The New Frat: Part 1

Red Wave

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making Some Changes

By: the-craftsman

The cafe had seen a lot of better days, times when, the boss admitted, that it was a great place for college jocks to hang out and chill, but throughout the years it became “sophisticated”, a place where boring people came, ordered their drinks and left, leaving the cafe a place for dwelling hipsters, like Andrew and Rob here. The two of them sat down, Andrew barefoot not minding as he was complaining to Rob about the useless “jocks” on campus, needless to say things needed to change. Rob and Andrew were once again sat on a casual day, most of the people by now were leaving which was odd for the afternoon, and they swore they saw the appearance of more jocks in the cafe then they were on campus, which of course made it all the better when they complained.

“God what are with the meatheads today,” chuckled Andrew, beginning to sip into his chai tea (because of course he would be the type of person to order chai tea at a cafe), his feet still barefoot as he began scratching at his beard, feeling like it was slightly rougher against the skin, even skinnier he supposed. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe they put steroids in the coffee here,” smirked Rob as he drank his own chai tea, feeling a bit of a tangy taste causing him to smack his lips, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat. “From the taste of it, sounds like some of it slipped into our tea.” Rob joked, both him and Andrew laughing, neither noticing that their laughs had become deeper, almost more full as they were the only ones in the cafe by this point, that was, beside their new manager who was watching them earnestly as he wiped the tables. 

“God yeah, man this tastes awful,” grimaced Andrew, noticing his grip on the cup had become weaker, like his hands were feeling numb and he swore the cup was smaller than before. “I’ll go see if we can get a replacement or something.” Rob nodded, shifting in his seat as a sweat was breaking out on his brow, hoping Andrew didn’t notice. Andrew had walked up to the manager, still barefoot, not minding showing off his body now especially when there was nobody left in the cafe besides him and Rob, “Excuse me, sir, is it okay if we can get a replacement please, these just taste a bit…” The manager ignored him, though Andrew swore he could see a smirk. He was horrified as he dropped both the cups, glancing at his hands as he saw tanned skin began to appear, the tone travelling down his fingers which elongated.

“Andrew!” Rob was behind him, his own hands doing the same. Before the two could even begin to run away, they both looked down, watching their feet expand, growing to be similar footsize as Rob’s own pair of feet broke through his shoes, the toes popping out of the seams as the leather all but buckled upon his feet, the musky odour that began to emanate from them causing him to stifle a deep moan, as his feet all seemed to move on their own, instead of running away like he wanted them to, they were getting closer to Andrew. Andrew witnessed the change, unable to stop smelling his own musk that even began to make his cock erect. 

“R-Rob, we need to, to get out of here…” Andrew groaned, feeling his now larger and toned hands began to caress Rob’s body, slowly tearing off his clothes as Rob’s hands did the same to him. Both their hands exploring one another’s bodies, exploring each other as they began groaning and moaning together. Andrew felt Rob’s torso begin to creak, his own fingers seemed to almost create the crevices that defined themselves in Rob’s belly as his body became thinner, his shirt falling away as pectorals began to jut out, and Andrew felt Rob doing the same to his own, Rob’s fingers coming down to create the perfect navel and defined abs for himself. “R-Rob…” Andrew moaned before he felt Rob’s lips on his own, the two of them unable to stop themselves as their cocks pressed up against one another. Andrew’s fingers traced on Rob’s shoulder blades watching as a tattoo began to form. 

It was then when they felt their bulges expand, their cock elongating and lengthening against one another as their pants seemed to fall apart, Rob’s hands came to grasp Andrew’s ass and he suddenly felt his own inflate, his ass thickening and becoming somewhat wider as if the fingertips and hands that brushed it were crafting it, shaping it into the perfect bubble butt as Andrew did the same to Rob. They both glanced down as new underwear appeared, tightly fitting around their cock and ass, outlining themselves. Andrew even teased Rob, his fingers diving into the crevice of his new large ass, slapping it slightly and smiling as he did so, Rob yelped and groaned at the spanking and the fingers that continually teased diving into his ass to rub against his prostate, almost arching his back as he wanted more. Yet instead both their hands continued to explore each other’s cocks, fingers caressing the very head and the tip, rubbing against them to hear the other groan just that much more louder.

