College Changes You

“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

Michael’s Pits

Getting into his car Michael closed the door and basked in the hot musty sedan. It was a hot day and he had left a pair or two of worn shoes sitting in his car just baking and letting their aroma amplify. Michael took in some deep breaths as he felt sweat running down his body, he had just exited the gym and the hot sun outside kept his body from cooling off. Michael loved summer because he always worked up the most stink during the sweltering summer months, lifting his arms. He turned his head to get a deep sniff of one pit and then turned his head to get a whiff of the other. Both were producing a dank scent that pleased Michael and his dim mind. Hearing his phone buzzing he looked down and saw someone texting him, the text was from his boyfriend asking what he wanted to do for dinner.

Camron was a little surprised when his boyfriend Michael texted back and told him “we shuld get a pizza bro”, Michael never spoke like that so it was very odd to Camron that Michael was texting like a dumb jock all of a sudden. “Sure babe I’ll order it” Camron texted, he called the pizza place they go to sometimes.

Walking into the pizza place a sweet looking guy was standing at the cash register, “Hi how can I help you today?” he asked Michael. Michael looked at him dumbly for a second and a dopey grin crossed his face, “Great! A fucking weirdo” thought the cashier. The cashier, Sage, asked again, “How can I help you today, sir?”. Michael’s foggy brain cleared up a little bit to allow him to tell the cashier what he needed, “Uhhh hi bro im picking up a pizza”, “What’s the name?” Sage politely asked, “Uhhhh it’s under…ummmm…” his brain was having trouble getting his boyfriend’s name out “it’s under Camron!” he shouted out joyfully. “Okay! Let me go get that for ya” Sage said, going into the kitchen Sage found the pizza box with Camron scribbled on the side. Walking back out Sage was met with the sight of Michael sniffing his armpit, Sage could smell the B.O. wafting over the counter and into his nose. “Ummm here you go sir…” Sage said apprehensively as he was being weirded out, “Do you think my pits stink lil man?” Michael asked the cashier as he scratched his fingers in his wild forest of pit hair. “Ummm sir…I-,” Sage stuttered out “Here give em a whiff” Michael said, sticking the hand he was just scratching his revolting pit with into the cashier’s face, Michael laughed as Sage took an accidental sniff.

Sage felt his body go limp as the stench emanating off Michael’s fingers put him in a trance, “Whats happening!?!” Sage thought “This…this guy…reeks”. Michael watched as the cute little cashier began to drool, his eyes became unfocused and dull upon smelling Michael’s masculinity. Removing his fingers for a second, Michael walked around the counter to be right next to Sage, getting a couple whiffs of fresh air, Sage shook his head and blinked. Wiping the drool away he shouted out “What just happened?! G…get away! NO! BACK OF MAnnn…” Sage’s words drifted off as he was put back in Michael’s stinky armpit. Holding the pipsqueak’s head into his pit, Michael watched as his musty scent did it’s job.

Sage began to grow, the first transformation Michael saw started after about a minute or two of exposure to the stink. Sage’s neck began to expand with muscle, which quickly spread into his dainty shoulders, turning them into two massive hulking mounds. Sage felt as an intense tingling descended into his arms, they quickly transformed into looking like a hillside, all the rolling muscles he had just grown were so perfect and round. His armpits filled with a peppering of hair and began to produce their own nauseating stench similar to Michaels. Michael looked on proudly as Sage’s pecs bounced out and touched him and his stomach chiseled itself into a perfect six pack. Sage’s thighs began to expand next as the transformation moved downwards, the tiny toothpicks he once had for legs turned into massive meaty members holding him up. His feet began to grow next and they quickly burst out of the sneakers containing them and released Sage’s newly developed rotten foot funk.

Pulling his victim out of his armpit, Michael got to see his new face. It had changed while stuck in Michael’s smelly pit. His skin had gotten a good bit darker, his goatee had become just a patch of hair underneath his chin, and his stache disappeared. He lost all the femininity he once had and looked like a reeking latino gym bro. Michael was satisfied and took the pizza and left, on his way out another young twinkish customer walked in and he heard Sage ask the customer “Huhuhuh bro do my pits stink?”.

My roommate is so uptight bro. He seems so stressed about his classes. He never has time to hang out with me. I wish there was a way to help him have fun again.

You wasnt sure what to expect. The directions told you to leave the bag under his pillow and everything worked out. After a few days nothing really changed. He seemed to hang out a bit more, but exams had just ended so it didn't seem weird. The third day is when shit seemed weird. An earthy smell hang around him, and he seemed not really himself. You asked him about it but he didn't seem to realise it himself.

The next day you opened the door to your appartment to find it filled with smoke.

"Ethan!!" You scream, you run around the house trying to find your roommate.

Suddenly a rush of air sucks away all the smoke out to the patio. Frowning you quickly move towards the back, your jaw dropping at what you see.

"Ey Michael, what's up. " Ethan is lounging on the couch outside, at least, you think its Ethan. The face was similar but that's about it. His arms were huge, the toned torso, thick legs and the tattoos.

"Ethan is that you?" You ask

"Ye man in the flesh" he winks at you as he gropes his unmissable bulge.

You stare as a grin begins to form on his face. He motions you over, but you hesitate.

"Sit"

His voice carries weight, enough force to move your legs against your will. You sit down next to him and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his musk entering your nostrils, quickly turning your brain into a loopy mess.

Ethan smiles as he holds up a blunt he seemingly got out of nowhere and lights it. The burning herbs send you deeper into trance and you take it between your fingers. Your vision blurs, only Ethans handsome face and the blunt sharp. You take a deep drag and your whole body tenses. A hot rush runs all over and you begin to sweat. You groan a soft pressure pressing down on your groin.

You quickly begin to pack on muscle. Your clothes burst open, leaving you in your underwear, which, much to Ethans delight, quickly begins to tighten around your growing bulge.

You continue smoking the blunt as you increase in height, size and smell. After a while you look back at Ethan and grab his neck and pull his face to yours and make out with him.

You can't remember much, thinking definitely isn't one of your strong suits now, but you can always have a fun relaxing session with your roommate.

Skater Stench

Inspired by Anon Ask

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

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

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

Jonny Get Your Gun

While thrift shopping Jon stumbles upon an old helmet from which he will not walk away the same. Sub to dom army masculinization!

