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White Hat

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-20 by grandwagonranchmaker ---

You were staying with your aunt and younger cousins in Texas for the summer. So far your days consisted of running and hiding from your younger (but bigger cuz Texas) cousins to try to study for your college entry exams. Whenever one of them caught you with a book they would relentlessly bully you for trying to be smart and stay in school.

You were taking shelter in the basement one day when you noticed a door, almost invisible under layers of dust, dirt and debris. You figured this might be your golden oppourtunity to escape them. You crack open the door, coughing and wheezing on all the dust thats kicked up and inside find… a bedroom. The room was unnervingly clean and well kept as if it had been used just today. It looked like a typical Texas boy’s room with lots of jeans, belts, sports equipment and a few naughty magazines under the bed. But what you were most drawn to is the white hat laying on the bed like it had been waiting for you.

“What’s this new hat doing here?” You feel compelled to put it on and when you do you slide it around backwards. The hat seems to give a satisfying click as it slides into place and the room begins swaying gently and throwing you off balance. You stumble over to the closet feeling every footfall get heavier and harder. Your small nerdy size 7s expand, to 8s, then 9s, then 10s. They grow with each step causing you to almost fall over with your comically sized proportions. The big toes feel so much more sensitive and cover so much more floor space then youre used to. They continue sizing up to 11, 12 and finally 13 feeling like huge boats chained to your legs!

“What the fuck done happen to my feet” you blurt out. Your legs share the same fate, getting thick as tree trucks and longer to match. You barely slide your nerdy shorts off in time before your buff manly legs can destroy them. But it doesnt stop as your ass expands in your underwear and your dick explodes in size with big Texas balls to match. You’re forced to remove your underwear as well. The only thing in the closet you find is a big pair of boxers and jeans waiting for you. Desperate, you slide them on trying not to enjoy how comfortable they feel. Your big dick floating nicely in the large boxers while still making a reasonable bulge. You feel a need to complete the look and pull out a nice belt, wrapping it around your perfect waist and clicking it together sending another shock of pleasure through your body.

You notice your upper body changing next and strut over to the full body mirror with renewed confidence and excitement. You hasily tear away at your shirt revealing beautiful, full pecs with a dark Texas tan covering them. Your abs are now hard and firm with a darker, thicker treasure trail crawling up them. You eagerly flex, showing off those bulging new biceps and thick patch of musky underarm hair.

“Haha gonna need a bit of Axe bro!” You spray yourself down, inhaling the overwhelming scent. The particles seep into your head, rotting what was left of your nerdy brain. You won’t be worrying about those tests anymore, you can barely spell college. Your hair darkens and shortens, a puff coming out of the front of your hat. Your face arranges to be dumb and innocent looking with cute puppy dog eyes and a dull farmboy grin. As the last of the cloud is absorbed into you, you stomp out of your room, big bare feet slapping the ground and your bulging sweaty upperbody exposed for all to see. Its time to join your brothers for today’s chores before you go into town for some fun!

Magic Mike III: Part 5

“Hello, Mr. Gyllenhaal”

Finally some time to breathe - whilst everyone else was enjoying casting season where they can finally get picked up for other films, Jake Gyllenhaal was just ready to enjoy some time away from the set as pre-production crawled into the focus of everybody’s lives. 

Cast and crew all busying themselves whilst Jake was cast away to some forgotten island off the coast of Hawaii for a holiday.

He had his luggage brought up and continued to listen to the words of the staffer helping him, not even minding how odd it seemed that the man helping him didn’t even look like typical staff. Dressed in a navy blue suit, the staffer stared at him with his hazel eyes as Jake tried his best to pay attention to what was being said.

“Sorry er - what exactly is it that you do?” asked Jake, snapping out of the odd haze momentarily as he began looking the man up and down, taking in his confident demeanour and his striking resemblance to…someone else, another man that he swore was prowling around the studios from time to time on another project.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Gyllenhaal,” said the man, stepping up towards Jake as he leaned in, the mere moments of touch were exhilarating, Jake felt he should’ve backed away but instead let the man close the gap between them. “I’m just a staffer. Why don’t you go outside and relax? And why don’t you leave that shirt of yours behind?”

For a mere moment Jake thought this was odd and would have declined, the last thing he wanted to do was…relax? But then he realised how silly that sounded. After all, he went away on vacation for that very reason. And this man was someone who at least seemed trustworthy. Jake slipped off his shirt. He suddenly found himself somehow, as if being led by an odd voice in his mind, heading outside to relax and was already thankfully dressed for it.

Soon shirtless in shorts, sandals and sunlight, resting back on a deck chair as he continued to just sit there, resting in the heat.

“And how are you feeling, Mr. Gyllenhaal?” came a familiar voice before Jake’s vision was obscured somewhat in darkness, suddenly seeing spirals emerging in front of him as sunglasses were slipped over his head.

“Good,” murmured Jake, nodding as his body automatically began feeling limp and relaxed, starting to slowly fade away from reality and stare at the spirals in sunglasses. As he started to stare and give in, his own body began to change, aligning itself with his muddled mind.

The deeper he drew himself further into his hypnotic state, the further his face started to change. At first shifting only from his own jaw, growing sharper than it already was and with the hair that formed his beard growing darker as his face began to grow longer. His head enlarged slightly with his forehead widening and his hairline started to come down. 

Age began to fade away from Jake’s visage, small wrinkles that once started to appear in were now a distant memory as his ears grew and suddenly the last sane part of his own mind realised that his face shifted to suit the sunglasses, perfectly keeping them in place and no longer drooping down his once smaller nose.

Jake moaned as he felt his eyes adapting to the spirals, his eyes enlarging, focusing further and further as the sunbaked tone of his face began trickling down towards his neck. His own vocal chords deepening before his own bare torso began to cause his body to bulk and sprout, stretching as he grew towards his full height.

As Jake shifted in the seat, still somewhat confused as to what he was experiencing but letting himself bask in the warmth of pleasure and sunlight as he could see his skin almost moving like the waves as if something was underneath causing his muscles to implode his body into the muscularity of a bodybuilder.

His biceps became bulging brawny limbs as the tone travelled down towards his hands, having no choice to grow in order to adjust to the size of his large arms, the knuckles cracking and the fingers flexing as they adjusted in their lengthened and larger state. All the while his own abs pushed out, pulsating as a great ridge began to form betwixt his pecs carving out the beautiful brown pecs that were now on his own chest.

The same kind of ridge formed down at his stomach where he could see his hard earned abs grew even harder as they soon continued to grow and swell one by one, just as his hypnotic commands were telling him to do so.

