Then There Was One

One of my all-time favorites!

Career Day

“Hey bro, do you think you have what it takes to be a firefighter?”

You stop dead in your tracks. Next to the rows and rows of folding tables set up for career day is a big red fire truck. But instead of free pens and buttons to entice you in, three half-naked firefighters stand laughing, rubbing their thick muscles through their loose handing fireproof jackets.

This has to be some sort of joke, you think to yourself with a scoff. One of the meat heads approaches you with a hunky swagger. “So,” he asks again, “you think you have what it takes?”

It’s been a pretty boring day overall, so you decide to have some fun. “Alright,” you say with a sarcastic smile, “tell me: what does it ‘take’ to be a firefighter?”

“Well,” the guy says, “first, you’ve got to be jacked. Like… really jacked.” As he says this, you begin to feel your clothes grow itchy, like they don’t seem to fit quite right.

“Yeah,” you say trying to keep an air of confidence, “and what else?”

“Well,” he continues, “you’ve gotta have tough skin. Tough enough to withstand serious heat.” The itching is insatiable now, and you look down to see a rough callous develop over your hands, which are now bulging with muscle. You frantically look around the room, but no one else seems to be noticing the muscles now begging to escape from your tight clothes.

“You’ve got to have a lot of upper body strength,” he says before you can stop him, and suddenly your arms grow sore, biceps the size of baby heads bursting at the seams of your shirt. “And good legs…” he says, sending your thighs tearing through your jeans. “Not to mention a good core.” And with that, your chest expands into two square pecs and a rack of abs directly below.

“Is that it??” you plead with him, struggling to contain your new body as it continues to grow per his suggestions.

“Not yet,” the guy continues, “you’ve also got to know a thing or two about firefighting. Not much else though, you don’t want your brain getting too crammed if you know what I mean.” You try and resist the overwhelming feeling of numbness that envelops your mind. You feel memories of training and lifting with your fighter fighter bros begin to replace those of your friends, family, and education.

You, moan, trying to resist as a new feeling overtakes your body. “No… please…”

“Oh yeah! And one last thing. You’ve gotta be pretty hung. It can get pretty boring at the station with nothing to do. Some of us like to fool around a little bit. Wouldn’t hurt to have a 9 inch dick.”

You know it’s coming this time. The testosterone, the heat flooding your pelvic region. You look down just in time to see a full, 9 inch penis burst forth from your briefs and unleash a wave of cum all over the floor. With it escapes all your knowledge of your past life; you’re nothing more than one of those meathead firefighters now, nothing else on your mind by saving lives and sucking dick.

“Here,” says the guy as he leads you over back to the truck and away from the crowds, “lets get you into something more comfortable shall we?”

You nod stupidly, eagerly awaiting the minute you can get him into bed with your thick new cock, both your muscle bodies rubbing sweaty together for hours. As he slips you into your firefighter’s coat, you know you’ve chosen the right career. Even if it wasn’t exactly your choice…

Hi, i was hoping my Touristics trip would take me to Greece?

Well of course we can arrange a journey to Greece, we even have multiple packages to book. Looking at you I think you would it would be good for you to book our Mt. Olympus package. Climb the mountain of gods if you like or drive to the coast, it’s only about 5 minutes by car. But that would be up to you. Oh you would like to climb the mountain first. We can arrange that. 

As you leave my shop, you find yourself on an uncommon street. It isn’t the same you entered the shop through, but you aren’t bothered at all, it feels just right to be here. You wander around and finally a man speaks to you. He is cute, a twink and reveals to have a soft almost feminine voice as he speaks to you: “I have searched for you, you are the tourist the man at Terrence & Ford told me about, aren’t you?” You confirm this and the man leads you down a few roads and then you are able to see your destination, Mt. Olympus.

The little man shows to possess a whole lot of endurance as you climb the mighty peak. Just as he struggles with a particularly high stone you notice his butt, it’s really big from what you see through his pants, and it looks really round and firm. “But wasn’t I supposed to be straight.”, you think as you scratch your head, only the noticing how big your biceps are. You look at them in awe, totally entranced by he twitching of the mighty flexed peaks and the criss-crossing veins running along them. 

Carefully you approach the still struggling mountaineer, grab his ass and help him shove him further up allowing him to climb the rock. Then you reach out and pull yourself up in one fluent motion, earning awestruck gazes from your companion. “Man, it must be nice being this tall.”, he squeaked looking up at your chiseled bearded face.

“Fuck I can’ take it anymore.”, you exclaim in a powerful baritone and pull the man upwards, planting a sensual kiss on his lips, as you rip his pants away, as well as yours. About 10 minutes later you find yourself behind a corner, rapidly jackhammering your new godly cock deep into your companion’s big ass. Another 30 minutes and more than a few loads later you descend down the mountain again.

Though you didn’t reach the peak fully, you still gotta show the mortals on the beach what a true Olympian looks like.

TheBurdenBorne Archive

Hi all! Thanks to efforts by @masterwolftfs I have managed to recover even more of TheBurdenBorne's (DeviantArt) old stories!

Below will be a huge index compiled by @imsrtman of most of the titles of TheBurdenBorne's written works.

What I have already posted on Tumblr will clickable on the list.

Similarly, anything marked with an asterisk means that I have a copy of it and will post it soon. I also have some stories that I'm not sure what the title is of so I'll need help with that as well.

As for the remaining entries on the list:

Please send me a DM if you have any of the stories that are not marked or posted yet! I

It does not matter if you only have say part 4 or part 2. If everyone contributes parts here and there we can recover most of it!

(All the stories are sorted from A-Z ascending)

Uncategorized:

Dog Tags

Hypnotizing Young Bro

Jock boy is hypnotized

Man's Best Friend

Missing Dick

Sculpted

Tailgating

Trash

Series: Black Power

Black Power Ch. 1

Black Power Ch. 2

Series: College Camp

College Camp Part I

College Camp Part II

College Camp Part III

College Camp Part IV

Series: Dancing Bears

Dancing Bears No 1

Dancing Bears No 2

Dancing Bears No 3

Series: Daydream Age

Daydream Age 13

Daydream Age 23

Daydream Age 33

Daydream Age 43

Daydream Age 43

Series: Enrollment Week

Enrollment Week 1 (Garrett-POV)

Enrollment Week 2 (Garrett-POV

Enrollment Week 3 (Garrett-POV)

Enrollment Week 4 (Louis-POV)

Enrollment Week 5 (Carl POV)

Enrollment Week 6 (Wesley POV)

