Growing Into It

--- Originally posted on 2024-02-18 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

A Bad Wet Dream

Aaron would have never made the wish to become his hookup's walking wet dream if he had known what the gorgeous twink was truly into. He was just so nervous, happy and giddy that the beautiful bottom had even agreed to meet up with him in the first place, but he was also feeling anxious that the evening was undoubtably going to end up as a dead end one night stand. He wanted more, wanted a relationship, wanted to be worthy of that beautiful, sweet, bubbly handsome boy.

The first sign that something was wrong after his wish was as he was trying to get prepped, feeling a strong itching from beneath his arms. Thick, black hairs were curling outwards from once smooth skin, sticky and slick and dripping sweat down his broadening sides. He had always been on the larger end of the scale, but now his body was being molded and chiseled by invisible masculine hands, reshaped into something bigger and better. He smirked at his reflection, a little unlike himself, his jaw seeming a little more sculpted, his gaze more commanding, his features more ruggedly handsome. He couldn't help but to bounce his firm pecs as they swelled, nipples perky and suckable, dark brown flesh rising from rosy hues. His pale skin was washed over by a wave of bronzed, sunkissed shades. His blue eyes turned to dark honey, glittering with power and lust, his stomach hardening with rippling abs. His legs stretched taller, his frame looming in the room, his thighs growing thick and shredded and accenting his tree trunk legs. He felt so powerful, his every inhale of air a surge of alpha coded influence moving through him.

And then the dark, thick beard broke through his chiseled jaw, reeking of pussy juice and the aftermath of rank morning breath. His thick, fattening ass cheeks rumbled, crack growing dank and slick and hairy as a protein fart trumpeted through the meaty globes. His cock was snaking outward, growing thick, mushroom head flared against his tight gym shorts. The cock print was visible.

A golden cross materialized around his thick neck, nestled safely between his firm pecs. It jostled about his body flexed and tensed, his hungry, domineering gaze drinking up his superior masculine form. He was confused by the smells, by the sudden feelings of devotion inside his mind, the faith he wore so proudly around his throat- but he thought of his handsome face, his thick body, his impressive cock. It was only natural the faggot- the twink was turned on by pure, uncorrupted alpha men. Every inch of him radiated power, the rancid stench of a king, the throbbing fat python of a breeder leaking pre into his shorts. Somewhere in Amir's newly forming mind, the last traces of Aaron tried to make sense of his new form, his new thoughts, the way his wish was being twisted- but he was quickly smothered and quietened between the sheer amount of fat, jiggling breasts and squirting pussies Amir was conjuring into his mind.

When a knock sounded on his front door, strolling through a haze of hookah smoke and the stale scent of a jock boy's sweat and farts and dirty gym gear, he opened it to come face to face with a tiny, pathetic, already drooling twink. Amir smirked at him, his fat cock still throbbing to the thoughts of women in his mind, ready to pull out his phone and call over a bitch to service him. But not this one. The twink was already popping a boner, his cheeks flushing, coming face to face with one of the cocky obviously straight men he jerked off to on his social media feeds nightly.

Aaron wailed for help, a feminine nipple entering his open mouth, a dizzy daydream of motorboating tits forming in Amir's hazy, stupid, alpha mind. He laughed, and went to shut the door in the faggot's face. "Not even in your pathetic dreams, little man." Thud.

Trash

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Spring break was almost over. After spending a few days at home with my family, it was time to head back to campus and finish out the year. I was an above average student -- not a complete nerd, but not stupid. In high school, I had always been smart but never really fit in. I didn't try very hard. College was liberating! I made friends that shared my interests and was going to graduate with a journalism degree.

I parked my car and headed towards my apartment. A few dirty snowbanks dotted the streets and the trash from last winter made everything look dirty. Most of the apartments in this area were rented by college kids who didn't really take care of their houses. In one front yard, I saw an old white "wife-beater" shirt scattered around empty beer bottles and red solo cups. The shirt was a little muddy, but otherwise in perfect condition. I figured some jock forgot about it one drunken night or basketball game.

Most people would describe me as a hipster. I often shopped at vintage stores and thrift shops for clothes. This abandoned shirt was a little gross, but if washed a few times would be perfectly wearable this summer. I was a skinny little white boy, but in the right weather, I could pull off a wife beater look like this.

I grabbed the shirt and kept walking, thinking nothing of it.

--

When I made it to my apartment, I tossed the shirt on my bed and unpacked my things. I didn't have much to do that day so I figured it might be a good idea to clean my apartment. I moved a few things around and decided to try on the shirt.

"It's still dirty … but, I'll be sweating anyway and take a shower later," I thought to myself. "Might as well try it on to see if it fits."

I unbuttoned my shirt, stripped down, and pulled the white shirt over my head. Looking down, I noticed how pale my skinny body was. With my skinny jeans, styled hair, and thick rim glasses, the look worked in my opinion. I continued cleaning.

With a minute or two, I noticed a strange taste in my mouth -- a combination of tobacco and stale beer. I had never been a smoker, but suddenly could smell cigarette smoke in my room.

"Must be the neighbors," I thought. But the taste grew stronger. I lifted up my shirt, realizing the smell was in the clothes. When I lifted up my arm, a new odor filled the room, a pungent manly scent seemed to pour out of my armpits, which were knotted with black hair. Instinctively, I scratched away an itch and lifted my fingers to my nose. My hands smelled like sweat and smoke. My fingers grazed my chin and I noticed that dark stubble was covering my jaw and cheeks.

I walked over to the bathroom to see if I was just imagining something. In the mirror, I saw that stubble had formed an even five-o-clock shadow. Between the two straps of the shirt, dark hairs started sprouting even though for years I could never grow chest hair. I felt a sharp pain on my right shoulder and grabbed my arm in pain. When I pulled it away, the skin was swollen and red, revealing a new tattoo on my bicep.

"What is happening," I thought to myself. I tried to pull the shirt off, but it was like it was stuck to my skin. After a minute of struggling with the shirt, I realized how thirsty I was becoming. I opened the refrigerator and cracked open a beer. Strangely, the entire bottom shelf was filled with cans and bottle.

"That's strange," I said out loud. "I never bought these!" But, I was so thirsty that I drained the beer in a few seconds and grabbed a second, then a third. The alcohol started to hit me and I staggered back into the bathroom. The shirt still wouldn't move, but the booze made me a little less worried. I looked at myself in the mirror and noticed that I had put on about twenty pounds of weight. My narrow chest had thickened with two firm pecs and tight abs. Massive shoulders and thick biceps replaced my skinny arms. Even my neck seemed thick with muscle. Before, the shirt hung loose on my body, but now it pressed against my body snugly.

Seeing my upper body bulge with muscle, I realized that my pants were uncomfortably tight. I was wearing a pair of skinny black jeans, but my things and calves were starting to ache. To my relief, I was able to unbutton my pants, but when I tried to pull them down, I noticed that they were not the jeans I remember putting on that morning. The waist line had grown, the cut was loose fitting, and the color was a dark blue. I pulled them down to my knees and realized that I was wearing a different pair of boxers too. Satisfied with these new, more comfortable, clothes, I pulled them back up and buttoned them.

When I looked in the mirror again, I was puzzled by the face looking back. "When did I get a hair cut?" I asked myself, rubbing my cropped black hair. Thick, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion and combined with the dumb look in my eyes, I realized that I was slowly losing my memory.

"It's just the alcohol," I told myself. "People are always stupider when they drink." But when I walked back into my room, I couldn't remember what I was doing five minutes ago. I opened a dresser drawer and found shirts I couldn't remember ever buying, but looked like they would fit me perfectly. I found a pair of brown steel-toe work boots, a pocket knife, a lighter, a pack of cigarettes. When I saw the package of cigs, my body practically lurched with a craving to light up.

"Don't see why not," I told myself. But deep inside my mind, I remember that I had never liked smoking and that this urge was completely foreign to me.

The smoke filled my lungs and nostrils, and with every breath I felt more and more relaxed. Each puff of smoke was like a cloud of memories leaving me forever, being replaced by new ones. Through the haze, my room seemed to change as well. A baseball cap appeared on the dresser, a poster of a truck covered in mud above my bed, my shelf of college books erased from existence in the same way that my hard earned knowledge was gone from my mind. I walked out onto a small balcony to finish smoking and left the smoldering butt on the railing.

On my bed, I saw a blue shirt stained with grease and oil. The embroidered name patch said "Keith." When I put the shirt on, it was like stepping into a completely new identity. Years of experience working with engines in a mechanic's garage washed over me. I found a pair of keys in one of the pockets. When I stepped outside, a black and chrome motorcycle was parked next to the building. I turned the key and raced off for a day of working, completely unaware that I had never ridden this bike before.

They say that one man's trash is another man's treasure. But in my case, one man's trash transformed me forever into a completely different man. There was no way of turning back, for all I knew, this had always been my life.

Lil Bro Muscles Up, Finale added

Eighteen year old Jimmy looked in the mirror. Damn he looked good, he thought. Broad shoulders, nice muscles, damn handsome, if he said so himself. “Those Boston College girls won’t know what hit ‘em,” he growled. His beat up Corolla was all packed, all that was left to do was say goodbye to his lil bro, Roy. He felt a bit guilty leaving town for college. Nerdy Roy, only fifteen but going into his junior year since he skipped Grade Four, couldn’t count on the protection of his big bro anymore. He felt worse about leaving Roy to fend for himself than he felt about leaving Cindy, his girlfriend. She was hot, but he was going to be playing the field with college girls, he couldn’t stay attached to a high school senior.

“RoyBoy!” he yelled at his little bro as he stood at the front door. “Gonna miss you, bro! You gonna be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Jimmy,” his lil bro smiled. “I’m gonna use your weights in the basement to get big and strong, like you!”

Jimmy looked at the scrawny limbs of his shrimpy lil bro. He grabbed his upper arm, which was so thin, Jimmy’s fingers touched when he closed his hand. Those little dumbbells in the basement might not be up to the task. “Alright, RoyBoy, I wanna feel some muscle here when I come back for Columbus Day weekend.”

