. Sharing is caring, ain’t it? You pull up your phone and begin to dial.

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..."

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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.

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*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.

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*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".

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*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.

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*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..."

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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..."

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

A new bunny in the gym

My roommate Ryan has always been telling me I need to loosen up and stop taking life so seriously. Maybe he's got a point. While I spend all my time in the library studying he spends it at the gym or having fun at the club, and being bisexual he never has a probably finding a fuck.

I finally relented and joined him at the gym. The place was huge. Full of men of different sizes, all with bulging muscles. Though I was straight, not that I had much luck with girls, I could appreciate that all the men here were pretty attractive.

As I didn't know what to do or what to wear at the gym Ryan took me under his wing. Giving me socks, shorts, trainers, t-shirt, baseball cap, and a jockstrap to wear.

I was hesitant at first with the jockstrap, the black material didn't exactly look like it was new. It certainly wasn't something I would usually wear either.

"Don't worry bro, it's what all the guys wear!" Ryan promised.

I thought that I should listen to him considering that this was his domain so I done as I was told.

We started with some squats. Ryan showing me how to do stretch properly and safely use the weights. As I started squatting I felt the huge weights actually become easier and easier each time .

"Your legs are going to be so thick after this!" Ryan called out.

"...and so will that ass" he muttered under his breath.

We moved around the gym using the different machines. Each time they became easier to use really quickly. What I didn't notice was my body changing.

Muscle was quickly building up across my body. Turning me into a meaty gym bunny.

At the same time all those hours spent in the library were slipping away. Which explains why I didn't notice the changes.

It also explains why I didn't notice that all the guys in the gym were all very similar. About half were strong tall beasts with huge muscles. Whereas the rest were smaller, leaner but just as muscly with round bouncing asses.

Our final exercise was a couple of bench presses. I lay on my back with Ryan standing above my head helping me lift.

As he did he lowered his crotch towards my face. Breathing in his sweaty musk I felt everything click in place. My cock harded immediately and I became lost in his trance.

"I see you're changes have finally finished" Ryan said.

Putting the bar into the rack I stopped and looked up at him.

"You weren't living life and I was sick of coming back to the apartment to find you studying and not having fun. So when I found out about this place I had to bring you. Now that you're a muscle bro you can join me and have fun."

I just let the words sink in.

Ryan continued. "The best bit is that now you're just a cock hungry gym bunny. With an ass like that you'll be getting plenty of dick. Most of it mine. You won't even remember being straight."

---

That was four months ago. He was right. Now we go to the gym everyday together. Him a towering hulk of a man and me, a lean twunk with an ass that just begs to be fucked.

And it is fucked, all the time. I quickly grew to love the feeling and now I can't get enough. When Ryan isn't free I sometimes get help from the other guys at the gym. They're always happy to stretch me out after a session.

Life is so much easier now, why did I waste all that time in the library?

_____

First time writing, let me know your thoughts!

LIFT

Jay said, his voice firm and steady, the way a coach’s should be. As a 40 year old gym coach, he had his habits when it came to training guys, helping them get to their physical fitness goals. He looked at the guy he was training as gritted his teeth and pulled the barbell up with a shaky breath.

“Lift.”

The weight came down again. Jay rolled his shoulders, watching closely, his own muscles twitching from habit.

“Lift.”

He blinked. Something felt off. He had said that word a million times, but this time, it echoed strangely in his head, stretching out—

“Liftttt—”

A rush of cold air hit him. His breath stuck into the black balaclava he was wearing. His gloved hands gripped a metal bar..

He was on a ski lift.

His body felt different—lean, light, skinny, a comfortable flex beneath sleek layers of ski gear. His boots rested on the bar, expensive and pristine. A helmet pressed snugly against his head.

And next to him sat someone else. Another guy, equally sleek, equally expensive-looking. His ski goggles reflected the bright winter sun, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“You alright, bro?” the guy asked, his voice teasing, slow and hot. Seemingly young and teenage-ish. “You zoned out for a sec.”

Jay- or was it Jayden swallowed. The guy’s voice was familiar. This whole scene was familiar. He wasn’t just on any ski lift. He was on his ski lift.

Memories trickled in—winter trips, après-ski parties, Miami beaches, yachts, fast cars. He wasn’t a gym coach. He was…

A rich 20-year-old ski boy. Jayden.

