aeroskytheforgotten - Tumblr blog

aeroskytheforgotten · 19 hours

Text

Dan stared at the bottle he had ordered. Never thinking it would actually have arrived from the sketchy online seller, the liquid within shone a bright orange. Bringing the bottle to his nose, the 20-year old nerdy college student recalled the ad: "become a hot, dumb, smelly, musky, blonde himbo Aussie surfer dude with long hair!" - what he initially thought as ridiculous and something that would only live in his fantasies, he began to think the ad might have been a little real as he popped the cork and gave it a sniff, recoiling. It smelled like the combination of the sea and a high school locker room!

The ad had promised a transformation time of 30 minutes, and for the effects to last forever! Dan looked around at his room...did he really want to do this? Leave his nerdy life behind? As soon as he began to have doubts, he forced himself to rip the cork off the bottle. Before the smell got too bad, Dan imagined the stuff was just a shot of vodka he always saw his hot roommate taking, plugged his nose, and downed the whole bottle.

As he finished the last drops of the nasty liquid, Dan felt the effects immediately. His stomach felt warm and gurgly. A wave of heat and energy washed over his body, causing him to drop the empty bottle and fall to his knees. He suddenly felt rejuvenated, as if he could go outside right this instant and put his pudgy body through a fifty mile run, while at the same time feeling a strong urge to vomit. As Dan tried to stand, he felt another wave of heat coursing through his body. Dan screamed as his veins felt like they would burst out of his skin, falling back to the floor.

Dan moaned again as the heat began to become unbearable, his shirt becoming wet with sweat as he struggled to pry it off. Panting, Dan struggled to remove his shorts too, almost feeling as if he was basking in the hot summer sun. Once his clothes were all off, Dan laid there on the floor, a puddle of sweat surrounding his body. Suddenly, the vomiting urge disappeared, and was replaced by a new one.

"I-I'm horny..." Dan mumbled as he reached down to stroke his hardening cock, a few inches long. He had never been able to get hard, and certainly had never had a wet dream or orgasm, let alone masturbate. But now, Dan couldn't stop himself from touching his cock, and the feeling was electric. It had never felt so good before!

"What is this?!" Dan gasped as his cock seemed to pulse with each stroke. Dan was in heaven, his whole body tingling as he began to play with his nipples, never before having considered that area pleasurable. He didn't even notice the slow growth of hair on his arms, chest, and legs. As Dan began to furiously stroke his lengthening cock, small blonde hairs began to peek out of his head, and a thin patch of pubic hair sprouted. Dan moaned and thrashed about, his cock pulsing with pleasure as it slowly became longer and thicker, surpassing 9 inches and growing to the width of a beer can. Dan began thrusting into his hand as the pulsating head spurted precum like a fountain, dribbling down to his new mess of blonde public hairs that was still growing, becoming an out of control forest reeking of fresh sweat.

"Oh fuck yes" Dan moaned as the rest of him began to grow. Dan's feet began to pulse and crack spreading across the cold tile floor as wild, bushy tufts of bright blonde hair sprouted between his toes and grew up his feet, soon surpassing size 12 as Dan cried out in pleasure. His legs began to swell, becoming thick, toned and covered in sweaty, sticky blonde hair, reeking of male scent and...gnarly waves? Dan began to question how he would know this smell, but the heat overcame him again as his legs pushed him taller to a striking 6'2. His thighs and ass swelled, his hips and waist widening with them as his muscles grew stronger and thicker, his ass cheeks soon swelling to the size of a small chair cushion and bouncing with every move, his hips wider than the doors as he was left with a small, round, bubble butt that shook like jello when he moved. Here too, a jungle of smelly, sweaty blonde hair consumed his ass as Dan screamed in pleasure, his hands kneading the soft flesh as he thrusted his cock into the air.

"Yesssssss" Dan cried, as the heat began to spread up from his crotch to his abdominals. His stomach began to grow outward, the pudge melting away and giving way to a firm, chiseled, rock hard 6-pack abs that glistened with sweat. Dan's nipples became dark, sensitive nubs of flesh, his pecs swollen with muscle as they began to pulse. Screaming at the pleasure coursing through his chest, Dan ran his hands up the chiseled surface of his abs, feeling them become coated in a sheen of rancid sweat that would never truly wash away. As he began to grope and massage his bloating man tits, the blonde jungle from his crotch began to consume his chest and underarms, his armpits turning into a wet, sweaty pit that would forever stink, the blonde hair growing thicker and curlier with each second. Even with his arms resting at his sides, the pits would still spill outwards, a mountain of hairy flesh and sweat. His chest became swollen, the pecs now growing large and round, a pair of thick, perky, sweaty man tits that would shake like water balloons with any movement. The hair on his chest went into overdrive, thickening and spreading as a trail formed up the middle of his back, ensuring any shirt he wore would be ruined by sweat, no matter the number of showers he had.

As Dan continued to massage the still-growing mounds of muscle on his chest, his arms began to pulse with the summer heat. With each wave, Dan screamed in ecstasy, as the veins and muscles underneath his skin swelled, becoming thicker and bigger. The reeking blonde jungle from his crotch and chest, now complete, consumed his biceps, triceps, and forearms, growing into a dense mat that would only grow and grow until the day he died, a permanent, rancid stench that would make him the subject of attention wherever he went. Dan moaned as his arms began to flex, his hands reaching up to the ceiling as his hands swelled, growing longer, larger, and thicker, the hands of a brute. As he used his new hands on his raging cock, he felt the heat once more as his shoulders began to pulse, feeling them widen as his back grew thick and powerful with strong muscle, his broad shoulders bulging with the same power.

"O-oh f-fuck..." Dan moaned, as he flexed his arms, feeling them bulge with raw strength, biceps and triceps thicker than a normal person's thighs, the smelly blonde jungle making them seem even bigger. He breathed deeply as his cock continue to leak, his whole body dripping with sweat, as the heat began to travel up into his neck as it grew thicker and wider, giving him the appearance of the jocks he wanted so much to be like. Dan moaned, feeling his voice drop deeper and deeper into a low, sensual baritone as his Adam's apple pushed outwards, forming a thick, protruding knot.

As Dan reached down to play with his hairy ass, his face began to tingle. His eyes fluttered and closed as his nose cracked pushed outwards, giving the slightly crooked appearance that it had once been broken as his lips grew plumper and fuller as his longer tongue licked their edges. Dan's teeth grew dull and slightly crooked, a perfect set for the dumb surfer boy he was becoming. A low, sensual chuckle came from deep within his chest as his jaw cracked, growing larger and wider as his cheekbones bulged.

"Heheheh" Dan chuckled again, his new, low voice reverberating throughout his body, as blonde stubble began to appear on his face and neck. Dan's hands caressed the smooth, baby-like skin of his face, before it erupted into a wild, dense jungle, covering his entire head. The smell was unbearable, but Dan could do nothing but moan in ecstasy as he raised his muscular arm to huff the sea of hair spilling from his pit. He breathed deeply, smelling the mixture of his rancid male musk, salty sweat, and the ocean, feeling a nostalgic sense of returning home. He moaned again in his new, low voice as his skull began to grow a thick set of curly, sweaty blonde locks, only adding to the smell as the last of his short, black hair changed color and began to spill behind his ears. Dan moaned again, the sound of his voice sending shivers down his spine, as his mouth filled with saliva.

"Fuuuuuck" he moaned, his tongue swirling around in the saliva, causing some to spill out as drool onto his still pulsing cock, earning Dan another wave of pleasure as his greasy locks grew even more curly, reaching the back of his neck. Dan opened his eyes, the pupils now a beautiful aquamarine, and watched his hair grow in the mirror, the light from the window glinting off the golden blonde curls.

"D-do I have long hair?" Dan mumbled, his mouth filled with spit, as he stood up and walked over to the mirror. Dan's cock bobbed with each step, precum flying everywhere, as he stared at his new, sexy, handsome body.

"I-I look like a surfer" Dan said slowly, looking at his long, wet, curly locks, shining like gold in the light. He looked at his strong, muscular arms, the blonde hair shining as it cascaded down to the jungle on his hands, before continuing to his chest. Dan's hands moved to his pecs, feeling them, before his hands traced the outline of his six pack. "I'm strong..." Dan muttered, watching his cock twitch and bob. Dan looked up to the mirror again, his new model-like face staring back at him. He looked at the blonde curls, his thick, wet, red lips, and his aquamarine eyes, feeling the drool dribble down his chin and the scent of the sea and man sweat fill the room.

Suddenly, Dan realized the potion had one more surprise for him as he felt a splitting headache, his hair growing even faster and longer.

"Owowowowwwwww" Dan moaned, grabbing his head and bending forward. His hair grew and grew, his hands running through the wavy curls, slick with grease, salt, and sweat. He looked in the mirror again, noticing a subtle shift in his eyes as he quickly realized what was happening. "Wait, n-no-" he started, as he quickly began going over calculus facts from his advanced college course, before the pain became unbearable.

Dan cried out, the words and math in his head becoming more complicated and foreign as the pain slowly morphed into a gentle, pleasant vibration. The words and math slowly slipped from his mind, his once brilliant brain turning into a dumb, empty hole, as it became harder and harder for Dan to picture even basic metal math. "Fuuuuck" Dan moaned again as the pleasant vibration consumed his whole being. "Fuckin A..." Dan whispered in his new, deep timbre as complex thoughts became harder and harder to imagine, almost feeling like he was high. He chuckled again, as the words and math disappeared from his mind. "N-nooo, I'm dumb..." Dan slurred, his voice sounding slow and drunk.

Dan blinked and chuckled, as his mind turned completely empty, only capable of simple, primal thoughts and urges. "I'm horny..." Dan growled, his voice sounding like the sexy, rugged surfer he had always dreamed of being. His new, handsome, chiseled face broke out into a stupid grin, a look that would become the new himbo's default expression. "But the fuck am I doing here..." Dan chuckled again as his dorm room began to shift and morph. He blinked and giggled as the white, clean walls turned to a worn, brown wood. He blinked and laughed as his desk shifted and molded, becoming a simple bed frame and dresser, his computer changing into a surfboard and a cooler.

"Oh fuck yessssssss" Dan moaned, his cock pulsing and dripping precum. "I'm at the beach!" Dan cried, looking around his new room. There was a small, circular window where his door had once been, allowing the sunlight to illuminate his room. Even the time on the clock changed as the heat accosted Dan one final time, this time in his vocal cords.

"Owowowow" Dan groaned and coughed as the final effects took place. His vocal cords became even more raw, coarse, and masculine, his voice dropping an octave lower. "What the fuck, mate" he gasped, his accent changing as he spoke. Gone was his once boring, nondescript American accent, replaced by a low, gruff, sexy Aussie drawl, his words slurred together and slow as he vigorously jacked his still-hard cock, his blonde pubes caked with sweat.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, uhhhh" Dan moaned, his balls beginning to pulse as the heat traveled from his neck down his spine. "G-gonna...cummm..." Dan moaned, feeling the pressure build in his nuts. He felt them begin to pulse, and then he exploded, the biggest, loudest orgasm of his life erupting from his cock, the stream of cum enormous as the windows fogged up and the floor began to soak. His cock pulsed and pulsed, a seemingly endless river of cum.

"Ughhh" Dan grunted, as his orgasm finally began to subside. "Awww shit, my dick's really fuckin big" Dan giggled, the sound reverberating through his room and causing the glass in the window to vibrate. "Mmmm, but my balls are so heavy" he groaned, cupping his fat nuts and letting the weight settle.

As he heard the final change, a small crackling noise coming from his brain, he realized the beach was gone, his old, boring life was gone, and a whole new world had opened up for him. He would never forget his old life, but it would always seem to Dan as a distant memory. Dan giggled, as his brain finally stopped working, replaced with a dumb, happy, empty void, incapable of stress or worry.

"Fuck yeah, mate!" Dan cried, his stupid, happy grin returning. "I'm a surfer dude!" he yelled, his accent slurred. He jumped around his new beachside shack, the dumb himbo bouncing around the room. He was naked, and the heat from the sun warmed his sweaty, blonde, hairy body. He breathed deeply once more, the salty, fresh air filling his lungs, the scent of the ocean mixing with the pungent smell of his own rancid, musky male scent, before walking to his dresser, his cock still hard and leaking. "Man, I gotta get my trunks on if I'm gonna score tonight" he giggled. Dan's mind was empty and happy, only able to process the most simple of thoughts, and that was good enough for him.

As he grabbed his favorite swim trunks and slipped them on, he walked back over to the window, looking out onto the beach. There were hot girls and guys, all scantily clad and tan, running about, playing in the waves and lounging. He could feel the sand between his toes, and could almost taste the cool, crisp water of the sea. He was finally free of his old life, and now he was here, the happiest himbo surfer there ever was.

336 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 2 days

Text

Red Zone

There's nothing more I love than admiring the beauty of jocks playing at their best. I fell into sport photography in college with a photography class and tried taking photos of the football team. I've always enjoyed spectating these ripped guys showcasing their power and speed. It wasn't a gay thing. I admired the strength and skill these players have. Putting it on film was my way of sharing my love of sports through my eyes.

After a few years in the sports photography business, I finally have the respect of the local teams. One apparently put in a good word for me because I got a call to film some of the nearby rugby team play. A chance to capture up close to arguably the most brutish men in sports was an honor and I was so excited.

I arrived the first day at the stadium to discover the men all gathered in the locker room. They were changing for the game and I couldn't help but notice these muscle bears' physiques. The way they filled out their shirts with both muscle and fat was unlike any other sports player. Needless to say their bums were thick as well as their juicy thighs supporting them.

I introduced myself to some of the players and let them know I'd be taking pictures of them playing. You couldn't find more lovable blokes. They were clearly meat heads who lived and breathed Rugby.

"Cheers, mate. Happy to have yah." said Marcus, the captain. "Coach told us you'd be here. Come to think of it, we have an extra jersey here. Try it on. You'll look like one of us."

I was hesitant at first but ultimately took it as a nice gesture. I took my collared shirt off and then slid on the red uniform.

"A bit small to be on our scrum, but it looks good on yah." The shirt had a tingly feeling to it, and I felt a surge of energy flowing through me. "Thanks a lot! Looking forward to getting some good shots."

"Make sure to get our good side," Marcus said with a wink. He looked away "Alright you bunch of idiots, let's get out there!"

I followed the team out to the field never feeling better, and was running on a high as if I had several redbulls or preworkout.

The game began and I started focusing in on Marcus. He had the ball and started sprinting forward. I zoomed in and took a shot of him sprinting. I looked at the preview, and it was a great action shot.

