The Dark Prince

A place to explore my interests and fantasies. Feel free to send me an ask or a message. Only persons 18 or older should be visiting my page.

Last update
2021-07-27 05:02:39

    Lighten Up

    Jimmy entered his neighborhood swiftly, the afternoon sun beating down fiercely on his barely sweaty body. Running multiple miles almost every other day, he had not only developed quite the endurance, but an impressive body as well. He was very well toned, with small, pronounced muscles all across his body. Ever since he had started attending the local college a few years ago, he had made it a goal to get exercise whenever he had a free minute. He liked to run, but not work out–that seemed to be his brother Vance’s expertise.

    Vance, who was a year older than him and a senior at the same college, adored the gym. A proud linebacker for the top football team, it was hard to miss him. About 6’6, incredible frame, and an immense presence, Vance was the epitome of intimidating. As powerful as his brother seemed however, he always had a weak side for Jimmy. He was a sincere person who always wanted to push his sibling towards what he thought was the best, and his idea of best was Jimmy joining him in the gym. It was hard for Jimmy to decline the numerous offers, but he just didn’t want to be as big as his brother. Sure, he liked the idea of it all, but he much preferred his eight-pack over his brother’s obvious muscle gut.

    Running up to his apartment, Jimmy finally slowed down as he took out his keys. Being a little under 5’10, he definitely looked more like Vance’s 16-year-old brother than an Irish twin. Jimmy liked his shorter height though, it made him much more nimble. Opening the door, he didn’t expect a giant to be smiling in front of him, waiting on his doorstep.


    “Little bro!” Vance shouted, his deep tone causing Jimmy to jump back in fear.

    “Vance!” Jimmy retorted. “You scared me half to death.”

    “Ah, whatever,” the man replied as the two walked upstairs.

    “What are you doing here? Aren’t you going to that huge party on Fraternity Row tonight?”

    “Yeah, that’s what I came to ask you about,” he started, taking a seat. “Can I borrow the car tonight?” He was referring to Jimmy’s old Corvette, which wasn’t the most beautiful looking thing, but definitely impressive.

    “What would you need that for?” he asked.

    “That thing’s an easy lure for sex; every girl and guy wants to get a ride in that.” He winked at his double meaning.

    “Dude, gross,” Jimmy said. “Can you at least promise me you’ll not do anything gross in there?”

    ‘Well, a hole’s a hole.” Vance looked cocky, but then remembered his crowd. “Yeah, I’ll be clean.”

    “Fine.” Jimmy tossed him the keys, and as soon as they landed in his lap, Vance got up and rushed to the door.

    “Thanks, broski!” Vance replied. “Hey, you should come with me, lighten up for once.”

    Jimmy knew what he meant. Compared to his uber-popular brother, Jimmy was always kind of a loner. He liked hanging out with one or two people instead of a crowd. He was also way to strict, always keeping himself very responsible, the opposite of laid-back Vance.

    “Nah, I think I’m good.”

    “Thought you might say so,” Vance shrugged. “Anyway, I left a thank-you gift on the counter. Thought you wouldn’t accept my offer, so that’ll help you take a step back and relax.” And as soon as Vance had come, the door slammed behind him as he paraded out.

    Jimmy sighed, walking over to his counter to look for his “gift.” Sadly, he realized he had nothing to do tonight. His friends were all busy, he had finished his homework, and his girlfriend was out of town. Thinking of his girlfriend reminded him of what his brother had said about holes. Sometimes, Vance seemed to have a little too much freedom–Jimmy would definitely stick to women.

    Reflecting sunlight from a window, a small metallic box sat on the cheap wooden counter top. Opening it, Jimmy was surprised to find two cigars neatly wrapped inside. He wasn’t really one to smoke, but, knowing these were expensive and having nothing else to do, decided he’d try one later. First, he had to clean himself up.

    After popping out of the shower and putting new clothes on, Jimmy now sat comfortably in his old leather chair as he turned on the television. Flipping through channels, he decided to land on some crossword game show, hoping to pick his brain. He adorned an old t-shirt from his high school days and a pair of soft jeans, knowing he was just going to be spending some one-on-one time with himself tonight. As the letters began to appear on the screen, he gently grabbed one of the cigars from the box. It was fairly thick, and on the side was ingrained with some Greek letters–Vance probably got them from some frat. Lighting it up and taking a puff, Jimmy slowly sunk back into his chair, ready to just relax.

    The nutty flavor was the first thing to hit Jimmy as he inhaled. The strong presence hypnotized him, making him feel a little lighted headed as he blew it out. After a few moments, an earthy flavor hit his mouth, giving him what tasted like the sole of a foot. Jimmy sputtered a little, being a complete amateur to the process, but after a few more breaths he found a steady rhythm. Noting the next crossword, he felt himself ease into his seat as he gave his full attention to the screen, not noticing there was more than just a powerful flavor to the cigar.

    With each new puff, his body slowly changed. First were his legs. They were already quite powerful, with Jimmy’s constant runs and jogs giving him the quads and calves of an Olympic athlete. But as Jimmy huffed away at the cigar, his legs slowly pushed farther apart from each other more and more, gaining length and body fat. The last few years of pushing himself everyday turned to every other day, and then once a week as his lower limbs grew chunkier. Large muscles appeared too, now giving Jimmy longer legs meant for a sport with tackling or chasing rather than running distances. Of course, Jimmy didn’t notice this, even though his jeans were now very tight and exposing part of his calves.

    Next were his arms, which were fairly decent. Jimmy was toned, but he didn’t really work on his upper body as much as his lower. Feeling the smoke sit in his mouth, he couldn’t feel his arm’s expanding as years of working out morphed into existence. With less time spent running alone, Jimmy naturally spent more time lifting and spotting with his brother. The two were workout buddies of course, which became evident as the sleeves of Jimmy’s t-shirt were becoming strained against his growing biceps and triceps. Taking the half-burnt cigar away from his mouth, Jimmy didn’t realize his hands were growing in front of him, becoming meatier paws meant to throw and catch.

    Following was Jimmy’s chest, an already magnificent sight to see. With little to not fat, his torso was filled with lean muscle and tight curves. Yet, with each intake of the cigar and exhale of smoke, the solid lines separating each muscular area began to disappear. Every breath filled Jimmy’s chest in a little more, adding a tiny amount of extra fat and muscle each time. His taut flesh became looser. Not fatty, but meant more for a man in sports rather than one who just ran. His eight-pack slowly sunk in, his pride and joy absorbing inside the smooth curve that was becoming his muscle gut. Jimmy’s pecs also became meatier, pushing out his shoulder blades as he stretched out a little taller to about 6’4.

    Jimmy moaned in delight as he finished the first cigar. For some reason, the small roll of tobacco had brought him the most joy he had experienced in a long while. Grabbing the second one, he accidentally crushed the television remote under his thicker thighs, changing the channel and landing on coverage of a football game. After lighting himself up, he leaned back into his chair and noticed he was no longer watching the game show. He wanted to go back, but the more he watched the players run across the field, the more interested he became.

    Puffing his second cigar, Jimmy grunted as the tobacco quickly adjusted his vocal chords, expanding them greatly to create a voice as low and menacing as his brother’s. A wider neck grew in to support his lengthening head, creating a cleft chin as his face grew into the familiar lantern shape. His nose shrunk as his hair rearranged itself, shortening the sides and adding a small wave to the front. Bigger lips and dull, brown eyes grew in as his brain shrunk, leaving him naturally unintelligent and arrogant.

    “C’mon bro!” Jimmy shouted, naturally inheriting the jockish language. “That was a foul!” Feeling a bit of a pain in his pouch, he brought a hand down to adjust it, not noticing the different texture underneath his palm. His tight jeans had receded to a short, tight pair of terracotta-colored khakis, which now perfectly framed his thighs and large bubble butt. While his pants had shrunk inwards, his shirt had stretched outwards, expanding upon his forearms before rolling the ends up to his elbows to make room for an expensive watch. Buttons popped in as a collar adjusted itself on his neck, adding a small Polo Ralph Lauren symbol on top of the incoming plaid. His shoes also changed, growing with his feet as they expanded. Although running brought him up to Size 10, Jimmy’s feet didn’t compare to the monsters growing into the materializing Sperry’s. Once he had peaked at Size 15, the boat shoes tied themselves up neatly, hiding the meaty soles from the daylight.

    Still inhaling the smoke, Jimmy pawed at himself as he watched the game. Taking deeper breaths each time, he neglected the itchy feeling surrounding his body. Once shaved constantly for aerodynamics, Jimmy now was covered in brown hairs, filling his pubes and pits while neatly covering his arms, chest, and legs. A strong masculine musk filled the room with the tobacco as Jimmy had forgotten to apply deodorant after his shower. The last adjustment happened in his crotch. Although he was already well-endowed, Jimmy’s dick expanded another three inches to create a true python. His balls also filled with extra cum, ready to spurt out hefty amounts frat boy juice when needed. It was then that Vance snuck back into the apartment, noticing his transformed brother sitting peacefully in his leather chair.

    “Hey, bro,” he greeted softly, taking a set across from him. “How ya doin’?”

    “Fine…” Jimmy mumbled. He thought he wasn’t paying attention, but truthfully the cigars had put him into a trance, almost as thick as the clouds in front of him.

    “Alright, I think you’re ready,” Vance smiled, turning off the television and guiding his little brother’s eyes towards him.

    “Now Jimmy, I just want to do what’s best for you,” Vance began sympathetically. “I know you thought you knew what you were doing, but you obviously didn’t. You thought running with that slim body was fun, and you wouldn’t even give my way a try, so I had to force it on you.” Vance sighed, taking a breath slowly.

    “I just want what I know will make you happy, and that’s why I had some nerds make those cigars for you. I thought I’d help you ease up, take a step back from always having a stick up your butt. I didn’t want you to be living my exact lifestyle, but I wanted you to experience something similar so I could still be your big bro, that’s why you’re gonna be a frat boy.”

    “Jimmy,” Vance said, “I’m gonna need you to listen and repeat the next few things I say to you, that way they’ll be permanently ingrained in your head. Understand?”

    “Yeah…” Jimmy replied, the cigar almost half gone.

    “Alright, you hated your regular routine, that’s why you accepted my offer to help you workout.”

    “I uh…” Jimmy stuttered, “hated my routine… worked out with you.”

    “Good,” Vance responded quickly. “You love sports, you love exercise, but you hate running.”

    “I love… sports and… hate… running.” Although it seemed to be taking a lethargic pace, Jimmy’s brain was quickly readjusting itself, moving things around as Vance’s words became reality.

    “You love working out with me, and you can tell we’ve made great progress. You love your new look, and the idea of bulking and a muscle gut really turns you on.” The nerd had told Vance that if he wanted something to powerfully stick, he needed to link it to sex. He knew the whole bulking thing turned Jimmy away from Vance, so he had to enforce the idea immensely.

    “I love… working with you… and bulking…. turns… me on.” Jimmy slurred, drooling slightly as he puffed.

    “You want to be a man, and your idea of a man is strong, smelly, and alpha. You want to claim anything and everything as yours. A hole’s a hole.”

    Vance could practically feel Jimmy’s sex drive explode as he repeated the words back to him. Not only did the energy in the room change, but his brother’s massive semi-hard gave it away.

    “You are very relaxed and sometimes lazy. You love to be laid-back and just have a good time.”

    “I’m… relaxed and lazy… love to have… a good… time.”

    “You are a fraternity president. You love the frat and being in charge.”

    “I’m… a frat… prez,” Jimmy mumbled, the cigar almost gone. “I love… frat… and being… prez.”

