The Rings: Jake

Then There Was One

My dad goes on the occasional business trip. I'm still at home since I'm just a senior in high school my brother is a college. Plus the family dog.

My dad always has someone to keep an eye on me when he's out of town. 18 years old or not. Since my brother's college is not that far away. So he had him come home and stay with me. Which I can do without.

When he comes home he stays in his room but his buddy, his roommate comes along and stays in my room. I have to sleep on the couch in the family room and they treat me like their slave.

I'm Tommy. And my brother, jock want to be Paul. I say it, because he's a second-string jock and he hardly ever plays.

When Paul comes home it was brings his roommate Tyler. Tyler's on his school swim team and he's in really great shape. He should take my brother to the gym with him and get him in that kind of shape. But... That we don't have to really worry about that anymore.

This weekend I've got some big plan for both of them.

My brother comes home tosses his stuff into his room, Tyler comes kicks me out of my room.

My brother stocks the fridge with beer for the two of them to drink and sends me out to pick up the food they ordered. My brother doesn't want to pay for delivery.

But that works out fine for me because of my little surprise I have for them.

About a month ago I found an old Apothecary shop and I founded the items I needed to make some changes.

I picked Paul and Tyler's food along with my own. I went to the site counter of the restaurant to check the order and that's when I added the extra ingredients to Paul and Tyler's food.

When I got home they were out in the pool deck waiting for me. I brought them their food out with their beer which I also drugged with this special ingredients.

After about 2 hours Paul and Tyler were ready to go. And my brother Paul was the first one.

I can tell the stuff at taken effects my brother Paul had no fight in him. I dragged him to the side of the garage out of Tyler's view.

He was out of it and just stood there.

I pull off his jeans and underwear. Brother I'm about to becomes an only child and you're going to be part of it.

I stood behind him and being a smaller frame this was going to be easy. I started wrapping my arms around him and squeezing as I pulled myself inside his body.

It was a weird feeling as our bodies merged how I was melting inside him. My body is morphine with his as I was changing. My height started to match his as we became one. My chest sinking into his back. Our arms and legs become one. As I take over his body.

My own body being on the slim side, really didn't have much effect on his body. But once the merger was completed I did see our faces we had combined our to a good looks into a new face.

I was now in control my brother's body . I am now an only child. Since I merged into my brother's body I took his height and his age.

I got dressed to join my guest Tyler.

When I got back the pool deck he was in pretty much the same state as Paul was in. But my plans for his roommate were different than what I had for Paul.

Hey dude why don't you get your suit on we'll go in the pool.

Tyler was moving so slow and totally out of it.

What I slip into the Paul lunch was different than what I've gave Tyler. I'm going to add all this muscle mass to the my body, now have from my brother body.

Tyler just stood there, so i he's helped him by slide off his underwear. He was now completely naked as I lay them down on top of a lawn chair.

I got undressed quickly.

I prime Tyler's body the start the merging process.

Tyler was rock hard at the time and when I sat down on him. I align his firm cock to the opening in my ass. I position myself so it would slide in side me. This step went to smooth so I have a feeling my brother and him maybe doing a little something behind closed doors.

As I lay down on top a Tyler I could feel his dick pulsing as I align myself on top of him. Soon our body started to merge together. Has his lower extremities past to my butt cheeks, our legs merging together. His chest slipping into my back and taking its position. Speaking of positions I can feel my brother's, oh I'm sorry my dick grow bigger and harder. The merging of our bodies becoming quite successful. I could feel Tyler's nose at the back of my head but soon it was passing through emerging in with mine. For a short time I blacked out.

My eyes opened and I found myself being the only one laying in the lawn chair. The merger was completed I could feel the difference in my body already the muscular tone coming through.

I maybe Paul now. But.. I am an intelligent college student having the minds of Tyler, my brother Paul and myself combined into one. Merging all our knowledge and talents together.

I slept well that night in my new bedroom. Pictures of me on the wall. Trophies with my name on it. Being a first string lineman on the college football team.

I was sitting with my feet in the pool when my dad came home a few days later.

Thanks Paul for taking care of the house and the dog. You heading back to school tonight you got classes in the morning and a football game on Friday I'm sure you need to get back for practice.

Even my dad found me as Paul his only son. And this body is amazing. I'm also glad that Tyler's clothes fit me.