“You like that bro?” smirked Andrew as his finger came and playfully caressed the throbbing underside of Rob’s cock, his fingers making Rob tingle as he pre-cum was beginning to jut out, staining their tattered pants as Rob began to hump and thrust into Andrew’s hand.

“Andrew b-bro…I need…need more…” Rob continued to hump at Andrew faster, wanting more, hoping his collea- his bro could shove his cock down his ass, but with a seductive wink from Andrew, Rob knew that was later. 

They moved even closer, feeling both their legs almost tangle as they brushed against one another, becoming thinner, much more muscular as their calves defined themselves, their bulges still rubbing against each other as they were leaking. Andrew kissed Rob once again, unable to stop as his mind was altering, his groaning and moaning becoming much more apparent as the tatters of their old ‘nerdy’ clothing disappeared, their rough beards were gone as their jaws became chiselled, as their hands ran through each other’s hairs, their locks were gone, instead their hair was straightened, each other’s fingers almost combing through and styling it on their own. 

The musk was far too much, their feet both being confined to sandals as the two sniffed deeply, their fingers were clutching and grasping at each other’s cocks through their new underwear, rubbing the very head with their palm as Rob looked up at Andrew, biting his lip at the man’s blonde hair as he stared at them with brown eyes. 

“B-Bro…I’m gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me bro? Do it.” And with that, Rob couldn’t stop himself as he felt Andrew’s fingertips pull at his cock one last time before he stained his underwear with heaps of cum, upon seeing this Rob quickly did the same to Andrew, only giving him barely two strokes before Andrew did the same, the two of them cumming and leaning into each other’s touch, reality bending around them as their old lives were forgotten, lost upon them, no longer the hipsters that they were but the dumb bro jocks they once resented, once were jealous of, and that they now once were. 

By the time Andrew and Rob came back to be, they were both standing up, the manager facing them as he gave them their new drinks.

“Yeah bro, don’t give us any of that chai tea shit again, I’m telling you we don’t drink that,” Rob noted as the manager smiled, giving his most sincere apology as he waved goodbye to the two new jocks, the both of them laughing and flexing in their new bodies as they left the cafe. Needless to say they weren’t going to be lingering around any longer, they had frat parties and other “cool shit” to be doing.

The Witch's Transformation: (part 2)

Mark, a muscular college wrestler, pulls a prank on Alex by sending him to an abandoned house, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman who turns out to be an evil witch. Angered by his intrusion, the witch curses Mark, stripping him of his strength and transforming his body into that of a smaller, weaker version of himself. As his muscles vanish and his appearance changes, he finds himself in a tight-fitting speedo, with his body altered in unexpected ways. Ultimately, Mark is left bewildered and vulnerable, facing the consequences of his prank.

Mark, the college jock, had just played a prank on Alex, the introvert. He tricked Alex into going to an old, abandoned house.

To Mark's surprise, a beautiful woman emerged from the house instead of Alex. Perplexed, Mark decided to enter the house in search of Alex.

Inside the house, Mark found the beautiful woman again. He tried to flirt with her, not knowing what was about to happen next.

The beautiful woman revealed herself to be an evil witch. She was furious at Mark for trespassing into her domain and decided to punish him.

The witch decided to cast a spell on Mark. He felt weak as his muscles began to shrink, and his face became boyish and clean-shaven.

His clothes fell to the ground, no longer fitting his now slim frame. The witch handed him a small speedo which he wore, confused and fearful.

The witch snapped her fingers once more, putting the finishing touches on her spell. Mark's body started to change again.

Mark's butt began to grow, becoming huge and tight in the speedo. He had become small and weak, a stark contrast to the jock he once was.

The witch laughed at Mark's new appearance, satisfied with her revenge. Mark, on the other hand, was horrified and confused by his new reality.

Mark was left to grapple with his new identity, a punishment for his arrogance. He learned a cruel lesson that day about respecting others' spaces.

