I'm Loving The Stories! I'm Heading To Mexico In A Few Weeks With Work, But Hoping To Immerse Myself

The Motorcycle learning experience

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-2 hours later-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**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.

Hey, a longer story today - longer than I expected (whence why it's late). Hope you still like it nevertheless !

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I read with horror the letter. The infamous letter that every new member of the Gamma Alpha Tau fraternity receives. The one inviting us to the pledge party at the Delta Omega Gamma frat house.

The Gamma Alpha Tau fraternity couldn’t be farther apart from the Delta Omega Gamma.

We are a house very well-known for its great alumni and for cultivating its member’s academic proficiency, with the highest standards of intelligence. We even host some of the highest-profile scientific conferences, so infamous we are. It kind of means that we are a place full of nerds – I am no exception, with my lanky form and my messy black mop of hair – but it’s more of a compliment than an insult, really.

Delta Omega Gamma, on the other hand, cares not for academic faculties – their grades barely even scratching college average. No, they are more well known for their infamous giant parties and highest standards for athletic abilities, and are always scouted by some of the biggest sports teams in the world.

However, the Delta Omega Gamma had apparently a bit of a bad joke they liked to pull, of inviting the new pledges from the Gamma Alpha Tau in their first pledge party after the rush had ended. Apparently, everyone in this house had received that letter when they joined, and nobody wants to talk about it, and this year, it’s no different.

The two new members, Brandon and I had both received the letter. None of us were thrilled about the idea, Brandon even told me he would prefer working on mid-terms rather than going there. That guy is a bit of a math genius, a bit chubby with long unkempt hair, which along with his thick-rimmed glasses makes him look like the perfect nerd, but even him can’t like mid-terms. However, ever since the start of rush week, he’s stared multiple times at me, a bit creepily, so even though we’re in the same boat, I don’t really trust him all that much.

“There’s no way I’m ever going there.” He says, with his nasally voice.

- Yeah, indeed…” I agree, meekly.

- We can agree on that. Let’s just put the invite in the bin...”

However, as we approached the kitchen, the frat president stopped us. Even though he looks as nerdy as us, he has quite an imposing presence. Is it because of his lean muscles, his good style or simply his powerful voice of an expert in rhetoric ? I don’t know, but it shows that he deserves the title of president.

“You are going to that party. And that is non-negotiable.

- But we aren’t going to go to a party full of dumb jocks ! We’re here to study !” Defends Brandon. I agree with a nod.

- You are. To both questions. If you don’t go to that party, it’s the same punishment as under-performing : a strike. And remember, you’re still pledges, not full members yet, so one strike and you’re out.”

I don’t dare say a thing, though I see Brandon mumbling. However, after he stops mumbling, I gather my courage and ask :

“Why do we need to go ? What is the use ?” I ask with my still quite discernible accent.

- It’s necessary to maintain a good relationship with our neighbors, and you won’t be an exception.”

I feel like he’s omitting something big, even though it seems like he’s saying the truth. Why would it be so essential to go there if it was only good neighborly relations ?

I nod and resign myself. That party is in only a few hours, so I need to be at least presentable. I let Brandon argue a while more while I go to my room and take acceptable clothes : a good dress shirt, jeans, and a belt. Then, I go to the bathroom and arrange a bit my mop so that it’s a bit more regular. If I go to that party, it’s to go sight-seeing, so I need to be incongruous.

After a while of preparing and failed negotiations, Brandon and I stand in front of the Delta Omega Gamma house. He stands a bit uncomfortably close to me, but I don’t blame him. I’m terrified too. I don’t do loud sounds, bright lights, alcohol and especially socialization good.

However, I decide that we can’t dally around for all eternity, and step to the main door to knock on it. The door opens on the first hottie of the evening.

“Hello Brandon and Peter – or Phitha, I don’t know what you go by !” The big man said with a booming voice. “Thank you for joining us, my bros ! I’m Jordan, the president of the Delta Omega Gamma frat !”

We don’t dare say a word, terrified by how muscular that guy, and for me, too turned on to function. Seeing our hesitancy, Jordan continues :

“So, little bros, come with me ! I’m sure you’re gonna have a great time at the craziest party you’ve ever been part of !” He says with much more enthusiasm than we showed.

He motioned us to enter, and so we did. As we entered, we found a house suspiciously similar to Gamma Alpha Tau. The walls are the same, with the same rich grain of wood, the kitchen is at the same place, and even the big marble chimney is there, only on the other side when compared to our house. Yes, actually, it seems like it’s a copy of Gamma Alpha Tau, but mirrored.

However, it still clearly the home of jocks. The couches are low and covered by some tank tops, shorts and socks, a bit haphazardly thrown around. There’s also a ton of bottles of beer on what is a study table at our frat… it’s like we’re thrown in another dimension !