It was almost as if his mind was able to alter his body and he was loving how it continued to change as his legs parted slightly, relieving himself as his thighs began to thicken. His own shaft broadening as he could feel his own cock against his shorts. The last dregs of himself fuelling the rest of his body as his feet lengthened in his sandals, stretching them to their limit.

“Now, Mr. Gyllenhaal, just relax, I think the others will be here soon and after all this is the perfect place to begin filming. After all, I think this is going to be a fantastic step in your career.”

The man smiled down at the slumping Jake Gyllenhaal, now unrecognisable and the perfect final addition to Magic Mike 3.

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.

Meeting Your Idol: Alex Crockford

For years now, Philip had been a big fan of fitness guru Alex Crockford. Not only did he love to watch the man’s IG workouts, but he also found himself incredibly attracted to the man. His body was incredibly impressive, so along with the tattoo on his left shoulder and his gorgeous face, it was a no-brainer as to why Philip was so drawn to the man. This attraction had only increased when he discovered that Alex lived somewhat close to where Philip resided. So when Alex stated on an Instagram story that he was going to do a free fitness class at Philip’s local gym, you couldn’t believe the excitement he felt about meeting his idol! He wanted to make a great impression so badly that he desired to dress well for the man. However, upon considering the idea, that thought quickly flew out of his head as he thought about working out in his best suit and soaking it in his sweat. 

On the day of the event, Philip was a nervous wreck as he entered the room and gained a spot in the front row of the class. Not only was he going to be super close to his idol, but he was also going to basically be face-to-face to the man’s body. Just the thought of Alex’s body getting caked in his own sweat throughout his intense workout left Philip’s dick quickly trying to showcase itself from inside his black athletic shorts. With such an over-eager dick already trying to make its presence known, Philip was unsure how he was going to be able to keep it together for the whole event.

Upon Alex’s arrival, Philip couldn’t help but let a slight gasp escape from his mouth upon catching the sight of Crockford. Luckily, there were a fair amount of women who gasped as well, so Philip’s high-pitched gasp was able to be properly concealed in secret. “Let’s get to work guys!” Alex said as he quickly turned on some sort of workout mix and began to teach his class. To Philip’s surprise (and relief), as the workout progressed, he found it hard to pop a boner when he was doing such intense training. He knew that Alex tended to do hardcore workouts, but he foolishly thought he would be able to handle it. Not even halfway through it, Philip was growing incredibly overwhelmed and worn out. Hell, he was too tired to even get hard as Alex accidentally bumped into him as he walked past while checking on other members in the class.

Once the class was over, just like Philip, a fair amount of his classmates stayed behind to try and talk to the hunky trainer and his assistant, who was annoyed from being stuck taking photos of them together. Wanting to have some alone time with his fitness idol and crush, Philip stayed in the back of the room as he watched Alex deal with all of the flirtatious women who didn’t care that he was a married man. Sure, Philip could understand the attraction to the man, but he would never openly flirt with someone who was clearly straight and in such a happy relationship.

Letting the last woman walk out, Philip gingerly began to step forward to Alex as he was putting away his remaining gear. “Hey there man, did you enjoy the class today?” Alex asked, which caused the fan to nod his head. “Yeah, I was a big fan of it. It was intense… but it was incredible!” Philip stated, which caused a chuckle to escape from Alex’s mouth. “You’re right, but that intensity is the best way to get jacked right?” he responded, which caused a smile to form on Philip’s face. He couldn’t believe he was really talking with his idol like they were friends.

“So, uh, I just wanted to say that you’re a big inspiration for me!” Philip said, which caused Alex’s head to perk up as the man continued. “Like, I’m still building my body to look like how I envision it, but I’d love to have a body like yours!” Philip said, which caused the trainer to smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I think you’re already off to a great start!” Alex responded, which caused Philip to feel butterflies in his stomach.

“Would you like to take a photo?” Alex asked, which made the eager fan grin and nod his head up and down in approval. Eager about the opportunity, Philip quickly unlocked his phone and handed it to Alex’s assistant as the two men wrapped their arms around each other’s waists and began to pose for a couple photos. After the second photo, Alex suggested they do a pose of them flexing, which Philip quickly agreed to with a big beaming smile. As they each threw up an arm and flexed, the camera flashed a bright white light that completely enveloped the two fit men.

As the light receded and revealed the empty gym room once more, Philip felt strange as he suddenly realized that his right arm was up instead of his left. Looking over to it, his face went into a look of confusion as he was greeted to the sight of a bicep that seemed bigger than usual. To add to his perplexity, his black shirt was now a blue shirt, just like Alex’s…

Turning his head to his left, Philip jumped as he caught sight of his own body still holding up his left arm in a flex. “Hey…” Philip said, poking his body in the shoulder and watching as it suddenly returned from its dazed state. To his surprise, his body didn’t have an equal look of shock manifested across his face upon turning to him. Instead, it was a look of… nervousness and admiration. “Thank you again for taking a photo with me Mr Crockford…” his former body said as he took his cell phone back from the assistant. Scrolling through the camera roll, Philip watched his former body smile and wave goodbye before moving towards the door. He couldn’t believe it, Alex didn’t know that they had swapped bodies! “Hey Philip!” the new Alex called out, which caused the real Alex to stop and look back at him with wide eyes upon the mention of his name.

Standing there looking at his former body, Philip weighed the options of his situation. He could inform the man that he was the real Alex Crockford and they had swapped bodies… or Philip could keep this body and secret for himself. It wouldn’t be a bad life to have, becoming his fitness crush and living a life of wealth with a wife. In fact, that seemed quite better than the alternative he originally had. “Oh uh” Philip said as he made up his mind. “Tag me in those photos when you post them!” he continued, which caused his former body to nod before walking out of the room and into his new life completely oblivious about who he used to be. 

With his assistant asking if he was ready to head home, Philip smiled as he said yes and grabbed his materials. He was unsure of what home was entirely, but he was excited to find out what it was as Alex Crockford. Despite his slight guilt for leaving the real Alex trapped in his former body, Philip’s conscience wasn’t too affected given that the man clearly had no idea. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him…” Philip said under his breath as he took one last selfie before exiting the gym and entering his new life as fitness legend Alex Crockford.

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Red Wave

--- Originally posted on 2023-01-05 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Ethan rushed home as fast as he could, excited to finally be able to play the most popular video game on the market. At $25, Red Wave certainly wasn’t one of the most expensive games out there, but it had still been out of Ethan’s price range when it had dropped a few weeks ago. Since then, the game had blown up all over the internet and had even been promoted in the news. Well, Fox News (they had thought the title “Red Wave” was associated with the prophesied Republican rebound), but still news nonetheless. 