Series: Extra Curricular

Extra Curricular: Filmmaking

Extra Curricular: Metals

Extra Curricular: Woods

Series: For Him

For Him Part One

For Him Part Two

For Him Part Three

For Him Part Four

For Him Part Five

Series: Manual Labor

Manual Labor Client One

Manual Labor Client Two

Manual Labor Client Three*

Manual Labor Client Four

Series: One Fad Fits All

One Fad Fits All: Biker Chic

One Fad Fits All: Bodyguard

One Fad Fits All: Cowboy Up*

One Fad Fits All: Lumbersexual

One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys

Series: Ostello della moda

Ostello della moda: Antonio

Ostello della moda: Bruno*

Ostello della moda: Christofano

Ostello della moda: Diego*

Ostello della moda: Eduardo*

Series: Pokémon Go Team Green

Pokémon Go Team Green: Battle

Pokémon Go Team Green: Captured

Pokémon Go Team Green: Hatched

Pokémon Go Team Green: Traded

Series: Primal Instincts

Primal Instincts: A Bit Overbearing

Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs*

Primal Instincts: Monkey Around

Series: Product Placement

Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer*

Product Placement: Free trial Attraktion Kondom

Product Placement: Free wax and hair removal*

Product Placement: Subway sleeper*

Product Placement: Wet Dreams*

Series: Roommate Needed

Roommate Needed One*

Roommate Needed Two

Roommate Needed Three

Roommate Needed Four

Roommate Needed Five

Roommate Needed Six

Roommate Needed Seven

Series: Selfie Seduction

Selfie Seduction Interlude

Selfie Seduction Part 1

Selfie Seduction Part 2

Selfie Seduction Part 3

Selfie Seduction Finale

Series: The Collector

The Collector Part 1: Auction

The Collector Part 2: Acquisition

The Collector Part 3: Audition

The Collector Part 4: Abduction

Series: The Modern Man:

The Modern Man-Step 1

The Modern Man-Step 2

The Modern Man-Step 3

The Modern Man-Step 4

The Modern Man-Step 5

The Modern Man-Step 6

Admirable Confidence

--- Originally posted on 2020-05-01 by makingrealalphas ---

You just entered the subway and this handsome boy already staring at you with that smirk. You are literally the only one in this cart so his intense staring give you all sorts of feeling. And fuck, look at that damn bulge in his jeans, he is packing! As a bi with a girlfriend, this boy definitely can make you look the other way. But you are faithful to your current girl and you’re going for a quick lunch with her before the office hours start again.

Even when the train already start its move to the next station, he keeps looking at you intently. You feel itchy and uneasy with his stare as you scratch your legs. The dress pants feel a little bit tighter than usual but you let it go.

He bites his lip, he smirks and he literally checking you out. When you are uneasy, you do things with your hair so you tried to look away and fix your hair. Your facial feature hardened as you look away, cheekbone pronounced and your eyebrow becomes thicker. Your caffeine-stained, imperfect teeth turned into pearly straight white as your jawline become defined. As your finger moved through your strand of brunette hair, it turned darker and gelled and eventually become jet black, your eyebrow and pit hair followed suit. You then spread your leg a little wider, your jeans so tight hugging your toned legs and ass it makes you uncomfortable, fuck this whole cart is empty so why the fuck you’re so modest and shut your leg? You’re a man, a man with a fucking big dick so why bother shut your leg when you can spread it out wide to give your little guy a breather? As your legs spread, you also extend your arm which become tanner and also veiny, now visible as your long-sleeved sweater replaced with a collared short sleeved shirt. You then look at the handsome boy in front of you

“What you lookin’ at?” You said aggresively

He just smiled and replied casually

“Nothing bro, just admiring your confidence. I’ll definitely pop those button too like you if I get abs that ripped,”

And without your realization, your soft belly turned into ripped abs with Adonis bet so goddamn clear. Huh, this kid is fucking bold complimenting you like that on public, what if you are homophobic? An empty cart like that can trigger a homophobe if he got hit on but of course you’re feeling good by the compliment, you’re bi and compliment from such a handsome guy who have a raging hard on definitely aroused you

Too bad this is your station before you can make out with that handsome dude. So you slip your number to his jacket pocket and leave him with a wink as you walked out high-spirited to meet your girlfriend

Dillon fumbled with the business card in his fingers and remembered how he got it earlier with fond thoughts. He ran into this stud of a man only mere hours earlier and he surely wanted him and was dropping hints like anvils, but why wouldn't Dillon just pick up the phone then and call him up.

It could have been that marshal was an obvious bro while he himself was the scrawniest twink around. Maybe it was also the fact that he was still a virgin, which seemed to be an embarrassing fact to him that he resented the hell out of. Sometimes he wondered what it was like, but he was afraid. He was afraid that it wouldn't exceed his expectations or that it would just hurt in general. Losing your virginity is suppose to be a defining moment of your life, but would it just end up as an embarrassment that he'd have to suppress in order to function in this world. Marshall surely didn't seem to be one to play games, but the thought of going through with this terrified him. If he didn't he'd feel like a coward, which in some senses was much worse.

''That's it I'm gonna do it.'' he retrieved his phone from his pocket and typed in the number from the card but he couldn't bring himself to press send. It seemed almost impossible for him, as if some force was stopping him from calling.

Dillon let out a breath of air and closed his eyes ''I'm gonna do it. I can't be scared for the rest of my life.''

Without looking, Dillon pressed the button quickly so that he wouldn't have a chance to pussy out. He could here the phone on the other side start to ring, his stomach sank. Part of him hoped Marshall wouldn't pick up, but luck wasn't in his favor.

''Hello, this is Marshall and who's this?"

Dillon felt a lump form in his throat "It's Dillon."

"Dillon who?" Marshall asked.

He became a bit hurt, thinking that Marshall could just forget him so easily and the awkward feeling was felt on the other side by Marshall.

"I was only kidding kid. so what time?''

''What?''

''What time do you wanna meet at Duddy's?''

''Um.. I don't know, when do you wanna... Go?''

''A little nervous are we.'' Dillon could hear Marshall laugh on the other side ''I'm not your first am I?''

''Yes. Is... Is that bad?''

''No not at all, well unless you cum to early." Marshal laughed "No reason, to get all stressed out. What happened to that cocky attitude you were showing off earlier?"

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell he meant by cocky. He'd never been a very confident person his whole life but something about what Marshal was saying was resonating in his head. He straightened his posture and felt a wave of swagger over take him. With it a strange tingling sensation began to permeate throughout his body but before he could say more marshall continued "Just be at room 4 by 8, that'll give you a couple hours to get adjusted. I'll talk to yuh soon."

Before Dillon could get a word in Marshall hung up.

Dillon stood there confused as he heard marshall hang up the phone and felt a strange sensation run through his body that he'd never felt before. He shook his head and let out a breath then walked toward his closet. He didn't understand what marshal meant by giving him a few hours to get adjusted. Adjusted into what exactly? He pushed the idea aside and decided to start getting ready He wanted to make sure he looked good but wasn't sure what to wear. Dillon pulled open the closet door and stared inside for a second before turning around with a smile on his face. He grabbed a blue dress shirt and black slacks off the hanger and set them on top of his bed.