An Exciting Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going? I’m confused”

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

“Who are you?” Jason asked suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Player Of The Month

You can support me at ko-fi.com/mrrharper

It did not take long.

Jake got a notification saying he'd been chosen as the Player of the Month from the server he's been playing on for months now. He was very excited about this as he's never got any in-game title like that before.

He clicked on the notification and scrolled through all the buzzwords to see what rewards he would be getting. Weirdly, there was no mention of any items, upgrades or other perks. Instead there was a button. "Brand new personalized experience".

Jack eagerly clicked the button, the only option avaliable to him. At first nothing happened and he just assumed the game was loading some new assests which would probably take some time.

Suddenly he felt some buzzing in his head, followed by a sharp pain and a feeling as if his headset was tightening around his head. He was paralyzed by this for a moment, his mind completely losing track of what was happening with his body as it was experiencing sudden sensory overload.

And then he was back in the game, but something was different. He was transported to Iron Gym, a locaton on the opposite side of the map from he was just a minute ago. He looked down and saw that his avatar had changed completely. He tried to access his character menu to see what had happened but he couldn't, so he walked up to a mirror.

In in he saw someone completely different. A young dude, clearly muscular, wearing a backwards cap and a pair of tight compression shorts. He looked like a gym bro! Not only that, he looked pretty similiar to the NPCs that populated this area of the game world, which Jake found very strange. Something went wrong here.

Wait, where was his headset? Jake put his hands on his face, but couldn't find the bulky gear he had to wear to play. What was going on?

A player came up to Jake and chose the option to initiate the conversation.

Jake #27AD0019 turned around to face Player#A97F4. His eyes flashed red, showing he was now in interaction mode.

"ey dude, ya got any issue with me bruh?" he asked, an arrogant streak in his voice. He then waited for the player to choose a response form the dialog tree, entering one of his idling animations, moving slightly from left to right and flexing his bare chest.

"Damn, that's a new one, didn't see this character before here" the player muttered to himself, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of a new NPC. He then chose a response.

"No, I just noticed you're a regular here and you seem to be doing pretty good, so I wanted to say hi."

#27AD0019's changed his attitude from annoyed and arrogant to proud and cocky. A new animation was triggered by the player's response, making him flash his teeth in a cocky smile, then flex his arms in a double biceps pose.

"hell yeah bruh, am the top dawg here dude"

The player focused on the NPC's muscular arms, while the character kept them in a flexed position up in the air. Player#A97F4 was starting to enjoy the conversation and knew exactly what dialog option he would choose.

"I see, you clearly work out every day. Your form is very impressive."

This prompted another few animations, in which #27AD0019 flexed his arms, chest and legs, showing off his muscles to the player.

"fuck yeah bro! i lift, like, all day dude, gotta work for guns like this bro huhuhuhuhuhuh" He let out a low, dumb laugh. The player grinned as he saw one of the potential responses he had avaliable.

"So not much happening in your life except the gym, right?"

A few calculations happened int he background that determined whether the NPC would respond positively or with anger. The result then took into account the character's intelligence statistic - 3/10. This gave the player the exact result he was looking for.

"huhuhuh yeah dude, am a real gym bro dude, ain't nothin' more important that liftin' bro. head empty, just gains huhuhuhuhuh" The answer triggered another loop of flexing animations.

#27AD0019 was going to be a very popular NPC.

The Bald Bug

The parasite had gotten to work so quickly you hadn’t known how to react. It had all started with that one lick. That one, stupid, horny, misguided, inappropriate, deliciously perfect lick. Yet that one lick is what had gotten you sick.

“Go on,” the older male purred, maybe 10 years your senior at most. “I know you wanna.”

It was a rumor that had been spreading around the gay world everywhere. This new parasite that–unlike AIDS–actually only affected gay men. They called it the “Bald Bug,” and it spread by any bodily fluid. Apparently, the parasite turned any homosexual into a stereotypical straight man; one that was particularly ripe with a libido beyond control and an urge for semination. This bug wanted to conquer, multiply, and spread. 

“Look at them,” he pushed his feet out further. “These bad boys want some…need some attention.”

But it had only been a rumor online. You didn’t really believe in the conspiracy theories. Some accounts had said it hadn’t reached the news because the government had released it, hoping to repopulate after years of low fertility rates. But again, you didn’t give in to the madness. A lot of facts didn’t line up, and others did too conveniently. Anyway, all you saw in this guy was a closeted hookup. And all you saw right now were his big, sweaty feet that were begging to be loved.