As we look around, however, another frat bro comes and blocks our path. A bit weirded out, I look behind and see Jason blocking our exit. Oh no, I think too late. It’s hazing.

“Say hello to Chad. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s a cool bro.” Says Jason from behind. “So cool in fact that he’s gonna help me prepare you two for the party. You can’t expect to just come in with a dress shirt and stay quiet in your corner ! You wouldn’t have fun, little bros !”

I look at him. He has a bit of malice in his look, though weirdly no evil. However, Brandon is the first to be revolted.

“What are you doing ! You’re going to torture us ? You know it’s illegal ! Stop that, immediately !” He says with his nasally voice, drawing the laughs of Jason and Chad.

- Don’t worry, you will understand everything by the end of the party…” Says Jason, enigmatically.

Jason gives a nod to Chad, and both of them suddenly grip our arms. I struggle, trying to free myself, and Brandon does the same, only more vocally :

“Let me go ! You can’t do that ! Stop it, now !”

Though it is to no avail, and Chad drags him up the stairs. As I’m dragged, struggling, to what’s presumably the downstairs bathrooms, Jason whispers to me :

“Your friend’s quite chatty… I’m sure Chad will shut him up…” I give him a stern look, and he laughs, before adding : “While I guess I’ll open you up, you need to say what’s on your mind…”

We reach what is indeed a bathroom, and he sits me on a stool.

“So, dude, to get you ready, you gotta undress.” He sees me blushing, and laughs. “I didn’t mean your underwear, bro ! But if you want…”

I shake vigorously my head, and he sighs. I still don’t dare say anything, fearing his wrath, so I obey him. I had too hard a time back home to try and resist…

When I’m barely in my underwear, he takes my clothes and puts them into a bag, before going through the drawers until he takes out… clippers. And scissors. And a weird bottle full of glue-y product. He’s going to shave me ! That I can’t accept !

“Mai, phom tongkan sing nan ! (ไม่ ผมไม่ต้องการสิ่งนั้น!)” I say, accidentally switching back to Thai, starting to flee.

- Ah, so now you talk, little bro !” He answers, seemingly understanding that I said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want that’. “Don’t worry dude, the door’s locked and I have the key.”

Not what I hoped to hear ! I get to the door to find it locked. Then, Jason turns to me and drags me back on the stool. I struggle harder, as the clippers are being activated.

“Let me go ! Not my hair ! I actually like that !

- Don’t worry, bro, I’m not cutting it full ! But if you continue like that, there’s gonna be accidents…”

As I continue struggling, he pulls the clippers closer. And then, as predicted, the clippers accidentally scratch my left eyebrow. I shout, as it actually really hurts.

“You see, bro ! You can’t stop it, but you can make it worse !

- But what do you want me to do ? Just accept ?” I ask rhetorically. However, Jason didn’t quite get the memo.

- Yes, just accept.” He answers.

This shuts me up. I stay put, tears in my eyes, letting him cut the sides of my hair, my eyebrow still in pain. I see around me tuft after tuft of black hair falling, depressed. I love my hair, it may be bushy and messy, but I love it when my mae ruffles it, and now she won’t be able to…

After a while, I feel him make rays, but I don’t care anymore. He takes out the scissors, and I don’t care. There’s yet more hair falling, and it’s just more of a disaster. He takes the bottle of glue – that I now understand is gel – and applies it to my hair. The most personal thing I have.

Seeing my desperate face, Jason turns my head towards the mirror, and I see what he did to me.

I look like a Korean singer or something – although, is it me or my skin looks clearer ? And my facial features changed ? Before I can wonder about that, my thoughts are interrupted by Jason.

“Now, bro, it’s time for the most important : the clothes ! I’ve prepared you some stuff, and you get to choose !”

He says that as if I was psyked to wear new clothes… He reveals a table on which multiple clothes were laid out, from footwear to headwear. There even was underwear – he wasn’t joking when he said I could undress fully.

As Jason mops up the excess hair, he tells me :

“Aren’t they cool, bro ? I’ve even made categories for you ! But you have to take at least one from each, dude !” He smiles a bit sadistically. “Don’t hesitate to tell me how much you love those…”

Starting from the left, there are two pairs of white socks, the difference between which I can’t really see, along with three pairs of shoes : white sneakers, white converse and white flip-flops.

“Are you sure I can’t just wear my shoes ? They’re good enough…” I say, meekly, still in shock by the haircut.

- Nah, bro, they’re lame ! White shoes are great to catch the attention of the dudes and the babes !” He answers, visibly talking from experience. Is he… no, he’s likely talking about showing off to other men.

- I don’t care, I didn’t even want to go here…”

I reach for the white sneakers and the white socks. I usually wear black sneakers, they’re easier to put on, and it’s only the color that changes… As I take them, I notice that there is some glitter on the sneakers. Is that to be more flashy !?