I was trying to focus on the game but my legs were overcome by a warming sensation. I felt my thighs and calves swell. They were filling with muscle as hard as rocks and pushed my khakis to the max. I kept focus on the game but the warmth was slowly moving up my body.

I next shot was of the captain being knocked down by the flanker on the opposing team. The perfect shot of the flanker holding the captain in mid air. It was then that the warmth moved up to my glutes. My ass inflated until the khakis began tearing. The khakis ripped until they fell off my legs, revealing a pair of red rugby shorts underneath. I felt a breeze flow through my leg hairs as they grew longer and bushier. My socks changing to red knee socks and black cleats.

There was a turnover of the ball on the field as a Center from the opposing team gained control. The player pivoted and passed the ball to one of their runners. I snapped a photo of the Center's pass and felt the warmth spread across to my dick and started feeling crazy horny. It was growing and pushing a tent in my rugby shorts until it was a girthy 10 inches. I was noticing how great the teams' legs looked in those shorts. I could feel my sexual desires becoming more open. I wanted to appreciate these players by giving them the best night of their lives.

I winced as my back cracked, my spine lengthened and my height increased several inches. My relatively flat chest became chiseled like it was being sculpted in real time. I felt the fat sucked from my abs as they went from tender to firm. My pecs becoming beefy pillows from what looked like years of lifting.

The opposing team made it to the other side and scored. I zoomed in on Marcus and he was looking my way. I had an odd feeling but felt compelled to snap a photo of him. He was smiling with a smirk on his face. I felt the warmth finally move up to my head. My thoughts of shooting the game drifted away as my jaw line cracked into a more square shape. My facial features becoming more symmetrical and rugged. I felt my beard grow in fuller and my hair bleaching to a sun kissed blonde. I dropped my camera and stared blankly until the ref called for the halftime break.

Marcus jogged over and studied me up and down. "You've been wasting away behind that camera. We're down by 3 and I think you'll be of better use helping the team make a comeback."

He walked up to me and brought his lips to mine. There was a surge of memories filling my mind. Flashbacks of playing for the team for years. Years of practice drills, sweaty guys tackling me to the ground. Most of all, my relationship with the guy who made me fall in love with rugby in the first place, Marcus.

"Anything for you, babe."

490 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 2 days

Text

Becoming Bryce

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-15 by newyoutf ---

Alex opened the door of his apartment and threw his keys onto the counter, his eyes darting around. He’d been expecting a delivery today, the delivery notification came in just minutes ago.

“God damn Bryce, couldn’t even accept the delivery, the one favor I’ve asked,” Alex thought to himself.

Bryce was Alex’s roommate. A large, handsome jock of a man; quite the opposite of Alex. If Bryce wasn’t home he’d be at the beach, the gym, or out hitting on everything that had a pulse. Alex had always had a love/hate relationship with the jock, but he was also jealous that he wasn’t and couldn’t ever be muscular and manly in the same way that Bryce was.

“Hey, Bryce, you here? I had a delivery?” Alex asked loudly.

A few days ago Alex had seen an oddly specific ad in his Instagram feed for a special kind of spray-on supplement that claimed to be able to “bring out the jock in you!”. The twenty-four-year-old had been trying desperately to pack some weight onto his thin body, and in that desperation, anything that claimed it might help was an option.

Alex walked toward Bryce’s room, the door half shut but the light still on.

“Oh yeah man, got it here!”, Bryce’s unmistakable, deep voice echoed out from behind the door.

He opened the door to see the small box open on the floor, the shipping label torn through the middle with the words “From: New You Inc.” still partially legible.

The six-foot-two Bryce was standing at his desk, shirtless, with his strong, hairy chest on full display. Alex spied a small spray canister with the label “Jock Formula” written across it in Bryce’s meaty hand.

“No!“ Before Alex could stop him the dimwitted stud pressed down on the cap and sprayed it under his arm.

“Huh… it’s already empty?” the jock said, confused because he hadn’t bothered to read any of the included writing.

“Yeah, it’s a single dose, Bryce! That shit was expensive,” Alex bemoaned, barely containing his anger.

“Oh shit, sorry man,” Bryce turned to face Alex, a regretful grimace crossing his handsome face.

“What’s the deal anyway, it smells like… sweat? Aren’t these sorts of things meant to smell good?” Bryce said, sniffing his hairy underarm.

“That’s probably just you. It’s not a fragrance anyway, it’s was meant to be some kind of supplement, to help me you know, bulk up a bit,” Alex replied bashfully.

He snatched the empty canister from Bryce’s hand and examined the bottle, reading the fine print on the side: “Single-dose only. Warning: Strictly for use only by men who do not match the description of a jock. Effects are unknown outside of this group.”

“Weird warning... Whatever, it was probably just a scam like all the rest anyway,” Alex thought in defeat as he turned to leave Bryce’s sweaty room only to be startled by a heaving groan from behind him.

“Augh!”

The loud, lurching moan made Alex jump. He turned to see Bryce bracing against the desk with his mouth hanging open and breathing heavily.

“Ugh, fuck!”, Bryce lightly thrust his hips forward and slumped into the desk chair sitting next to him.

“Bryce? Are you okay?” Alex spoke slowly with genuine concern.

The jock now had an enormous, raging boner visible through his loose gym shorts. Alex blushed staring at the outline of his hunky roommate's long, thick cock.

“I… I think I’m having a reaction or something man...,” Bryce moaned, having difficulty moving off the chair. He tried repeatedly to stand only to moan and fall back down.

Alex thought back to the odd warning label on the bottle and began to panic. What would happen if a jock tried to use the spray? Bryce’s rolled his eyes back as he thrust slowly and deeply upward. A large, damp patch appeared on the front of the shorts, followed by large loads of cum seeping through the fabric. Alex watched in astonishment as the stained shorts began to disintegrate, revealing the throbbing eight-inch cock that was contained within. Bryce heaved and moaned as ropes of cum shot up his thick abs.

Something about Bryce’s body looked unusual at this stage. Alex could have sworn the tall man looked a bit shorter. Indeed, Bryce was shrinking, and at a rapidly accelerating pace. His chest appeared to flatten and his muscular limbs deflated and retracted. His entire body was taking on a fabric-like texture as it rapidly receded inwards. Soon, all that was left of Alex’s roommate was a jockstrap sitting in the chair.

Alex stumbled backward in shock and sat on the side of Bryce’s bed. His mind was swirling with panic as he clasped his hands over his face, certain his situation was a bad dream and that he’d wake up any second. A light thud followed by brushing across his ankle caused him to lower his hands and see that the jockstrap had moved itself to the floor and attempted to push itself under his feet.

Alex screamed and recoiled his legs from the floor, jumping upright and unwittingly giving the jockstrap the perfect opportunity as it flew up his legs.

“Fuck! Get off!” Alex yelped as he hopped across the floor, slamming into the desk and drawers trying to pull the material away from his shorts. His horror only deepened when his shorts sizzled and frayed in contact with the jockstrap, melting into the air within seconds. His briefs met the same fate only moments later. There was no contest to be had. The jockstrap easily forced its way up his now bare legs and wrapped itself around his ass and cock.

“What the fuck?! Get off! G- get... augh!” Alex hunched over, stabilizing himself on Bryce’s desk. The sensation of the jockstrap hugging his soft cock was mind-blowing. Between gasps of pleasure, Alex heard a quiet cracking, whimpering in response as his legs began to creak, stretching longer. He thrashed backward from his hunched position allowing his back to soar taller. Alex’s arms felt heavier as they too stretched longer. Groans escaped his lips as the lengthening stopped. The formerly five-foot-nine man was now a lanky six-foot-two. However, he wouldn’t be lanky for long.

Alex’s thighs ached and pulsed. He placed his hands on them, groaning as the muscles swelled and expanded. He pushed harder into the throbbing muscles as if pushing back might stop what was happening. But the thighs just continued to bulge with muscle.

The straps around Alex’s rear tightened harder and harder as his ass swelled into them, round and firm. He grunted, shooting a massive load into the jockstrap while his cheeks expanded. Brown hair began to swirl out of the perfect globes and across his massive legs. It spread across his shins while his calves bubbled and bulged with strength.

Something about Alex’s new legs looked vaguely familiar to him, but his train of thought was interrupted by the upward spread of the changes.

“Please... no,” the groans bubbled from Alex’s throat as his stomach began to tighten. Looking downward he could see the soft outline of abs appear. The bulges of muscle only deepened as the abs thickened further. He delicately and fearfully brushed his hands against his new abs. Those legs, those abs... Alex recognized them now. They were unmistakably Bryce’s. His mind was gripped by fear, “No... no... I can’t be...”

He lurched and gasped feeling his nipples become erect, begging to be touched as muscle began to form below them. Alex blew another load feeling the thick, meaty pecs surge forth from his chest, coated in a dusting of dark, manly hair. Whatever doubt he had was washed away, this was his roommate’s chest. Alex couldn’t help but think ahead, that he’d gain Bryce’s muscular arms, his looks, his massive cock. Fear quickly gave way to desire. He couldn’t resist, he was turning into his hot roommate and the thought turned him on immensely.

“Oh fuck yeah,” a smirk crossed his face as the pressure rose in his shoulders, groaning as they pushed outwards, growing and broadening. He gripped one of the biceps with his hand tightly feeling his skinny arms begin to inflate. His biceps and triceps gradually swelled and packed on strong muscle, his grip being forced more and more open, unable to come close to holding the beautifully thick arms. Alex’s cock pulsed hard at the realization these dominant, muscular arms were truly his. His thin forearms writhed and twitched as muscle blossomed and grew within them. Veins snaked across them, running down his hands, and followed by a trail of new hairs. Alex held his trembling digits in front of his face, watching and feeling his palms creak and expand. The fingers twitched as they soared outward into the air, growing unbelievably long and proportionately meaty. Alex moaned in delight at the feeling of the weight and size of his new digits.

The same erotic stretching sensation that plagued Alex’s hands next infected his feet. Knowing that Bryce wore a size twelve, Alex knew what he was in for as the toes on his size eight feet began to stretch longer. His toes raged against his no-show socks, stretching the cotton beyond belief. Beneath the thin, strained material he could them stretching longer and thicker before they tore through. The hairy digits twitched and throbbed as his soles spread longer and wider across the floor. Alex gawked at the big feet, recognizing them as Bryce’s, but now his own.

Alex growled in anticipation as the changes rippled up his neck, causing it to widen and thicken. His sensual grunts lowered in pitch as his vocal cords morphed. His nostrils flared outward and inhaled deeply as the small button nose grew longer and thicker. A sharper, broader, more attractive jawline emerged from his face while his cheekbones shifted. His cock drooled with the knowledge that he was transforming into his handsome, jock roommate. The short hair on his head thickened and grew out, gaining waves and curls while darkening a shade. His teeth glimmered as his smile becoming a cocky smirk no one could resist. Reaching to his face, he could feel the short stubbly beard that Bryce usually had forcing its way out.

Alex turned to the mirrored wardrobe at his right, drenched in sweat, and immediately released a massive wad of cum at the sight of the manly face, Bryce’s face, looking back at him.

Alex felt his balls surge and rumble as they inflated. Emptied of cum from repeated orgasms prior, he felt them weighed down heavier, filling with new, hot, jock cum. He smiled with a dumb, devilish grin as his cock began to quiver and throb, signaling what was next to come.

An inhuman roar spilled from Alex’s mouth as his cock began to swell in size. The head bulged against the jockstrap, bloating outward and spewing more cum into the soaked jockstrap. The lengthening cock shoved against the material, pushing it further and further away from his waist and offering a view of the thickening, veiny shaft within.

Alex muttered under his breath, enthralled by the sensation of his cock morphing into a carbon copy of his roommate’s. He rubbed his hands across his beefy pecs and abs, taking in his new form and embracing the big, manly jock he now was.

His cock bounced upward as it slipped out the top of the jockstrap, having grown too large. The front of the jockstrap snapped back elastically against the top of Alex’s hairy legs. He gazed downward, panting at the massive, pulsating cock. Cum oozed out of the mushroom head, running down his eight-inch shaft. It quivered, longing to be stroked, and Alex was all too happy to oblige. He gripped the monster in his hand and throttled it.

The jock couldn’t last long, given he'd been teetering on the brink since the very beginning. Alex bellowed as the most intense orgasm of his life rocked his entire body. His large balls tensed as cum repeatedly rocketed out of the hard python, spraying up his hard, muscular chest and across the room; his shy, nerdy personality traits being pumped away with it.

Blinded from the pleasure, his mind blurred, the gaps that had formed being filled with new traits: sports, the gym, and sex were all that mattered to him now. Once the post-orgasmic glow passed the new and improved Alex made a stupid grin, impressed with the mess he’d made.

He stuffed his large, soft cock back into the jockstrap, smearing it with sweat and cum. He shuddered, feeling something strange across his body as if a moan were echoing out from the jockstrap.

He looked down at the piece of fabric, “Hey Bryce, hope you’re liking it down there, bro,” Alex snickered as he adjusted his package.

135 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 2 days

Text

Was It Something You Ate?

Devon had always had it easy, born the son of a billionaire to one of the best pharmaceutical companies in the world he never truly had to work for anything. His dad had paid his way through all of his schooling turning Fs into As with nothing but a pen and a check book. University was even easier, Devon spent a majority of his time in other countries whilst or partying, it was only when he failed every class and was barred from graduation did his dad offer to build a new research facility for the school and suddenly Devon was graduating with honours. Devon never even experienced what it was to deal with shame, as an only child both his parents showered him with praise. Even when he got drunk and crashed the family boat his parents commended his bravery in such a frightening event. Life was easy as a gay man too, his family never cared and once his dad bought Devon his own house and allowed him to hire his own help he was constantly surrounded by masculine buff men who he paid extra to walk around shirtless.

Once Devon even went as far as to give his gardener a $4000 dollar tip just to let Devon film him drinking from the hose on his hands and knees. Of course Devon leaves out the part where he threatened to fire his gardener unless he allowed himself to be filmed.

A few months ago, Devon got the worst news of his life. His dad had told him he had to work for his weekly allowance of 1 million. If he didn't then his allowance would be slashed to a pitiful $400k. He couldn't bare to live like a peasant on such a pathetic amount of money so he agreed to his dad's outrageous terms. Devon had to work 1 hour a day for 4 days each week. Like some disgusting labour mule.

Devon had been working at the head office for 3 weeks and every day he called his dad begging to quit. A man like him wasn't meant for such things.

Devon stood on the stairs in front of the massive corporate building adjusting his suit readying for another day of hard labour. He checked his watch. 11:30am. Devon let out a tired sigh as he jogged up the stairs towards the door.