For @ultram0th2 hope you enjoy it. 💙

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

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

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

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

"I retract my previous comment." Stiles muttered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An interesting request from me. What if a straight man wishes to become Chris Evans because he wants the attention from girls. Well instead he becomes Kris Evans and he doesn’t notice until he is completely Kris and love the attention from men.

(Check out the full, NSFW version of this story HERE!)

Who doesn’t want to be Chris Evans?

Stellar career, great body, super nice guy, dog lover, and, by all accounts, a total chick magnet.

But nobody wanted to be Chris more than Blake. He was everything Chris wasn’t: unattractive, untalented, unsuccessful, and terrible with people (especially women).

So when Blake got his hands one one of those rare changing stones—ancient magical rocks with the power to transform the user into whomever's name they wrote on the smooth granite surface—he knew exactly what name he was going to write.

Unfortunately, spelling was among one of Blake’s many deficiencies. He relied heavier on spell check than the average person. But this wasn’t Microsoft Word. The changing stone had no spell check, so whoever (or whatever) one wrote on the rock was… well… set in stone.

At first, everything seemed to go according to plan. Blake felt himself shoot up an extra nine inches in height, followed immediately by a drastic drop in size. His blubbery gut receded back into his stomach, so much so that when looked down, his feet came into view for the first time since middle school.

But the view was short lived, as only moments later, a cartoonishly large pec shelf burst forth from his chest, once again obstructing his feet.

Jesus, Blake thought to himself, I knew Chris was big, but I didn’t know he was this big…

He had no idea.

Seconds later, the rest of his muscles began to come in: big veiny biceps, eight pack abs, a broad back, boulder shoulders, and legs the size of Thanksgiving turkeys.

It was then that Blake began to realize something was wrong. Chris Evans was a celebrity, not a supermodel. This was the body of a man whose entire career was his body. A model, perhaps… or a pornstar. God, I hope I’m not turning into a pornstar.

As if in response, Blake felt a tension in his groin area. He craned his neck over his muscle tits and watched as his cock grew to an impractical 9 inches, the fleshy sheath of foreskin inching up over the head.

Thanks to that screen sharing fiasco, everyone knew that Chris Evans was cut. This was not his dick… and this was not his body.

Blake assumed that the transformation was complete. He bore about as much resemblance to his former self as he did to the actor who’s name he’d written (or thought he’d written) on the changing stone. Instead, he had transformed into a 6’4”, 203 pound boy toy with a massive joystick.

I guess it’s not the end of the world, Blake thought as he explored his new body, chicks are gonna dig these muscles!

But there was still one last change. You see, Blake didn’t just accidentally write the name of any pornstar: he had written the name of a gay pornstar, and a prolific one at that.

As Blake entered the final stage of his transition, his mind flooded with fantasies of gay sex, images of guys sucking his dick and pounding his ass.

He tried picturing the busty blonde women he’d jerked off to his entire life, but his thoughts kept wandering back towards men: big, meaty men with big, meaty cocks, filling his every hole with their hot white spunk.

“No, stop! I’m not gay,” Blake cried out in a comically deep hungarian accent, “I don’t like guys! I like girls!”

But his dick begged to differ. The harder he tried to deny his new sexuality, the harder he got, until Blake’s dick was as hard as the changing stone itself. Whether he liked it or not, this was his new destiny: to live as a gay man.

A huge, hot, muscular gay man.

“Oh…. FUUUUUCK!”

He couldn’t take it any longer. All it took was one stroke and he shot his wad all over the stone. As the pornstar’s cum soaked the surface of the rock, the hastily scribbled black ink melted away.

His transformation was complete: Blake was no more, and in his place stood the iconic gay pornstar Kris Evans.

The hunky Hungarian gave a deep belly laugh, amused by the thought that not five minutes ago, he’d been some pathetic straight dude with a dream of turning into a Hollywood celebrity. Kris couldn’t fathom wanting to be anyone other than himself. He had the body of a god, an amazing job, not to mention the pick of any guy he wanted.

Every gay guy, that is.

