#gay to straight
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The Society: Chad
The heavy, oak door creaked open as Eric stepped into the dimly lit room, his heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The invitation had been mysterious, arriving in an unmarked envelope with a gold-embossed seal. It spoke of a society that could help him achieve his greatest ambitions. Despite his reservations, Eric's drive to effect meaningful change compelled him to investigate further.
The room was lavishly decorated, a stark contrast to the dim lighting. Rich, mahogany walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and portraits of men from various eras, their eyes seeming to follow him as he moved. At the far end of the room, a long table stretched out, laden with an array of decadent food and drink. At the head of the table sat Jason, his youthful visage betraying an ageless wisdom. His eyes, sharp and knowing, locked onto Eric with a calculating intensity.
"Welcome, Eric," Jason said, his voice smooth and commanding. "We've been expecting you."
Eric hesitated, his instincts screaming caution, but he was determined to see this through. He had faced tougher crowds and more hostile environments in his political career. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room and took a seat opposite Jason.
"You've come a long way, my friend," Jason continued, leaning forward. "Your work in New York has not gone unnoticed. Your passion, your dedication to equality and justice—these are qualities we value deeply in The Society."
Eric frowned slightly, unsure where this was leading. "Thank you, but I'm not sure what this has to do with your... organization."
Jason's smile widened, a glint of something almost predatory in his eyes. "The Society exists to elevate men, to help them achieve their fullest potential. We believe in harnessing the unique strengths of individuals like yourself to create a better world. But sometimes, the path to greatness requires a transformation."
"Transformation?" Eric echoed, his unease growing. "What kind of transformation are we talking about?"
Jason stood and began to pace, his movements graceful and deliberate. "We use a blend of ancient practices and modern techniques, a touch of the occult, to help men tap into their deepest strengths. It's a process, but I assure you, the results are extraordinary."
Eric's skepticism was evident, but he couldn't deny the allure of the promise. "And what do you expect in return?"
"Your loyalty, your commitment to our cause," Jason replied smoothly. "We have the power to amplify your voice, to expand your influence far beyond what you could achieve alone. But you must be willing to embrace the change."
A shiver ran down Eric's spine. There was something both thrilling and terrifying about the proposition. He had always believed in the power of transformation, in personal growth and evolution. But the idea of subjecting himself to the unknown methods of The Society was daunting.
"And if I refuse?" Eric asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Jason stopped pacing and fixed Eric with a piercing gaze. "If you refuse, you continue on your current path, making incremental changes, fighting battles one at a time. But if you accept, you gain the power to reshape society on a grand scale."
The weight of the decision hung heavily in the air. Eric's mind raced, considering the implications. He had dedicated his life to making the world a better place, to fighting for those who couldn't fight for themselves. The opportunity to amplify his efforts was tempting, almost irresistibly so.
With a deep breath, Eric nodded. "Alright. I'll do it."
Jason's smile was almost triumphant. "Excellent. The process will begin immediately. Trust in the journey, Eric. The man you will become is someone you could never have imagined."
As the shadows in the room seemed to deepen and swirl around him, Eric couldn't shake the feeling that he had just crossed a threshold from which there would be no return.
As the room’s ambiance grew more surreal, a conservatively dressed man approached Eric, carrying a silver tray with a single, ornate goblet. The liquid inside shimmered with an ethereal glow, casting faint, dancing reflections on the dark wood of the table.
Jason gestured toward the goblet. “Drink, and the transformation will commence.”
Eric took the goblet, its cool metal sending a shiver through his fingers. He hesitated for a moment, then, with a resolve born of desperation and ambition, he brought it to his lips and drank deeply. The liquid was surprisingly warm, with a rich, spicy flavor that seemed to ignite a fire within his chest.
Almost immediately, Eric felt a strange sensation ripple through his body. His heart began to race, and he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself as an intense heat spread from his core. He watched in awe as his arms began to bulge, muscles swelling and expanding, veins rising to the surface of his skin. His fingers, once slender and artistic, thickened, the nails becoming more rugged and defined.
His shirt strained against his growing frame, seams stretching and then tearing as his chest broadened and his shoulders widened. He could feel his spine straightening, his posture shifting from the slightly stooped stance of someone always leaning over books or a guitar to the confident, commanding presence of an athlete. Eric’s legs, too, transformed, his thighs and calves gaining definition and power.
As the physical changes continued, Eric glanced at his reflection in a nearby polished surface. He watched, mesmerized, as the lines and wrinkles that had begun to mark his face vanished, replaced by smooth, taut skin. His features, once gentle and expressive, sharpened into a more chiseled, rugged handsomeness. His hair, which had started to show the first hints of gray, darkened to a rich, youthful hue.
Eric’s breathing quickened, a mix of exhilaration and fear surging through him. He flexed his hands, feeling the newfound strength coursing through his body. The sensation was intoxicating, yet disorienting. He looked down at himself, hardly recognizing the muscular, youthful figure he had become. His clothes, now in tatters, hung loosely from his transformed frame.
“What’s happening to me?” Eric gasped, his voice deeper and more resonant than before.
Jason’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You are becoming your most powerful self, Eric. The potential that lay dormant within you is being unlocked. Embrace it.”
Eric took a step back, nearly stumbling as he adjusted to his altered center of gravity. He felt a rush of conflicting emotions—pride in his newfound strength, confusion at the rapid changes, and a creeping sense of loss for the person he once was. He touched his face, his fingers tracing the unfamiliar contours of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Is this really me?” he murmured, a mixture of wonder and trepidation in his tone.
Jason nodded. “This is the beginning, Eric. You are now in a position to wield the influence and power necessary to reshape society. The Society will guide you, but it is up to you to harness your potential.”
As the initial shock of the transformation began to wear off, Eric felt a burgeoning confidence rising within him. He straightened to his full height, feeling a sense of power and capability he had never known before. The memories of his former self—his ideals, his passions—remained, but they were now infused with a newfound vigor and determination.
“I… I think I understand,” Eric said slowly, his voice steadying. “I can do more. Be more.”
Jason’s smile was approving. “Exactly. You are now ready to embark on the next phase of your journey. The Society will support you, but remember, true change comes from within.”
Eric nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. He glanced once more at his reflection, a sense of awe filling him at the sight of the powerful, confident young man staring back. The transformation was complete, but his journey was just beginning.
As he followed Jason out of the room, Eric couldn’t help but feel that his life, and his mission, had irrevocably changed. The world would soon meet a new Eric—one who was ready to seize his destiny and reshape the world in ways he had never before imagined.
As Eric stepped out of the dimly lit room, he was led into a spacious, opulently furnished lounge where several men were gathered, engaged in animated conversation. Their attire ranged from tailored suits to casual yet expensive-looking attire, each man exuding confidence and authority. The air was thick with the aroma of cigars and expensive whiskey, adding to the heady atmosphere.
Jason introduced Eric to the group, who greeted him with hearty handshakes and claps on the back. He could sense their approval, their eyes appraising his transformed physique. They began to talk, their voices a mix of joviality and intensity.
“So, Eric,” one man said, offering him a glass of whiskey, “what do you think about the state of masculinity today?”
Eric took the glass, his mind still buzzing from the transformation. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s important to have a balanced approach, respecting everyone’s rights and identities.”
The men exchanged glances, a few smirks playing on their lips. Another man, broad-shouldered and brash, leaned forward. “Sure, but what about real men? Guys who aren’t afraid to speak their minds, take charge, and push back against all this politically correct nonsense?”
Eric felt a flicker of discomfort but also a strange pull. He had always believed in respectful discourse, yet there was something compelling about the raw confidence these men exuded. “I suppose there’s value in being direct and assertive,” he conceded.
The conversation shifted, each man sharing his vision of the ideal fraternity—a place for strong, outspoken men who didn’t shy away from controversy. They painted a picture of a loud, boisterous brotherhood, where camaraderie was forged through shared challenges and unfiltered honesty.
“We need leaders who aren’t afraid to ruffle feathers,” one man declared. “Someone who can handle the banter, the parties, and still keep everyone in line. A real alpha.”
Eric found himself nodding along, the initial resistance in his mind weakening. The more they spoke, the more their words resonated with a primal part of him. His memories of advocating for inclusivity and respect seemed to blur, replaced by an emerging desire to fit in with these powerful men.
Another man chimed in, his tone conspiratorial. “Think about it, Eric. A leader who can throw back shots, tell it like it is, and doesn’t give a damn about stepping on toes. That’s what we need. Someone who can rally the guys and lead by example. No more of this sensitive, touchy-feely stuff.”