He thought for a moment to put them on but a thought pulsed in his head. Normally this was what he'd wear to meet up with a guy but for some reason he didn't feel like he needed to dress up for him and eye balled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt instead. He put on the shorts and shirt then threw on a pair of sandals. Once he was done changing, that strange feeling in his stomach only spread through the rest of his small frame and made his body tremble. All at once he collapsed to the floor and felt his body starting to shake.

He was confused and scared at first as he watched his body swell and grow, fearing he was having an allergic reaction but quickly realized that he was packing on nothing but muscle. His arms and legs grew thicker while his chest and abs turned chiseled, it wasn't long before his shirt started to tear from the seams and he pulled it off with his new found strength. The more he watched the more he felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins. He could feel his own masculinity getting thrown up to top notch as every aspect of his body started to become more manly by the minute.

His jawline got harder and his nose became broader, his ears grew wider and his eyes were now a tantalizing blue. His hair also grew shaggier as his small frame started to grow until he finally reached his full height at 6'3" tall.

His new body was changing with one thing after another. With every uncontrollable spasm he made became a different change to his physical appearance. His mind was racing with what all this meant but he found it harder to think as hair began to sprout across his body. His arms grew thick and hairy while his legs turned so much better than they did before, growing thicker and longer with each passing second.

Not a single part of his body remained unchanged as his back grew broad and muscular while his chest developed even bigger muscles and his abs bulked out. The hair covered him like fur growing over all of his body and became slick with sweat that wreaked of a manly stench. The smell was getting to him as his thoughts started to grow more sluggish and he could feel himself getting dumber by the second.

He felt another rush of adrenaline flow through his veins as his dick began to swell and the pain in his loins increased. He tried to move but his limbs would not respond to his commands as he laid there on the floor unable to do anything. The smell coming off his muscled jock body was strong and infected his nostrils but the disgusting odor only turned him on more. It was the scent of an alpha male. He felt his cock throbbing in his shorts and realized that it too had grown larger, stretching out his tight boxer briefs.

His cock didn't stop growing as it stretched out his underwear until finally stopping at 12 inches, leaving an impossibly big tent in his briefs. This new body's ability to grow continued as he noticed how his balls were now significantly larger than before, hanging low and heavy between his legs.

As if he hadn't already become enough of an embarrassment to himself, he couldn't control his new body as his hips began to uncontrollably buck into the air as he felt himself about to drop a potent load in his shorts. As if he was trying to save face, he managed to get to his feet and ripped off his shorts with a roar, letting his jock body fall on all fours. He rubbed one of his hands over his exposed body, taking in his new looks with pride.

Dillon looked down at his massive cock and a surge of pleasure ran through him as he remembered who he was. He saw himself as a powerful man, a force to be reckoned with and wanted to show off just how much of an Adonis he truly was. He humped the air and could feel his cock throb as he was about to bust his load all over the floor.

It felt like his whole body was on fire as his cock threatened to shoot thick ropes of cum all over his bedroom floor. He felt his orgasm build up as the pressure grew only more intense. He could feel his balls contracting and the tension building up he fell onto his back. He didn't even have to touch his cock as he thyrough his hands behind himself until finally rope after rope of cum splattered across his chest.

He fell limp to the floor, grunting and moaning in his new alpha state. Each of the thick ropes had felt like it could have been a gallon of sperm as they flew from his cock in a stream of hot white liquid. The strong scent filled the room.

He stumbled up to his feet and looked at the mess he made with a dumb broish grin. A look that he never would have been able to make before. He'd managed to get his load all over his chest and he started rubbing it into his chest hair. Not caring that he probably should take a shower.

He was a real man now and knew what he wanted, no needed. He wanted to get back at Marshall and let him know just what he planned on doing to his ass tonight. Force him to take in his new mighty and muscular body. He quickly slipped on a pair of briefs before finding his phone.

Dillon pulled out his phone to call Marshall and when he finally picked up he said in a dumb broish tone "You ready for me dude? I'm going to get my huge cock all up in your tight little ass."

He let out a dumb chuckle and he could tell Marshall was pleased with what he heard.

"I really like the attitude adjustment." Marshall said with an obvious smirk. "you remember where you're meeting me at?"

"Yeah Duddy's motel at 8."

Marshall laughed "I'll see you there soon then, don't be enjoying that big dick to much before I can get to it."

Dillon let out another brainless chuckle and replied with a dumb joke that only a halfwit like himself would find funny. "Well I better hurry before you have to use your hand for jerking off while thinking about me."

Marshall forced out another laugh and then hung up the phone. He didn't need Dillon to exactly be the brightest crayon in the box to have a good one night stand so the crude jokes were fine in his book.

Dillon smirked as he threw his phone on his bed. He clapped his hands proudly to himself and began shooting and hollering like a true bro who had just conquered yet another conquest. He began wondering how long it would take him to get to where his buddy was staying. He then wondered if maybe he had enough time to maybe jack another load before meeting up with him. An alpha like him did have an endless supply of cum filling his ballsack after all.

He picked his phone back up and found the last picture he took of his old pathetic and wimpy body. The body he had only a few mere moments ago. He used to be such a dweeb and now that he was this huge brute of a man it only filled him with more confidence knowing how far he'd come. He was the epitome of masculinity now whose mere presence demanded for other men to submit to him. He'd never been so vain before let alone so crude or arrogant about himself, but with this new body of his, how couldn't he be.

He started rubbing his massive bulge through his briefs as he imagined Marshall's eyes popping out of his head when he saw his new body and even bigger dick. Then again, Marshall had to of known how he turned him from a small twink into this hunk of a man right?

He continued rubbing his cock while looking at his own bare chest and stomach. He rubbed his pecs still feeling his load tangled in his chest hairs. He started to think about his old life. How he always wore his shirt tucked in which only showed off his small and boney frame. Now he just had to show off his six pack abs and toned pecs and that was something he never thought he'd ever have.

He started pumping his cock faster thinking about this and felt himself getting close to shooting another load. He knew he was going to enjoy his new outlook on life and how couldn't he. Sure he may have been as dumb as a box of bricks now but he had the body to make up for it. He was happy with his new outlook on life and who wouldn't be after making such drastic change.

Marshal only changed him for so that he could have a good fuck tonight but that didn't matter to Dillon. With a body like this he'd never have to worry about sex again. It was that thought that pushed him over the edge and shortly after he retrieved some clothes so he could leave and give Marshall the best lay of his life.

Locked in the Laundry Room

The Origins of Heir

I was so excited to spend a week alone in the city.

