@beepboopbob
Michael’s Space

Hi, I’m Michael, never Mike, 18, subby gay boy, he/him, Colorado, USA. I appreciate you for being here.

Feminine boy into Masculine Men :)

For those who want my insta or snap, dm me!

Heads up: the content on here is a bit more mature. Aka: I’m a kinky boy lol.

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2741
Last update
2021-07-23 08:05:44
    changingmen-deactivated20210520

    Culture Shock

    William put on his dapper suit and stared out at the beautiful Sydney skyline. He had a beautiful apartment and a well paying job but still he wasn’t happy. In fact, his job was the only reason he was in Australia. William was offered a promotion. A big promotion. One that only an idiot would reject. Of course, it meant he had to move away from his loving boyfriend and his supportive friends but he would make new friends in Sydney, right? Sadly, William soon found out that this would not be the case. William had been in Sydney for over a month and he still hadn’t made a single friend. Only acquaintances. Acquaintances like his coworker Blake who he could give a smile and a nod to, but nothing else.

    William blamed his loneliness on the culture shock. He felt so different to the Australian people. Australian culture was so different to what William was accustomed to. Coming from the UK, William just didn’t understand them. Their slang, their focus on being outside in the sun and partaking in water sports was all so off-putting to William. He felt as if he would never adapt. Never fit in. As if he was destined to be isolated in his two story apartment forever.

    William took one last look at his skinny, pale body in the mirror and made his way to his brand new job. He sat slumped in his office chair browsing the internet on his computer.

    “I wish I could just fit in” he whispered to himself.

    As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a warmth flow through his body. William was taken back. It felt as if there was a fire inside him, pulsing through his veins. It didn’t hurt. It felt... good. William threw himself back in his chair, basking in the waves of warm pleasure washing over his thin body.

    Suddenly, William felt all the heat focus on his arms. It felt so good. William bit his finger trying not to let out any moans. The heat gathered in his bicep making the pleasure become unbearable for William. He let out a high pitched moan that filled the office. William realised that something was very wrong. William knew this wasn’t normal. He needed help. He grabbed the phone on his desk only to drop it when he glanced at his arm. His arm was pulsating. Throbbing. It was... growing.

    William gasped as the heat grew more intense. His entire arm becoming huge, bursting out of his shirt, tearing it to pieces. He was becoming broader and broader. His hand becoming huge and his fingers thickening, becoming fat and heavy. Tattoos began to appear on his forearms. His two arms were now both as big as each other.

    William grabbed the phone again and tried to call an ambulance. But his thick, fat fingers wouldn’t allow him to press the correct buttons. He was then hit by another wave of pleasure. But this time, it was focused in his chest. His chest began to thicken. His abs became became more defined, pushing out of his stomach. His pecs jutted out of his chest. William gasped at the size of them. His new big, juicy pair of tits fattened and grew until William couldn’t even see his feet. He ran his hand over them not expecting his nipples to be so sensitive. The light touch of his sensitive nips caused him to moan in pleasure.

    The whole office clearly heard. William went red in humiliation. New gym clothes began to materialise on William. He made a dash for the bathroom as his legs began to beef up filling out his new gym shorts.

    William stumbled into the bathroom. That is when he saw himself in the mirror for the first time. “I’m huge. I look like some stupid jock!” he cried. William was revolted by his reflection. William was smart. He looked down on stupid frat boys. But now William looked like what he despised. A stupid, dumb, low-life jock boy. “Why are you doing this to me? Give me my body back!” William cried. William pulled out his phone, ready to call an ambulance.

    But then he heard footsteps coming towards the bathroom door. William used his big chunky fingers to wipe away his tears. He hid in first cubicle he saw and locked the door.

    “William?” a voice rang out. “Ya doin okay, mate”

    “Oh no, it’s Blake, my coworker. What am I gonna do?” William whispered to himself

    “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” William lied. His posh British accent eliciting a chuckle from his coworker.

    “Ya don’t have to be embarrassed, mate. Just tell me what’s happening and I can help ya” he called out in his deep Aussie accent.

    William had no choice but to come clean. “Blake, I don’t know what’s happening. You have to help me. My body is growing. I look huge” William cried to Blake.

    “Well obviously. You’ve always looked huge, ya big dag.” Blake laughed.

    William was confused. “I have always been skinny... wait, no. That’s not right.” William questioned himself.

    His memories being rewritten before his eyes. The more he thought about his life, the more he forgot. Blake was right. He had always been huge. He was always a gym bunny.

    “How’d you forget about that” he laughed. “You’re such a dumb himbo, mate. But that’s why we love ya” Blake laughed banging on the cubicle door.

    William’s IQ began to disappear. His 130 IQ dropped to around 60. Williams face gradually got blanker and blanker until finally a big dumb grin spread across his face. He was now an idiot. So dumb. His friends in the UK always laughed at how he could barely form a coherent sentence without his face going blank and his jaw dropping to release a vacant “Uhhhh”. William was the constant butt of jokes. The jokes were always aimed at the dumb expression on his face and the way he would breathe through his mouth which would often cause drool to come dribbling out.

    “Uhhh, sorry Blake. I don’t know what’s happening today. I can’t believe I thought I was smart. I barely made it through school back in the UK” William dumbly chuckled as drool began to drip out of his mouth.

    “What’re you talking about, Willie? You’re an Aussie, remember? You practically grew up on the beaches in Sydney. You didn’t even make it through school. You were too busy drooling all over your fat tits, ya big dumbo” Blake grinned.