“Size 13.” He crossed his arms, getting tired of waiting for me to engage. “You gonna do it or what?”

I lunged, sending one long swipe of my tongue across his feet in a tantalizing movement. I moaned with delight as I tasted the salt that coated his soles sink into my mouth. I shivered in fear when a fiendish smirk wrapped itself around his bearded jaw.

“That’s right, fag,” he chuckled. “Hope you didn’t care for that pretty quiff of yours. That queerdo haircut will be wiped away in no time.”

That was the last part of the rumor. You could tell who had been infected because the victims all shared a particularly notable outcome: every man was left bald. And because no one was working on a cure (because these were all just rumors after all), the effects were irreversible. Your eyes widened as you lifted yourself up and away from his deliciously odorous toes, their beauty now tarnished. You looked him over; his bald head, his confident aura, his very soft cock in his very straight attire. Only now did you notice all the signs. You grabbed your things and ran, his brutish laugh following from behind. You were infected.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, you could already feel that the bug’s work had begun. Your original twinky frame would’ve never been able to carry you the last part of that run. Locking the door behind you, you dropped your things and ran to your bedroom, frantically investigating your body in your full-sized mirror. The shirt you wore now looked more like a crop top, being that it had lifted above the navel and appeared tighter around your upper chest. Your jeans had a similar problem, now landing partially over your enlarging calves when they should have brushed the tops of your feet. The feet that shouldn’t have looked so monstrously large.

Quickly, you grabbed the collar of your tee shirt and ripped it off your body, hoping to save it from a fate you feared could be possible. The fate your jeans suffered moments later. In moments, your height stretched up to well above 6 feet, stretching out the jeans beyond repair as large rips occurred near your newly bulky thighs and muscled bum. Not knowing what else to do, you tore away at the shredded remains of the denim, every pull becoming easier as the parasite expanded the tissues in your arms with strength more appropriate for holding a woman down in an animalistic fertilization.

Luckily, your underwear had been a little more conforming to the stretching nature of your situation. With your newly-callusing hands, you quickly disrobed and watched as your previously-small dick emerged forward. It piled on inch by inch as it thickened outwards, almost like watching a time lapse video of a tree’s growth. Your balls descended further too, yet the visibility of their drooping was becoming more hindered by plumping of your pecs. 

You couldn’t help but be amazed by the new body the bug had created for you, a true stud of a man. A carpet of hair adorned a good lot of your torso, along with your arms and legs. Even your face had changed. A sharp jaw, thick brow, and permanent beard all reeking of masculinity. And speaking of reeking, your body now gave off an odor like no other. Pits, crotch, feet–if it could make a funk that could attract women, then it did. Your body had been crafted into a machine, one the parasite had designed to work as the perfect contamination device, whether through correcting this generation or creating the next.

Caught off guard, you felt a shock course through your body and down to your larger cock. Rolling your eyes backwards, you moved your naked body onto the bed and spread your legs apart. With your head against the headboard, you grabbed your cock and began stroking like you had hundreds of times before. However, this time around, new images were at the forefront of your fantasies. Women were everywhere. Boobs here, pussies there. Big swollen breasts and puckered lips. The women could be nearing 20 or nearing 40. They could have double D’s in the front and/or packed in the back. But the one thing that brought them all together was their ability to become mothers.

Your engorged dick began to spurt at that, the thought causing you to grunt in ecstasy. You continued pumping, no longer caring about the effects of the bug and just wanting to bust a load. Looking in the mirror across from you, your glossy eyes struggled to focus on the scene being reflected. Just like it had been prophesied, the chestnut-brown quiff you so heavily maintained began to falter. The parasite pushed any forms of homosexuality, personality, and resistance out of your body, purging it all through the follicles of hair it vowed to destroy. 

One by one, you observed as your hairs began to evaporate into dust upon your scalp, thinning out before poofing away. You felt your head emptying as your quiff flattened in height, no longer able to support itself. The classic horseshoe formed first, before eventually the entire top of your head was smooth. Things that made you unique, different, and therefore could bring you on a divergent course than the one now planned for you were eliminated with the hairs that still remained along the sides of your head. If the bug was to survive, then its host would have to be completely committed to its existence. And the promise of impregnating tons of women and contaminating faggots made you so. 