Been a while since I’ve written a military TF and after somehow getting Over There stuck in my head this happened! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

Jon and Troy were at the thrift store looking for something cute to wear to a friend’s party this weekend. The couple certainly have established wardrobes to choose from but are looking for something new, something flashy. They’re looking for something that’s just calling out to them. Never wanting to spin their wheels in place they want something to mix it up. Lo and behold as Jon makes his way to the back of the store does he find a hat doing just that, or rather a helmet.

Almost out of place on a dust-covered in the back of the store, rack Jon’s interest is immediately piqued by the army helmet. Nearing it his mind shuffles through thoughts, each one drawing him closer and compelling him to just go ahead and try the helmet on. Camo is chic right now, surely this would be just the kind of quirky experimental look they’re going for. At the very least Jon can’t help but grin at what Troy’s reaction will be when he sees Jon do a little campy salute wearing it.

With a slightly scheming grin Jon’s hands grasp at the helm, ignoring the pleasant warmth as it sits in his fingers as he hoists it onto his head. Heavier than he thought it would be, he thinks before everything around him goes silent. For but a moment he is alone with his thoughts, he hasn’t even enough time to notice that his priorities have immediately realigned before the buzz of the outside world returns. Jon shakes his head presuming that to have been his ears popping as he returns to his business, only briefly struggling to recall what that business was.

He would almost forget the helmet was on his head were it not for the soothing comfort it offers. Scratching his thin chest as he pushes it lower on his head before seeing his boyfriend and lighting up. Jon quickly aways to meet his Troy standing at a rack of tacky clothing that he for some reason he can’t bring himself to care about. He almost laughs as he sees his boyfriend pull out a technicolor blouse, presuming it to be some kind of joke. Forgetting his own plan of using the helmet as a joke he greets his love.

“Troyyy, surely you’re not wearing that yeah?” His boyfriend turns and holds up the certainly eye-catching silk blouse with a sarcastic scoff, “Ugh! I thought it was cute!” He does a brief pose with it and Jon laughs transparently judgmentally. Jon holds for some witty remark on the garment that should well have spilled forth from his ever-clever boyfriend, but none arrives after his boyfriend laughs louder than usual. He rolls his eyes and then looks to his boyfriend shocked that he’s missed something so dreadful on his head.

“Oh you’re one to talk G.I. Jon.” He half smirks as he pokes fun, assuming this is what his boyfriend intended walking up dressed like they’re at some surplus store. For his part Jon looks briefly confused before feeling at his head and remembering his new accessory. He laughs harshly once more, Troy flinches at the volume and looks around hoping no one is disturbed by his boyfriend acting uncharacteristically boorish. “Hey keep it down babe!” Jon swiftly obeys, holding a finger to his mouth only slightly mockingly before forcing a hand onto his boyfriend’s head and ruffling his hair.

Troy jumps back and rapidly sets to righting his pristine hair with a click of his tongue before returning the blouse to the rack, “Surprised you even but that on babe. Surely your hair looks like a nest now under that bowl.” Jon thinks about that for a second, sure that his boyfriend is right, that he should care about how messy his hair would be. After a second he is reminded of just how right the helmet feels and he knows he doesn’t mind whatever after effects there could possibly be. He begins scheming for a way to walk out of here with the helmet as it seems his boyfriend doesn’t seem to appreciate it nearly as much as he does. But Jon needs to have it.

They spend about half an hour longer browsing the aisles, Troy picks out a few things every so often turning to his boyfriend for his takes which come slower and less tactful at each turn. Jon’s mind swims as he feels this should be more enjoyable than it currently is. He briefly looks at some clothes for himself but with each passing minute the idea of him experimenting with clothes feels increasingly alien. Eventually he pulls out his phone and just trails behind his boyfriend, scrolling for any stimulation as he finds the idea of clothes shopping suddenly not only rote but impossibly boring. 

He groans loudly as Troy turns down another rack and his boyfriend turns in absolute shock to find Jon’s face plastered with genuine irritation. “Is everything alright Jon?” Seeing a look of concern on his boyfriend’s face Jon quickly struggles to hide his sour mood, pushing the hat down once more as he apologizes, “Uhh yeah of course, sorry I just read something, uh, on twitter.” Troy, grimaces at the phoned in lie and resolves to hurry up, “Sure sure, we can head out soon. I’ll grab this anddd you can put that helmet back and then we’re gone.”

Jon stands still in shock and Troy’s brows rise at the idea his boyfriend actually intended to keep wearing that stupid looking tin can. The idea is so bizarre to him he doesn’t even know how to respond, in the moment he just does an awkward smile and speaks through his teeth, “Oh, did you um. Want that? helmet?” Jon’s eyes race as he too struggles to find the words racing through his mind, overwhelmed by a level of desire he’s never even neared feeling before the army gear graced his head. Almost like hunger or the need to breathe is the desire for the helmet, his helmet, to stay where it belongs.

Seeing something strange painted on his boyfriend’s face Troy sighs and turns to walk to the counter, “If it’s more than thirty bucks we’re leaving it.” Jon’s heart thrums with excitement as he follows behind his boyfriend. For a brief moment that pings as uncomfortable for the man, surely he should be the one in front right? He shakes it off just as quick as they arrive at the counter, scratching at his hair underneath the helm, unaware as his lengthy curls almost seem shorter underneath, thicker and rigid as it pokes his hand and the helmet.

The cashier quickly rings up Troy’s pile of purchases before turning to see what Jon has brought, seeing the helmet on his head, “Oh, did you want to buy that as well?” Jon wordlessly nods with excitement that the cashier couldn’t miss, he continues, “Pshh, y’know what? That was going to be trash tomorrow so I don’t really mind just letting you have it.” Seeing the needy grin grow into a confident smirk on Jon’s face the cashier’s heart almost flutters as he concludes he made the right choice there. Despite knowing the two are definitely boyfriend’s he can’t help but flirt with Jon, “Consider it kismet, looks good on you.” with a wink. Troy scowls and the cashier quickly apologizes profusely before the two quickly usher themselves out the door.

