The Sex Shop (Smelly Size 14 Sneakers)

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

With each swing of their racket they became DUMBER. With each pass of the ball they became ROUGHER. Every time the ball bounced up, and down their muscles EXPANDED. Their clothes rip as their eyes lost FOCUS of the game.

They didn't know the court was enchanted. They were just two DUDES doing a few skirmishes. They had no clue that with each passing second they were getting HORNIER. They had no idea what they were craving as their mouths and holes yearned for something to fill. All it took was one pose in front of the net squatting for BRO to drop his shorts.

All it takes is one new COCK to make you a slut for em. I love making campus gayer.

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

Michael’s Pits

Getting into his car Michael closed the door and basked in the hot musty sedan. It was a hot day and he had left a pair or two of worn shoes sitting in his car just baking and letting their aroma amplify. Michael took in some deep breaths as he felt sweat running down his body, he had just exited the gym and the hot sun outside kept his body from cooling off. Michael loved summer because he always worked up the most stink during the sweltering summer months, lifting his arms. He turned his head to get a deep sniff of one pit and then turned his head to get a whiff of the other. Both were producing a dank scent that pleased Michael and his dim mind. Hearing his phone buzzing he looked down and saw someone texting him, the text was from his boyfriend asking what he wanted to do for dinner.

Camron was a little surprised when his boyfriend Michael texted back and told him “we shuld get a pizza bro”, Michael never spoke like that so it was very odd to Camron that Michael was texting like a dumb jock all of a sudden. “Sure babe I’ll order it” Camron texted, he called the pizza place they go to sometimes.

Walking into the pizza place a sweet looking guy was standing at the cash register, “Hi how can I help you today?” he asked Michael. Michael looked at him dumbly for a second and a dopey grin crossed his face, “Great! A fucking weirdo” thought the cashier. The cashier, Sage, asked again, “How can I help you today, sir?”. Michael’s foggy brain cleared up a little bit to allow him to tell the cashier what he needed, “Uhhh hi bro im picking up a pizza”, “What’s the name?” Sage politely asked, “Uhhhh it’s under…ummmm…” his brain was having trouble getting his boyfriend’s name out “it’s under Camron!” he shouted out joyfully. “Okay! Let me go get that for ya” Sage said, going into the kitchen Sage found the pizza box with Camron scribbled on the side. Walking back out Sage was met with the sight of Michael sniffing his armpit, Sage could smell the B.O. wafting over the counter and into his nose. “Ummm here you go sir…” Sage said apprehensively as he was being weirded out, “Do you think my pits stink lil man?” Michael asked the cashier as he scratched his fingers in his wild forest of pit hair. “Ummm sir…I-,” Sage stuttered out “Here give em a whiff” Michael said, sticking the hand he was just scratching his revolting pit with into the cashier’s face, Michael laughed as Sage took an accidental sniff.

Sage felt his body go limp as the stench emanating off Michael’s fingers put him in a trance, “Whats happening!?!” Sage thought “This…this guy…reeks”. Michael watched as the cute little cashier began to drool, his eyes became unfocused and dull upon smelling Michael’s masculinity. Removing his fingers for a second, Michael walked around the counter to be right next to Sage, getting a couple whiffs of fresh air, Sage shook his head and blinked. Wiping the drool away he shouted out “What just happened?! G…get away! NO! BACK OF MAnnn…” Sage’s words drifted off as he was put back in Michael’s stinky armpit. Holding the pipsqueak’s head into his pit, Michael watched as his musty scent did it’s job.

Sage began to grow, the first transformation Michael saw started after about a minute or two of exposure to the stink. Sage’s neck began to expand with muscle, which quickly spread into his dainty shoulders, turning them into two massive hulking mounds. Sage felt as an intense tingling descended into his arms, they quickly transformed into looking like a hillside, all the rolling muscles he had just grown were so perfect and round. His armpits filled with a peppering of hair and began to produce their own nauseating stench similar to Michaels. Michael looked on proudly as Sage’s pecs bounced out and touched him and his stomach chiseled itself into a perfect six pack. Sage’s thighs began to expand next as the transformation moved downwards, the tiny toothpicks he once had for legs turned into massive meaty members holding him up. His feet began to grow next and they quickly burst out of the sneakers containing them and released Sage’s newly developed rotten foot funk.