    “Yeah, I remember. I’m as Aussie as they come, mate. I am a real dumb himbo, arent I mate” Willie’s British accent was replaced by a thick Aussie one.

    “Now get outta the dunny, grab your thongs and lets head to the beach and find some hot babes to bang tonight, alright Willie?”

    William’s wish was now fulfilled. He had totally integrated into the Aussie lifestyle. He traded his smarts for a life where he fit in. Now Willie feels as though he belongs. He was fired from that new job because he wasn’t able to read anymore. But it’s not like he cares. He’s okay with living a life of mediocrity now. I mean, I doubt he can even spell ‘mediocrity’ anymore. All he can think about is working out, banging hot babes and bouncing his big titties for his bros. That’s it.

    The once smart, young, gay businessman is now a dumb, straight, horny slut who shows off his sexy body every chance he gets. But William got what he wanted. Now he feels like he belongs. He’s got hot babes in one arm, his bros in the other and he absolutely loves it

    changingmencaptions

    Where it all began…

    stogiesbeardsandbears

    “Step out of the car,” he said, smirking around the nub of a cigar.

    You’re not sure what exactly was wrong but you did as you’re told. “Turn around”.

    He turns you around and begins to pat you down, slowly. His thick hands reaching around, checking you out. He lays a hand on your shoulder, leans in growls into your ear. “I’m going to have to take you in.” His breath is hot, smokey, and you wince before you can object. “Something wrong, son?”

    “No officer…why are-”

    “Let’s go.” He grabs your arm before you can finish, leading you to the car. He opens the back of the police car, and his cigar smoke pours out. It hits you hard. He pushes you down and into the back. The air inside is acrid, stinging. He slams the door shut. He comes around to the front and enters the car, taking a moment to touch up and relight his cigar. As he puffs and drives you off the air grows even thicker with smoke. Your head begins to swim, your vision hazy. “Where…where are we…going?”

    He smiles at you in the rear view mirror, grinning wildly around his cigar nub. “I’m taking you home, son. We’re going home.”

    Sam and Mikey

    “Sam, stop.” Michael laughed as his best friend Sam fondled the hunk’s breasts.

    “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe the spell worked!” Sam yelled in disbelief. “Who would have thought it! Grandad’s old spell book…”

    “Yeah Sam. With a body like this, no one is gonna mess with us now!” Michael celebrated.

    Sammy continued to knead his friend’s perky breasts. Michael’s chest looked so big and soft, the exact opposite as it had looked 20 minutes ago. Just half an hour ago, Michael was just your average skinny twink. But now… now he was this muscular jock. Well, a jock with the mind of a nerd.

    “When does the spell wear off…. bro?” Michael asks absentmindedly, admiring his new flexed bicep.

    Sam looked at Michael in confusion. Was he joking? ‘Bro’. Michael would never say such a thing. At least, not in a serious manner like he just did. It just wasn’t in his vernacular. Nor was it in Sam’s. Sam hoped Michael was mocking the jock stereotype. I mean, he wouldn’t put it past Michael to play a joke like this. But it was just the way he said it… it just slipped out of his lips with ease. As if it was a common occurrence.

    “Bro?” Sam laughed nervously. “Is everything alright, Michael?”

    Michael, who was still admiring his new sexy body, scoffs and laughs. “Dude, who are you, my mother? It’s Mikey. When have you ever called me by my full name, man?”

    Sam’s heart dropped into his stomach. Something was wrong. Sam had never called Michael ‘Mikey’ in his life. It had always felt so… so weird. While the two were the closest of friends, they never called each other by anything other than their proper names. Michael and Sam. Sam and Michael. That’s how it had always been. Not Sam and ‘Mikey’.

    “I’m getting worried, Michael. I think we should just refer the spell. We can try again later-” Sam panicked, grasping at his grandfather’s spell book. He frantically flicked through the pages before Mikey’s thick hands snatched it away from him.

    “I said, DON’T call me that!” Mikey grunts, carelessly swinging the spell book around. “I’m not some fuckin nerd like you, bro!”

    Sam flinches, almost cowering before his best friend. This wasn’t part of the plan. The spell book said nothing about mental changes. Only physical. Sam’s hands shake and sweat begins to glisten his skin.

    “Calm down, Micha- I mean, Mikey… you’re scaring me-” Sam stutters.

    SCARING YOU? YOU FUCKIN PUSSY, BRO?” Mikey pushes Sam against the wall, his pecs pressing against the twink’s face. “YOU WANNA ACT LIKE A PUSSY? THEN I’M GONNA TREAT YOU LIKE ONE… ISN’T THAT RIGHT, FUCKTOY?”

    “No… no please. Don’t-” Before Sam can finish his sentence, Mikey grabs Sam’s head and forces his lips onto his massive pecs. Mikey’s nipples slip their way into Sam’s mouth, forcing him to nurse on his friend’s tits. “SUCK LIKE THE GOOD BITCH YOU ARE!”

    Sam, still pressed against the wall, could feel Mikey’s cock pressing against his stomach. Michael, whose cock was around 5 inches on a good day, now had a fat 11 inch cock. A cock big enough to force any slut into submission. Sam didn’t think the spell would affect Michael this much. It was only supposed to turn him into “the man he desired to be”. But Michael didn’t mention that he wanted to be anything like this.