    “Anything else?” Vance asked himself. “Oh! You aren’t smart, and you don’t care about being smart.”

    “I’m not smart… and I… don’t care.”

    “Jimmy isn’t a good frat boy name either,” Vance murmured to himself before an idea popped in his head. 

    “Your name is, and always has been, Jeremy.”

    “My name… is Jeremy.”

    “Perfect,” Vance exclaimed before getting up and squatting next to his brother. “Now Jeremy, to make these changes stay, I’m gonna need you to ejaculate. I’ll give you a little hand job and then we’ll be done, alright?”

    “Sure,” Jimmy replied, not really understanding anything. Vance got to work, pulling out his brother’s massive cock and quickly pumping it. The thing rose exponentially, soon standing up straight as Vance worked his magic. While he pumped his little brother’s meat, Jeremy groaned, grunting as he ground his cock into his brother’s hands. In a few minutes, Jeremy’s cock began to spurt juice all over, a huge load of frat boy semen spraying everywhere. Jumping back to his seat, Vance smiled eagerly as he awaited his brother to leave the cigar-filled haze.

    “Vance?” Jeremy blinked rapidly, regaining focus. “What are you doing here, and why am I all wet?”

    “Dude! ‘Bout time you woke up! I came to pick you up in my car for the party, but apparently you jerked yourself to sleep.” Jeremy looked at himself, pulling up his boxers and shorts before smirking.

    “A bro’s gotta do what a bro’s gotta do.”

    Vance’s eyes lit up as his brother smoked the remainder of his cigar. His plan had worked! Vance was definitely nervous about the whole thing, but now he’d have to go thank the nerds who had gifted his brother with the perfect life. He was so overjoyed. It seemed like Vance’s subtle enforcement of the car being his also worked, which made as him even more ecstatic.

    “Vance, bro,” Jeremy announced. “Are you ready for an epic party, and after-party?” He then winked, blowing out the last part of the cigar. Vance smirked in response, knowing he had an incredible foursome coming his way tonight.


    #muscle-growth  #mentalchange #realitychange #dumber #dumb-and-jocked #fav

    “We’re going to fucking play a game. My rules. First you’re going to stick your face in there nose, mouth everything and take a nice hard whiff. I want to hear you inhale deep. Then you’re going to tell me how many days straight I’ve worn these sneakers while wearing these nasty rank socks. Get it right and you get the fucking privilege of servicing my alpha feet. I’ll use your face instead of this ottoman while I kick back and play some Xbox One, I’ll even let you sniff right between my toes. Fuck up and you’ll get to go home with nothing else but my spit on your face.”

    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…


    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…”


    The frat brothers were all chugging bottles of beer, presumably as part of some frat party game, when I arrived at the house. But Tyler had lowered his bottle and looked at me as soon as I walked in the door. I mean, really looked at me. Once we locked eyes, I knew that I wasn’t leaving the party without his load up my ass.

    “You wanna come by my fraternity house for a party tonight?” Tyler asked as we exited the lecture hall earlier that day. There are no assigned seats for our economics class, yet Tyler had managed to sit next to me every day since classes started two weeks ago. He had been flirting in that cute, ambiguous way that says, “I’m not a fag, but I might be into you.”

    “We’re having open rush all month,” Tyler added, “if you think you might want to join.” I scrunched my face. “Thanks, man. But I’m not really fraternity material,” I explained. Tyler looked crushed. “You don’t have to rush,” he clarified. “You can just hang out with us. There’ll be lots of beer. It’ll be fun. Please?” He was practically begging. “OK, man,” I agreed. “I’ll try to stop by tonight.” Tyler’s cute, boyish face immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. “Phi Upsilon Kappa. It’s the brick house with columns halfway down frat row.”

    Some dude was puking in the front hedges when I arrived at the ΦΥΚ house that night. Jesus, I hate these parties. But I reminded myself that Tyler was cute as fuck. I was pretty sure he had been flirting with me the past few weeks in class, but sometimes I see things that aren’t there when I’m around cute guys like Tyler. As I walked in the door to his fraternity house and caught his eye, there was no doubt in my mind that Tyler was into me.

    Some kind of beer chugging game was in progress, but Tyler immediately lowered his bottle and locked eyes with me. Jesus, he looked hot. He was shirtless and his body was fucking tight. My ass twitched at the thought of getting his cock inside me. Suddenly, he was rushing toward me. “You made it, bro!” he exclaimed while pulling me into a bear hug and upending half of his beer onto the floor. He was slightly drunk, but not trashed yet.

    “Let’s get you a beer,” he yelled in my ear over the loud music. He led me through the large front room of the house to a deck out back where coolers were packed with bottles of beer. It was quieter out on the deck, with most everyone inside the house. “I thought kegs were more common at frat parties,” I joked while holding up a bottle. “Yeah, well one of our brothers has an uncle who’s a bottle distributor and he hooked us up,” Tyler explained. “I’m sure one of the brothers had to suck off the guy in return,” he then laughed. The fact that Tyler could joke about a guy sucking off another guy for beer was promising.

    “This is a nice house,” I commented while taking in the ivy-covered, brick walls lining the deck. “Yeah, this is actually my first year living in the house,” Tyler explained. “I lived in Otis Hall last year.” I took a sip of beer and replied, “That’s cool. I was next door in Wesley Hall last year, and I’m there again this year.” Tyler frowned. “Man, we were practically neighbors,” he lamented. “I wish I had met you last year.” It was such a sweet sentiment and, without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him.

    “Shit, man,” Tyler exclaimed while abruptly pulling away and looking around to make sure we were still alone on the deck. “Oh, Christ … I’m so sorry,” I stammered. “I thought maybe you were into me. You see, I make these mistakes all the time when I’m around cute guys like you.” I put down my beer to leave, but Tyler quickly grabbed my arm. “No, don’t leave,” he said urgently. “You haven’t made a mistake … I mean … I like you, too.” He quickly scanned the deck again. “I was just afraid someone could have seen us,” he explained. “Follow me,” Tyler ordered, and then led me back through the house and up to his room.

    “Fuck, I’ve wanted you from the moment we met in class,” Tyler whispered as he shut the door to his room and pulled me into an embrace. We kissed madly while he pulled off my clothes and I got him out of his athletic shorts. His eight-inch cock was rock hard and I wasted no time in dropping to my knees and sucking him. “Shit, that feels amazing,” Tyler moaned. “Don’t stop,” he begged as I stood up and kissed him, giving him a taste of his precum on my lips. But I wanted more than just sucking his cock, and proceeded to pull him onto the bed with me.

    “You sure you want this?” Tyler asked while I guided his cock to my eager hole. I nodded as he spit on his big dick and began to work it into me. “I’ve only done this once before,” Tyler admitted. “And he was just a random …” But Tyler never finished his thought, for he was soon balls deep inside me. “Fuck this is amazing,” he moaned. He was on top of me, with my legs wrapped around his ass. He raised himself a little higher on his knees and began to give my hole some deep thrusts, causing the bed frame to rattle.

    “Holy fuck, man,” Tyler said urgently. “I’m trying to hold back, but it’s a losing battle.” I gave a little moan as I reached up and stroked the back of his neck. “It’s OK,” I assured him. “I’m ready to feel that cock blasting inside me.” I soon got my wish. “Aww, FUCK … SHIT,” he growled as his cock began to pulse and throb inside me. Tyler collapsed upon me as his balls released the last of his warm load.

    “What the FUCK?” exclaimed a large, oafish, frat guy who had suddenly barged into Tyler’s room. Tyler froze, his cock still resting inside me. “I thought I heard fucking in here, but didn’t realize we had a faggot taking cock tonight,” the drunk oaf roared. He then pulled down his shorts to reveal a fat cock with a huge mushroom head. “Hurry up with that faggot, Tyler. I want to dump my load in him next.”

    Tyler jumped up, his cock still leaking cum, and got in the big oaf’s face. “Get the FUCK out of here, Ethan,” Tyler barked. “You know the rules,” Ethan shouted back. I could smell the beer on his breath as he screamed. “Bitches are off limits … but faggots are fair game,” he continued. “Now get the fuck out of my way and let me fuck this faggot.” Tyler didn’t flinch and stood his ground between me and Ethan. The tension was palpable as they stared each other down. Finally, Ethan turned around and stuffed his fat cock back into his shorts. “You and me are gonna have it out later. This isn’t over,” Ethan threatened as he went back into the hall and slammed the door behind him.

    Tyler fell back on the bed and exhaled in relief. “I’m so sorry about that,” he apologized. “I thought I had locked the door.” He was soon kissing my neck. “I don’t want Ethan to cause trouble for you,” I declared. “He can fuck me if it means he’ll drop this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been passed around a frat house,” I joked. Tyler raised himself up to look at me. “There’s no fucking way I’m going to allow my boyfriend to be the house cum dump,” he exclaimed. Boyfriend? My eyes widened. “That’s not too presumptuous, is it?” Tyler asked bashfully. I answered him with a deep kiss.

    “On that note,” I declared as our lips parted, “I better kiss my boyfriend goodnight. I need to get back to my dorm to study for that quiz in economics tomorrow.” Tyler leaned in and kissed me again. “I suppose I should study, too,” Tyler acquiesced sheepishly. “I’ll see you tomorrow … boyfriend.” Tyler then offered to see me downstairs, but I assured him I knew my way out of the house. He kissed me softly one last time and then closed his door as I made my way down the hallway.

    “Sure you don’t want this big cock, faggot?” a voice came from a room near the stairs. It was Ethan, the drunk oaf, and he had once again pulled down his shorts to reveal his fat cock with the huge mushroom head. Closing his door behind me, I dropped my shorts and presented my used ass to Ethan on his bed. “Fuck, I love sloppy seconds,” he moaned while he stretched my hole with his thick cock. “See if you can round up some more brothers after you breed my ass,” I suggested to Ethan as he began to pummel my hole. “I want to be a dirty cum dump tonight.”

    Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.


    Looking down on his boi with a blank face was just one of the many ways he exerted his power. This freshman pledge to the fraternity did not plan on following the hierarchy, and luckily the president was such a little slut. All he did was get the frat president alone and the boi was worshipping his boy. He knew then he’d be running this house for the next four years.


    Hey, I love your stories, do you think you could gradually make someone a dumb, smelly builder?

    Oh, darling. Haven’t I already made that clear? Or have you forgotten about the last man who asked me to work my magic with desire?

    He’s a fleshlight now, still oozing Joon-tae’s hot cum from his rubber pussy lips. But he got what he wanted. He got to watch a simple young man become the douchebag he desired.

    So don’t try to change your mind, you’re already coming along for the ride. First we have to find our lucky little victim.

    And here he is. Oh, isn’t he precious? I sought out a boy seeking a change, a desire to be something more, and I came across this cute little twink. His name is Ronny, and I think he’ll be pleased with your intentions for him.

    But he’s awfully small, isn’t he? Let’s start by stretching him out. Our bodybuilder fantasy can’t even begin if the foundation can’t support all of that heavy muscle. Isn’t it fun to watch how shocked and happy he is? He’s a whole foot taller now.

    He’ll have to be careful not to smack that cute little face on the doorway. But maybe that’s too simple of a problem. After all if he’s going to live up to your desire, his real struggle should be trying to fit through the door. So let’s blow him up, make him expand to suit that new towering height of his.

    He’s such a cute fledgling bodybuilder! Just starting on his fitness journey. What, you think that’s the kind of buff we’re going for? You asked for dumb, and smelly, and a pretty boy just doesn’t fit the bill for that. He’s too shredded, too prissy. We need to put some hair and extra beef on his chest. And I mean that literally.