People were obsessed with it, and it was pretty obvious why. Although Ethan hadn’t actually played the game yet, he already knew how it worked. Red Wave was an alternative survival game, one of those campaign-style strategies where the player tries to live as long as possible under growing amounts of enemies. It was paintball, blue versus red. As the game progressed, the player was able to buy upgrades and unlock new parts of the map, but every round a new “red wave” would descend upon them. 

What made the game unique however was that if the player was hit by a red paintball, they could not earn health back. They would be stuck with that health throughout the rest of the game until it was slowly lowered down to 0. Not only that, but Red Wave could only be played once through. Somehow, the company behind the game had been able to put an uninstaller agent deeply rooted inside the game. This meant that once the player died, the game deleted itself permanently from the console’s system and became completely inaccessible. Since Red Wave had launched, nobody had been able to figure out how to reinstall the game back on its original console.

Unlocking his apartment’s front door, Ethan quickly shut it behind him and kicked off his loafers. He then loosened his tie and threw his argyle socks towards the hamper. Usually, Ethan would have been a less careless when he got home, but the 5'7 gaymer was way too excited to dive into Red Wave. Within moments, he had his console booting up and then the game purchased and downloaded. 

While he waited, Ethan strolled to the mirror underneath his pride flag to unbutton his shirt a little, noting that it was a bit tight near the bottom. It seemed like the fast-food lunches he’d recently been treating himself to were taking a toll, the small paunch alerting him that he didn’t have an athlete’s metabolism. Not only that, but the fat gathering up around his cheeks was certainly not to be blamed on by his youth. The curly, black locks paired with the chubby face did make him look boyish however.

“Maybe I should start dieting…” Ethan mumbled as he heard a ding from across the room. Instantly, he rushed over to his chair and grabbed the controller. Red Wave was displayed broadly on the monitor. Flashes of red blotched themselves on the screen, and without hesitating Ethan pressed play. He was then presented with the initial agreement and warning, stating that the player would only be able to engage in the game once and when started would not be able to stop. Besides money, that was also why Ethan had waited so long to play the game–he wanted to see how long he could make it without stopping. With the whole weekend ahead of him, he was sure he’d get himself an impressive, braggable score.

The game was pretty simple at first. Ethan was equipped with a basic paintball gun, and his blue paintballs would knock out the red opponents before they even had a chance to fight back. Ethan was a pretty invested gaymer, but video games were always second to the real world for him. As a founding member of his university’s branch of the Gender-Sexuality Alliance and the president of the Business Casual Club along with the work of his graduate studies, Ethan was almost always focused on reality. However, when he did have time to escape to a virtual world, Ethan would always be found with a controller between his gentle hands. And he had become good at shooter games because of it.

A couple of hours had passed by and Ethan had already unlocked a third of the map, upgraded his paintball gun to fire more rounds at once, and had unlocked a variety of paint bombs. Currently, he was saving up for a bowling ball explosive–a giant blue paintball that would roll down the enemy team and explode after a few seconds. Ethan did notice that each new wave was getting a little more difficult though. The enemies were always a little bit faster, a little bit more competent, and had recently begun spawning themselves in numbers that Ethan couldn’t take out all at once. He wasn’t alarmed however; he still had too many things to unlock and plenty of time left.

When he got hit by a red paintball the first time, Ethan was literally shocked. As in physically shocked. His controller sent out a tiny pulse that sparked across Ethan’s bloodstream, causing him to twitch as the red paint stained itself on his blue player. It was harsh, but Ethan owed it to Red Wave having impressive haptics. In the top left corner of his screen, he watched as his blue health bar lowered just barely. It tainted itself a little too, becoming a darker hue. The concentrated smile that Ethan had been wearing faltered slightly, but in moments he had regained himself and the round was over. He quickly reloaded his gun and moved around the map to purchase some more items.

While Ethan prepared for the next round, he didn’t notice that his body had stretched along his gaming chair. Once at an average height, his torso and legs had elongated after the initial shock that had emitted from his controller. Inch by inch, his bones lengthened and brought flesh and tissue along with it. By the time the round had finished, Ethan would now stand at a well-reaching 6’1. But due to him sitting down, Ethan didn’t register that his head was now almost completely above his gaming chair, or that he was now leaning back slightly in order to give his legs more room.

Ethan continued on, racking up additional points as he became more invested in the game. As time ticked by, Ethan gained stronger power-ups. By four hours in, he was able to run faster across the map, now granting himself access to half of the rooms available. Just a little while later, his paintball gun was upgraded to having two barrels, allowing him to shoot more than one blue-splattering bullet at a time. He gained access to more explosives and traps, and was soon covering the map in different devices to explode any red enemies before they even reached him.

A second shock emitted from his controller after he was hit by a sniper, a new character that had emerged only a few waves earlier. Grunting, Ethan instantly shot back and killed the enemy, yet the damage had already been done. His health bar depleted a little further, shifting into something akin to indigo. Ethan however continued playing, defending himself well against the waves of red that descended upon him. As he did, his legs slowly firmed up underneath his pressed khakis. They grew thinner and more muscular at the same time, gaining strength as they became sharpened from years of running rather than sitting. Ethan’s quads too gained bulk, solidifying as a soft coat of hair descended upon his thighs and calves.

Ethan released a small sigh as he defeated the last enemy, the blue-stained character melting downwards and dissolving into the ground. He quickly did what he had done countless times before: purchased a few traps, stored some more explosives, and browsed across the upgrades he should be saving up for. As soon as he was finished, the round number flashed on the screen and he was back in the game.

The next shock came a little bit quicker than Ethan had thought it would, and a little harder too. It had only been a few rounds since the last hit, but this time he had been caught by a sentry. The robotic cannon had landed its target on Ethan’s blue character before he had had time to react, blasting a red laser right through the player. It took a little bit more health off of him then the other hits had. Ethan blamed this on the game’s length however. The longer the game went on, then probably the harder each “red wave” would hit. The bar in the top left shifted accordingly while also brightening up a tad.

Ethan pushed forward through the round. In his chair, his straight back slowly bubbled along the surface as it filled in with muscle. His shoulders broadened outwards, but as the changes descended lower, his proportions shrunk inwards. Ethan’s growing moobs hardened and pulled back into sturdy pectorals. The expanded stomach he noted earlier imploded into itself, leaving behind defined abs. It suctioned all the way back to the iliac crest to allow for a defined Adonis belt to emerge at the bottom of Ethan’s chest. A dusting of hair also accumulated around his belly button and slowly tread its way downwards.

Ethan made it through another hour before being greeted by a fourth shock from a grenade. Luckily, he hadn’t been hit full-on, but his health did alter into a classic purple. He ran his character away from the scene to protect himself. Ethan then decided to carefully stroll through hallways to eliminate the remaining enemies in smaller groups rather than the wave all at once. Unbeknownst to him, his arms began bulking up underneath his sleeves. Although they were rather average before, they now became a little larger and toned. Nothing too dramatic, but still defined enough to garner a reaction from any stranger when displayed. His forearms also slimmed enough to display veins while a generous helping of fur coated both tops and fluffed out his armpits. Finally, his tender hands became beefy mitts as his fingers grew thick and his palms became calloused.