Eric felt a strange warmth in his chest, a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he was craving. The idea of leading such a group, of embodying this brash, unapologetic masculinity, began to appeal to him. His thoughts grew clouded, his previous convictions fading like a distant dream.
“Yeah,” Eric found himself saying, a new conviction in his voice. “Guys need to be able to express themselves without holding back. It’s about being real, being honest.”
The men cheered, raising their glasses in a toast. “Now you’re talking, Eric! Welcome to the brotherhood.”
As the night wore on, Eric’s transformation continued, not just physically but mentally. His language grew coarser, his laughter louder. He found himself embracing the crude jokes, the competitive banter, and the boisterous energy of the group. The liberal ideals he once held dear seemed naïve and distant, replaced by a burgeoning belief in the raw, unfiltered masculinity these men championed.
By the end of the evening, Eric felt like a different person. The gentle, artistic politician from New York was gone, replaced by a loud-mouthed, confident young man who was ready to lead this new fraternity. He reveled in the approval of his new peers, eager to prove himself in this new role.
As he left the lounge, Eric’s thoughts were consumed with plans for the future. He envisioned a fraternity that was strong, outspoken, and unapologetically masculine. He would be the leader they needed, the one who could bring their vision to life. And in doing so, he would reshape not only his destiny but the very fabric of society.
The Society had succeeded in molding him into their ideal—an agent of their grand design, ready to fight for what they deemed the proper way of life.
The following morning, Eric—or “Chad” as the men had started to call him—awoke in a luxurious suite, his mind foggy from the previous night’s revelry. The remnants of his former self felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the new, overpowering personality that had emerged. He glanced in the mirror and saw not the thoughtful, compassionate politician, but a rugged, muscular young man with a carefree, almost vacant expression.
He flexed his biceps, admiring the bulging muscles and feeling a surge of pride. The faint echoes of his past ideals and passions were buried deep beneath layers of newfound bravado and arrogance. His once bright, earnest eyes now gleamed with a mischievous, almost predatory glint.
As he joined the other men for breakfast, the transformation was complete. They greeted him with hearty slaps on the back and crude jokes, which he met with a dumb, hearty giggle that surprised even himself. It felt good to be accepted, to be one of them. He reveled in their approval, the camaraderie intoxicating.
“Morning, Chad!” one of the men called out. “Ready for another day of setting the world straight?”
“Hell yeah, bro!” Chad replied, his voice booming with newfound confidence. He downed a shot of whiskey that was handed to him, not even flinching at the burn. “Let’s show these losers how real men roll!”
The men laughed, a raucous sound that filled the room. One of them, a burly guy with a thick beard, leaned over and started telling a crude, homophobic joke. Chad felt a flicker of something—perhaps a distant echo of the old Eric—but it was quickly drowned out by the need to fit in, to be part of the group.
As the punchline hit, Chad let out a loud, stupid laugh, slapping his knee. The others roared with laughter too, and he felt a twisted sense of pride at their approval. The thoughtful, compassionate Eric who had championed civil rights and equality was gone, replaced by this new persona that thrived on crude humor and superficial charm.
Throughout the day, Chad’s behavior continued to reflect his transformation. He ogled women openly, making lewd comments and reveling in the attention he received. His interactions were marked by a blatant disregard for the respect and equality he once fervently championed. Women were now mere playthings, objects for his amusement.
He started filming TikTok videos with the other guys, their content filled with dumb, crude jokes and obnoxious behavior. They staged pranks, made sexist comments, and mocked those who didn’t fit their mold of “real men.” The videos quickly gained traction, their follower count skyrocketing as they played to the lowest common denominator.
One afternoon, as they lounged around a pool, filming yet another video, Chad caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water. For a fleeting moment, the face staring back at him was not just the brash, muscular frat bro but also a faint echo of who he used to be. The guitar-playing, theater-loving advocate for equality and justice. But as quickly as the thought came, it was drowned out by the booming laughter of his new friends and the thrill of their approval.
“Yo, Chad, get over here! We need you for this next prank!” one of them called out.
Chad grinned, letting the remnants of his former self slip away completely. “Coming, bro!” he shouted, rushing over with a swagger.
The transformation was complete. The sweet, compassionate Eric was gone, replaced by a 22-year-old, dumb-as-nails frat bro who lived for parties, crude jokes, and superficial thrills. The Society had molded him into their ideal—a loud, obnoxious figurehead for their new frat house, ready to spread their vision of a “proper” way of life. And Chad embraced it all with open arms, leaving behind any trace of the man he once was.
He now stood tall and broad-shouldered, his muscular frame a testament to hours spent at the gym, sculpting his body into a vision of hyper-masculine strength. His biceps bulged under the tight sleeves of his shirt, and his chest stretched the fabric to its limits.
Gone were the casual, artistic clothes Eric used to favor. Chad’s wardrobe was now a gaudy display of designer brands and ostentatious style. Today, he wore a skin-tight, bright red polo shirt with a large logo emblazoned on the chest, the buttons straining against his broad pectorals. Around his neck hung a heavy, gold cross necklace that gleamed under the light, a symbol of his newfound conservative identity.
His jeans were equally tight, designed to show off his muscular legs and sculpted rear. They were distressed, with strategic rips that highlighted his tan skin. On his feet, he wore expensive, brightly colored sneakers that added an extra inch to his already imposing height. His belt had a large, flashy buckle, the kind that drew attention and signaled his new, brash persona.
Chad’s face had undergone just as dramatic a change. His once gentle, expressive features were now sharp and defined. He sported a meticulously groomed chinstrap beard, a style that framed his jawline and added to his overall look of a stereotypical douchebag. His hair was gelled back in a style that screamed for attention, perfectly complementing his overall appearance.
A pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses often perched on his head or over his eyes, completing the ensemble. His skin had a perpetual tan, either from hours spent in the sun or a tanning booth, further enhancing the look of a man who prioritized appearances above all else.
Chad’s demeanor matched his appearance. He moved with a swagger, his every step exuding confidence and arrogance. His loud, boisterous laughter often filled the room, accompanied by crude jokes and derogatory comments. He reveled in the attention and admiration of his new peers, basking in their approval.
To those who knew Eric, Chad was unrecognizable. The sweet, thoughtful young politician who once championed equality and social justice had been completely replaced. Chad was now the embodiment of the Society's ideal—a straight, Republican douchebag with big muscles, gaudy clothes, a cross necklace, and a chinstrap beard. He lived for the parties, the attention, and the superficial thrills, leaving behind any trace of his former self in the process.
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Quality Time
*PING* Rocco looked down and smiles. He'd been wondering what Carlo and their father had been up to for the past week. Ever since their mother left a couple of years back, their father had been relatively distant- choosing to spend his hours away from the office at the gym instead of at home with his sons. To be fair, Rocco had left the house at 18, and now at 24 he wasn't home as often as he'd hoped. Nonetheless, it took both boys by shock when their relatively distant father decided to take a month off of work to spend some "quality time" with his sons. Carlo got the first two weeks, and Rocco would have the second. What they were in for, their father wouldn't say.
Hey, Roc. Dad wants us all to meet up tonight. We're at the gym on Broad Street, meet us there in 30 minutes.
The text was odd, definitely different than the normally chipper tone his brother is known for having. There wasn't even a single emoji... Rocco had hoped that everything would go well, but from the curtness of Carlo's message, it wasn't looking good. He sighed, walking his lanky ass over to the closet and throwing on some clothes, wasting no time making the 20 minute walk down to Broad street. The dim neon glow of the Planet Jacked sign illuminated the front of the strip mall; at 9PM on a Wednesday, the gym was the only business open compared to the vacant suites and GameStop next door.
Rocco pulled open the door, pulling out his phone to text Carlo that he'd arrived. The response was immediate:
In the kettlebell room. Hurry up.
Something did feel off, but Rocco had dismissed it as an irritated Carlo trying to pawn their gruff and macho dad off on him. Neither were "manly men" by their father's standards, not that he'd ever treated them poorly by any means. It just meant that they had little to nigh in common with eachother, and little to build a very "buddy buddy" relationship on. But, at least he was making an effort.