    And if you want him to reek, then we’ll need to make sure he can work up a proper sweat. I think the right man for that job has to be well into his prime, a grizzly bear of a guy covered in sticky fur and always shining with his dank filth. Ah, just look at him test out that new body. Ronny is looking more like a Ron.

    Ron the Man.

    Wow, I have to plug my nose just changing him. I made him fuckin’ pungent. Are you enjoying this? Do you like the scent of him up your nose? He’s a man built for getting his pump on and unleashing protein farts at a moment’s notice. Not that he can even think to be ashamed of his poor manners. His mouth is always hanging open in a dumb smile, his eyes always cloudy and glazed over.

    Let’s give him some tattoos and beef up his features just one last time, make him look like the absolute brute of a man you were hoping for. A nice nipple piercing, some sweaty gym clothes, a thicker layer of swampy hair clotting together around his tight asshole. Ronny used to be such a sweet twink.

    But here’s Ron. And as you could imagine, that thick python bulging in his jockstrap is only built for plowing pussy. Not that it’s easy finding a girl when you’re as gross and large as he is, but fuck when he does, they’re a real good bimbo bitch. He loves watching them squirm beneath him, creaming themselves all over his thick cock. He likes watching ‘em gag, too.

    That’s the fucking raw scent of an alpha male.

    And it’s all his. It wafts off of him with every flex, every fart and belch. His muscle gut is a tank full of engine, bloated with protein and testosterone. Watch him bend over and lift his leg, watch him squeeze his face together and laugh like a little kid. Don’t even try to cover up your nose, breathe it in! This is what you wanted.

    This is the dumb, smelly bodybuilder that you were wishing for. You might as well be in the same room as him! Don’t worry. He’s not that scary. The worst he’ll do is rough you up a bit, shove your face between his ass and make you sniff up a fart or two because it’s so funny. But he doesn’t really seem to pay any attention to you as you appear. There’s no reason for that.

    You won’t stay as you for long.

    Because there’s always a price to pay, and there’s a certain place where a guy as bloated and stinky as Ron likes to spend his time. You don’t even have a chance to fight or beg for mercy, you simply begin to harden and shrink and watch as your skin becomes porcelain white. Your mouth is trapped as a permanent, silent scream. There’s something wet rising in your mouth, but you’re not drowning.

    You’re just a dirty toilet, a throne fit for a reeking king. I’m going to turn your senses back on, let you taste and smell and feel the man you helped me create, but I’m gonna stop listening to you. I have a feeling you’ll be screaming and crying for the rest of your existence. But don’t worry. You’ll have Ron for company! Every few hours he’ll come waddling over, always grunting and cursing and rubbing one out as he unleashes all of his loads into your mouth.

    He’s so dumb that he always forgets to flush. He’s already so smelly that he doesn’t realize just how filthy he really is.

    And he’s exactly the man you wanted him to be. Enjoy him.


    The name is Misha. I have two sisters and three brothers but they’re not particularly involved in this story.

    I’m eighteen. So I’m legal. Don’t worry. All the salacious things I do in this story are on the up and up. Before I show you what I look like now, I figure I should start at the beginning. This is how it started. Look at me.

    I didn’t look half bad. But I had to get bigger. I had to get stronger. I have three brothers I have to catch up to. Three shadows to step out from under. I tried exercising and I joined gyms but nothing was helping. My body wasn’t getting bigger or stronger.

    Then I was approached.

    I was walking home. There he was. A guy I had seen a few times in the gym but he was bigger now than he had been two weeks ago. Taller. At least half a foot. Thicker. He was coated in sweat and playing basketball. He peered over and motioned me over.

    “Come here.” He said with a smile that could moisten any woman up. His biceps flexed as he pointed at the ground in front of him. His pecs popped. Not gonna lie, my cock twitched.

    I walked over. Stood where he pointed.

    “You trying to pump up? I see you at the gym a lot.”

    “Yeah. I want… To look like You.”

    That made his smirk widen. “Me, huh? What if I said you could… Be like me… And bigger?”

    I looked at him. His thick full pecs. His abs. His thick biceps. They were big. I looked down. He saw my eyes trailing. He smirked and lifted his shorts. He showed off those thick thighs. Then he cupped his stuffed package.

    “Like the view, little jock?” I could see the fat tube of his cock as he gripped his crotch and flexed his thighs.

    “I can… Get… Bigger than this?”

    He grinned. “Yes. Bigger… Here…. Here.. Here…” He patted his chest, biceps, thighs, then gave his cock a stroke. “And here…”

    Something about it made my knees weak. Something about the way it pulsed within the confines of his shorts, throbbed between thick thighs. I wanted to see it.

    “I… I want… To be bigger. Make me like you.”

    He patted my shoulder. “Alright. Follow me. I got a gym for you to join.”

    “A gym? I’m already in a gym.”

    He laughed. “That’s not a gym. That’s bull. I go there to recruit people for a real gym. I find the ones with the most potential. And right now. It’s you. Name’s Blaine. Let’s go. The Himbo Project is where you need to be… Now first. What’s your name?”


    The building he took me to didn’t look like much. But when I went inside it was not what I expected.

    There were the usual pieces of workout equipment. But none of that caught my eye quite like all the men around. All the built. Sweaty. Muscular. Thickly built. Half naked. Tall. Jocks. The area had a circulating air purifier. But even then the whole building smelled of men. Of testosterone. Of raw pure masculinity.

    One walked over. His eyes falling in me. He had four inches of height on me. His body glistening under the lights.

    “Yo. Blaine. This the newbie?” The guy spoke with an accent. His pecs bounced with each breath.

    “This is him. His name is Misha. Misha, this is Luis. He’s been with us for a month. He looked like you when he got here. He’s going to help you get stronger. Bigger. Luis, remember, no rough stuff.”

    “Oh come on. The last guy liked it… ” Luis sneered and slapped his own pec. “Ok. Fine. Come on. Gonna give you your first case of Jock Brews. Will tell you how the different types of brew work. Then you choose whichever you want. Then… Well the fun begins…”


    There are several kinds of Jock Serum. They came in cans that made me think of beer. Jock Serum: Original, Jock Serum X-Treme, Jock Serum XXXL, and Jock Serum XXXL Max.

    “The original is good. Weakest type. Good for beginners.” Made sense. It was the largest can. Looking like a 32 ounce beer can. “The Max is the strongest stuff.” Luis explained. It’s why it comes in smaller bottles. Like those 5 hour energy drink shots.

    “I want the Max.” Luis looked at me as I said that.

    “You got balls, kid.” He said with a smirk. “This stuff is strong. And there’s side effects.”

    “Don’t care. I want it.”

    Luis nodded and motioned to the small case on the table. “Take one and let’s go. Your training starts now.”

    I emptied the small bottle. I felt the effects immediately. I could do do this…


    I forgot how it’s been. Time just flew by during training. Strength, durability, stamina. It was grueling. I also downed so many of the tiny bottles; one at a time at first then I got impatient. I chugged four of them.

    That night I underwent the biggest change. The pain surpassed everything else. Then came the pleasure. I called for Luis and he saw what I did… But, rather than rat me out, he took me to “the education annex” in the basement of the gym. He sat me down.

    “You want to get bigger… Right? Look at you. Looking good. Better than before. Now though comes the real training…”

    “Real training?” My chest felt tighter in my shirt. My biceps felt bigger.

    “I’m going to put this VR headset on you… And you’re going to sit back… But first. Drink.” He held out a bottle of XXXL Max. Bigger than the others. I chugged it. He slid the VR set over my head. The earphones slid on comfortably.

    “Hey, Bro. Can you hear me?” The voice echoed in my ears. “Stand up if you can. Good… Look at the colors. They’re nice, right? Sink into them. Like quicksand. Sink into the colors.”

    I felt heavy yet weightless. I was standing. I had gotten up. On command.

    “Time for you to learn what this whole gym is about, Bro. Gonna learn what the Himbo Project and the Serum are for. What you were selected for. You’re not just any guy picked up off the street. You’re a bro. Well, you will be. You will be soon enough. For now, sink into the colors. Swirling, pulsing, writhing light, let it burrow into your subconscious. Let my voice sink into your brain. Your cute tiny and soon to be shrinking brain. You’re smart. But you won’t be for long. 

    Here’s what I want you to do. You took that concentrated XXXLMax. It’ll hit you in a second. When you do, the pain is going to wash over you like a goddamn tidal wave. Fight through it. Bite your lip. Flex. That’s what you need to do. Flex. Feel it? Feel it now? Washing over you? Pulsing pain, throbbing pain, coursing through your body?”

    The pain hit as he said it, as he spoke about it. It was like an electrical charge down my spine. I groaned, stars flashing before my eyes as the pain increased.

    “Flex. Flex you stupid ass. Flex you dumb motherfucker. Flex!”

    I raised my arm. It felt like lead. I flexed my bicep. Immediately, there was pleasure. It coursed through me, starting at the bicep then spreading out. Another pulse of pain and I gasped.

    “Flex again. Come on, bro. You know you felt that. You felt that pleasure. Flex.”

    I flexed again, my bicep thickening and bulging as I did so and the pleasure washing over me.

    “Oh, Oh Fuck.” I groaned and writhed a bit on my feet. 

    “Good boy. Listen to my voice. Take it in. Let it sink into your mind. Your brain is shrinking. Your intelligence is slipping. All that matters is getting big, getting jocked, getting swole, bigger hot, getting sweaty. Be a bro. Flex.”

    I did. The pleasure coursed through me again.

    “You’re gonna be so stupid, bro. You’re gonna smile like an idiot when someone calls you dumb. Flex again. Both arms this time.”

    I shuddered, both arms raised, flexed, and the pleasure increased, doubled, spread.

    “You’re growing. Getting bigger. Your body is growing. Every time you flex, you get bigger. You get dumber. You feel it, don’t you? Yeah. Keep going. The bigger you get, the dumber you get. Flex. Yeah, don’t stop. You want to flex, you want to show off, you want to empty your brain. Thinking is an anchor, it keeps you from getting bigger, getting stronger, getting swole. Stop thinking. Don’t think. All you need to worry about is being a bro.

    Flex.” The voice repeated. I did. 

    My biceps thickened. Ballooned. I felt them. I felt the muscles expand and with each expansion, I felt pleasure. I could feel it coursing through my veins. I was breathing heavily, panting.

    “You are going to be a bro. A big muscle jock. A sweaty, smelly, stupid, strong, hot jock. You’ll live for being a bro. You’ll be a big muscle bitch. Yes, a bitch. That’s what you’re here for. This is what this training is for. To train you. To change you. To make you into what you want to be.

    A whore. A big thick muscle whore. A dick pig. A cock slut. Make that jock hole between those thick cheeks a deep greedy muscle pussy.

    You’ll exist to suck cock. You’ll live to get pumped. And get pumped; full of fat throbbing cock. Black, white, Arab, it doesn’t matter who it’s from. You’ll love it. You need it. You want your slut jock hole filled, used, gaped, abused, flooded, again and again. 


    I groaned, my body stretched and ballooned, I felt the growth. I felt my shirt getting tighter. Too tight. I felt hands on me.

    “Stay still, bro,” Luis said. I could hear him through the headphones, far but he was standing in front of me. He tore the shirt open. It fell to the ground. I didn’t see it but I felt it.