Troy holds his tongue as they make their way to the car, less than thrilled that the helmet is coming with them. Even less thrilled at the fact that Jon’s gait is clearly shifting after being flirted with, in a manner Troy is quite familiar with. Not usually the jealous type, Troy easily pushes that down but remains on edge as he sees Jon maneuver to the driver side of the car. Holding the keys he honks the car to remind his boyfriend he’s the one driving. Jon scoffs and rolls his eyes before sauntering to the passenger side, deliberating adjusting his crotch as he does so. Troy narrows his eyes and lets loose his held tongue, “Are you just hungry or what Jon!? Can you chill?” Moving his hand from his package Jon raises his arms defensively but before he can answer his stomach indeed growls and he laughs. Taking this as confirmation that his boyfriend’s odd state is just some form of hanger Troy hops in the driver’s seat and starts the car.

Jon can’t help but grimace getting into the passenger’s seat, he knows this is his boyfriend’s car and that he doesn’t even like driving. But something just feels emasculating about this current situation. Try as he might, it's just bothering him, like a buzz in the back of his mind that something is wrong. Agreeing with Troy’s appraisal that he must just be ravished he reclines his chair as far back as it goes and shifts the helmet to cover his face. He can’t even hear as Troy chides him for doing so while driving, nor the playful judgment at how that helmet must stink. Instead he relishes the familiarity in its scent.

Eyes on the road Troy can’t see how Jon’s hair has changed in a manner totally unexpected. Rather than disheveling the long wavy curls as should have happened, his hair has completely changed to a look he would never be caught dead in, not quite a buzz or high and tight; his boyfriend is now sporting something jarringly jockish. Not only that but as he takes deep seemingly sleepish breaths of his helmet his chest rises higher, stretches wider than ever before, the hem of his shirt inching higher and exposing a waist not quite as thin as either man would have expected. Hearing snoring Troy steals a glance of the midriff exposed and blushes as he sees not only the barest hint of a treasure trail rising above the waist but that his bulge has returned with a vengeance, pulsing as whatever swift dream Jon has found is clearly more than a little alluring.

Under the helmet Jon isn’t quite asleep, as soon as the helmet covered his face he found himself obsessed with the scent that now bathes him. Something deep, musky, and impossibly familiar. Not quite the locker rooms of his youth, nor the sweaty bacchanals of pride events today. No it is something he knows he has never smelled before but with each breath the sweaty metallic scent imbues the not-quite memories with more reality. It’s at the edge of his mind, the edge of his tongue. He opens his mouth and looses his tongue into the humid breathy air underneath the helm and a memory that never was sears itself into his mind. Lifting weights with men clearly performatively masc, bodies stained with patriotic tattoos, grunts filling the air. Long dark nights in barracks, sweaty bodies grinding silently against each other in bunks.

Half-dreaming of a reality he never experienced and yet knows intimately his true body finds itself awkwardly catching in between his reclined seat and its seatbelt. He shifts as muscle groups never trained strain to grow. His ass hardens as in his mind he can’t help but picture grinding against other men in his cohort and his body responds in kind. Pushing against his seatbelt as it holds him tighter, his cock staining the jock-strap he threw on this morning with pre as his cock grows to push it further than it ever has before. Hearing the concerning sounds of fabric stretching and eventually a deep breathy moan Troy blushes and calls his boyfriend’s name, “Jon?”

Immediately cogent, the flashbacks of a life he hasn’t lived cease and Jon rockets up in his chair, slamming into his taut seatbelt, shooting his helmet into the windshield. “Fuck!” Going flying it thankfully bounces off safely before landing in Troy’s lap as he squints in irritation at his boyfriend. Without pause he stretches and yawns like a foghorn, his hands bumping against the low roof of Troy’s car as they rise higher than his thin arms should allow, “Yeah I could eat. You gonna cook?” Troy tilts his head at the question, both of them obviously knowing that Jon is the cook between the two. 

He pauses for a few seconds waiting for his boyfriend to address this in any form. Saying he doesn’t want to cook, that it’s a joke, anything at all. But after realizing how matter-of-fact Jon was Troy realizes that something is up. Biding his time he goes with something less than confrontational, “Did you want to grab something to eat?” Jon looks over at him in excitement, eyes flitting between his boyfriend and the hat in his lap, “Oooh Yeah! Fuck I’m craving some burgers babe!” 

Troy almost swerves as Jon says this, his boyfriend has been a vegetarian as long as the pair have dated, before even. He again waits for Jon to state this is an odd joke that simply hasn’t landed but the seconds slowly pass and judging by the dumb almost drooling expression on boyfriend’s face it’s clear that Jon is being nothing but genuine. Still driving he glances over to inspect his boyfriend closer and finally begins to pick away at his appearance. He balks at the bizarre haircut, sure that Jon did not have it this morning, nor could he picture a world where he boyfriend would deign to get it as it inches even shorter still. Trailing down to look at his body he sees the seatbelt straining to hold him down, he hears Jon grumble as it almost seems to cut in even tighter. Suddenly muscle that has never graced the chest of his boyfriend begins to rise underneath the belt.

Acting first out of concern Troy asks him, “Babe, I think your seatbelt is a little tight?” Jon guffaws in response, agreeing before undoing it and letting it slam into the window, “huhu you’re so right babe! So are we gonna stop at Micky D’s or what?” Seeing his boyfriend scratch at his pubes and refraining from returning his seatbelt Troy, ever a superstitious type, begins to suspect something sinister and otherworldly occuring and the root of it is more than clear. Clenching his own jaw as he sees Jon’s dumb smile above a jawline not nearly as petite as it should be, he rolls down his own window and prepares for the only recourse he can think of. 

When Jon checks his phone looking for the nearest fast food restaurant, Troy acts. Grabbing the helmet and launching it out the window. Unbuckled Jon drops his phone and launches himself onto his boyfriend, “What the fuck!” The helmet shoots back and crashes against the highway as Troy swerves with the weight of his boyfriend on his lap, heavier than Troy knows him to be. He ignores the harsh litany of swears being shot at him as Jon ambles back to his own seat and stares at the highway behind them. Each insult in his diatribe at Troy sounds crueler than the one before it, darker and almost deeper before he turns back and sulks in his chair. Arms clenched as anger begins to seep into every muscle in his form.