    Mikey took a step back, letting Sam fall to his knees. Sam felt dazed from sucking his friend-turned-bully’s tit. He sat back against the wall and noticed something lying on the ground. On the floor, behind the jock, lay Sam’s one chance at escape: the spell book. Maybe there was a way at reversing all this. Changing the hot-headed horny jock Mikey back to sweet caring Michael. Sam had no other choice.

    As soon as Sam saw the big hunk admiring his biceps, he made a break for it. He threw himself across the room and onto the book. He clawed at it, scrambling to find the reverse spell. Just as Sam opens the correct page, he feels a force tug him from behind.

    Mikey flips Sam on his back and sits on him. The jock’s weight making it impossible for Sam to move. The jock rips the book from Sam’s small hands and stared at it. Mikey squinted at the front cover, struggling to pronounce the words taped onto the book.

    “Gran…. grand-fath-er’s spell-book…. Grandfather’s Spellbook!” he yelled triumphantly as drool trickled down the side of his mouth.

    “This is what you wanted, lil bro? Wanted to change me? As if…” the jock smiled deviously. “How about I change you, bro. Anything is better than being a nerd, man.”

    “How about turning you into my submissive pet or an inflatable sexdoll… or maybe a jock like me…?” Mikey grinned as Sam began pleading to the huge jock.

    “Huhuhuhu bro. Oh no bro. You’re fucked huhuhu. This one is perfect.” He dumbly chuckles.

    “Don’t worry, brah. You’re gonna love being my happy, air-headed submissive boiwife” the jock smiled and recited the wish.

    Sam began growing beneath him. More fuckable. More bouncy. More slutty. His brain emptying of all thoughts and worries. Leaving him as nothing more than a big assed fuckable himbo.

    Mikey looked down at his creation beneath him, smirking at the wedding ring trapped on former Sam’s finger.

    “Oh fuck man… you’re perfect.”

    Who’s a Good Boy?

    Danny confidently strode down the sidewalk, his ginger dog pulling him along. The confident gym buff was lost in thought, planning out his day and how he was going to meet his buds that evening. He didn’t even notice the hulking man stomping behind him. Danny bent down and rubbed his dog’s slender face. The large man approaches Danny and his dog, his shadow enveloping the pair.

    “Such a pretty little dog, aren’t you?” the older man cooed. His large hairy muscles pressing firmly against his dress shirt. Tufts of thick hair covered the man’s meaty forearms and chest. Danny looked up at the 40 something year old man. The man stared right back at him.

    Danny stood back up, his eyes now fixated on the stranger. Even standing straight, Danny only reached the man’s collar bones. The man must have been at least 6’3. His broad shoulders and muscles were layered with a thick fatness. This only further intimidated the young 24-year-old.

    “You can pet him if you want?” Danny shrugged. “He’s a young one. Loves attention. Especially behind his ear.”

    “Mind if I-” The silver fox asked as he leaned in.

    “Sure.” Danny agreed, his eyes travelled towards his dog, waiting for the man to bend down. But the man didn’t…

    Danny felt an odd sensation emit from his head. He furrowed his brow as he realised what was happening. Still staring at the dog, Danny felt the old man’s hand run through his own hair in a soft repetitive motion. Danny looked at the man in confusion as the man continued to pet Danny’s head.

    Danny, still taken aback by the whole situation, sighed in disgust. “What the hell are you doing? I meant the dog. Obviously, not me. The dog.”

    “I am petting the dog, boy.” The man smiles softly, still rubbing Danny’s thick luscious hair. “And what a good boy he is…”

    “Get off me-” Danny grabbed the man’s arm before the man’s hand slipped down behind his ear. He began scratching intensely. The scratching caught Danny by surprise. Danny’s entire train of thought was destroyed by the man’s fingers running behind his ear. His eyes rolling into the back of his head. Pleasure shot throughout his body, all emanating from the man’s thick fat finger scratches.

    “That’s a good boy.” The bald man grinned deviously through his thick beard.

    GOOD. BOY. The words repeated softly in Danny’s head, disrupting every part of his mind, not allowing him to form a single original thought. His mind completely focused on the head scratching and the older man’s captivating praise. ‘Good boy…’

    “Ohhhhh fuckkkkkkkk” Danny moaned leaning into the man’s head scratching.

    “You’re such a good boy for your owner, aren’t you? Such a good boy.”

    GOOD. BOY. OWNER. The words rang more intensely in Danny’s pleasure filled head. He felt his knees begin to buckle as pleasure shot through his groin, causing his cock to stand at full attention. Danny felt at peace as his owner continued scratching behind his ear, just like Danny always liked it.

    Danny jumped backwards with a sudden jolt of energy. His rational brain kicking back into action. Why did he say owner? This man… this man wasn’t his owner. No one owned Danny… or at least he thought. But he was beginning to question whether that was true. What was the man doing to his brain? Danny still felt the remnants of hot warm pleasure flowing through his body.

    As Danny spiralled into confusion, he felt a cold thick fabric make contact with his neck. The fabric wrapped around his entire neck and was solidified with a loud CLICK. Danny looked down to see a collar on his neck. A thick leather collar with a round metal plate hanging off the front. The plate read “REX”, followed by the contact information of a phone number that Danny had never seen before. Even more shocking, while Danny was looking at his new label, he realised he was completely naked. Butt naked. On complete display for the man to ogle at and sexualise.

    “C’mere boy.” The fat muscle man motioned Danny over before noticing the 24-year-old gym buff was gaining too much self-awareness. He could see Danny looked panicked.