Pulling his victim out of his armpit, Michael got to see his new face. It had changed while stuck in Michael’s smelly pit. His skin had gotten a good bit darker, his goatee had become just a patch of hair underneath his chin, and his stache disappeared. He lost all the femininity he once had and looked like a reeking latino gym bro. Michael was satisfied and took the pizza and left, on his way out another young twinkish customer walked in and he heard Sage ask the customer “Huhuhuh bro do my pits stink?”.

“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

LIFT

Jay said, his voice firm and steady, the way a coach’s should be. As a 40 year old gym coach, he had his habits when it came to training guys, helping them get to their physical fitness goals. He looked at the guy he was training as gritted his teeth and pulled the barbell up with a shaky breath.

“Lift.”

The weight came down again. Jay rolled his shoulders, watching closely, his own muscles twitching from habit.

“Lift.”

He blinked. Something felt off. He had said that word a million times, but this time, it echoed strangely in his head, stretching out—

“Liftttt—”

A rush of cold air hit him. His breath stuck into the black balaclava he was wearing. His gloved hands gripped a metal bar..

He was on a ski lift.

His body felt different—lean, light, skinny, a comfortable flex beneath sleek layers of ski gear. His boots rested on the bar, expensive and pristine. A helmet pressed snugly against his head.

And next to him sat someone else. Another guy, equally sleek, equally expensive-looking. His ski goggles reflected the bright winter sun, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“You alright, bro?” the guy asked, his voice teasing, slow and hot. Seemingly young and teenage-ish. “You zoned out for a sec.”

Jay- or was it Jayden swallowed. The guy’s voice was familiar. This whole scene was familiar. He wasn’t just on any ski lift. He was on his ski lift.

Memories trickled in—winter trips, après-ski parties, Miami beaches, yachts, fast cars. He wasn’t a gym coach. He was…

A rich 20-year-old ski boy. Jayden.

And the guy next to him? Jayden knew him too. Knew his name. Knew the way his smirk turned into a breathless laugh when they were racing down the ski slopes.

Knew the way they flirted, although they weree supposed to be fully straight.

Jaydens lips parted, a cocky smirk forming on their own.

“Guess I was just distracted,” he said, his voice smooth, rich, young. “Probably by you.”

The guy chuckled, shifting closer.

“Good,” he murmured. “We got the whole lift ride to get even more distracted.”

He turned toward the guy next to him, the heat between them cutting through the crisp mountain air. The dude was hot—really hot. Not because he had a beautiful face (he did), but because he looked so handsome in his ski gear. You couldn’t even see his face behind his balaclava, helmet & ski mask. But Jayden remembered tons of nights with his bro, sucking it and taking it without any hesitation.

The guy’s gloved hand shifted, resting casually on Jayden’s thigh, just above his ski pants. Not quite subtle. Not quite innocent.

Jayden smirked. “Getting comfortable?”

The guy just grinned, his fingers pressing in slightly. “You looked cold.”

Jayden chuckled, shifting slightly so their knees bumped together. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you just wanna touch me?”

The other guy tilted his head, his ski goggles sliding down slightly. “Touch what? You’re barely packing anything”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. It was all coming back now—the way they teased each other, the way neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, especially on long ski lifts like this.

He let his own hand drift, sweaty gloved fingers brushing over the guy’s arm, then his chest, feeling the firm skinny body beneath the layers.

“Damn,” Jayden murmured, voice low. “Forgot how solid you are.”

The guy smirked. “Forgot how much you liked that.” His hand slid higher, fingers squeezing just a little.

Jayden rolled his eyes, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Shut up, Luca.”

Luca just grinned. His hand sliding lower and lower, cupping Jayden’s average sized dick beneath the ski gear layers. He moaned.

Jayden shifted, pressing himself closer against Luca, feeling the heat of his body even through their thick ski gear. His breath hitched as Luca’s hand slid lower, teasing over the waistband of his ski pants.