His dad had told him he had to come in any time before 12pm, Monday - Thursday. Devon had been given the role of "Team Motivator" and his job was to come in and hype up the employees.

Devon's elevator arrived at his office floor, already he needed his 15 minute break for the day, looking around seeing all these unattractive people. He never understood why the poor never took their looks more seriously or why there was always a terrible odour around people like them.

Devon stood in the elevator and raised his hand above his head. He swiped his hand down slowly and inch away from his face, he narrowed his tired eyes, cocked a toothy fuck boy smile and began to walk in-between the cubicles with the swagger only a rich fuck boy could have.

"hey hey hey team, how are those numbers looking? we got the advertisements out this morning? if not make sure you get it done by lunch, hey carol what's goin on with the boys in the lab? we got that new drug ready to roll out by friday"

A few people looked up from their desks at his peacocking and parading.

Devon clapped his hands together as he got closer to his office door. "Come on Come on people!! we got work to do, lets have a great day."

Devon slipped into his office and slammed the door shut. Inside he leant his back against it and let out an exhausted heavy sigh. He had no idea how he was going to go clubbing tonight after working so hard, but a wave of pride hit him as he heard the sounds of muttering out amongst the workers, he had done his job, inspired them.

Of course in reality Devon had done nothing at all. Most of the people on his floor had been working in the office since 7am and everyone ignored his morning speech as it was the exact same rehearsed scripted speech he had been saying each morning since his first day.

Numbers weren't part of their department,

There were no advertisements due this morning,

The boys in the lab didn't have any upcoming deadline,

There was no Carol.

Devon waltzed over to his break area at the back of his office. Originally meant for small intimate meetings, Devon had decked it out with a plasma screen TV and all his streaming services. Not that he got to use it much, he only got to be in his office for 45 minutes of his working day and that really only meant he got to watch an episode of something if he was lucky. Currently he was watching a new fitness challenge show where 20 jacked dudes were pitted against each other in different fitness challenges.

Devon threw himself back on the couch in a cocky man spread and rested his hand on his crotch. Whilst he respected the fact that he couldn't jerk off in the office, it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy how his dick felt hard whilst he watched a handful of jacked men compete for money.

30 minutes into his show and Devon saw a guy in a lab coat walking past his office window. The guy was wearing a blue button down shirt that was slightly loose in the front. He let out a loud sigh and got up from his couch walking over to his office door. Devon swung the door open and called out to the man in the lab coat before gesturing him to come into his officer by curling his index finger repeatedly.

The guy in the lab coat walked into Devon's office

"shut the door behind you bro,"

The man in the lab coat shut the door and turned to Devon all confused

"What is your name man?"

"John"

"Do you know what my job here is John?"

"Ill be honest with you Devon, nobody really knows what you do here" John replied with a cheeky smirk

Devon laughed loudly whilst slapping his desk with one hand,

"Ya know man, my dad had given me the important mantis of motivating our team"

"M-mantis? do you mean mantle?" John lowered his eyebrows confused at how this guy had somehow convinced his dad to give him the biggest office in the building.

"not important. my job is to make sure the people who work at our company are the best they can be"

The thought that maybe Devon did know what he was talking about entered John's mind, he thought maybe he was trained in motivation speaking and would talk to people one on one to help them better manage their work life balance

"look buddy, I can tell, with the way that shirt of yours is sagging in the front, your shoulders not filling out giving you that hot V shape, no pec cleavage on display and that ugly as fuck white coat, you are not living your best life" Devon gestured his hands either side with a big smirk on his face like he had seen his dad do when he was talking to other business men.

The benefit of the doubt dropped out of John's mind. "Nope, this guys a fucking moron" he thought to himself.

"Devon, I appreciate the concern, but I think I'm fine"

"I'll let you in on a little secret man, if a gay stud like me doesn't want to see you on your back, you're fat.."

"WOAH, DEVON THAT IS INSANELY NOT OKAY"

"bro, I'm just trying to be the nice guy and tell you what other people won't" Devon cockily dropped down into his nice leather chair behind his desk. "ya know, my pool guy had a kid and 2 weeks after his abs started to fade and do you know what I did?"

John wanted to say something clever but it would probably go over Devon's head, or worse, if he understood it he might lose his job.

"I fired him John, I don't want some fatty in a speedo working on my pool, and I don't want fat guys working here either"

John was too caught off guard by the first part of Devon's statement

"You make your staff work in speedo's? I think that might be illegal?"

"Look, dude, don't you wanna look like me I mean, check me out. biceps hugging my shirt, shoulders pulling it apart, my chest popping out catching everyone's attention, my abs so fucking tight you can see them through my shirt. I look HOT, you look FAT Johnny"

"Okay, I'm not even chubby though? I'm 6.2 and 85kg. I'm not exactly overweight"

"Buddy you still don't get it so let me spell it out for you, a fit body is hot, a 2 pack means you are fat, no abs showing at all? you're overweight!"

John fluttered his eyes, stunned by Devon's view of the world.

"I thank you for, whatever the hell this was Devon but I have a job to actually get back to"

John began to walk out of the office before Devon called out to him, a tone of desperation in his voice.

"WAIT....can you get me a coffee, almond milk, iced, NO WHIPPED CREAM, I want a drop that weighs exactly one quarter of a gram of caramel mixed in counter clock wise with a bamboo spoon. AND NO PLASTIC OR PAPER CUPS make sure you get it put in one of those little metal ones, no lid.

"No, Devon that isn't my job"

"You work for my dad, so if you want to keep working for my dad you'll do it"

John gritted his teeth. He unfortunately couldn't call out the rich boy on any of his bullshit without risking his entire career, But maybe there was something else he could do.

A few minutes past and John returned to Devon walking out of his office.

"Ah, great timing John, I'm just leaving"

Devon snatched the coffee out of John's hand and noticed something strange. A purple swirl drifting and dispersing into the coffee.

"What's this?" Devon said raising the corner of his lip in disgust.

"oh, its purple caramel, less calories" John quickly blurted out.

All concern dropped from Devon's mind as he took a sip of his drink.

"great call man, its that kind of intimidation we want to encourage here"

John had to stop himself from slamming the palm of his hand into his forehead, clearly Devon meant initiative.

"Ya know, man you might wanna switch to this low calorie caramel I told you about, because when I take over from my dad, first thing I'll do, anyone without a six pack is being let go"

John just gritted his teeth and smiled, "great idea, I'll have to give it a try"

Devon had already left before John could finish his sentence, but John didn't care, in fact he was hoping that coffee would keep Devon away for at least a few months.

--------------

Devon stepped out of his car throwing the metal coffee cup on the back seat behind him. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to his driver and he began jogging up the stone stairs to the front door of his mansion.

As Devon jogged up the stairs he felt something strange. His ass felt heavier, tighter against his carefully tailored pants. He felt it bounce and jiggle on his way up and once he got to his front door he had to stop and massage it briefly. It hurt worse than that time he was grounded and had to fly to take a 12 hour flight in business class.

He entered his house and instantly unbuttoned his pants, after a long hard day at the office he just wanted to get his work clothes off and wash the smell of poor people out of his hair. Devon undressed himself as he walked down the hallway, throwing his clothes on the ground behind him. Someone would be by to pick them up later, he was never sure of exactly who picked up his clothes but it was someone on his staff. He walked into his elegant bathroom covered in tiles and stone work imported all the way from Italy, his bathroom alone cost more than some peoples houses, of course when he moved out and had his house built his dad forked out for all the costs so he wasn't even sure how much everything really cost.

Devon pulled his hair out from his short pony tail and let it hang down. He flexed his broad shoulders in the mirror, his perfectly defined muscles. He wasn't a bodybuilder by any means but he still had a much better body than most people he came across.

His pecs were the main attraction and he often experienced men he brought home squeezing them as he bounced them. His flowing locks drove men wild, being a billionaire helped to prevent any thinning so often the men he slept with were not only turned on by his angelic looks but there was also a hint of jealousy when they ran their hands through his hair, which did nothing but turn Devon on more.

But something was different about him today, his abs were wrong. Normally a beautiful and cut six pack but now he was only seeing 4, and barely 4.

He felt his stomach, the bottom towards his pelvis felt like it was sticking out, ever so slightly.

"oh well, probably bloated from the caramel" he thought to himself

Devon pressed a button on the wall and instantly the water began to flow at the perfect temperature, no need to wait or pathetically dangle his hand in the water like a peasant, he just pressed a button and stepped in. As he went to step in the shower something else caught his eye, something behind him.

"Was my ass always this big?" he asked himself allowed.

Reaching down he grabbed handful of his own ass, it was still firm but it wasn't as hard as stone like he was used to, there was a new squeeze to it, like trying to work with cold clay. Devon took his finger and placed it under his ass cheek, flicking upwards he watched as his whole ass rippled and bounced more than he was used to.

*sigh* "maybe I'll only train legs once a week for a bit, don't want anyone thinking I'm a bottom"

Devon stepped into the water, instantly he felt relaxed as the warm water washed over his face and ran down his body. He squeezed out a decent amount of his tropical scented soap into the palm of his hand and began to work it over his entire body. Washing himself but also taking the time to feel himself. He got hard as he pictured his own perfection, his own brilliance.

Using the lotion he worked his way down to his pelvis, and then to his dick. Devon closed his eyes and bit his lip as he faced into the water, using both hands to rub and pleasure his 12 inches. He couldn't help it, he loved himself so much, he loved his body. He often fantasied about cloning himself just so he could have the experience so many others had been graced with, sleeping with the perfect man.

Devon moaned feeling the water on his lips and the pleasure he brought to himself. He was so close but something started to bother him. He felt hungry, which was unusual because he had such a strict diet routine and always ate at the perfect time every day. He tried to supress the feeling instead focusing on the building pleasure, but it became harder to do so the longer he lasted. The only downside to lasting an hour was it was easy for him to accidentally edge himself if he got too distracted. Unfortunately this was one of those time.

Devon's stomach let out a loud audible groan and he started to feel not just a little peckish, but he felt starved, like he had forgotten breakfast and all his morning snacks.

"uuugggh" He moaned as he let go of himself and turned his attention to finishing his shower routine.

He started pulling out small bottles from a small alcove build into the marble walls of his shower. Starting his multi-step face routine, ignoring the pain in his stomach. It was only when he started his hair routine that he all became a bit much and his stomach tenses letting out an audible grumble.

Devon's hands dropped from his hair to his stomach as he grabbed it from the hunger pains. It felt, almost plump as he rubbed it trying to soothe it. He quickly washed the conditioner out of his hair and got out of the shower.

Pressing a button on the wall an intense heat kicked in as the light above started radiating heat into the room instantly helping the water dry up on his skin. Devon closed his eyes and looked up at the roof letting the water droplets dry up, but the noises from his stomach didn't stop, it got worse. Every few seconds his stomach would let out a loud grumble.

"fuuuuckk, who knew one coffee would get me so bloated..."

Reaching into a small draw Devon pulled out a paid of white underwear which he slipped on. As he did he felt the back struggle to fit. Everything was perfectly tailored to his body to make him look his best but this pair felt weird on him. He felt his ass jiggle as the fabric slide over. He felt the meat of his ass cheeks spilling out of the sides and he could feel the fabric tightly stretch across his behind. As he took his first steps the underwear only felt more uncomfortable, like it was three sizes too small. He walked around the small corner in the bathroom back to the mirror so he could get a better look.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Devon screamed in shock as he stared at the reflection before him.

Devon stood there in shock as he looked at the chubby man before himself.

"I-I- OH GOD, I-I'M FAT"

His stomach loudly grumbled, almost like it was responding too him

"uuuuggghhh, oh god" Devon moaned as he grabbed his new chubby belly with both hands desperately hoping he could push it back in.

His body felt like it wasn't his. He could still feel all the muscle tone it was just buried under a layer of blubber. Taking a step forward he watched as his stomach jiggled. He grabbed his phone off the counter top as he started to panic. He sent out a mass message to everyone on his staff.

"EVERYONE GO HOME AND TAKE THE WEEK OFF, GOING ON MY TRIP EARLY"

Instantly Devon's stomach grumbled. He tossed his phone down on the bench, closed his eyes and grabbed his stomach as a reaction to the pain. The pain got worse as his stomach's grumbling turned to gurgling.

Devon began taking in deep breaths, with each breath his stomach expanded, and with each exhale it deflated, but not all the way. Devon began to itch all over. With on hand already on his stomach he took his one free and desperately began to itch his chest and arms.

He watched as his thin layer of hair darkened and grew longer, slowly making him look like he had never waxed in his life. After a few minutes the itchiness began to die down and Devon's second hand moved down to help massage his complaining gut.

"wh-what's happening to me" Devon cried out, tears starting to well in his eyes.

Suddenly his stomach let out an insatiably loud groan, followed by a noise he had never heard before.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGG"

Devon yelled out in pain and watched in the mirror as his chubby belly rapidly expanded into a big round gut within an instant. It took him a minute to recover and adjust to the pain. He thought his skin had surely just split open, but it hadn't, what he saw in the mirror was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

Devon was greeted by a large hairy bouncing gut.

"OH MY GOD, W-WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, I LOOK LIKE SOME FUCKING PIG"

Devon bounced his gut with his hands and watched it shake like jelly.

Within a matter of minutes, Devon had gone from sexy billionaire who was on magazines around the world, to a fat greasy pig.

He couldn't help but bounce his gelatinous belly in shock, he almost burst into tears at what a fat freak he had become. He was disgusted by himself, he couldn't go to work like this, he couldn't let his staff see him like this, but the worst part about becoming a fat pig.

He was starving.

-------------

Two weeks went by and Devon's mansion had started to become a mess after he sent all his staff away telling them he was off on his trip. His towels and clothes scattered all over the floor. Take out bags and food containers were all around his house. Without someone to pick up after him, Devon was disgusting.

He sat on his couch taking a multiple food containers out of two paper bags that had just been delivered to his door. His stomach loudly groaned. Devon picked up his phone off the coffee table and opened Instagram. The first post was that of a friend who had actually gone on the trip he had planned to take.

It was a photo of his friend Todd standing next to a tall black bodybuilder on a tropical island, with the caption 'I think I found love out here in the sun'

Devon's stomped his feet causing his meaty thighs to tremble.

"ITS NOT FAIIIRRRR, I SHOULD BE OUT THERE, THAT BIG HUNK OF MEAT SHOULD BE DATING ME, M E, NOT TODD"

tears started welling up in his eyes Devon flicked open a white food box on his coffee table revealing a beautifully decorated white chocolate mud cake which he instantly destroyed by digging his hands into it and stuffing it in his face.

between in monstrous and obnoxious chewing he stuff grabbing his belly and jiggling it with one hand.