“Can you put your seatbelt back on?” Jon scoffs and ignores him, “Why did you do that?” Troy puffs his cheeks as he tries to think of a reasonable explanation for his actions, knowing that his boyfriend is generally against his superstitions, and certainly not knowing just how consumed his boyfriend had been by the helmet now dented in the dirt behind them. Eyes hidden by a brow higher and deeper than the pretty boy's face should have. Jon barely listens to his boyfriend’s justifications, finding absolutely nothing of note to justify such wanton destruction of something so meaningful, so tantamount to his own being. Troy continues to try and offer meaning, unaware that the damage has already been done in more ways than one.

The rest of the ride home is silent and brief. The boyfriends opt to fend for themselves for dinner. Hiding away from ire he simply can’t bring himself to understand, Troy goes to make himself a sandwich later that night and finds the kitchen in absolute shambles. The floor is littered with packaging from every piece of junk the two men had in the house, he balks as he tries to imagine his usually meek and pompous chef of a boyfriend stomaching the mess that lies at his feet. Almost a dozen egg shells lie tossed into the sink alongside tofacon that was clearly spit out and discarded after a single bite. 

Troy puts off his dinner to clean the mess made by his boyfriend. He knows it’s unlike Jon to leave a mess like this, or, he racks his brain to remember just how neat his boyfriend is supposed to be and struggles to really come to a conclusion. Soon enough he is completely overcome with a headache, one that grows with intensity as he tries to remember aspects of Jon. Though usually the human mind is skilled at holding contradictions Troy is struck with a migraine as two paradoxical images of his boyfriend come to mind.

The former the one he swears to be true. He remembers him at university, always going out of his way to speak up in class. Eager to go above and beyond. Showy but never too ostentatious. Anyone would describe him as kind and caring. Nothing like the man who jumped on top of him while he was driving. The Jon he knows would never go this long without checking in, especially after they had such a spat as they did. Nor would he leave half eaten tofu on the counter. Ugh but such is the sticking point, would he? He certainly has now. Troy scours his memory once more for another instance of indecency. His mind latches onto something, it is just like when they first moved in together! Right after Jonny finished his tour. What? Troy clenches at his head as it feels like a metaphysical ice pick just stabbed into his mind.

He screams and even more distress arrives after Jonny doesn’t even come to check on him. Troy hasn’t the prescience to care all too much at the moment as he feels but seconds away from passing out altogether. He barely gets up to his feet before stumbling down the hall to their bedroom. The room is filled with a musk that Troy doesn’t even have the prescience to notice. Seeing the man on his bed his vision blurs as the massive body is juxtaposed in his memory. Arms that hadn’t enough muscle to lift a cinder block fade before the powerful biceps in front of him. He moans as aftershocks of his migraine arrive before he collapses onto the bed, unconsciousness swiftly arriving as he feels the massive arms immediately encompass him.

He awakens completely entrapped in biceps that are larger than his own legs. Jonny’s new arms hold him tight to his sweat covered chest as Troy struggles to even have mobility to take a deep breath. “J- Jonny!” He chokes out before squirming around in Jonny’s iron grip, finding it easier than it should be as his torso is slicked by the inhuman amount of sweat drenching him. Troy tries to push off foolishly as his hands find no purchase. Changing strategies he instead slips out underneath as Jonny starts to stir, his face coming awfully close to a soaking wet package far larger than it should be. He sees tattoos stained across his boyfriend’s body. Ones that he wouldn’t in a thousand years imagine his boyfriend getting. Though as he does indeed imagine he finds he clearly remembers Jonny telling him about his plans to get each and every one.

Jonny awakens with a loud yawn, stretching as his whole form lengthens to its final height. Legs truly as thick as tree trucks hang off his bed while his arms raise high above their headboard before moving elsewhere to scratch the dense bushes in his pits and pubes. Troy pointedly looks away from the morning wood bobbing in the air between them as he desperately awaits for some sense of normalcy to return to his life. Finishing his morning ritual of feeling himself up and scratching at every itch that arises Jonny speaks up, his voice a harsh and raspy baritone that forces all, especially Troy, to pay attention, “Mornin’ babe. Yo can you make me some food while I get a morning pump on?” 

Troy is torn between nodding enthusiastically and fleeing for help, causing him to stand motionlessly in place. His mind is made up as Jonny stands suddenly a foot taller than him and reaches to pull him close once more, forcing his head into his sweaty pecs, inches from the forest of already musty pit hair. Troy struggles not to sharply inhale as Jonny grabs his hair and forces him to make eye contact, he smirks before releasing his boyfriend and heading off to their office, slapping him on the ass before beginning whatever work he sees fit.

This has never been their morning routine but Troy sets out like it is the only reason for his existence. He finds a fridge beyond stocked with everything such a massive trooper could desire. Swiftly preparing a meat filled breakfast Troy has barely any time to himself to even begin to question what has gone on, and when he does so his paranoia and discomfort is replaced with a desire to do nothing but obey his boyfriend. After all, is it not his place to please him? He is the man of their house. This is how it has always been.

Troy loads up a large plate to bring directly to his boyfriend, only pausing to tidy up his own appearance. He pulls an apron, one once monogrammed with a J, tight to highlight his slight curves as he knocks on their office door. He is washed with a rush of musk and sweat as if he were walking into a rainforest. Where there were once desks and bookshelves there are reams of free weights and other gym equipment, Troy’s head twitches before he has no problem at all, the room obviously is as it always has been. As it always will be, he blushes as he sees Jonny hard at work, his arms already far larger than when he woke up to them around his waist this morning.

He feels his cock stir as he sees Jonny’s pulse with every lift of the weight. The army green of his clothing highlighting every bulging muscle as he continues to exercise it towards perfection. Troy bites his lip as he imagines the things that could be done with that cock, memories of himself topping swiftly erasing as Jonny is so obviously the top it would require a rewrite of reality for it to not be the case. Hanging on the wall is an old helmet that Troy would have sworn he threw against the pavement at 60 miles per hour. His psyche immediately chastises him for the thought, how could he have done that! He knows how much Jonny loves that helmet!