For my recent eighteenth birthday, my parents agreed to give me a week and let me explore the nearby city and check out the university I had been longing to attend every since I was little. My favorite cousin, who was a few years older, volunteered to give me a tour on the first day I was there, and the rest of the time was mine to spend on my own. I was so excited, I almost jumped out of my seat when I drove out of my driveway Sunday night.

My cousin and I were best friends from almost as early as I could remember. The two of us were inseparable, and decided when we were older to be partnering doctors. After a few years passed, my cousin flew right out of high school into my dream college. Now a few years later, I was on the same path. Both of us had 4.0’s going into senior year, and I know I could last a little longer.

I was so excited to spend a day with my cousin, but also a week alone. My parents had promised that they would leave me alone and that there wouldn’t be any check-ins or “unplanned” surprises. I was always set on a straight path towards becoming a doctor, so I was usually by myself, nose-deep in my studies. I never really had time to make friends or find a girlfriend. I was also fairly average physically, so no one really put in the effort to talk to me unless they wanted to get an A on some group project. Sure, I was lonely every now and then, but it could have been worse. I always was better on my own or with my cousin.

Monday was amazing. My cousin showed me every stadium, classroom, study area… anything the university had to offer. We ate out, chatted about school, and she introduced me to her friends. When the day was over, I was exhausted. I jumped on my hotel bed and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I explored the city’s restaurants, stores, and parks. Lucky for me, there were plenty of great sales and deals only available on that day. Who knew Tuesdays could be special? As I strolled along a path near the downtown area, I realized I had missed something on my tour yesterday at the university. I hadn’t seen any dorms while I was there! I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket, but realized I shouldn’t text her. It was barely past noon, so I didn’t want to interrupt one of her classes. I thought about what I could do for a moment, and decided I could just find a dorm myself. I ran to a bus stop and jumped on the first ride to the university.

I hopped of the bus and walked to the first dorm I saw: Richardson Hall. Richardson Hall was one of the older buildings on campus, but it was only evident through the slightly faded look on its brown bricks. It was surrounded by oak trees and plenty of students studying and working together on assignments. The building was the only one on campus that hosted students of all ages, but for only males. As I walked closer, I noticed how truly massive it was. It only had five floors, but it looked more like ten as I got closer. I got near the doors and pulled out and fiddled around on my phone, casually waiting for a group of students. I didn’t have a keycard to enter the building, so my great plan was to blend into a group when they entered. I looked at my home screen for a while, which adorned a picture of me and my cousin at a mall. After a few minutes, a group of male students came strolling down the path. As they came up the steps, I quickly added myself in between them and was let inside.

Richardson Hall wasn’t anything special on the inside. Besides it strangely ornate main stairwell, it looked like a normal dorm. I walked around for a bit on the different floors, looking into different people dorms as I strolled by. One of the perks of looking ordinary is that you can drift by without anyone taking too much notice. After about an hour of just hanging around the dorm, I decided it was time to head back to the hotel. As I walked back to the stairwell, I noticed something peculiar. There was a small sign with the words, “LAUNDRY ROOM” in huge letters, and with it a small arrow pointing up. For some reason, I found this amusing. I was on the fourth floor, so that meant that the room was on the top floor. I’d never hear of a laundry room not in the basement, so for some reason I felt like I ​had ​to see this.

Once I got to the top of the stairs, I followed the signs that led me down an old hallway. At the end there was an old brown door that was just barely open. I opened it and was surprised to see a second door. This door was white, with a glass looking into the room. I would’ve just looked through the window and left, but it was made with the kind of glass that was more of a faded white than clear. I slowly pushed the door open and entered.

The laundry room was really nothing special. The room wasn’t too big, and it seemed even smaller due to the amount of washing machines and dryers. There was a skylight above me, flooding sunlight into the room and providing a little natural heat. After I saw the cheap flooring and the soft-colored walls, I decided the room wasn’t as fun as I thought it might be. The only strange thing about it was the smell, or, lack of. I was expecting to be blasted with some sort of detergent-soapy aroma, but instead it was quite stale.

As I inspected the room, I noticed there were two others in the room. They were whispering to each other, but I don’t think they had noticed my presence. The first thing I noticed about them was that they were ​built.​ Both of them were stacked with muscle, and they didn’t try to hide it much either. Their clothes were a little more revealing than I was comfortable with. One was carrying a sports-related bag, while the other was putting laundry in the dryer. They were probably some cocky football jocks or some stereotype to that.

The one said something to the other one with the bag, nodding and smirking, and then patting him on the back. The one with the bag began walking towards me, seeing me for the first time. He wore a tight, light and dark gray striped tee shirt and a pair of too-skinny skinny jeans. His short, dirty-blond hair brought out is kind smile as he walked closer to me, his large fleet clomping.

“See ya, Mark!” he said, his cologne wafting past me as he stomped by. By the way he walked, he was definitely confident with himself. His stride was so powerful that I felt a small breeze ruffle my shorts when he walked past. “Mall in two hours, bro!”

“Sounds good, Easton!” Mark said, still at the laundry machine. I heard Easton walk out and shut the first door behind him quietly.

“Hey, bro,” Mark said, walking forward to me, “I’m Mark.” He extended a meaty paw towards me. “Oh, hi,” I said, looking over him and extending a hand, “I’m John.” I winced a little as we shook hands. I had underestimated how strong he was. His whole body was covered in a tan that showed hours spent in the sun. I started at his chest, because sadly that was eye-level. Mark was wearing a university tee that was at least a size too small. His biceps and pecs were nearly bursting, but his jean shorts were somehow even tighter. The jean shorts barely covered half of his muscled, hairy thighs, and it was obvious by his pronounced bulge that he wasn’t packing light. After drifting my eyes past his hairy calves, I saw his huge feet, which were covered by a pair of old athletic socks and some very worn-down Nike’s. Their bright red color hadn’t survived very long, and it was now faded under a soft layer of dirt. I craned my neck past another pronounced bulge, now in his neck, and looked more closely at his face for the first time. He had a very masculine and sharp jaw, and his hair was messily styled in a way that worked with the whole “football jock” look. The last thing I noticed was his beard, which I was immediately jealous of. A beard like that was hard to grow, and it probably showed more pride than his own pride, if you get what I’m going for.

The whole time I was looking him over, he was inspecting me to.

“You’re not a student, are ya, bro?”

“No, I’m just touring,” I said, a little neglected.

“Well, this is great school! We have some of the best sports around the nation… and best professors,” he quickly added, remembering who he was talking too.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied, already knowing both.

“Well, I gotta head out, but it was nice meeting ya, bro!” Mark smiled and patted my shoulder as he walked past me. I heard him walk over to the door and grab the handle. Mark fiddled with it for a second and groaned. He grabbed it again, a little more vigorously and a little less patiently, and tried to open it, but to no use. I turned to see Mark looking at me; he was angry over something.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing, “my bro, Easton, he accidentally locked the door.”