    The voice in my ears continued. “Get dumb. Forget your thoughts. Clear your thoughts. Think of getting bigger, swole, think of that, nothing else. Nothing else matters. Flex. Moan. Be a good bitch. A good muscle slut. Your thick perfect beefy ass will be desired by men all over. They’ll see it. They’ll want it. And you will be happy to give it up, to raise that juicy ass up, to beg them to fuck it, to pound it, to beat it into submission. You’ll straddle any and all men that present their cocks to you and you’ll ride, you’ll post, until they empty themselves into you, and then you’ll move to the next man, and repeat, again and again. This is what you’ll be.”

    Images flashed across my eyes. Images of men. Jocks. Muscular. Hot. Sweaty. Dumb.

    “Look at them. Bros. Sweaty. Stupid. Swole. Big. Thick juicy cheeks. See them? You’ll look like that soon.

    Watch those cheeks. Watch them jiggle. Watch them work.”

    The two jocks stripped out of their singlets. Muscles flexing. Bulging. Thick biceps and full round pecs. They approached a man. He’s got a muscle gut. Wearing a hat that says Coach.

    “Love Coach. Follow his orders. Coach is King. Coach is God. Coach will send you to the men who’ll use you. You exist to be used. To be a pumped up fuck pig contantly hungry for cock, insatiable. Watch them work. Watch them twerk. Dance. Flex. Now, bro. Flex.”

    My pants felt tight. I flexed again. My shorts ripped down the side.

    “Watch them work. Watch them suck. Watch them swallow that daddy cock. That could be you. That will be you. You’ll be a jock. You’ll be dumb. You’ll be horny… And always prepared to flex.”

    I removed the headset. Luis was standing there. Smirking. Cock bulging his shorts. He was slowly stroking it. He had watched me.

    “Mirror. Go look at your new body… Enjoy it… You’re going to get bigger soon… If you like what you see… Come thank me. On your knees…jock slut.”

    The Donkey Order

    I want to thank pjs666 on tumblr for creating the manipulations for this post. If you want to see more of his work please visit his tumblr at https://pjs666.tumblr.com/


    Jack might’ve neglected some of his duties for the Order by spending more time with Alyssa and his fellow Knights. It finally caught up to him when the highest member of the Order figured out that he’d been slacking. That’s how he got stuck on stable duty. Alyssa handed him a shovel, “I know it sucks, but you have to get in the Grand Magus’s good graces once again.” He begrudgingly took it. “Can’t I use magic to clean up the stalls?” Alyssa just shook her head, “you can’t use magic to get out of everything Jack.” He smirked as she left, “we’ll see about that.” Once he was sure she was gone he pulled out his spell book from his bag. “Okay, lets find a clean up spell.” Unbeknownst to him the Grand Magus watched from her office waiting to teach him a lesson.

    Looking through he found the clean up spell they used in the dungeons. Jack looked over the words multiple times before speaking, “quos vesci licitum.” The shovel began to move on its own, picking up the muck in the stalls. Pleased with himself he grabbed his textbook and sat down to study. “Oh Jack you foolish boy. I admire how you find ways to make life simple, but you can’t always do it the easy way,” Vera, the Grand Magus, said finding the perfect spell to teach Jack a lesson.

    Jack sat there reading scratching his arm. The feeling grew more intense and when he pulled up the sleeve on his jacket, he noticed a group of hairs on his arm. “What the?” He said trying to wipe them off. That didn’t seem to work as the hairs started to spread over more areas of his arm. He wiped it a few more times, but the hair had now spread to his other arm. “Uh oh,” he said realizing these weren’t loose hairs. Springing up to his feet he felt a pain in his toes. He couldn’t get his shoes off fast enough as he pulled his socks off with them. The tips of his toes were darkening the toes merging into one lump. Panic settled in as he searched through the spell book. His toes clicked on the floor becoming hooves.


    (Provided by PJS666)

    “Hey Jack!” Randall called walking up. “Everything o,” he paused staring at Jack on his hands and knees scouring his spell book. He began to burst out laughing seeing the long ears Jack sported. “Oh man this is rich.” He came into the stall with him. “You need help?” He was doing his best to stifle his laughter. “Shut up, hawww,” Jack shoved his hands over his mouth. Randall began laughing again, “oh man that’s hee-hawwww.” Randall stopped laughing immediately. “Jack what did you do?” Jack just glared at him, “I didn’t do anything!” Both their nostrils flared, and they got a full whiff of themselves. “Oh god, is that smell us?” Randall gagged while his ears grew long and tall. “I think so,” Jack sniffed.

    “Jack don’t just stand there we need to get out of here,” Randall was heading toward the fresh air when the gate swung shut. He tried to pull at the gate, but it proved impossible to open. Growling he felt a strength growing inside him as his eyes turned an icy blue. Jack was about to join in to help him tear through the wood when he heard a ripping sound. Randall’s tight blue jeans split down the middle as his ass swelled. A nice thick tail rolled out from the top of his underwear as he moaned. “Jack, heeee hawwwwllpp,” Randall brayed turning to face him. There was no denying the damage that had been done. A enlarged package was barely being contained by his underwear, a large wet spot forming on the front.


    (Provided by PJS666)

    Jack wasn’t sure what to do, he was at a loss hearing the sound of his own jeans splitting. Randall sat down unable to help himself as he began to fondle the front of his underwear. “No Randall stop! Don’t do that!” Randall couldn’t stop himself as a pelt of black fur poked through the top of his collar and then down underneath. “Jack heeelppp hee haw,” Randall brayed again as the elastic on his underwear gave way releasing his thick large speckled black donkey dick. The smell hit Jack forcing him down to his knees as his own cock reacted pushing against the pouch of his underwear. Jack reached inside noting the shape was still human for the moment.

    Jack looked over to Randall pawing at his member with his fused fist. “Randall you need to staaaaawwwpp,” he begged. Randall couldn’t stop; the hormones had built up so quickly inside him he couldn’t focus on anything other than getting to release. He was grunting in frustration as hooves no longer provided the ability to rub his shaft properly. Jack looked down at the puddle forming in front of Randall’s cock, the pre flowing out like a leaky faucet. “Oh god,” he groaned watching Randall bend forward licking the head of his new enlarged member. It was speeding up his transformation as his chest pushed out, his abs disappearing when his belly grew. Thick brown hair was running down his legs ballooning it with muscle too. “Randall you have to stop! Look at yourself!” Jack was begging his friend to quit, but Randall’s face was already pushing out giving him better access. Jack could only watch in horror as his friend gave in.

    A loud bray and a satisfied looking Randall let Jack know the deed had been done. Cum was dripping from Randall’s lips. He stared at Jack in a dumb horny expression showing that his intelligence had dropped significantly. “Hello Mr. Morton and,” the Grand Magus looked at the donkey slowly getting to his feet. “Is that Mr. Carpio?” Jack nodded, “please help us.” The smile she gave him was terrifying, “I’ll help you Jack, but first you need to clean the stalls like you were instructed to do.” Jack frowned, “please it’s hard to do it like this.” Jack surveyed himself noting he still had hands, but his feet were now hooves. “I’ll give you back your feet,” she said with a wave of her hand. He groaned watching his hooves unharden and turn back into flesh. “Please Vera, the rest of me?” She grinned, “you’ll figure it out Jack, or you’ll end up like him,” she said while pointing at Randall. He didn’t like his options, but started looking for a broom to sweep and do as he was told.

    Randall followed him from stall to stall as he cleaned. The transformation he’d been undergoing was slowing down as he got closer to accomplishing his tasks, but it hadn’t stopped progressing. By the time he was working on the last stall his hips had grown much wider and was pushing his jeans to their limits. Groaning in discomfort he stopped for a moment dropping the broom in the process, as he bent over to retrieve it his pants gave way the denim ripping more until it fell to the ground in tatters. Filled with embarrassment he grabbed hold of the broom and was starting to get back up when he felt something warm and wet run over his hole. He jumped forward and fell to the ground; sprawling across it as Randall walked over and licked his hole again.

    Pre started to leak through the front of his underwear as Randall continued to lick. “Randall stawwwp,” he moaned trying to crawl away. He pushed Randall away and got back on his feet noticing his hands balling into fists. Randall took advantage of Jack’s moment of inattentiveness as he pushed Jack back up against one of the stall walls burying his muzzle into Jack’s groin. Jack had to act fast or Randall was going to force him to do something he didn’t want to do. Randall nuzzles his cock out of his underwear giving it a lick. The feeling forced jack to slide down onto the floor with his back pressed against the stall. “Randall please I gotta saaaaaaveee us,” he bellowed but he couldn’t stop Randall from giving him a stiff one. Jack couldn’t stop his friend as he started licking the flat head of Jack’s new donkey member. He tried pushing him away as much as he could, but he wasn’t as strong yet his muscles slowly growing. As Randall was pushing him closer to the edge he knew the changes were speeding up. His shoes were pushing out as his legs grew. He knew inside his shoes the chances of him still having toes was slim.

    He kept pushing against Randall even when his hands turned into hooves. He was braying more and speaking less as the pleasure was building. Randall continued to lap his shaft causing Jack’s focus to break as he gave into the pleasure. He forgot his mission and was content letting Randall finish his transformation as the thick brown hide grew in over his body. His muzzle was pushing out as he tried to cling onto the last hope of his humanity. His vision went blurry and his mind was growing hazy. He let out one last groan when he erupted like a geyser. Thick ropes of cum shot from his donkey member, the pleasure was indescribable as his mind dumped out his humanity with it. Randall stepped back licking the cum from his fur, he looked into the eyes of a beast as Jack slowly got back to his hooves. Both boys didn’t remember much from before, their minds were shaped for more important things like eating and enjoying the other’s company. Randall gave Jack a few sniffs before licking him as they laid down nuzzling against each other.

    “Okay times up,” the Grand Magus stepped around the corner seeing the two donkeys sniffing each other. “Oh bad break boys,” she smiled and closed the door to the stall. “I’ll come check on you guys again in a few weeks, maybe then you’ll be ready to do the work without cheating.” She walked away laughing debating on if she’d keep them like this for a few weeks or a few months.


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    Public Health Warning

    Every year the same stories would appear in the news over and over. Some hysterical parent days before Halloween would appear on the news shouting about razor blades inside chocolate bars or medication being passed off as candy.

    Liam never believed any of the stories. It was all for ratings. So this Halloween he ignored the stories, even though they seemed louder and more complex then normal. It wasn’t drugs or blades this time, it was a chemical spill in China being blamed for contaminating candy.

    Just as Liam was taking his younger brother, who was way too old, out to trick or treat a government warning had cut into the regular programming on the tv.

    In a loud monotone voice it warned every citizen to avoid Halloween branded candy, to dispose of Halloween branded candy and to seek medical attention it Halloween branded candy was ingested. But Liam was already out the door with a rubber mask over his face while his younger brother stormed ahead dressed as a wizard.

    The streets were dead, a lot of houses while decorated in plastic ghouls and lit pumpkins never answered their doors, and only a few had candy on the porch.

    Those ones with candy didn’t even look like they’d been touched.

    Liam thought it odd, he hadn’t seen anyone else walking the streets. Not a single gaggle of trick or treaters, only Liam and his brother Scotty.

    Scotty wasn’t complaining he was taking huge handfuls of candy, and even completely emptied a few bowls of abandoned candy.

    Liam hasn’t touched the candy, he’d been trying to stay fit for school and didn’t want to ruin his chance for six pack abs by the end of the year.

    Scotty though was greedily shovelling candy into his mouth. He had always been a heavy kid, but as Liam looked at him Scotty didn’t appear to be carrying any of the girth he’d always had.