“Hey,” Jayden murmured, voice dropping into something softer, needier. “Pet me.”

Luca chuckled, fingers stilling just at the curve of Jayden’s rear. “Pet you where?” he asked, like he wanted to hear Jayden say it.

Jayden swallowed, face heating beneath his balaclava. He knew what Luca wanted, and he knew how much he loved teasing him for it. “You know where,” he muttered, shifting slightly. His small, tight rear barely filled out his ski pants, a firm little thing that didn’t bulge out at all, just hugged close to his frame like it belonged to a lean, sleek ski boy like him. He knew Luca liked it, liked how perky and snug it was.

Luca hummed, fingers finally pressing in, palming over the slight curve. “Damn,” he teased, voice rich with amusement. “Forgot how tiny this thing is. No wonder it takes so much work to feel you.”

Jayden groaned, half from embarrassment, half from the way Luca’s fingers kneaded him, spreading warmth through his layers. He pushed back slightly, encouraging. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

Luca just laughed, fingers pressing firmer, squeezing the small handful of Jayden’s rear through his ski pants. “Cute,” he murmured. “All tight and little.

Jayden’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted in that way it always did when Luca had him like this—flushed, flustered, teased into submission.

Luca’s grip on him tightened suddenly, fingers digging in just enough to make Jayden jolt. Then, his voice came, low and playful, right against Jayden’s ear.

“Do something for me,” he said

Jayden swallowed. “What?”

Luca’s hand on his ass flexed, warm and firm. “Fart on my hand.”

Jayden’s stomach twisted—not from disgust, but from something deeper, something hotter. The fact that Luca was actually asking for it, wanting it, made Jayden’s pulse hammer against his throat. His first instinct should’ve been to shove Luca’s hand away, to roll his eyes and laugh it off. But instead, he found himself shifting, adjusting his seat, making sure Luca’s hand was cupped right under him.

His ski pants were tight, snug against his body, trapping in every bit of heat from their morning runs down the mountain. He could feel the layers hugging him close, sealing in the warmth, sealing in everything.

“Hold on,” Jayden murmured, his voice dropping, turning softer, breathier. He pressed his weight down against Luca’s palm, focusing, feeling the slw churn in his stomach.

Luca let out a slow chuckle, his fingers flexing slightly over Jayden’s tight, small rear. “Atta boy,” he murmured, encouraging. “Let it out, rich boy.”

Jayden sucked in a breath, his gut bubbling, twisting from the sausages and potatoes he’d downed at breakfast. His teenage metabolism had been working overtime, turning everything he ate into fuel—and, apparently, gas. The pressure built low in his gut, warm and insistent, pushing right against the tight waistband of his ski pants.

And then—

Prrfffttt—

A slow, hot burst of gas pushed out, muffled by the thick insulation of his ski gear but heavy, sinking straight into the layers of fabric. It was thick, rich, almost humid in the way it settled, caught between the padding of his ski pants, sinking in deep, unable to escape. The scent hit immediately—sulfuric, eggy, lingering deep in the heat of his clothes

Luca exhaled, fingers tightening over Jayden’s ass. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice dipping, lower, rougher. “That’s rank.”

Jayden shivered, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted, letting the warmth of it seep deeper into his pants, knowing it was trapped there, brewing, getting stronger by the second.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice breathy, cocky. He pushed back slightly, his rear still snug against Luca’s palm. “You like that?”

Luca let out a low chuckle, rubbing slow, lazy circles over Jayden’s rear. “Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Gimme another.”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. The heat of Luca’s hand, the way he was actually asking for it, made him feel—fuck. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to feed him more.

He bit his lip, stomach twisting again, another deep, rich bubble of gas pushing low. He wanted this. Wanted to let go again, right into Luca’s waiting hand.

Jayden shifted once more, feeling the pressure in his gut build, his stomach still working through the sausages and potatoes he’d eaten. He could feel the weight of it in his lower belly, thick and sluggish, pressing against the tight fabric of his ski pants. His butt cheeks shifted restlessly, the material of his gear rubbing against his skin, and the warmth of the gas started to rise, spreading in the thick layers.