Roy winced. “You know they’re calling it Indigenous People’s Day on college campuses now, right, bro? Maybe it’s me that needs to worry about you, dummy!”

Jimmy laughed and picked his lil bro up and threw him over his shoulder, then spun in place like a helicopter. Roy giggled and yelled. “Put me down you big goof!”

Jimmy dumped him on floor and towered over him, flexing his biceps. “That’ll teach you to call your big bro a dummy.” Roy grinned and stood up, losing his balance. Jimmy righted him by putting his hand on his skinny shoulder. So thin, he thought.

“Okay, RoyBoy, I’m outta here. You do your workouts and make sure Mom feeds your skinny ass.”

He stuck out his hand to his bro, and Roy looked at it funny, but then shook it. They’d never shook hands before, and Jimmy noted that weirdly, his hand was only slightly bigger than Roy’s.

“You hear me?” Jimmy warned with a grin.

Roy squeezed Jimmy’s hand and cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll make you proud, big bro.”

Jimmy pulled up into the driveway at 11 PM after a five hour drive had turned into an eight hour drive due to an accident on the interstate. He was irritable that he missed dinner with the fam. He’d been more homesick than he expected going to college. He was looking forward to hanging out with his lil bro and folks, and maybe even calling up Cindy. With his good looks, he’d scored a lot of sex in his first month on campus at BC, but it all felt kind of empty. He realized that he’d had more of a connection with his high school girlfriend than he thought. He hadn’t texted her though, he thought they should talk in person.

Jimmy opened the front door with his key and all was dark and quiet inside. He walked into the kitchen where his mother had left a plate of food and a note:

“Welcome home honey! Too tired to wait up. Reheat this 2 min on high. Guest bedroom all made up for you. Sleep well and see you in the morning! xoxo”

Jimmy put the plate of food in the microwave and then looked at the note again. Guest bedroom? Is that what they were calling his bedroom now? Geez, he’d only been gone six weeks. The microwave dinged and he tested the food but it was only lukewarm, so he put it in another two minutes and then picked up his duffel bag and went upstairs to drop it in his room.

As he opened the door he practically gagged at the smell. The room reeked. Jimmy covered his mouth and nose with his hand. He looked around and saw that the furniture and posters on the walls were those of his lil bro Roy. “What the hell?” he thought.

There were dirty clothes strewn everywhere, as well as wadded up balls of tissue paper. Gross! He picked his way across the cluttered room to open the window. At least now there was some flow of air.

“Jimmy, you’re home!”

He turned to see his lil bro Roy at the door. Before he could say anything Roy had crossed the room in an instant and hugged his big bro tight.

“RoyBoy! It’s good to see you!”

Roy’s hug was so touching, Jimmy couldn’t be mad at him for taking his old room. Roy’s head was plastered against Jimmy’s t-shirt and his sweaty arms wrapped around his chest.

“But, man, lil bro. You stink!”

Roy let go of his tight hug and looked up into his big bro’s eyes. His face was sweaty and his brown hair was soaked.

“Ugh, I know, sorry Jimmy. I just ran all the way from Cindy’s.”

Cindy’s place was at least six miles from here. “What were you doing there?”

“We’re doing a school project together.”

Jimmy frowned. “But she’s a senior.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have heard. I’m skipping Grade 11. That shit was just too easy for me.”

“Language, RoyBoy!” Jimmy was amazed and proud of his lil bro’s news, but he’d never known him to swear.

“Haha Jimmy you’re funny. You look good, big bro, you still working out?”

Jimmy laughed. “Of course, kiddo, it’s a lifestyle y’know.”

“Show me, big bro!” Roy gripped Jimmy’s right upper arm and squeezed.

“Oww, quit it!”

“Sorry big bro, did that hurt?”

Jimmy pulled his arm way. “Of course not, smelly! I just wasn’t flexing.” Jimmy put his hand around his lil bro’s arm. He could still make his fingers touch. “And I thought you were going to put on some muscle yourself while I was gone. You slacking, lil bro?”

“As if, big bro. It’s just that…”

In a flash, Roy pulled off his red t-shirt.

“…I wasn’t flexing!”

Jimmy stepped back and looked at his lil bro. He still looked skinny, but it almost looked like he had abs now. Then Roy flexed his arms and the muscles popped out.

Jimmy smiled. “Good for you, bro, you got little biceps!”

Roy grinned. He relaxed his arms and then flexed his right biceps right in Jimmy’s face. Was it Jimmy’s imagination or did it peak a little higher? “Feel it bro.” Roy said, excited.

Jimmy hesitated. The stench from Roy’s armpit, which had a tangle of dark hair in it now, was overpowering. “Nah, man.”

Roy suddenly looked angry. “I said feel it!” His voice this time was deeper, and insistent.

Jimmy immediately put his hand to his lil bro’s arm.

“What the fuck.”

Roy smirked. “Language, Jimmy.”

“Dude that is solid as a rock.” Jimmy couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Though it was small, Roy’s arm was all hard muscle. He couldn’t so much as dent the peak of the little biceps with his fingers.

Roy raised at eyebrow at Jimmy’s efforts. “Try both your hands.”

“Smartass!” Jimmy brought his other hand up, and pushed both his thumbs into the top of the muscle, while gripping the rest of his arm with his fingers. But Roy didn’t cry out as Jimmy expected. He just grunted and flexed harder, his face reddening. Jimmy started to sweat from the effort of trying to crush his lil bro’s muscle with both hands. Finally he felt a cramp in his hand and stopped.

Roy beamed while Jimmy shook out his hand. “I told you I was gonna make you proud, big bro!”

“That’s pretty great, bro.“ Jimmy said weakly. “You know, I’m beat after that long drive, let’s catch up more in the morning.”

Roy’s face broke out into a grin. “Sure thing, Jimmy! Let me take your bag to the guest room.” Roy dropped his t-shirt amid the smelly detritus on the floor and picked up Jimmy’s big duffel bag with one arm. He hauled it over his shoulder, and turned back to his brother. Now Jimmy could see he had triceps and well as biceps, and his dark pit hair was shiny with sweat from his six mile run. From my ex’s place. Jimmy remembered.

Jimmy gulped. “Thanks bro.”

Roy crossed the hall and opened the door to his old room, which their mother had done up as the guest room. Jimmy stepped in and frowned. The whole bedroom was pink. “Are we getting a little sister, or something, bro?”

Roy laughed. “Naw big bro, Mom just went a little overboard with the re-decorating.” He tossed Jimmy’s duffel bag on the taffeta bedspread. “See you in the morning big bro, sweet dreams.”

“Thanks bro, it’s good to be home.”

The door closed and Jimmy looked around the utterly unfamiliar room.

He took off his t-shirt and sniffed at the pits. Despite eight hours sweating in the car all he could smell was his deodorant. Then he put his nose lower down the side of the shirt where Roy had hugged him with his sweaty arms.  The stench was awful.

Jimmy looked up and and said out loud:

“What the fuck is happening?”

Jimmy insisted to his family that he was “too busy” to make it home for his lil bro Roy’s sixteen birthday, and made the same excuses for Thanksgiving. It was only on the long drive home for Christmas break that he really thought about the Columbus Day weekend visit and what it meant to him. He had always been the Golden Child in the family. First born, a good-looking athletic blond kid who grew up to be a handsome leader and Prom King in high school. Then to find coming home after only six weeks away to see his lil bro had taken over his old bedroom, and was spending time with his ex-girlfriend. Even if it was just for a school project, that seemed awkward, and Cindy had completely brushed him off when he’d tried to contact her. Admittedly, Jimmy had dumped her, so he had no right to expect she come running when he called. But, Jimmy had never begged a girl for sex in his life; he had sex thrown at him almost daily by horny undergraduates.

And then there was that weird thing with Roy’s hard little biceps. Jimmy had gone around to all his gym buddies after he got back to campus and made bets that he could crush their biceps. Most of them he could make cry out in pain with just one hand, let alone two hands, and none of their muscle felt as diamond hard as Roy’s had felt. The whole thing still weirded him out two months after the fact.

As he pulled into his suburban neighborhood, off the main road, his car died. Damn, Jimmy thought, this visit is off to a great start. After the long drive, he didn’t want to have to deal with tow-trucks and mechanics tonight. He phoned his Dad and asked him to come down the road and help him push the car the half-mile or so to the driveway.

“I’ll send Roy,” his Dad said.

“Well, I don’t think Roy’s going to be able…” Jimmy started to reply, but his Dad had already hung up.

Jimmy sat in the car as the temperature within started to drop, with no heater to keep the cold at bay. He began to shiver. Tired, he closed his eyes briefly as he thought. What’s taking him so long?

He was woken up by a rap on the window. Jimmy rolled the window down and his lil bro Roy’s face appeared, with a big smile. Wearing a Santa hat and a ski jacket, he leaned his arms onto the window sill.

“Merry Christmas, Jimmy! What’s up bro? Car trouble?”

“RoyBoy! It’s so good to see you!” Jimmy felt his irritation melting away as he stared at his lil bro. His smile seemed to light up the inside of the car, and Jimmy realized that he’d missed him despite all the weirdness of the last visit. “Yeah, this damn Corolla is on its last legs.”

“What a coincidence, today is leg day!” Roy said, and Jimmy looked puzzled. “Put her in neutral.” Jimmy did so and then reached for the door handle. But Roy put his hand on the sill. “No need, I got this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll take the two of us to push.”

“But there’s a turn before we get home, you’ll have to steer.”

“Well then you get in and steer.” Jimmy said, he pulled on the door handle, but the door didn’t budge.

Roy stared at him, smirking. “Bro, I said I got this.”

Jimmy figured the door must be frozen shut. He sat back. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll steer, lil bro.”

Roy went to the rear of the car and Jimmy rolled up the window. He could tell that Roy had grown a little taller since he last saw him, and his face was leaner and more handsome. But even if he’d been working out (”Leg day” he’d said.) he’d never be able to push the car on his own. What was he thinking? Jimmy pulled out his phone to call his Dad again, but stopped dialing when the car started to move.