    “Who’s a good boy?” The man condescendingly cooed at Danny. “You are. You’re a good boy!”

    Another wave of pleasure washed over Danny, his eyes rolling back into his head. The hot sensation flooded his body, leaving him a sweaty moaning mess. His mind refused to think. Completely blank with the pleasure of his master’s words. He felt so relaxed. So at peace. So at home hearing his master’s affirmations.

    Noticing that his magic words were succeeding in mindfucking his subject, the man continued to tease the boy.

    “You’re such a fucking good boy. The best boy. I wanna breed your fuckable bouncy ass when we get home. Put a litter of pups in you!” The man enthusiastically laughed.

    His owner’s affirmation shot the most intense pleasure through Danny. More intense than any orgasm. Than any drug. It was so addicting. So orgasmic. Danny wanted more. He wanted his owner to compliment him, flirt with him, fuck him… The heat shot through his legs, causing them to buckle even more intensely this time. Danny fell onto all fours, his tongue flopping out of his mouth. The good boy panted as drool dripped off his tongue, his eyes still in the back of his head. His cock grew harder and harder, gathering all his smarts and his sophistication in his balls, ready to be shot out onto the sidewalk. He began absentmindedly swaying his hips side-to-side, completely mindfucked.

    “That’s right.” Danny’s owner hunkered down on this thighs and whispered. “Such a good dog.”

    Danny, still drooling his brains out, felt a sensation building in his throat… a sound. A sound that was trying to escape his throat and expose his new self to the world. The sound built in his throat more and more. Another one shot up his throat, causing his cheeks to puff up.

    “That’s it boy. Let it happen. Let it out. It’s natural. You’re just a dumb dog. Let the world know.” The man whispered sensually, causing Danny’s erect dick to pulse, ready to shoot out his brains onto the ground. Danny found his ass begin to shake violently, side-to-side, wagging his non-existent tail. Fur sprouted on Danny’s hairless chest and face. He moaned more and more intensely for everyone on the street to see. A complete spectacle for passerbys to witness.

    He resisted. He couldn’t. Another sound shot up his throat and died in his puffed cheeks.

    “C’mon Rex. Be a good dog, let it out!” Danny’s master demanded. He harshly slapped the boy’s fat ass, forcing out the humiliating sounds…

    BARKKKK BARKKK BARKKKK

    The feeling of letting out his true nature, his canine nature, sent Danny over the edge. With one forceful hump, Danny shot out all his human abilities and smarts onto the ground. His humanity and dignity was now just a puddle of cum on the tarmac. Cum that would be left behind and disintegrated by the sun and washed up by the rain, never to be seen again.

    Danny was now “Rex”. The dumb obedient dog, that is ever so eager to please his master. Whether it be getting his ass fucked all day, waiting around in his cage for Master to come home or eating dog food from his dog bowel, Rex does it all. He does it for him… the person he loves the most. The only person that exists in Rex’s world… his owner.

    Rex’s owner smiled. “C’mon boy. It’s time to go home…”

    changingmen-deactivated20210520

    City Boy

    “Please don’t break down now. Not here. Anywhere but here!”

    Nick had been travelling through the countryside when his rusty car broke down. Nick was a rich city boy. Being stranded in the countryside was completely out of his comfort zone. Nick stepped out of the rickety old car. He was surrounded by nothing but corn fields. Not a single person or house in sight.

    Nick began walked along the side of the road, hoping a car would pass by. Nick had been walking for around an hour before he saw something in the distance. It was a house. A big bright farmhouse with a barn out the back. It was the first house Nick had seen in miles. Nick precariously approached the farmhouse. He could see a big hulking farmer feeding cows out the back. The shirtless farmer glanced back at the 19 year old.

    “What do you want, city boy?” The reeking man’s voice growled.

    The cowboy brought Nick into his home and sat him down in the kitchen. Nick explained what had happened. The cowboy barely seemed to be paying attention. He kept staring lustfully at the 19 year old. His disgusting farm stench filled Nick’s nostrils.

    “So city boy, I’ve been looking for some help on the farm” The cowboy said in his southern drawl. “Are yer interested?”

    Nick laughed nervously. “No, man. I just need to use your phon-”

    “Man?” The cowboy questioned angrily.

    USE YOUR MANNERS, BOY

    “I’m sorry, sir” Nick blurted out. It was almost as if the words just slipped out of his mouth. As if the cowboy’s words had infected his brain, forcing him to say it. Nick was confused.

    YOU WANT TO WORK HERE

    “I want to work here, sir” Nick blurted out again. Nick had no control over his mouth anymore. He felt like the cowboy’s puppet. Completely suggestable to everything he was saying. The cowboy’s words embedded themselves in Nick’s brain. His words were not only changing Nick’s reality, but they were also changing Nick as a person...

    Nick jumped up from his seat in fear. Nick looked at the hulking cowboy. His 6’8 stature. Nick could smell the cowboy’s hairy body which reeked of pigs and hay. Nick then made a B line for the back door. He needed to escape. What was this man doing to him?

    YOU CAN’T RUN AWAY, BOY.

    The cowboy’s words buried deep into Nick’s mind. He couldn’t just run away... could he? He can’t just leave the cowboy. It wouldn’t be right. Deep inside, Nick knew it was immoral to leave the farmer, but Nick forced himself to keep running. Nick ran until he reached the front of the farm. He was ready to run back to his car but... his feet refused to bring him any further. His body refused to take a step outside of the farm. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t leave. He was trapped here...