Luca’s hand never left his body. It was a steady, relentless presence, still cupping the firm curve of Jayden’s tight butt, fingers flexing, pressing in, making him feel every inch of his body responding to the heat between them.

Jayden bit his lip, shivers running up his spine. “You want another?” he asked, voice dipping low, almost teasing now. “You still want me to let one out?”

Luca grinned, eyes glinting behind his goggles. “I can smell it, man. It’s making me crazy.” His gloved fingers slid up the small of Jayden’s back, a soft, possessive motion. “Let me have it, bro. Don’t hold back.”

Jayden’s heart raced, but he didn’t hesitate. His body was warm, all the gas inside him pressing, making him feel full, heavy. With a deep breath, he let go, feeling it start to push, slowly at first, then building in intensity, a thick, sour release slipping out, unmistakable, the eggy smell rich and heavy, cutting through the air. It was rotten, like overcooked eggs left in a pan too long, mixed with the greasy stench of sausages and potatoes still turning in his gut.

The warmth of it sank into the thick layers of his ski gear, filling the space between his body and the ski pants, wrapping around him like a blanket. It didn’t escape immediately—it was trapped, all that foul gas sitting heavily in the padding, saturating the fabric with the stench of his breakfast, settling right into the curve of his tight butt.

Luca inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuck,” he muttered, a low, guttural sound. “That’s bad, Jayden. Really bad.” He shifted closer, leaning in, his breath hot against Jayden’s cheek as he took another deep sniff, nose pressing closer to Jayden’s buns. The smell of the eggs and sausage lingered on Luca’s breath, mingling with the sharp, almost sour tang of his sweat.

Jayden couldn’t help but feel a rush of something strange, a warmth flooding through his chest. “You like it?” he asked, voice low, almost breathless now. “You like how disgusting it smells?”

Luca’s hand slid down again, cupping Jayden’s buns harder, squeezing tight. “Hell yeah,” his nose brushed along Jayden’s butt, drawing in a long, slow breath, inhaling the thick, foul air trapped in the layers of his ski gear while surrounded by the snow of the mountains and the calm atmosphere.

Jayden groaned, leaning back into it, knowing that Luca was practically addicted to the smell. His body felt flush, each inhale of the stench making him feel something darker, something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight anymore. “You really want me to let go again?” Jayden whispered, biting his lip, pushing back against Luca’s touch.

Luca’s fingers dug in harder in the already hard small cheeks. “Give it to me,” he growled, voice low and desperate. “I wanna smell all of it, bro”

—————-

Luca :

Jayden :

I got some dirty motocross boots on my doorstep today with a note from Coach: "Great job on the track, here's a pair of my lucky boots." I I don't know how to feel about a used pair of boots, but Coach is always looking out for me. He knows I go through my gear quickly and these boots are a huge upgrade from my current pair. As the star motocross rider for his racing team, I'm not surprised he wants to show me some love. Some on the team joke he gives me more attention because they think he's crushing on me. That's all jealous bullshit I pay no mind to. Coach knows I don't swing that way.

I walk out to my garage to try on the boots. They're definitely a few sizes too big. Coach is a bigger guy, and I don't see how I could wear these for my next race. I slide into the boots and there's quite a bit of space in them.

"How do you like the new boots?" I look up to see Coach standing in my garage with a smile on his face.

He's never showed up at my place before. I'm more concerned how he found his way here, but feel a little inferior standing in his much bigger boots.

"I just tried them on. Thanks so much man, but they feel a little big on me."

"I expected that, but I have some more stuff for you that might help. Figured I'd drop it off personally." He pulls out a pair of bike pants covered in a layer of dirt. "These may be a bit bigger on you, but try them on. They're my special pair and I've had some great rides in them."

Maybe he's on to something I'm not seeing and this is a learning moment. I slide out of the boots and my jeans to slip on his pants. Just like boots they're hanging off me. I try to slip the boots on the boots again. Maybe the pants will fill in the boots some.

"Uhm, I don't know man. They may get caught up in the bike."