Troy quickly goes to leave the food on a bench out of use before retreating from the room, not waiting for his boyfriend to say thanks. He skips making his own breakfast to instead tidy the kitchen and their living room, somehow already soiled with dirty laundry. He smells his boyfriend coming before he sees him, a trail of post-workout sweat steaming off in his wake as he goes to sit on the couch. Immediately staining it before discarding clothes onto the only recently tidied floor. He turns on the television before patting on his meaty thigh.

His boyfriend, knowing what this means, immediately rushes over to make his acquaintance. Doe eyes inspecting every bulging muscle and pulsing vein across his body. Jonny’s cock clearly begs for post-workout release as the two sit on the couch together. Troy gets to the floor and begins to pull at his boyfriend’s underwear when he hears the massive man click his tongue, “You know babe I’ve been thinking.” Already on the floor Troy waits patiently, his face inches away from the throbbing cock, “You ever wanted to enlist?”

Images of powerful army bodies dance through Troy’s mind. His small figure out of place among them certainly, but with each passing day he could fit in more. Be more. He imagines himself becoming far more than he is, running drills, pumping iron, commanding lesser men. The idea sends butterflies in his stomach as he pictures himself finally being on top, alongside Jonny. It’s barely enough for him to bear as whimpers on the floor in front of his boyfriend. Jonny just smirks and reclines, “Gotta start somewhere.” planning to go grab his favorite helmet off the wall as soon as the pair are done here. There’s always room for more men in the corps, and wouldn’t it be nice to get head from someone else who's fucking huge.

Roomie Remodelled

Today’s Saturday and I felt like kicking back first thing and enjoying a blowjob so my roommate, Paul did the honours by being my cousin Ritchie for the morning. He certainly played  the role well but that’s because at the moment he doesn’t remember that he’s not really my cousin.

Thanks to the power of my Chronivac, Paul thinks he’s always been Richie - with a few modifications of course.  The real Ritchie is straight as an arrow so naturally he wouldn’t be caught dead sucking my cock. The real Ritchie is also a bit of a prude and doesn’t like to show his sexy, tattooed bod but that’s not a problem since I dialled down his inhibitions, turned him gay and gave him a fetish for jockstraps and sweaty gym gear.

Now not only is Paul behaving like an uninhibited, gay version of Ritchie, he also thinks Saturday morning blowjobs are a regular gig for us.  Man, the feel of his lips and tongue on my pole was unbelievable and it didn’t take long for me to blow my load into his mouth once he got to work.

Watching Ritchie’s sniffing his pits after I returned the favour by sucking him off is getting me horned up again so I think I’ll reset my nuts and have another round.  The security guard at the mall’s got a rocking bod and I bet once I’ve transformed Paul into a clone of him, his lips’ll look great slurping on my cock too.

Hyperspermia - Part I

Alejo had been gone for the long weekend, and I have to say it was bittersweet. Sure, it was nice to have the apartment to myself, but he and I get along quite well! You would hope after two years of rooming together that you get to a point where there's a sort of balance and understanding between you and your roommate. In my case, it's absolutely true. We've gotten comfortable with eachother, I've gotten used to his girlfriend Bianca coming to hang out on 'Game Night Fridays;' overall, its been a great experience.

So, even though a quick Friday to Monday trip for Alejo and Bianca was nothing extensive, I was extremely excited to see him again. In fact, receiving his text that he'd arrived back safely at the flat had my head spinning with curiosity about his time in Rio. I rounded the corner, and another ping rang from my phone. I look down and my brow immediately raises quizzically. He'd lost his apartment keys? Looking down at my phone as I walked up to the building, I was moderately perplexed. The normally tight-wound, meticulous Alejo would never lose track of his keys, let alone be so relaxed in the midst of it. He was back from an international vacation, however, so I dismissed it as a brain fart after a long day of traveling. Though as I pulled the heavy glass door open to our building lobby, the sight that met me should have dismissed that simple explanation right off the bat.

"Ayy! Dante!" The name caught me off guard. William Dante Alaverdian. That's my name. I always introduce myself as Will, or even William if we had just met. Dante is never the name I use in my everyday life, only a few people would know it- and one of them sat on the top of the room divider looking quite different from the last I had seen him.

"Dante!" He sat on the half wall, grinning from ear to ear. It was indeed Alejo, though not the Alejo that had departed his apartment a week prior. His hair was short and cropped; his arms were covered in ink. Gone were the polos, the khaki shorts, the boat shoes... all replaced with a sweaty black tank top, baggy jeans, and bulky Nikes. This was quite an aesthetic departure from that I had known, and far more than a meager wardrobe change. Even the demeanor in which he sat on the wall belied a strangely rebellious attitude, only further confirmed by the irritated glance of the lobby security guard he so blissfully ignored.

"Alejo... Is that you? Get off that, the guard is watching!" Alejo turned to see the man, scoffing as he hopped off the wall. As he strutted forward, I noticed his stature. He was always a tall guy, but as he approached me it was clear that a couple of inches had been added to his height. He slapped me on the back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Man, I missed you!" His voice even sounded... off. Relaxed pronunciation of consonants, a somewhat higher timbre to his speech, had he gotten his teeth done? I looked Alejo up and down, completely perplexed.

"You look... Different..." Alejo chuckled, looking at his arms with a somewhat dim grin on his face.

"Ah, yeah. Might have gone overboard with the tatts. But it looks pretty sick, right?" He nudged me, his elbow jabbing into my side and laughing before tossing his arm around my neck. I didn't know how to react. We made our way to the elevator, this newfound stranger acting as if everything was normal. "Sorry I lost the keys, bro. I don't know where my head is these days, huhu!" This jovial tone, if not borderline braindead, was yet another new characteristic which set off alarms within me. Despite our friendship, I'm not afraid to admit Alejo was something of a sour personality, sometimes treading into insufferable territory with his pessimistic outlook on his life and the world around him. Again, I dismissed it as a rejuvinated and relaxed guy who had just returned from a good vacation.

"Yeah, I'm eager to hear about your trip and all of... this." I tried to pretend as if I didn't notice the shift, smiling as the elevator doors opened and we walked onto the empty lift. It began it's slow trek to the eighth floor, and that's when I first caught the scent. Sharp, musky... As if he'd forgotten his deodorant that morning. Yet another peculiarity for such a... perfectionist of his caliber. I try to ignore the subtle wafts from his pits with a subject change. "So... do you know where your keys are?" I hoped he'd be able to suffer through the smell until we were in fresher air.