“I’ll be damned.” he said.

At first the car moved quite slowly, but it began to pick up speed. Jimmy looked behind him but all he could see was the red of the Santa hat. What a goofball, Jimmy smiled. He looked back to the front just in time to see the first turn coming up. He cranked hard on the steering wheel. With no power steering, it took some muscle. Took some muscle, he thought, mentally comparing the task of turning a steering wheel with his brother pushing a ton of steel and glass down a snowy road.

The snowy road. Oh shit. Jimmy realized, there was a stop sign coming up, and there were no power ABS brakes. Roy had got the car going at a good clip, and the brakes would no doubt lock. He tried the brakes, pushing down hard on the pedal, and that was exactly what happened.  Jimmy panicked as the stop sign approached fast, and he saw a speeding truck coming from the left. If they couldn’t stop they’d be t-boned. Jimmy threw himself into the back seat and pounded on the rear windshield to get Roy’s attention. He saw Roy’s face pop up under the Santa hat and then suddenly disappear. In what he thought were his last moments alive, Jimmy was glad that Roy had saved himself.

Then the car stopped dead and the truck roared past.

Jimmy looked out the front windshield and gasped. He opened the car door and jumped out, not sure what he was seeing. Roy was at the front of the car, arms outstretched, hands on the hood, legs bent. He stood up, breathing hard. Jimmy realized with a shock that they were now the same height.

“That was close, huh? Good thing I wore my good boots.” Roy grinned.

Jimmy was stunned speechless. Roy had- had run to the front of the car and stopped it with his bare hands with a truck bearing down on them?  How was that possible?

Roy guided Jimmy back into the front seat. “You’re in shock. Just get in, bro, I’ll take it from here.”  Jimmy sat dumbly in the front seat as Roy pushed the car the rest of the way. When they got to their house, Roy opened the door. “Home sweet home, bro. Does your garage opener still work?” Jimmy nodded silently. Roy reached in his arm and pressed the device clipped to Jimmy’s sunvisor. Jimmy felt like he was sitting in a room in the back in his head and observing what was happening on a TV screen. Roy’s right arm turned the steering wheel and Jimmy was sure he could see the muscles of his arm working under the padding of the ski jacket, but he didn’t see how that was possible. Roy guided the car into the garage of the family home and then offered a hand to his brother.

Jimmy got out and stood in one spot looking around the garage. There was barely room for his car because the rest of the garage was filled with gym equipment. A weight bench, a squat rack, barbells and dumbbells, and lots and lots of iron plates. Roy closed the door and saw his brothers look. “Pretty sweet, huh, bro? Can’t wait until we can get a workout in together.” He slapped his brother on the back and guffawed. “Hey I guess we just did, right bro? I’m sweating like a pig.”

Jimmy huffed his breath, which formed a small cloud in the sub-zero chill. He started to feel a rush of blood to his ears as his brother zipped open his ski jacket and shrugged it off. He was shirtless beneath, and was so perfectly proportioned and shredded that Jimmy didn’t know where to look first. At his broad shoulders with their rounded delts? His pecs, two slabs of muscle like armour plating that were dusted with black chest hair. At his abs, which looked carved from steel?

Then, Jimmy saw it… The sweat from Roy’s exertion pushing the care was evaporating off his astonishing physique, visible in the chilly air of the garage. 

His lil bro was so hot, he was literally steaming.

Roy stood there smiling for a minute until he saw Jimmy’s face, then he reached toward him. “You okay bro?” The motion caused his pectoral muscles to bounce.

“Oh God…” Jimmy said. Then everything went black and he fainted.

Jimmy had reached that point; he had brought his personal trainer Orlando to tears.

 “I don’t know what you want! I’ve trained you for four months and there’s only so much I can do!”

 “It’s not enough! It won’t be enough; I can feel it!” Jimmy raged.

 “You’re more jacked than me! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met! I jack myself raw every night thinking about your golden perfection! What do you want? The angels to weep in envy?”

 Jimmy spat in Orlando’s face and walked away. “Waste of my fucking time and money.”

 But as Jimmy rode in the cab from the airport, he wondered. He felt up the heft of his pecs and the hard roundness of his delts. Would it be enough? He had certainly sacrificed enough. He’d focused so much on working out he’d failed his courses. With all his extra dough gone to supplements and Orlando’s useless personal training fees, he couldn’t afford to re-take his year and had to transfer to the state university and move back home. Meanwhile his brother Roy, and his ex Cindy, had gotten into MIT. He laughed bitterly. Guess I’ll get my room back.

 As the cab pulled up to the family home, Jimmy got out, pulling out his bags. The garage door was open, and he stepped up to edge, but couldn’t bring himself to enter. The man in the garage was repping the bench press with one and a half times Jimmy’s personal best on the squat. Plus there were heavy link chains added to each side of the bar that clinked in the spring air. Jimmy allowed himself to wonder, for a tantalizing few seconds, whether this was a new bodybuilding neighbor, maybe his Mom’s new lover, anybody but the man he knew it exactly to be. Man. Jesus fuck he’s only 16! He watched those pecs, covered in black hair, inflate from thick plates into rounded boulders at the top of the rep. He observed those deep armpits, each with more hair in them than he had on his chest. Yes, a man.

 He turned away from the garage and went in the front door. He dropped his bags, keeping only his laptop bag and went up to the emasculating pink guest room, ignoring his mother’s question: “Jimmy is that you?”

 He opened his laptop and logged into the wifi. He needed answers. Why? He suddenly remembered Abigail, that British chick who constantly talked about literature, and called out his name as she rode his cock. What was it she had said that time after they’d fucked? Something about names? “Names tell you all. Your name it your destiny.” Huh.

 He typed into Google: “Meaning of name Jimmy”

 He squinted at the answer: “Diminutive of James.”

 He typed into Wiktionary: “Diminutive”

Answer: “Extremely small, tiny.” Fuck.

 He typed again: “Meaning of name James”

 “English version of Hebrew Jacob. Examples from history: James the Lesser.”

 He stared blankly at the screen. Eventually he typed:

 “Meaning of name Hebrew Jacob.”

 Answer: “Envious of hairy brother. Heel grabber.”

 Jimmy nodded feeling a sense of relief. He felt his hands tremble as he typed, finally:

 “Meaning of name Roy.”

 ***

 Jimmy stepped into the garage. He stood calmly while his brother Roy rose from the bench. His body unfurled itself in its majesty until he was several inches taller, a foot wider and utterly superior in every possible way. Roy raised his arm to rub his neck as he greeted his bro, now clearly the “lil bro”.

 “Hey bro.”

 Jimmy leaned in slightly and sniffed, absorbing some of his brother’s testosterone funk.

 Then he bent the knee.

 “My king.”

 The End.

[Inspired by @theobromic​‘s amazing commission!]

Check out my new story on my side-blog!

Power Couple

---

Thank you all for waiting! Its a tad longer than I've ever written before.

I hope you all like it! Thanks again to @mrrharper for proof-reading!

----

"Hey, Babe?"

"Yes, Chris?"

"Can you help me put this on?" Chris said, motioning over to the little white tube on the counter top.

As Alex walked over into the kitchen, his boyfriend was already taking off his shirt.

"So, what's this for?" Alex asked, inspecting the label on the tube he just picked.

"You know my co-worker Jack right?"

"The gym bunny, right?"

"Yeah that one."

"So what about him?"

"Well. I was chatting with him during my break and he told him I recently started going to the gym, so he offered me this cream."

"Hmm. What's so special about it though? Looks like any ordinary cream to me" Alex remarked after scrutinizing the ingredient list.

"Uh. He said it helped him a lot when starting out. Helps prevent sore muscles and promotes muscle growth or something."

"Anyway, it's getting a bit chilly. Can you lather me up already?"

"Uh yeah sure, sorry"

Squeezing the tube revealed a solid white cream which felt cool to touch. Alex put a sizeable blob on his hand and spread it out on Chris' back much like you would do with sun screen on a hot summer day. It felt like it too. The thin liquid quickly disappeared into his, what looked to be broader, shoulders as he rubbed it in.

"I think I can see your effort pay off a little already babe, your shoulders look a bit broader" Alex noted.

"Really?" Chris asked, glowing from the compliment.

"Of course!" Alex replied smiling back at his boyfriend.

"Well, this is the only start babe" he said with a confident smirk while quickly putting back on his workout shirt.

"That said, time for my workout. Thanks for helping babe" Chris said giving a peck on his boyfriend's cheek before leaving the apartment.

Chris could definitely feel the work of the cream. Like a machine he was pumping through his sets. Usually, he'd feel his limit kick in quickly. However, today he felt like he could pump another extra 2 sets.

Chris wasn't the only that had noticed the change. One of the biggest guys, Scott had made his way over as Chris was still busy pushing out reps.

"Want me to spot for ya, bro?" a familiar baritone called out.

As Chris looked up he was met with Scott's face.

"Uh yeah. Thanks, that'd be great" Chris replied, not expecting Scott to come over.

Scott was the gentle giant you'd always hear of: mind fully set on lifting but always there to help newbies in the gym.

"No problem bro. I noticed you've been in the gym longer than you'd usually be, you getting a feel for it bro? huhuhuh" Scott said, his hands now hovering under Chris' bar.

"Yeah huhuhuh, today's been great. Been lifting so much more than I usually can, I'm really feeling the burn" Chris replied, surprised at the sudden guffaw he'd apparently taken over.

"Bro you should watch your form, your arms are a bit crooked. It'll make your shoulders will really start hurt, bro. Here lemme show you" he said as he helped Chris rack his bar.

"You've gotta make sure sure you spread your arms wider, it shifts the strain back to your chest muscles" Scott said, as he pushed Chris' arms futher apart.

Taking his advice, Chris once again lowered the bar to start benching another set.