    He actually looks very trim, and taller. Maybe he was just standing straighter. Liam tried to change his posture, even walking on his top toes just to get the correct height difference between him and Scotty.

    They’d done a circuit of their neighbourhood and Liam decided to head back. The streets were too quiet and Scotty’s bag was already overflowing with candy.

    Liam was surprised Scotty could handle the weight, but his brothers arms seemed to be thicker.

    Normally Scotty would break a sweat walking down a long flight of stairs. But he was almost glowing, his reddish hair was bright and bouncy, his skin lightly tanned and flawless.

    It wasn’t the skin of a guy who spent zero time in the sun and ate nothing but greasy food.

    Liam watched his brother the entire walk back. When he wasn’t eating his candy Scotty kept complaining, either his shoes were tight or his shirt was choking him.

    Liam pretended it was just Scotty being annoying, but Scotty did look different.

    It might of just been that Liam hadn’t looked at his brother properly for ages, but then again Scotty was looking a bit beefy. The shirt under his wizard cloak was riding up rippling abs and was being drawn tight over bulging pecs.

    The two boys got home and Liam was about to go call his parents when he noticed the TV was still on. The news running with a breaking news story.

    “Mass contamination of Halloween candy”

    Liam just stood and watched. Scotty vanished off into the kitchen with his bag of candy in hand. His footfalls sounding a lot heavier than normal.

    The news continued.

    “A public health warning had been issued with a nation wide recall of all confectionery”

    “A massive chemical spill in China”

    Liam turned his head away from the tv, the ripping sound of fabric came from the kitchen.

    He called for Scotty, who only replied with muffled chewy.

    Liam found Scotty sitting on the kitchen counter, now shirtless with his toned meaty torso on full show. The remains of his shirt spread out on the kitchen floor, it looked like he’d torn it off. He was taller and looked more his age then ever before, maybe even older.

    Scotty was still eating the candy, the contaminated candy.

    Before Liam could warn his little brother Scotty grunted between mouthfuls of chocolate.

    His larger feet suddenly slapped the floor, his ass still firmly planted on the counter.

    Liam gulped, Scotty had just grown a foot of height in a second flat and it looked like he was about to grow again.

    Scotty hadn’t noticed and reached for a fresh bar of candy.

    A Helpful Pamphlet

     While searching through a dusty and forgotten box of books and papers that you found in your grandfathers attic, you pull out a small, brightly colored pamphlet that caught your eye. On the cover is a photo of a young, incredibly attractive man in a tank top, grinning up at you in a cocky, seductive, almost hypnotizing way. Above him is a a bright, bold title, reading “The 5 steps of jockification, with pictures!”

    Bemused, you turn to the first page of the packet, and begin to read

    Step 1: Denial

    As the jockification process begins, the new jock will at first not believe what is happening to them, perhaps first dismissing them as mere tricks of the light, or perhaps believing that they just look particularly good today. However, through their obliviousness, the physical changes persist, abs, pecs, biceps and other muscles steadily growing and becoming more defined, face squaring off, becoming more masculine, hair growing healthier and more stylish. Eventually, too the things around them will start to change, their pants becoming much more fashionable, their shirt melting away, or else changing to suit their new physique and appearance. At some point, however, the new jock will inevitably notice the changes in themselves, and realize that this is, in fact, real (pictured below)


    You laugh to yourself, reading this strange passage. Does whoever wrote this really think that things like can actually happen? This must be some kind of elaborate joke, a satire of some kind. Still you have to admire the dedication and descriptiveness of it, so you turn the page and continue reading, interested to see what the rest of the pamphlet holds in store

    Step 2: Examination

    Now that the new jock has realized that what’s happening to him is, in fact, 100 percent real, he begins to, out of curiosity, examine himself and the changes he’s undergone. He lifts his arms up, examining every muscle and flexing them, amazed at their new and impressive size. His eyes are drawn to his deep cut abs, creating a perfect v, bringing the eyeline straight down to his newly enlarged bulge. Eventually, either through a mirror, or perhaps a phone, he’ll begin scanning his face, taking in the square jaw, the piercing eyes, the perfect lips. Of course, through all of this, he won’t notice that the panic that was once overwhelming him is steadily subsiding, and his thoughts are starting to slow down as he’s filled with a sense of contentment (pictured below)


    You chuckle to yourself again, thoroughly amazed at what you’re reading. Somebody really took the time to write up and print out a pamphlet detailing something so ridiculous and improbable. And to spell it all out as if it was pure fact, it makes it even more insane. Still, you had to admit, it was kind of a fun read, and you shift in your seat, adjusting your tee shirt, stretched uncomfortably  tight over your muscles before turning to the next page and continuing reading

    Step 3: Acceptance

    By this point, the new jock has, rather unwittingly, found himself at peace with the changes he’s undergone. He takes another look at himself, taking time to adjust his hair, perhaps toying around with an accessory or two, or tracing his fingers along his hard muscles almost absentmindedly. Thoughts continue to drain out of his head, leaving him nuch dumber than before, and that only helps speed up the process exponentially. Finally, and with a small smile, he realizes. He looks good. REAL good. And with that single thought, without so much as a warning, the final phase of his jockification begins (pictured below)


    This time, you hardly stop to think before turning over the page to the next section of the booklet. You’re very excited to read and learn about what the final phase of jockification is like, and finishing this pamphlet is the only way you’ll ever find that out.

    Step 4: Broification

    At this point, the new jock has undergone all the physical changes necessary to be considered a new jock, but is still lacking the attitude required to truly be one. Luckily, however, with that single thought from the last step, the new jock has unwittingly invited every single change required, giving them open access to himself. As he continues to look at his new body, cocky, narcissistic thoughts begin flooding his head. He doesn’t just look good! No, he realizes as he begins flexing and posing to himself in the mirror, he’s not just good looking! He’s HOT! In fact, in his, he’s one of the hottest guys he’s ever met, if not THE hottest. With that, as well, comes a new appreciation for other bro’s hotness, straight out of nowhere. Of course no one could really understand how hot he is, except for another hot bro like himself. As he thinks that, his brain continues to drain, space that was once reserved for knowledge like math or vocabulary now being filled with thoughts of going to the gym, hitting the beach with his bros, and other such jock activities. Soon enough, the new jock is complete, indistinguishable from any and all of his equally dull, vain friends, completely oblivious to who he used to be before this day. As almost a sort of ritual, nearly every time the new jock will take their phone, raise it up, make a dumb, cocky face, and take a selfie, ready to upload it as the first of MANY new photos of himself about to make their way to Instagram. (Pictured below)


    You smile to yourself before letting out a low chuckle. That was a good read! A bit hard to understand at points (You’ll have to ask your bros what narcissistic and oblivious mean later) but still a super interesting topic and really hot! The idea of a lame nerd becoming a hot jock sounds amazing, but too good to be true. You go to put the pamphlet away before catching a glimpse of the cover again, and slapping yourself in the forehead. There were FIVE steps! You skipped one! (You really can be such a dumbass sometimes). Laughing, you grab the pamphlet back and turn to the last page, quickly reading

    Step 5: Look in the mirror, take a pic, and enjoy!

    Confused at why the booklet would say that, you smile and shrug anyway, grabbing out your phone, and preparing for a mirror selfie. Damn you look good today! Seeing a great opportunity, you decide to show off, lifting your shirt up all the way, revealing your impressive pecs and abs, and sticking your tongue out in a cocky expression that says “I’m sexy and I know it”. You take a couple different versions of the pic, pleased to see how great they all look. You pick the best one, swiftly uploading it to your strangely empty Instagram, already ready for the likes to roll in. Almost ready to leave, you turn back to the pamphlet. Maybe you could make copies of it? You know of plenty of friends who’d probably enjoy it just as much as you did…


    Douchebro Epidemic: Patient Zero

    Maximum Genetic Research Facility: 4:50 PM

    The scientists at the research facility were currently in the process of closing up shop, putting away chemicals, returning test subjects to their cages, and doing tons and tons of security checks, making sure none of the highly volatile chemicals and formulas they were working on were compromised in any way. At least, that's what most of them were doing.

    Eric Swinton had had a long, long day at work and he couldn't wait to be home. Another day, another 8 hours of fruitless research into the head scientist's impossible dream of a so called "vitality serum", which he somehow thought could be achieved with a mix of testosterone and a bath of other chemicals. It was absolutely ridiculous, and everyday Eric cursed being assigned to the project. So, in his bad mood, he wasn't taking much care in putting everything away and locking it up properly, not noticing when he spilled a vial of the formula on the counter, not even when he accidentally ran his hand through some of it. As he left, he noticed his hand was wet, but assumed it was water, wiping it off on his clothes while he raced to catch his bus.

    As he waited for the bus, he felt a tickle in the back of his throat, and coughed slightly into his hand, clearing it for a few minutes before it came back. So he sat there, coughing repeatedly, not realizing that as he did so, they got more and more frequent over time. Still, he was unperturbed by this, assuming that he probably just picked up some sort of bug as he was riding the bus in the morning. Its not like the lab was working on any infectious disease at the moment, so he had nothing to worry about.

    So, Eric remained blissfully unaware of what was happening to him as he climbed onto the bus, still coughing lightly, but completely unaware of the other side effects happening to him. Normally a 50 year old, stocky, balding man, Eric's body was seemingly completely rejecting those facts, as his appearance was quickly shifting towards that of someone half his age or less. The hair on his head grew, the thin, almost nonexistent grey becoming a stylish, thick brown. The fat that he'd built up over years of drinking and not exercising was melting off his body, being replaced with hard, lean muscle. Even his face was looking like that of someone who was at most 22: Smooth skin, nice eyes, and with none of the roundness previously characteristic of the scientist.

    Perhaps, however, Eric wasn't noticing the frequent physical changes , because of the mental changes occurring simultaneously as he sat on that crowded public bus. His thoughts slowed gradually, becoming less and less intelligent, as his reality shifted in his own mind from a respected scientist who had worked at the lab for many years, to a kid who just signed up for a side job at this stupid lab for a couple months. And with the decreased intelligence, came a sudden increase in cockiness as well. Who were those eggheads at the lab to boss him around? Those dumb old fucks wasted their lives researching all this stupid shit instead of living, and they wanted to take that frustration out on him, just cause he knew how to actually enjoy his life. So fucking annoying. You know what? Tomorrow he'd march into that head scientist's office and tell him that if he wanted him to stay, then he could suck his fucking dick, cause there was nothing else at that dead end job worth staying for.

    He slowly chuckled to himself at the thought. The guy would be so pissed if he said that, probably screaming at him to get out, but it would be worth it. Or maybe the guy would blush and say yes, completely making a fool of himself. Not like Eric would actually let him do it, no way he'd ever go for a guy that old.

    And so, by the end of his ride on the bus, Eric was a completely different man, though his cough had finally subsided, and he had a much more enjoyable life to look forward to now. He got off the bus quickly, ready to have a fun night, and probably hit the club's later, when he heard a voice call "Eric, hold on!" from behind him.

    He turned around, to say a very overweight man

    in a suit jacket and a tie behind him, his next door neighbor in the apartment building, Josh. Josh was a nice guy, actually, even if he tried a bit too hard to be one of the young guys, and had gotten Eric the job at the lab, in fact. They often took the same bus home as well, so Eric saw him fairly frequently, though now Josh was walking up to him, worried.

    "Are you okay, I heard you coughing a lot on the ride home. Are you coming down with something, do ya think?"