With one last huff of air, you watched as the final follicles on your head disappeared. You felt a cool shiver against your newly-exposed bald head, that shiver crawling its way down to your cock and releasing your long-awaited load.

“Oh fu-”

Your words shifted into a groan as your offspring squirt in their milky substance all over your body. You took a second to collect yourself in that moment of post-ecstasy, licking your lips at the epitome of masculinity looking back at you in the mirror. Grabbing the underwear from before, you wiped up the semen and tossed the tainted garment into a gym bag. You could bring it to the gym, knowing it to be the perfect trap for some helpless little homo. 

Grinning, you rubbed a meaty hand over your Cueball head with pride. You snatched an old pair of sweats and grabbed your phone, ready to head out. The gym could come later; you had bald babies to make now.

Making a Model

Travis made a double-take as he walked down the street on his way back from the liquor store in preparation for the house party he’d been invited to. It was a shopfront that caught his eye, one that he could have sworn wasn’t there the day prior.

“‘New You’, huh?”, the little, shiny shopfront intrigued him, “A clothing store, or something?”

Travis pushed on the door and took in the space, it was large and organized. Aisles ran long and contained everything from clothing, costumes, and accessories, to sporting goods, sex toys, and novelty items. The store seemed devoid of other customers, and staff as well.

“What a weird place,” Travis moved along to a counter of trinkets and small goods stacked neatly into stands. Small bottles of what Travis believed to be novelty drinks were scattered through a stepped stand.

“Liquid Wish?” Travis, being a rational 27-year-old man, was not convinced by the magical claims written on the bottle. But, he was interested in something that might sweeten the cheap, unpalatable vodka he’d bought minutes prior.

“Hi there, can I help you with anything?”, a deep voice startled Travis as he turned to see a tall, well-dressed muscular man standing behind him.

“Oh! Um, I was wondering is this, like, safe? And, uh, do you know what it tastes like?”

“Perfectly safe! This one is raspberry if I remember right… Berry of some sort,” the man chuckled as he gestured to the bottle visible through Travis’ grocery bag, “Looks like a big night coming up?”

“Ha, yeah I think so,” Travis laughed, “I think I’ll take this?”

The men moved to the register and Travis handed over what he thought to be an exorbitant $10 for the small amount of pink mixer.

“I should mention, you need to drink it all before making a wish,” the clerk said with a wink. Travis smiled nervously, he couldn’t quite tell if the man was joking or not.

Not long thereafter, Travis found himself at the party with his friend Ben. The two chatted underneath strings of party lights in the large, decorated yard of a stunning home. Travis was making short work of the sweet cordial, mixing it into his cheap vodka, pouring the last of it into what was his fourth drink.

He felt out of place, knowing next to nobody here. It was Ben’s socialite friend-of-a-friend who had dished out the extravagant invites after all. And that was reflected amongst the attendees: attractive, well-dressed models and influencers.

“Who’s this friend of yours again? How does he know so many good-looking people?” Travis asked, incredulous at the attractiveness of the crowd.

“Friend of a friend, actually. I don’t really know them. All I know is he’s some ‘Instagay’ type,” Ben explained.

“Well I guess that explains this crowd,” Travis gestured, “Wish I looked as good as these guys.”

And with those words uttered, Travis felt a flutter in his stomach, not even thinking about the “Liquid Wish” he’d drank or the store clerk’s remarks.

After entertaining themselves for quite a while longer, Travis found himself airing his chest by pulling at his shirt. He felt unusually warm for this time of night.

“Jesus, Trav, you’re sweating like crazy!”, Ben was taken aback by how feverish his friend had become in such a short space of time. Travis reached for his forehead, sweat coating his hand. He could feel the heat radiating off his face.

“I must be coming down with something,” Travis could feel himself burning up, “I think I should go.”

“That’s a good idea, shame though… But thanks for coming, Trav. Let me know how you’re doing,” Ben replied sympathetically.

Travis patted his friend on the shoulder and meandered out of the party. The walk back to his apartment wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity with the stifling fever.

“Shit, it was probably something in that fucking drink,” Travis thought to himself as he stumbled home.