"You feel the strain now, bro?" Scott asked while gently pushing down on your pec muscles

"Yeah bro, that definitely makes a difference" Chris grunted as beads sweat started to form on his face.

"I think you can do better than this bro, let's add a plate"

Normally Chris wouldn't have considered it, but today he was on fire.

"Yeah bro, let's do it!"

As Scott loaded up another plate on each side, Chris felt his motivation rise further.

"Come on lil' bro, you almost have it!" Scott hyped up Chris as his last rep.

With Scott spotting him, he managed to break multiple PRs that day. Not only had he done more sets in one session than he usually would but he also managed lift extra weight.

"Good shit bro, huhuhuh" Scott said as he helped rack the bar again.

"Man, I can't believe it went this well today. I hope I'm not too sore tomorrow" Chris said to himself.

"You'll be alright bro. Let's hit the showers" Scott reassured him while putting away the weights.

After putting back all the weights the two of them walked towards the locker room.

"Hey bro, you've got a good pump now. Gotta show it off, you know what I mean?" he said with a slight smirk.

"Come on bro don't be shy, huhuhuh" he said put his hand around Chris' shoulder and leading him to the mirror.

Like an older brother teaching his younger brother Scott took off his sweaty tank and struck a side chest pose.

"You see bro? Like this" he said to the side as he kept looked straight forward to the mirror.

In the reflection he could see Chris acting shy and hesitant.

Taking matters into his own hands he grabbed onto Chris shirt and lifted it over his head in one swoop.

Chris' sweaty body was now fully on display.

"Hey, uh, what"

Chris was stunned. One second he was lost in thought and now he found his shirt was missing laying on the ground.

"See bro, your body looks good" Scott said, as he placed his large paw of a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Having Scott support him felt really good.

He felt like a big bro to Chris, which reassured him.

Quickly, Chris' hesitation started to fade and he started notice the, albeit small, amount of muscle definition that had started develop.

"I look good bro" Chris said, as he now admired his muscles, his mouth almost agape.

"You do bro. Now come on, show off those arms. Ya know, strike a pose, go crazy huhuh"

Without much hesitation this time Chris flexed his left arm. He looked in the reflection as he saw a bump form as he curled his arm.

"Your arm is looking pretty big now bro, right? huhuh"

"Huhuh, yeah bro. This is great"

"You coming again tomorrow bro?"

"You bet."

"Hey babe, how was your workout?" Alex called over from the living room upon hearing the sound of the door opening.

"It was amazing. This jock cream does wonders. I was able to do like two more sets than usual." he explained as he dropped off his gym bag.

"Wow babe, thats great" Alex said, giving Chris a quick kiss.

"Yeah. The biggest guy even came to spot and me gave me some tips about my form. Bro's amazing" Chris explained enthusiastically.

"Look, he even taught me how to a pose" he said, stricking a double bicep pose.

"You like what you see? huhuh" Chris said with a cocky smirk on his face.

"Yes babe, I do" Alex replied, totally turned on by the sexy muscle and newfound confidence.

"Well then. Let's go somewhere you can see some more" Chris winked, eying at their bedroom door.

"Ah... I really overdid it yesterday" Chris groaned in pain.

"Yeah.... You did...." Alex laughed, rubbing his ass cheeks.

Chris put his arm around Alex as they snuggled up together and cuddled for a couple minutes.

"Alex, could you help me put on the jock cream again? I promised bro I'd be there today as well."

"Of course babe, let me grab it."

Upon returning Alex found Chris laying on his back already. Alex never really paid that much attention but his boyfriend really had some nice definition going.

He was also wondering why Chris was saying bro so often now, but in all honesty, he actually found it kinda hot.

Again he put the cream on his hands and started the massage it into his boyfriends skin.

"You like that bro?" Alex said, thinking his boyfriend is just roleplaying.

"Yeah bro, that hits the spot" Chris replied, letting out a soft moan as the soreness of his muscles soothed.

"So, you're gonna lift with your bros today right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, huhuhuh. You should join bro"

Alex started to think about it.

"Turn around babe, I'll get the front for you as well"

"Thanks babe"

He started fantasizing about becoming a fitness power couple.

"Hmm, perhaps I could try it out some time."

"Bro, no better time than now! Come join me today" Chris said enthuastically.

"I'm not sure yet babe" Alex said, avoiding Chris' gaze.

Noticing that Alex was avoiding looking at Chris he grabbed his arms and flipped him around.

Chris was now on top, pinning down Alex's arms to the matress.

"Come on babe, do it for me" Chris pleaded.

"Okay... Fine" Alex said with a slight giggle.

With a triumphant sigh Chris let go of Alex' arms.

"If I'm going I want to try that cream as well" Alex pouted.

Chris obliged and made sure oil up his boyfriend just as well as he has done for him.

The two oiled up lovers grinned at each other for a moment before starting resuming their cuddle from 15 minutes ago. Whilst cuddling they could feel the slick layer of jock cream rub against each other's skins as it slowly absoorbed into their skins.

"Hey bro, ready for the workout today?" Scott called out at the sight of Chris

"Of course bro, wouldn't want to miss it." Chris replied enthusiastically.

"Lil' bro, who's this?" Scott asked, looking at the newcomer that stood next to Chris.

"This is my boyfriend Alex, Scott. Managed to convince him to go with me to the gym, huhuhuh"

"Nice bro, the more the merrier. The more muscle the better right, bro?" Scott asked Alex who stood awkwardly next to his boyfriend.

"Yeah, bro. Of course" Alex replied.

While it was fun roleplaying with his boyfriend, Alex had to admit it felt kinda embarrased calling Scott a bro. He did however see why Chris said he liked the guy.

"Let's go, broskis" Scott said, heading towards weight room

They started their workouts, going even harder than the day before. The three of them pumped out rep after rep on various machines, aiming to .

"Come on, you can do it. One more rep, just one more" Alex said to hype up Scott as he had already pumped five reps of what seemed to be Alex and Chris' weights combined.

"Nice bro you got this" Chris said, giving Scott a pat on the back.

What Alex thought was just some casual banter between dudes started to worry him now. In his recollection, Chris never said bro before yesterday. If anything his boyfriend not only sounded like a bro but also had started to act like one.

"Hey babe, can I talk to you for a sec?" Alex asked, pulling Chris to the side.

"Ever since you came back yesterday, you've been acting like some frat bro. What's up with that?"

"huhuhuh I guess you're right bro, I have been acting like one"

"There you go again. Chris, what's happening to you?" Alex asked, sounding legitimately concerned now.

Intrigued by the heated conversation Scott had made his way over and put his arms around both men's shoulders. "What's the fuss about bros?"

"I'll tell you what the problem is! 'Bro' this 'bro' that' Alex said angrily as he removed Scott's arm from his shoulder.

"Bro, calm down" Scott said

"I am- uh not a bro!" Alex defended with a slight hesitation in voice.

"Bro, babe, why are you getting so heated? Why not put that energy towards lifting? huhuhuh" Chris said

"Br-babe, I- bro"

Alex could feel his control slipping away.

He felt his brain turn to mush as his worries started to fade.

Bro...

Bro...

Bro...

The more it was repeated, the more Alex lost his way.

Each time he got a step closer.

Step by step.

Until something just snapped.

"Hey bros, why are you just standing there?" Alex asked with a perplexed look on his face.

The fog in his mind had cleared. He was no longer confused.

Alex was a bro. Chris was a bro. Scott was his big bro.

They were always best bros.

"Ah it's nothing bro, you were just being a little dummy" Scott said

"Huhuhuh sorry bro" Alex replied, absently scratching his head

"Let's continue working out, broskis" Chris chimed in.

This time, the trio really managed to finish their workouts. Despite only being a newcomer Alex had been able to lift a huge amount of weight. Normally, one would only be lifting as much if after half a year of consistently working out.

Thanks to the magic of the jock cream however both Chris and Alex could easily push pasts their limits again and again.

Before finishing their workout Chris quickly snapped a pic.

"You two are really becoming a power couple aren't you, broskis? huhuhuh" Scott remarked.

"Huhuhuh yeah bro" Alex said as he continued lifting his barbells.

"Of course bro" Chris chimed in, quickly striking a double bicep pose to show off his gains.

Aronik

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2017-12-03 ---

I was a bit of nerd growing up. Actually, I was a complete nerd. Round red pimples dotted my face. Chalk white skin covered my body. Bulging stubborn fat covered my torso and thighs. Taped wireframe glasses hung on my large bird nose. I was quite the looker.

That all changed one day at the beach. I dreaded going to the beach. Where I'm from, the beach was the only place the good looking people ever went. Their tanned skin, taut muscles, sun kissed hair, glowing confidence all annoyed me. It was totally because I was envious of them. My parents urged me to come with them, and I obliged because what else would I do. I hadn't any friends and although going anywhere with parents at my age was social suicide, I was buried long ago, along with my social reputation.

Anyway, this time was different. I brought a hat and kept my shirt on to avoid the ridicule of the jocks I KNEW were going to be there, like Austin Keller, the hottest guy at school and the object of my affections since fourth grade when we shared my Crayola 64 pack. He didn't know who I was anymore but under my hat and with my book covering my face I would stare all day long at his glistening smile and big muscles bouncing in action. My parents urged me to go to the water and I finally obliged when I foot hit a hard object on my way to the waves. It hurt like a train on a track so I bent down and picked up what looked to be a small golden bee.

Suddenly a man appeared and smiled, saying "Hiya! Aw thanks man you found my statue!" I was perplexed and before handing it over asked why he had this weird idol with him. He responded "I use it for a little shoot I'm running. Thanks for returning it though. Here's a little something in return." He handed me a Speedo and continued, "If you want you can help me by modeling these. Just go into the changing room and swap out your shorts for these. I'm sure they'll look great on you!" I had a humble three inches down there, and my love handles were already spilling over my current shorts, so wearing these would be even more of a reason for the jocks to humiliate me. I gave the guy a deadpan look and he reassured me: "I swear it'll compliment your look. I'm looking for people with... unique looks... so I know you'd be the right fit."