"Oh, heh! Fuck, bro. I don't know, hah! Probably in the Uber. Maybe Bianca had 'em in her purse. Who knows, bro." I was less than enthused, but willing to overlook it. A quick replacement key made at the keysmith and that would be that. Though as he started to blather on about Ipanema and the girls on the beach... that's when I first noticed it. Perhaps the sight of it was blocked by the bagginess of the jeans at first glance, but as Alejo stood there completely upright, I could see it. A rather considerable patch of dampness on the crotch of his jeans.

"Fuck! Alejo did you fucking wet yourself?" He casually glanced down at his groin, a daft giggle escaping his lips.

"Oh. Nah it's not piss. I'm just a bit leaky today, if you know what I mean!" My jaw hung wide open, aghast at the audacity of what I'd had heard. This display did not go unnoticed by Alejo, who quickly brushed it off. "It's just a little pre, my dude. It's not gonna hurt ya!" The elevator doors opened, the clean air of the hallway rushing into the confined space. I quickly exited the elevator and quickly started to walk toward the apartment door.

Sticking my key into the lock, I watched as a wry grin slithered onto his face as he walked inside. It was only then as he strutted over the couch and crashed onto his back, smirking as he scrolled through his phone that I realized... where were his bags?

"Uh, Alejo... Did you forget something else? Your luggage?" He didn't even look up from his phone- smiling and waving off my concern.

"Craziest shit, my dude. I guess I packed old clothes or somethin', when I got there like half of my stuff didn't fit. So, a couple of cool dudes I met at the hotel were happy to share some threads. Should be gettin' here in a day or two!" Alejo kicked his sneakers off, landing with loud thuds on the floor, showing of his dirty socks. At this point, I can't deny it- something is wrong. A clean freak like Alejo wouldn't be caught dead with dirty, pungent socks on his feet. Especially without a care in the world. I sit there in awe for a moment, confused beyond all confusion before I head into my room to escape the cheesy scent of his sneakers wafting through the air.

The next few days, I watched Alejo with a careful eye. His pristine appearance had all but disappeared. Gone were the days of his pressed and tidy button ups, crisp chinos and Sperries. Instead, every day as I left to go to work, he'd dressed in whatever his Brazilian 'bros' had sent him. Jerseys, baggy jeans, gold chains, high top Chucks, tank tops, crop tops, Nikes... and the now ever present and seemingly growing wet patch on his crotch. I didn't recognize my roommate of two years whatsoever. Even coming home after a long day at the office, he'd be in his room with the door locked with loud music at all times of the night. Smoke would flow from under the door more and more, easily identifiable as cannabis- yet another thing that the Alejo I knew had been vehemently opposed to, and now suddenly a nightly user.

Don't get me wrong, he was always as cordial and friendly as before- if not more. He'd try to invite me to play whatever FIFA game he'd bought in his room, or to go to have drinks at a bar... But the more I observed him, the less I could pin him down. I'd started spending more and more time in the courtyard before heading in to the apartment: finishing spreadsheets for work or just watching YouTube videos. Yeah, I was avoiding him. I'd signed up to room with the old Alejo... not whoever this was. Every time I'd come in late, he'd already be in his room, music blaring and smoke flowing from the crack in the door. He didn't say anything for a while, I assume thinking that I was working later and later. With this newfound dumbass brain he seemed to have, it would have made sense. Though, as I walked through the courtyard doors that Saturday night, that tactic quickly came to an end.

"Dante!" I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to the chair across the pool to see Alejo sitting there with a smirk on his face. "Cmon roomie, let's talk." I approached slowly, noting the gigantic damp patch on his jeans yet again. This time, so wet in fact that one could see the sheen of his slimy pre reflecting on the surface of the fabric. I took the chair next to him, sitting down in front of him quietly, awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.

"Bro, I feel like you've been hiding from me! Where you been?" He spread his legs widely for me, his smelly Chucks landing on either side of my chair. The stain on his groin was fully visible now, massive in fact- almost the size of his entire hand. I could smell the almost chlorine scent of cum mixed with the strong scent of unwashed cock bellowing out of his pants. "It's like you've been avoiding me ever since I got back..." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face a mere foot or so away from mine. Flashing a sly grin with his perfect teeth, I found myself feeling... objectified. Though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, I could feel them roaming over me. "Could it be because you're just taking in the new and improved Alejo? 'Cuz I could get that. Things are a little different now, I'm definitely feelin' myself these days..."

I watched with absolute confusion, quickly shifting to shock as he brought his hand to the wet bulge in his pants, slowly kneading it. You could hear the squishing, slimy sound of his wet crotch... And here's the thing. As a very out and proud gay man, this sort of situation playing out would be very different if it were anyone else other than Alejo. The guy was as straight as an arrow, planning on engaging Bianca in the next few weeks. This Alejo looked at me like a wet pussy ready to be bred. But in that moment, I found myself watching his lustful smirk, pawing at his dripping crotch, even taking the time to bring his finger to his lips- suckling on it.

"I think... it's about time you took me up on roomie time." Alejo leapt up, strutting to my side, his fragrant crotch in front of my face. "Whaddya say, bro?" I suppose the right word to describe myself as I stared at the outline of his lengthening bulge straining against his jeans would be... dicknotized. No rhyme... no reason... just letting the moment come to pass with no hesitation. All my concerns, all of my suspicion melted away as I took his hand and followed him back to the elevator and up to our apartment. We stopped in front of his door for a moment, just for him to turn to me and say, "Excuse the mess, bro. Heheh."

He opened the door, and had I not been completely encapsulated by his flirtatious energy, I would have been floored. The room was a disaster. Dirty laundry strewn all over the floor, the comforter tossed into the corner, sweat stained sheets on the mattress, a gigantic bong on the side table, but above all... condoms. Used condoms, untied and hanging on every surface in the room. A fleshlight uncapped sat on the bed, his spunk still dripping from the clear silicone hole. The room stank of weed, cum, dick, and feet- on the balcony, pairs of reeking sneakers sat piled up.

Each of these things would have turned me off in their own right. Questionable hygiene aside, the state of the room itself should have been enough for me to have legitimate reason to pass on 'hanging out' with him. Yet, that wasn't what happened. I saw him flash those pretty brown eyes, smile with those plump lips, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. I walked into the room as he shut the door.