With a sigh of relief, he threw his keys to the side and collapsed onto his bed. He laid atop the sheets groaning at the heat stirring inside him. But that was not all that was stirring. Travis could feel himself becoming hornier by the minute. Before long, his cock was erect and begging for release in his shorts.

His breathing was becoming heavy and rapid. His cock had never felt so hard in his life. He wrinkled the sheets in his fists while his whisper-soft moans grew louder and louder. Until, with a gasp, he launched a load of cum into his jeans. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. “What… the fuck… is going on,” confused, he pulled himself upright and stumbled off the bed before collapsing to the floor on his hands and knees.

“What’s… happening,” Travis mumbled feeling his entire body wind up with sexual tension. A guttural groan bellowed out from his throat as his almost six-foot-tall body began to stretch. His lengthening arms pushed him further off the ground, while his legs slid out along the floor. Unable to hold it back, the now six-foot-three Travis orgasmed again.

The same tension filled Travis’s hands and wound its way up his arms. He could feel his biceps swelling against the short sleeves of his shirt while striations of muscle bulged from his forearms. His hands spread further out along the floor, the palms growing outward. His fingers stretched out longer and larger. His arms, meanwhile, throbbed and tore through his sleeves. His shoulders ballooned outward with muscle, destroying the top of the shirt. Travis’s eyes bulged and his cock fired again at the sight of his massive, muscular arms and the large, manicured hands attached to them.

“Please… f- fuck… what’s happening to m- me,” Travis crashed to the floor and rolled onto his back, bending his back upwards. His nipples ached to be touched as pecs swelled outward from his thin chest. Buttons snapped apart and the shirt fell away as his chest heaved larger. He ran his hands across the mounds feeling a smattering of hair gracing his chest. Moving lower he touched the abs that were throbbing outward from his slimming stomach. His fingers traced newly forming cum gutters down to his hips. He could feel how tight and lean his waist was becoming with his jeans loosening slightly.

Travis attempted to remove himself from the floor. He pushed himself back onto his arms and legs, failing to make further progress when wave after wave of pleasure rocked his cock. Cum unloaded over and over as the six-inch member began to slowly enlarge underneath his pants.

The changes continued their migration, with Travis’s lower half next in line. His ass soared outward, thickening and swelling, tearing the rear of his jeans and underwear. Further down, his legs filled with muscle and railed against the denim. His knees burst from the fabric as his calves bulked up dramatically. Thick, meaty thighs tore at the seams, leaving the jeans almost completely in ruins.

Travis’s growing cock jutted out from the mostly destroyed pants, eliciting a loud moan while it unloaded on the floor. Rolling to the side and pushing his hips toward the ceiling he came again, shooting across his beautifully muscular chest. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: a thicker cock, at least an inch longer, rising skyward.

Travis kicked at the heels of his size ten sneakers, desperate to remove them as they began to constrict his feet. But his lengthening toes bulged against the canvas, tearing through with a rip, followed by a moan. The soles soared into the open air, his arches and heels elongating and widening. Travis could see the toes on his now size thirteens poking above the meaty pecs in front of his face - long, lean, and immaculately cared for.

“God… augh… I- I don’t… understand… w- what’s… happening,” Travis growled feeling his jaw shift. His face shifted sharper and more angular. He clasped at his head, feeling a new nose and mouth. His short hair rustled out longer on the top, styling itself upward into a handsome quiff. His cock throbbed, continuing to creep longer and thicker while larger balls quivered below.

A large hand gripped the tall chest of drawers as Travis pulled himself to his feet and desperately fumbled for the small mirror sitting atop it. He brought it to his face and shuddered at the sight of his stunning new reflection. Trembling, he ran a finger down his cheek and moaned with the confirmation that this was him.

“I- I’m hot?!” Travis stuttered aloud. The eight long, thick inches of cock sticking out from his crotch trembled in excitement at the view. Reluctantly, he grasped his cock in his hand and stroked. He gasped at the sensitivity of the larger head, knowing he wouldn’t last long.

With a gasping roar, Travis came explosively. He fell backward onto his bed, continuing to shoot onto his washboard abs. After the last of his former self was expelled, he stumbled to the bathroom, still in awe at the body he now possessed.

The moment was interrupted by a distant buzz. It was a text from Ben. Travis’s mind raced. How would he explain this? Who would believe him?