There was nothing to lose so I waddled over to the changing rooms and swapped my shorts for the speedo. The second I put them on a wave of exhaustion came over me. I collapsed and passed out in the room. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but notice how I felt. Lighter, to say the least. I looked down and noticed my shirt was tight against my stomach anymore. In fact, I didn't even have a stomach anymore. The second I put my hand, my skinnier and tanner hand, on my stomach I felt nothing but abs and tight skin. I took off my shirt and was struck by the sight. Caramel tan skin adorned my body, covering round strong pecs and a tight six pack. I looked down at my legs and noticed their impeccable definition. The speedo fit me perfectly and showed off my butt, originally large because of my fat, but now tight and muscular. My arms were no longer chicken wings but huge with trained biceps and triceps that flexed with ease. I finally glanced at the mirror and took in my new face. My new sharp eyes pierced right into my soul. My nose looked brand new, as if I had gotten the best rhinoplasty in the world. My defined jawline was so defined. My plump lips pouted and made me look so. fucking. sexy.

I wanted to check out my new package, but there was a knock at the door. "Hey pal, enjoying the speedo?" I heard a familiar voice say.

"I've never felt better." I replied, hearing my new sultry deep voice for the first time. I opened the door and met the guy, who proceeded to take me down to the water for the photo shoot. As I posed, I noticed Austin not so subtly gawking at me. I offered him a wink and instantly saw his hard on. Let's just say the changing rooms were in need of a clean up after our little session.

Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Gwen could smell the cigarette smoke wafting from one of the apartment windows as she jogged along the street. She always hated this part of the walk because there was usually someone sitting outside on their apartment balcony and she felt "watched." Gwen was in her mid-twenties, just out of college, but single. She worked downtown at a bank and wore fashionable work clothes, but today on her run she wore simple athletic gear. She had an attractive body, lean and fit, and she hoped to keep it that way. It was on this street in particular that she could feel people "watch" her as she ran and it was unsettling. Today, her cell-phone rang, which threw off her running music, so she stopped to check her phone and get the music going again.

When she stopped, she could smell the cigarette smoke even stronger and felt eyes watching her from above. She glanced up and saw a thirty-something guy leaning over the railing and looking at her. She broke eye contact and paced a few steps, but still felt watched. He heard the man clear his throat and spit.

"Lookin' fine, girl! Don' stop now! Keep on'a runnin' " said the guy with a laugh.

She ignored him and tried to get her phone to start her running mix again. While she fussed with her phone, her water bottle slipped and fell onto the sidewalk. She could feel the man's pervert eyes watching her as she reached down to pick it up.

The man let out a loud whistle, "Nice ass! Come by later and I'll help you keep it in shape!"

She had been cat-called before, but this guy was starting to cross a line. Earlier that week, a friend had told her to download an app called "Men Are Dogs." It was supposedly some way to report incidents of guys acting like jerks or "dogs" so other girls could look them up and feel safer. Her friend had thought it was funny to see what kind of guys made it into the database, but Gwen never thought she would actually have to use it.

In a second, she grabbed her phone, opened up the app, and turned to the guy in the balcony.

"You want a picture! I'll give you more than a picture," he shouted as he grabbed his crotch and gestured vulgarly.

This was the first time she actually had a chance to look at this creep of a guy. He was wearing torn jeans and a white sleeveless t-shirt. He was a broad shouldered guy with a big build, but had a beer gut and flabby arms. He looked pretty strong, but not really in shape. His light blonde hair was cropped tight, almost shaved and he had a tattoo on his shoulder. He threw his cigarette in the bushes and licked his lips and thrust towards her again, laughing.

Her phone snapped a picture and within a few seconds the message read "Strike Three," which must have meant this guy had been reported by two other users. The next screen said "Teach this dog a lesson? Yes or No." She wasn't sure what this actually meant, but the guy was being a real dickhead, so she chose "yes."

The screen buffered with the message "Dog in Training," which had a picture of a muscular man wearing a dog collar and panting stupidly. She looked up and saw the man on the balcony look like he was choking and fall to his knees. She ran closer, hoping it wasn't all some stupid act. He was pawing at something at his neck, which Gwen realized was a leather collar. He made a few choking sounds and then looked at her and stuck his tongue out stupidly. Suddenly, his body started to shape shift into a compact, muscular dog. She saw a leash attached to the collar and the dog pleaded softly and looked up at her.

Her phone vibrated and she read the message, "Say hello to Kurt." She grabbed the leash, not sure what do with this man that she had watched transform into a dog. She was happy that he had stopped harassing her, but thought this was maybe an extreme reaction. The phone continued by asking "Bring Home or Bring to Pound?" She chose "bring home," but just wanted to get out of there before anyone one noticed. Kurt trotted in front on his leash while she finished her run.

As soon as she got home, she texted Amanda, the friend that had shown her the phone app. "No way!" was Amanda's reaction, "send a pic." Gwen snapped a picture of Kurt and sent it. "I'm coming over," Amanda replied.

--

"Oh my god!" Amanda squealed when Gwen explained what had happened. "He's so cute," she said as she pet Kurt on the back while he panted and barked.

"Well, he was saying all this stupid shit, and I just thought I'd take a picture and leave ... but it turned him into this dog ... and now I don't know how to turn him back!" Gwen stammered. "I don't want a dog!"

"But Gwen, look at him," Amanda said as she continued to pet Kurt's head.

"I don't want a dog! Especially one that was some sicko guy from the street!"

Gwen's phone suddenly vibrated again and she pulled up the app. She saw a picture of Kurt before he was a dog and the words "Teach your dog a new trick? Yes or No."

"What should I do," Gwen said in frustration. Amanda grabbed the phone and chose "yes." Kurt whimpered a little and then rolled over on his back. In a few minutes, his dog body had transformed back into the original Kurt, but he stayed motionless on the floor. Thankfully, his clothes had reappeared so they didn't have to see a nude guy "appear" on the living room floor.

"Woah," said Amanda. "So you're not kidding!"

"Of course not!" shouted Gwen. "This is him!"

"Give a command," prompted the phone and Amanda selected "Roll over." Kurt obediently rolled onto his belly. "Stand up," and Kurt stood up. "Try your own," read the phone. "Take off your shirt and flex," shouted Amanda. "Amanda! Stop it!" Gwen tried to say, but Kurt obeyed by taking off his white t-shirt and flexed his muscles. While Amanda gawked about controlling Kurt, Gwen saw her pile of unfolded laundry and had an idea for a command. "Kurt, fold my laundry." Dutifully, he walked over and started folding clothes. "Nice one," Amanda replied. "You've got a live-in butler!"

While Kurt folded clothes, the phone popped up another message. "See grooming options." Amanda and Gwen fiddled with the sliding bars, one for muscle, hair, height, etc., but they couldn't decide so they selected "Suggested grooming." They watched Kurt transform again, this time into a muscular young man with ripped abs, a tight ass with a thin waist. Long legs and arms with lean muscle, broad shoulders and sucked in stomach. His hairy belly and back were smooth, like he was properly groomed. Even his smile and eyes looked more attractive.

"Good lord!" said Amanda. "Take off your pants, Kurt!" and he obeyed. "No, like in a strip show!" Kurt walked over to her and started grinding while slowly unbuttoning his jeans. He had on a pair of tight underwear which showed his massive cock. But Gwen choose, "Kennel" on the app and Kurt stopped, curled up on the living room floor and within a minute was back to dog form.

"Oh come on!" said Amanda. "It was just getting fun."

"It's late, Amanda," said Gwen. "And I have to work. Plus, I just want to go to bed and figure out what to do about this in the morning."

"Fine," said Amanda as she headed towards the door. "But invite me over so I can play with your 'dog' once and awhile."

"Haha," replied Gwen drolly.

--

At 6:00 AM, Gwen heard scratching at her door. "What the?" she said as she staggered. She opened the door and saw Kurt scratching his paws to get her attention.

"Do you have to go outside," she asked and she knew the answer was yes. She grabbed the leash and walked him outside to take a piss on the lawn. She changed into her running gear and thought maybe she could take Kurt running with her.

After the run she started getting ready for work and took a quick shower. She stepped out wearing only her towel and screamed when she saw a man standing in the kitchen. But she realized it was only Kurt, who was busy cooking breakfast. He was wearing only his underwear and was the muscular version of himself from last night.

"What are you doing?" asked Gwen, as if talking to a pet. She was startled when he answered, "Making breakfast for you."

"Wait, you can talk?"

"Of course I can talk!"

The whole time since taking Kurt home, she hadn't heard him speak a word. Also, she noticed that even though she was only wrapped in a towel, Kurt was making perfect eye contact with her, not looking at her body or barely covered breasts, just right into her eyes. She felt a little sad for him, but also a sort of "puppy love" at how cute he was making breakfast for her. She finished changing, ate breakfast, and headed towards the door.

"Kurt, I'll be back around 5. Just don't mess anything them and keep clean, okay. Make yourself lunch."

"Have a good day, Gwen," Kurt answered with excitement as she closed and locked the door.

--

When Gwen opened the door to her house she didn't know what to expect. Would Kurt still be there? Would he be a dog-dog or a man-dog? Would he have run away? Would she keep him? What about Kurt's friends and family?

"Kurt, I'm home," Gwen called out. She heard the shower turn off and Kurt ran towards her, this time completely naked.

"Hi Gwen!" he said enthusiastically. She saw that Kurt's massive cock was swaying, half-erect. "Wanna get some exercise?" said Gwen.

"Yes, of course!" answered Kurt, who loved running. He ran to get the leash and held it out to her.

"Not that type of exercise," said Gwen as she led him towards the bedroom. "You're going to fuck me until I tell you to stop, okay!"

"Okay," he said, hopping up on the bed.

"And you're not going to talk until I tell you," she said. Kurt nodded.

"And go slow. You need to be more man and less dog right now," she added as she dropped her work skirt to the ground and pulled off her blouse.

After there love-making -- the best Gwen had ever had! -- Gwen had a notification on her phone. "Training Complete. All Men Are Dogs!"