"WHEN WILL YOU GO AWAY" Devon cried as he shovelled more expensive food in his mouth and washed it down with a bottle of lemonade like a spoilt pig.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

sooner or later he'd realise if he wanted it gone, he was going to have to work for it...

---------

NOTE: hope you all enjoyed this, my inbox has a bunch of requests begging for a weight gain story and whilst I don't tend to write this sort of thing too often I thought I'd feed the hunger so to speak and write one for those wishing for one.

186 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 2 days

Text

I woke up.

I’m locked on a metallic chair, handcuffs tethering me to the armrests and the footrest. Looking around, I can see weathered walls made out of raw concrete encasing me inside a small and dingy room. A single light bulb hangs from the ceiling, coloring the walls with a subtle yellow hue, and a metallic vent bores through the top of the room. The inside of the room, however, is very bare, safe for some tall boxes with monitors and lights, looking like medical appliances, liked to a faucet by a long black tether. Some other strings come out of it, seemingly worming their way towards me. They’re actually linked to me, one of them arriving on a round object stuck on the right of my torso, and other ending their way inside some white cotton on my right arm.

If the walls were white instead of the dull gray, I would have thought I am kept inside a hospital. However, this whole setup seems to be unofficial, and underground.

Suddenly, two pairs of footsteps open a door behind me, and make their way to the medical appliances, putting on facemasks and latex gloves. Although they turn their back to me, I noticed that they both seem to have big beards, but most of all, they are both quite well-built, quite a lot of mass hiding below their white blouses. They seem to speak to one another in an unknown language, perhaps Arabic, or Russian… I’ll admit I don’t know much about languages.

But then, they face me, syringes and other products in hand.

“Hello, subject #166.” One of the two men, the one with lighter skin, says in a perfect English. “Welcome to our humble laboratory.”

I try to answer him, but find that there’s a rag inside my mouth.

“Yes, hello to you too.” I see the man smiling to me thanks to his eyes squinting a bit. If the coronavirus pandemic taught us anything, it would be how to recognize facial expressions behind a mask. “I’m sorry to have gagged you, and to have kidnapped you during your everyday routine. Don’t worry, we will have a team dedicated to fixing your old life, your loved ones will be safe.” He says in a reassuring tone… that does not really manage to reassure me. - Be careful, if it fails…” The other guy with darker skin says, bearing a thicker accent, before being interrupted. - He will be given morphine. He won’t remember anything, and if it succeeds, these are things he should be aware of.”

The guy with the darker skin looks away, and strokes his long beard, visibly annoyed at being told off.

“So, subject #166. Let’s just say that… we need some more men. To reestablish justice in our… messy world.”

I stare at him, unconvinced. I don’t know what he’s going to try to sell me, but considering he’s kidnapped and chained me, I don’t think I should buy.

“That’s why we find some… deserving men to help us. And you are here because we chose you, congrats !”

He agitates his right arm, visibly smiling behind the mask at the same time, to pathetically try to muster excitement, though not moving his left arm holding the syringe. He holds this position a little while, but seeing nothing but consternation coming from both mine and his colleague’s face, he awkwardly gets back in position.

“Ugh, one day I’ll be able to do this without putting on a show…” He sighs. - Well, you should just inject after meeting the patient.” Answers his colleague. - But then it’s not as fun.”

Then, in large but slow movement, enough not to be aggressive, the guy draws his hand close to my right arm, holding the syringe close to my skin. I get tense, and try to avoid it. I don’t want to have this, whatever it contains, being put in my blood ! Plus I don’t like syringes ! But he puts his right hand one on my upper arm, holding my elbow still.

“Don’t worry, we have found a way to combine the anesthetics and the muscle growth formula together, and in a way that is even better than instilling them separately. Now, you should feel a lot less pain than previous subjects !”

What ? A lot less pain ? So not only will the sting be painful, but its content will be even more painful ? And what was that about muscle growth ? I… I don’t understand ! But before I can think harder about this state of affairs, the syringe was inserted in my skin.

It hurts.

Its contents are hollowed, and then the syringe is drawn out of my flesh. The pain is still real, but doesn’t seem as hard as advertised. The pain from the syringe itself is even fading quite rapidly, that’s a lot faster than usual ! As if I was under anesthetics !

…

Wait.

I look down at my arm, and see it shaking.

The pain is returning, and my arm is somehow… growing ?

I cry through the rag in my mouth as the pain makes itself more and more known throughout my body. At some point, I can’t really look down anymore, so much in pain I am, but I can imagine what I am going through by the types of pain I feel. When I feel some cracking in my shoulders, I can imagine them becoming larger, and getting more muscular. When I feel bloating on my torso, I can imagine my pectorals swelling. When I feel tightening on my belly, I can imagine the fat turning to abdominals. When I feel cramps in my legs, I can imagine them growing and strengthening.

My whole body feels like it’s burning, and I try to show my pain as I can, making sounds so loud I almost missed that one of them whispered to the other that my reaction showed incredible progress compared to the others. God, it hurts so much… my head hurts… I can only feel for the other… like… 166 minus one ? Ugh… what’s the result… ugh… six minus one is five ? So… 165 ? God, it’s so hard to do maths when your mind is this clouded like that ! But yeah, I feel for the 165 other men…

As the pain subsides, I feel like I’m on a cloud, everything happening in a blur. Is it all the pain I felt, or is it due to the anesthetics making me dizzy ? Whatever it is… it’s just all weird… everything feels slow and fast at the same time… you get what I mean ?

“You okay ?” Says that first guy.

God, he came out of nowhere ! And… why is he so loud ! I’m… so dizzy…

“Looking at your eyes… the morphine did its job. And looking at you, the new solution was a great success ! Finally !” He seems somehow relieved by that. “Now, we’re going to be able to do the necessary adjustments to make you into a worthy mujaheddin for Allah’s army !” He adds, jovial.

W-wait… these words seem familiar… like, they’re bad or something ? God, I feel so dizzy, I can’t think properly…

“So, I’ll start by putting in those handy earphones. They will teach you everything you need to know, don’t worry !”

I suddenly feel two… balls ? being fit snuggly inside my ears. There is some sound being emitted from them… but I can’t concentrate on them. They just blur along with everything else. The only thing I can actually concentrate on is the voice of the scientists, only one of them really talking.

“Now, it won’t be instant, and you’ll feel yourself being more and more… adjusted. But before we leave you, there’s only one thing we need to fix still. See, you’re supposed to be operational in a few days, but there’s not enough time for you to grow the appropriate style for the job.” I can feel his almost sadistic smile, even though I can’t see it. “So we’ll help you. Osman ?”

From the corner of my eye, I see the darker man, I guess he’s Osman, giving the other man a bottle. The lighter-skinned man squeezes some cream from it onto his latex glove, and approaches me, spreading it on my whole jaw. However, he does avoid my upper lip.

After a while, he steps out from my chair, and seems to smile.

“Well, on that, we’ll leave you to it ! Don’t worry, we’ll be monitoring you until you have adjusted enough !” He says in a cheering voice.

Then, the two men go behind me, presumably sitting on chairs due to the rattling sound I hear. God, my head feels cloudy… but my jaw… is burning. It’s also itching… what the hell did they put on me ? G- Wallah ! it almost feels like it’s growing on my jaw ! I mean… not in the same way my muscles did, but like hair pushing out, you know ?

Wallah, I’m so dizzy, my head feels so cloudy… plus those people inside my ears just won’t shut up ! I can’t even understand them ! But as I think that, the itching makes itself more and more intense, until I feel like it’s actually hair growing out. It just keeps on growing, until it seems to stop, likely at stubble level. Wallah, there’s a reason I shave, it’s because I don’t want a beard ! Yet… they materialized one on me ? Somehow ?

But… the Prophet said to do the opposite of what the pagans do, to keep the beard and cut the mustache short…

So… why was I shaving it ?

…

Wallah, I feel so dizzy… I… don’t want to violate the word of the Prophet, no ?

But…

I grunt. I hear the men getting up behind me, and coming back into view, as a battle starts raging inside of my mind. Wallah, I feel like I’m falling asleep…

“So, are you finally adjusting ?” Said the one with the lighter skin.

I want to protest in any way, but I feel like I can’t. The world is spinning, as the Truth of there being no deity other than Allah, and that Muhammad is his messenger keeps spinning, along with a lot of other things, in an incessant flow of knowledge. I can’t think, I can only follow what the headphones tell me… and they tell me that I should sleep.

“You’re turning out great ! Honestly, that new batch of serum is working wonders ! And don’t worry, you’ll be able to grow your beard further with time.”

I must resist… I must… not… yield… I must stay awake…

“Since you’re the first of the new batch, you’ll be a bit like their older brother ! So, I guess you shall take the name of the Prophet, then !” He feels like he smiles, talking with such glee. “You shall be Muhammad, or I guess your actual name shall be Magomed, let’s keep it to your culture !” He removes the rag from my mouth.

This name hits me like a truck, and it feels so right that most of my defenses are broken…

Everything is slower and slower, I’m dizzier and dizzier.

I’m falling asleep, as another me takes the reigns.

And the last thing I hear myself say, is :

“Allahu akbar !”

***

I woke up.

I’m not in that dingy room I used to be in before I fell asleep. No, I’m actually in what seems to be… a small living room ? With a wooden floor, a small kitchen, a mirror on the wall next to the door, a sofa out the back, and a door right next to me. I’m also sat on a bar stool, complete with an actual backrest and armrests. A far cry from the metal torture chair I was in just a bit ago.

Suddenly, I notice in my ears voices, and static. I dig in my ears, finding the same kind of ball-like earphones still inside them, and take them out. Weirdly, it feels like it alleviates something off my head… as if it was quiet for the first time in years…

I approach one of the earphones to my ear, and hear only static coming from it. Then, I approach the other, and there seem to be multiple voices layered on top of one another… A ton of voices… I should listen to the voices… Yes… I bear witness that there is no deity but Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah I bear witness that there is no deity but Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah I bear witness that-

NO !

I throw the earphone across the room.

What… was that ? Why did these words feel so... familiar ? Right, I remember, that guy… that scientist… said I should be a mujaheddin, a warrior of Allah…

Wallah, what happened ? How… how much time did I stay… asleep ?

I stand up, exploring the room. I notice how my step is heavy, yet agile. Ah, yes, my muscles had grown… and looking down, I do not seem to be skinnier… I seem to be in a small flat, with only a few rooms. One big bed, a few pieces of clothing, and… wallah, a weapon stash.

Bewildered, I look through all the rifles, able to recognize every single one of them. There are also grenades… and a lot of money. Wallah, what did I do all this time ?

Suddenly, a memory.

A man, long beard, dressed with military gear and a turban, a big rifle under his arm. He looks at me, and in an unknown language that I somehow understand, tells me :

“Magomed, cover me while I enter. - Allah maak, Yassin.” I answer, in that same language.

And then, the man called Yassin goes towards a building that seems to have the American flag on. I arm my own gun, find the head of an enemy, and pull the trigger.

BOOM !

I panic. I automatically shrivel down, as if I was protecting myself, shaking.

After a few seconds, I’m back to reality. What was that ! Was I in some shooting or something ? With a weapon ? I… guess mujaheddin means mujaheddin : “warrior”… But I’m so confused, still… what has my life become ?

Am I going to be able to go back to normal ?

As I stand back up, I notice something hoarse brushing on my hand. I try to find it, and then notice that it’s actually sticking out of my jaw… It’s… a beard… and a long one…

I go back towards the bar stool I woke back up on, trying to find a mirror to see whatever I have changed in. If I don’t see any, I’ll go to the bathroom, but I felt like… Ah, yes, I was correct. There was one.

I look… older, inside its reflection.

And buff.

I can see parts of myself in the body I woke up in, yet it is just as alien as it is familiar. Even my clothes aren’t what I would usually wear… nor that Apple phone ! – did it even exist when I fell asleep ? Just how much time did I spend asleep ? And… what can I do to come back to my old life ?

I look at my phone, and notice the date.

I’ve… been out… for this many years !? Are my parents even still alive !

Suddenly, another memory.

I was inside a decorated room, that I immediately recognized as a prayer hall, in front of two men, one bearded – that I recognized as Yassin, who was on the mujaheddin program like me, and another one without beard. I asked them, in that same unfamiliar language :

“What about family ? - Don’t worry, Magomed, they’re safe.” The clean-shaven one told me. “Allah is just, and protects the families of those who serve him. - But… I never saw them since… I joined…” Yassin said, visibly unsure. I remember thinking that he was too bent on his kafir life. - You know, I used to think the same, Yassin.” I reassure. “But you have to trust. Trust in Allah the all-powerful. Besides, those who helped us see the correct way made sure that we were accounted for, I made sure of this myself.”

I think back to the short message exchange I had with my sister, in which I learned that they told my parents, impersonating me, that I decided to go to the army. They didn’t buy it, but then I told them how I was using my degree but I couldn’t tell them more about my work… What a big fat lie, I was so happy to serve as Allah’s soldier in His jihad against the kafirs, I only wanted to see their blood being spilled to honor His name. I felt like my namesake, the Prophet Muhammad, sallallahu alayhi wassalam, conquering the infidels and spreading the faith.

On that, I came back to reality.

Wallah, I didn’t like it ! I don’t like who I was ! … or whoever that Magomed version of me was !

But as I thought that, more and more memories came back. Of all the atrocities I did, but also of a lot of the inner workings of the program I was kidnapped into. It scares me. I hate that. I never wanted to be a part of that. I never wanted to do anything approaching even remotely this level of action… and terror.

I don’t want this to happen anymore.

I don’t want anyone else to live through that.

I sigh, as more and more memories resurface. I guess I haven’t seen enough action yet.

***

I sit on a bench, in a park back in my hometown.

The past few months have been hell, although the last few years I spent as Magomed would surely classify as hell as well. Still, having to fight my way to the upper echelons of the secret services to help them dismantle that project was exhausting. I had to prove I was still myself, prove that the mujaheddin program was legit, prove that some of the effects of my hypnotic conditioning were still acting, and that the intel I was providing was correct. But I am proud to have been able to close that dark chapter of my life, and, I must be honest, to feel like an actual hero – not the one who kills in the name of a god. Although the only part that could be shared with the public was the kidnapping part, I’m still happy that my efforts were recognized.

I also was able to reconnect with my family. They were all healthy, although hurt by my sudden departure. I wasn’t able to tell them everything, but the secret services allowed me to divulge some of the more relevant details. I guess it made for a good reason for me to not talk about the men I massacred and the women I… impregnated. I was also able to get back to a normal life, work my dream job, and was even eligible for discharge funds from the army, to compensate for all the years of my life I lost.