He opened the message: “Hope you feel better soon!” Attached below was a selfie of the two of them that Ben had taken earlier in the night, except in the photo Travis looked exactly like he did now. Reality had seemingly shifted around him. But his memory and the tattered clothes lining the floor and hanging from his body told another story. Stunned, Travis flung upon his closet door to see larger, fancier clothes lining the racks and shelves. Still in disbelief, he switched to the camera roll on his phone. All of the old photos of him seemed to reflect his new appearance.

It was only then that he connected the dots: the “Liquid Wish” he’d thought was a gag, followed by the remark that he wished he looked like the attractive men at the party.

“What the fuck was in that stuff,” Travis pondered, thinking back to the store. “But whatever it was, I think I can get used to this,” Travis thought as he glanced in the mirror once more and groped his large package.

--- Originally posted on 2023-03-28 by breedertfs ---

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

That Wish Stinks

“W-wait, let me be more clear!” The blonde twink barely has the chance to lift his hands up, gasping in shock, as a glowing rift appears in front of him.

In a half hour, his boyfriend is coming over to spend a fun evening cuddling in the sheets watching their favorite show together, but to Christopher’s dismay, his older brother is still crashing at his place. What was supposed to be a weekend has turned into a near month of free-loading, and for all that time, the admittedly prissy and tidy twink has been at his absolute limit.

Chad got laid off at his construction job, and their parents moved out of state years ago, so they couldn’t offer help. And as much as Christopher was horrified by the idea of being trapped in a house with his slob older bro again… what else could he do? But now, wading through beer cans and fast food wrappers and choking on the fumes that only a straight jock can produce, his empathy seems more like a mistake than a virtue.

It’s as Christopher is trying to clean under his couch that his fingers come into contact with a very warm and very sticky and EXTREMELY foul smelling sock. His big bro’s cum sock, hardened in some spots but still moist in others. “EWWW!” was all Christopher could cry out, rushing to grab more paper towels and cleaning supplies. In his frustration, going down on both knees to better clean the pig sty, he makes his wish.

“I wish my brother wasn’t the absolute filthiest, most stereotypical, stupid jock in town,” he started sassily, happy that his brother was gone and pumping iron at the gym so that he could express his thoughts openly. But that’s when the rift appeared, a glowing and radiant energy that somehow seemed to stare right at him, pulsing with light.

Wish granted.

Try as he might to protest, not realizing some entity was listening to his ill fated wish, Christopher is powerless as the rift consumes him. It feels like he is being stretched on all sides, legs extending and arms stretching, far past the limits of his older bro. In the rift, he could only stare in horror at a swirling mass of green fumes, reeking of the same foul, gnarly scent of Chad’s farts. The same ones that haunted Christopher in his youth, pretty little face squashed under those hairy, sweaty cheeks after no-consent wrestling.

He’s trying to scream when the gas goes straight down his throat, pouring into his being, making his eyes water as the last remnants of the twink wail and gag. He could down every inch of his boyfriend’s cock, but this was unalike anything he had ever experienced. As he inhaled the fart, his stretched body filled in all the spaces his former lithe frame couldn’t compensate for. His newfound stout, commanding figure bore a striking resemblance to Chad’s, but it seemed to go a step further. More swole, more reeking.

In a flash, his thin jaw cracks into a strong, lantern cleft chin. His shoulders pop up and broaden into boulders, football sized biceps following suit, he can’t help but to flex them. The twink used to hate burly men, Christopher used to hate size and smell and hair, but now Topher is grinning down at his sick ass gains, his huge muscular thighs straining against his sweatpants. His cock stirs, hardening, growing in size and length as the head of it rubs against the fabric, going commando because that’s just who he is. The new him. It throbs with the urge to be released, to penetrate, the flood of testosterone in his senses rewiring all of his urges, erasing every aspect of who he used to be to make room for who he wishes to be.

All he wanted right now was to plow a bimbo and seed her, pass on his majestic jock genes for the future generation, and make her cry out his name as he plays with her tits. He can’t even remember his boyfriend anymore. That’s not something he’s ever considered, not Topher. If you think Chad is a walking stereotype, just meet his brother, that’s what everyone says. Chad’s got nothing on Topher.

The absolute filthiest, most stereotypical, stupid jock in the house.