    YOU GREW UP ON THIS FARM, BOY

    The cowboy’s words began to tamper with Nick’s memories. Nick’s recollection of growing up in the city vanished. They were replaced with fake memories. Memories of growing up in the South. He remembered life on the farm. How he loved milking the cows, feeding the chickens and stacking the hay. It was his favourite thing to do ever since he was a kid. The 19 year old grabbed his head. He knew the memories were fake. But they felt so... real. Wait... maybe they weren’t fake? Maybe Nick did grow up on the farm?

    “What are yer doin to me?! This ain’t my home! I’m from over yonder. I ain’t some hillbilly farmboy!”

    Nick’s hands clasped at his mouth. Nick’s accent was now completely Southern. There was not a trace of city boy left in him. It sounded like he had never even been to the city. It sounded like the only place he had ever been was.... the countryside.

    YOU TAKE AFTER YOUR FATHER, SON

    The cowboy began to rewrite Nick’s genetics. His lineage being rewritten. Nick began to forget about his real father. All memories of living with his loving father faded until there was nothing left. But new memories filled their place. Nick’s mind began to be filled with memories of working on the farm with the cowbo- no... not ‘the cowboy’... his father.

    Nick’s genes began rewriting themselves. Changing to adopt the genetics of the muscular cowboy standing in front of him. Nick grew in height as his genetics were replaced with the cowboy’s. He went from a generous 5’8 to a monstrous 6’5. Nick’s muscles began growing. His biceps grew bigger and bigger. His chest bulked up. His abs became more defined. His shoulders broadened. His small dainty hands began thickening, turning into big meaty paws. His fingers fat like sausages. Callouses formed on his hands due to the copious amounts of farm work he had done throughout his entire life in the countryside.

    His body grew hairier and hairer. His smooth boyish skin became more coarse and manly. His 19 year old face began aging. It aged until the 19 year old looked like he was in his 30s... and that’s because he was. The 33 year old’s face was now covered by a thick manly beard. His testosterone levels sky rocketed. Sweat covered his body, embedding itself in his new body hair. His hairy armpits reeked. He smelled as bad as the pig sty out back. No amount of showers or soap could get rid of the smell. It was the smell of a true country boy. Nick’s city boy clothing began disappearing, being replaced by his milking uniform.

    “Pops, what’s happening to m-?”

    YOU ARE AN UNEDUCATED COUNTRY BOY

    Nick was cut off by his father. His eyes grew dim and vacant. His jaw dropped open. Drool began forming in his mouth. Nick’s IQ had plummeted. His IQ went from 140 to 80 in a matter of seconds. It began slipping down further and further.

    “NO! POPS, YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

    His IQ slipped from 80 to 70.

    “NO POPS! I WASSA SMART BOY!”

    His IQ slipped from 70 to 50.

    “NO! I DID DONE WENT TO COLLEGE!”

    It slipped down further and further until it eventually fell to a mind numbingly stupid 30.

    “Imma dumb farmboy, pops” Nick flexed his massive biceps releasing his pit stink into his father’s nostrils. His father smirked.

    A dumb blissful expression crossed Nick’s face. Nick felt so at home in his father’s hands. So safe. So vacant. So dumb.

    “Sarry for trynna run away, pops. I dunno whut I were thinkin, sir” Nick rubbed his empty head.

    LET’S MAKE SURE YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DISOBEY ME

    Nick’s new father clicked his fingers. And with that, Nick felt a swelling in his chest. It felt as if his pecs were filling up. Filling up with liquid. They felt so heavy. The new weight on his chest almost caused Nick to fall over. He shifted his new weight causing the fat pecs on his chest to jiggle. Nick dumbly looked at his tits. There seemed to be a white liquid leaking out of his nipple. It looked like... milk. Nick’s once lean pecs began getting bigger and fatter as they filled up with milk. They looked so heavy. So fuckable. His nipples grew so sensitive. The slightest touch evoking the most intense pleasure. Nick’s father just wanted titty fuck his son right then and there.

    “Ma boobs done grown so big, pops”

    “As punishment for trying to run away, your fat tits will now supply our farm’s milk” Nick’s father deviously grinned as he stared at his son’s leaking breasts.

    Nick’s father forcefully grabbed his son’s nipples and began milking his tits. It felt so orgasmic. So pleasurable. Nick felt his intelligence being milked out of his tits. He moaned in pleasure. The more Nick was milked, the more he tried to fight back against his natural urges. But the pleasure soon became too much for the farm boy. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The dumb country boy tried to resist, but he couldn’t help but let out a big

    MOOOOOOOOOOOO”

    ———————————————————————

    And so, Nick lived out the rest of his life on his father’s farm. The dumb country boy happily fulfilled his duties on the farm. He fed the chickens, stacked the hay, let his father cum deep inside his ass. But most importantly, he supplied the farm’s dairy by letting his father milk his fat tits. Nick’s father glanced at the buckets full of his son’s milk. He grinned.

    “Go get me some firewood, son. If you disobey, I’ll make it so the only thing comin out that dumb mouth of yours is MOOOOOO.”

    changingmencaptions

    A little reblog for my most popular story

    Sam and Mikey

    “Sam, stop.” Michael laughed as his best friend Sam fondled the hunk’s breasts.