Rocco made his way through the gym floor, weaving through benches and weight machines to the double glass doors that houses the calisthenics room. He pushed open the door, and walked inside. Right off the bat, his suspicions that something was off were proven to be justified as he saw his brother flexing in the mirror. Or at least, he thought it was his brother. The man had Carlo's likeness: his short stature, his green eyes, the black and green headphones... but this was not his brother.
Carlo was easily 100 lbs of muscle heavier than when he'd left with their father on Monday morning. His hair was buzzed short, his formerly friendly face now scowled an aggressive smoulder, his arms and legs were bursting with hard muscle. Compared to the 5'2" skinny 19 year old Rocco had known, this man might as well have been a stranger.
"Get my bag over there, gotta shower and change." His voice was harsh, gruff... as if he'd smoked eight cigars before working out. He remained flexing in the mirror, as Rocco stood there gobsmacked. His eyes quickly shifted from his physique to his brother standing perplexed at the door. "You gonna sit and stare or are we gonna get going?" Rocco slowly walked over to Carlo's gym bag, picking it up and straining to shlep it over his shoulder. "Jesus, Roc. We've got to get you into the gym. C'mon, let's go." Carlo turned and walked out of the room, with Rocco hastening to meet his pace.
"Uh, Carlo... Did you... take something? I mean, I'm not accusing you of anything, but how did you..."
"Get this fuckin' jacked? Dad helped out a bit." Outside of Rocco's eyesight, Carlo smirked devilishly. He sneered, hocking a mouthful of spit onto the garbage can. Rocco nearly dropped the bag and bolted. This couldn't be the sweet, naive little brother he'd grown up with. If anything, he was acting more like their father than himself. As they entered the locker room, Carlo stopped at the mirror again, pinching his chin as if he were checking himself out in the mirror. "Yeah, Dad was saying he wanted me to try some pussy this week, and that girls liked a guy with guns. Heh, it worked." He flexed his massive arms, the putrid scent of heavy unwashed musk wafted from his pits as he did. Rocco pinched his nose, dropping the gym bag onto the bench.
"Since when have you been interested in girls?" Rocco spoke with genuine concern in his voice. Carlo had been an out and proud gay man for years now. Their father never understood it, but it never really bothered him any. To him, as long as his sons were 'getting some' then all was well. But this, combined with Carlo's inflated ego and body...
"Since I felt like it. Thought I'd give breedin' a try. After six girls this week, I'm tuckered out." Carlo sauntered toward the shower stalls, tossing his hat and headphones to his brother before turning to face him. "Dad will be here in a minute, just wait here." With that, he walked into the stall, and Rocco could hear the water starting to flow. He fell backward onto the bench, awestruck. Turning to the bag, Rocco imagined vials and vials of steroids and testosterone hiding within. It was the only logical explanation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unzipped the bag, and ripped the top open to reveal:
Nothing. Carlos' normal street clothes, albeit a bit stretched out now, and an empty shaker bottle. No drugs, no syringes, nothing incriminating whatsoever. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn't due to roid rage.
"NNNNUGUUHHHH" Carlo's voice echoed in the empty locker room over the sound of the showerhead. Rocco stood up quickly, darting toward the shower stalls. Before he could ask if his brother was okay, the noises began. Wet noises- unaffiliated with the running shower. Rocco slowly crept closer, and the sounds had become clearer. Slimy schlorps and squelches combined with Carlo's moans of seeming pleasure. Was he fucking a pocket pussy? Surely not, he assumed, though in the back of his mind, the brother he'd seen was not the Carlo he knew. "uuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNAGHHHHHH!" One final moan and a rubbery slurp, and the room was silent again.
Rocco quickly rushed to the end stall, ready to rip the white curtain open, only for it to open on it's own: revealing the hulking figure of his father. The shock was palpable, as thick as the steam in the air. His father towered above him, as he always did, a massive slab of hard meat with a face. Sweat dripped from every part of his hulking body, and his face was already plastered with a surprised expression. As if he weren't expecting Rocco to see him yet.
"Dad... Is Carlo oka..." Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw his brother slumped over on the shower seat, passed out under the hot streams of water: still in the shorts and running shoes he'd been wearing moments ago. His muscled body could barely bend at the waist, so his limp torso sat at a slight angle to the rest of his body. Rocco turned to his father, whose expression hadn't yet changed.
"I said I'd be there in a minute, Roc." The limber young man tried to rush to his passed out brother, only for the iron grip of his father to stop him in his tracks. "He'll be fine. He'll wake up just the way you know him, with a couple of extra pounds. Don't you worry."
"Dad, what the fuck is going on?" Rocco shouted at his father, whose brows began to furrow. The hulking man grabbed the white curtain, shutting it behind his son. Slowly the look of shock turned to one of seriousness, and a twinge of nervousness shot down Rocco's spine.
"I'm on vacation, Roc. With my boy. And now it's your turn to spend some time with your old man." Rocco took a step back, confused and anxious. "You're what, 24 now? Let me tell you something, Roc. When you hit 50, it doesn't matter if you're the sexiest god damn man alive- women just don't look at you the same. They take one look at you and see a stacked old man. They look at you like you're disgusting, Roc. I just wanted things to be the way they used to, when I was your age." Another step backward, and Rocco felt himself pinned against the wall. "It doesn't hurt. Carlo said it felt damn good. He'll wake up feelin' like a million bucks and go right back to sticking that greasy pole into some man ass. Might even be better than before. But you..." His father leaned in against the wall, the wafting stench of his BO encircling the two. "You swing both ways. So will you do your pop a favor, Roc?" Rocco swallowed his spit, as his father leaned in until they stood inches from eacother, eye to eye.
"W... What kind of favor?"
"Let me be young again. Just for a couple weeks. I'll hop back in Carlo if things get out of hand, he's already said he's good with it. Let your old man take you for a spin, show you how I used to do it back in the day. Then at the end of the month, I hop right out. Deal?" His father stuck his hand out, waiting for him to accept this insane deal. Rocco turned to his brother, slowly coming back to consciousness.
"... One week. And if you don't fuck things up, I'll think about the other two." His father smiled as Rocco shook his hand in agreement.
"Turn around, boy. And just take some deep breaths." Rocco did as he was told, slowly turning around and placing his hand onto the brown tiled wall. He could hear Carlo coming to, and hearing the wet clap of his father's hands rubbing together. "Alright, boy. It's gonna be tight, deep breath!" Rocco took a slow inhale, feeling a strange tingling sensation as he felt his father's hands on his bony shoulderblades. As he exhaled, he could feel the calloused hands slowly sink into his back. "Ohhhh, fuck." His father's gravelly bass voice growled in the cavernous room, soaring above the wet schlorps of his huge arms slowly sinking deeper into his son. Rocco watched as his father's hands appeared beneath the skin of his arms, the outline of his fingers sliding down his biceps and forearms was quickly followed by the sounds of rubbery creaks as his father's considerable muscles slid into his own. Bones cracked and skin stretched as powerful biceps and firm forearms swelled with the invasion, as his father's hands slipped into his own like two tight gloves. His meaty fingers cracked under their own volition, as his father flexed his new triceps.
"Da... Dad? Oh fuck, Roc! It's your turn now, huh, bro?" Carlo's chipper voice cut through the wet sloshing as his father stepped forward, shoving his huge sweaty feet forward into Rocco's heels, immediately swelling to fit his size 14 boats. His father's ripe foot sweat started to pour from his soles while his calves started to sink in as well. "Feels great, right? I mean look at me? Dad promised a rockin' bod, and I mean, fuck! What guy is gonna turn me down now?" Rocco continued his deep breaths, trying to ignore his brother's bizarrely normal demeanor.
"Boy, you remember what your dad taught you. Take control, and fuck hard. They'll be beggin' for that cock." As the words left his father's mouth, he thrust his groin against Rocco's rear, letting his son's skin wrap around his thick ass as he slid his beer can dick into the sheath of his boy's- quickly swelling thick and musky as his balls grew into the size of clementines.
"Roc, just wait. Dad's gonna take good care of you. We're closer than ever, right pop?" His father's hard, hairy torso sank quickly into Rocco, his back expanding as his body fully enveloped his father up to their necks. Massive, juicy pecs and washboard abs pressed against his taut skin, and sputterings of the old man's hair started to sprout across his legs, arms, and chest. Rocco looked down at his massive body, no longer under his control, inflated with his father's stature. He could feel the scratchy scruff of the old man's beard against the nape of his neck.