"Take a load off, bro. I'll pack us a bowl." I did as he suggested, sitting down onto the bed, my gaze subtly shifting between his beautiful ass bending over to tend to the bong and the dripping fleshlight to my left. He turned around, picking up the bong and plopping down next to me. He smiled as he ignited the bowl, taking in a deep breath of smoke before blowing a large cloud into the air with a satisfied sigh. "Ahh, that's better. Here ya go, bro."

He handed me the bong. He fell backward onto his back, his arms behind his head as he waited for me to take a toke. The water seemed mostly clean, a white film seemed to sit atop the basin, but surely nothing to worry about if he'd just taken his own hit. I brought the bong to my lips, flicked the lighter and inhaled the dank, salty smoke that filled the pipe. I coughed as I let out my very first toke of weed. Alejo smiled and laughed.

"Bro! You goin' WILD on your first time out! Atta boy!" I mirrored his smile as the smoke flowed from my mouth. "Here, dude I found a new show for us. We're gonna do roomie time every night, man." Though it wasn't the Alejo I'd known, it was great to have him around again. We continued to smoke as he put on some ridiculous show: four best friends in Boston and their shenanigans owning a bar. As we watched the show, taking turns with the bong, I could tell where the show's tone was headed... The guys were always paling around, roughhousing, just four idiots being idiots; good looking idiots at that. I can't say I was super into the show, but strangely enough, neither was Alejo. I could feel his penetrating stare and smirk from behind me, watching me, roaming over my body. Just the feeling of being ogled was enough for me to endure 'roomie time.'

We finished three or so episodes that night before I had to head to bed. Standing up, I made my excuses and headed toward the door. I exited, and as I closed the door, I peeked through the crack just in time to see him unzipping his jeans and grabbing ahold of the fleshlight. I quickly shut the door, and headed back to my room. By the time I did, the loud music began to bang through the walls. Though, upon listening closer that evening, I could hear him moaning through the guitar riffs.

The next morning, I awoke with quite the headache. The weed must have hit me hard last night. I was groggy, the room was spinning, a sharp pain in my forehead radiating like a screwdriver being jabbed into my brain. I stumbled to my feet and walked toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were still bloodshot, and I'd been sweating all night long, my underwear drenched in sweat. I brought my hand to my forehead- yup, a fever indeed. I called off of work shortly after and dragged my feet to the kitchen. Alejo stood there shirtless, making eggs with a chipper smile on his face.

"Morning, bro! I made us some breakfast before you go to..." He turned, catching sight of me seemed to take him aback. "Whoa... You look rough, dude. You feeling okay?" I rubbed my face, pain still radiating from my head.

"I don't know... Do you usually get headaches after smoking?" He stood there for a moment, as if he were trying to remember what we had done last night before he broke out laughing.

"Oh shit, bro! I forgot how much you hit the bowl last night! Heheh, yeah I bet you feel like shit. Here, I got just the thing for it." He dropped the pan with the eggs onto the countertop, and strutted toward his room. He waved for me to follow, which I did in my still somewhat inebriated state. The room was even more discheveled if you can believe it, the fleshlight sitting ever present on his pillow. From his top drawer, he pulled out a small bag. "Here, bro, take one of these."

He dropped two small white gummies into my hand. Without hesitation, I gulped them down. Coconut flavor... with a strange peppery aftertaste. Alejo smiled and patted me on the back.

"Best way to cure a weed hangover? More weed, bro. Wait 'til these kick in, you'll be chilled out in no time." I should have known better, I should have asked what they were, I should have just gotten some chicken soup and suffered through it. But I didn't. I just stared at Alejo's bright smile, his beautiful tanned muscles, the huge wet spot on his black pants... I was getting more and more smitten with him by the second. "Bro, the bright side is... we got all day for roomie time! Here, chill here, I'll get the eggs and we can kick it all day long!" He scurried out of the room, leaving me alone in his room.

I looked down at my feet as I walked toward the bed, walking over his condoms and crusty socks with care until I sat down on the mattress. His scent was thick in the room, the sheets had soaked up his sweat like a sponge, and the open balcony door wafted in the ripe scent of his sneakers. The smell was starting to grow on me, for a reason I can't explain, I started to associate pungent scent with the new Alejo... The one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one who I'd all but started to thirst for. I leaned back, waiting for the ringing in my ears to subside, before I realized that something cool and sticky was sitting beneath my palms. Turning around, I quickly sat up upon seeing just what it was: his dirty thong.

I shuffled over to the other side of the bed, staring at the slimy red thong sitting alone atop the stained sheets. I looked at my hand, still sticky... I knew what it was, I couldn't even deny it in my head. Yet, I found myself staring intensely at it. I watched as my fingers creeped closer and closer to my face, until it was right under my nose. I breathed in. Salty, sweet, sharp... I couldn't stop myself from sniffing at my slimy fingers, I couldn't stop myself from letting my fingers slide down toward my lips, I couldn't stop them from slipping past my lips. I heard the squeaking of his sneakers as he approached with breakfast, quickly licking the slime off my fingers before he walked into the room.

"Aiiight! Eat up, homie! Made with love, just for you." He winked at me, handing me the plate, butterflies flying about in my stomach. Just as he plopped down on the futon across from me, the gummies started to kick in. As promised, the headache immediately subsided, but I found myself yet again in a state of light delirium. We sat and ate, laughing like jackasses and joking about our sexual conquests. I couldn't help but laugh as he'd talk about his Latin Leche, and how good it must feel to have it fill a pussy. Little did he know, I'd had a taste of it myself. In my delirium, it made sense to finally ask him about the little friend sitting on the nightstand.

"So... I noticed your new pal over there. What's up with that?" I pointed to the fleshlight on the nightstand, and Alejo immediately grinned from ear to ear.

"Oh, fuck bro. Here, give it to me." I leaned over, picking up the plastic container, surprised at just how heavy it was. I stood up, walking over to him he reached his hand out to take it from me, but I felt frozen as I stared at him. The damp patch seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the day... as did the scent which wafted from his beautiful body. He smiled, chuckling to himself as I stood there, taking in his studliness. Instead of the fleshlight in my hands, his fingers wrapped around the waistband of my sweats, pulling gently. "Heh, like what you see, bro?"