    “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe the spell worked!” Sam yelled in disbelief. “Who would have thought it! Grandad’s old spell book…”

    “Yeah Sam. With a body like this, no one is gonna mess with us now!” Michael celebrated.

    Sammy continued to knead his friend’s perky breasts. Michael’s chest looked so big and soft, the exact opposite as it had looked 20 minutes ago. Just half an hour ago, Michael was just your average skinny twink. But now… now he was this muscular jock. Well, a jock with the mind of a nerd.

    “When does the spell wear off…. bro?” Michael asks absentmindedly, admiring his new flexed bicep.

    Sam looked at Michael in confusion. Was he joking? ‘Bro’. Michael would never say such a thing. At least, not in a serious manner like he just did. It just wasn’t in his vernacular. Nor was it in Sam’s. Sam hoped Michael was mocking the jock stereotype. I mean, he wouldn’t put it past Michael to play a joke like this. But it was just the way he said it… it just slipped out of his lips with ease. As if it was a common occurrence.

    “Bro?” Sam laughed nervously. “Is everything alright, Michael?”

    Michael, who was still admiring his new sexy body, scoffs and laughs. “Dude, who are you, my mother? It’s Mikey. When have you ever called me by my full name, man?”

    Sam’s heart dropped into his stomach. Something was wrong. Sam had never called Michael ‘Mikey’ in his life. It had always felt so… so weird. While the two were the closest of friends, they never called each other by anything other than their proper names. Michael and Sam. Sam and Michael. That’s how it had always been. Not Sam and ‘Mikey’.

    “I’m getting worried, Michael. I think we should just refer the spell. We can try again later-” Sam panicked, grasping at his grandfather’s spell book. He frantically flicked through the pages before Mikey’s thick hands snatched it away from him.

    “I said, DON’T call me that!” Mikey grunts, carelessly swinging the spell book around. “I’m not some fuckin nerd like you, bro!”

    Sam flinches, almost cowering before his best friend. This wasn’t part of the plan. The spell book said nothing about mental changes. Only physical. Sam’s hands shake and sweat begins to glisten his skin.

    “Calm down, Micha- I mean, Mikey… you’re scaring me-” Sam stutters.

    SCARING YOU? YOU FUCKIN PUSSY, BRO?” Mikey pushes Sam against the wall, his pecs pressing against the twink’s face. “YOU WANNA ACT LIKE A PUSSY? THEN I’M GONNA TREAT YOU LIKE ONE… ISN’T THAT RIGHT, FUCKTOY?”

    “No… no please. Don’t-” Before Sam can finish his sentence, Mikey grabs Sam’s head and forces his lips onto his massive pecs. Mikey’s nipples slip their way into Sam’s mouth, forcing him to nurse on his friend’s tits. “SUCK LIKE THE GOOD BITCH YOU ARE!”

    Sam, still pressed against the wall, could feel Mikey’s cock pressing against his stomach. Michael, whose cock was around 5 inches on a good day, now had a fat 11 inch cock. A cock big enough to force any slut into submission. Sam didn’t think the spell would affect Michael this much. It was only supposed to turn him into “the man he desired to be”. But Michael didn’t mention that he wanted to be anything like this.

    Mikey took a step back, letting Sam fall to his knees. Sam felt dazed from sucking his friend-turned-bully’s tit. He sat back against the wall and noticed something lying on the ground. On the floor, behind the jock, lay Sam’s one chance at escape: the spell book. Maybe there was a way at reversing all this. Changing the hot-headed horny jock Mikey back to sweet caring Michael. Sam had no other choice.

    As soon as Sam saw the big hunk admiring his biceps, he made a break for it. He threw himself across the room and onto the book. He clawed at it, scrambling to find the reverse spell. Just as Sam opens the correct page, he feels a force tug him from behind.

    Mikey flips Sam on his back and sits on him. The jock’s weight making it impossible for Sam to move. The jock rips the book from Sam’s small hands and stared at it. Mikey squinted at the front cover, struggling to pronounce the words taped onto the book.

    “Gran…. grand-fath-er’s spell-book…. Grandfather’s Spellbook!” he yelled triumphantly as drool trickled down the side of his mouth.

    “This is what you wanted, lil bro? Wanted to change me? As if…” the jock smiled deviously. “How about I change you, bro. Anything is better than being a nerd, man.”

    “How about turning you into my submissive pet or an inflatable sexdoll… or maybe a jock like me…?” Mikey grinned as Sam began pleading to the huge jock.

    “Huhuhuhu bro. Oh no bro. You’re fucked huhuhu. This one is perfect.” He dumbly chuckles.

    “Don’t worry, brah. You’re gonna love being my happy, air-headed submissive boiwife” the jock smiled and recited the wish.

    Sam began growing beneath him. More fuckable. More bouncy. More slutty. His brain emptying of all thoughts and worries. Leaving him as nothing more than a big assed fuckable himbo.

    Mikey looked down at his creation beneath him, smirking at the wedding ring trapped on former Sam’s finger.

    “Oh fuck man… you’re perfect.”

    “Dad... you can’t be serious, right? You do your special ritual to switch our bodies in the middle of the night, and I wake up with your big old dick hard in this singlet? Look how silly I look.”

    “You were the one rockin these sweaty tights to bed, son. Guess you got your spandex kink from your pops. But yup, I’m borrowing this young muscle for the day. Gonna go get laid. You can enjoy your old man’s body in the mean time. This is what happens when you’re out after curfew and don’t obey your father. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, remember— I can switch our bodies whenever I want to, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Besides, you forgot to tell me Happy Father’s Day, you little asshole. Your hole’s gonna be real sore when you wake up in this body again, bud, you can bet on that.”