And the guy next to him? Jayden knew him too. Knew his name. Knew the way his smirk turned into a breathless laugh when they were racing down the ski slopes.

Knew the way they flirted, although they weree supposed to be fully straight.

Jaydens lips parted, a cocky smirk forming on their own.

“Guess I was just distracted,” he said, his voice smooth, rich, young. “Probably by you.”

The guy chuckled, shifting closer.

“Good,” he murmured. “We got the whole lift ride to get even more distracted.”

He turned toward the guy next to him, the heat between them cutting through the crisp mountain air. The dude was hot—really hot. Not because he had a beautiful face (he did), but because he looked so handsome in his ski gear. You couldn’t even see his face behind his balaclava, helmet & ski mask. But Jayden remembered tons of nights with his bro, sucking it and taking it without any hesitation.

The guy’s gloved hand shifted, resting casually on Jayden’s thigh, just above his ski pants. Not quite subtle. Not quite innocent.

Jayden smirked. “Getting comfortable?”

The guy just grinned, his fingers pressing in slightly. “You looked cold.”

Jayden chuckled, shifting slightly so their knees bumped together. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you just wanna touch me?”

The other guy tilted his head, his ski goggles sliding down slightly. “Touch what? You’re barely packing anything”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. It was all coming back now—the way they teased each other, the way neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, especially on long ski lifts like this.

He let his own hand drift, sweaty gloved fingers brushing over the guy’s arm, then his chest, feeling the firm skinny body beneath the layers.

“Damn,” Jayden murmured, voice low. “Forgot how solid you are.”

The guy smirked. “Forgot how much you liked that.” His hand slid higher, fingers squeezing just a little.

Jayden rolled his eyes, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Shut up, Luca.”

Luca just grinned. His hand sliding lower and lower, cupping Jayden’s average sized dick beneath the ski gear layers. He moaned.

Jayden shifted, pressing himself closer against Luca, feeling the heat of his body even through their thick ski gear. His breath hitched as Luca’s hand slid lower, teasing over the waistband of his ski pants.

“Hey,” Jayden murmured, voice dropping into something softer, needier. “Pet me.”

Luca chuckled, fingers stilling just at the curve of Jayden’s rear. “Pet you where?” he asked, like he wanted to hear Jayden say it.

Jayden swallowed, face heating beneath his balaclava. He knew what Luca wanted, and he knew how much he loved teasing him for it. “You know where,” he muttered, shifting slightly. His small, tight rear barely filled out his ski pants, a firm little thing that didn’t bulge out at all, just hugged close to his frame like it belonged to a lean, sleek ski boy like him. He knew Luca liked it, liked how perky and snug it was.

Luca hummed, fingers finally pressing in, palming over the slight curve. “Damn,” he teased, voice rich with amusement. “Forgot how tiny this thing is. No wonder it takes so much work to feel you.”

Jayden groaned, half from embarrassment, half from the way Luca’s fingers kneaded him, spreading warmth through his layers. He pushed back slightly, encouraging. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

Luca just laughed, fingers pressing firmer, squeezing the small handful of Jayden’s rear through his ski pants. “Cute,” he murmured. “All tight and little.

Jayden’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted in that way it always did when Luca had him like this—flushed, flustered, teased into submission.

Luca’s grip on him tightened suddenly, fingers digging in just enough to make Jayden jolt. Then, his voice came, low and playful, right against Jayden’s ear.

“Do something for me,” he said

Jayden swallowed. “What?”

Luca’s hand on his ass flexed, warm and firm. “Fart on my hand.”

Jayden’s stomach twisted—not from disgust, but from something deeper, something hotter. The fact that Luca was actually asking for it, wanting it, made Jayden’s pulse hammer against his throat. His first instinct should’ve been to shove Luca’s hand away, to roll his eyes and laugh it off. But instead, he found himself shifting, adjusting his seat, making sure Luca’s hand was cupped right under him.

His ski pants were tight, snug against his body, trapping in every bit of heat from their morning runs down the mountain. He could feel the layers hugging him close, sealing in the warmth, sealing in everything.

“Hold on,” Jayden murmured, his voice dropping, turning softer, breathier. He pressed his weight down against Luca’s palm, focusing, feeling the slw churn in his stomach.

Luca let out a slow chuckle, his fingers flexing slightly over Jayden’s tight, small rear. “Atta boy,” he murmured, encouraging. “Let it out, rich boy.”