“Bro, I like how you say what you want ! That’s a good quality for a bro to have ! But it doesn’t matter, dude, you have to stay until the very end !

- Well, I can always sneak out after a few hours, nobody will notice…

- Huhuhu, I guess I’ll have to watch the exits, I wouldn’t want you to flee in the middle of the night, little bro !”

I stop myself. Had I just thought aloud ? It… never happens ! I’m always quiet, and only talk when I’m in the place where I should ! Like a polite person does ! Ugh, I knew that going to this party was a bad idea, but I can’t disappoint my mae and my pho back home by not being in the best frat…

As Jason looks at me, smirking, I switch my attention back to the clothes. Next step… the pants. There is underwear – very flashy underwear – laid out above the real pants, but it’s not what I focus on. The choice is even more limited, with gray sweatpants, black sports shorts and white chino shorts…

“My god, there’s nothing to wear ! I wear jeans or chino pants, not… that ! Plus, they’re way too large !” I comment quite angrily.

- Bro, we’re at a party, and we’re barely in September ! It’s hot, we’re not gonna wear something that’s too tight and too hot !

- I… I guess you’re right…” I concede.

His argumentation is weirdly convincing, it does make sense that, as it’s still hot outside, I shouldn’t wear something that covers too much. However, I still hate to have my legs exposed, so I take the gray sweatpants, and put it on, along with the socks and the shoes. Ugh, I’m already way out of my comfort zone and it’s barely half of the stuff I have to wear…

The next category is the tops, and…

“Are you kidding me ? What’s that choice ? An extremely ugly polo with ugly prints, a nice beige dress shirt but without holes to put the buttons in, and a tank top with this frat’s print ? What do you want me to wear, nai thisut (ในที่สุด) ?” I blow up, very angry, almost unable to quell the swears.

- Well, you could wear nothing on top, bro !” He laughs.

- In your dreams, ai (ไอ้) !” I answer, leaving a small swear.

I finally decide to take the tank top. I won’t be shirtless, yet I don’t want to wear that ugly piece of… clothing… that is the polo. I put it on, reluctantly, feeling weird about this kind of half-clothed half-naked feeling, exaggerated by how big that top is on me.

“Now I’ve put on the top, are you happy ?

- More happy than you think, bro.” Jason answers, smiling. “But it’s not the end, you still have three categories, dude !

- I’m not doing that because I want to !”

After the one-liner, I go back to the selection. Now, it seems to be accessories… I don’t wear accessories, they’re useless ! Ugh… I see that on the table there’s a good variety of items : a luxurious watch, a steel bracelet, a few golden rings and… what looks like an arm cuff ? I’ve already seen that on some people, but only on women.

“What’s your budget if you can consider giving me a luxurious watch ?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

- As big as the right items require it to be, bruh.” He grins.

I can’t possibly consider the watch nor anything expensive like gold, so by elimination there’s only the steel bracelet that’s possible… So I take it, and go to the necklace section. Because it somehow needs its own section.

There are multiple kinds of necklace, one with shells, one with string and a shark tooth, a large chunky chain, and a thinner chain with an N pendant. This time, I don’t hesitate and take that last one. My last name is Namsaichaikho, so it feels right to represent it.

And then, there is the last section. Inside, there are two snapbacks, two pairs of sunglasses, diamond-like gauges and black earrings. I look at Jason.

“How do you expect me to wear earrings ? I haven’t pierced my ears.

- Bro, they’re magnetic. You don’t need to pierce your ears to put them on, bruh.” He answers, amused.

I look at them more carefully and see that they’re indeed designed to go over the earlobe, not inside. So I could wear them.

After some consideration, I took the earrings. They’re by far the least egregious one, even though it isn’t a whole lot better. I put on the last of my jewelry, and I look back at Jason, showing to him my discontent still from having to go through this.

“Now, are we finished with the fucking hazing ?” I swear without even thinking.

- Well you look great, Peter – I’m gonna call you Peter, alright !” He says, grinning, as if he was proud of himself. I don’t see quite why he would. “D’ya want to take some more, bro ?

- No fucking way.

- Huhuhu, alright. Don’t worry, you’re hot enough already. Ya know, in the party there’s the whole fraternity, and there’s also the sorority Nu Iota Tau ! I’m sure someone’s gonna find you hot as hell !”

I look in the mirror. I’m ridiculous. I look like a frat bro, except one from which you’ve taken all the muscles, all the attitude, and all the hotness. Even the clothes are too big, like they’re signaling that something’s missing ! Hot my ass, I’m just gonna stay there, do nothing, and go back home to forget everything that’s happened here. Hopefully the other members of Gamma Alpha Tau won’t notice my haircut…

“So, are you ready to smash it ?” Jason asks me, overly enthusiastic, holding the door of the bathroom open.