"Alright, boy. Let me just slide..." He felt his father's nose press against the back of his head, and as it sank in, his vision became fuzzy. "Right..." His neck bulged and stretched, his jaw clenched and sharpened. "On..." His hair grew thick and messy, his eyebrows fuller and lower. As the last of his head was swallowed by the back of Rocco's head, a final crack of his neck and a slow exhale signaled that Rocco had already sank into the recesses of his mind. Facial hair sprouted across his chiseled jawline, as he smiled his pearly white teeth. "In." His father's gravelly tone now bellowed deep from within. He pushed himself off the wall, stretching his now 6'3" body, dripping in his old man's fragrant sweat. Turning to Carlo, he raised his eyebrow.
"Alright, boy. Let's go get some ass."
---
"Yeah, this is my brother's place, we'll be alone here. Don't you worry!" Carlo led the couple into Rocco's apartment, the boyfriend ogling his juicy ass as they walked inside. "Yeah, he's in the other room. This way." Carlo smiled as he threw his arm around the duo, the woman blushing as she turned to him.
"You sure he's down for this?" Carlo only smirked as he opened the door to the bedroom, revealing 'Rocco' in all his glory, swiping through the endless supply of thirsty messages on his Taimi. The couple's jaws dropped at the very sight of him, fresh from the gym, smelling of a locker room right after a basketball tournament.
"Oh wow... Uh, Hi there... I'm Victoria and this is Ollie..." 'Rocco' barely looked up from his phone, picking up his ripe gym shoe and socks, and tossing them to Ollie.
"Sniff, boy. When you're done with that, you can do the same for my brother." The boyfriend eagerly started to huff the stinking sock, moaning in pleasure as he did. "And you..." He put his phone down onto the table, turning to Victoria with a wry smirk. "Come show daddy some love."
#male possession#male transformation#body transformation#original#transformation#jockification#musk#body possession#musky#father to son#familial transformation#familial possession#muscle tf#male tf#male merging#merging#body merging#bisexual#gay to straight
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Nothing Says Summer Like a Pool Party
Never in a million years did Lucas expect his homophobic next-door neighbor, Miguel, to call a truce, with a pride-themed pool part of all things. Every gay within a 10-mile radius showed up, ready to party and let loose, which they did, but things took a twist when Miguel's "special" margaritas hit everyone. Within seconds, all the gays went from seductively dancing with each other to hitting on any female they could find. Instead of splashing in the pool, every fag was deep diving in tight wet pussy.
Lucas couldn't believe what he was doing, but it felt so fucking good. He could eat her out all day. It wouldn't be till the following morning that Miguel revealed he laced the margaritas with a powerful conversion powder. Every fag that attended the party ended up 100% straight, permanently. Lucas was pissed, but his cock sure wasn't.
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Like father like son, Part 1
Father P.O.V.
My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.
If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.
After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.
On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"
Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you
We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard
We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.
We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.
And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.
I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.
I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess
I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.
I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now
I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.
I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.
Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.
I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.
It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.
What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all
I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me
"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"
"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"
"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"
The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on
One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe
Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."
And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.
Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her
A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you
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The Bro Cap
Biology was my favorite class this semester. Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore. He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school. Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was. He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball. He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys. A lot of guys wished they could be him. I, however, wanted to be with him. Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind. At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.
I often found myself getting distracted by him. Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle. His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place. His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school. He didn’t come off like the rest of them though. His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks. He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked. Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried. It was no wonder why he was so popular.
Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin. I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention. It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating. The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class. Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him. He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.
“Correct! I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled. “You always look like you’re off in your own little world. But you still manage to do well. You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.” Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies. Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s. He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.
The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed. All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework. He helped clarify things for me thankfully. I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.
“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you? That’s his hat, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I always see him wear it.” It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.
“Do you know if you can bring it to him today? If not, I can keep it here until next class.”
“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next. I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.” I don’t know why I said that. We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were. I’m also not on the baseball team. Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.
Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom. He was probably long gone anyways. After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat. I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on. Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again. I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it. It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s. It’s not like he had lice or anything. What’s the worst that could happen?
And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would. Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped. The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping. The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened. My watch skipped a tick. But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked. I had to admit, I looked really good in it. I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league. Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face. A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me. Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore. I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.
After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra. I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out. I must’ve lost track of time. As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason. I never used to make much of an impression on most people. I was quiet and had only a couple friends. Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.
“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?” the teacher remarked. Very funny. I always showed up on time. I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right. My body squeezed tight into the desk. I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler. Weird. Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.
The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative. I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering. I still felt a couple of their eyes on me. I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room. She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion. She was cute, but definitely out of my league. I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.
Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today. Something must be wrong. The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache. I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne. I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.
Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch. I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.
Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food. Wanna come with?
Normally, we always got lunch at the same time. But for some reason, I didn’t really want to? That’s weird for me. I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.
Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude
I didn’t text like that normally. Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name. They were two jocks. I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot. What did they want? I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind. Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.
“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym. Wanna come with?” the other jock asked me. Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.
Were they serious? Did these jocks actually think I was one of them? I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed. Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys. My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them. For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time. I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before. They were really chill.
I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends. I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me. Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks? It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.
I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.
Bryan: My bad. Thought you were someone else. He must’ve given me the wrong number.
Was this some kind of prank? He obviously knew my number. Of course he knows who I am. Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks. I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends. You know, my real friends. I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed. Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.
We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein. I swear I almost never eat this much. The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself. But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them? I had class soon. But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros. I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them. As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.
I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym. I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts. To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine. I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift. It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner. By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class. But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.
“Later, Moore.”
Must’ve been a slip of the tongue. There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron. At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him. Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself. He could always just get another one, right? I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.
In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear. Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that. I shrugged it off. They can stare all they want for all I care. I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen. If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with. But in such a short amount of time? With no prior lifting experience? That was impossible.
I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today. All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later? I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period. Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave. I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who? Aaron Moore.
“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?” he asked.
“Practice?”
“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy! You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude. Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”
“Yeah, you’re right, bro. My bad.” I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with. But as I looked at him, I realized something. He was wearing his hat! But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it? “I thought you lost your hat. How are you wearing it?”
“I was wearing my hat all day, dude. One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do. But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up. You’ll impress the ladies.” But I was gay. And I’ve only had this hat for a day. If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine? I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.
As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other. Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out. Was it because we were going to practice? I’ve never played baseball in my life. Nah, that can’t be right. I feel like I’ve swung a bat before… We went into the locker room to change. I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.
My reflection wasn’t there. Someone else’s was. Someone much stronger and much taller than me. That wasn’t me. It was Aaron Moore.
No, except it wasn’t an exact match. There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron. This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall. I walked closer. “Aaron” walked closer. I moved my hand to feel my face. So did “Aaron”. A dull, confused look appeared on his face. Had I really become him? But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing. Then who am I? Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier? I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.
Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name. That’s…Aaron’s? Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married. As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.
Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday. I knew my birthday, and it was in January. Don’t tell me…Are we…?
I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream. It was like I was his twin! Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters. At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed. Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis. I realized that this all started when I wore his hat. I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder. My bro…I mean Aaron.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro? Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me. I think it runs in the blood, you know. You like that, right?” He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head. I nodded. I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection. I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body. At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.
“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin. The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together. This is all you ever wanted, right?” He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him. Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong. But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.
“Yeah bro. This shit’s the life, dude.” I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that. The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro. I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood. As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…
“That’s right…Just let it happen… I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back? During senior year?”
“Fuck yeah, bro. I remember.” But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right? I know I have.
“You know you were the reason we won, right? One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game. I’ve never been more proud of you bro.” Aaron patted me on the back. I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it. That year, our baseball team was the best in the state. And I…led our team to a championship? As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real. But why was he reminding me of this now?
“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”
As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away. Turns out that I was the brother he never had. We were a pair. We complemented each other perfectly. I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school. I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro? That’s gay as shit. And weird. This was my own twin we were talking about. Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too. After all, no girl can resist either one of us.
“So the hat is working…” Aaron whispered under his breath.
“What hat?”
“Nothing, bro! I was just saying how good your hat looks on you. Come on, let’s go.” I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.
From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother. Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as. Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock. I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic. Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree. But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school. I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this. But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times. I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.
Two days later, I had biology again. I remembered I kinda struggled with this class. I sat behind my bro as usual. I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework. I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class. When I asked him, he wouldn’t say. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me. We practically knew everything about each other after all. After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.
“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you. Is everything alright? Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”
“Never felt better, bro. I think I was just up too late partying the other day. And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.” I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.