Taking charge of my life back was hard, as I’m not the same person I used to be. Now, I have PTSD, and there are still a lot of hypnotic conditioning still active inside my mind. That’s why I’m still literally unable to cut my beard. If I hold scissors, or worse, a razor close to my beard with the intent to cut it, my hand will just stop ! And when I wake up, I’ll automatically shave my mustache and brush my beard, without being able to stop my hand by any means. The psychologists that helped me come back to normal life did tell me that they could fix this conditioning, now that they knew how it was inflicted, but I decided against it. Don’t get me wrong, I never wanted to have a beard, I didn’t even like that aside from when it was on hot guys ! But I want to keep on myself an actual trace of what I lived through, so that it is not just a painful memory. Although I did ask them to fix my compulsion to do my five prayers, it feels wrong to honor a god I don’t believe in.

I notice a guy coming inside the park. His face matches the photo he had on the dating app, that’s good. He insisted to meet inside this park, right at the hour in which it was quite crowded. I cannot fault him : a big, muscular guy with a long Muslim beard asking a young gay guy for a date on an online dating app would spell danger to anyone here who had more than two braincells. But I don’t really care, anymore. I guess that’s one of the perks of having lived through what I did, I now know to live in the moment, to appreciate the beauties of life, and to just do what I want, and not what a voice in my head tells me to. That’s why I decided to go get a membership in the local gym – although it was a bit embarrassing for a jacked guy like me to not know how to work out – and to finally put myself properly on the dating market. When you have seen death from your own eyes, you know that tomorrow may not come. So why wait for prince charming ?

I stand up as my date walks up to me, and I introduce myself to him.

Using my real name.

I am not Magomed anymore.

================================================

Using @travelbeur ’s great finding. Continue finding such hot guys !

By the way, I'm back ! Although I'm not completely out of the weeds, I'll be able to publish a few stories, although at a slower pace than I was before I took my break ^^

67 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 2 days

Text

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Changing Room (@thetfchangingroom)

instagram

Even legendary space outlaws have bad days, but for Star Lord, this one was about to get a whole lot worse.

Peter had gotten picked up for petty theft on Xandar. Some crazy Kree chick had sold him out after she caught him fingering her sister at the club. He claimed he couldn’t tell them apart, but not even the classic Quill charm could save him from ending up in the hands of a “Grower.”

Quill had heard stories about these guys buying prisoners off the guards and blowing them into insane muscle creations. He thought it was all bullshit… until he awoke a few hours later to find himself 200 pounds heavier, and wearing nothing but skin-tight white undies, swollen with a bulge the size of an asteroid.

“Huh?” was all Peter could get out. Talking was hard now, as was thinking. In fact, Peter was having a hard time remembering anything that had happened before he woke up, or why he was even called “Peter.”

The mindless muscle beast that was one the great Star Lord lumbered to his feet. He had grown so heavy, he had to catch his breath. His astronomical chest heaved up and down, the mere sight of which sent his cock to full mast. His life was about to go from scheming and space-faring to fucking and pumping. All day, every day. All he could think about was milking his cock and growing his muscles bigger and bigger.

Peter was in luck. His Grower had assembled a wait list of paying customers eager to get a taste of that marvelous body.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all!

Click the link and follow my Instagram for more short transformation captions!

72 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 3 days

Text

K-Pop Conundrum

Here is a K-Pop themed racial/cultural change! Judgmental audio engineer finds himself enjoying this album quite a bit more than he ever thought he would? Enjoy! -Occam

John has been working as a technician for RPM Records for a few years now. In his time there he has helped to record for artists that run the gamut of genre. One week he’ll be working on the levels for some honky-tonk country artist and the next he’ll be prepping equipment for an up-and-coming rock star. To date though his company has strictly stuck with American artists. John prefers it this way, no language barrier or culture shock and he doesn’t see the need to branch out when there is so much variety and talent in the states. Unfortunately for him he is quite far down the totem pole regarding any meaningful decisions.

Word just came from on high that RPM is welcoming their first international client, a K-Pop boy band, Wxld Card. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he read the name, finding it hard to respect a name trying so hard to stand out. John tries not to be a contrarian, and he claims he’s not a xenophobe, but he really struggles to find any positive feelings about Korean Pop at large. He hasn’t heard too much of it, but he feels confident that having heard a few songs definitive to the genre that he’s heard them all.

This is exactly what he thinks as he sees Wxld Card’s album sitting on his desk. He groans as he reads the accompanying note requiring him to listen to it through before their recording session. Not unusual in the slightest though John cannot see the task before him with anything but disdain. He chews on his lip as he stares at the disc, wondering just how long he can put it off. Though in reality it’s best to just throw it on while he gets work done this morning, he doesn’t need to know the songs by heart or anything just needs a firm enough grasp on their sound to get them set up. He laughs to himself as he feels confident that he can guess their bubblegum over-tuned sound already before he even throws in the disc.

First things first, in order to get anything done in the studio he needs to find preliminary statistics on the band, number of members, instrumentation, if they can speak a lick of English and the like. John has been looped in pretty late to all this, he’s sure somewhere in his inbox he can find answers in the pile of CC’s he’s just received. Quickly enough, skimming through his unread emails he finds they’re a six member band. He thanks his stars that they’re not any larger and starts to read deeper about their demographics. “Oh shit, I should probably start the album while I’m at it.”

As expected the first song sounds just like every other K-Pop song he’s heard, synthetic and sharp. It looks like the intro track is self-titled, “Wxld Cards,” looking further down the tracklist the whole album looks like it’s themed around a deck of cards. John rolls his eyes as the loud synth track continues to rise in his headphones, “Cute I guess. Everyone’s gotta have a gimmick eh.” Finally he looks at the list of performers in the band and finds little of note besides their names and roles. It looks like the leader goes by Ace, which John meets with another eye roll. Shin and Donghyun are the group’s rappers and then the remaining three members are their vocalists, Jin, 6, and John? Sipping coffee he doesn’t quite spit take as the name is exceedingly common. Something about it just seems odd though. It feels truly bizarre to have just a fully western name alongside the rest of the crew. Certainly a wild pull to just pick one of the most common English names as a stage persona, with 6 and Ace right there, why not just stick with the theme?

The opening track fades into the back of his mind as John is suddenly preoccupied with his apparent namesake in this band. He doesn’t know if he finds it funny or what, as the song continues the familiar repetitive track loops and imprints itself on him. His foot nervously taps along to the beat and, unintentionally, his typing on the keyboard matches the methodic rhythm of Donghyun's rapping on the track. John doesn’t notice as he assigns a name to the performer on the track, nor does he know that he did so correctly. The fact that there is someone named John in this supergroup is so baffling to him that he cannot follow any other threads until he sees this guy’s face.

The album continues on to the next track and the tempo ratchets up. Unconsciously John’s body continues tapping along to match it, increasing in fervor with the tempo he begins to bop his head and move his whole body to the tune. In his search he finds no record of the band as a whole before now though he finds evidence of all the member’s solo careers, all of them that is except John. He grunts in irritation as there’s a tap on his shoulder. “Hey John um, so sorry for the bother.” It’s his cubicle neighbor Bradley who sheepishly continues, “Would you mind finishing up your listening in the booth? You're uh, being a little noisy?”

John blushes as he realizes he must have been quite distracting for Bradley to intervene. He stands to move to the booth and blood rushes to his head. He stumbles and starts to fall to the floor before Bradley jumps to catch him, “Woah Johon! Are you alright?” His ears ring and his vision flashes white before it patchily begins to return. He squints his eyes as he realizes that he is now looking at the top of Bradley’s head. He shakes his head as he adjusts and starts to apologize, “S- Sorry about that Brad, I’ll uh,” he pauses as the last few seconds come back to him, “Did you just call me Johon?” Bradley shyly grins as he continues to help steady his neighbor. “Hah, c’mon Johon let’s just get you to your booth so you can keep jamming.”

Johon’s face goes blank as he makes his way with Bradley across the room. Of course, that’s his name right? With the album no longer playing he finds the silence of the office around him starting to give him a headache. Something about the interruption fills him with discomfort. He was enjoying the band much more than he had ever expected to. In spite of his usual disdain for the genre he was finding enjoyment in even the most manufactured aspects of the songs he’s heard so far. As his headache completely dissipates he removes his arm from around Bradley’s shoulder and stands to his full height. There is a pit in his chest as he does indeed find himself standing taller than he remembers, though looking down at his clothes he finds they fit as they always do. Johon clumsily apologizes to his neighbor once more and then scrambles off to his booth, his heartbeat racing faster as he nears a haven in which he can listen to Wxld Card once more.

Once inside he closes the blinds and locks the door, opting instead to just play the album from the booth’s speakers rather than his headphones. As soon as the third track, JXck of All Trades, begins he feels the pressure release from his mind. All the anxiety of his vertigo and petty grievances that he is accustomed to pushing down fade away as the too familiar tunes wash over him. Johon hums along and bops his head as the song refrains, questioning not how he already knows the song well enough to unerringly keep up. The chorus starts up once more and his heart races, he needs to move. He stands and feels the energy of the song rush through his veins.

His heart is pumping to the beat of the song, far faster a BPM than one’s pulse should race. Nevertheless he feels an urgency fill him as he starts to quickly move to the song. Despite clumsily falling over himself on the way into the booth he now finds his body perfectly in tune with itself. His longer limbs stretch and contort with precision as he finds himself on the spot performing choreography as if he has been training to do so his whole life. He jumps and poses with vigor and drive, an observer would surely find the slightly schlubby technician’s movements jarring, were it not for the infallible confidence with which he executes each step.

Johon’s eyes are closed as he feels his body move with drive beyond his understanding. There is a confident smile plastered on his face as feels at home in the song. He should’ve given K-Pop a chance some time ago! The song begins to slow as it nears to an end as sweat begins to fling from his hair as his deliberately erratic moves begin to slow. As it does it begins to reshape into something he could never pull off. Fashionable on a man about half his age and two times his musculature his hair lengthens into a foppish almost bowl cut. It slowly begins to alter color as well, from his almost-blonde brown with each shake of the head it darkens, as if it were a trick of the shadows in the room. As he poses at the end of the song standing tall as if he were behind a small group of other performers his chin raised high as it settles on a natural pitch black tint.

Before the next can start Johon hears the ping of an email in his inbox as he regains his breath from all this exertion. He grunts in irritation as his enjoyment is once more interrupted, his voice deeper and smoother in his throat hidden by the acoustics of the room. He checks it to find an email from his boss.

Gonna need you to finish the pre-pro sooner rather than later theyre gonna be in the studio 2day -Jim

Sent from my iPhone

He fires back an email quickly, not worrying about his boss’ demands or the truth of his answer.

No problem boss! I’ll be ready for them whenever

Best,

Jo-Hon

He pauses to look at his name before sending it. Is that right? He scratches at his head as he looks, not noticing how his hair has straightened and changed its texture beyond reason. He then laughs deciding that he spelled it wrong of course! His name is Ju-Hon! He edits this and sends it off so he can finally get back to his mission at hand. Before playing the next track, Fxce Cards, his attention being drawn to his name he briefly remembers that he shared a name with a member of the band right? Ju-Hon goes to check and indeed finds a Ju-Hon in the band. He grimaces as he again wonders what an odd coincidence that is, it’s not exactly a common name. He tilts his head and closes his eyes for a moment before the song starts once more.

Ju-Hon then smiles as he thinks what a fun ice breaker it will be when he meets his namesake. The next track, Fxce Cards, begins playing and despite his body once more filling with energy demanding him to dance he recalls the email and decides to get back to work. His eyes dry up as he stares at the computer screen checking correspondence about the upcoming visit. He blinks hard a few times to remoisten them, each time slivers of his blue eyes change their shade. Like a flower bursting from his pupils his iris darken beyond brown to total blackness, leaving two perfect obsidian spheres staring at his inbox. They are then overcome by an itch as if his eyelids were being reshaped. He rubs at them firmly, as if trying to get the sleep from them. His fingers dance over them as they pull taught and reshape into monolids, he traces them and smirks as he feels the texture of his face begin to smooth, god he is beautiful isn’t he.

The blue light of his monitor shines on his hands in an odd way, preventing him from seeing as they start to change. His pale skin begins to smooth, the blonde hair on his arm briefly darkening to black before being wiped entirely, leaving behind smooth arms as his skin tone begins to pale. He rubs his jaw as it reshapes into something far sharper and more handsome than he could ever hope for, almost as if he were purposefully sculpted from marble to look so. The light stubble that perpetually hugs his chin rapidly falls away as the skin on his face smooths to look as delicate as porcelain.

The song begins to rise to a din as it nears its end and Ju-Hon is once more overcome with excitement. He eyes his laptop one last time, seeing an email from Ace himself. He clicks his tongue neglecting to even read the email, unconsciously responding out loud as his timbre lowers even further, “씨발- I’ve done enough haven’t I?” He hears his voice develop an accent as he feels himself get pumped for the next song as Fxce Cards wraps up and immediately breaks into the next song on the album.

The idea that he has never heard Wxld Cards before is laughable to him, how could he not. He’s, he’s a fan right? Or what else? Ju-Hon feels his head grow foggy as is unsure of himself. He grunts and once more curses in Korean at himself, “닥쳐 Dude! Your song is coming!” His song? Is that right? Or is it his favorite song? It doesn’t matter. He hears it begin, Kxng of Hearts. “Let’s Go Ju-Won!” He hears on the tape and performatively flexes to no one. Yeah, this is his song.

While previously he has hummed along and perfectly mimicked choreography that he has never seen before, as Kxng of Hearts begins Ju-Won is overwhelmed by changes as he perfectly sings along with the band, with His band members. Not only does his mouth perfectly shape itself around the Korean segments of the song he recalls the time spent studying English to incorporate it on the callouts. Learning the language to not only keep up but to show up those other 새끼들! (Fuckers!)

Confidence surges through him as the song almost deliberately encourages him towards a beyond cocky persona. He flexes his arms once more imagining the crowds of chicks at the concerts they are sure to have as his arms swiftly fill his sleeves. He grimaces as he feels his shirt strain as it holds back his arms, clicking his tongue he shouts “C’mon gotta 군중을 부탁드립니다!” (-please the crowd!). His arms burst larger, tearing his shirt as it reforms into a vest. His biceps surge as the rest of his body races to keep up. Ju-Won’s pecs pump larger straining the vest though stopping short of tearing it open. He feels his chest fill with strength and become impossible to hide as his shoulders widen with strength that the most dedicated bodybuilders would envy.