    Eric laughed his concern off nonchalantly, saying

    "Nah bro, I think I just had something caught in my throat. I'm all good now. Thanks for asking though, bro, you're really nice~" before heading up to his apartment swiftly. Immediately he knew the first thing he wanted to do as well. He stripped off his dumb ass work uniform, put on a pair of hot pink shorts, and went to his bathroom to take a mirror selfie, giving a cocky expression and flipping off the mirror.

    Satisfied with the result, he smiled, opening up instagram to upload it alongside his dozens of other thirst trap photos that had garnered him thousands of followers. As he was typing in the caption, (Last day of work! Gonna quit tomorrow, so fucking excited!), he heard coughing coming from the wall that separated his and Josh's apartment, but he paid it no mind, sending the post off to the world, before heading back to his bedroom to get ready for a fun night...

    Brandon was a genius. Likely the smartest person ever to have existed, with an IQ over 300.

    By the time he was 15 he had invented "The Machine". A device that can change reality itself. But, it had to be balanced, tit for tat. He could transfer things, morph things, but never create from nothing.

    -"So you know the deal, 5 lbs of muscle gets you 1 iq point. 1 inch of cock get you 5 iq points. 1 point in attractiveness get 10 iq points. Anything else, we can work out."

    Fuck, was it really worth it. You had spent the last decade slaving away in the gym, and even won some junior bodybuilding competitions. At 230lbs of pure muscle I guess you could afford to loose a few lbs... And if you failed another class your parents were gonna cut you off.

    "Fine, let's start with 20 lbs of muscle..."

    -"Sounds good"

    The machine whirred to life, emanating a strange vibrating energy. A flash of light and it was over.

    You open your eyes and everything seems... brighter, simpler even, if just slightly.

    You look at Brandon, his already muscular body was now strain his shirt.

    -"Mmmm fuck yeah, better than any drug around."

    Brandon begins to flex each muscle, clearly enjoying the massive he took from you, as the impression in his pants shows his python cock is clearly getting hard.

    -"How did you like it? Pretty sweet Hmmm? Now I know how badly your struggling. You'd probably need another 25 IQ points atleast"

    Fuck... He's right. I have always been told I'm a 10,so I guess I could loose a few points, and my cock is above average....

    "OK, Ummm how about 2 points in attractiveness and an inch of cock...?"

    -"Hehe fuck yeah."

    Another flash, and it felt like my head was on fire. Like drinking 10 cups of coffee without the jitters. I felt like I could actually feel myself get smarter.

    -"Ohhh fuck yeah! FUCKKKK." Brandon boomed.

    His already hard cock now on the brink of ripping through his pants. His face now remolded to that of a model. His glasses even disappeared.

    -"Fuckkkk, feels so fucking good bro... Help me out for another point?" he says, reaching into his pants and pulling out a soda can think, massive 13inch shank of meat.

    ... I better fucking pass my classes...


    Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

    "Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

    Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

    As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

    He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

    Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

    Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

    "Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

    With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

    Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

    "Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

    The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

    Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

    "So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

    The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

    "What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

    At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

    Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

    "Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

    The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

    "What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

    At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

    "Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

    The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

    "Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

    At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

    "Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

    Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

    "Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

    Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

    "And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

    Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

    "And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

    Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

    "I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

    Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

    "Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

    "What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

    Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

    "Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

    Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

    "More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

    "And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

    Jason laughed again

    "I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

    "Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

    Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

    "And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

    Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

    "And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

    Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

    "What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

    Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

    "But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

    Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

    "Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

    "Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

    Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

    "You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

    Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

    "Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

    He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

    "You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

    And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

    And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...


    Carl, Benjamin and Jonas watched Jason's stream in Carl's basement, connecting it to the LED screen. The 3 nerds, fellow players live in the town nearby to Jason's, actually know Jason rather personally due to their residence proximity.

    But when this shirtless jock appeared on Jason screen, the 3 nerds were surprised.

    "Yo, did you switch the channel or anything?"

    "No Carl, I----"

    Even before they were able to finish their argument, Jace already bounced his pecs with Ethan joining the stream providing this deep, chuckling noise as the background. Soon, the 3 string beans college sophomore started to grunt and moan as their bodies started to grow

    It doesn't take long before the 3 college sophomore Cole, Brad and Joe already lost in their own lust, ready to get the fuck out from Cole's basement to have the proper summer in the sunny beach by day and partying hard with their fellow frat boys by night. But first, they gotta show Jace how big of a mess they created with their load for a chance to collab in Jace's future stream.

    ( Such a hot story btw @hotcoffeetransformation )

    Just a Phase

    Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

    It wasn't like I was at one place and then suddenly another. It was more like I'd been suddenly awakened from sleep and couldn't tell when I fell asleep, or really what I did before going to bed. I was sitting in the abductor, thank God, so while there was a loud metal noise when I suddenly dropped the weights it appeared more like an inconsiderate douche move than a horrible accident. Had I been using any pull machines, or worse, done free weights, this would have gone much different. Now I didn't catch more attention than a few glances. No, the only one really in shock was me. First I was racking my brain on where I was. My memory was like pulling taffy. I stared at my arm. What I saw was impossible. The arms moved as I commanded them to, but they were easy twice the size of what they should be, and covered in veins.

    Shaken I got up and staggered towards where I vaguely recalled the locker room was. What was the last thing I could remember? I'd been to class and was leaving campus. I think I strayed into the industrial lot with the dumpsters. Did I dumpster dive? I think I did.

    There wasn't really any thought at all in my head as I faced the mirror just inside the locker room. The face looked the same as always. Perhaps a bit flush and a bit more chiseled. The hair was all trimmed down to half-inch at the longest, shorter on the sides. A silly little beard on the chin, about the same length. But the body. The body was nowhere near the same. Everything was wider, by a lot. Still unable to fully grasp reality I grabbed the loose sleeveless T-shirt, pulled it over my head, and just dropped it on the floor while my eyes remained transfixed on my mirror image. I was a beast.

    I could feel my brain clawing back memories. Memories of me signing up at the gym. Memories of me doing food prep. Memories of me having long ago settled arguments of how I wasted my time and neglected my studies. I remember friends lost and new friendships forged. How long had it been? My face didn't look that much older, but I faintly remembered celebrating one year without cheat meals with a midnight marathon. Despite all of it feeling like the lingering memory of a dream I instantly knew I had no choice but continue from here. Where I was and who I was in the past was gone.

    As my eyes glanced over my body trying to remember how it got to where it is I kept glancing at the pendant between my massive pecs. I had no recollection of it except a very distinct feeling of unease. Carefully, almost with dread, I pulled the chain over my head and held it in my hand. The pendant was smooth, featureless, but almost cold to the touch. I threw it into the nearest trashcan, happy to be rid of it. Don't know why.

    This was the picture I received on tumblr with an exciting message. This guy said he had read through my posts, and could plainly see the things I liked. He provided a list of my posts, he instructed I pick four out of a possible 12 that I liked best. I could feel his forceful confidence in his message, though he also came across as genial and funny. I quickly looked back at my past wank bank. All of them were extreme, many I had reposted after hours of stoned gooning. I selected 4 that made me horniest, not scientific, but that’s my scale on these things.

    I waited for a reply for almost two days. Then this arrives. “If you will agree to sign consent forms I can make parts of all of those fantasies come true . Masochistic men like you should be able to sign yourself into the care, or abuse of others. Of course we will have to meet before you can sign anything. I am currently in your area and have an open schedule I want you to text your answer.”

    I was so confused, how did he know where my area even was?! How am I supposed to text an answer to an unknown person? I was wondering if I should even respond, this seemed creepy but also incredibly arousing. I was deciding when I received a text “this is your prospective new owner”. I almost jumped back from the phone. I tried to politely ask him to leave me alone, (I didn’t want to upset someone who obviously knew my phone, probably knew where I live.)

    Where should this story go next? Give me an idea please!

    I’m so proud of my new boy Tim out there in the navy blue. He’s about to get yet another pin this match, cementing him as another champion. A week ago he didn’t know dick about wrestling. He didn’t know much about anything really, which makes it even funnier that I chopped his IQ damn near in half with just 3 hours of intense forced hypnosis. He was strapped down in a sweaty singlet previously worn my 10 of my men so that the testosterone-rich musk could absorb into him, and forced to watch a screen of flashing subliminals while his mind was also assaulted with layers of binaural beats. We also forcefed him 10 gallons of my latest formula, dramatically bulking him up over the course of just a few days, while also helping to numb his brain and sharpen his focus on following my orders and becoming a wrestler. Look at him now—- SLAM! There’s the pin. That’s my boy! Coach has a way of transforming a man into what he wants him to be… don’t I?


    Bernie was unwrapping a large parcel he received from the mail, something that was sent by someone who goes by the name Roy Chang...

    Of course he was cautious, even going so far as to research the fellow and found that he was a trashy idiotic asian eBoi who swears a lot and talks about his conquests with girls, not to mention his association with a couple of ‘prank celebrities’ which really rile his nerves. His husband also received a parcel from one of those jerks too, and was getting up and wanted to-


    He wanted to stop his husband from opening it but then he received a couple of messages from Reynard’s phone, claiming that everything was fine and that Roy was cool and all, and that he had won a prize from them but couldn’t claim it as he wasn’t a citizen of the country...yet.

    There were a couple of freak-out exchanges, with suggestions to even call the cops, but eventually...he trusted Reynard.

    He and his husband were close friends with both Reynard and his bear of a boyfriend, exchanging multiple conversations with the duo these past few years. They were intelligent and cautious...and after all, even if it was a prank, it couldn’t do too much harm to him. That kind of stuff was annoying and rude, but these college guys never outright pulled something that could cause extreme harm since supposedly-they were directly under the big names.

    Well, at least Bernie hoped so.


    Out screamed the largest computer set he had ever seen. Laced with neon green highlights which glowed like it was out of this world. From the keyboards to the hardware.


    It screamed idiotic.

    But even so, Bernie felt really compelled to try it out. Ditching whatever he wanted to do in favour of immediately setting up this computer. Surprisingly enough, it took less than a couple of minutes, plugging it in as the monitor was already wide awake, and automatically opened to a pre installed client of a game, nudging the man to create an account and sign in.

    Bernie scoffed of course that Eboi would have his gift have one of those MOBAS. Might as well entertain him. Registration was relatively easy might as well type his username something stupid like-


    >LOG IN


    “Wha was tha...tha?”

    Almost instantly, the neon green lights of the computer glowed brightly. As he felt himself sucked into the game. Mouse hovering over the lobby, starting the match...

    Subtile spirals played amidst the background, grinning idiotically, completely out of character for Bernie...but who cares about Bernie?

    He was ‘MENTALLY GONE’.


    Over his screen, there were a multitude of characters ranging from guys to hot chicks...did he just think hot chicks? Huhuhuh maybe the dumb game is really getting to him.

    Doubt his husband would mind right?

    Grinning to himself, feeling drawn more to the in game client. Adjusting his posture... hunching more towards the screen, feeling an increase in height while his back broadened within his gamer’s chair.

    Gaming Chair? Must’ve came with the package Roy gave! Cool!

    The dude was pretty cool, teaching him how to play the latest and hottest game young men played. Heroes Enter Tribulations. Specially teaching him one of those really cool looking characters, one of those asian looking ones that always talked about the wind.



    ‘Insta lock one trick’

    Oberni blinked, focusing in the comments of his teammates who were less than...friendly. He was still new to the game, but man, were these guys SALTY. At least that was how Roy would describe these players.

    “Man are you guys SALTY!”

    He spat, and not just typing in game. Feeling the need to VOICE out his opinion, taking on an exaggerated accent similar to one of those cool kids would use. He was quite old, but that was not gonna stop him from actin’ young.