I could barely move, entirely locked in place as his fingers slipped past my waistband and onto my underwear. His grin turned mischievous, a lusty smirk instead creeping across his face as his hand moved further south, past my pubes until the tip of his finger had touched the base of my growing shaft. His eyes never broke with mine as his hand wrapped around my cock.

"Yeahh, homie. You like what you see. I thought so." He slipped his hand out of my pants, grabbing ahold of the fleshlight as if nothing had just happened. I stood there in shock. What did it mean? Did it happen? Was it an edible hallucination? How would I know, it's my first edible? He looked at the sticky fleshlight and laughed. "Nice, right? Bro, it feels just like good ass. Better than ass, man. Milks ya dry." He slipped his fingers into the tight hole, fingering it until he'd gotten a considerable glob of his spunk on his fingers. I was rock hard. Standing there like an idiot, just watching as he played with the slime on his fingertips before wiping it on his crotch. "So... Roomie. Wanna try it out?"

My face flushed. Did I? The hole glistened with his cum, from the sheer weight of it, several loads were in there- and not small ones. The thought of his sloppy seconds sounded strangely hot, and as he patted the seat next to him on the futon, I found myself yet again doing as I was told. I sat down, having no resistance as he pulled my sweat pants down to my ankles. His devilish smirk never subsiding, his eyes not breaking from mine, he slowly tugged on my underwear until my cock had slapped against my belly and into the open.

"Nice cock, bro." His voice was low and sultry as he took my manhood into his hand, slowly stroking me. I could only whimper and moan as he pumped me, closing my eyes in bliss. He worked it like an expert. His fingers circled around my head as he slid his hand up and down my pulsating shaft. As I continued moaning in bliss, I heard the faintest sound of a zipper, then a wet slap. He took my hand into his, guiding it over to him until I opened my eyes to see it slowly wrap around his own cock. It was magnificent. Long, slender, his foreskin covering his dripping tip. The pre flowed like a waterfall, pooling atop his pants. He wrapped my hand around the slimy dick as he moved it up and down. A few seconds is all it took before I was pumping that gorgeous cock, staring at the massive swollen balls slowly undulating below. We stroked eachother for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, huffing as we did. "Here, homie. I got you." His hand slipped off my cock, and I felt the silicone hole press against my head. His loads seeped out of the fleshlight, coating my cock with his cum before he slowly pressed it down.

Ecstasy. I screamed out in pleasure as the fleshlight swallowed my cock, squelching wetly as it did. Up and down, my cock begged for it. His cum slithering around my hard dick as he pumped it. We took turns- just as I was about to blow, he slipped it off with a loud 'shlorp,' slipping it over his own dirty cock and pumping. The pungent scent of sex filled the room for the next two hours of us edging eachother. Our cocks were glazed in our juices, mingling with eachother on our leaking shafts. Soon, we had each blasted our seed into the plastic tube, our foreheads pressed together, fists on eachother's cocks... We collapsed back against the futon, laughing and pumping eachother's knuckles. I felt free... I felt relaxed... I felt sexy... This new Alejo had come back a different person, and I was here for it. He handed me a dirty sock to wipe myself with, a task he'd just completed.

"My boy! This is the kind of roomie time I'm talkin' about, homie!" Alejo slapped me on the back, as I chuckled a soft laugh. We spent the rest of the day just as we did the night before. Shootin' the shit, laughing til we couldn't breathe, laughing about our swollen balls, playin' video games until the sun came up the next day. "Shit, man. Sun's up. You got work today?" I did, but my brain had taken a different route altogether. What harm would another day off be? I hadn't used my sick days, and I'm feeling sick... It's not a lie...

"Eh. I took the week." Not true. It wasn't true. I hadn't even asked, let alone gotten anything approved... But the shit eating grin on Alejo's face was enough of a reason in my mind.

"Ah, shit, man! Boy do I got plans for you." The days went by like a blur. I don't remember it all, just bits and pieces here and there. That second day though, I remember well. I'd made my announcement, my lie, I was to be off for the next six days. Alejo grinned, saying he would pack another bowl for us. His seemingly unending stash had truly surprised me, never without a nugget to be ground. I'd decided to try and wash the stink that had accumulated from 22 hours of roomie time. I remember walking to the bathroom, feelin' odder than usual. I couldn't tell you why, or what exactly felt off... but I can say, my balls felt like bowling balls. I flipped the lights on, looked into the mirror... and I just stood there for a moment. Struck with awe.

---

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!

Will be posted on Blogspot as a single story, conclusion to come after my birthday!

Possession isn't easy. The act requires strong emotion to fuel the take-over. At long last, I was able to achieve the difficult feat in an old run-down gym in my former neighborhood. I watched them take my gym in what was now deemed the "undesirable" part of town and gentrify it into a new, exclusive "workout spa". A rage was brewing inside me after several years now of silently witnessing the rich pretentiousness, white grievance and pervasive sexism constantly inhabiting the locker room. I snapped when overheard three trust-fund bros recount their most recent homophobic hate crime from the night before. That swell of emotion was what I needed to take over one of these bastards and flex my phantasmic powers.

Fueled by rage, I rush at the one named Kyle and become lodged inside his body. He doubles over as his consciousness becomes intertwined with mine. His body cracks and shifts as his musculature redistributes from a body that was worked endlessly on upper body bulk to one that was the result of balanced focus on definition with nicely built thighs to support a tight ass. Tattoos bloom on Kyle's skin as he stands back up straighter, taller.

Kyle's bros are shaken by the sudden transformation of their comrade. They are struck by a pang of dread as they see the cocky and hungry look develop across my face as I take full control of my new vessel. One final change catches me off guard—I involuntarily tilt my new head back and moan as pleasure overtakes my new body. My new bros can only stare as my junk fills my jock strap pouch to the brim: dick growing, balls swelling, all while unlocking new levels of sensitivity. My pheramone kicks in, putting the bros in front of me into a trance. They're not going anywhere.

The wave ebbs and I look over Brad and David. It won't be long before I've transformed them into my new gay, sweaty, jock boyfriends who will help me mold this exclusive "fitness spa" into my new harem.