Show some love to this new artist in the TF space!

"no fear, no limits, no surrender."

It's been a while since I've published but the truth is that when I found myself in finals, my head seems to have decided that not want to draw so it cost me a lot to finish this drawing. But finally I got it bring you this. I hope you like it

The office was tense as the news of possible layoffs started circulating around. Mark sighed as he sat back down in his seat, he played around with his phone for a short time but ended up throwing it back on his desk. He sat around, switching between nervously tapping his fingers on his desk or biting his nails as he glanced back intermittently at the door of his manager. Things didn’t get any better when he saw his annoying coworker, Jason, his attire barely “formal” and heading towards him with a big grin.

“You okay Mark? What’s going on?” asked Jason, Mark rolled his eyes, he couldn’t even tell if he came back from his lunch break or if he just turned up to work and the last thing he needed was to deal with some obnoxious jock.

“I’m fine, just worried about all the layoffs going around,” answered Mark, it took everything in him not to glare as he saw Jason grin.

“Aw man that sucks, well you look like you need to relax,” suggested Jason. “I recently started this server for me and a few friends, just to talk and play stuff together. Why don’t you join?” Mark wanted to say something, but he just found himself nodding. It wasn’t like he had much to do after work anyway and he did get a new console but hardly found any excuse to use it as opposed to trying to focus on doing more work from home. “Cool! So what do you play on?”

Mark had a feeling the next hour was going to be hell to get through.

Later on after work, he found himself thankful that he still had a job, but wanting to kick himself for agreeing to play with Jason today. He didn’t even take the time to change out of his clothes, still dressed in his office shirt and suit pants as he sat down and switched on his console, toying around with his console and getting used to the controller once again. He cringed slightly as he saw Jason’s invite appear on screen and he put on the headset before joining, hearing Jason’s voice.

“Hey there bro, how are you doing?” came Jason’s voice, Mark saw that there were a couple others that joined the lobby.

“I’m doing okay Jason, thanks,” replied Mark.

“Hey Jason, who’s this?” came a voice almost as obnoxious sounding as Jason’s. Mark wondered why these people sounded the same and as he tried to introduce himself, he was interrupted.

“Oh hey Scott! This is Mark, he’s a friend from work. Yeah, I recently started going gym with him and thought he should hang out with us here,” said Jason. Mark immediately furrowed his brows. He was a pretty healthy guy but he had never gone to the gym or with Jason. “Isn’t that right Mark?

“Uhh…” Mark started, for some reason he found the right words hard to come by as he suddenly grunted at the feeling of his own shirt starting to feel too tight. His own hand began unbuttoning his office shirt, fanning himself as Mark’s torso began to grow more muscular, beginning to spill out of the shirt and causing some of the last buttons to tear themselves off. Mark blinked, unable to process what was happening and feeling like he was in some sort of dream as he looked down at his torso.

His chest pushed out, his upper chest suddenly developing pecs that bounced as they fell forward after their surge of growth, both his nipples enlarging as blonde hairs began to replace his own darker chest hair. The hairs travelled down forming a treasure trail as Mark felt his lower chest suddenly begin to house a set of picturesque six pack abs.

“You okay there Mark?” asked Scott, as a final tear came about as the last of Mark’s office shirt tore away to allow his much larger body to be free as his back started to stretch as he sat up, causing him to grow taller by every second.

“Yeah uhh I just feel-”

“Oh I’m sure he’s fine, probably just stretching. We even went to the gym today, working on biceps,” interrupted Jason. Each part of his torso seemingly bloated as Jason went on and on about their gym routine and Mark simply shrugged his shoulders as his arms were the next to expand, widening as his hands grew to get a firmer grip on the more familiar feeling controller. It felt as if coming home from work or gym to spend time playing with Jason was the norm as Mark’s growing fingers wrapped around the controller and he only just noticed he was mindlessly playing a game with Jason and his buddies. “How are you feeling Mark?”

I feel weird, Mark wanted to say.

“I’m good man,” replied Mark as he felt one hand coming to his crotch, adjusting it as his bulge began growing in his own pants, beginning to feel his calves and thighs threaten to burst his pants.