Jayden sucked in a breath, his gut bubbling, twisting from the sausages and potatoes he’d downed at breakfast. His teenage metabolism had been working overtime, turning everything he ate into fuel—and, apparently, gas. The pressure built low in his gut, warm and insistent, pushing right against the tight waistband of his ski pants.

And then—

Prrfffttt—

A slow, hot burst of gas pushed out, muffled by the thick insulation of his ski gear but heavy, sinking straight into the layers of fabric. It was thick, rich, almost humid in the way it settled, caught between the padding of his ski pants, sinking in deep, unable to escape. The scent hit immediately—sulfuric, eggy, lingering deep in the heat of his clothes

Luca exhaled, fingers tightening over Jayden’s ass. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice dipping, lower, rougher. “That’s rank.”

Jayden shivered, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted, letting the warmth of it seep deeper into his pants, knowing it was trapped there, brewing, getting stronger by the second.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice breathy, cocky. He pushed back slightly, his rear still snug against Luca’s palm. “You like that?”

Luca let out a low chuckle, rubbing slow, lazy circles over Jayden’s rear. “Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Gimme another.”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. The heat of Luca’s hand, the way he was actually asking for it, made him feel—fuck. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to feed him more.

He bit his lip, stomach twisting again, another deep, rich bubble of gas pushing low. He wanted this. Wanted to let go again, right into Luca’s waiting hand.

Jayden shifted once more, feeling the pressure in his gut build, his stomach still working through the sausages and potatoes he’d eaten. He could feel the weight of it in his lower belly, thick and sluggish, pressing against the tight fabric of his ski pants. His butt cheeks shifted restlessly, the material of his gear rubbing against his skin, and the warmth of the gas started to rise, spreading in the thick layers.

Luca’s hand never left his body. It was a steady, relentless presence, still cupping the firm curve of Jayden’s tight butt, fingers flexing, pressing in, making him feel every inch of his body responding to the heat between them.

Jayden bit his lip, shivers running up his spine. “You want another?” he asked, voice dipping low, almost teasing now. “You still want me to let one out?”

Luca grinned, eyes glinting behind his goggles. “I can smell it, man. It’s making me crazy.” His gloved fingers slid up the small of Jayden’s back, a soft, possessive motion. “Let me have it, bro. Don’t hold back.”

Jayden’s heart raced, but he didn’t hesitate. His body was warm, all the gas inside him pressing, making him feel full, heavy. With a deep breath, he let go, feeling it start to push, slowly at first, then building in intensity, a thick, sour release slipping out, unmistakable, the eggy smell rich and heavy, cutting through the air. It was rotten, like overcooked eggs left in a pan too long, mixed with the greasy stench of sausages and potatoes still turning in his gut.

The warmth of it sank into the thick layers of his ski gear, filling the space between his body and the ski pants, wrapping around him like a blanket. It didn’t escape immediately—it was trapped, all that foul gas sitting heavily in the padding, saturating the fabric with the stench of his breakfast, settling right into the curve of his tight butt.

Luca inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuck,” he muttered, a low, guttural sound. “That’s bad, Jayden. Really bad.” He shifted closer, leaning in, his breath hot against Jayden’s cheek as he took another deep sniff, nose pressing closer to Jayden’s buns. The smell of the eggs and sausage lingered on Luca’s breath, mingling with the sharp, almost sour tang of his sweat.

Jayden couldn’t help but feel a rush of something strange, a warmth flooding through his chest. “You like it?” he asked, voice low, almost breathless now. “You like how disgusting it smells?”

Luca’s hand slid down again, cupping Jayden’s buns harder, squeezing tight. “Hell yeah,” his nose brushed along Jayden’s butt, drawing in a long, slow breath, inhaling the thick, foul air trapped in the layers of his ski gear while surrounded by the snow of the mountains and the calm atmosphere.

Jayden groaned, leaning back into it, knowing that Luca was practically addicted to the smell. His body felt flush, each inhale of the stench making him feel something darker, something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight anymore. “You really want me to let go again?” Jayden whispered, biting his lip, pushing back against Luca’s touch.

Luca’s fingers dug in harder in the already hard small cheeks. “Give it to me,” he growled, voice low and desperate. “I wanna smell all of it, bro”

—————-

Luca :

Jayden :