He settles into reality, raising his arms into his new favorite pose, breathing in deep the scent of his musk. His workout shirt is stained to hell and back, but he’s proud. There’s a bag of fast food junk he smashed earlier for his bulk, and there’s two cum rag socks under the coach he and his little bro share when they gotta let off some steam. Shit, what he wouldn’t give for some pussy right now. Maybe when Chad gets home from his pump Topher can propose a night out to go and satisfy their pythons. He’d be home in about twenty minutes, and Topher has a mean fart brewing in his gut that’s he’s gonna use for a glorious, protein reeking prank to greet him.

Then the doorbell rings, and Topher is surprised to see some fairy stumbling over his words on his porch, asking where his boyfriend is. Topher just chuckles, dim eyes looking sharp for possibly the first time ever. “Hey, uh, I still get two wishes?” A familiar rift started to appear over the frightened queer’s head as Topher, pawing his engorging cock, thought of how great life was doing to be living in his man cave with his bro, the next best thing to himself, and how even still it could be all just a little bit better.

“I wish I had a bimbo side piece standing on my front porch right about now.”

For @ultram0th2 hope you enjoy it. 💙

"Derek, this is insane. Are we really going to break into a gym owner's office in broad daylight?" Stiles asked.

"No we aren't." Derek told the younger man.

"Good, because seriously you had me worried you were losing it dude."

"I'm going to be breaking in while you stand guard." Derek cuts Stiles off.

"I retract my previous comment." Stiles muttered. 

"Derek, I get you're suspicious of this guy, but this isn't an excuse to break into the guy's office." Stiles went on to say only for Derek to ignore him and head towards the gym owner's office.

Derek can hear Stiles whispering insults and curses at him, but the werewolf ignores them. He knows this looks crazy, but he swore he smelt magic on this guy when he walked by him. The scent of magic was strong enough to make Derek worried the guy would be up to something. Since when someone's magical aura is that strong to sense it means they have casted a powerful spell recently. 

So Derek had followed the guy to this gym, the one he realized opened up recently. Derek had called Stiles for back up to keep watch while Derek checked the guy's office out when he left. 

Normally he would do this at night, but Derek felt the strange nagging feeling within him that told him he needed to check out this guy now. 

Picking the lock to the guy's office was simple, Derek looking around to make sure no one was watching him. Glancing back at Sfiles who gave Derek the middle finger, to switch Derek rolled his eyes at the gesture before he steps inside the office.

A few minutes later Derek found nothing. No strong magic auras, no spellbound, no artifacts filled with magic, nothing but mundane office supplies. Derek was confused, he was so sure this man smelt of magic. He must have been mistaken and feels embarrassed over how rash he acted.

"Well, Stiles is going to enjoy being right." Derek murmurs to himself while he heads for the door. 

"Or maybe you were right to suspect something." A deep voice says and Derek turns around to see the gym owner standing there against the back wall of the office he eyes Derek with an amused look as he pushes himself from the wall and stalks towards Derek.

"How did you get in here?" Derek asked.

"Are you really asking me how I got into my own office?" The guy asked. "The question is why are you in my office."

"Not that I'm complaining. I do love seeing a handsome young man like you in here." The older man says while he checks Derek out shamelessly. 

Derek can smell magic on the older man and he asks him why that is.

"Ooh a werewolf. I haven't come across one of you in some time." He says, sounding excited.

"But to ease your worries I'm not up to any evil doing. I'm simply using my magic to help create loyal employees to work for me. Nothing nefarious about a man wanting to make sure he gets good employees is there?" He asked.

Derek stares at the man with a look of disbelief. Surely this man wasn't serious was he? By the way the guy was looking at Derek and Derek can tell he was telling the truth.

"You can't just mess with people with magic." Derek says.

"Sure I can, it's so easy." The man says smugly.

"Here, how about a demonstration." He adds and grins wider. Derek feels a cold chill go down his spine and he groans. His eyes go wide when his torso suddenly erupts with solid pounds of pure muscle that force his shirt to tear apart at the seams.

His pecs balloon outwards into a set of large muscle tits that already feel so sensitive to touch and bounce when he walks.

"Bro, the fuck ya doin to me?!" Derek shouts. His voice sounds different. Deeper than it was just a few moments ago. 

"You wanted to snoop around my office to uncover my dark secret, so I'm just rewarding you by making you one of my modeled employees."