She looked over at the muscular man-dog lying in bed next to her, looked at his smooth chest, thin waist, and tight ass, and put down the phone, fully determined to adopt this stray and keep him well-trained.

Identity Death

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

As directed by @mrrharper

“Endless war will end our world!” Alan shouted.

“Stop funding our military!”

Alan was amongst the hundreds of protestors at the courthouse fighting against the proposed budgetary reforms. Schools, roads, transportation, parks, environmental protections agencies–they were all on the line. Through the presented bill, thousands of institutions would be shut down as billions of dollars would be rerouted towards a single entity: the military.

“The military corrupts! Stop the brainwashing!” Alan spat. He had organized this event under his alias, a popular political blogger on multiple social media outlets. Although his voice was loud and aggravated, Alan's physical appearance was anything but. He wore a baby blue tee and white-washed skinny jeans. 5’7 with bleached hair. All he needed was a rainbow somewhere to perfect his twink look. But he was not here to make that kind of statement. He was at the protest to make another form, something that could gain traction. Peering across the crowd, Alan saw his chance. 

A few of Alan’s fellow protestors were bombarding one of the towering guards with jeers. They scrutinized him, although it appeared none of their words got through the soldier’s heavy artillery padding. In fact, the solider stood proud in his position, dominantly poised with his chest puffed up in pride. Alan approached the guard slowly, noticing he remained perfectly still as the protestors continued to insult him. Without thinking twice, Alan approached and made his move. 

“How about you show us what they’re really funding, dickhead?”

Alan threw a fist at the soldier, putting all his strength behind the movement. Due to the crowds, the soldier did not recognize the motion until it was too late. Alan’s knuckle dove right into the much taller man’s neck, ricocheting into the muscular, masked chin. Instantly, there was a cheer from the crowd at the successful blow, but it was quickly hushed.

“You pathetic cocksucker,” the soldier growled. In a flurry, the once peaceful statue became a merciless brute, swinging down and dragging Alan out of the crowd. Before he knew it, Alan found himself handcuffed with the soldier escorting him off into the enemy’s territory.

“You can’t do this! This is illegal!” Alan cried out. 

“Shut your whiny mouth.” As soon as they were out of public sight, the soldier slapped Alan hard across the face. The warmth of blood soon filled his cheeks where the bruise began to bloom. Alan made sure not to react, but he could not hide the worry in his voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The barracks, you fairy prick.”

The soldier brought Alan to a building not too far from the protest lines. He guided them down numerous hallways, Alan losing track before they even made it halfway there. There were checkpoints, various nods, and some curt conversations with other soldiers, but nobody questioned about Alan or the situation. Eventually, Alan was tossed into a small makeshift bedroom, only holding a cot and a pile of unwashed clothes.

“Get undressed,” the soldier demanded.

“Why should I listen to you?”

Alan was met with another forceful assault, this time a punch to his gut.

“Cause I’m First Sergeant, maggot, which means out of the two of us, I’m in charge.”

Alan scoffed. “Is that your name: ‘First Sergeant’?”

“First Sergeant QF24,” the soldier gruffly shot back.

“That’s not a name either,” Alan replied. 

“Been in service so long I don’t need a civilian name.”

Alan wanted to jump on this, make a point about how this was evidence of the dangers of the military, but First Sergeant continued.

“While my identity is real, I assume the one you were about to give me is not. What do you go by, something like that 'AlanActivist' snot?”

Alan blushed, believing that his pseudonym had been cool and unique.

“It’s about time you considered that maybe it is not the military that enforces this ‘identity death’ you all are so worried about, but your own belief system.”

“You can’t be serious,” Alan snarked, surprised at the soldier’s intelligent argument. First Sergeant was however humorless, once again pointing to the pile of discarded clothes.

“Get dressed, degenerate.”

The soldier placed one of his giant, gloved hands behind the twink’s back and pushed him towards the pile. It appeared to Alan as a giant heap of army green and camouflage. Slowly but hesitantly, he began to strip himself of his clothing, hoping to avoid any further hazing. Once down to his underwear, he silently pleaded that he would not have to drop anything else.

“Soldiers go commando, sissy.”

First Sergeant quickly appeared behind Alan before ripping his underwear clean off, exposing the twink’s bare bottom and small package to the world. Alan quickly covered himself up with one hand before leaning down towards the pile. He grimaced, his fear no longer overriding the powerful musk seeping from the military cloth. First Sergeant chuckled at his disgust from behind.

“Aren’t homos supposed to like that kind of thing?” he asked, before grabbing the back of Alan’s head. “Go on, get a better whiff of it!” Amused, First Sergeant plunged Alan’s head into the musky pile of clothes. Alan’s oxygen supply was cut off, forcing him to inhale the overpowering masculine fumes.

“You idiots never consider that being in the military is hard work. It’s not all fun and guns.” First Sergeant smothered Alan’s head further. “‘Bout time you realize what it’s like, standing on the front line all day, hot and sweaty and random strangers berating you for protecting their country, their freedom.”

The military body odor seeped into Alan’s system, numbing his body and clouding his mind. By the time he was pulled away, the naked twink struggled to form a coherent thought.

“Much better,” First Sergeant noted the lopsided smile on the twink’s face. “Now, fit yourself into some tactical gear.”

Without questioning it, Alan followed the soldier’s command. He did not know every single piece of equipment that went into the common soldier’s uniform, nor did he understand the procedure to follow, but somehow Alan managed to get the attire onto his body.

Combat pants, military-grade socks, gore tex boots. Camouflage button-up, hardshell jacket, belt with holster and magazine pouches. Shooting gloves, army print hat, face mask. It took a minute longer for Alan to place every minor piece of tactical protection onto himself, but finally his smaller frame was completely covered, dwarfed by the oversized gear.

“Looking like a real soldier there,” First Sergeant mocked. “Now let’s actually make you one.”

Already covered in the musky clothing, Alan’s intellectual ability had been dulled considerably. But when First Sergeant approached, clutching Alan’s head once more before shoving it into his wet armpit, his brain completely halted. Coming straight from the source, the soldier’s stench wafted past all Alan’s barriers, taking control immediately. Its first instruction was to keep sniffing, its second was to conform.

With a chuckle, First Sergeant watched as Alan’s body began to expand underneath his hold. The shrimpy twink grew inside of the tactical gear, filling it out properly in every direction. Muscular arms filled the sleeves of the jacket, meaty hands stuffing the crevices of the gloves. The vest became as padded on the back as it was in the front, juicy pectorals and rigid abdominals forcefully pushing against the fabric. 

Thicker thighs padded the pants, bloated feet crowded the massive boots. Two muscular buttocks crammed the seat of Alan’s pants. A lantern jaw and cleft chin became prominent underneath the face mask. Buzz cut hidden by the cap, deeper voice waiting to confirm with “Sir, yes sir!” First Sergeant even noticed the prominent padding his new soldier was developing beneath the belt. When he ultimately removed Alan from his hold, the man before him now stood at the same domineering height.

“Good, now just stand still for one moment.”

Even if he wanted to, Alan could not move. The musk was still lingering in his mind, holding him steady as First Sergeant deposited an obnoxious military headset onto Alan’s head. He then plugged the headset into a walkie-talkie before tuning it to an empty channel. A robotic voice began looping into Alan’s ears, along with a few simple tones to open up the receptive pathways in his brain.

“Ready to get back out there?” First Sergeant asked, knowing his fellow soldier could not hear him. With a smirk, he escorted the dumbfounded subordinate out of the room, pacing slowly as Alan absorbed the propaganda. It was simple phrases, nothing too complicated but through repetition effective on the psyche. “Military good,” “pacifism bad”. “Nationalism good,” “multiculturalism bad.” “Masculinity good,” “progressivism bad.” The messages were rudimentary, but deliberate.

Once they stepped back into the open, fresh air, Alan’s consciousness resurfaced. He tried to fight back against the rampant messaging, doing his best to tune out the audios as the First Sergeant led him back to the front line. Alan was being attacked on all fronts: his morals, his identity, his sexuality. Every time he turned away to defend one trait, it was like he lost another. He felt himself dwindling, chipping away.

Before long, the two stood directly in front of the courthouse, mere feet away from their first encounter. First Sergeant loaded the new soldier up, arming the man with a weapon and other items necessary in case of an emergency.

“Let’s see if you’re done cooking yet.” First Sergeant looked directly into his subordinate’s eyes, pleased with their reflective quality. He then removed the headphones.

“Name and rank, soldier?” he saluted. The other man fell into place, mirroring his actions.

“Private Aaron Steel, MH36 sir!”

First Sergeant smiled. The name change was a good sign of transition, but complete removal would have been preffered.

“Ready for the task, soldier? Will you be loyal and obedient to the greatest nation? Follow every instruction in the name of tradition?”

The soldier nodded his head quickly, “Affirmative, sir.”

“Alright then.” First Sergeant replaced the headphones back onto the private’s head, knowing a little more time would do the trick. “Dismissed. Get back to work, private.”

“Sir yes sir!”

First Sergeant strolled back to his command at the front line. The new private monitored the crowd, absorbing his commands as he scanned for any disturbances.

Boxered Into a Promotion

(Hi Bros, Im sorry about the delay. The 1k special is still in the works but here’s a great story I’ve been working on with my friend @rozza22365. Honestly couldn’t have finished it without him. If you haven’t checked out his stories make sure you do, as they are one of the hottest tf stories on tumblr)

Tim had just started his new internship as a business analyst at Box Menswear. He wasn’t the happiest to be interning at a gym wear company but it was the only internship offer he got this summer, and he knew he needed some experience before finishing school and entering the workforce.

The first few weeks at the internship consisted of getting to know everyone and all the departments. Tim felt out of place. While everyone was smart they did consist of this frat bro type of guys and the only girls were the ones that worked in the marketing department. One day while Tim was working in his cubicle, Jessica the marketing head came up to him.