The next shock came rather quickly, angering Ethan slightly as he noticed he’d missed a simple guard that had spawned near a door. It took him a little longer than he thought it would to take care of the matter, but he did destroy both the guard and the rest of the wave. His health bar had now lightened into a more magenta-like shade. He further upgraded his gun and placed a few more traps, including one specifically in front of the door he’d just been caught at. He’d opened up almost all of the map and had already gotten the majority of the weapons enhancements. Now he just had to save up and survive.

Ethan may have finished the round containing the loathed guard, but not without its consequences. The spark of electricity had coursed its way up its neck, pushing the flesh outwards to make room for expanding vocal chords. His Adam’s apple became more pronounced, dropping his voice a few octaves and erasing any vocal notes of intelligence and character. His jaw was next, the chubbier cheeks sinking in as his bones cracked and restructured into a squarer, more masculine lantern cut. His nose made a gruesome crunch as it popped out and adorned a new previously-broken shape. The ears grew and studded themselves, the brow ridge jutted out a little further, and the forehead became more prominent to give Ethan a macho, yet devolved look. His hair was the last touch, straightening out and diminishing into a regular dark brown as it was pulled back and fluffed outwards at the end, as if it had been trained to permanently cushion a backwards cap.

With less than 10 upgrades yet to purchase and one room yet to unlock, Ethan cursed when he was hit by a barrage of mini shocks from a machine gun. Each shot didn’t take off too much health, but put together they brought the bar in the top left corner into a definite, murkier pink zone. It took Ethan a while to rebound back, but after a grueling back and forth, he eventually eliminated both the gunner and a good portion of the rest of the wave. He retreated back into emptier parts of the map to reuse the same strategy he had successfully conceived earlier: taking down small groups at a time.

Ethan carefully perused each room and hallway, his blue paintballs coating the red enemies before they had even spotted him. While pushing on, his attire and room shifted accordingly. The buttons on his shirt popped off one by one as the fabric was pulled together into something less starchy. The dyes darkened to black and a hood bloomed out of the collar, changing the button-up into a simpler hoodie. His khaki’s were hit next, softening and becoming cuffed at the bottom as they too blackened into ordinary sweats. Underneath, his briefs expanded into faded, well-used checkered boxers, and upon his head arrived the black baseball cap his hair had been anxiously waiting for. 

The changes around Ethan’s room also faced various levels of simplification. His attire became copies of what he was wearing, and the articles themselves were now tossed on the floor and dirty rather than hung in the closet and clean. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a layer of dust and grime laid itself carefully around the apartment, and a bulk supply of pregnancy tests appeared underneath the desk. Behind Ethan, the pride flag above his mirror shifted too. The rainbow stripes faded into a deep navy as bolded, white letters displayed themselves upon the fabric to proclaim a different form of pride.

It had taken Ethan awhile, but he eventually purchased the last of the upgrades for his paintball gun. All he had left was the final room to completely unlock the map. It was extremely expensive, but he assumed it was for a good reason. He didn’t know what happened when he would open that last room (Did it complete the game, or would he have to keep going until he died?), but he assumed it had to be glorious. Ethan would have to play it extra safe however, because before he realized it another sniper had once again hit him and brought his health to a strawberry hue.

Propping his feet up on the desk holding his monitor, Ethan leaned further back into his chair as he dedicated his entire focus to Red Wave. Because of this, he didn’t see his feet slowly bloating upwards and outward even though they were right in front of him. Each tiny, miniscule bone cracked and stretched as his toes plumped out and grew like tiny stalks upwards. His soles plumped as tiny hairs raced across the tops of the growing landscapes. As a cherry on top, a soft, yet potent smell began to emerge from the new wide and heavy Size 13 feet. Yet their larger, cushiony nature was yet to be observed by Ethan who was completely concentrated on unlocking that last room.

After some careful, patient grinding, Ethan had finally earned enough money to expand into the final part of the map. He didn’t know what would come next, or how long he would continue fighting on, but he was ready. He had completely lost track of time, and by now the round numbers were just a blur when they passed by. It had become too bothersome to interpret the Roman numerals, so Ethan had just started to ignore them. Licking his lips anxiously, he finished the current round and instantly ran his character over to the final room. Ethan was feeling less excited and more determined at this point to open the room, the game having transformed into a mission. But he was still excited nonetheless. In seconds, Ethan had the room unlocked and opened the door.

Immediately, the entire monitor flashed red as a nuke went off in his character’s face. The last room had been a trap; it was impossible for any player to continue on at that point. Seconds later, the remaining portion of Ethan’s health bar disappeared, replacing itself with the same red that the enemy team wore. Ethan didn’t mind however. In fact, he didn’t even comprehend what had happened. That final hit had sent another shock like the ones he’d felt before, but this time it had paralyzed him completely. It was almost like Ethan had been paused in time.

At least, mentally paused in time. The shock still brought along its physical effects, this time to Ethan’s pouch. His modest 4 inch softie instantly hardened to its full erect glory, but in moments it was throbbing. It pulsed as if someone was blowing up a balloon, each throb pumping it a little larger until it was an enhanced 8.5 inches. Ethan’s balls experienced a similar inflation, descending with weight as they covered themselves in a wiry forest of pubes. Across the perineum, his butthole shrunk and tightened while his glutes became larger and solidified, no longer serving the purpose they once dutifully fulfilled for previous boyfriends and in nightclub restrooms.

With his character dead, Red Wave finished out what it was intended to do. Just like what had been discussed all over media, the game began to uninstall itself from Ethan’s console and delete any history of its existence. However, unlike what had been discussed all over media (except ironically by Fox News, who for once spoke the truth), Red Wave began to uninstall and delete any history of Ethan’s existence. The game’s true purpose was to enact the long predicted Republican return: transforming every player by the end of the game into a fully-devoted, heterosexual, God-and-gay-fearing conservative. Players were expected to die about midway through the game, but the final room was placed as a fail-safe to ensnare every last participant.

So, as Red Wave destroyed itself and any evidence of its presence, it also deteriorated Ethan’s existence. His personality was dragged down into his churning balls, along with his organized nature, preppy values, and crafty intelligence. His kind, bright attitude was ripped away, leaving room for a more cocky, aggressive being. His views and morals were simplified and tied back to tradition, no longer swayed by the repulsive, modern “progress” of today. Ethan’s homosexuality too was torn away, each piece of his gay identity plucked in order to reveal a shallower, more malevolent shell. Ethan felt each shift go through him like a shock. One moment, he was bisexual, the next a straight ally. But eventually he embraced his final form–a homophobic breeder.