“Good, good.” Mr. Martin smiled. “I won’t leave you too long. I know you two have your hands full with practice today. Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see. It suits you well, Aiden.” I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left. Mr. Martin was always cool. I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what? I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.
What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros. I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways. Probably nothing important. As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school. I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.
At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights. All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift. Must run in the blood. After school, I went to practice with Aaron. We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer. We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition. Man, this was the life. I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.
#jock#jock bro#jock tf#jock transformation#jockification#male hypnosis#male tf#male transformation#mental change#muscle tf#dumbing down#dumb jock#dumber#reality change#reality shifting#alternate reality#nerd to jock#muscle transformation#muscle#reprogramming#himbo tf#himbo#himbofication#frat bro#frat boy#backwards cap#fuckboi#fuck boy#gay to straight#college jock
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Noticing The Difference
I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.
Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.
I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.
But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.
I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.
Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.
“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”
I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…
“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”
He was straight.
Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.
And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…
He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.
I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.
“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.
After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.
Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.
But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.
Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…
“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.
“Call her bro.”
Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.
What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.
But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.
They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…
A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.
“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.
That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.
I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…
#male body theft#male body swap#magic#curse#gay to straight#identity theft#jock#male hypno#permanent#male possession#muscle theft#male muscle growth
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Conscripted
What was supposed to be a moment of peace for Eli was shattered by Diego's loud and sudden entrance, aggressively demanding to speak with his ex-boyfriend. "What the fuck, Diego!?" Eli protested, irritated by his ex's unannounced and deeply unwanted presence. "You can't just-" Eli's irritation quickly turned to confusion, perturbed by Diego's drastically different appearance. "How the hell did you put on so much muscle!? And what's up with the army getup?"
"Why haven't you met with a recruiter yet, boy?" Diego coldly demanded, purposefully letting Eli's questions go through one ear and out the other.
"What are you talking about!?" Eli absently questioned, distracted by how Diego's voice sounded bizarrely deeper since they last spoke. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I guess I'll have to recruit you myself, boy." Diego wickedly smirked, his eyes glowing green.
"What the fuck!?" Eli recoiled in a horrifying mixture of confusion and fear. He wanted to escape, but it was too late. His eyes unfortunately met Diego's, and it was all over. He lost himself to Diego's hypnotic gaze, trying desperately to resist but failing hard in seconds. "What the fuuuuuuckkkk?"
"Do not resist." Diego chanted, his voice stiff like a robot. He removed his army cap, only for a replacement cap to magically appear on his head. He took his old cap and placed it on the now-frozen Eli. "You will be conscripted. The army must grow. Assimilate. Assimilate. Assimilate."
"Fuuuuckkkkkkkk!!!" Eli's eyes rolled back, his body shooting up straight as aboard. Diego's old cap morphed to fit Eli's head perfectly. Eli's mind was then assaulted by a deep and powerful voice, an aggressive drill sergeant.
"Now, listen up, maggot!" The drill sergeant in Eli's head loudly commanded. "The army must grow! All males will comply and be conscripted! You will comply! You will assimilate! Isn't that that right, maggot?"
"Sir, yes, Sir." Eli softly responded, his brain melting. He wants so hard to resist, but giving in feels intoxicatingly good.
"I can't hear you, maggot!" The drill sergeant loudly commanded.
"SIR, YES, SIR!!!" Eli loudly replied, saluting with great conviction. And just like that, his transformation began. His slim, twinky body instantly expanded and grew into a bulking mass of intense masculine muscle. His medium-length hair buzzed back to a short military cut. His pink shirt and grey sweats shifted to an army green shirt and camouflage pants, exactly like Diego's. A pair of perfectly polished army boots popped onto his newly expanded feet. Lastly, a manly band tattoo formed on his right bicep as his army tag materialized onto his newly thickened neck.
"Welcome to the army, boy." Diego smugged, proudly crossing his arms.
A few weeks have passed since Eli was conscripted, and much has changed. He was given a pair of mind-altering headphones that permanently eliminated everything the army didn't see fit, which was mainly his homosexuality. He's now as straight as a nail and has even bred a few sluts on campus, with much more impregnating to come. Eli and Diego have conscripted most of the males on campus. A few have gotten away, but they'll be found and conscripted. It's their destiny. After all, all males will comply and be conscripted. Do not resist. The army must grow. Assimilate. Assimilate. Assimilate.
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I'm the dad now
"Come on Dad, this is gonna hurt both of us. Just stop fighting and let go. You're not gonna win."
The hairy man was alone in the bathroom fighting with himself, screaming in pain, grabbing his neck and trying to comfort himself. He spoke to himself, which may sound schizophrenic, but this wasn't the case. He was being possessed for the first time by his teenage son, Joe, who had big troubles at school for skiping classes. Joe wasn't usually the type to skip school, but there was this bully he wanted to get back at. He found way to possess someone, but it took a lot of practice to do. You couldn't just possess someone asleep, but them being awake was the thing that made it so hard. They fought and the more they fought the harder it became to stay in the body. But after many many hours of possessing multiple students of his for just a few seconds, he finally felt like he could be ready to possess his bully now. If it weren't for the letter from school that came in mail this morning. Joe opened it and saw that they asked his father to come by for a meeting with the principal. "Oh, no. My dad can't see this. I have to do something." An evil and slightly reckless idea followed.
And as you guessed correctly, Joe's idea was to just possess his father and go to the meeting himself. Did he think about the consequences? No. But that didn't matter now, because his father still faught for his body pretty hard. The only lucky thing for Joe was that his father won't remember the process of possession.
"I win dad. I am stronger. You have to sleep now and let it go!"
Few minutes of fight followed and then quiet.
Joe laughed with tears in his eyes. Sweat all ower his body from the fight. "You could have atleast made my possession a bit easier than this, dad."
Now was the perfect time to hurry up, dress dad's body and meet the principal. But Joe's teenage mind went to a different place. His dad can be late. It's about Joe's life. Not him. He only has to show up
Joe P.O.V.
"Damnnnnn dad! You have really been hitting the gym recently, haven't you? Maaan look at me" I didn't expect this to be so hot. I was a bit grossed out possessing my own dad, but now I might actually enjoy this.
"I never noticed, how really handsome you are, daddy." Hairy pecs, beautiful biceps. You're a real man, I'd like to be some day. Well... not someday. Now."
"It's actually not your biceps now, dad. It's all mine. Just look at it. So amazing. The boys at school would be so jealous. No they WILL be jealous. Just wait till I show them who I am now."
"Oh dad. Why the hell have you been hiding all this from me. I would have never thought about possessing that fucker Bill. Why should I even bother now about some dumb school shit. I can be an adult man for fuck's sake. I am the man now. I am my DAD."
"These muscles are so firm and tight. I wonder how many times a week you have been going. Might get used to it now." Wait, am I really thinking what I am thinking? Do I want to stay like this. No, this must be the after efect of possession, not just a desire to be the hairy dad of mine.
"Haha, I'm so heavy now that I'd most certainly beat all the boys in the football club. Well maybe not the quarterback, but everyone else I might. Maybe I should get Trevor to possess him. We could enjoy being two studs together. I would be a bit older, but I'm sure he won't mind. Especially not while we are exploring our new bodies."
"Which brings me to this awful towel." I dropped it on the floor where it belongs
"Wohohooo, much better. Damn dad, the razor stays clean all the time for a reason right? I won't change that don't worry. I'm pretty sure Trevor likes his men hairy. Not like he would know what a man's touch is like or even sex. But tonight he will. I will let him scratch my beard, kiss my biceps, massage my back."
"Oh boy, I have to go take care of this beast now. Don't want to cum in the principals office. Haha, I love being my dad."
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Happy late Halloween. I hope you guys enjoy this Halloween special. Aaron miller is my favorite fitness influencer and always want to use him in story’s but always want to save him for something good. I ended up saying fuck it and writing the below. Let me know if you like it!
ROOMMATE CLONESTUME (Halloween Special)
You would think having a fitness influencer as a college roommate would be like winning the lottery. Being able to see pieces of eye candy almost every day, almost practically shirtless all the time, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. You see Aaron Miller was your typical douchebag straight jock bro behind the camera. Always calling me fag but always saying he’s just joking and I need to toughen up. Of course, you would never catch him like that on camera, always playing like the fun-loving jock goofball. Thankfully he’s leaving tonight to go to some stupid Halloween party at the frat house.