I stood there, puzzled, “How?”

“The first door is always supposed to be left open because it locks on its own. That doofus closed it.” Mark took a deep breath, but he was obviously pissed. “Ya got your phone on you?” “Yeah one…” I began, but as I reached down into my pocket, my hand felt nothing. I tried again, but it was still empty. I reached into another pocket, and still came out with nothing. After about a minute of searching, Mark stopped me.

“So ya don’t got your phone, and mine’s charging in my room. Great.” Mark walked past and sat down, resting his back on a washing machine. I walked around to where he was sitting, placing myself opposite of him.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked, sounding ignorant.

“Not really,” Mark replied, “Janitors only come up here on Saturdays, but Easton will probably know I’m missing so hopefully we won’t have to stay too long.” We sat there in silence for a little bit, but then started to talk to keep each other company. I got to learn a ton about Mark. He had always been into sports, especially football, but once he got to college he put his major before sports. According to him, he was luckily​ ​convinced by the school’s head coach, Coach Sorenson to continue football and join the team. At first, Mark was reluctant, but as soon as he joined he knew it was the right choice. Mark also talked about the lack of numbers on the team, and how he had an idea to get them back up. He had pitched the idea to Coach Sorenson, and it was so good that he offered Mark a job after he graduated next year as Assistant Coach. Mark agreed and immediately changed his major from Business to Physical Education.

“Bro, I was so nervous about switching, I mean, I’m one of dumbest people I know.” Mark chuckled at his own joke. It was a slow, emptier laugh.

“At least I’m not as stupid as Easton, though!” Mark added. We both laughed at that real hard. We sat there for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, before Mark spoke again.

“Hey, bro, would ya be alright if I take of some of my clothes?” Mark asked. During the whole conversation, I hadn’t even noticed the heat. The room was boiling. There was no air conditioning, and skylight was still shining light into the room, making it much hotter than comfortable.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, removing my own sweater. I now noticed the sweat stains scattered along my shirt. Mark carefully removed his own shirt, carefully. It was soaked through with sweat and stuck to his chest like another skin. As he pulled it off, I got a full look of his torso. I was a little jealous before, but now I was bursting with envy. His chest was perfectly defined; it was what every man wanted but couldn’t have. It was hairless, unlike the rest of his body, but you could see every ab and muscle. I was definitely straight, but this truly tested my sexaulity.

The whole time I was gawking at his chest, I didn’t notice him toss his shoes and socks next to me. The smell of his feet instantly filled the hot and stale room, making it so steaming that it brought me out of my trance.

“Size 15,” he proudly stated, smirking, ”biggest on the team.”

I looked at his huge feet, and then at his huge shoes. They reeked so much that it was making me a little dizzy. Then, I noticed another scent begin to fill the room, and for some reason it was familiar. I tried to find the source, and Mark took notice of me immediately.

“Oh, that?” he asked, his smirk grew a little wider as his tone became a little more menacing, “that’s the smell of my cologne: Heir.”

Mark took a little bottle out of his pocket with the word “HEIR” written in big, messy letters. He then put the bottle away and casually lifted both of his arms placed them behind his head. He fully exposed his armpits to me, which were filled jungles of wiry hairs. All the hairs that should’ve been on his chest were obviously there. I then realized why the scent was familiar; I had smelt it on Easton as he left.

“Remember the idea I had talked about earlier, bro?” Mark smiled as he scooted towards me. The scent of his shoes and cologne were making it hard to concentrate.

“When I was taking my Business major, right before I switched to Physical Education, I took a class on funding. An assignment was to fund a new and upcoming company. I stumbled upon a tiny company that made personalized scents located a few miles from here. I brought an idea to Coach about making some colognes, and he approved of it. See, together we made a cologne for all the football jocks to wear, that way we could recruit new players.”

I tried to understand what he was saying, but the two scents were blinding my other senses from working properly. Mark scooted again so he could sit next to me. He slowly took my head and placed it on his crotch with my facing up. He then brought one of his armpits down to my face and uttered a simple command.

“Sniff.”

In my state of confusion, I immediately complied. I began to sniff, at first tentatively, but after a while more confidently. After sniffing his armpit for a little bit, I began to moan as the effects of the cologne set in.

It started with my height. My legs and torso began to stretch to each new breath I took. I felt new muscles tense and release as I got to a height a little over 6’2”, which was a little under Mark’s 6’4”. The next thing I felt was my chest begin to expand. Each new breath made my torso rise a little more. Hard pectorals began to slowly develop, pushing their way into the open. A cobblestone path began to appear as my non-existent abs began to form from thin air. Next were my legs. I groaned a little as my quads began to tense into solid muscle, perfect for the running I’d be doing every day. As soon as my thighs were done pumping up, my calves followed. My calves became meatier, with solid muscle adding itself on top of more muscle. I felt my butt plump up a little too, becoming bubblier.

My arms followed quickly after. Years and years of training kicked into my arms to make them better for throwing and tackling. My biceps and triceps inflated like little balloons, and my hand beefed up to make it easier to catch the ball and high-five my bros. As soon as my hands were done swelling, my feet kicked into gear. My feet, which were already pushed away due to my new legs, began to expand. I could feel my toes slowly move farther and farther towards the ceiling from the floor, until they themselves plumped up. New veins appeared over my feet, giving them a truly masculine look.

“Size 14,” Mark said, admiring my feet as I continued smelling his armpit, “good for you.”

For some reason, it felt good to know that Mark was happy with me. I kept sniffing and felt my neck expand. My moans began to grow deeper and emptier; my voice sounding dumber with each new breath. By the time my neck was finished transforming, my voice sounded almost identical to Mark’s and Easton’s; a now truly sounded like a football jock. My neck was followed up by my head. I quickly dug my head deeper into the dense forest that was Mark’s armpit, trying to help progress the change. My head began to stretch longer. I felt my cheekbones move up and my chin push down, causing my cheeks to suck themselves in. My hair began to turn blond, cutting the sides and growing out on top. As soon as it stopped growing, it coiffed itself up. My nose shrank a little and my lips grew a little wider, and my eyes tooks on an vacant shade of blue.

“Here comes the best part, bro,” Mark said anxiously, pushing me even deeper into his armpit, “this is where the name comes from.”

I sniffed passionately, wanting whatever Mark was so eager about. Suddenly, I began to feel rather itchy across my entire body. I tried to squirm, but I realized that smelling Mark’s armpit was more important. As I gave my full attention to sniffing, I realized I had hair growing all over my body. Blond hairs were heavily covering my legs, arms, butt… there was hair everywhere. There was hair on the tops of my feet, a new bush in my pouch, and my armpits looked like a blond version of Mark’s. The only place where there was an absence of hair was my chest. Once the hair stopped growing, I began to produce my own, pungent body odor. It was then I realized what Mark meant. The cologne was named Heir, but everytime he had pronounced it as “Hair.”