His thighs and ass put on mass enough to move with the precision his art demands. His calves stain to keep him standing before they bloat large enough to support his gargantuan form. He walks about the room continuing to pose and perform the choreography that has been burned into his mind, he made it after all. He smirks as he flexes and stares at his reflection in the booth’s glass window, hungrily watching the veins trail across his biceps. He feels his cock surge as it too starts to strain his pants before they loosen and change. He grabs it feeling its weight increase as Ju-Won throws his leg up onto the audio equipment so he can see his bulge reflected.

Guffawing as he gets an erection just from how pumped he looks. He rubs his neck as he stands there, stretching and straining his body as he for some reason feels he must get acquainted with it once more. He feels his torso burn as it cramps. Every abdominal muscle burning and contorting as they grow large enough to support his still ballooning pecs. He feels the pain shift to pleasure as the power sends shocks into his thighs. Veins snake down his legs threatening to tear his strained pants as he feels his legs expand large enough to flawlessly move his massive body through the most rigorous of routines.

His clears his throat as it settles to the deep bass that Wxld Cards needs of him. Countless hours of rehearsal and performance fill his mind. Practice becomes muscle memory becomes his reality as he has always known it as Ju-Won remembers not only perfecting his choreography, but crafting it and drilling the motions into his fellow band members. He remembers standing alongside them, standing above them. He falls backwards into his chair as pleasure overwhelms him and he hears over the song his cock strains his performance pants. Before getting the chance to act on his burning passion however, his song finishes and there is a knock at the door.

“King, 친구,여보세요? (dude, are you in there? Time to go!”

Ju-Won smirks as he hears Ace call him by his stage name, King. Perfect for their gimmick, and as he flexes once more sticking his tongue out at his reflection. He adjusts his cock so he can at least walk out of the room, though it would be impossible for anyone to not notice it. But hey, that’s what the fans want. He sneers as he’s sure his bandmates won’t mind either. He’s ready to record and this stupid American studio had better be ready for him. Ju-Won steps outside the booth and ruffles Ace’s hair as he sees him, Ace blushes and bats away his hand. Though he’s the leader, both men know that Ju-Won, King, is the real face of the group. Though perhaps The Body would be a more apt description.

180 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 3 days

Text

Season 2

Punching Bag Session

Olivia and her friend, Sophie, had planned to spend the weekend together at Sophie's apartment. However, Sophie received an emergency call from work and had to leave Olivia alone. Feeling bored and restless, Olivia began to explore Sophie's apartment. As she looked through the different rooms, she stumbled upon a small gym in a spare room. Curiosity sparked within her and she decided to have some fun and try out the gym equipment.

As she played around with the different machines, her eyes landed on a punching bag. Instinctively, Olivia started to punch the bag playfully. However, as she did, she noticed that her punches became more aggressive and powerful. She shrugged it off, thinking it was just the adrenaline pumping through her. But suddenly, she felt a strange sensation coursing through her body.

Her clothes started to feel tight, and before she could even react, her shirt ripped open from her growing muscles. Her body began to swell and grow, and she couldn't believe what was happening to her. Her arms and legs bulged with muscles, and her hands and feet grew larger and manlier. As she looked at herself in shock, she noticed that her face was also morphing into a more masculine one, giving her a handsome and rugged appearance.

Panic started to set in as Olivia realized she was transforming into a man. But before she could process the situation fully, her mind was erased by a powerful spell. All of her memories, thoughts, and her very identity were stripped away, leaving behind only a blank slate.

As Olivia's transformation completed, she was no longer herself but rather a man named Derek. He stepped back, stunned by his new appearance and the unfamiliar presence of a male body. However, he couldn't resist the urge to continue working out, feeling a newfound sense of strength and power coursing through him.

Unbeknownst to Derek, his former friend Sophie had returned home, only to be shocked to see a sweaty and muscular man in her apartment. She was even more surprised when this stranger introduced himself as Derek, the new trainer at the gym she worked at.

125 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 4 days

Text

His Cousin’s Hat

The second Jake put on the hat, he could tell something was up. He had snuck into his step-cousin Matt’s room while he was out at the firing range with his dad and uncle. Jake had always had a bit of a crush on hot, red-neck Matt, though he dared not tell his family, and he snuck into his room to see if he could try on any of his clothes. A bright orange baseball cap caught his eye, and he instinctively reached for it and tried it on.

And that’s when the changes started happening. First, he felt himself start to get taller, if only slightly. Part of him thought it was all in his mind, when he felt a sudden soreness in his chest. He looked down to see his pecs inflating outwards, stretching out his t-shirt as his lower abdomen began to suck in.

“Fuck,” Jake whispered, pulling the now tight t-shirt over his head. Abs were beginning to pertrude where his small belly once was. In addition, two cum-gutters were forming just above his waistline, pointing down towards his legs, which were starting to fill up his jeans.

Next were the arms. Jake felt them stretching, getting heavier and brushing up against his inflating lats. He rushed into Matt’s bathroom to look in the mirror. Sure enough, two massive peaks were forming on his biceps, his shoulder growing broader and his traps snaking up towards his neck.

On his face, his features were subtly shifting, growing smaller and more defined. Facial hair began to lightly pepper his face as Jake let out a satisfied grunt. Wait, he thought, is that my voice?

“Is that my voice?” he asked the ever inflating reflection. It was a deep, husky voice, a bit of a sexy southern drawl peppered in for good measure. “God damn,” he said, continuing to admire the new body, “God da— oooohhh…”

He let out a pleasured groan as the final step of the transformation started to occur. He felt a powerful heat emit from his crotch, and he grabbed for it in shock. And that’s when he started to feel it: his dick, inflating and growing in his grip. He could feel his massive ball sack churning out hot man juice and pumping it throughout his body, which was now starting to look like that of a young muscle model.

When the pumping finally subsided, he unzipped his now uncomfortably tight jeans and let all twelve inches of his thick new cock spill out onto Matt’s bathroom countertop.

Jake looked back up in the mirror at the new man standing before him. His body was perfectly sculpted, every new muscle glistening with hot, post-transformation stress. He flexed his bicep, and his dick jumped up from the counter. He was getting turned on by his own body!

With his free hand, he stroked his new big dick while flexing his bicep. “Aw yeah man,” he started to dirty talk to his reflection in that deep southern voice, “fuck yeah man, look at me. Fuckin’ massive. Aw yeah, I’m gonna make me cum…”

He felt his whole body grow hotter as his dick tensed in anticipation. Every muscle tensed, and Jake felt a wave of pleasure like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He let out a big, manly moan as he shot spurt after spurt of hot silvery man juice onto Matt’s mirror. It felt like he was standing there for hours, cuming over and over, testosterone shooting through his veins as he embraced his newfound man-hood.

When he was finally done, Jake ran his sticky hands over his sweat-drenched muscles, feeling the deep, warm crevices of every singe one of them. He loved his new body, he was just going to have a lot of explaining to do when his step-cousin got back from the range. And a lot of cleaning to do as well…

738 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 4 days

Text

The Unfortunate Tourist

Chad was quite the boisterous fella. After all, who wouldn't be so celebratory after winning a paid vacation to the pristine beaches of Bali? And he loved it all. While on his way back to his hotel, he scouted some street food vendors cooking up all sorts of local delicacies. Chad laid his eyes on of the guys selling some sort of fried rice combo. The man was built like a rock in every sense of the word. His bulging biceps begging his sleeves to give way as his ginormous pecs were pushing themselves tight against the man's apron. And he was quite the looker too.

Unfortunately, the man thought the same about Chad. After some light banter and the sporadic hand holding, Agus eventually invited the man over to his house for some rather intimate sessions. This little thing continued for a few days, before that one fateful night when Agus slipped a little purple "potion" into Chad's food. As Chad ate into some mean babi guling, he felt his head spin as he slowly fell to the ground. Agus meanwhile undressed himself, slowly but surely standing by as Chad's transformation took place. As Chad laid himself down on the floor writhing in discomfort as waves of static energy ran up and down his body, Agus started speaking in his low, sensual voice, ever so slightly gyrating his hips and beckoning with his finger.

"Anda merasa diri anda semakin besar..." "Kamu merasa dirimu semakin bodoh..." "Kamu merasa dirimu melupakan segalanya..." "Kamu merasa dirimu mencintaiku..."

Chad felt himself getting bigger as he writhed on the ground, hiding his head with a pillow and his arms as he begged for Agus to stop. But he never did. He slowly felt his cock stir and grow larger in his pants, making him squirm and moan even harder. And all that was left to seal the transformation was... "CROT" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It was a few days later when another group of tourists stumbled upon Agus's stall...and a new plot of land behind him. Agus offered them a tour of his quaint farm supplying his ingredients for the stall. And in the middle of it stood Karel.

A farmer hailing from across the strait in Java, he came to Bali in search of a job. His mind basically filled only with the basics, Agus had agreed to take him in as not only a farmer, but a "helper".

Karel was here to stay, and he was proud of it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hey Everyone! I'm returning to Tumblr! To make the long story short, I finally managed to leave that Chinese guy's body! But bad news, I got stuck in this random Filipino guy's bod. Still trying to work out the kinks in returning to my original body but hey, I'm not complaining. Ang gwapo ko hihihi, at sana nagustuhan niyo ang story ko!

172 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 4 days

Text

Back in Prime

Requested by: @mannykinlove

Simon wish he could be anything more interesting than he currently was just browsing through social media on his summer vacation. He had just finished his first year of college and he wasn't sure he wanted to continue it, but that's not something he wants to think about right now. Simon is more focused on looking through posts of an account he recently followed. It posted pictures of old bodybuilders in their prime and Simon was obsessed with it. He always did enjoy the aesthetic of those times alas he was born way after the 90's.

"Man, I would kill to be a bodybuilder back then..." Simon retorts. He looks down at his skinny arms and sighs.

He looks back up on his screen and keeps scrolling, only to find a peculiar post after a while. It look to be an old sponsored post from a couple months back posted by the account.

"Today's post is sponsored by Back in Prime! This service allows you to take an extensive look into what Bodybuilding was like back in the day! Exclusive Content awaits! Use promocode: OldBodybuilders at the link below for a free trial!"

The associated picture definitely looked good. This site seemed like a dream come true for Simon. The words were a bit vague on what exactly it meant by "extensive look" but the promise was too good and Simon needed more content FAST. Simon quickly clicked the link and the site definitely looked professional. There still wasn't any details but Simon found the Sign up button as fast as humanly possible. "Do you have a promo code? If so, please enter it now."

Simon typed in the code and thankfully it still worked. "Thank you, please enjoy the trial!"

Simon was expecting some sort of account creation process but the site just loaded back to the main page. It said he signed in... but what now? Does he just look around the site for other pages. Simon tried to move his cursor except it was frozen. "What the- Aw come on not now I need my-" Suddenly without prompting, Simon's computer screen started glowing a bright light. Simon could barely see and then... nothing. "What the fuck was that? My computer shouldn't do that. Ugh. stupid machine." He punched the computer with some force as it took the hit.

Just then, Simon noticed something about his hand. Did it look... bigger to him? That can't be right. Simon looked at his hand again. Okay he must just be seeing things but then an excruciating amount of pain was registered by Simon as he fell to the floor groaning. It was time to experience bodybuilding back in the day. Simon's body starting surging in growth. His flat chest inflated giving him two strong muscled pecs. His once flat abdomen popped in beautiful abs. The sticks Simon had for arms grew grew now being more like large beef trunks. His thighs widened and filled with beef. The two drumsticks forever fated to touch another. Simon's height went from a average 5'5" to a hot as hell 6ft. With that a miscellaneous set of changes happened to Simon such as his hands and feet growing and his body becoming becoming more tan as well as his face physically aging and finally his hair becoming a much more 90's hairstyle. Just then, Simon noticed something about his hand. Did it look... bigger to him? That can't be right. Simon looked at his hand again. Okay he must just be seeing things but then an excruciating amount of pain was registered by Simon as he fell to the floor groaning. It was time to experience bodybuilding back in the day. Simon's body starting surging in growth. His flat chest inflated giving him two strong muscled pecs. His once flat abdomen popped in beautiful abs. The sticks Simon had for arms grew grew now being more like large beef trunks. His thighs widened and filled with beef. The two drumsticks forever fated to touch another. Simon's height went from a average 5'5" to a hot as hell 6ft. With that a miscellaneous set of changes happened to Simon such as his hands and feet growing and his body becoming becoming more tan as well as his face physically aging and finally his hair becoming a much more 90's hairstyle. With the transformation over Simon got back up from the floor, his muscles on full display as his clothes completely evaporated leaving him in blue and black shorts.

"W-What happened? Why am I-"

Amidst the confusion, Simon's room also went through its own changes. His flatscreen computer became a much older and sturdier one. All modern devices becoming 90's counterparts. Books and other reading materials having more time approriate material and finally a shelf of bodybuilding trophies appeared on a new shelf. Simon look at the computer once again. Despite the change in computer a new pop up showed up on the site. "Integration complete! Your trial experience begins now!"

Simon realized that it was the website that did this to him. He flexed his left bicep in pure awe.

"I can't believe..." He looked down at himself.

"Oh.... yeah."

Simon's new muscles caused new memories in him. Memories of simpler times of the 90's. Working out, flexing, the bodybuilding works. And a new name entered his mind. Jean. He had no time to walk around on his dingy computer. He needs to WORK OUT. So Jean grabbed some clothes and made his way to the gym. Ready to workout with his friends.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the gym, Jean was talking with his friends and flexed to them.

"Like what ya see boys. Well I'm just getting started!" He flexed again.

Jean stripped and flexed again. He was living the dream. Simon definitely got what he wanted. I wonder when that trial will end...

165 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 4 days

Text

The Hometown Hex

Wallace Power was parked on the side of the road, just outside his hometown of Maxford, trying to gather up enough courage to get back on the road. Wallace hated his hometown. There was nothing wrong with the town itself. It was a fairly normal, albeit very conservative small town, but it was nice enough. His family wasn’t the problem either. For all their flaws, Wallace loved them all deeply. The problem was… well it was hard to explain. When his boyfriend asked why he had never introduced him to his family, Wallace would say that he was still in the closet with them, which was partially true. His family didn’t know he was gay, but once again that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was that when Wallace finally got the nerve to enter town… he’d change.