The entire uninstalling process itself seemed like it had taken hours, but it was truly only a few minutes. As Red Wave approached its final seconds on Ethan’s console, his dick began to tremble like a great volcano. Inside his boxers, his two drooping testicles were churning the remains of Ethan, deleting his entirety as it was being prepared for its own uninstallation. Still under the magnetic pause of the game, Ethan’s dull eyes watched as Red Wave’s uninstallation completed, sending forth one final shock. The spark raced across Ethan’s system and instantly triggered his hefty cock to eject the massive load, removing any remnants of his former life and blasting them all across his already-stained boxer shorts.

“Huh wha…” Eric awoke from his sudden stupor. “Ahhh dude...!”

The vocal fry was apparent as Eric took one of his hands off the controller and investigated his sweats, which now had a wet, growing splotch emerging from his pouch. He hated wasting a load when it totally could’ve gone in some chick. In Eric’s eyes, nutting alone was basically a crime against his babymaker.

Although his crotch was sticky and would later become stained, Eric didn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t some faggy liberal after all–he was a real man who did real manly things. If he had a massive dick and was constantly pumping stomachs, then he had a right to show that off. He wasn’t gonna let some blue-lovin’, cock-suckin’, atheist freak take away his rights! 

And Eric knew he would always win in the battle of red versus blue. Faggots were always lining up to do anything for their superiors. They’d pay him tons of cash for a used sock. Clean the apartment thoroughly before some bimbo came over to be filled that night just to get the privilege of massaging his massive feet for a half an hour. Plus, Eric had now realized that if he led them on enough, they’d go to the polls and vote red, even if the candidate was campaigning to remove gay rights. Despite having just blown a load seconds earlier, his girthy dick was responding to the thought of knowing how many fags were waiting to serve him.

“Gotta find some slut to dump this all into,” Eric huffed as he adjusted his package. The thought of bouncing tits and wet pussy only riled him further, but with the console already booted up he decided to play a few rounds of some shooter game first. Before he did however, he noticed his juicy feet propped up in front of his monitor, uncared for and needing attention. With his sticky hand, he snatched his phone and texted one of his go-to fairies. Instantly, the boy replied back and said he was on his way to service him. Content, Eric tossed the phone onto his unmade bed and opened up a game while he waited for the fag. The Red Wave was coming, whether the libs wanted to admit it or not. 

3TH93USA

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-09 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Encouraged and spurred on by @mrrharper

The building in front of Nathan was nothing more than a gray warehouse. It was absolutely massive, stretching to either end of the block. Nathan had no idea how far back it went, and with no windows he had no concept of floors either. Nathan considered that it may have been a poor idea to apply after all. The job had been looking for candidates with highly flexible hours and at least 10 years of experience. But Nathan, a desperately-underfunded college student in his final year, was badly in need of some quick cash. Holding his head high, he strolled towards the building's entrance.

Nathan had received a notice of a job opportunity through his email. At first, he had assumed it was some kind of spam, but after reading a bit more discovered it was indeed a legit company. Falcon Security, somewhere Nathan would have never placed himself to be applying for, had not only sent a rather dull email, but had a dull interior. Everything with this company was informative and straightforward, apparently details and color did not matter.

In the open, almost liminal space, Nathan felt as if a spotlight were on him. He had not dressed too flamboyantly, a floral-patterned dress shirt with blue slacks. But he definitely felt out of place in such a starkly-monotone place. Not only that, but he knew he did not fit in. Just under six foot, red hair with freckles, lanky enough to be considered paper-thin, Nathan had to remind himself this job was not based on looks. Falcon Security meant IT, and all he had to say was he looked younger than his actual age. In a few months, he could be gone, the company nothing more than a blip on his resume.

The orientation process was a lot easier than Nathan had expected. After navigating through a few empty halls, he eventually found himself in a large room with a plethora of other men. None of them matched each other, all presumably in desperate situations like Nathan. After a bit of waiting, the presentation began on the huge screen projected opposite of the door.

It was nothing Nathan had not seen before, a male AI voice narrating the company’s background and history. When they began listing some of the more famous companies Falcon Security had aided in the past, Nathan was surprised at how many he recognized. Many names were politically-affiliated, all right-leaning but nothing concerning Nathan. Business was business, and he would be working IT anyway, so he would not inherently be supporting anything he stood against. The one anti-LGBT organization startled him a bit, although he did not show it. As a gay man, he would simply avoid any tasks related to that client. Money had influenced his standards a lot, but not to the point of changing his morals.

Once the presentation had finished, all the men received a text to their personal devices for their next station. Nathan pulled out his phone and after looking around, began to follow the other men out of the room. They herded down the hallway, passing by the different facilities available in the building. A cafeteria, restrooms, a huge gym with a few people the size of bodybuilders already hard at work. Nathan was beginning to think this was some kind of complex. Once they ventured past the sleeping quarters with bunk beds galore, questions formed as to how hard the company would be working him.

Eventually, each of the men began diverging off into different directions, finding their corresponding rooms. Nathan tried to remain optimistic of the situation, following along the instructions from his phone. Third floor, hallway T, room H93. It took a little strength to open the door, Nathan assumed it had to have been made of some metal. He entered his room and heard the door click shut behind him. Room H93 was small, with nothing in it but a chair facing away from the exit. Once Nathan took a seat, the projector lit up.

“Welcome to Falcon Security,” the male AI voice announced. “The following education supplement is broken into three segments.”

Nathan peered around the room once more, finding it strange as to why he was separated from the other men for this portion of the orientation.

“Cerebral Manipulation activated, engaging Cleanse.”

Suddenly, Nathan was bombarded with a combination of blinding visuals and piercing audios. The projector was strobing violently, quickly flashing colors back and forth and scorching his eyes. The speakers out of Nathan's sight were blasting discordant notes, the high pitches scrambling his neurological pathways. He immediately shut his eyes and went to cover his ears, trying to tune it all out, but the damage had already been instituted. Overwhelmed by the stimuli, his brain carried out the emergency function, shutting itself off completely. Nathan’s hands dropped to his sides as his mouth hung open, staring lifelessly at the paralyzing screen before him.

“Cleanse complete, Cerebral Manipulation disengaged.”

Nathan made no movement as multiple ceiling tiles lifted up, revealing vents. He continued to stare ahead, no thought forming in his emptied mind.

“Physical Manipulation activated, engaging Vapor.”

Slowly, a hiss began to sound out from the vents opened within the ceiling. A reddish gas softly descended from the ceiling, filling up Nathan’s room in a minute. Before long the air had completely left the room, leaving Nathan’s mindless husk to breathe in the pure red fumes.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics,” the AI rattled off. Through the red haze, the projector booted up a loading screen with an array of fields.