Mark then lifted me out of his armpit and turned me around to face him. I was still a little dazed, but I was coming back to my own consciousness.

“The cologne isn’t the only thing the company makes.” Mark reached past me and grabbed one of his shoes, he pulled out a faded, slightly wet shoe sole. “They also make scented shoe soles.” I was still confused, the smells hadn’t worn off.

He explained further, “The cologne does the physical work, but we have to make sure ya also become a team player mentally. These were a little harder to afford, and they come with some side effects, but bro, it’ll make ya into what you’re supposed to be.”

“Wha… side effects?” I was finally coming back, my head starting working as thoughts came back. I began to realize the danger I had been in all along.

“Oh, nothing,” Mark grinned, bringing the huge boat to my face, “let’s just say that you’ll truly be a bro. You’re gonna be as bright as Easton and have the libido of frat president.”

Mark shoved my head into his shoe, and right as I came out of my state of confusion, I was shoved back in. I began to sniff again, feeling my mind replace itself. Memories of my family and high school began to disappear. My loneliness was replaced with tons of friends, girlfriends, and secret relationships with other bros. My new family was more athletic, with my parents both being high school coaches. Memories of being alone with my cousin were now replaced with drunken homecoming bashes and late night bangs. As I sniffed Mark’s shoe, I realized this was all true. I had ​always dedicated myself to sports, and if I had always dedicated myself to sports, that means I would’ve had no time for an education. All my intellectual thoughts and ideas began to flow down through my system, all the way down into my pouch. My balls began to expand, churning my own intellect into pure, jock testosterone. They got bigger and bigger, slowly reaching the size of two tennis balls. My 4.0’s slowly became B’s, which dragged into C’s, and in turn dragged into barely even graduating. I remembered the only reason I had gotten into college was a football scholarship.

Memories of college began to flow in as well. For some reason, I’d thought I was touring as a future student, but I remembered that I was already a student here. I was in my third year of my Exercise Science major to become a physical trainer. I remembered the countless parties that had been hosted at my frat, the multiple professors I’ve had “extra-credit seminars” with, and when my main bros Mark and Easton helped me discover I wasn’t actually straight. After that, we shared so many brojobs and “study-halls” together. I remembered the countless games my football team had won, and how good I felt whenever I could please my coach, Coach Sorenson, or my broski Mark. Sure, I was very close to dropping out of college, but I remembered that as long as I did what Coach Sorenson told me, I would graduate.

Mark began whispering commands to me, edging me on to a spectacular release. He told me how it had always been this way, how I always had this perfect life, how all I needed to do was smell the shoe and release. I kept getting closer, feeling my average member get longer and longer until it reached a permanent eight inches, just barely shorter than Mark’s. Mark kept whispering into my ear and told me to take a deep breath and hold it. I followed his instructions, taking one more huge breath and sealing my IQ at an eternal 89. Then he whispered one last time in my ear.

“Just do it.”

I did exactly that. Streams of white erupted and spread all over my chest, Mark’s chest, and the pile of ripped clothes around me. My old memories were now gone forever. I was still John, but now as a hot, popular jock who would do anything for his Coach and bros. Now, thanks to Mark, I’ve learned who I truly am. I’m about as bright as best bro Easton and have the libido of frat president, and that’s what I’ve always wanted.

As soon as I snapped back to reality, Mark explained to me that we were just doing laundry and got bored, so he decided to give me a good ‘ole brojob. When I noticed I was naked, I asked where my clothes were.

“In the laundry, bro,” Mark guffawed, “we were doing laundry, remember? Why else would we be in here?”

I gave a dumb, hearty laugh back. He opened a dryer and tossed me a pair of gray sweatpants. I brought them to my nose and took a sniff. Mark, Easton, and I never actually use washing machines, we just throw our dirty clothes into the dryer to amplify the smell of our dirty clothes. If people complained, we’d just apply the football team’s awesome cologne: Heir. I pulled up the sweatpants while Mark put back on his socks and shoes. He pulled his shirt over his head, which now stunk of sweat and cum. We began to walk towards the doors, and suddenly, we both heard a click as the first door swung open. There stood Easton, smiling a dumb grin as he came in.

“Hey broskis!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “You meatheads left your phones in the frat house.”

Easton searched through his bag, handing Mark back his phone before grabbing mine. After getting my phone, I leaned up against a counter and checked looked at my home screen, which was a picture of Easton, Mark, and I at the beach in our speedos.

As I searched my phone, I overheard Mark and Easton talking.

“Has he passed the final test?” Easton whispered.

“Not yet, but I think he’ll pass,” Mark replied back confidently before strolling over to me.

“Hey, John,” Mark said, coming close to me. I could smell him. “Are you missing anything?”

“Uh,” I paused, my empty voice rumbling, “my jock?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I was going for, bro. Commando doesn’t count.” Mark came over and grabbed my accentuated pouch. I loved when he did that. Then I figured out the answer.

“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my bros!”

“Bingo!” Mark said, nodding to Easton.

“Hey bro!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “Where’s your shirt?”

“He was too dumb to notice he was missing it!” Mark laughed, and Easton and I quickly joined in. How could I have been so dumb to forget a shirt?

Easton pulled out a blue sleeveless shirt with the Nike symbol out of his sports bag. I smelled it, and realized it was used. Just how I liked it. He also handed me a pair secondhand of black and gray Nike trainers. I investigated the shoes, looking right at the special soles before I put the shoes on. They looked huge, but fit my feet perfectly.

“I can be so dumb sometimes, bro.” I laughed at myself as I put on my clothes. “Such a meathead.”

“That mean’s your keeping what’s important in mind,” Mark added before also reaching into Easton’s bag. He pulled out a small bottle with a label. I raised my arms, showing off my pits, and Mark sprayed a hefty amount of cologne into the dense hairs. He put the Heir bottle back into Easton’s bag.

“Let’s go, bros!” Mark said, leaving the laundry room, “Don’t want to be late for practice!”

--- Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by breedertfs ---

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

Caption 3 - Wednesday

For today’s caption, due to many of y’all requesting that I write this particular kind of TF again, I will be using more photos than just the one that @mystrangetfs provided. You can view that image here!

Have you been keeping up with his stories? Here’s his latest caption! He’s going above and beyond, folks. This has been as much of a treat for me as it’s been for y’all. I hope you keep enjoying what we have to offer!

Stud Pride

Emily was a prodigy.

She was the valedictorian of her high school class, first chair flute, captain of the debate team, and a state-qualified cross country runner. The girl had a lot of skills under her belt — anything she set her mind to, it seemed like she could accomplish — but what she lacked was confidence.