The problem was that the town of Maxford has a strange power. It wasn’t one that maybe people were aware of, mainly because no one ever visited the small, middle of nowhere town and hardly anyone ever left. But anyone who crossed city limits and entered the town would… transform. Although it could also be argued that the transformation happens when someone leaves the town. See, Wallace didn’t grow up as Wallace. For the first 18 years of his life he was Wally. Wally was huge, muscular, manly, and straight. He used to play football, brag to his friend about all the pussy he was getting, have sex with cheerleaders and joke about how pathetic fags were. He used to be an all American conservative country jock. And then he got a college offer out of town. Wally’s family had tried to convince him to go to local college like his dad had, but Wally wanted to go to a real party school with hotter chicks. So he packed up his things and left for college.

The second Wally left city limits he turned into Wallace. He had been so shocked he almost skidded out of control. His muscles were gone and it was like he was looking at everything with new clarity. He felt like his entire life he had been asleep, under some kind of spell, and now that he had left town he was… the real him. He looked back at who he had been with shock, horrified by how much of a douchebag jock he was. Trying to figure out what had happened, he drove back into town… only to immediately turn back into a very confused Wally who couldn’t figure out why he was driving in the wrong direction. He turned around and became Wallace once more. It took a few more times back and forth and a major headache for Wallace to understand what was happening. Something about his hometown made everyone who lived in it into a straight, conservative, usually much more attractive version of themselves. If someone left town they’d turn into the person they were really meant to be without the towns influence, but if they entered town again they'd turn back into their other self, not even remembering that they had been different while outside. Wallace tested it a few times, and Wally never seemed to remember being Wallace. He’d even get fake memories if he was gone long enough.

When he discovered the truth a part of Wallace wanted to just… run away. To leave this cursed town behind him and never come back. He had spent his entire childhood, his entire life, under the influence of the towns music. He barely knew who he was without it and that terrified him. But… even as Wallace, he couldn’t abandon his family. He loved them. He had so many happy memories with them as Wally. He knew his parents would never leave Maxford, being the traditionalist hometown loving folks they are. So, Wallace did the only thing he could think to. He went to college. He left Maxford, and Wally, behind him. He took time to discover who he really was, what he really liked. He got hobbies, friends, and even a very loving boyfriend. On the 3 years it had been since he left Maxford he had to be himself, to be truly alive. He kept in touch with his family over text and pretended to be his old self while doing so. He let himself live as Wallace. But he knew he couldn’t avoid Maxford forever. He had to come back, for holidays and big events. And every time he did he’d turn right back into Wally the jock. He tried to avoid it if he could… but this time, with his little brother Ed’s18th birthday party, he knew he couldn’t. Wallace took a deep breath, reminded himself this was for his brother… and drove into the city.

Wally Power smirked slightly as he drove into his hometown of Maxford. He couldn’t believe Eddie was as fucking 18! Seems like just yesterday he was the starry eyed kid who was asking him for workout tips after football practice. Wally felt a little guilty about not visiting him as much as he probably should, but school had kept him busy. While, the frat parties and bimbos wanted to get fucked by his massive cock kept his busy. Wally didn’t really care that much about grades and shit. For a second he felt a fleeting memory of a relationship, but that didn’t make sense. Wally was way to much of a ladies man to settle down. As Wally pulled up to his parents house, a small presence in the back of his head sighed. This was going to be a long two weeks.

**hey guys! This story was inspired by some dms with a friend. They told me about their experience in the closet and how they’d pretend to be a straight jock when with their family, and this idea just came to me. Definitely revisiting this later. I know I’ve been writing a lot of G2S stuff lately, and I’ll admit there’s more of that to come, but I’ll try to get out a bigger variety. Hope you enjoyed!**

182 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 4 days

Text

The weight of arrogance

The scorching sun beat down on the busy street as Lucas parked his sports car in front of the luxurious massage parlor. Lucas was a strong man with blond hair and an arrogant look, perfectly matching his muscular body and chiseled face. He got out of the car towards the building while people on the street admired the young man's confident posture.

At reception, he cast a disdainful look at the clerk who was waiting for him. "Finally," he grumbled impatiently. "I have more important things to do than wait for you." The receptionist, a middle-aged man, ignored the comment and invited Lucas to accompany him to the massage room. Lucas wasted no time complaining about the environment, the background music and, especially, the appearance of the masseur.

The receptionist guided him to a room where Lucas would be massaged. "Good morning Roger. Another arrogant one, you know what to do" said the receptionist with a malicious look. "You're not the kind of person who should be working in a place like this," Lucas scoffed, eyeing the masseur's plumper figure as he admired his muscles in the mirror in the room. "You should go to the gym and try to lose that belly."

The masseur just took a deep breath and started preparing the materials for the session. "I have a special cream for you," he said calmly, a faint smile playing on his lips as he reached for the green-capped cream furthest away on the shelf.

Lucas barely paid attention to those words, impatient for the massage to begin soon. As the masseur began to work on his tense muscles, Lucas gradually relaxed on the massage table, letting out small grunts of pleasure. Then, as the masseur massaged his back, Lucas began to feel a strange sensation spreading throughout his body, as if his skin was stretching and his breathing was becoming heavier and heavier, and he suddenly felt heavier. "What are you?" doing?" Lucas demanded, trying to sit up. But before he could react, a feeling of dizziness overcame him and he sank back onto the stretcher, completely unconscious.

When he finally woke up, Lucas felt an oppressive weight on his body and a strange sensation under his chin, as if he were hearing an extension of himself. Confused, he tried to get up, but for some reason it took more energy than before. He then looked down and his heart sped up at the stunning sight.

His belly, once flat and toned, was now a bulbous, gelatinous orb. He could barely see what was behind the mountain of meat. He quickly tried to get up with the strongest push he could. As he sat at the table, he felt that his clothes were stretched to the limit. and when he tried to get up, his body fell forward, each movement was a fight against gravity.

"What... what did you do to me?" Lucas shouted, panicking when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His body now unrecognizable. A huge belly hung from his back where there was once a defined abdomen. His once firm pecs now spill over his stomach, and his nipples are now huge. The boy desperately tries to come up with an explanation for what happened, but the masseur just watches with a satisfied smile. "What did you do to me?" he shouts, his voice shaking with outrage. He felt his entire body undulate with each gesture, it was unpleasant and disgusting.

The masseur calmly approaches and explains that the special cream he used had magical properties, designed to teach the arrogant and prejudiced a lesson. He reveals that while the man was unconscious during the massage, his body absorbed the cream's energies, thus transforming him into an obese man. Desperate to reverse the transformation, the man begs for help, but the masseur just shakes his head regretfully. He warns that the change is permanent.

With a heavy heart, Lucas takes a full look at the mirror to see the damage done. His ass was now immense! His underwear was on the verge of breaking. His legs were now so thick that they were in constant friction. "What do I do now?" The man said with a sad tone in his voice. "It's not that bad" said the masseur, patting Lucas' belly making his whole body shake. "Being a big man is quite comfortable, you know. Maybe you should take advantage of your nipples, they are very sensitive now."

The large man walked towards a scale in the corner of the room, now noticing a strange waddle as he walked. But it was useless, his huge belly covered the entire view of his feet. Who knows how much I weighed, but it was certainly a lot more than the fat masseur who now showed a smile of satisfaction at seeing me so gangly in my new shape.

Lucas returned home in a defeated mood, after all it wasn't every day that he felt so ugly. On the street, the same people who had previously admired him now looked at him with repulsion.

Arriving home, Lucas felt the difference that his new body occupied. His large ass overturned everything around him and his huge belly prevented him from even looking at his own penis. Dripping with sweat from the effort of carrying so much extra weight, he goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water. His belly rubs against the fridge door as he opens it to get some drink.

Going up to his room, he once again admired his new body under a size G outfit given as a gift by the massage parlor receptionist. Not even a shirt that big fit his new body. Lucas then sat down while thinking about all his actions that led him to that moment. The place his intestine occupied between his legs was huge. How strange it was, this feeling of your belly resting on your lap. As he thought about his situation, his hand absently caressed his huge nipples and a sensation went down to his pants. "It's actually a pleasant feeling..." said the boy, trying to find a positive side to his drastic transformation.

122 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 5 days

Text

Jeremy just finished his freshman year of college and is now back home for summer break. Jeremy wanted to go on vacation with his friends, but his father told him he needed to come home for the summer to help him out. Jeremy hasn’t seen his father since winter break, even though his dad had been acting weird. Any time someone would go around him while he was on his phone he’d quickly hide his screen, so obviously suspicious, like he wanted someone to ask about it. The weirdness didn’t end, when Jeremy got home his father must’ve already gone to bed because he wasn’t anywhere to be found and his room was locked.

“Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jeremy says to himself.

Jeremy quickly moved his stuff in, stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. That night he had a very strange dream about an old man, old enough to be his grandpa, was rubbing his fat belly all over his bloated looking body. Jeremy gets up, almost immediately forgetting the dream, and his stomach growled. Jeremy got ready for the sad, threw on a grey tank top and black shorts. When he opens up the door, there’s his dad waiting to get into the bathroom… or what looked like his dad. Jeremy’s dad had always been lanky with a bit of a beer gut, but now it looks like his dad has been inflated. His belly padded with so much fat, his chest now a saggy pair of moobs, and his chin replaced by two wobbly double chins. He’s wearing a white tank top that doesn’t look like it’s fit him in years.

“Dad?” Jeremy asks.

“Yes, I’m your daddy” his dad now having a thick southern accent “I need to take a piss, boy.”

Why was his dad talking like that? Why is he so fat? “Dad what happened to you?” Jeremy said very concerned about his father’s health.

“I met me a nice trucker man a couple months ago, he came over and plumped your ole’ man up.” He said, patting his fat belly. “He couldn’t stay, I’m sure you would’ve loved him, boy.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say, what to think… “Uh… okay?” Jeremy attempted to slip past his dad in the doorway. His dad immediately goes through the doorway as well, his big fat belly pressing Jeremy against the the threshold. “Dad… could you move your-“ Jeremy stopped talking as he felt something weird going on around his belly. “Dad-dy… please just let me go through…”

“Sorry boy, I just want to share my soft fat belly with ya… feel how soft it is son?” His southern twang making him sound oddly comforting.

Jeremy’s body began to rapidly gain pound of fat. His once skinny figure has now produce a beer gut, as if Jeremy suffered from the Freshman 15. Jeremy continued to grow, his chest becoming supple tits resting on his now sizable belly. Jeremy’s jawline began to fade as fat piled on his face, a double chin forming to cover his neck.

“Daddy- please s-stop… I’m getting so fat” Jeremy said, his voice now having a slight southern twang. Jeremy couldn’t see the hair beginning to recede into his head, leaving him with a very obviously balding head.

“It’s okay boy, you’re looking like a real good son.” His dad starting to move into the bathroom, once fully inside Jeremy’s belly flopped outward over his waistband causing Jeremy to let out a moan.

“Oh daddy” Jeremy’s voice now full sounding like a redneck, Jeremy began to play with his now blubbery body. All of his memories faded to become his daddies prized pig of a son, dumbing Jeremy down to fully get rid of the once fit college student.

“Go rest of the couch boy, after daddy takes this piss, he’s making you a big breakfast.” And with that, Jeremy will forever be his daddy’s fat boy.

180 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 5 days

Note

hey there. My name is Derek. Im your average, slightly overweight gay guy from Chicago. I work as a pretty decent graphic designer downtown. And honestly, my life has gotten boring. I’ve been with the same guy for far too long. And I sometimes wish I could be one of those loud, obnoxious straight dudes you see at bars. You know the ones I’m talking about. Total jerks who make rude and crude comments to women. Muscles so big. Obnoxious loud clothing. Yeah. Is it weird that I want to be the most hated straight douchebag in the world? Haha it’d be so different

Hey Derek! I’m glad you reached out. You’re asking a question a lot of gay men have asked throughout history: Is it weird that you want to be a straight, buff, misogynist douchebag? Are you a freak because a part of you wants to be the kind of guy you’ve always hated? You’ve always believed in being proud of your sexuality, in treating everyone, especially women, with respect, in common decency, equality, and respect. Usually you’d find those straight, cocky jerks as obnoxious as anyone else. But just like a lot of men (and sometimes women), both in and outside of the LGBTQ community, there are times where, even though you know you shouldn’t, you wish you were one of those guys. It’s hard to say why people get this strange desire. It could be that you’re jealous of their bodies, how they’re so muscular, beefy, and powerful. It could be that you admire their confidence, the way they cockily smirk like they rule the world. It could be that you long to be like them because, despite their flaws, they’re the manly men that society has always told men we should all be.

Or it could be that you know, deep down, that they’re what you were meant to be. That they’re what you could have been, should have been, and would have been… if you hadn’t been turned gay.

Before we continue I wanna make a few things clear. Being gay isn’t a choice, you can’t cure gayness with dumbass abusive therapy, gay people do not turn other people gay, and homosexuality is a perfectly natural thing that some people just are. But… not all people. There are some people in this world, like you Derek, who have been turned gay. You were supposed to be straight. In fact you were supposed to be a straight, beefy, misogynistic, douchebag. But someone changed you, derailed your fate so that you’d be different. They saw you, didn’t approve, and so they went back in time and changed you. It’s not just you either. There are thousands of supposedly gay men who are really straight douchebags who got turned.

The group of people responsible for these changes are mysterious and covered in shadow. Those who know of them call them the SAD, the Society Against Douchebags. Not much is known about them, just that they come from the far future and use a strange machine to go back in time and change the lives of certain straight douchebags through manipulation and futuristic technology. The reason you were always so unathletic and heavy? You had nano machines working against you, keeping on the weight and taking down your endurance. The reason you could never seem to say the right thing and always embarrassed yourself around cool guys? They’d use those same machines to make you feel awkward and uncomfortable so you’d say the wrong thing. The reason you’re gay? They altered your brain chemistry.

But I know someone who can help you turn back.

A group like the SAD, one that so recklessly changes the timeline, doesn’t go unnoticed forever. Eventually another group formed, one that fought back against them. They call themselves the Douchebag Revolution. They’re exactly what they sound like. Straight, buff douchebags who either didn’t get targeted for one reason or another or were saved from their false lives and wanna take down the people who tried to destroy them. They go around, liberating guys like your from their fake fag lives, fighting the SAD and living that douchebag lifestyle.

Personally I try to keep out of their whole time war thing. I don't think what the SAD does is good, but time travel is so fucking complicated I’d like to avoid anyone who uses it all together. Plus the Douchebag Revolution is pretty homophobic, so they wouldn’t accept an actual gay guy like me in their ranks. But I do have a few contacts in the Douchebag Revolution who tolerate me. I could get you in touch. They have a way to reverse what the SAD did to you. A serum. It’ll make you exactly what you always should have been: a straight, beefy, asshole. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to take it. You can stay this way, always wondering who you would have been. But I don’t think that’s what you want. I can see it in your eyes. You know what you are.