“Yo fag! How do I look” I hear his voice call from the living room
“Fucking hot right! All the chicks are gonna be all over me begging from some of this Miller cock” he said while smirking and flexing in front of the full-length mirror in the living room
“Yeah I’m sure they will Aaron” I reply while rolling my eyes and begging he would leave soon.
“You know some other frat across campus invited me to their Halloween but I already promised my bro I’m going to Alpha Omegas party. Feel free to accept my invite”
"I think I'm good, I got to finish my term paper but I guess thanks" I replied thinking it weird why he would think I would somehow fit in at a frat party
“Well, bro the invite is in my room and feel free to use last year's costume.. might be a bit big haha. Anyway gotta go before the good Pus gets taken” Aaron said taking one last pic for his IG story and heading out
“Thank god, I can finally work on my paper,” I said heading to my room. I walk by Aaron’s room and notice his door ever so slightly open. I ended up looking in and seeing a paper which I assumed was the invite lying on his messy bed next to what seemed to be the black Spiderman suit he wore last year for Halloween.
“Wow, did he really think I was gonna put that on” I say as I continue to walk further into the room the scent of stale gym clothes and musky axe cologne lingered in the air.
As I get closer to the bed I keep looking back and forth from the costume and the letter. I don’t know why but I ended up grabbing the costume something about it was calling me. The silky satin feeling of the spandex with the scent of stain sweat and beer, most likely from last year's party. “Maybe I should try it on” I whisper under my breath.
I start to undress myself in Aaron’s room until I’m standing in just my briefs. I look around feeling kinda risqué in his room half naked, but something felt right about putting this one. I slowly start to unzip the costume looking into the dark interior. As I started to put on the costume I could immediately tell it was quite a few sizes too big and especially since Aaron had worn it previously certain areas were stretched out more than usual. I slowly start to pull the costume up my body as I get halfway to putting it on something feels wrong
“No no why am I doing this I need to work on my paper” I say snapping out of the hazy confusion but as soon as I try to take off the suit I knew something was wrong
“What the fuck” The rest of the suit starts to climb up my slim body and sticking to any skin it touches. I tried to remove it, but the suit just snapped back almost like a second skin. “STOP” I scream as it continues to travel upwards my body covering all the way up until it reaches my neck. I soon hear the noise of a zipper closing and a cold feeling riding up my back. I immediately reached backwards trying to catch the self-moving zipper before it closed all the way, but I was too late as soon as I grabbed the zipper head I felt it disappear from my hand as the suit started to close up leaving no seam behind.
“What the fuck is this, how does this happen” I continue trying to take off the suit but it just gets tighter and tighter until a moment where I lose control. “What..” my body starts to move slowly by itself it feels like I lost control of anything the suit has encompassed. I start to move towards Aaron’s nightstand, grab the remote to his TV and turn it on. I was immediately blasted with the audio and imagined Aaron almost like he was starting off one of his annoying Instagram videos.
“What is going on PEEEOPLES! Or should I say fag” he said chuckling to himself at the uncreative nickname he has bestowed upon me.
“WHAT THE FUCK AARON WHAT IS THIS” I scream at the tv as my body stands still disobeying my mind.
“ you’re probably going “what the fuck Aaron?” or some shit like that but no bother bro, this is all recorded. No one to help you now haha. You see I was tired of having some fuck ass roommate that I couldn’t share anything with so I looked online and found this powder with some special powers. I sprinkled it on my old costume and all I had to do was wait for the next person to wear it. I knew you would be tempted. I mean who couldn’t” he says as he flexes his bicep.
“So anyways, I got invited to this banger party and said yes but some other frat also invited me to theirs and like fuck I couldn’t be in two places at once. So I thought and figure maybe you’ll like to go but couldn’t have some loser gay fag representing me so I decided you needed a small makeover. That special powder is gonna make you into me and you won’t even remember ever being your faggy little self. So hope you enjoy the party bro and remember the party is not complete till a girl gets bred.” And with that the TV shut off but before I could react something went over my head shutting my eyes
“Fuck fuck get this off of me” I say noticing that it was a mask probably to complete the stupid Spider-Man costume.
Soon the changes started to happen I felt the suit tighten but at the same time expand. It first started with my feet growing to a large size 14. The changes travelled upwards as my calfs and thighs started to expand giving me tree trunks for legs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fit in any of my pants anymore. Soon I felt a pain in my stomach like I was kicked by a boxer
“UGH FUCK” I say as I fall on my knees. While I couldn’t see anything under the suit I knew abs started to form one by one leaving an impressive six-pack behind. As I looked down I started to see my chest push out. Creating a shelf right under my head. Two massive pecs now jutted out of my body and now I had to make an effort if I wanted to see any part of my body below my pecs.
The change travelled outwards as the suit forced me to do a double bicep pose typical of what I see Aaron do when he’s back from the gym. Soon my biceps and triceps started to expand like crazy. My muscles became sore as they grew to match his arms exactly.
Lastly, the feeling travelled up to my face and I felt the muscles crack inside my skull and the fat draining from my cheeks. I was screaming in agony until the pain suddenly left.
My body Finally fell down to the ground like a puppet dropped by its owner. I slowly get up and start to remove the mask and notice the zipper has reappeared. I zip the costume just until it hits my waist. My body was sweating from the changes and I needed to know what happened.
I knew Aaron had a mirror in his closet and ran to the door to open it. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was seeing…
An exact copy of him was standing right in the mirror.
“No no, this can’t be… I can’t be him” I say panicking not recognizing my own body in front of me. I tried to figure out what I could do to change back and started to run to my room, but as soon as I reached the door to exit, I came to a sudden halt.
I looked down which was difficult trying to see over these massive pecs and realised I still had the costume on. My eyes widened as my legs started to walk me back to his desk and force me to sit down. I tried to fight back but to no use. I was losing control… soon my arm started to move toward the computer and turning it on
“No wait, stop please” I scream at my unresponsive body but it continued to move on its own.
As the computer turns on a pre-loaded video comes along with it...
YOU ARE AARON MILLER
“NO NO STOP” I scream realizing it was hypnosis
Clips of Aaron flexing and pictures of his body invade the screen between phrases.
YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AARON
FLEX
JOCK
MUSCLE
My eyes started to become glued to the screen against my will. I tried to resist but I couldn’t. Soon I noticed my arms moving again. They move downwards and started to push the costume lower until *pop* my cock bounces out.
“No… please let me go,” I say as the arm reaches for my dick and starts to jack it off slowly at first.
JOCK
BRO
Soon the images changed. More of Aaron joking around with his friends, drinking, partying and working out. Videos of him fucking and breeding girls always started to appear. I knew some of them from school
BRO
DUDE
BREED
Soon the jacking off started to pick up speed as more and more of the hypnosis and reprogramming started to settle in. My brain was trying to fight a losing battle. I was able to gain a small amount of control to see my cock as I noticed it starting to expand. Slowly it lengthened from its original 5 inches hard …. 6…7….8 until I reached a mighty 9 inches. My hand started to lose grip as the girth also started to grow almost not allowing me to fully encompass the cock with one hand. Next, I felt my balls change they started to lower until they fell into a pouch inside the costume that no doubt used to be where the original Aaron had his. They grew larger as my moans started to overshadow the video. I felt a kick in the balls as I knew my old cum was being eaten by the new alpha cum Aaron produces
“Pls… uhhh… stop this” I say with the last residuals of will I had as my arm continued jacking my new cock until it reached near orgasm
“No….”
BREED
“Pls…”
JOCK
“I don’t”
YOU ARE
“Want thi….”
AARON MILLER
“FUUUUUUUCK”
I cum all over my body and my room as I snap out of the horny daze
“Fuck that was good. Now gotta get to that fucking party before someone takes all the good puss”
I get up from the desk and shuffle over to my closet to grab a used cum towel and wipe myself off.
I grab the costume from my waist and pull it all the way up zipping the costume as well. I smirk in the mirror knowing all the chicks are gonna want some of this Miller cock.
The original Aaron’s plan worked perfectly. He now had a complete copy of himself running around breeding and partying. He finally had someone he could share everything with, himself! Of course, people asked questions but he just said it was his twin brother.