For all of her brilliance, there was an insecure shyness, too. She found it difficult to share herself with people, not sure how to string together a compelling conversation outside of her many debate-required arguments.It was easier being a wallflower, watching the world pass her by and telling herself she’d catch up with it when she was ready to put herself out there.

But here she was on the first day of her college career, after months of telling herself that this would be the push she needed to finally break out of her cocoon. Nothing seemed all that different as she hugged one of her textbooks to her chest, dodging around the sea of unfamiliar students and coming to a halt by the campus fountain of Parkview University.

She stared at the stone horses, idolizing how majestic they were, scolding herself for being so meek and quiet and reserved. Here she was, a Parkview Stallion in her own right, but there was nothing free or strong about her. She should have went to a university with a more appropriate mascot, she considered with a small frown. Something like a mouse.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the galloping horses, pulling a penny from her pocket without even considering how childish it was. Wishing on coins and fountains was not logical in the slightest, but maybe that was her problem. Maybe Emily needed just a little bit of magic in her life. So she let the coin fly, watching it flip gracefully through the air before it collided with the water, and she made her wish.

“I wish I was worthy of this school. I want to live up to all the expectations of being a Stallion.”

It was simple enough, the tried and true ‘speak it into existence’ method, but nothing really changed or clicked for her. There were butterflies fluttering in her stomach, a swirling unease deep in the pit of her gut, but she was convinced that had been there the whole time. She sucked in a breath and went about her day.

The strange thing was how her fellow classmates began to interact with her. They didn’t say anything at first, just a series of nods and enthusiastic waves as Emily moved through the packed crowd. A few of the female students smirked at her in an oddly flirtatious manner, and many of the college jocks looked pumped to see the nerdy girl. She tried to play it off, blushing shyly.

But then she heard a low voice shout, “Bro, the legend is finally here! How you been, man?” It took her a moment to realize the beefy frat boy suddenly standing by her side was talking to her, let alone about her. He definitely wasn’t someone she knew, certainly not someone she went to high school with, and she was positive he didn’t have any interest in her. With a cautious sniff, she wasn’t sure he even had an interest in basic hygiene.

He was smiling such a goofy grin, though, and he looked so happy and excited to see her that it made her smile, too. Maybe someone had dared him to prank her? Maybe he was just getting too into the act? For just a moment, she felt confidence stir in her, and she let herself ponder the possibility that maybe he really was thrilled to see her. Maybe she had a reputation already. Maybe she didn’t have to question every little thing that happened.

“Yeah, uh, it’s me. I’ve been good.” Emily spread her legs a little wider, lowering the textbook she was clutching to her chest and letting it hang casually by her side. She needed to relax, or she was going to scare this guy off with how uptight she was. “How have you been?” She got the question out easily enough, but there was a slight pause as her tongue nearly pushed out the word ‘bro.’

That would have been pushing it a bit too far, she told herself, trying to find a balance between being chill enough to hang out with this dude and acting enough like herself that she wasn’t coming across as fake. The jock didn’t seem as lost in his head as Emily was, breaking out into a wider smile and moving into a double bicep flex without a second thought. “Bro, you see these gains? Summer was a fuckin’ pump fest. I’ve been great!”

Emily wasn’t sure how to respond to that, looking around the large campus and down at herself as she tried to come up with the right words  — wait, was she wearing this outfit the whole time? She could have sworn she had dressed more formal for the occasion, but at least she felt comfortable. That was really all that mattered. The workout shirt and elastic denim pants were large on her, but warm from years of use, so warm they calmed her down and slowed her thoughts.

“You’re a total beast, man. Keep it up.” And then she patted the jock on the shoulder, like it was the most natural thing, and he kept smiling and chuckling like there was nothing strange about them interacting like this. “I’ll catch up with ya later, bro.” Her vocal chords were stirring, shortening, and taking control. She didn’t realize what she had called the guy until he grabbed her hand in some sort of weird frat boy handshake and mock-saluted at her.

“See ya, bro.”

It ran through her mind that she needed to find her dorm as she watched the musky jock leave, shaking her head to break out of her daze. She didn’t feel her hair whipping around her face as she moved, but then she reached up and grazed her backwards cap, and that felt right. She had said she wanted to make a change, to not be so lost in her head, so she was sure to dress down on her first day. She was in college now. It didn’t matter what brand of clothes she wore, she was a fuckin’ athlete with a full ride scholarship. All that mattered was how much weight she could bench.

She stopped in her tracks, scratching at the back of her exposed neck and scrunching her thick eyebrows together. No, she was here on an academic scholarship — right? “Uh,” was all she could say, standing there like an idiot who couldn’t get her brain to function properly. The deep sound moved through her, down the length of her throat and causing an Adam’s apple to swell. She had been changing since she made her wish, and she should have noticed by now — definitely by now — but she couldn’t figure it out. Everything felt right.

All of a sudden she was so chill, and slow, strolling through campus like she had no better place to be. She started waving back at all the dudes and chicks who greeted her, feeling her legs burn as she started to stretch up and up until she was beginning to have to glance down at her new friends. Her worn out workout clothes were starting to become more than just warm, and she even lifted a pit to breathe in her rank stench. Something on the inside winced, and shouted out in displeasure, but all she expressed on the outside was a low, dumb chuckle.

They called him Stink Bomb for a reason.

Emily stopped again, this time pressing a meaty hand to her forehead and gasping from the sudden shocking memory. “No, bro. That’s not me.” She was so aware, for just a moment, hearing the stretch of fabric as she glanced down at the pecs ballooning against her shirt. Her thighs were becoming thick and straining the elastic of her pants, there were sweat stains all over her body, she was getting huge and smelly and losing every aspect of her former self.

She moaned in pleasure as something hot awakened between her legs, looking around her help, but all she saw were smiling faces and waving hands and a sea of strangers masquerading as her new friends. It was like the world had turned a blind eye to what was happening to her, just like she had, but now she was forced to watch as something thick and long snaked out from her crotch, pushing so tightly against her pants that she whimpered in pain and pleasure. “Bro, I’m too fucking big.”

And, fuck, he really was. Em couldn’t really think of anything else. He was so focused on his muscles as they continued to pump, he loved watching his pecs dance beneath his shirt, seeing his sleeves bunch up around his bowling ball biceps. He had thrown on the clothes he wore during yesterday’s workout, because he was fuckin’ late to his first day of college, but no one cared. They loved him. He was the big man on campus, the star freshman football team recruit. It was okay if he stank.