Just after I said it, I start to feel a growing surge of energy coming up through the soles of my feet. It's like static electricity tingling all around them. My feet are beginning to pulse and stretch out to fill in the boots. It feels like someone's massaging them and they're really starting to mold to the boots. My feet must now be a size 13!

The static is moving up my legs and I'm overwhelmed with pleasure. I stifle a moan as they begin to inflate my calves and quads. The pants are closing in and the cloth is now hugging me.

"Of fuckkkk" I'm feeling my ass bubble and fill out the back of the pants. My crotch has lightning running through my dick and I feel it begin to bulge and swell. I'm so fucking horny and look up to see Coach. He's got a smirk on his face and there's something really intriguing about him. I steady myself by leaning on my bike as I'm taking in all of his features. I'm seeing him through a new light and he's actually pretty fucking hot.

What would it feel like if he brushed up against me? Why am I thinking this? Oh fuck there's a jolt of lightning going through my ass. My hole is throbbing with energy and I'm breathing heavy like I'm an animal in heat. I slide the pants down to my ankles and push out my ass. Maybe he'll help a guy out.

He walks up and slides his hands down my boxers to find my hole. I find myself leaning back into his chest and let out a guttural moan as he slides his finger into me. I have pre flowing out of my dick as he begins to rub my prostate from the inside. He's got me hooked, and I'm completely under his control. He leans in and whispers into my ear "Prepare for the best ride of your life."

As a recent college graduate, I’ve been thinking a lot about past regrets I had from both high school and college. Like, I wish I had been more outgoing, where I would join clubs and go out friends rather than working after school and just playing video games. It would have also been nice to be out back in high school too, especially since I’m so far behind in life experiences as a gay man.

I wish I would have done different sports in school too because maybe it could have made me more athletic and attractive rather than being a chubby nerd. It’s hard to have so many regrets in life…

Do you think there’s any way you could help me and give me a new life where I no longer had these regrets?

Life-Changing Game

Not even a few weeks after graduating from college, you come home from shopping – it had been terrible and you just wanted to get home. Some mediocre country singer had a signing in the middle of the mall and even though you had no interest in the really bad music, it playing all the time, you couldn't help but admire this man. The fact that he was topless most of the time and flexing his muscles didn't necessarily make it any better.

You stare at the autograph in your right hand as you unlock your front door with your left. And shake your head. That was stupid. Still, you can't take your eyes off the well-toned man beaming at you on glossy paper. Without noticing, you put your bought food away in the cupboards almost as if in a trance and drop yourself onto your sofa. Your hand instinctively reaches for the controller next to you and your Playstation beeps. You sigh. Then you look down at yourself. Life in college without any real sporting activity and many hours alone in the library or in front of the game console showed its traces on your body. What had been just a slight belly line after high school is now a highly visible soft mass around your midsection. Sullenly, you pick up a roll of flab and wonder how you would be living your life if you had come out of your shell more back then – if you hadn't turned down the few invitations to party or to go to the gym together, if maybe you had approached that one cute guy earlier who you knew was freshly broken up with his boyfriend and that he was a wonderful person.

The screen of your TV flashes, you see the Playstation home screen. With a slight groan, you rise from the sofa and search the game you bought today out of the bag with the munchies for tonight's game night. This new RPG was brand new to the market – a few days ago a friend from college told you about it and had been all excited. But it was already sold out online, the game store had to order it first. But today it finally arrived. You quickly enter the registration code and the game starts downloading. The autograph is lying next to you and you look at it again. And you slip it under one of the sofa cushions. Maybe you could take a closer look at it later...

Your eardrums almost explode when the theme music plays. You flinch and your controller falls to the floor with a dull thud. With a contorted face, you search between the cushions for the remote, but your fingers only hit that autograph again. "Where the hell is that stupid remote?" you mutter as the bass of the music continues to pound your ears. But after what feels like three hours and a slight feeling of numbness, you find the remote under your own butt between the sofa cushions. You hurry to turn down the volume before the cranky old neighbour next door grumbles again like always. You exhale in relief and now, for the very first time, look at the start screen of the video in bright colours.