“Hi, Tim! It’s Jessica from Marketing.” Jessica said in an upbeat fashion typical of the marketing girls

“Oh hi Jessica, what brings you to this side of the office”

“Well! We just got news from the exec team that we will be opening a new store in Miami and we decided to invite one of our interns to the grand opening. We drew names and boom you were the lucky one!”

“Oh um… thank you Jessica, but I don’t know, I really don’t have the money”

“Oh don’t worry about that Tim! The trip is all paid for by the company. We see a lot of potential in you and would love for you to come. Of course, you would be accompanied by me as your guide and you’ll see how we launch our store. We fly out of JFK on Friday at 8 am. See you then!"

Tim wasn’t able to get a word out before Jessica walked away back to the marketing floor. Tim realized that he didn’t want to make a bad impression with the company so he decided he would suck it up and go on the trip.

Friday came around and Tim got to the airport. The company ordered him a complimentary taxi to the airport. As he got out and saw Jessica standing in the private wing of the airport talking on the phone. As she spots Tim she quickly hangs up and waves at him to come over.

“Wow, Jessica I’ve never been to this part of JFK,”

“Haha! Most people haven’t, this is where company jets tend to fly out so we don’t have to worry about other people,”

After waiting a bit for the plane to fuel up and load Tim and Jessica's luggage, they head out to the boarding area. The inside of the plane was small but lavish, having white leather chairs and black tables.

Tim’s eyes widen at the luxury of the interior. Jessica noticed and just smiled as they got settled in for the journey.

As they finally got in the air the stewardess walked up to the two and asked if they wanted a drink. As she brought back the two drinks she first gave the drink to Jessica then reached back to her cart and was about to hand Tim his drink.

“So Tim, just before you settle down, I need you to do something,” asked Jessica.

“Yeah,” Tim replied. Jessica pulled out a small box with some neatly folded black briefs.

“Not only are we opening a new store but we will be announcing some new male underwear, and journalists can get quite chatty, even with something as minor as this. I need you to try them on, tell me everything you think about it, preferably the good aspects,” she said.

“Sure, I can do that,” Tim replied again, hastily grabbing the box. The only place with any privacy was the toilet.

Tim made his way to the back of the jet and entered the toilet. The interior was similar to the rest of the plane but with wooden accents. As he walked inside he didn’t notice the bathroom automatically locked behind him. He began undressing, starting with his shoes, then trousers and finally his underwear. He pulled the black briefs up his legs taking in anything unique to them. He stretched them out to see how easy to wear and resilient they were, before letting go and letting them slap against his waist. As far as he could tell they were pretty standard briefs, but he needed to come up with something, so stood there pondering on anything he could think up.

“SUBJECT HAS ENTERED…. PROCEEDING TO SCAN BODY” Tim was freaked out by the voice as a red light started to scan the room beginning from top to light. “SUBJECT FOUND IN COMPANY DATABASE…. Tim Crawford…. Age 23… student intern in business analytics department… ” Tim was starting to panic now as a robotic arm came down from the ceiling,

“SUBJECT TIM IS IN POSSESSION OF DNA BRIEFS… scanning briefs for DNA package… package found…analyzing…” The voice continued, ignoring Tims's pleas as it scanned a secret barcode on the briefs. Tim was about to cry and ask about what was happening, but the robotic voice cared little for his suffering. “DNA PACKAGE DANIEL THOMPSON… activate package and begin conversion…”

As Tim continues to hear the robotic voice speak he tries to open the door but to no avail. “THE DOOR HAS BEEN LOCKED FOR YOUR SAFETY…. PLEASE BACK AWAY” ordered the voice. But he continued anyway, even screaming for help for someone to get him. Of course, Jessica was hearing every part but she wasn't going to help.

The voice continued to repeat to Tim to step away from the door… until it stopped, but only for a second. “ SUBJECT IS UNRESPONSIVE TO COMMANDS…. RESTRAINTS INITIATED”. Out of nowhere tentacle-like robotic arms came out from the walls and wrapped themselves around Tim, hoisting him up in the air. “Ahhhh stop this!!! HELP!” Tim continues screaming but with no response from the outside.

“OUTER GARMENT REMOVAL INITIATED” additional arms with claw attachments of the end come out of the walls ripping off Tim's suit and leaving him almost naked in the middle of the restroom, only the black briefs remained and they felt tight. Tim's typical nerdy build was exposed. Skinny and pale with some acne throughout his body. His cock was just below average and wasn’t really proud of it.

“STAGE 1: SKIN PIGMENT…..currently 0%…. Updating to 60%…” as the voice finishes Tim notices Panels on the wall start to turn around revealing long fluorescent light bulbs similar to those in tanning beds. As they all turn on he feels a sharp burning pain on his skin, causing him to scream. In the background of his screaming, he hears the faint robotic voice counting up from 0%…. 1%…. 5%…..13%. This continues for a few more minutes as Tim continues to scream in pain until the voice reaches 60%. The lights then shut down and turn back into the wall. In the corner of Tim’s eye, Tim notices the paleness from his skin had been burnt out, leaving a rosier and healthier colour in its place.

STAGE 2: BODY ODOR AND HAIR… THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS MINIMAL BODY HAIR AND ODOR… CHANGE COMMENCING” As the robotic voice finished, two new arms appeared but this time with what seemed like two aerosol canisters attached to the end. Before Tim could even react, the cans unleashed perfume all over his body. Tim coughing through the spray made out a few words “wait this smells familiar…” and then it clicked this was the same scent box menswear produced for their body spray “Alpha” it smelled like a mixture of a locker room musk and a cheap men’s fragrance. He always hated how the models would be wearing it during the product photo shoots. As the arms continued to spray his body, Tim didn’t notice that the genetic structures of his sweat glands were being forcibly changed as the chemicals from the gas started to penetrate and merge. No matter how much he showered or cleaned, the perfume fragrance would be a permanent aura around him. As the procedure came to an end, Tim could still smell the scent of Alpha lingering on his skin.

Out of nowhere, two more arms appeared with a stick of deodorant that looked the same. It moved quickly and applied the body odour to his armpits. As the slimy texture from the deodorant finished seeping into his skin and a tickling feeling arose in his pits as dark black hairs started to protrude out, blotting out any blonde hairs he had. As he looked down still restrained from the tentacles he noticed the large bushes on either side of his underarms, additionally, he got a whiff of the alpha scent coming from them even stronger than before. Deep down he knew even with his arms down the hairs would stick out of his sides.

STAGE 3: MUSCLES MASS…. THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS 10% MUSCLE MASS….. INCREASING DENSITY BY 98%......

“Please help! Stop this…” Tim pleaded. As he finished screaming for help, more arms and tubes came out of the wall. The first one latched onto Tims's mouth, before extending a tube down his mouth and into his stomach. Tim could barely make a noise as the muscles in and around his mouth had been subdued. The other arms contained syringes full of some liquid. They positioned themselves around Tim’s body, at strategic points before launching simultaneously and injecting him. Tim would scream if he could but all he could do was gurgle endlessly. Two more arms came out but this time two suction cups were attached at the end of them. Tim looked at them and thought about what they could possibly be doing until they launched towards his pecs. The two suction cups locked onto Tim's nipples as they settled onto them, stinging them slightly. Tim heard a noise from one of the walls as a whitish-brown liquid started to come down the feeding tube. Tim continued to try to scream and squirmish to take out the tube. Some disgusting liquidated food poured down the tube endlessly. Tim squirmed as he saw it pass sight and go straight down into his stomach where it finished. Then the syringes effortlessly squeezed the liquids in them into his body forcing it to absorb the chemicals. Finally, the two suction cups vibrated as they sucked away at his nipples, causing Tim to moan pleasurably.

As the chemicals settled in his body, the food continuously fed into him and the cup vibrated, Tim's body began to grow unnaturally. Firstly came his biceps which inflate into footballs, followed by his legs growing so much that they were able to crush a watermelon between them with ease. Of course, with his legs growing his feet expanded from a small size 7 to a hefty size 13. Tim continued to try and yell, but the tube continued to chug, feeding his expanding body. The muscles continued to move throughout his body as 8 slabs popped out of his abdomen, a perfected set of washboard abs. Tim moaned as the vibrating cups became more intense, almost as they pulled out his pecs outwards building two huge shelves that will certainly stretch out any shirt he wears from now on. His nipples became so hard and pointy, that no shirt would conceal them.

“MUSCLE GROWTH FINALIZED……” The machine said as all the tubes and needles reverted back into the wall leaving Tim there hanging from the original four arms.

“Pl…please… I don't know how much I can take…. Stop” Tim said pleading

“PHYSICAL CHANGES AT 85%... Proceed with IMPLANTATION OF DANIELS MENTAL STATE… 3…2…1…”

The mirror in front of Tim then changed to a screen. A spiral popped up and Tim’s eyes were forced to stare into the abyss as the spirals got deeper and deeper. Tim’s mind was becoming dull, his thinking slowed down and he could barely piece together simple thoughts. All he knew was the spiral in front of him. As it went on he swore he could see images and small scenes flying out of the screen, but this was just part of the illusion. Foreign thoughts now began invading his mind. His new body was just his body, it needed to be maintained through dieting and working out. He worked at Box menswear but not as an intern, he was a spokesperson. His name wasn’t Tim anymore, It was Daniel Thompson but everyone called him Danny.

“IMPLANTING DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE… at 10%... 50%... BEGIN FACIAL GROOMING PROCEDURES” the voice screeched again. Tim was absorbed into the spirals, his mind emptying itself of its memories as Danny’s memories were planted in their place, slowly taking over.

Arms yet again appeared from the walls, this time they were there to fix up Tim’s ungroomed hair. One of the arms had another unnamed canister full of perfume. This canister sprayed a musky perfume across his face, Tim was still unphased by this or the itching that followed as a great chinstrap snapped its way across his face making him look more manly, while his blonde eyebrows grew thicker in size and turned dark brown. Another arm possessed a trimmer and while another complimented it with a pair of scissors. These two got to work shortening his hair down, fading the sides into the top while cutting the top down into a short wavy style. It was then finished off with a spray and the blonde hair turned dark brown as well.