HEIGHT - 75 Units

WEIGHT - 200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 12%

MUSCULATURE - 85%

FEET - 13 Units

PHALLUS - 9 Units

LIBIDO - 80%

HAIR (B) - 67%

HAIR (C) - 1B0C05

EYE (C) - 200C05

Although Nathan could not recognize it, these inputs were standardized by the company.

“Vapor engaged, activating Reactor.”

A relaxer began to escape, mixing thoroughly with the red fumes already present in the room. Carefully slinking down, it eventually slithered up Nathan’s nostrils and tickled his brain. Triggered, Nathan began taking larger, deeper breaths, thoroughly absorbing the red gas.

The effects of the vapor rapidly assimilated into Nathan’s system. His bones began to crack, his tendons and ligaments shifting and expanding. The edges of his tight outfit grew taut, threatening to rip before a laser quickly scanned the room, erasing every article of clothing. Now naked, Nathan’s body was free to grow in any direction it needed. And it did, stretching out across the chair as Nathan evolved. With each filtrating breath, Nathan pumped himself larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’3.

Nathan's muscles continued to bloat as the vapor was continually absorbed into his systems. His once lanky body was broadening: longer legs, longer torso, longer shoulders. His calves and upper arms swelled with power, thickening and plumping with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, now along with his new eight abdominals bolstering immense durability. Nathan’s backside curved outwards, better filling in his seat while his hardware up front enlarged into a thick 9 inches. Although not in a conscious state, Nathan separated his legs to accommodate for his new, massive bundle, his toes inching forward as his feet puffed out into a sturdy Size 13.

Nathan’s head arched back to allow the remainder of red gas to be consumed. His neck distended to accommodate for the emerging Adam’s apple, his vocal chords thickening to create a deeper tone. His jaw and cheekbones jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow. In a flash, Nathan’s roots and eyes darkened into a steep brown, tainting his hair as it pulled into a tight crew cut. The rest of his body adapted accordingly, his skin tone tanning slightly before being washed over with dark hair through the pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and throughout his arms and legs.

The last of the red fumes disappeared down Nathan’s nasal passages, coating his more masculine jaw with a well-maintained beard. The AI voice confirmed this completion.

“Vapor installed, engaging Auxiliary Supplements: 3TH93USA.”

AGE - 29 Units

When Nathan had applied, he had not met the company’s standards of employment. This forced Falcon Security to take the necessary action of moving him to meet the minimum experience requirement. A small tube appeared from one of the open vents directly above Nathan. With his head in position and mouth lazily ajar, the pipe distributed seven blue drops directly down Nathan’s throat. He did not have to swallow, the liquid absorbing on impact.

After a moment, the aging began to show. Nathan’s muscles stiffened slightly, toughening after more years of constant conditioning. His body odor grew denser, his voice gruffer. His libido remained the same, but now served a different purpose. It had matured into a machine for fertilization, built for a purpose rather than for pleasure. As the tiniest beginnings of frown lines formed, the process moved forward.

“Auxiliary Supplements complete, Cerebral Manipulation reactivated, downloading Cognition.”

The ceiling tiles lowered, the vents closing as the screen booted up with new diagnostics.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics.”

CEREBRAL CAPACITY - 20%

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 73 Units

SUBORDINATION - 95%

AGGRESSION - 90%

INTERPRETATION - 15%

INDEPENDENT ANALYSIS - 10%

Uploading SECURITY package…

Uploading SELF-MAINTENANCE package…

Installing CODE RED

“Download complete, engaging Cognition.”

Once again, the room was filled with the blaring visual and audio combination. Because Nathan’s brain had already been turned off, the repetition now triggered the opposite effect. Soon, Nathan’s mind reanimated, becoming coherent to his surroundings. His former self had been deleted, leaving an open canvas ready to become something completely new. Before Nathan could become cognizant and recolor his gray matter, the program instituted new effects.

Delicately, the strobing lights and screeching notes were honed into the background. New media quickly infiltrated the pattern. Flashes of words and phrases flashed the screen, branding Nathan’s mind. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men burst through Nathan’s retinas, establishing only one precedent. Mixed in were scattered opinion pieces to erect the bare minimum of personality features. Pictures of conservative leaders, Christian motifs, and clips of straight sex, enough to align with the company’s agenda.

“The company is always right,” “The clients are always right.” A male narrator had begun instructing different phrases into the room. His words crawled into the open crevice of Nathan’s shrunken brain, filling up the emptied space. “Every guard is completely loyal to the company,” “The company never makes mistakes.” Every instruction repeated over and over, accompanied by the images of Falcon Security and their work.

Nathan had been wrong to assume the Falcon Security had been an information technology firm. The company was actually a high-tech, military-grade safeguard who prided themselves with muscles promising complete protection, surveillance, and performative obedience. When they had discovered their investors in conservative businesses, they tailored their focus a bit more, pledging their guards would not only work for them, but vote for them too. Focus groups and trial operations provided them with the perfect formula for their clients.

In an instant, the program went into overdrive. The male AI returned, drilling “Ejaculate, Ejaculate, Ejaculate,” over and over. The stimulation exploded Nathan’s brain with ecstasy, his cock rising directly up and pulsing with excitement. The images on the screen ran twice as fast, the audio tracks looping quicker. With a manly grunt, Nathan howled as his swollen weapon blasted the remnants of his former will across the room. The laser from before returned, erasing the ejaculation and covering up the newly transformed guard in the company’s in house uniform: black sweats and a black cap

Blinking, 3TH93USA stood up as the door to the room opened behind him. He marched out of his room, the other new guards like fraternal clones of him doing likewise. They all filed down to the halls back to where they had come from. Some steered off into the cafeteria, others navigated to the sleeping quarters. 3TH93USA was one of the few who arrived in the gym, beginning his workout immediately as instructed. Security was his function, and if he was not doing that, then 3TH93USA was either eating, maintaining, or sleeping.

3TH93USA began his pull up routine as a few men in suits walked by, looking in on the gym.

“One needs a soldier, completely obedient and always following orders,” one of the businessmen stated. “Each of our men are customizable, programmable to any of your needs. Their only purpose is to be a security guard.”

They watched on as 3TH93USA continued his workout, no other objective in his mind.

Born to be a father

--- Originally posted on 2024-07-10 by breedertfs ---

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

I'm a gay man in my early 20's. I know I'm young but I keep having these thoughts.....or this desperate need to be a father. I don't understand where it's coming from.

That's your body telling you how things are gonna be now, bro. This is your new normal.