- It’s not as if I have a fucking choice, ai (ไอ้)…” I say to him as I go out.

After all the time we spent in the bathroom, the interior of the frat had changed quite a bit. Visibly, someone took care of the common room by tidying it up, and some frat members were already starting to prepare for the party itself.

“I guess you’ve called us here early on purpose...” I ask Jason, not really realizing I had said my thoughts out loud.

- Yup, that’s correct, bro !” By now I don’t really register when he answers my thoughts. “Though you two were morons for thinking that a party starts at 6 PM huhuhu.

- I’ve never gone to parties before, plus I’m not from here ! I assumed it was normal !” I remark, offended and showing it.

- Yeah, you’re from Thailand so it checks out. But your friend was really dumb, bro.

- He’s not my friend. We’re like… er… co-pledge. Yeah. Not friends.”

That memory lapse was weird. Like, I don’t usually have brain farts like that…

“Okay, okay, not your style, huh ?” Jason laughs. “Can’t help it, though you better get along, bro. ‘Cause you’re gonna be with him tons of years, huh ? Y’all in Gamma Alpha Tau stay a ton more years more than us in college, huh ! Just have to socialize, it can’t be difficult !

- Ai (ไอ้), it very fucking hard, you know !” By now, it’s hard not to swear…

- Don’t worry, I know you’re a natural, bro. See how you talk to me, dude ! See how you socialize with me ! No problem, huh ?”

I look unimpressed, but before I can retort, Chad sneaks up on Jason and whispers to him. He whisper back, and they have a whole conversation, however I can only understand a few words, due to how noisy the room already is.

Apparently, there’s talk of struggling, of not cooperating, of help and of monitoring. I can’t quite understand everything, but I chuckle as I understand that they’re likely talking about Brandon. That creep is likely giving Chad a hard time, and honestly, good for him. At least one of us has a spine…

After the discussion, Jason turns back to me.

“Well, Peter bro, I need to do something upstairs. So, have fun down here at the party ! And remember to socialize, bro, I know you’re a natural at that !”

On that, he goes upstairs with Chad. I consider for a while leaving there and then. After all, nobody knows me, here, so my leave wouldn’t be noticed… However, as I consider that, I feel the weight of all the other bros’ gaze. I can’t, someone would discover, and I’ll say lakon talotpai (ลาก่อนตลอดไป) to the frat and my parent’s expectations…

So, I decide to go inside the main room, see what’s there, and find a spot to stay in that’s far enough that people don’t notice me, yet close enough that I can credibly feign to have participated in the party.

As I go towards the center of the room, where there are people installing the main beer kegs, I get looks from the bros. More than looks, besides the chats about setting up the party, I hear people talking about me.

“Have you seen that guy, bro ? He doesn’t even fit !

- Yeah, what does the prez have in mind, dude ?”

“So funny, he has like nothing more than bones, bro !

- Yeah bro, d’ya think he eats, bro ?

- Nah, he only eats grass I wager.”

I’m quite discouraged when I hear that. Even though I didn’t believe a second what Jason said about me being a natural at socializing, it still hurts to be proven right like that. I feel a muscle twitch.

I go to the other side of the room, close to the kitchen. There, I see the bros take out the packs of beer. Suddenly, one of them hails me :

“Hey little bro, can you help us ? We need to take the packs to the low table.

- I’m sorry, I’m not really that strong…” I answer, suddenly bashful when that stranger speaks to me.

- Come on, it’s not that heavy, little bro ! Plus I’m gonna give you a can at the end !”

I don’t want a can of beer by any means, but as he continues insisting, I go help them. The packs are surprisingly light, although they do tense up my muscles quite a lot. It’s a good workout, I guess…

When every pack has been transferred, they pick one for each of the helpers, and one is given to me.

“Here you go, bro, for the effort !”

He is very jovial, and then starts downing the can. I’m very hesitant, I absolutely don’t do alcohol, but as I feel the judgmental stares piling on me, I open my can and start sipping it slowly.

It’s a weird beverage, not very good, and with a horrid smell, yet there is something to it that makes me want to drink more. The other bros make a sign and go away, and I take that as a sign to go back to exploring, can in hand.

As I explore, the frat becomes more lively, with the first members of the sorority Nu Iota Tau joining us as the party starts for real. I even eye in the distance Jason, meaning he has finished with his deed.

As I walk, I feel my muscles twitch harder and harder. I look at the can. Is that the beer’s fault ? I know it tends to muddy the thoughts, but I never expected that to be also an effect… however, I can’t help myself from taking another sip.

Once again, I listen to what people say behind my back, and do hear a few things. Though I didn’t expect to hear what I heard :

“Is that a new pledge ? He’s a bit skinny, but he has future.

- Yeah, I especially like his style, dude. Though have you seen how he drinks his beer ? It’s like it’s champagne or something, bro, so funny !