GROOMING 100% COMPLETE… IMPLANTATION OF DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE AT… 85%

Daniel knew these thoughts were wrong and held on, trying to fight them. But his mind was so dull and inactive, that he couldn’t do much but let them in unfiltered. Surprisingly though, the thoughts weren’t taking hold at first. They were melting into his defenceless brain, but Tim felt unphased by any of them.

“DANIELS MENTAL CAPABILITIES AND STATE 100% IMPLANTED… MOVING ON…” Daniel sighed relief as the spirals vanished in front of him and his mind came too. He began wondering and panicking about what to do and how to get out of here.

“SUBJECT SHOWS INADEQUATE REPRODUCTIVE SIZE……. PROCEEDING TO INCREASE” Soon a new arm came out of the wall this time with some sort of tube connected at the end of it….. It almost looked like those pocket pussys….. The boxers came down and the chub of his dick was left exposed. The tube then launched out sucking up his flaccid penis. “AH, WHAT THE FUCK” Daniel yelled. The machine started to suck on his cock “uhhhh wa..wait …UHHH stop” Tim could barely get words as the machine continued to suck on his dick. What he couldn't see happening was the more the machine sucked the more his cock would grow.

“SUBJECT IS REACHING COMPANY STANDARD SIZE……. 10 INCHES FOR BOX MODELS,” The machine said as Daniel continued to moan.

“SUBJECT WILL REQUIRE FURTHER MENTAL STIMULATION… subject Tim is registered as homosexual… Daniel is required as heterosexual…” The voice went on. ‘That can’t be right, who’s Tim? I’m definitely Daniel and I’m 100% Gay?’ Daniel thought as he began to realise what was happening to him, the mental effects were lurking inside him, simply waiting to be activated. He couldn’t remember anything from before but he needed to resist whatever came next.

The mirror changed again, this time, however, there was no spiral. Instead scenes of hot models with thin bodies, their tits becoming exposed and the models playing with them. Daniel resisted as well as he could, but his dick was being forced to erect itself as the machine vibrated with intensity. Eventually, a guy joins the models and starts fucking them in all kinds of positions. Daniel tries to focus on him, keeping himself attracted to the man, but instead, he finds his mind wandering to the lures of fucking and breeding chicks, being an absolute womanizer and showing off his body to get them.

Daniel resists as much as he can, but he’s barely aware that his dick is now at full mast and leaking pre-cum. However, to his relief, as the first drop is released, the machine vanishes back into the wall.

“DNA CONVERSION COMPLETE… RELEASING SUBJECT…” The voice said before all the arms restraining vanished as if they had never been there. Daniel pulled up his pants, imprisoning his jackhammer, his pride. He still had no clothes but he needed to find out what was happening. He opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

“WOW… The machine worked wonders on you…” wafted Jessica’s voice, squeezing out a high level of arrogance. Daniel turned to see her lying, stretched out on the luxury sofa. She was now wearing something far more skimpy. Daniel approached, hoping to get answers, but as he did his crotch began stirring. He rushed his hands over to rectify the issue but his eyes were thoroughly fixated on Jessica.

“OH don’t worry about that, come over Danny boy, Let me take care of it for you,” she said seductively. Daniel wanted to respond with a retort or a question. However, he found his body rushing with arrogance and cockiness, something wasn’t right.

“Oh, you can definitely take care of it, Jess,” he cooed back to her. His hands pulled down the boxers and let his crotch flop out. All fear, anger or questioning he had vanished, now replaced with arrogance and horniness. The memories that had been implanted in his mind were coming to fruition. He was Danny, he was a spokesperson for the company, he loved to, and needed to work out daily to make sure he kept in shape for his job.

“Looks like everything's coming too,” She said as Danny overshadowed her. The implanted memories were forming the full picture. The heterosexual desires implanted had full reigns over him, focusing him on the chick right in front of him. His dick was raging, eager to fuck and so was Danny now.

“The fuck you on about? Let’s just get down to it,” he demanded, as he jumped down next to her.

Jessica was about to reply but Danny went in for the kill. He took her lips and made out with her, pushing her back down to the side as he rearranged them both, positioning himself on top. Danny took no time in preparation, to him he had fucked 1000s of chicks before and this was no exception. His dick found its way to her hole, and Danny fucked her hard, taking his time to savour the pleasure, all while making out with her. Danny was so horny and he felt good to release and give in to his new pleasure, but he could feel the pleasure building up and slowly sliding its way down to his tip.

“Oh fuck… here it comes!!” he moaned as his tip exploded with his massive load. His seed being sent deep inside her.

“Fuck that was good,” she said.

“Approaching landing zone soon, finish up and get ready for landing in twenty minutes,” came the pilot via the speaker.

“You need to get ready, Danny. Go get some clothes and snap a pic or two for social media," said Jessica.

Danny got up to get his boxer briefs and then went to get some clothes. His mind had settled. He was Danny, the new spokesperson for BOX MENSWEAR. As he put on a white t-shirt and some gym shorts he caught himself in the mirror and couldn’t resist a chance to show off to the fans.

Ostello della Moda: Christofano

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Tyler tried arguing with the man at the luggage counter but it was getting him nowhere. "My luggage was never transferred from Oslo ... but what will I do?" Tyler had planned on arriving later than his friends, but at the last minute, his booking company offered him a free upgrade to travel earlier. He was supposed to get there in the evening, but it was only 10:00 AM. Clearly, this "free" upgrade had cost him a day without his luggage. He had checked everything except a small backpack with his passport, phone, and a sweatshirt. He basically had the clothes on his back.

"And ... when my luggage comes ... you will transfer it to my hotel?" he asked.

"Yes," said the man speaking with very broken English. "Ostello della Moda..." he continued in rapid Italian. A few minutes later, he had negotiated with a few more customer service agents to get a free taxi ride to the hostel. The driver said he worker for "Ostello" and would bring him there immediately. But after an hour of winding through the grimier streets of Milan, Tyler wasn't so sure he trusted the man. The taxi drove past what looked like the red carpet to a fashion show or celebrity event. A few meters later, the cab pulled into a gated courtyard.

"Ostello della Moda," said the driver.

"Are you sure?" said Tyler. "This doesn't look like the picture I remember." The driver opened the trunk, jumped out and grabbed his backpack. Before Tyler could open his door, the driver ran into the courtyard with his backpack.

"Shit!" Tyler shouted as he struggled with the door, stumbled out of the cab, and raced after the man. The man turned into a dark door and Tyler followed him. He needed to get his backpack! Otherwise, he was lost in Italy with no phone, no IDs, and no money! He burst into the dark room and was knocked out cold by a stranger hiding inside.

"No ... please ... I don't have anything ..." Tyler mumbled as a pair of men pinned him down. His cab driver had opened his backpack and found his money and ID. "Let me go ... please ..." But the men had him trapped. One of them put a cloth over his mouth that had a fragrant chemical -- almost cologne like. He gagged a little, but then relaxed. He drifted off to sleep...

When he woke up, he could faintly hear electronic dance music through the walls. He had expected to be tied up in a dark room somewhere, but was just sitting on a chair in what looked like a dressing room. He blinked in the bright lights and saw that he had been stripped except for pair of tight athletic shorts. He looked down at his body in shock. His dark tan skin was covered in short curly hairs. His torso and abs were chiseled. His arms had small veins popping out toned muscle. He looked in the mirror and saw dark eyes looking back, a sexy stubbled jaw, and a thin dark mustache and goatee.

"Merda, che ora è?" he thought to himself, realizing a second later, than he had thought the phrase in Italian, not English. His head was pounding and the music seemed to be getting louder.

A short aggressive woman burst into the room and shouted at him. "Christo! Mossa! Tu sei il prossimo!" He jumped up and raced after her. He was backstage of a theatre that was filled with smoke, bright lights, and upbeat electronic music. Dozens of other men were crowded around him, each surrounded by crew members adjusting their clothes, fixing their makeup, and pushing them towards the door onto the stage. One of the crew dangled some necklaces over his neck and placed a neon baseball cap on his head. They adjusted a few bracelets on his arms. A young man wearing a headset pointed at him as the crew finished by oiling his chest so he looked sweaty and rugged. In a second, he followed the man in front of him onto the runway.

It was an exhilarating experience. Dozens of cameras flashed as he walked down the runway, making his turns, and modeling his body and clothes. He felt empowered as they gazed on his nearly naked body. It was a primal and raw feeling. He turned back towards the entrance -- a completely changed man! He had become Christofano -- one of hundreds of male models working in fashion district of Milan. With every new outfit, every camera flash, and every trip down the runway, he was embracing his new life.

After the show, he found was given a backpack with a set of clothes. He assumed they were his, so his way back to the courtyard where the taxi had dropped him off. The driver was waiting there. He handed him a cell phone and passport, which he said that Christofano had left behind accidentally in the cab. He thanked him and they drove off to the "Ostello della Moda." He saw a message from the airport and the hostel on his phone. His bag had been transferred to the hostel, he was in Bunk C. He texted his friend, who he hoped would meet him at the bar for a night of celebration.

In his mind, the thoughts of the airport, the missing luggage, the mysterious taxi driver, reminded him of something -- it was odd! But, then he remembered that he had done a photo shoot in Oslo recently ... or had he? Was he meeting some American friends at the hostel? But, who did he know from America? And wasn't his career based in Milan? Was he living in a hostel? Didn't he have an apartment that he shared with his friends ... what were there names? He couldn't remember, but figured it was probably fatigue from the show.

He walked into the hostel and the host greeted him. He explained the whole situation with the luggage -- two of his friends had arrived, but he should just wait at the bar. He drained his first beer, still a little lost about why he was spending the night at this hostel. Suddenly, someone shouted out his name.

"Christo!"

He turned to the man, a wave of recognition passing over him. "Antonio!"

They talked about how tonight they were celebrating with friends. First, they needed to drink! Then, they had a surprise for Bruno ... their friend waiting upstairs!