ULTIMATE COLLEGE EXPERIENCE - FIND YOUR ROLE

"Huh? What?! That's not the game I wanted, is it?!" you say annoyed and look at the packaging. At the corner of the box, the cover slowly comes off and you start pulling it off. Underneath the cover of the game you actually wanted is revealed what almost made your ears bleed just now. "What a load of crap! Great, really great!" you exclaim, dropping into the mountain of pillows behind you. But you already know that you probably won't go back to the shop, because you feel so uncomfortable talking to the staff there. You straighten up again. It doesn't help. You bought the game and spent $30. So, you might as well play it.

You pick up the controller again and press a button. The screen flickers again and you are asked to enter a name. So, this was also something where you were supposed to create a character. At least something. What name should you choose? Your own? Nah. What was the name of that man you were thinking about earlier? You think about it harder. Then you remember. Mitchell.But you use your mother's maiden name as your last name. Glass. As you painstakingly write the name in the boxes, the tight-fitting polo shirts he used to wear come back to your mind. You clear your throat and realise that you are getting a little warm at the thought.

You quickly confirm the name. It seems more and more familiar. Mitchell Glass. You like the name. It feels good. The picture changes, the character creation continues. Now comes the appearance of the character.

You've always been a bit envious of other people in college who looked very different from and hotter than you. So, you decide to build your character the way you would like to be. After all, it's only a game and no one would see this. You are a little excited. Like every time you create a character for a game. You are fascinated by how easy it is to change all the external characteristics with one click. Maybe even a little more than other people.

You click through the categories. First the general. Age. You think about it. 21. If that's college, then at least your character shouldn't have any problems with drinking either. Height. You've always wanted to be a little taller, too. You enter 6''2'. Hair and eye colour. Dark brown. Structure of hair. Wavy. Hairstyle. Short on sides, longer on top. Other hair. Little. Physique. Muscular. Social status. Athlete. Sexuality. Gay, in a relationship, lots of experience. So, you go on and on, you fill in the strengths and weaknesses of your character, you choose special features and hobbies (partying and working out), you spend almost 10 minutes modelling the perfect face – in short, you crafted the perfect man. The man you always wanted to be. In the end, you are very satisfied and look at the very realistic-looking figure languishingly. What you would give to look like that, to have such a character, to be so cool!

One last time you are asked if you want to keep the changes to your character as they are. During the game, the attributes could no longer be changed manually. You think this is a pity, but you want to see this Adonis you have created in action. You confirm the question with yes and a loading screen appears on your TV.

Loading process - Please do not switch off the game while the player is being adjusted.

"Great, then I can quickly get something to eat - wait, the player? The player is being adjusted?", you ask yourself aloud, just as you were about to go into the kitchen, and now you are staring at the screen. A very strange feeling spreads through your body and once again the controller falls out of your hand. There are tingles and tickles everywhere as if someone had given you a few light electric shocks. Your breathing speeds up and sweat pours down your body. Something is wrong here, you think, and you want to pull the plug on the Playstation, but then your clothes suddenly flow to the floor like water and disappear into nothingness.

A little ashamed, you look down at yourself and your eyes widen as your belly, moving with your deep breaths, slowly but surely retracts into your body. In disbelief, you place your trembling hands on your shrinking belly and as your fingertips touch your skin, an incredible feeling shoots through your body. Something you haven't felt like this before. Something you might have felt once or twice, at most, when masturbating alone.

"Oh, God, what's going on here? What - ooooh," you gasp and you feel something begin to stir in your crotch. Your cock stiffens and you put your trembling, sweaty hands around it and again you moan. Everything is so much more sensitive than usual. And as you move your hands up and down, you throw your head back. It feels... indescribable and you are no longer capable of any real clear thought.

The years you spent in college with your nose in books in countless libraries seem to be falling away from you. Your skin tightens a little again, not that you've really looked any older, but with each passing second, you seem more like someone who's just started college.

"Of course, I've only just started! It just took me a little longer at school," you mumble absently, and the loading screen on your TV shows:

First improvements done. Total progress 10%.