- Dude you’re underestimating beer ! It’s the best drink on earth, bro !”

“Bro, that guy’s from which frat ? Is he invited ?

- I guess, party crashers usually come later, so I guess the prez want to convert some new bros to Delta Omega Gamma huhuhu !”

I decide to drink more frankly from my beer can. I’m getting a bit dizzy, but it’s good, so I wouldn’t want to waste it…

“Bro, what are you doing ? You don’t wanna play beer pong ?” Suddenly says a frat bro, pulling me out of my thoughts.

- Sorry, I don’t play that kind of games…

- Bro, I’ve seen you down that can. You want some beer, yeah ? So come with me, dude !

- No, really, I insist-” I start as I’m interrupted by another bro.

- Hey, if you want to be a real bro, you should come, bro. There’s enough for everybody, three times.”

That guy has a much more dominating attitude, so I concede and follow them outside. They give me the rules, and we start playing. I actually have quite a bit of fun, small talking with the other guys and getting excited at where the ball lands.

After a few rounds however, it becomes clear that I’m not good at throwing stuff, and I botch all the shots that I take… As a punishment, my team makes me drink nearly all the cups, and after only a single game, I feel very dizzy.

“Bro, I’m sorry but I won’t play with you a second time, you’re so fucking bad !” Says my teammate, the one who dragged me to the game in the first place.

- Y-Yeah… I know… … bro.” I answer, unexpectedly mirroring everyone else’s speech patterns.

- Dude you’re so out of it, go sit on the couch to sober up, okay bro ?” The other teammate, with the more dominating attitude, tells me, with a hint of worry in his voice.

- Okay... bro.” I answer with a bit of a daze.

I reel to the couch and sit on it. My muscles are still twitching, but I attribute that to the beer. As I’m resting, I listen to what people are saying about me :

“Have you seen that guy ? He’s so hot, but he seems already wasted…

- He must have drunk tons of beer, he doesn’t seem like a lightweight…”

“Bro, d’ya know when that guy joined ?

- I dunno, I don’t remember him… Is it Kai ? No, he’s over there… or Jay ? No, he left this year to become pro…

- Should we ask prez ? He might know who he is.”

It starts becoming dark, yet also hot due to all the bodies heating the main room. As I start sweating, I just go to take my tank top off – feeling though a bit clumsy as I do that – and lie down to sober up. As I do that, I feel the burning looks of those around me...

I don’t know why, but it makes me feel self-conscious, so I stand back up and put on the Delta Omega Gamma tank top. Doing that, I also scratch my crotch. Is it… scrapier than usual ? When I move my arms walking around, it also feels weirdly scrapy… and big.

But, before I can fully comprehend what happened to me, I’m interrupted by two girls from Nu Iota Gamma.

“Hey, cutie, I’ve never seen you here ! Who are you ?”

The very concept of being called cute, let alone being hit on by a woman throws me for a loop. So much for a loop in fact that I default to a flirty line :

“I’m Phitha, but you can call me Peter.”

The women giggle.

“I can see that you have an N on your necklace, Peter…” Starts the first.

- Does it stand for the Nu in Nu Iota Gamma ? Because I can totally see you as an honorary member…” The second finishes.

I’m a bit confused, still dizzy from all the alcohol, so I start answering with the truth, too gay to comprehend straight flirting :

“Well, it actually stands for-”

I’m suddenly interrupted by a strong hand circling my waist, and a deep, monotone voice stating :

“He’s mine. Get out.”

I look behind me, and see an extremely hot guy.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot…” I think aloud, once again talking before thinking.

Seeing how over the moon I am at being embraced like that by another guy, the two women discreetly back out, though by now, I had already forgotten about them.

That guy looks at me with a hungry but emotionless look, as if he knew that he was the alpha here. And clearly, he was, as he continued embracing me. Without thinking, I tell him :

“So, bro, what do you want to do with me ? If I’m yours… you have to take care of me, huh ?”

He nods, and without saying a word, drags me around until we reach a free bedroom. I’m over the moon at being dragged like that by a man like him… it’s something that could only have happened in my wildest dreams !

Once we’re in, he takes my tank top out, flinging it to the other side of the room, and pushes me on the bed. He then starts slow by undressing me little by little, first the shoes, then the socks, then the sweatpants, and he teases me by pulling on the border of my underwear. I bite my lip. It’s too good to be real !

He then does the same to himself, though faster, and goes until nothing remains.

“Suck.” He simply orders as he steps on the bed, on his knees, his apparatus on full display.

I go do it, and ensues a series of moans by him. I might be a virgin, yet somehow I suck him with an expertise only veterans possess. After a while, he pushes my face out, his apparatus throbbing, and as he goes to the nightstand, he orders :

“Turn around.”