    Rubbing his eyes, he took off his spectacles moment as they were entering the game, before he SLAMMED his snapback over on his head, with a branded logo like the ones his peers wore.

    But wait...weren’t those his specs?

    “Must be TRIPPIN!”

    Yelling uncharacteristically, more than before. He was really getting into it. Getting into character, Man. Roy was one of those dumb EBois, he gotta act like one of em’. It was fake though, he was still smurt, he’s in UNI amirite?


    ‘Dumb Eboi’




    Yelling, aggression filled his palms. Clicking rampantly amidst the death screen. Keyboard typing trash in chat like some kind of warrior. Who duckin’ cared bout’ being civil.

    As far as these dumbasses know? He was popular. You hear him, POPULAR. He was associated with DA PHOENIX PRO, DMs and all. Hope his fiancé don’t mind, totally straight convo...not that he was straight!

    Though he did act like one-


    “Yeah take that, NOOB!

    Yelling in all chat, flexing his biceps, which strained tightly in his sleeves. Man...wearing grown up clothes SUCKED! Maybe if he yelled at them, they would-

    “CHILL OUT!”

    With that command, the sleeves shrivelled into shorter, grey cotton. One like the Merch he and his boyfriend created. You know, like those cool kids that were a little younger than they were...college dudes like em!

    Fitting snuggly onto the avid gamer, the young influencer gave a sigh of relief as he leaned back and played the game. Fingers tightening as the single ring multiplied into various shades of bling, loose and not tied down.

    Sweat oozing out as a tanned coloration overrode his complexion. His gym pectorals kinda sore from that intense workout with his lover, but Man, did that gay just go WILD with his dance moves while he had just a typical six pack like his bros.

    Wait...did he just?



    Cobern yelled, while simultaneously typing. By now, his entire team probably muted him. The enemy team might have also double muted him if that was even possible.

    Misspelling was also common place for the dumb flunking UNI student. Solid, thick fingers programmed to do a few things, play games, work out, jack off and shyt talk. But who cares when he was HAWT!

    No idea how he even got accepted, probably cause he was so darn SMOKIN’!

    Grabbing hold of his hard virile joystick, pumping it with his left while his right subconsciously still played the game. Smirking as his Tak-Tik frat bud would wish to taste a piece of his manly meat. He wuz hot! But it felt too GAY to think of the other male that way.

    Kicking off his signature, styled basketball sneakers, his musky size 13 feet wiggled with intense excitement, testosterone roaring in the young man.

    Yeah...they were dumb ebois but so what? They were cool, and that didn’t make him an eboi, he was still smart! 1 + 1 = Window! He still got his college degree....wait.

    No! College SUUUUUUKS!

    His body regressed itself, becoming younger and wilder as his rebellious side stuck to the game, Toned pectorals and abdominals completed his slouched posture, having worked out a lot since young, though not caring bout’ his posture. He was from DA HOOD, and dis looked cool from da hood.

    But wasn’t he missing something? Something that starts with a-


    Acober tried to think of loving times with his boyfriend, but that was gay. His mind scrambled to remember when he first kissed his boi-friend, but that was gay. His brain attempted to focus on the wonderful intimate make out session with...some g....girl, but that was...wait a sec-

    That was H-A-W-T!

    Playing with one hand, the straight E Boi yelled in the non-existent voice chat like some idiot, that’s cause he was CAUSE GIRLS LIKE HIM DUMB! Massaging his hard 8 inches in those ratty sweatpants of his. His slightly oversized shirt embraced onto his young dumb hunky body like one of da ladies! Showing off some firmness as a the white ‘Mentally’ imprint began continuing in letters, starting with-

    G-cause he was a duckin’ Goofus, skipped skool, didn’t give a shit bout things unless it gave his Bois a laugh. The multitude of awards shifting to tons of trash he couldn’t be bothered to clean.

    O-Olways a gamer, as books warped into decade long gaming since he was young. That’s all he duckin’ cared bout, alongside duckin’ chicks!

    N-Joy life, E-njoy lyfe! He collab’ed with DA PHOENIX PRO!

    The college dropout felt so much happier with himself, no more stupid faggy shit to worry about, only his stupid gamer shit. He facerolled over his keyboard, his sexy beard darkening coating with the sweat from his MAN fingers.

    He was having so much fun, thrill, so much easier. His left hand pumpin’ away the last bits of his intelligence as he didn’t need that crap anymore, right hand gave a huge slap to his thigh as he-

    He was-

    Jacob Kasher

    He was-




    Circa Slot Machine

    One night, Dan was surfing the web, frustrated that he hadn’t played at a gig in months. Playing Bass was how he unwound and what he lived for. His job as manager of the local supermarket just paid the bills, where as music was where his soul came alive. The past 18 months had been fucked up by the shit show of 2020+ and like so many guys, he found himself with more time on his hands and little to keep his interest.

    Dan was about 5’11 with brown hair and an average build for a guy in his mid-twenties. He didn’t regularly exercise, but also didn’t eat to badly and so kept a relatively healthy body.

    One of Dan’s vices was he enjoyed an occasional gamble on the net, but he was careful to keep it light. He regularly searched for new sites to play on which offered a free first bet to new players. Tonight, he’d been pissed off by the first two he’d found before following an add to one he’d never heard of before.

    “Circa slots – free $50 first bet with other ways to earn more bets”

    That caught Dan’s attention, after all he was looking for a free way to spend the evening and if he could earn some dosh while having fun, why not.

    So Dan clicked the link and was greeted with a Greek themed background. A fallen marble pilar lay across the screen, with Greek symbols and icons flashing different colours as the digital slot machine span. A message popped up.

    “Welcome to Circa slots. We know you’ll enjoy yourself tonight and will feel like a new person by the end. Start straight off with your first $50 and let’s wish your lucky star is out tonight and for Circa herself to bless you.”

    ‘Weird’ he thought and then clicked the “ok” button and then started playing. It was a pretty basic slot machine game really, and he didn’t recognise most of the symbols, although the colours helped, and within a few minutes he’d figured out the higher scorers. His luck was in as he played for 5 minutes and managed to double his free bet. Now, he’d played enough of these games to know that winning on a free bet was likely a ploy to get him started, but he was game.

    A message popped up. “Congratulations, you have doubled your money. Now it’s time for you to properly join this epic adventure by giving us some of your details. In return you will receive another $50 to add to your credit.

    So Dan filled in the standard details, filling in his full name and credit card details. He had a good feeling about his luck tonight and was sure he’d be walking away with free money.

    As Dan continued playing he noticed more symbols appearing. They looked familiar, but he couldn’t be completely sure where he’d seen them before. Within 10 minutes he lucked out and lost all his credit. A message popped up “Dan, don’t fear, Circa’s blessing is over you. She will grant you $500 to play with if you link your Facebook account to your Circa slots profile.”

    Dan couldn’t see much harm in that, after all his Facebook account opened the door to so many of his other accounts, why not link it up. He clicked on the “link account” button and was surprised to see there was an extra message before taking him through to the Facebook login portal.

    “Dan, one thing you need to know is that if you win the next game then you have the option to leave with all your winnings. But if you loose, you give us the right to share your profile with a group of investors who will make comments on your appearance and may even open up more dollars for you this evening. If you click ok, you are agreeing to this gamble.”

    ‘Shit, they’re offering $500 to play with. So if I win, I get to take the money straight off, and if I loose, a board of rich folk will get to see my profile and make comments. Sounds creepy, but I guess people get off on all sorts. It’s not as if I’m on webcam or anything. And there’s a chance that they’ll give me more money to play with. What have I got to loose?’ he thought naively.

    So Dan clicked “ok” and followed through the familiar Facebook login page.


    “Thanks Dan for linking your Facebook profile, now let’s see how luck you are.”

    He was riding the slots like a maverick. Initially loosing the first $200 very quickly, watching it increase to over $800, before it dipped again, up and down until the $500 was spent and his credit was dry.

    “Fuck, I thought I had it then. But no harm done as I haven’t played with any of my own money yet.”

    A message popped up. “Commiserations Dan. The board will review your profile and may be in touch with you via this screen imminently, so don’t go anywhere.”

    Dan waited staring at the screen. “Fuck, that means the creeps will be looking at my profile. What did I last post?’

    He flicked through his account and was only mildly embarrassed by a few stupid poses, but on the whole it all looked ok. And then he spotted a new option on his profile. Next to check-ins was an option called Circa. ‘I guess I didn’t check exactly what permissions I was sharing with them’ he thought and clicked on it.

    A general chat forum opened in the panel under his cover and profile pictures. He noticed some of his other photos had appeared in this panel to. Not most of his photos, but ones the panel were reviewing.

    Alpha – The lad doesn’t have much muscle does he

    Gamma – I like the fact he’s so passionate about his hair

    Iota – Looks like he’s got a bit of attitude, I’m into that

    Kappa – He’s got that classic British/American look don’t you think?

    Alpha – I think he needs more muscle

    Pi – Is it me, or does he look really serious? I like men with a good sense of humour

    Sigma – I think this photo says it all really 😊


    Pi – I think he looked cuter when he was younger


    Dan felt immediately uncomfortable with all of this attention on his profile. No, not just his profile, but on his appearance.

    Kappa – Has anyone checked, is he gay?

    Pi – I’d have gone out with him if he was, when he was a freshmen.

    Omicron – It’s a shame we can’t see his stats yet, I can’t see how smart he is. I think if he was smarter he’d be hotter in my book.

    Dan was pissed off now, what right had these people got to make such comments about him as if he were an object to be commented on. And the homosexual nature of some of these questions freaked him out. He was a live and let live kind’a guy, but he was definitely a straight shooter when it came to the bedroom. ‘Well, I would be if I got a girl back to my place’ he thought. It had been a year since he’d been in a relationship.

    Dan heard a ping which shook him back to the original command which was to ‘not go anywhere’, meaning away from the website. He opened up the tab in his browser for Circa Slots and saw a message.

    “Omicron has offered you $100 to bet with a question. “Dan, how smart are you? You may accept or reject this bet, but know the consequences are further reaching than the previous ones.”

    Dan shrugged. He was annoyed by the situation, but what was the worst that could happen. He could stop at anytime because he was ‘definitely in control’.

    So Dan hit “I accept” and played the slots. He noticed the images had changed. This time a number of animals were now in the mix as well as some of the same as earlier, all looking like they were engraved on the circular slot which span. This time, at the end of each game, he got to select one of the icons which had remained when he didn’t hit 5 in a row. The snake was most prominent, and he thought about how smart a snake was, so he started playing trying to collect snakes. He bet again when he couldn’t get snakes, even with some owls and rabbits. Surely he was aiming for 5 snakes in a row. It didn’t take him more than 7 minutes to get what he was after and still with about $400 in his credit. ‘I think I smashed it!’ he thought to himself.

    The salutation box appeared again “You don’t need luck with brains like yours” and Dan’s brain went through a bizzar experience. His mind felt like it was receiving a cleaning out, a wave that tingled and refreshed the young man’s intellect. He was experiencing a similar sensation to using mouth wash but in his head, and he saw the world much sharper.

    ‘Wow, I mean, that was intense. I feel like I could take on any problem and see all potential angles. I feel like I could ditch my managers job and go back to uni to study philosophy or become a doctor or a statistician. I could do anything.’ He thought.

    Unbeknownst to Dan, the board had now received the update they’d desired on their view of Dan’s profile page. Now they could see a page of his stats. His height, weight, hobbies, IQ score, Personality type, fat-muscle ratio, even his sexuality, they could now see it all. Dan hadn’t flicked back to Facebook. Which meant he didn’t have access to the extra comments.