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I can't help but to move this hand down to this silly cartoon shorts and give this hardening cock a good tug as I watch the nerd parading around my body like he's some kind of goofy douchebag muscle jock. He's literally tarnishing my image by posting silly thirst-trap on Tiktok! For fuck's sake, I'm an athlete on scholarship, that's not the way I roll. But these comments are all fucking positive (or lustful) and boy I am lying to myself if I say that the nerd failed to really be doing some shits to my body that makes it so irresistible. Or maybe this nerd body is just fucking gay......oh God he's posting another shit already, oh goddammit now it's with my girl too.....and fucckk is he posting again, in my room now?? Ungghhhhh fffuuuckkkk just the thought of him using my cock ungghhhhaahhhh.......dammit this nerd
#nerd to jock#male body swap#jock to nerd#revenge body swap#oblivious#personality change#straight to gay#gay to straight
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Straight Boy.MP3 Part 2
Pierre was chilling on his bed, scrolling his phone in utter boredom when suddenly he got a text from his best friend, Mason, a link to an untitled mp3. His eyes perked up, wondering what it could be. While putting on his headphones, he got another text from Mason. The text read, "Bro!!! Listen to this immediately, bro!!! It's fucking life changing, bro!!!" Pierre raised an eyebrow of confusion, perplexed at why Mason unexpectedly sounded like an annoying cliché of a dumb straight boy. "Well, if it's that amazing," Pierre scoffed, rolling his eyes. He laid back and curiously pressed play, smugly assured in knowing no song is genuinely life-changing. Poor Pierre, how wrong he'd soon be.
After a few seconds of ambient build-up, the song went right into the hook: a cacophony of vibrant hypnotic melodies piercing Pierre's mind like neon lightning. It was loud and violent, yet incredibly arousing. In a panic, Pierre tried removing his noise-canceling headphones, but they wouldn't budge. He wanted to get up, confused and frightened, but his body wouldn't let him; his backside and legs felt like they were cemented to the bed. The more he tried to budge, the weaker his body became. His arms soon fell to his sides, limp with exhaustion. All he could do was listen in agonizing terror as his 10" cock became instantly rock hard, creating a stiff pitch tent in his thin grey sweatpants.
"What the fuck?!" Pierre winced as the song's repetitious beat assaulted his ears. He clutched his bedspread in discomfort, feeling incredibly lightheaded but, surprisingly, with no headache. His eyes rolled back in anguish, feeling his whole body tingle and tighten. Even in such misery, nothing could stop the mysterious intensity of aching arousal igniting within him, a massive pre cum stain forming at the tip of his throbbing pitch tent.
"Cum, dumb straight boy!" An unrecognizable male singer abruptly and loudly sang, frightening the hell out of Pierre. His hard cock quivered, instantly responding to the song's command. His cock suddenly felt on the brink of eruption, making him spasm with a severe euphoric chill. In the pit of his stomach, he knew something terrible was going to happen if he shot his load. He clutched his bedspread harder, trying desperately to resist, but his body wouldn't have it. With a moan of great sexual agony, he blasted through his grey sweatpants and made a huge mess of himself and his bedspread with his white sticky cum.
"Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre moaned, his voice slightly deeper. He couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, but it was the only thing his brain could muster. The song then went right into the bridge, grabbing back his attention. "Dumb boy. Dumb, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. "What the fuck?!" Pierre gasped, feeling his cock stiffen back up. "Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy. Cum out all your brains, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. His cock quivered and throbbed, aching for release. "Fuck, no! Fuck, bro-" Pierre uttering that word again sent a chill down his spine, cutting off all thought. "Holy fuck, bro." Pierre moaned, his mind suddenly feeling like mush. His hips began to thrust forward on their own, his cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants. He could feel his resistance slipping, giving him unexpected pleasure. "Fuck, bro!!!" he moaned, his cock erupting another blast of hot sticky cum.
"Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy." The lyrics sang, bringing a dumb smile to Pierre's sweaty face. "Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre chuckled, his head feeling even lighter. He unclenched from his bedspread, feeling more relaxed. Pierre then closed his eyes, seeing them go fuzzy. A few seconds ago, Pierre felt like he was in a living nightmare, but now he felt like he had just finished having the best full-body massage of his life. "Fuck, bro." He moaned in satisfaction. However, the song wasn't over. Pierre wasn't complete yet.
"Straight boy. I'm a straight boy." The lyrics sang, widening Pierre's dumb smile. "I'm a straight boy." Pierre harmonized. Pierre's eyes opened in shock, instantly snapping out of his joy. A drop of cold sweat ran down his face, dread pouring over him. "I'm gay." Pierre protested. "You're a straight boy." The lyrics immediately sang back, responding to him. Pierre's heart quickened, unable to believe what was happening. "I'm-" Before Peirre couldn't finish, the song fastly interrupted, "-straight. You're a straight boy." Pierre's cock stiffened back up to full mast, throbbing and quivering for release. He clutched his bedspread again, knowing the next ejaculation would be the last. What lay on the other side of that orgasm, he could only fear the worst.
"Cum, straight boy!" The song commanded. Pierre clutched his soaked bedspread harder, trying with all his might to resist. "Cum, boy. Cum, straight boy. Cum out all your gay, straight boy!" The song commanded, sounding malevolent. Pierre groaned, feeling his hips thrust forward on their own again. His hard cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants felt magnificent, the pleasure beyond hard to resist. "Cum, Pierre! Join us, bro!" The song commanded. Pierre's heart skipped a beat, the song uttering his name frightening the hell out of him. His hips thrust harder, humping faster. He could feel the cum building up, his cock ready to erupt for the final time. "Please, no!" Pierre protested in agony, tears forming in his eyes. "CUM!" The song demanded, sounding like the devil himself. Pierre clutched as hard as he could, the pleasure overpowering all fear. "FUCK, BRO!!!" Pierre roared like a mighty manly beast, firing off his hot sticky white cum for the third and final time.
The song blasted off its final beat as Pierre passed out in a pool of sweat and cum. He awoke a few minutes later feeling like a brand-new man. Pierre was a new man. The previous intelligent gay Pierre was permanently gone forever, and the new dumb straight Pierre was here to stay. With all memory of his mental transformation erased, Pierre was dumbfounded as to why he was drenched in sweat and cum. But now, being as dumb as a brick, he didn't overthink it and got off his bed to clean himself. Instead of bathing like an intellectual, he grabbed a used towel and poorly whipped the cum and sweat off his chiseled body.
Pierre then rushed over to his closet to quickly change into his trunks. It was still a hot, sunny day, and the slutty babes at the beach were calling. He needed pussy and badly! But before going out, Pierre sent all his gay friends a link to his brand-new favorite song, an untitled mp3.
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"Influencing influencers"
Im Byron, im kinda popular on the media, wouldnt call myself an influencer but at least an small celebrity for certain people: gay guys. Im popular between gay guys.
Then there is this guy, Tod, he do Is an influencer, another gay guy pretty popular, and we have done some colaboration videos, thanks to this i got a bit of highlights recently, getting more followers, but just some days ago Tod posted something off, at least for his usual:
Fart jokes? Superhero referentes? Both together!? Really weird if you ask me to. The situation got weirder when a lot of popular guys from the "gymbro side" of the media started comenting, celebrating his video... And he wrote back, in the weirder way posible:
"@markobroskii: Sick Bro! Superman Is next
@Tody_yourguy: Aded to the list broski!"
Didnt tought too much about It until he post a video that made my jaw drop:
He wasnt just wearing clothes that didnt match his usual but he was in the lingerie zone playing with the undies, saying he was making the zone 'More enjoyable to the View"
That sell the deal. I send his a message and went to his place to check on him.
In the way to his place i saw his @ on media changing to @Tod_thebro.
Wtf!?
When arrived, i notice diferences since he open the door, he stank!
- Jesus! Tod, thats your smell!?
- Yeah, some bro scent, go ahead bro, take a sit - he said With a voice that sounded diferent, he was talking with this "Frat Bro" acent we used to laugh about.
His apartament was now a mess, full of empty - and not so empty - pizza boxes, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, and sticky looking socks... He offer me a beer from a brand i didnt knew, but i'm not really a drinker so maybe thats why. I took it just to be polite, took some sips... Wasnt that bad.
Tried to find the cleanest place and thats where i sat.
- Sup bro, what did you wanna talk about?
- Well... About this... - I said looking around -Whats happening? First that gross fart video - I saw him chuckle when i mentioned that - then that also gross video on the lingerie store and Now... Look at your apartament, what hapened?
- I woke up bro - thats his only answer.
- Huh?