Em was here to stay, or was it Ev — an inward vice screamed, “Your name is Emily! Please don’t forget!” — but Evan’s new thoughts were so big and beefy and dumb that he squashed every last trace of the nerdy girl he had been. What kind of bro would go by Emily? He clearly wasn’t a fag. He smirked at all the babes checking him out, even being so crass as to rub the fat cock he was hiding in his boxers. He was gonna have so much fucking fun at the parties on campus, that was his priority beyond staying swole for sports. Yeah, he was going to flunk all his business classes, but Coach said he’d help him out. He scratched at his chin with a snicker, loving the feeling of his stylin’ stubble.

Pair that with the diamond studs in his ears? His shaven, tatted up body? God, he was such a pussy magnet. He didn’t have to do shit, just one flex and the panties went flying up into the air. He was such a smug, dumb douche, throwing up peace signs and duck lips like he didn’t know the meaning of growing up. Like this wasn’t a serious college. Evan was Peter Pan on steroids, frozen on an elementary school education with the rocking body of a prize stud horse.

And, hell, he fuckin’ was one now! PARKVIEW STALLIONS REPRESENT, BRO. His brain was wired to promote his university team, to live up to the mascot with every fiber of his being. He already had the horse cock down, and the full breeding balls. He squeezed out a silent but deadly fart as he strolled up to the fraternity he pledged to, and he chuckled even louder. He even had the stink down to an, uh… an S? Because stink starts with S?

He didn’t fuckin’ understand some shit, but who the fuck cared? He was loud, and brash, and popular. He felt his body pulse with energy one last time, moaning without a care in the world as his shoulders popped into place, his jaw squaring out, growing thicker and sexier and knowing he still had so much bigger to get. That’s why he pumped so hard. That’s why we was going to pump some more right now. When he saw the jock he had greeted that morning, he jogged over and slapped him hard on the back.

“Bro,” he almost slurred, grasping the boy’s shoulder tight and holding him in place as he let out a booming, sputtering fart. He was so fuckin’ proud of how he smelled. He was so gross, but the ladies couldn’t get enough of this stud. He couldn’t get enough of himself, either. He loved watching people choke on the mere scent of him.

“Show me where the gym is. Stink Bomb needs to get his pump on NOW.”

Evan was a Parkview Stallion, through and through.

Maybe he couldn’t do basic math anymore, or hold a flute in his big meaty hands, or win an argument without burping in the other person’s face, or do anything that involved too much cardio without exhausting his hulking body — but at least he was a confident son of a bitch now. He wasn’t shy about anything.

That was a fair trade off, right?

Listen Up: All-American

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-07 by newyoutf ---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stronger. Stronger. Stronger.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re tall…”

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

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

“...Really tall…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t forget your back.”

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

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

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

*“Size 13s must be hard to find…”**

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

“You’re such a looker, Olly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I bet those 10 inches are popular online.”

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

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

“You’re a real man.”

“Huhhh… unnnghhh.. yeah… I am!”

“You’re a fucking alpha.”

“Hnnnnggghh, fuck yeah!”

“Cum, stud.”

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

“Remember to share this recording with your friends…”

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

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

I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

That’s how it started, you see. With irony. With a joke. A joke Daniel made about grabbing em by the pussy. Jared said it was kinda offensive, man. Daniel doubled down, saying he was just being ironic, explaining how he’d never be that misogynist, obviously.

Jared did end up laughing, just not wanting to be rude more than anything. I mean, they were friends and obviously Daniel didn’t swing that way.

But one joke turned into another joke, days later. And another. And the ways things were spiraling, soon the two roommates – they lived in a shared house of four – were joking about it all the time. Pretending to be alt-right. Pretending because it was fun, it was funny, it was something to do, a way to make fun of guys who acted like that while simultaneously getting to feel what it was like to be that sort of guy themselves.

They were pretty regular guys. But it became funny to pretend they were jock studs, too. “I dare you to work out, bro,” Daniel goes one night. “I fucking dare you. If you can do 100 pushups consecutively, I’ll even let you grab me by the pussy,” Daniel goes, grabbing his own cock and balls through his shorts for emphasis, which wasn’t hard since he was freeballing that night.

“Oh yeah?” Jared said, “Watch this, bro.” He only made it to fifteen, laughing, but they kept up their dare. Jared was building some pipes on those arms. And months later, after a few shots of whiskey, he hit one hundred pushups for the first time in his life.

“Dude, if I’m gonna grab you by the pussy, I want to see you wearing those Old Glory shorts.” Yeah, the shorts Daniel bought to be ironic. Jared knew those.

And he did grab Daniel’s cock and balls through the shorts, holding onto them tight, laughing, squeezing. “Ouch, dude, that fuckin’ hurts,” Daniel said. It was hilarious. They were so drunk.

But then it was Jared’s turn to dare Daniel, saying he should get as pumped as he was, that is if he could ever catch up. “I’m working on 120 pushups, bro, and look at you. Fuckin’ puny. Little Daniel. I dare you, bro. You can grab me by the pussy if you ever catch up.”

Daniel wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. And soon his guns were just as big, if not bigger. Their jokes were becoming almost infamous in the house.

“Drop and give me 20, Daniel. ‘Merica!” “Come on, tiny hands, let’s see if you can beat me at arm-wrestling.” “Aww, so hot, bro. You and that MAGA cap. I bet you’ll be able to score all the pussy you want if you wear that out to the bars.” “Lock her up, lock her up!” Daniel said to Jared when he was drunk off his ass, trying to tie him to his chair with rope. The guys loved horsing around.

Jared and Daniel both had American flag shorts, now. They had flag tank tops, t-shirts, hats, even MAGA caps. They were getting to be pretty buff guys. Acting like right-wing jockbros had been ironic, but now they looked pretty convincing in the part after working out so much and buying the gear they bought. Vocal inflections, ironic at first, now sounded more and more legit as they got their impersonations down pat. Sometimes they’d go out and hit the bars, ham it up, see who they fooled, which was pretty much everybody.

They were good at this. It was fucking funny and fun as hell.

Drunk one night, Daniel found himself confessing to Jared that he thinks it’s really hot when Jared acts like a MAGA guy. “Yeah bro?” Jared said, “I think it’s hot too. Makes me feel hot. It’s like everything I secretly want to be when I’m like this.”

“Yeah bro?” Daniel said, “I think that’s so fucking hot, man. You look great as one of those guys. I almost feel like I could grab you by the pussy for real, bro.”

“Why don’t you do it then, bro,” Jared said, “When we’re home. I fucking dare you, bro. Get those tiny hands on this big cock of mine. Bet you don’t have the balls.”

But turned out Daniel did have the balls, and when he took Jared’s cock in his mouth behind that locked bedroom door, all Jared could say was, “Fuck, bro. MAGA, bro. That’s so fuckin’ hot, bro,” before he came, five minutes later, flooding Daniel’s mouth with white hot cum.

You might like this, @mrrharper