    Midlife Crisis: Tobias Kellerman

    Let's cut a long story short: Tobias, a forty year old father of two, goes water skiing with some friends. In the shower room he notices a man, and to his surprise he feels attracted to him. The incident makes him questioning his sexuality. After months of searching for answers he gathers the courage to have a one-night stand with a guy named Adam. Although his first time being intimate with a person of the same gender was a great experience he is still uncertain. Adam offers to help him. He takes Tobias to the private dungeon of a friend. However, it turns out to be a anything he imagined. Tobias is drugged, transformed into a rubber drone and gangbanded by dozens of men over the weekend.

    When Tobias is given the change to return home he refuses. He reveals that the last two days have made him realize that he is gay and that he was born to serve. After coming out to his family and friends he cuts all ties to his old life and becomes a fulltime rubber drone serving a master who takes him in as his servant.

    newyoutf

    Listen Up: All-American

    Oliver was stressed. The rent on his cramped London studio was a lot, and he couldn’t work enough to cover his costs while completing his studies. His work toward a law degree produced enough mental anguish on its own.

    He’d seen the mindfulness CD atop a pile of various used items at an odd store - which seemed to stock all manner of things new, used and downright weird.

    For obvious reasons, the record was alluring to Oliver. Anything that might lower the mental burden was an option worth trying. So when the handsome proprietor offered him the disc for less than a quid he couldn’t say no.

    The drive buzzed on his desk as the contents were ripped to his computer after a late, stressful night of study. Oliver sat back in his desk chair placed the wireless headphones over his mousy brown hair and opened the resulting file that appeared on his desktop.

    “Welcome. This audio program is custom designed. Just for you…”, a deep, manly voice read. Custom designed? The words made Oliver raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “What a load of bullshit", he thought.

    “Ensure you are in a comfortable, private place. You will not want to be disturbed… You feel calm. Tranquility and stillness.”

    The deep, commanding - and almost erotic voice - continued onward. Suddenly, Oliver felt awash with relaxation.

    “Relax, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Focus your concentration on your top of your head, moving down slowly down the tips of your toes. Take in your body.”

    Oliver unwittingly obeyed. His eyes shut and, taking a deep breath, he focused on the position of his body in space.

    “This… actually isn’t too bad”, he admitted to himself.

    “Empty your mind. Focus on the tingling across your skin. A pleasant warmth filling you up.”

    Oliver was less impressed about the direction this was going now, was this going to turn into some erotic thing? But, suddenly, he did fill awash with warmth and tingling. Like a hot bath. He was surprised, no calmness app or anything similar had ever achieved this effect with him.

    “Focus harder on that warmth and tingle. Make it stronger.”

    Oliver sighed, feeling the pleasant sensations fill him up entirely.

    “Stronger. Stronger. Stronger.”

    The sensations intensified more and more; and although he felt good all over, in his head he began to panic. And so, he fumbled to stop the playback.

    “Keep listening, Oliver. I guarantee you’ll like what you’re going to hear.”

    Oliver’s eyes widened in fear, did the voice just use his name? Was it aware he tried to stop the playback? Surely this was just a co-incidence in the script?

    But Oliver realized it was no coincidence when he became unable to click pause, his finger repelling like a magnet from the trackpad.

    “You’re gonna to become a real man, Oliver. Like you’ve always wanted. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”

    “Ungh… What the f- fuck?!”, Oliver whimpered. The unbearable heat and tingling sensations intensified. Whimpers turned to loud moans as pleasure and testosterone flooded his body, his cock filled with blood and hardened in his tight jeans.

    “A real man has huge, muscular arms. Much like you do, Oliver.”

    Oliver let out a groan as his upper arms began to match the spoken words and expand. His slim t-shirt’s sleeves strained as muscles began to appear under the skinny arms. They throbbed and wriggled, expanding larger and larger, thicker and thicker.

    “Your arms are fucking huge. Every part of them.”

    Oliver bit his lip and whimpered as he flexed. The thin twigs that were his upper arms surged and tore the sleeves of the shirt. Individual muscles squirmed and bulged as they reformed large and powerful. His forearms pulsed and ached as they too inflated with muscle. Veins protruded and snaked across the swelling muscle. These arms were huge, muscular machines designed for the gym.

    “You’re tall…”

    Energy rushed through his body in response to the words, but technically Oliver had always been a relatively tall and lanky 6′0″. So, nothing happened. It was if the recording was teasing him.

    “P- please… more…”, Oliver begged. Resisting was never an option to begin with, but Oliver needed no orders to desire what was happening to him. His new arms were a taste of the masculinity he’d always desired, and it felt better than he could have imagined.

    “…Really tall…”

    “Oh fuuuuuuck yeeeeaaah!”, Oliver yelled. His cock throbbed in his denim while his entire body seared with the bliss of growth. His back pushed up higher and his legs stretched longer out from the chair. The muscular arms elongated as well to keep up, more muscle packing in order to to maintain their size.

    “How do you manage to type on this thing with those massive paws?”

    “Ahhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”, cracks and pops filled the air as Oliver held out his aching, pulsating hands. His skinny fingers twitched vigorously as they pushed longer and thicker. His palms were being tugged in all directions, stretching further and further outward. The ends of his fingers creaked as they reshaped, the chewed nails regrowing, broadening and elongating. These were indeed a real man’s hands.