Beyond excited, I hear him putting on condom and lube, and then impales me. This time it’s him who shows a great expertise – though I can guess this expertise has actually been acquired.

The session is intense, and we finally both come after a good long while of edging and pleasure. We’re both exhausted, and he collapses on me. We have barely enough energy to “decouple” and throw the condom in the bin before we fall asleep.

The next day, I wake up with rays of sunshine, as morning comes. I see that I’m in bed along with the hot stranger, who’s holding me. I smile, and carefully move his arms so that I am free from his embrace. Thankfully, he seems to be a heavy sleeper, so I let him sleep.

I take a phone on the nightstand – presumably my phone – and I instinctively press the camera key. I put the phone quite from me, right in the pose to make a selfie, when suddenly, two things hit me as intensely wrong.

First, since when do I do selfies ?

Second, who the hell is that guy on the phone ?

I rub my lips, and find that, indeed, hair had grown on it. I’ve never been able to grow a mustache, nevermind a goatee like that !

I’m almost tempted to rush outside the bedroom to go in the bathroom, but then I notice I’m still naked. So I go back, rummage through the abandoned clothes on the ground to find underwear, and then go out of the bedroom.

My step is heavy, though it is not clumsy, as if I was used to being this big. My god are my muscles big. I… guess that’s the pump for you…

My step is heavy, though it is not clumsy, as if I was used to being this big. My god are my muscles big. I… guess that’s the pump for you…

I go through the living room, messy and full of clothes, cups, as well as some vomit, trying to be as discreet as possible so as not to wake anyone up – which is not easy with this big a body. After a few cups accidentally falling on the ground, I am hailed by someone who I didn’t notice was in the kitchen.

“Hey Peter, doin’ good ?”

I look at Jason, sat on a tall stool in the kitchen. He invites me to take place on one of the bar stools at the other side of the counter. I oblige.

“Yup, I’m doing good, bro.” It seems natural to give out ‘bros’ in my speech, though now, sober, I notice the fact that I don’t usually do that. “I mean, I’m doing good.

- Huhuhu you can’t resist the call of the bro ! So funny. But no, it wasn’t for that that I called you, bro. I’ve got two things to tell you.” He puts in a dramatic pause. “First of all… why always my bedroom, bro ! Why is it that when the pledges come, they always fuck in my bedroom ! I had to go to Gamma Alpha Tau ‘cause of your shenanigans, bro !”

I blush.

“Did we really fuck in there ? I’m sorry, bruh…” I think out loud, once again.

- You’d think I’d be used to it, but no, it’s every single time… But yeah, bro, that’s not the important part.” He once again puts in a dramatic pause. “Second of all… d’ya wanna know why you’re not how you used to be like ?

- What, you know that I’m not myself, bro ?

- Yeah, dude, how could I not see when you become a piece of hotness like that ?

- Well thanks, bro.” I say, involuntarily flexing in front of him. I really am doing weird stuff, here…

- Heh, nice bruh.” He laughs, before regaining his composure. “But yeah, d’ya wanna know or…

- I wanna know.” I say with a confidence I rarely have – but under those circumstances, I guess I often have.

Jason laughs at my answer, but knows when to be serious :

“Well, in fact, bro, Gamma Alpha Tau and Delta Omega Gamma are linked. We are two twin frats, and ever since the beginning of our existence, those from Gamma Alpha Tau come to Delta Omega Gamma to unwind and relax after study sessions, while those from Delta Omega Gamma come to Gamma Alpha Tau come to study and keep up their grades.

- And how does the… transformation… fit ?

- Well, when we go to the other frat, we get transformed to a body that fits the frat we’re in. Don’t worry, when you’re out of the Delta Omega Gamma property you’re gonna be back to your regular you, but each time you come back, this is the body you’re coming back to.” He pauses, before continuing : “This is why we invite the Gamma Alpha Tau pledges to our pledge party, bro, to make them be in the know ! And I can’t help myself from helping mold our new bro, that’s why I gave you a haircut and the clothes… that you’re not wearing…

- I wanted to go to the bathroom, bro. I just need underwear.” I say, confidently.

- Yeah, makes sense. So yeah, bro, where do you think the Delta Omega Gamma pledges are, right now ?”

I think hard about that. For some reason, I have a hard time parsing the answer in the fog of my mind… and it isn’t helped by the now aching feeling of hangover… Seeing me put my hand on my head, Jason slides me a cup of coffee, “for the hangover”.

“I dunno, man, here ?” I finally answer. Even though I have an inkling that it’s a trick question, I just can’t seem to find the trick.

- No ! False, bro ! They’re in Gamma Alpha Tau, and they’re by now waking up from their intense study session in their nerd bodies !

- Wow, so weird to imagine, bruh…

- Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it, because from now until the rest of the year, there’s gonna be people in one frat or the other. We always send the dates of our parties, bro, and we come to yours when we need to study, dude !”