    On his profile page his IQ which had risen from 110 to 150

    Omicron – I’m so happy, he’s hotter with all those brains.

    Alpha – He doesn’t need to be smarter, but bigger

    Iota – You always say that Alpha, so vanilla. Can’t you imagine a guy with brains being hot to?

    Pi – I’ll never understand why you love the brain boxes

    His browser pinged with a new message. “Iota invites you to play “How old are you” with a $200 investment, accept or reject?”

    Dan thought that was ridiculous, and hit reject. He was pretty sure his date of birth was public on Facebook and he’d granted these ‘investors’ permission to view all his stats.

    A new message appeared for Dan “Pi invites you to try How smart are you? again, for $600”

    This was a bit repetitive wasn’t it. Dan was to smart to believe that this game had altered him, he was just pleased he could see how stupid this game really was. So he decided to play along and hit “I accept”.

    Again, the slots rolled before his eyes and he saw loads of snakes spin past, however the first darker icon he won was a Donkey. He theorised that Donkey’s are hard workers and so that would be a good animal to back. Despite all the monkey’s, eagles doves, and Dragons, he kept winning Donkey’s and locking them into his ultimate score. He won 5 out of 7 rounds so it only took him a few minutes to score his goal. Once he’d locked into place the final Donkey, the message box popped up “Congratulations! You won the gift of Koalemos. Enjoy”

    That didn’t add up. Somewhere in his head he accessed the knowledge of the Greek god Koalemos who was the personified spirit of stupidity and foolishness. That felt a strange blessing to win, ‘O fuck, but isn’t that why Bottom in Shakespeare’s a mid-summer…’ his sharp brain fogged over with a new pleasure ‘…night party got hammered and farted around all night?’

    All eyes of the board were now on his profile page, his IQ plummeting from 150 to 70.

    Omicron – No! Why!

    Pi – I like a dumb fun boy.

    Gamma – Now, now boys. You know the score. We just offer him the premiss of the bet, he decides whether to play.

    Iota – He’s right girls, Dan’s in charge of which bets he takes.

    Dan looked at the slot machine again, grinning over his win when the next message pinged up.

    “Dan, Alpha invites you to play How much muscle you got lad? Accept or reject”

    Dan thought this sounded fun and clicked the ‘accept’ button and this time was presented with even more icons, many of the same, rabbits, owls, snakes, pigs alongside some more mythical creatures of griffins and phoenix’s etc.

    This time, each win made the appropriate change for Dan. He noticed that he didn’t have to stick with the first dark icon he won, in fact, he didn’t have to choose the more obvious ones at all. He sort of guessed that he needed to collect 5 of the same icons, but he could choose from any of the icons which jumped up on his screen. He was completely oblivious to the comments on his FB page.

    Sigma - I’m guessing none of you missed what happened when Dan won 5 in a row of the pig? I grabbed the image before and after as usual.

    Iota – I can’t get enough of this phase of the game. Do you think he’s cottoning on? Normally guys start to realise something about now

    Gamma – Fuck no, Pi made sure he’d be a dumb ass, I don’t reckon he’s sussed any of this out.


    Before he could continue, a new message appeared “Dan, you hit a 5 pig jackpot and Omicron and Gamma want to give you a gift. They have teamed up and invested in the site to offer you a new wardrobe and a sexy smile. You can accept or reject this gift.”

    ‘Fuck, what a gay suggestion, but I’ll take it’. Ignorant to the changes his body was undergoing, Dan hit “accept” and kept on playing. He didn’t want to lock the pig, and his now chubby paw hit the lever to play again. He saw his first Lion and locked it. He’d doubled his credit on the pig win and continued playing, and loosing most of it. His sexy smile beaming in his branded muscle Tee which slung to his rolls of chub. That is, until he had 5 lions locked into his overall prize chart.

    As the Lions clicked into place, he felt his arms spasm but also his shoulders. Next his chest muscles started pulsating as if to a drum beat and his thighs felt sore. His calf’s tensed up as his delts pulled hard and he experienced excruciating pain which shot to his heat like a white hot poker to the centre of his fogged brain. He clasped his fists together into a ball and squeezed his eye lids closed to just about bare the pain.

    He missed the sight of his arms expanding with solid well built bi’s and tris and his chest ballooning with solid pectoral meat. His beer gut melted into cobbled abs and his shoulders broadened with hefty weighty deltoids as his thighs grew with powerful brawn. Dan was unmistakably a bodybuilder now.

    “Dan, congratulations on becoming a Lion of a man. Alpha has invested to offer you a free gift of gym knowledge on the understanding that you will take on the lingo of a ‘gym bro’.”

    ‘This is such a queer game, but I’m havin’ so much fun.’ He thought to himself as he clicked “accept”.

    The board then saw their reward. Dan’s profile pictures were all rewriting themselves around Dan’s new reality. In less dumb subjects, they’d have noticed something by now, but the rest of the world would view the subject as they now were, except of course the board.


    Iota – You guys are so predictable!

    Alpha – Well I’m not complainin’

    Pi – how delicious, did you see the teddy pic turn to this one of him? I could spend all night in that sexy mouth.


    Sigma – He’s so fucking hot now!

    Dan was waiting for a new message to appear. He was looking at the screen with his 5 lions after accepting the ‘gym bro’ shit.

    ‘Bro, this is so sick. I’m balls deep in cash and nearly ready to tap up Tina.’ He mused to himself as he noticed he couldn’t see the keyboard as easily due to his jutting pecs. He looked a bit confused at them for a moment and then looked at his arm in the muscle tee which strained at the bulk of his arms. But got distracted by a new ping.

    “Dan, Iota invites you to play, Do you have any tattoos? for $300.”

    Of course Dan hit accept, after all he loved this game and wanted to see what he could win next.

    Most of the icons were familiar by now, and he jacked out with 3 Greek character line ups in a row. Each win added tattoos across his impressive canvas of a body. Unaware of this, he focused on winning 5 Peacocks which lined up and gave him a flare for exhibitionism and being admired.

    “Dan, we love seeing you pose on your blog, Alpha has invested again, but this time with the gift of Narcissus.” Dan didn’t know what that was, but thought it was kind of the guy to send him a gift so he clicked “accept”.

    Iota – Lovin’ this guys


    Sigma – you always do.

    Gamma – Alpha, I will say thank you

    Omicron – He’s become a bit to ‘tough’ for my tastes

    Pi – I can help with that

    Dan was now enjoying the beauty of his muscular beauty and enjoying everything that came with being an incredibly attractive man. It was dawning on him that this game had changed him, but that didn’t stop him enjoying giving his left bicep a hickey when his laptop pinged again.

    “Dan, Pi asks how gay you are. This next game is a little different. You play 5 rounds, and can agree to settle with any mix of icons which appear after each slot spin. If you reach round 5, you must settle with the final mix. If, however, you are lucky enough to get 5 in a row, you will immediately become sexually attracted extremely to the icon displayed.”

    There was only an “ok” button this time and as Dan looked for a “reject” option he hit the “ok” button to clear the screen in search for it, which of course was stupid.

    The same rotating 5 slots appeared on the marble column, but this time they only contained Mars and Venus symbols, representing the attraction Dan would gain after this.

    He hit the lever to spin the slots and the first results were in.


    Dan’s problem was that he couldn’t remember which one was for guys and which one for girls. He was straight and was now worried the game would take that away from him. He had a feeling the arrow was for dudes because of the cock shooting arrow. But then, cock’s do hang down between our legs.

    Underneath the slots was a button “accept as your sexuality?” next to the lever to go again.

    He decided that a hard cock pointed up so this was a very gay score and he hit the lever.


    Ok, not as bad as the last one, but still more gay than he wanted to be. He needed to be completely straight and this wasn’t it, so he played again.


    This time he had 3 with the low hanging cross symbol which was more what he wanted. But what if he was wrong. What if there were cocks hanging below the circle. Well it was worth betting again and he hit the lever.

    The fourth round rolled and rolled, surely longer than the previous rounds and then he hit the jackpot. The game saw this as the highest achieving score possible. His credit shot up into the $10,000’s as 5, one after another, mars symbols landed in a row. They started flashing rainbows.

    “Shit Bro!” he bellowed at the screen as a new pop up appeared.

    “Congratulations Dan on the top scoring combination of all tonight. Enjoy your new sexuality. You don’t worry about the chick’s anymore, they’ll never be your type again.”

    Omicron – well you got what you came for Pi

    Pi – almost

    Gamma – I thought the pretty dumb ass would choose one of the earlier options, I’m so pleased he kept betting

    Alpha – Now he’s the alpha he needed to be

    Dan sat there opened mouthed. He was pretty sure this was something he hadn’t wanted, and yet he felt completely fine with it. Like this was always how he was meant to be. He thought about his bud Rich, his workout partner and wondered if Rich would be interested in a bit of muscle worship.

    As his mind wandered, he saw a second pop-up. “Pi wants to celebrate your homosexuality by investing and gifting you a new job as a male escort. Iota has also invested and offered you the sexual knowledge of a pro rent boy. You can accept or reject either or both separate invitations.”

    Dan looked at them both and considered briefly. He clicked “accept” to Iota’s invitation. Knowledge like that would take him a long way and mean he always got laid. But Pi’s was also an attractive offer. After all, bodybuilding didn’t pay great. He had the body, but often wished he had more cash to splash around. So he clicked “accept” to Pi’s invitation to.

    Dan’s life had completely morphed and changed. He fucking loved his new life, and the board made sure they’d kept a copy of his personal details so they could each book their private nights with Dan the dumb muscle sex hound.

    A new text box appeared “Dan, Sigma invites you to play How big is your cock?”


    Hey, bro. I saw you checking me out in the gym. Heh. No. It’s fine. I’m not mad. Yeah, bro. I’m flattered. I mean. I’m straight. I got a girlfriend. But, I’m flattered being checked out by another bro means I’m doing something right. Hm? Oh. I was heading to the sauna then maybe shower. My girl always tells me to shower before I step foot in the house. She hates my smell after I shower. Says I reek of sweat…

    What? You don’t think so? Really? I’m positively drenched in sweat, bro… You like it? You like the sweaty smell of a man? That so? What if I said… Get your face in my sweaty ripe jock pit, faggot? What if I… Raise my arm… And made you snort my pit funk and made you lick my pits clean? I don’t wear deodorant so that’s all me… Oh you want to. You want to worship my sweaty pits, don’t you fag? I know you do. Your cock is rigid. You’re getting off on my smell… Nasty fuckng pervert…

    No. I’m not mad. I like it. I wish my girl was like that. Hm. What if… I told you to get on your knees… And bury your nose in my jock? Yeah. Right here. In my pouch. Smells of sweat and cock and balls. Raw raunchy testosterone. The scent of a real man. Of cum and piss. Would you like that? You licked your lips. You’re salivating. Huhuhu. You’re drooling over my sweaty jock cock, faggot… Fuck that makes me fucking horny. My girl hasn’t put out in weeks. Nurse. Always busy. Always tired when she gets home so no pussy for me.

    You can’t keep your eyes off me. You’re drooling… Get naked. Now, bitch. Yeah. Not bad. Good muscle build. Turn. Unnfuck. You got some serious fat ass action. Fuck. If that ass was on a girl, I’d be all up in it… Hm? You want me to be?

    Well. Never fucked a guy before… But… That ass looks good… Ok. Follow me into the sauna… You can lick the sweat off me in there. Do a good job, you can suck my dick… Do a great job and I’ll drill that jock fag pussy in the showers… Let’s go, bitch. I wanna feel your tongue on me.