It's in your muscle memory - even if you claim to have never wanted to be a breeder before now. This urge to spread your seed has been lying dormant in your DNA, just waiting for your desires to waken inside your throbbing cock and for the hunger for wet pussy to cloud your rational mind. Don't you love the way I talk about women and their bodies? The way the men in my stories just can't help but to suck on a pair of fat, bouncing tits? How their thick, slobby tongues want nothing more than to slide between some wet, slick pussy lips?

Imagine the squelch, the squirt, the sound of her high pitched moaning. The way her eyelids will flutter when you unleash your hot, thick load inside her.

You're rock hard, bro. Don't deny it. Your hips buck with pleasure, your package feels so fat and hot, your wide cock head rubbing the fabric of your underwear with each needy thrust you make. The young gay man who made his home inside your mind finds himself surrounded by a sudden harem of hot women, blondes and redheads and brunettes, all with their huge breasts exposed and their greedy fingers between their juicy thighs. This makes you moan in the outside world, your boner raging as you continue to gyrate, your work pants growing taut around your much stronger, hairier legs.

"Yeah, you like that, bitch?" an unfamiliar voice speaks from your lips, bristles of dark hair framing your strengthening jaw. Your hands grow larger and callused, reaching out in front of you and gripping around the waist of an imaginary slut. Your eyes turn dark and brooding, your once youthful face growing older and more grizzled. The strange voice continues to deepen and shift as you moan, your arms growing thick with muscle as your larger fingers pretend to reach towards a pair of jiggling tits. You swear you've never touched a set of breasts before, but your new body can conjure the feeling so easily, as if you were just squeezing a pair the very night before. Perky nipples under your fingertips, jiggling flesh in your palms. It's so natural. "Fuck. Tell Daddy what a needy whore you are."

Your once trendy hair pulls back into your scalp and darkens, becoming a close cropped masculine hairstyle. Your work clothes become more professional, colorful pastel shirt becoming a simple short sleeved blue button up, your khakis fading into simple denim. You're a straight man, after all. You don't feel the need to dress up or stand out. You just feel the need to push your cock into a wide open cunt, to feel the pussy juice accepting your shaft and allowing your nine inches to slide right in. Your nuts swell inside your underwear, full of virile seed that desperately wants to be fired into a waiting womb. You moan again, drool sliding down your stubbled chin, your expression taken over by primal lust.

The former you is still trapped inside his mind, staring at the group of women that have him cornered. To his horror, he watches as the moaning bimbos begin to cry out louder, reaching their soft hands up to grab their breasts as each of their tits begin to swell with milk. The old you watches in horror and amazement, all these big boobed beauties suddenly taking it to a new level, but your awe settles into shocked terror as suddenly all of the women begin to reach down to their stomachs, which begin to rapidly inflate as pussy juice squirts and runs down their trembling legs. In a matter of seconds, your fading former self is trapped with a harem of pregnant women. Everywhere you look is a wet cunt, a fat tit dribbling milk, a pair of kissable lips sighing a moan.

The old you doesn't stand a chance inside the mind of a breeder. He begins to shake, his image blurring and beginning to fade, all of his youth and former goals burning away to make room for the superior man who has made your body his home. Inside and out. This is you. The women in your mind are just memories of former and future conquests alike, an endless sea of women that will swell with your seed and raise your children. Nothing turns you on more than this. You have found your purpose in life.

And there's no shame in that. You want to be a father because you were quite literally born to be a father. And now, my dear friend, your new body is going to make sure you have no choice but to be fruitful and multiply.

Better clock in those hours at your new office job. You're gonna have a lot of hungry mouths to feed - and no shortage of women to impregnate.

Roommate Needed Six

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

After a few cold days to remind us it was October, the sun decided to come out one last time. It seemed that everyone on campus was making the most of the nice weather. Many were wearing shorts , probably for the last time and schoolwork was the last thing on everyone's mind. As I walked back from class, I noticed a group of five guys playing basketball at the public court. A muscular blonde with red and white shorts went for a long shot. The ball bounced of the rim towards the sidewalk and road. I stopped the ball from rolling into the street and picked up.

"Thanks man," said the blonde as he trotted towards me, sweat glistening down on his shirtless chest.

"Hey Luke," called one of his teammates. "Ask him if he wants to join in. Three on three."

"That's okay," I said as I offered him the ball. "I haven't played in years."

"You sure," said Luke as he grabbed the ball. He looked me straight in the eye and added, "I mean, it's such a nice day and all."

At that moment something stirred inside me. These guys seemed nice enough. None of my friends played any sports and I had always liked basketball in high school.

"What the heck," I answered, following Luke back to the court.

"All right! Thanks dude!" said one of the guys. "I'm Dave. You gonna go shirts or skins?"

"Shirts ... for now," I responded, feeling a little bit awkward. These guys were clearly gym buffs and I was far from it. Everyone on the team introduced themselves. I would be on the shirts team with Dave and Chris, against Joey, Luke, and Sean. We were evenly matched, except I was clearly the smallest guy.

The game began slowly, but as soon as I was given the ball, I felt a new sense of confidence in me. I dribbled past Sean and sunk a short jump shot. When I landed I felt stronger and faster.

"Nice shot," said Dave.

After a few more minutes of playing, I was starting to get into a groove, like I was in perfect form physically. Our team was beginning to pull ahead.

"Water break," said Joey.

The sweat had begun to run down my shirt, so I pulled it off. Underneath, I was surprised to see that I had no tan lines. I never went shirtless, so I was very pale, but today, I had a perfect tan. My body has also grown larger and thicker. My chest was thick with muscle and my abs were well defined. I used my shirt to wipe down the sweat.

"Alright, so how about you go over to skins, because we'd kill them otherwise. Just trade with Luke," said Dave.

"Cool by me, bro," I said, giving him a high five, surprised for three reasons. 1) I never used the word "bro" or gave high fives, 2) I hardly knew these people, and 3) I was completely relaxed being part of this team, like I had played with them for months.

We played for another hour, trading teams and just messing around. I had a couple nice dunks, since I was the tallest and biggest player. We gave each other high fives, fist bumps, and made crude jokes. By the end of the game, they had all taken to calling me Brett. Which as far as I could remember was my name. When we left the court to walk home, I had completely forgotten my life before basketball and these bros of mine.

An Exciting Life

Jason moved to New York with the hopes of making his life more exciting. The hipster had always regretted how much time he spent alone. While his peers were out partying, Jason was always studying or quietly listening to music in his bedroom. Jason thought that all of this would change when he moved to the Big Apple.

“My life will be nothing but bars, partying and strip clubs” he always said to himself

However, after two months in his Brooklyn apartment, Jason was just as lonely as before. He didn’t have friends to party with or bros to go to strip clubs and gawk at all the scantily clad women with. He was lonely.