“Yeah we’ve been working on his quadriceps and stuff too,” assured Jason, Mark kicked off his shoes, almost drooling as his eyes were glazed over and playing the game with no real focus and no attention to his changing body. As his feet began to grow, Mark began to feel all his focus and passion to work and the office shrinking. He found himself still adjusting on his seat as his legs continued to grow more muscular as he scratched at his blonde facial hair that continued to grow and spread around his chiselled jaw. “Mark do you wanna meet at the gym later?”

As Mark stifled a groan from the feeling of his larger throbbing crotch, he felt his changing face. His nose shrank. his eyes blinked and became blue, no longer needing his glasses which he tossed away and his neck thickened to allow a deeper voice to sound out of his thinner and smaller lips.

“Yeah bro that’d be great,” said Mark. He almost sounded exactly like Jason and his friend Scott now as he looked down at himself. “Give me a minute.” The dedicated office worker was now a more relaxed gym bro and as he stepped away to go change into some clothes when he realised he was almost naked except from some tight fitting underwear.

Nonetheless Mark decided not to wear too much, he enjoyed feeling and being able to look down to see his muscular body, and he couldn’t believe it when he thought that he couldn’t wait to go to the gym to hang out with his bro.

He didn't realize it that the mask that his boyfriend give him already doused with special serum.

***

"Where's the mask I used when I came here?"

"Sorry babe, I don't see it," Bryan said as he tried his best to hide his smile. The mask is in his back pocket "Here, use mine, got this from someone in the street handing out free mask," offered Bryan

"Black, totally not your color,"

"Well, that's why I give it to you,"

"Okay then. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow for dinner?"

"Of course babe, see you,"

They kissed and then Mark walked out from the apartment, he put on the black mask and Bryan can see that his posture instantly straightened

Along his way home, Mark changed even more. His arms swole as his biceps and triceps exploded. His once soft palm turned rough, courtesy of the workout regimen he put himself through. His polo became a little bit snug as his flat pecs turned muscular, the set of abs followed through to appear and at last, a visible cum gutter that leads to his now 7.5 inches dick with hairy balls. His complexion turned slightly darker, his shaggy blond hair went jet black and cropped while his baby blue eyes also turned black.

As Bryan flopped down to his bed after cleaning the kitchen, a message appear. It's a selfie from Marco, his boyfriend

"Thanks for the mask, babe. It looks good on me,"

Bryan just snickered as he whipped his dick out from his shorts, ready to jack off to the sight of his improved boyfriend

Back from hiatus & Discord server

What’s up brahs!

I’m back from hiatus, everyone! Went hiking, relaxed a bit and got caught in a norovirus outbreak, but now I’m back to writing. New stories will be coming in the next couple of days and I hope y’all enjoy more of my horny fantasies. Stay tuned!

In other news, I’m launching a Discord server for like-minded bros. It’s gonna be a space to share our horny thoughts with each other and just chill out. Hope y’all gonna enjoy a place like that. Just behave yerself bros!

See ya in a few days

Fly, Eagles Fly!

Ostello della Moda: Christofano

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

Tyler tried arguing with the man at the luggage counter but it was getting him nowhere. "My luggage was never transferred from Oslo ... but what will I do?" Tyler had planned on arriving later than his friends, but at the last minute, his booking company offered him a free upgrade to travel earlier. He was supposed to get there in the evening, but it was only 10:00 AM. Clearly, this "free" upgrade had cost him a day without his luggage. He had checked everything except a small backpack with his passport, phone, and a sweatshirt. He basically had the clothes on his back.

"And ... when my luggage comes ... you will transfer it to my hotel?" he asked.

"Yes," said the man speaking with very broken English. "Ostello della Moda..." he continued in rapid Italian. A few minutes later, he had negotiated with a few more customer service agents to get a free taxi ride to the hostel. The driver said he worker for "Ostello" and would bring him there immediately. But after an hour of winding through the grimier streets of Milan, Tyler wasn't so sure he trusted the man. The taxi drove past what looked like the red carpet to a fashion show or celebrity event. A few meters later, the cab pulled into a gated courtyard.