    “Your chest is fucking ripped. Powerful pecs. Bulging abs. Manly hair.”

    Oliver bit down hard. But as his chest and shoulders swelled in every direction, he couldn’t hold it and let out a long whine. Muscle wrapped around the widening shoulders connecting with the stunning biceps. Growth flowed downward, forcing two huge slabs of muscle to grow out of his flat, bony chest. The tightest abs Oliver had ever seen exploded out from below his thick, tight pecs. His cock pulsed as he rubbed the rippling abs. He could feel a treasure trail forming and hair flourishing across the beautiful pecs. His cock tingled as his waist pulsed. Tight cum gutters formed below the glistening abs, leading down to his aching erection.

    “Don’t forget your back.”

    Oliver hunched forward as the muscle growth swept from his massive shoulders and chest across his back. His bony back rippled and bulged as sinew and muscle swelled.

    “Everything about your legs screams power and masculinity. With an ass to match.”

    Oliver’s kicked and twisted his legs feeling his thighs balloon with new and growing muscle. The skinny jeans began tearing and splitting at the seams as more and more muscle forced its way outward. His calves did the same, stuffing themselves with more and more power, stretching the fabric to breaking to point. Every muscle in his legs contracted as it swelled and grew. Oliver flexed the legs causing a final burst of growth and shredded the tattered jeans and underwear from his body. His flat ass, now free from its confines, began to inflate dramatically, pushing him upward in his seat. 

    “Size 13s must be hard to find…”

    He clenched his mouth shut, muffling a cry as snaps and crackles emanated from the socked feet. His fairly average UK size 9s burned with pressure as the socks began to stretch in an attempt to contain the growing feet. Oliver pressed his feet hard into the floor feeling the soles soaring across the carpet. The toes curled and gripped further and further, lengthening and thickening into 10s, then 11s, 12s… The sound of a tear was met with a moan as unbelievably long, thick, masculine toes jutted through the ends of the socks leaving him with UK size 13s.

    “You’re such a looker, Olly.”

    Oliver knew what this meant and trembled as he opened the webcam app on his laptop, watching in shock and pure desire at the image of his face moving and shifting. His neck bulged and swelled, the grunts coming from his throat deepening. 

    His narrow, oval face stretched and snapped wider and longer, enlarging to fit the upper body he now possessed. Oliver rubbed his hard cock as his face began to look more and more masculine. A wide, thick jaw formed where before there was barely one at all. His lips inflated, his nose enlarged and his brow deepened. His hair darkened as it grew out, straightened and flopped messily across the headphones.

    “I look… ungh… like a jock!”, Oliver gawked, turned on by his unbelievably hot new visage.

    As he muttered those words he gasped repeatedly. Insatiable lust overtook him at watching his gorgeous, masculine face moan. His rigid erection ached and drooled at the sight.

    “That cock is just like the rest of you. Oversized.”

    Oliver stumbled upright and planted his hands on the desk and began to thrust across the table top as the 5 inch cock commenced its expansion. The continuous ecstasy that had been tearing through him since this started concentrated into his swelling dick.

    Oliver’s screams of delight could have woken the dead. He bucked and thrust violently, shaking the desk as the rock hard rod swelled with girth and pushed outward longer and longer.

    “You’re a real fuckin’ man. That cock’s designed for topping.”

    Thoughts of working out, sports and fucking tight jock asses overwrote the introverted bottom’s personality.

    “Not just a real man. You’re an all-American jock.”

    Oliver spluttered as his British accent shifted to a distinctly American one. Memories of coming to London for exchange replaced his own. With a blinding flash of ecstasy, his foreskin merged with the now 7 inch shaft, giving Oliver the big, cut, all-American cock he’d always admired.

    “Mmmmmphhh… Fuck, yeah dude! I’m… arrruuughh… a fuckin’ jock!”

    The shaft surged longer and wider. The head of the oozing cock fattened, expanded and flared outward. A massive, drooling mushroom head formed at the end of the 8 inch dick.

    The sweating, horny jock was but a second away from release, worshiping his own body and tightly, furiously stroking his cock. But the audio interrupted…

    “I bet those 10 inches are popular online.”

    Oliver howled as his encroaching orgasm was prevented. The blissful build up rushed back into his cock as it shot forward in seconds to an enormous, veiny 10 inches. He recalled making good money selling pictures and videos of his hot body and huge dick.

    The stud gripped his thick python tight in his meaty hand and stroked fast. The voice on the audio track began to tease Oliver even more than it had been.

    “You’re a real man.”

    “Huhhh… unnnghhh.. yeah… I am!”

    “You’re a fucking alpha.”

    “Hnnnnggghh, fuck yeah!”

    “Cum, stud.”

    With a delightful roar, the beautiful, cut pole shot cum like a hose across his the desk, the wall and over the floor. Then again. And again. And after what felt like an eternity, the muscle stud’s orgasms slowed.

    “Remember to share this recording with your friends…”

    And on that command, the track ended. Oliver grabbed his phone, his huge hands dwarfing the device as he snapped a photo of his cock and incredible body to post later for his adoring online fans.

    Now all the jockified Oliver needed was bros - and with the audiobook he knew exactly how to get them. But who to share it with first? Old friends, a few dedicated online fans maybe…

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    makingrealalphas

    A strong sophomore story of this page, we’ll see what the author has in store for us for future stories