I think a while about the situation. Basically, we’re two twin frats that are the opposite of one another, yet the occupants go from one frat to another to compensate for what they don’t have…

“Bro, why is that ? Why is there transformation ?” I think aloud, yet again.

- Ah. That question. Basically, we don’t know, bro, it’s been like that ever since the beginning. So we just continue tradition and good neighborly relations !”

He laughs, but I hear in his answer a hint of lying. However, I really don’t trust this version of myself to be able to argue it out so I let the issue go… I then wonder about the man I had in bed. He arrived quite late, but he never told me his name…

“Do you know who was there at the party, bro ?

- There was the Delta Omega Gamma frat, save for our five pledges, the Nu Iota Tau sorority, the two new pledges from the Gamma Alpha Tau frat – so you and Brandon – and at the very end there were some Psi Iota Lambda party crashers, but you were already on your own world. You two were the first to go away, bro…”

I think a while, trying to find a way to know that handsome stranger’s name. Then, a flash of brightness arrives.

“D’ya have a yearbook, bro ? Somewhere where all the Delta Omega Gamma bros are listed with their photos ?

- Well, at the end of each year, we do a yearbook, so I can only lend you the one of last year, bro… Not that it’ll change anything, the pledges aren’t here.” He answers, with a bit of malice in his voice. He’s clearly playing with me.

- ‘Kay, thanks bruh.”

I go to the couch and open the yearbook. There are tons of group photos, with the number of attendees varying from photo to photo – I bet there’s some Gamma Alpha Tau folks in some of them, now that the truth has been revealed.

But when I reach the end, there are photos of every member of the frat, along with their name and occupation. I see a bunch of familiar faces, but try as I might, I don’t see the handsome stranger inside.

I put the book away and think in the fog that envelops my mind, but after a while, I finally have another flash of brightness.

“It’s Brandon, is it not ?” I think aloud, seeing Jason grinning in the background.

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

Mycelium

Elliott nervously scribbled on his flashcards, hoping to God that it was enough to pass the exam. Dr. Whitacre was a notoriously tough grader, and she would absolutely kick him from the Senior Expedition if he were to get anything less than a 97. Mycology was Elliott's passion, so missing the trip to the rainforests of Borneo was NOT an option. Luckily, he was fortunate his roommate Guillermo was returning from his class trip to the Amazon, so he could hopefully give some insight into what to expect, if not help him study for the exam.

The doorknob jiggled, and he could hear the insertion of the key into the lock. The door swung open and closed, Elliott completely enveloped in his flashcards.

"Hey man, I'll be with you in a second. I've got like two more here, but I have to hear about the trip!" He was met only with silence, and the loud thunk of a duffel bag hitting the floor. Heavy footsteps began to walk toward the wardrobe to the left of him. Guillermo must have gotten some heavy hiking boots, because those clunks could not have been made by his tiny feet... Guillermo was only 5'2, skinny as a pipecleaner, and pushing 40 years old.

The scribbling finally came to a close as he finished his final card: Pathogenic Fungi. Slamming his pencil against the desk, he leaned back in his chair, ready beyond words for a small respite. Only then did he feel the tingle in his nose. He took a quick sniff. It was faint, but it was sweet, salty, almost sour... and completely intoxicating. He turned toward the point of origin, only to see who was leaning against the old weathered armoire. It was Guillermo, or rather, his face was reminiscent of him. He was young, muscled, and outrageously large, standing a jaw dropping 7'1. His irises were completely black, and seemed to move as if filled with a liquid. A look of cocky intrigue graced his handsome face, one that Elliott could not break contact with.

"See something you like, roomie?" Guillermo's thick Belizean accent remained, albeit several octaves lower. Every inch of him glistened, his skin shiny and coated in a layer of shining sweat. He threw his muscular arms behind his head, the biceps seemingly pulsating as he flexed. The forests of hair in his pits dripped thick droplets of sweat, as they dropped to the floor and splattered like slime.

Before Elliott could even make a single remark, the scent intensified dramatically. What was once subtle was now immensely pungent and carried with it an almost wet weight to it. It felt humid, as if his musk was as wet and hot as the rainforest he'd just returned from. It was thick, soupy, almost slimy and it slithered through the air around him; brushing against his skin, invading his nose, even tickling his tastebuds with overwhelming umami flavor.

"It feels so good, right? Smells so ripe, you can literally taste it." Guillermo was right, he could taste it. In fact, he could feel the plasmic musk seemingly flow like liquid down his throat and into his nose. "We all have our own, El. You could sniff every one of us coming off that plane, and all of us smelled different and so fucking great." Guillermo walked slowly toward the entranced Elliott, letting the heat from his chiseled body radiate throughout the room. "Doc Whitacre found a new kind of fungus, Elliott. Once you take in it's spores, it changes you. Makes you see things you never would see before, feel things you never could. It makes you so fuckin strong, and so fuckin horny... You can hear the others in your head, almost like one mind, and once you let that amazing musk into your body... You're gonna see what it can do for you."