"Ostello della Moda," said the driver.

"Are you sure?" said Tyler. "This doesn't look like the picture I remember." The driver opened the trunk, jumped out and grabbed his backpack. Before Tyler could open his door, the driver ran into the courtyard with his backpack.

"Shit!" Tyler shouted as he struggled with the door, stumbled out of the cab, and raced after the man. The man turned into a dark door and Tyler followed him. He needed to get his backpack! Otherwise, he was lost in Italy with no phone, no IDs, and no money! He burst into the dark room and was knocked out cold by a stranger hiding inside.

"No ... please ... I don't have anything ..." Tyler mumbled as a pair of men pinned him down. His cab driver had opened his backpack and found his money and ID. "Let me go ... please ..." But the men had him trapped. One of them put a cloth over his mouth that had a fragrant chemical -- almost cologne like. He gagged a little, but then relaxed. He drifted off to sleep...

When he woke up, he could faintly hear electronic dance music through the walls. He had expected to be tied up in a dark room somewhere, but was just sitting on a chair in what looked like a dressing room. He blinked in the bright lights and saw that he had been stripped except for pair of tight athletic shorts. He looked down at his body in shock. His dark tan skin was covered in short curly hairs. His torso and abs were chiseled. His arms had small veins popping out toned muscle. He looked in the mirror and saw dark eyes looking back, a sexy stubbled jaw, and a thin dark mustache and goatee.

"Merda, che ora è?" he thought to himself, realizing a second later, than he had thought the phrase in Italian, not English. His head was pounding and the music seemed to be getting louder.

A short aggressive woman burst into the room and shouted at him. "Christo! Mossa! Tu sei il prossimo!" He jumped up and raced after her. He was backstage of a theatre that was filled with smoke, bright lights, and upbeat electronic music. Dozens of other men were crowded around him, each surrounded by crew members adjusting their clothes, fixing their makeup, and pushing them towards the door onto the stage. One of the crew dangled some necklaces over his neck and placed a neon baseball cap on his head. They adjusted a few bracelets on his arms. A young man wearing a headset pointed at him as the crew finished by oiling his chest so he looked sweaty and rugged. In a second, he followed the man in front of him onto the runway.

It was an exhilarating experience. Dozens of cameras flashed as he walked down the runway, making his turns, and modeling his body and clothes. He felt empowered as they gazed on his nearly naked body. It was a primal and raw feeling. He turned back towards the entrance -- a completely changed man! He had become Christofano -- one of hundreds of male models working in fashion district of Milan. With every new outfit, every camera flash, and every trip down the runway, he was embracing his new life.

After the show, he found was given a backpack with a set of clothes. He assumed they were his, so his way back to the courtyard where the taxi had dropped him off. The driver was waiting there. He handed him a cell phone and passport, which he said that Christofano had left behind accidentally in the cab. He thanked him and they drove off to the "Ostello della Moda." He saw a message from the airport and the hostel on his phone. His bag had been transferred to the hostel, he was in Bunk C. He texted his friend, who he hoped would meet him at the bar for a night of celebration.

In his mind, the thoughts of the airport, the missing luggage, the mysterious taxi driver, reminded him of something -- it was odd! But, then he remembered that he had done a photo shoot in Oslo recently ... or had he? Was he meeting some American friends at the hostel? But, who did he know from America? And wasn't his career based in Milan? Was he living in a hostel? Didn't he have an apartment that he shared with his friends ... what were there names? He couldn't remember, but figured it was probably fatigue from the show.

He walked into the hostel and the host greeted him. He explained the whole situation with the luggage -- two of his friends had arrived, but he should just wait at the bar. He drained his first beer, still a little lost about why he was spending the night at this hostel. Suddenly, someone shouted out his name.

"Christo!"

He turned to the man, a wave of recognition passing over him. "Antonio!"

They talked about how tonight they were celebrating with friends. First, they needed to drink! Then, they had a surprise for Bruno ... their friend waiting upstairs!