You’re a douchebag. Welcome to the Revolution.

Don’t worry about your boyfriend. Either he’s an agent of the SAD or he’s a fellow turned Douchebag. Either way your new friends will help you take care of it.

**another G2S story. I know they’re controversial but they’re so much fun. Definitely going to revisit the douchebag Revolution idea sometime.**

120 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 5 days

Text

Gym finds - Walkie Talkie

The gym was very busy today lads I couldn't even get into the locker room cause of how packed it was.

So I left the gym to go for a burger. I was browsing on my phone walking down the street until.

"Whatch it bud."

I bumped right into a cop. He didn't look happy either having to grab his walkie talkie from the floor after it fell off his belt.

"Honestly you youngsters need to watch your step now."

I was odly embarrassed by the man but I politely nodded as he patted me on the shoulder handing me my gym bag that had fallen on the floor also.

"You get yourself a shake my boy you need it."

I watched him walk away. "Boy?" I said to myself. "I'm twenty five and he's calling me boy." I sighed.

Turning back to continue down the street a black plastic object caught my attention.

"The cops walkie talkie." I reached down to study it. "Yep definitely his."

I decided to put my plans on hold and head back to the gym since the cop appeared to be headed there anyway I could return it to him. Entering the gym I find no one at reception and the gym had practically become empty. I looked around confused scratching my chin as thick hair grew on it.

I went further into the gym looking around the facility trying to find a member of staff. I had to duck under a few doors when my height weirdly doubled.

Clutching the talkie still in my new giant hands I entered the locker room and found a large cop uniform with a note attached to it.

Dear transforming-lads you got good taste bro.

I laughed. But as I touched the uniform I found it crawling up my arms like a symbiote. Startled I jumped back trying to get the goo off my arm as it kept spreading. I dropped the walkie talkie on the floor as I stumbled back.

I grabbed parts of my now growing body franticly itching my chest and rubbing my burning biceps while the goo covered my torso legs and feet. In a matter of minutes I had passed out on the locker room floor.

I woke up a while later surrounded by gym bros and bodybuilders. "You good officer?"

I sat up reaching my head to my new buzz cut. "Ye man I'm good must have fallen asleep or something."

The gym bro helped me up passing my glasses as I placed them a top my head while the bodybuilder helped me with my walkie talkie. I stood up looking at my uniform feeling odly weird in my own body. But that quickly subsided.

Walking out the gym doors my partner was waiting for me, the cop from before, I placed my walkie talkie on my belt giving my bro a quick flex show.

I wanted to quickly thank everyone for your support so far. Keep transformation lads.

136 notes · View notes

aeroskytheforgotten · 6 days

Text

During my few day break I came up with an idea for a true finale for the Coach Lang saga with what I hope would be an unexpected twist for this character. I do hope you guys all enjoy!

*****

Mr. Hendrix spent a good ten hours of his day at the school and then the rest in his shitty duplex. Being the principal didn’t pay much but it was the job he had to do. He never expected to have worked at Nixon High for over 15 years and it wasn’t the life he’d envisioned but he was a victim of a nasty divorce and with it, his life went down hill. His ex-wife took almost every last thing he had and left him with little to no money what so ever. All he had to show from their less than happy marriage was his constantly growing waistline and a pile of beer cans from across the state; all empty of course.

He flicked a few ashes out of the office room window and let them gracefully drift into the evening air from the third floor as he started to yearn for his glory days. He took a hand and rubbed it over the top of his stomach and let out a sigh. When he was a teen he could fit into size 30" jeans with no issues but now he’d be lucky to get his big tow into them seeing as he wore a 53" to a 54" inch waste. It was sad but he let himself go and what was even more depressing was that it was obvious he had no motivation to better himself.

There was a loud knock on his office room door. He about jumped from his skin as he choked on a puff of smoke. He threw the cigar out of the window and quickly closed it shut before giving the okay for whoever knocked to come in.

The door crept open and Coach lang stepped into the office. The man was pretty tall and built like an olympic athlete. Mr. Hendrix couldn’t help but resent him for his seemingly unnatural good looks. He recent had cut funds for the school football team and he was sure the brute of a man was in here to bitch at him about it but he found it more amusing than anything else.

Coach Lang came forward with a smile on his face and said “Good evening Principal Hendrix, I’m afraid you may have heard of my bad news today.”

Hendrix nodded and sat back in his chair. “I don’t know Coach Lang. You can say whatever you want to me but I’m not one of your students nor do I really care what you’re doing at this school. Just give me your report and then we’ll leave each other alone.”

“Well, as you’ve probably heard by now,” he paused and looked around the room while he spoke as if looking for a spy or something, “the school board has decided to pull the funding for our football team. As soon as they announced it I had to make a choice between staying here as head coach and making a living off coaching or leaving and finding work elsewhere. After some thought I chose to stay because I love these boys. They are a great group and I enjoy teaching them how to play football.”

“So?” Mr. Hendrix said with a shrug, “that’s what you wanted to talk to me about right?”

Coach Lang closed the door behind himself and cracked his knuckles as he looked at his boss with a wicked grin. Not exactly, you see I know you’re in charge of the school board and are the one who was behind this.“

Mr. Hendrix swallowed hard and felt a cold sweat trickle down his forehead. Coach Lang came across as a brainless jock but was a smart guy and he knew Mr. Hendrix would be too scared to admit anything against himself.

“What makes you think I’m responsible for this?” he asked.

“Well, I was informed today that you told the board to pull the funding from the football team and that’s why they did. Trust me, I was upset but then I did some thinking? Thinking on how I could handle this situation. I made up my mind to approach you and tell you that we need to talk and discuss your future with the school.”

Mr. Hendrix couldn’t help but laugh at this. It was hard to take him seriously when he was his boss after all so his threat only fell on deaf ears. “You don’t have any control over what happens at the school and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Coach Lang just smiled and shrugged his large shoulders. “I figured you’d say that so you leave me no choice

. We could use a new member anyhow.”

He started to strip his shirt off and Mr Hendrix couldn’t help but watch confused as he revealed his muscled body. He was well built and had strong arms and chest. He was definitely ripped but Mr. Hendrix could never understand the appeal of having muscles. Coach Lang finished removing his shirt and stood there in front of his boss as if trying to assert his dominance over him but it wasn’t working. If anything his macho man act was getting on his last nerve. He couldn’t believe he was being forced to deal with a muscle bound idiot.

Coach Lang flexed his arms in the air, exposing his sweaty pits. He sat there in shock at the teachers crude display and began wondering if he should call the cops. Before he could reach across his desk though the smell of the coaches sweaty pits began to creep into his nose. He crinkled his eyes shut and let out a long, deep breath through his mouth.

His whole body began to tense up and he felt a strange warmth travel throughout himself. He leaned back in his chair as the scent began infecting him.

“What are you, you doing to me?” He managed to stammer.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Coach Lang reassured the principal, “just figured I’d let you see what you’re missing out on.”

Mr Hendrix watched with heavy eyes as the coach continued to flex his meaty biceps as he began to lick them, the sweat glistening underneath his tongue as he took it in. His hands roamed over his pecs as the coach rubbed his meaty pecs together. Mr. Hendrix swallowed hard and felt his throat constrict as his breathing became ragged. The room felt like it was getting so hot it was almost suffocating him. He grabbed at the collar of his shirt and noticed it felt baggier on himself.

He looked down confused when he noticed all the fat on his body starting to melt away. He couldn’t believe it as he watched his belly slowly shrank and disappeared. Inches were disappearing off of his waisted line in a matter of seconds and his clothes were becoming far to large for his smaller frame, hanging down on him from every which direction.

His skin seemed to glow as his muscles grew larger and more defined. His shoulders seemed wider and his chest much bigger than before as he stared down at his rapidly changing body. He was so surprised he didn’t even notice Coach Lang standing behind him until he spoke up again.

“Nice isn’t it?” He asked with a smile, “I guess you’d say I’ve got the Midas touch.”

Mr. Hendrix felt his cock begin to swell inside of his pants. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. There was no way this was really happening but he had to keep an open mind because as they said, you can’t argue with the facts. The facts were that the coach somehow was doing this to him and he was completely helpless to stopping it.

His cock throbbed and he heard a low guttural moan escape his lips as years began to melt off of his aged body and in a matter of seconds he was back to being a 20 something year old again. He coughed and spluttered as he tried to catch his breath.

“How is this possible?” He gasped as he looked down at his body and saw his youthful figure again.

Coach Lang laughed loudly as he reached out and pulled the principals shirt off revealing his lean body. He wanted to stop him but he couldn’t. He was like clay in this man’s hand and he was sculpting him into whatever he wanted him to be. His cock was throbbing as he watched Coach Lang start run his fingers across his bare skin as all his weight seemed to come back but as pure muscle. His fingers trailed down his abdomen and a healthy crevice formed to life as he brought them down to his thighs that grew so big that both his hands couldn’t fit around them out together. Then he brought them up to his flat chest and kneaded at the thickening flesh as Mr. Hendrix pushed his head back against the chair and moaned.

“What happening to me?” He gasped as he looked up to him with panic but a lustful glint in his eye.

Coach Lang looked at him with a cruel grin on his face as he continued to rub his growing chest “Well you just wouldn’t listen to reason so I figured that I might as well change you into a form more fitting to my own personal needs. I could use an assistant coach afterall.”

Mr Hendrix wanted to panic hearing those words leave coach Lang’s lips but as the man kept rubbing his chest he couldn’t help but watch in amazement as they continued to swell into the perfect set of man tits. His nipples began to grow harder as the coach ran his hands over them and began to massage them between his fingers.

“Ahh fuck!” He cried out as he felt an unfamiliar pressure build up in his chest. He looked down and was shock to see that the two squishy mounds on his chest were squirting out a thick milky substance. The substance shot out of his nipples and pooled within the crevice of his abs in thick ropes. He looked down as the coaches hands continued to milk his new set of tits not understanding what was happening to himself. As if in response to what he was thinking the coach snickered and said “don’t worry, soon enough you’ll have no problem letting the whole team milk your new assets.”

This frightened Mr Hendrix but he’d be lying if he said that the thought wasn’t exciting him a bit. Thinking about those big muscled jocks latching there lips around his nipples was enough to make his cock throb harder. The thought crossed his mind that he wasn’t some faggot but whatever the coach had done to him had made him need to feel the caress of another man.

His face began to shift as it grew long and narrow. His jaw line became sharper and his cheeks protruded further as his face took on a more masculine shape. His hair also began to thicken and grow longer as it styled itself into the perfect cut. He had become a total adonis with his muscular body, thick cock and firm ass. He couldn’t believe how good he looked and he felt his cock harden again as he looked down at his new body. He couldn’t stop hold it back anymore and as Coach Lang continued to milk his large heavy tits he shot rockets of cum across his desk.

He leaned back in his chair and tried to catch his breath. His mind was racing with everything that had just happened As he rose to his feet his clothes fell to the floor leaving him in his underwear.

He looked down at himself noticing the bulge in the front of his boxers as they to fell to the floor around his ankles. Mr. Hendrix looked down at himself and couldn’t believe the transformation that had occurred. He now had an athletic body which was covered in a dusting of soft curly black hair. The kind of body he used to only be able to dream about.

Coach Lang looked over his handiwork on what he’d done to the principal. He was a handsome young man now with a body built for sex. He figured he knew exactly where to put his hands to make sure this guy would do whatever he wanted him to. He ran his fingers along his tight abs before cupping his heavy balls in his large hands he went to drop to his knees to take in his impressive shaft but Mr Hendrix had other plans as he grabbed the coach by his neck and pulled him up.

Coach Lang looked at the man in shock as he wrapped his thick biceps around him making it impossible for him to move “What are you doing?”

He was panicked but Mr Hendrix was eating it up as he looked at the once macho man squirm in his arms “You know I have to say I think what you did to me was an improvement, but that doesn’t mean I suddenly like you either. My feelings are exactly the same as they were before. I do think the football team deserves there funding but there’s only enough room for one coach in this school. I do think Coach Hendrix has a nice ring to it after all.“t

Coach Lang tried to struggle but he was pinned between the new coaches impressive arms and before he knew it, coach Hendrix forced his lips around his large sensitive nipples. He tried to hasp as his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt himself forced to start sucking on his boss’s large nipples. A warm feeling filled his chest as he milked the other man’s impressive pecs. He looked down to see his massive body was dwindling in size. Every sip he drank from Coach Hendrix’s nipples was making his body grow smaller and smaller as all of his hard earned muscles began to vanish.

As his body shrank down to a small lean frame he wanted to stop sucking on the other man’s large nipples but he couldn’t stop; the taste was so addicting. He began groping at his big cock but as he stroked it, he felt it getting smaller in his hands. He continued to suckle on the other coach’s large nipples as he watched his cock shrink down before his eyes. The closer he got to cumming the faster it grew until he was staring at a thin rod that was barely half the size of his full length.

He changed enough people with his own abilities to know if he busted his load that this was it for him and he would be reduced to being this other man’s cock hungry slut forever. Flashes of his own husband came to mind as he realized that if he didn’t stop that he may never be able to go back to him again and would be forced to be this other man’s bottom slut. He couldn’t stop it though as he felt his smaller cock tense up and then explode inside his jeans. He moaned loudly as he came and the new coach smiled happily as he pushed the now retired coach away from his empty chest.

Now that he’d been milked dry, Coach Hendrix let go of the other man and allowed him to hobble up to his feet. He looked over Coach Lang’s body seeing everything he took away from him. He couldn’t help but smile, know that he turned the once stud of a man into nothing more than a Twink “Well I guess you got what you wanted” he said with a laugh. “Don’t really have the body for whipping them boys into shape though but no need to worry. I won’t fire you, just a demotion is in order. Can’t really be a coach anymore but you can be the teams cumdump.”

Damien Lang shook his head as he saw his former boss walk past him toward his office door. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. It was amazing how quickly he’d gone from being a respected teacher to a slutty Twink. He wondered why he didn’t fight harder against this change when he noticed them changes happening but he found it hard to care when Coach Hendrix turned and said “Just make sure to show up after football practice tomorrow. I want your team to see the new you. Then they can get used to seeing you as nothing more than a hole for them to fill.”

With that Coach Hendrix walked out of the room leaving him alone. Damien couldn’t control himself either as he thought about letting all those other men take turns with his new body. The very thought made his hole quiver with anticipation.

The new coach stepped out into his car and started it up. He couldn’t help but feel his large cock stir as he thought about his new career. He woke up everyday dreading going to work but now he couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. The thought of having other staff and students suckle on his new milk bags came to mind as well as he wondered if maybe he would be able to change them as well.

358 notes · View notes