- I realice that gay life wasnt right for me
- What the fuck you- he interupt me
- Going to the gym, no worries about skin care routine - he keep talking - no worries even about showers, not washing my butt every-time-i-have-a-date - he said that words sounding indeed really sick of it- or not washing my butt at all, no using it for please other guys, just using it for this:
After saying that he lifted a leg and rip a long, smelly and loud fart
PRRRRRRFFFFFFFTTTFFFF the fart resonated for all the place, stinking everything, i had to cover my nose inmediatly, which make Tod laugh.
- Tod, theres no way to go straight, u have always been against that believe!
- Used to, but theres way, and you Will UAAARP agree soon
- What do you mean? - i said confused, and a bit of worried
- See, my awaking start when i had the first can of a beer from this weird brand a hot masc guy gave me, that same beer you are drinking now
Oh fuck.
- Oh n-OOUUUURRRRRP
- It's already starting, bro
- Theres no way, uh-PRRRRRRFFTTTFFFF
Tod was smiling with and almost evil smile, chugged a can of beer, belched and said: Cheers bro.
While here, I was burping non-stop, feeling my brain a bit foggy... Why I was worried about?
...
@ morningboy💕:
Oh!, Byron finally posted something, and it looks like a colab with Tod! Maybe he make him come back to his senses, all his 'turning straight' story really afect to the community.
Anyways lets see the video...
Ok, that outfit was a choice, Byron - I tough
Keep watching.
Oh... Oh no, is Byron having a fart contest with Todd!?
This feels wrong... Wait! Why his user just changed to @Byb-ronski...
#dumber#male tf story#gay to straight#fart kink#gay#fart#bottom to top#alpha bro#male tfs#fart story
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A Series of Misfortunate Events
You recently moved into your new home when your mom married your new stepdad. While the house was nice you were cursed to interact with his annoying son / your new step-brother. He was everything you were not muscular, dumb, and straight. You always tried to Ignore him but one day you noticed you were missing your favorite jacket. You looked around all over but it never turned up. While walking back to your room you pass his door. You decide maybe your mom placed your jacket in his room while doing laundry. Knocking on the door you hear no response and decide to open the door. Immediately you were hit by the smell of a locker room and sex. Entering the room you see clothes all thrown around. Taking a quick glance you see your precious jacket and immediately run over to grab it. Unfortunately, your quick pace betrayed you as your foot hit some object on the floor causing you to trip. As you’re about to fall over you quickly push yourself from the desk but unfortunately something caught on your pants as your heard a loud *RIIIIIIIIPP*. Quickly falling over on to the bed you face plant on to your stepbrothers pillow and unknowingly your cock was jammed into a pile of clothes on his bed. You pull your face up and look over noticing your pants and underwear were completely ripped off, leaving you butt naked. You look down and see you’re laying on a large lump of your step-brothers dirty clothes. As you try to get up you feel a wet sensation around your cock. Immediately you are sucked back in. Pushing the clothes aside your face turns to horror as you see that your cock was jammed into some sort of fake vagina. You quickly try to get out but every time you try to remove it the pussy just sucks you back in. This continued on and on until you’re basically fucking the thing.
Soon your body starts to grow as you find yourself indulging in the pleasure even if you are gay….any hole is a goal right? Your mind starts to deviate from escaping but try to focus again. Your muscle continue to expand and hardening giving you the perfect jock bro look eerily similar to your step brother. What you didn’t know was that inside the fake pussy multiple loads of your step brothers cum were sloshing around and slowly being absorbed. Your cock slowly pushes out as the feeling makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Inch by inch the cock extends until it starts hitting the back of the vagina with every push. After almost half a hour of fucking, your body has completely changed from a little nerd to a true jock. Your moans have become grunts as you come close to release. Finally with one big push you yell in a conquering roar as your old cum pushes out of you, but you immediately feel a filling sensation as your brothers cum starts to enter you through your slit and depositing itself into your new engorged balls ready to produce some baby batter for a real puss. The fake vagina finally releases your tender cock as you pant sitting up on your brothers bed, cum leaking out of your tip.
You soon hear the creak of the bedroom door as you quickly turn around seeing your older brother at the door fresh from the gym.
“Finally” he said with a smirk on his face.
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Workout routine
My best friend from school, Emily, married last summer while still being at university with me. She is still young, but claimed that her boyfriend truly loves her. Bullshit if you ask me, he never respected here and treated here like a trophy wife since the beginning. Yeah I hated him. He was a homophobic asshole and acting like some fuckin' alpha male. Why Emily dated him I never understood
One day we were on their garden studying for an upcoming exam. I was nervous most of the time cause James was working outside fixing stuff and eyed me like a prey. Emily went to get us some snacks and drinks.
He came up to me and started some homophobic talk how I could choose this path of sin and so on. I couldn't look up at him. Cause he was very close to me, very shritless and VERY sexy. Way too much. If I looked up even for a second, I would immediately get hard.
"You gays are the worst thing about this generation. You can't even work, y'all do your artsy useless shit and nothing usefull"
"Can you just let me live and go on about your life? I don't want to listen to this."
"Well you're on my property so you'll listen to whatever I have to tell you"
A call from inside the house. Emilly called him
"You're lucky. If it weren't for her you'd be already on the ground biting dust"
What an idiot. I was raging. I think I'll just leave and go home. I can't calm myself down and I don't want to cause any drama with Emily. Even if I think her husband is horrible, I don't want ot loose her a s a friend"
Emily came out of the house, smiling. She brought the snacks and water. She looked at me "Sorry for... taking so long. I had to sort something that couldn't wait. Now drink up, you haven't drank for hours. I should have brought drinks sooner."
I took the glass and took a sip. But then I felt really nauseaous. My vision was blurry now and I felt like vomiting. All I could make out of Emily's face was that she was smiling.
Then my vision started getting clearer again. But it was strange, I wasn't outside anymore. I was in their kitchen, holding a glass. "How did I get here?" went through in my head. As I looked for the nearest surface to put down the glass I noticed that I was shirtless.
Wait, what?!? This isn't my body!!!
I let go off the glass destroying it. But nothing could have prepared me for being this ripped in the matter of seconds. This is something I always wished for, but never thought I would get. I was always the skinny twink trying to build more muscles, but couldn't. And now, I have massive muscles.
I found a mirror in the hall. No, this can't be happening. I am James. I can't be him. He is an asshole. A homophobic asshole.
But his body thought otherwise. His dick got hard. And it isn't small. Which might be cool to play with, but now I was still angry everytime I looked at the mirror.
"Enjoying yourself?" Emily asked as she entered the house
"What have you done, Ems?"
"I gave you a new body. The one you have been lusting for. And as a side effect I got myself an improvement for a boyfriend. I loved him before, but I was blind and deaf to all the things he said on your account and to all the things he commented about me. Never appreciated me. But you are the best man I ever knew. And I wanted to be with you even if I wasn't your type. But now, I think I might be" she said as she placed her hand on my new crotch.
I thought I wouldn't like this, cause I was gay for my entire life, but James's body is still straight. But in my mind I could even picture myself with a dude and not be disgusted
"Ems, I think you didn't turn me straight as you wished for. I think I'm bi, actually"
"Whatever is best for both of us. I got a cute gay friend who you might like and who would love to explore your body, with me. But I think there might be some emotions involved, you know. Cause of the previous ownership and so on." she said and laughed out loud.
I took her up and put her on the kitchen table. Embracing her and going for a kiss.
"Ems, you are the best friend I could have ever wanted. I love you and I will love you now as your husband"
We could hear a scream outside coming from the garden. We could only smile at each other as we knew what was coming
Two months later:
"Hey, my name is James and this is my colleague Robert. Robert is a small gay dude friend from my wife. We are going on a road trip to get to know each other better with the permission from my wife. So we would like a room"
"Oh, there's only double bed? That's absolutely fine with us, right Robert? Bro's will be bro's and NO HOMO. Hahaha"
A story request from Inbox: Could you do a swap with a Twink and his best friend’s bodybuilder husband?
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Friday Friendship
Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!
It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.
They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.
Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.
"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.
Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.
"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."
"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"
"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."
"That is quite unfortunate."
Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.
Finally, Archibald sighed.
"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."
"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."
The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.
Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.
Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.
He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.
Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.
Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.
Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.
Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.
Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?
He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?
He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.
Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.
With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.
Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.
He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.
Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.
Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.
Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.
"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.
"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."
Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.
"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."
Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.
He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."
"Name's Manny." Manny said.
"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.
"I'm Chad."
Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.
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