Jason stepped out onto the fire escape. He gazed out onto the New York skyline and sighed.

“I wish my life was more exciting. Just partying, getting laid and going to strip clubs”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jason began to feel faint. Jason quickly entered his apartment only to faint, hitting his head on his apartment floor.

When Jason woke up, he was shocked. He opened his eyes to see that he was no longer in his apartment. No longer was he in his cozy home. He was sitting in a comfy chair with a young man sitting next to him. He was in... a club? A strip club? Jason looked around to see the bright neon lights illuminating the room. There were stripper poles dispersed throughout the club and a big stage for the strippers to suggestively dance on. There were men sitting with stacks of $1 bills in their hands patiently waiting for the hot babes to come out onto the stage.

“Hey Jason, you okay?” the man sitting next to me laughed and punched Jason’s shoulder. “You look surprised, buddy”

The man looked like every stereotypical jock. He was handsome. Muscular. And didn’t look too smart. Jason wasn’t gay but even he could see the jock was attractive.

Jason began to get excited. Was his wish granted? Was his life of banging babes and going to strip clubs about to begin? Jason felt like the luckiest person in the world.

“Dude, it’s showtime. Come on” Jason’s new friend said as he jumped up from his seat.

Jason didn’t know where the jock was going. But before Jason had time to think, the man pulled Jason up from his chair and walked off. Jason’s body began to follow the jock against his will.

“Where are we going? I’m confused”

Jason’s new friend continued to walk backstage with Jason. The two eventually reached a secluded room backstage. The jock shut the door behind them.

“Who are you?” Jason asked suspiciously.

“Jason, you know who I am” the man laughed condescendingly. “I’m your coworker. We’re best friends, remember”

New memories began to flood Jason’s mind. Memories of his coworker, Danny, filled his mind. They were best friends. They spent every living moment together. They partied. They banged babes together. They watched football together. They loved to spend time in clubs, especially strip clubs.

“Sorry Danny. I don’t know how I forgot. I’ve been having a weird day. I could never forget about you” Jason smiled at Danny.

“It’s okay, you big dummy. Now let’s do some warmups” Danny began stripping until he was left in nothing but underwear. He made eye contact with Jason. Danny was towering over him. Jason was intimidated by the sheer size of the jock.

“What’re you doing, brah? Warm up and shake that famous bubble butt of yours, bro”

SHAKE. BUBBLE BUTT. The words rang out in Jason’s mind. Almost like he was under Danny’s complete control. Danny unwillingly got on the ground. He spread his legs and began shaking his flat ass. Suddenly, a pleasurable heat began to fill Jason’s ass checks. The heat inflated his cheeks filling them with fat. His ass became big and round. The more Jason twerked the fatter and juicier his ass got. It got so big and round that his ass jiggled like two full waterballoons. Jason moaned and smiled as the pleasure of shaking his juicy melons became too much for him.

“That’s a good, boy. Now strip. Get ready to show off those big muscles”

STRIP. MUSCLES. The hot pleasure filled Jason’s body, focusing on his muscles. Especially his chest. The hot pleasure caused his skinny body to grow. He became big and muscular. His arms the size of footballs. His legs like sturdy tree trunks. His pecs becoming big and round. They became big and soft. Jason couldn’t help but rub his big muscles. It felt so good. It felt so... erotic.

“Attaboy. Show off them big muscles. Damn bro, you’re such an exhibitionist”

SHOW OFF. EXHIBITIONIST. Jason lost all rational thought. Following the commands of Danny just made Jason feel so good. He couldn’t help but just do anything his coworker told him to. Jason wanted to feel good. He wanted to show off. He wanted women to just gawk at him. Admire his godly body. Jason flexed and let out a cocky grin.



“Damn bro. I’m surprised you’re able to understand me so well. I mean, you are Mexican, right? I’m pretty sure you speak little to no English. You can only speak Spanish. Isn’t that right Miguel?”

Jason began to get worried. He had mostly been okay with the changes Danny had been making to him. Big muscles and a cocky attitude were things Jason never had. He secretly loved being huge. Jason did hate how big and juicy his ass looked. But his new big muscular body definitely made up for it.

But this was too far. Jason‘s English thoughts began to dissipate, being replaced by Spanish. His memories began to change. No longer did he remember being raised in Seattle. He remembered growing up in Mexico. He remembered being bullied for his big fat juicy ass in school.

“¿Qué? ¡Soy americana! ¡¿Que me esta pasando?!” Jason was shocked by the words that left his mouth.

“Damn, you really don’t speak any English. But you don’t need English for this job. You just need to look sexy. And you are a very sexy gay Mexican himbo, aren’t you... Miguel?” Danny grinned deviously.

GAY. MEXICAN. HIMBO. Jason... or Miguel’s appearance began to change. His hair becoming long and black. A thick luscious beard began to form. His eyes becoming dark brown. His skin darkening. Miguel’s appearance began to reflect his Mexican heritage. His entire body became Mexican. His average 5 inch white cock shot forward becoming a thick 12 inch Mexican cock. There was no trace of Miguel ever being a skinny, white hipster. He had always been a big sexy Mexican himbo.

The words GAY HIMBO rang out in Miguel’s head. Miguel’s ivy league college education began to drain out of his head. His thoughts began to turn in drool. Miguel stared blankly at Danny as his thoughts, ambition and old personality leaked out of his mouth, dribbling onto the floor. His mouth was forever stuck hanging open. His jaw so relaxed. So relaxed it would just let his drool leak right out of his mouth. His face looked so dumb. So vacant.

Miguel’s sexuality began to shift. Thoughts of cock and getting his new bouncy ass stuffed full of cum filled his mind. He loved cock. He needed cock. Miguel didn’t care about women anymore. He only wanted men to see his body. He wanted to show off his body to men. It felt so natural to show off to men. It felt so... right. Like his entire purpose in life was to show off his big bouncy ass to the horny daddies in the crowd.

“Soy un marica estupido” Jason dumbly giggled as drool dribbled from his hanging mouth.

“Alright, bud. You ready to do your job and strip?” Danny smirked.

“Sí, papi” Miguel drooled and let out a dumb vacant chuckle.

Miguel confidently strode out onto the stage and began his new life as a dumb Mexican stripper. No longer would he have to worry about being smart or even being able to form a coherent sentence. All he had to focus on was being sexy and enticing all the sexy gay men in the crowd.

Jason was now nothing more than a fat assed, dumb, Mexican stripper. But Jason got what he wanted. His life is exciting now. He is forever stuck as a dumb horny stripper dancing and gyrating his body for the men in the crowd. Jason wanted to be in a strip club and now he is forever bound to one.

That’s a good dumb himbo. Strip for daddy.



--- 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.