"You're going to be such a hot fucking personal trainer. Aren't you Devon?" The man says.

"Of course I am boss." Derek blurts out to reply without wanting to. He wanted to tell the guy his name was Derek, but instead he cradles his head in hisnhands and moans when his head aches. He can feel a thick cloudy haze fog his mind, he can feel his memories flicker in his mind. Seeing flashes of foreign memories fill his mind. 

Derek's hair grows a little longer and turns blond. His face ripples with his features sharpening and becoming more defined till Derek now looks like the kind of guy someone can expect to find working at a gym.

Derek holds onto his last fragments of his former self, refusing to let them fade from his mind. But when the man he called boss comes up to him. Gently touching Derek's shoulder and making him feel a spark of warmth traverse through him does that last part of Derek get locked away in the dark corners of his own mind. 

"Ready to get put there and put our new clients to work?" The boss asked.

"I'll be sure to work them real good for ya boss." Devon says proudly. When he turns away to leave he doesn't notice his torn and tattered clothes repair into a yellow tank top that shows off his impressive bulk fairly well. Along with sweatpants that hug his large ass and outline his fat cock for all to see.

Devon walks out of the office and takes a few steps when a skinny man approaches him.

"Hey, did you happen to see a dark haired guy with a scowl in there?" The smaller man asked.

"Sorry Broski." Devon tells him and bumps his shoulder into the smaller guys when he walks by. Not aware of the confused look he gets from the smaller man who watches Devon head out to the gym's main floor while he rubs his tingling shoulder from where Devon touched it. 

Branded

---

Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

---

Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

Great mental change/hypnosis story.

Original post is dead. Use the "Keep reading" provided by @imsrtman to read the rest.

I’m a dumb jock

God, I ached all over. You’d think that a first workout at the gym wouldn’t hurt so much the day after. It felt like I’d slept in a pretzel position, and my head was pounding. All I wanted to do was shed a few pounds from my overweight frame, and it looked like I had my work cut out from me.

I craned my neck, it was so sore. It had to be super early in the morning, my alarm hadn’t gone off. But as my alertness set in for the day, I realized the ceiling light was on.

Why had I slept with the ceiling light on? I bolted upright, which led to some pain and stiffness, but I disregarded it as I looked around the room. Which was definitely not my room. It maybe wasn’t anyone’s room, the walls were all gray and boring, save for a mirror on the wall. Also strange is that there wasn’t a door.

Naturally, being abducted I started to freak out. What the hell was going on? My fears started spinning around my head. I wasn’t sore because of working out, I was sore because I was abducted! I fervently looked around the room for any escape, trying to evaluate my situation.

Dumb jocks don’t panic.

What? Where did that come from? There was no speaker, and I didn’t hear anything out loud.

Dumb jocks don’t panic.

Keep reading

Better use of a twink

--- Originally posted on 2024-07-12 by breedertfs ---

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

Clark couldn’t stop pounding his cock in and out of the warm, slick sex toy that was now sprawled out in front of him. A black silicone body with an arched back like a bimbo presenting her ass in the air, not to mention the vertical slit opening and deliciously tight, lubed rubber folds that lined the inside. Clark moaned loudly and dumbly, hands pressing down on the leather and shoving it into his sweaty sheets, drool trickling out of his mouth, hips bucking back and forth as the last of his changes occur.

A chinstrap beard on his jaw, backwards ball cap on his head, thoughts full of fat bouncing tits and leaking pussies and blasting his load deep inside a bitch’s womb - unfortunately, he forgets entirely about the sweet, smooth twink he once loved, the one he was just celebrating his anniversary with only moments before the flash of red light came through their bedroom window and shone on them, and that was when Clark started bulking up and feeling horny and talking like a total douche despite his internal protests; “bro, I need to fuckin’ breed!”

He insisted, pleaded, pressing down on his skinny little boyfriend and holding him in place as his slender limbs were slurped back into his compacting body, head and face smoothing out as his tears turned into old cum stains, taking a vaguely feminine shape simply meant to help alpha men assert their dominance even in the mere act of jacking off their cocks.

When Clark shoots his load all over the sex toy’s insides, it forgets ever being anything more than its Master’s convenient fuck toy, enjoying the sensation of the cum cooling inside of it but feeling pity that the alpha seed was wasted on it. Master deserves to breed the real thing.