A force from inside your body lengthens your spine. It creaks and cracks until you reach 6‘‘2‘. Your whole body structure starts changing into something different as you continue to jack off. Your arms grow thick with muscles and moderately become covered in veins. The result of perpetual lifting and training every week since you were 16 years old. Now, for the first time in your life, you had real muscles! You involuntarily flex your new arms and enjoy the feeling of the power laying inside of them. Your hands follow and grow thicker, your fingers only used to click and scroll, broaden and callouses form on your palms. The change spread to your chest.

The strange force pulls on your before slightly flabby, now bone-thin chest and pulls and pulls until a nice set of pecs protruded from your chest. They went up and down with your heavy breathing. What was happening to you, you want to ask, but you are way too filled with pleasure and enjoyment to speak. Meanwhile, unknowingly to you, the loading bar was at about 35 %.

Something flicks from the inside against your flat belly and one by one well-trained abs appear. Something inside your body pulls on your shoulders and spreads them further apart. Your back muscles strengthen drastically and stature becomes a perfect v-form. The tingling goes down your body and forges your butt into a muscular, well-trained butt and your legs into trunks of muscles if they were made out of clay. Your feet grow a little longer and bigger to support your again higher weight, but now out of pure muscle. For a brief moment, the strange tingling stopped and your head becomes clear for a short time. You look down. Everything except your head was changed into a muscular body of a young, strong man who was not you.

But then that feeling of pleasure shoots through your body again. And your cock is crying out for your hands, which you can't deny it. You gasp. An unpleasant crunch spreads across your face as your features change. Your hair grows shorter at the sides and takes on a dark brown colour. Slowly it becomes slightly wavy. At the same time every hair beneath your chin retracts back into your skin, leaving you almost smooth everywhere. Your eyes burn briefly before your irises also take on a brown colour. Your facial features become a little more angular, stronger, but it is still apparent that you are still quite young. The boyish charm is still visible in contrast to your well-trained body. You have to cough and your Adam’s apple is getting bigger. Your voice is getting stronger and a little deeper so that it can be used to roar easily across a pitch.

By now you are completely absorbed again in stroking your cock the best you can. Between your hands, it grows wider and longer, your balls flooding your body with youthful energy and hormones. You moan. The sound of your deeper voice makes you shudder and moan even more. Confidence seeps from your body, you are proud of your muscles, you know how to use them to impress other men, to flirt with them, to sleep with them. You don't even notice how your knowledge of your college days disappears from your memory and is replaced by other knowledge. Training schedules, your teammates' favourite drinks and the memory of your first date with your steady boyfriend.

The writing on the TV, which by now you don't even notice anymore, so much you enjoy the strength and endurance of your changed body, changes again.

90 % complete. Attention! Final mental changes are incoming.

But just before anything can happen there, the screen goes black. But you don't care. With a loud moan, you feel the pressure in your crotch release and you shoot your seed over your TV. With a loud flicker, the Playstation flares up again as your seed drips onto it, and your surroundings begin to change. Your flat becomes smaller, a second bed appears at the end of the room. Sports trophies, jerseys, protein powder and many other things to train with are spread around the room. Still in the afterglow, a name manifests itself more and more in your head. Mitchell. Mitchell Glass. The life of this man fills your head and with another groan, you fall onto the bed in your dorm room and lose consciousness.

When you wake up a few hours later, you see a person standing next to you, looking down at you.

"You couldn't wait for me to get home again, could you, Mitch?" you hear a voice and you open your eyes. Next to you is a man with headphones in his ears, probably about to go to the gym. You blink your eyes and your look changes from confused to cocky. You tug the other down by his shirt.

"I'm still up for a second round with my hot boyfriend," you murmur, starting to caress his exposed muscular chest. Cody.Your steady boyfriend you met at a party last year. The best relationship you've had so far. And there had been quite a few. But Cody is perfect. Hot, a cool guy and the sex is great. In two hours, your buddies would be coming over. There's a party on campus, after all, and drinks for free. And you want some alone time with your boyfriend beforehand. And even as you pinch his nipples and your mouths lock, the Playstation, with numerous sports games piled messily next to it, displays a final writing before it switches itself off.

Player 100% changed. Full College Experience is ready to start. Thank you for choosing ChangeStation Enterprises!

The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.