Guillermo was inches from Elliott's face, the heat exuding from his strong pecs was too much. Every inhibition completely obliterated, Elliott buried his face into the ripe, sticky pits, and began to lick. He drank the musk out of the tap, letting Guillermo's savory flavor cloud every thought and judgement. Smirking with his now plush, supple lips, he grabbed Elliott's chin between his two meaty fingers and brought it close to his own before letting his tongue do the rest. The two locked lips, Elliott experiencing the savory, sweet taste of Guillermo's saliva.

The spores had finally built up in Elliott's system, the sheer amount of them released out of Guillermo's pits, groin and feet would have overwhelmed a much larger person in about sixty seconds of exposure. Elliott being lean, short, and lanky meant the transformation stage would happen rapidly. As the microscopic spores in the slimy sweat transferred from Guillermo to Elliott, he could feel the viscous fungi invade his pores. Intense euphoria set in as he felt his muscles spasm and engorge with the slimy fungus flowing into them. Inflating at an alarming rate, he could sense his chest firming up, and his body temperature rising. Everything began to echo in his ears, as if the room had gotten quite a bit bigger. He could hear Guillermo's heart beat, he could hear the sound of the slimy spores slipping into him, and he certainly could hear the sloshing sounds of his arms inflating with fungal slime.

Guillermo pulled away and knocked Elliott to the ground, kicking his dripping black socks and rank yellow trainers off his gigantic boatlike feet. A malicious smile crept onto his face as he lowered his sole onto Elliott's face, letting his slimy toes curl around the nose. Elliott breathed deeply, and lapped his elongating tongue over the slick, reeking foot. With every breath, his torso grew larger, firmer, and more muscular. His legs swelled, and his groin stirred. Thick tufts of body hair began to sprout from his pecs and abs, spreading down his firm quads and calves, down to his rapidly expanding feet.

Snatching a facecloth from the chair, Guillermo pulled down his shorts and jockstrap and began to wipe his pendulous, slimy balls and taint all over the towel. Black precum began to seep slowly from his thick, uncut cock, so why not add a bit of the salty surprise onto the damp towel for his best friend? Pulling his foot from his face, and pressing it on Elliott's throbbing groin, he tossed the towel onto his friend's face, knowing all too well that the last stage of the transformation was the facial region. Listening to the ethereal, dark voices the fungus spoke in his black, slimy brain, Guillermo slid his own filthy socks and ripe trainers onto Elliott's now size 17 feet; letting the spores seep even further into their now muscular, slimy host.

Sliding his slick, smelly foot up and down the massive shaft, Guillermo began to stroke himself as well as the virility became too much to manage. Beneath the slimy towel, Elliott began to see vibrant, dancing colors no human eye had ever seen before, hiding within every glistening spore. They sparkled like a chromatic night sky, creating seas of indescribable constellations and nebulae. Of course, his mind was finally being completely reprogrammed. The sludge had finally made it's way into the brain through the bloodstream.

Flowing through his veins was now his own black slimy spores. Coating his brain, coating his lungs, filling his balls, and most importantly, now wafting from him. Elliott began to smell his own newfound musk, so distinct from Guillermo's, and just as irresistibly potent. He grabbed Guillermo's ankle and began to thrust against his friend's slimy foot, before hearing his moans of pleasure in his mind. He could hear the sounds of Guillermo's mind on the edge of climax, feeling the sensations of mounting tension as his own. In mere seconds, the two blew their black sludge loads in tandem; pints of it. The coated eachother in the other's cum, only stopping after their balls stopped undulating. The sludge, animate, found it's way into their cocks, teasing another round of pleasure as the boys felt the other's cum flow into their balls.

The assimilation process was complete. The fungus had taken complete control of Elliott, and added him to the hive mind. Pulling the towel from his face, an entirely transformed Amazonian man rose to his feet. Elliott's irises flooded quickly with the very last of the mycelium sludge, now filled with the same rippling black liquid as Guillermo. Both boys smiled at eachother, groping and feeling eachother before intently inhaling eachother's addictive musk. They felt the same directive, the same innate need to procreate, to spread. That is, after all, the purpose of all life. The rest of the university was easy pickings for the fungus, it would likely only take a day or two at most... No need to rush. So Elliott, taking in his newfound confidence and swagger, groped Guillermo's musky sac, before falling onto the futon. Bringing his fingers, coated in Guillermo's spores to his nose, taking in every ounce of him... The two were irrisistable, even to eachother, as Guillermo laid atop his new mate for another fuck session.

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

Locker 054

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.