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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Part 2: Adam

This is part of my first series! If you missed the first part, please feel free to enjoy Part 1: Kellen before you continue on with Adam. In terms of content, this is rather new territory. There is a bit of violent content, bullying, slurs. This is likely to be the only part of this series with that kind of content.

Kellen knew about Adam long before he found himself in academic turmoil. The poor kid was the perfect punching bag. Kellen took pride in the fact that this kid skirted the perimeter of any campus space where he saw any jocks. Unfortunately Adam couldn't avoid Kellen when they lived on the same floor of the residence halls. Even when he'd change schedules or leave out the fire escape stairs instead of the main entrance, Kellen would still manage to find him and insult him, shove him, dump out his backpack, throw him in a trash can—basically everything besides throwing outright punches.

Adam came to the bottom of the fire stairs and found his path blocked by Kellen. All he could do was freeze—his fight or flight reflexes worn down to nothing but paralysis.

"Hey nerd, I need something, and you're gonna do it for me."

Adam continued to quake, unable to muster any further reaction.

Kellen smiles. "Glad to see you won't object. I have a paper due tomorrow in my history class. You're gonna do it for me. Here's the rubric," he balls it up and throws the paper in Adam's face. "I'd better get a good grade."

Kellen punched his fist into his other hand to emphasize his point. "See you tomorrow with the essay, right dweeb?"

"Uh... yes." Adam barely manages to get out. He knew the only way to get out of this was giving in and playing along.

"Just yes? I thought I'd taught you respect by now." Kellen took a menacing step closer.

"Yes, sir." Adam looked down as he said it, hoping it would be enough to appease the menace. He waited for Kellen to say more, but he just laughed and walked away. Adam collapsed on the landing. He'd be late for class again but he needed a few minutes for the fear to leave him.

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A week later, Adam is loosing sleep. He already maxed out his workload on his own school schedule and now he had another one—well, it wasn't quite as rigorous as his own work but it was demanding, demeaning, and had to always take priority or... well he didn't wanna find out.

Two weeks later Adam is deep into mid-terms. He barely sleeps, his anxiety has risen steadily, and he was starting to slip on his own workload. His roommate Ben is a nerd like him with ambitions to be valedictorian and president of the student senate, etc.—a much more high-profile brainiac. His campus-wide notariety is probably why he never manages to face the wrath of the school's star jock. Ben sees Adam's mental health slipping and tries to check in on his roommate, but he evades. After a few times, Ben gets more insistent and manages to get the truth out of him.

"But that breaks so many rules. You've gotta turn him in."

"You don't understand, Ben. I don't know what he'd do to me and... it's terrifying." Adam breaks down crying for the third time in the course of the conversation.

"Then I can," Ben volunteers, "and he won't take it out on you."

"You're my roommate. He'd still make me pay for it."

"Then we could—"

Adam shuts down his roommate. "Don't do anything. Please, don't do anything. I can't risk it. There's nothing either of us can do that doesn't result in me facing consequences."

Ben, still visibly not over it, decides to let it go. He leaves for the library so Adam can have the room to himself.

Working late into the night and the early morning, Adam gets all the work done but the conversation with his roommate still weighs on him. It's cheesy, but he even looks out his window at a particularly bright star and wishes he could do something about Kellen, wishes there was some way out. But that was never going to work.

Ben returned at a rather late hour—2:30 am—but Adam was still awake even after his room mate returned and went to bed. He finished up around 4:30am and went to get even just a few hours of sleep.

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The next day brought sun and warmth. Adam had no time to take it in or enjoy it as he sent the daily batch of assignments to Kellen that morning before breakfast. The jock would send him a message through Snapchat—since nothing was saved there—telling Adam where to meet, or from time to time, where to drop the assignments. He fell asleep in both his morning classes, one of which was review for the midterm test coming up later in the week. Adam was so defeated and exhausted that he didn't even bother with lunch, choosing instead to head back to his dorm for a nap. He hoped that would help him get through the test he had at 2:30.

Ben returned shortly after. He barged into the room expecting to find it empty and found Adam just drifting off.

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be here." Ben said from the doorway.

"Yeah, I just needed a nap. Hopefully I don't get too hungry in my afternoon classes."

Ben clearly wanted to say more. Adam was sure that his roommate was still holding back his urge to do something for him with his Kellen problems, but Adam was grateful Ben decided against bringing anything up. After mulling it over for a moment, Ben settles for a different approach: "I'm getting lunch, but I can bring you something before your next class."

Adam was so tired he could cry and the simple showing of kindness. "That would be great. Maybe a burger?"

Before exiting, Ben left Adam with an obviously coded statement of support. "Adam, you know I would do anything in my power to help you right now." But ultimately Ben seemed to respect Adam's requests to stay out of things with Kellen and ducked out without pushing the matter further.

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Adam woke up an hour later feeling quite refreshed. He looked over at his desk and saw Ben had returned at some point with a salad. Adam sat up and looked out the window, taking in the nice weather for the first time. He had a half an hour to kill with some last-minute studying and then he had to pick up some assignments from Kellen before his test.

He sits at his desk, eats the salad, then opens his textbook and class notes... but despite feeling renewed by his nap, the words on the page still danced around like he was tired and he couldn't settle in. He must still need more sleep... or he must want to feel the sunshine before his class. It was just so nice out—of course he was distracted. Maybe he'd benefit more today by "touching grass" instead of cramming—after all, mental health was just as important as studying.

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At 2:05, Kellen was ready to shove Adam against a wall. At 2:10, he was ready to throw punches at the little punk. This dweeb was always way too afraid of him to ever show up late, but today Kellen knew he'd have to teach a more impactful lesson since respect had clearly not yet sunk into the mind of this geek. He messaged Adam over Snapchat:

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!

After progressively more threatning messages, he finally gets a response—accompanied for the first time by a photo from Adam.

It was a nice day out Thought I'd go out for a run

Something was seriously off. Since when was Adam a runner? Since when did he take selfies, or wear tank tops. Hell, did he have all that muscle tone before hidden under his conservative clothes, or was that somehow new? Now Kellen was as confused as he was angry.

YOU NEED TO GET HERE NOW!!!

Another response, and another picture from Adam:

oh hehe i totally forgot i can be so dumb sometimes i'll run over to you quick, ive already worked up a sweat i can't wait to see you😜

Kellen was dumbfounded, though not as dumb as the new Adam seemed to be. He was suddenly some homo. This was either an elaborate prank or something fucked up was going on here. Before he could process further, Kellen receives another message:

see u soon daddy

Kellen stared in shock. This was a prank for sure, but he wasn't going to stick around for part 2. Instead, he was going to teach this geeky fucker a lesson tonight—and whoever else helped him with this. No one humiliates and defies him and gets away with it.

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Despite his fury, Kellen was kinda impressed with the depth of the prank. This fake Adam had set up social media accounts. That last selfie he sent Kellen was even cross-posted on all his socials in their stories and somehow there were bots set up so the pages had thousands of followers and the posts had hundreds of likes and comments. This imposter even looked more muscular than before—probably yet another fake in on the scheme.

Even so, Adam's fate was sealed. Kellen waited until after dinner. He knew the nerd would be studying. After 7pm, he stormed down the short hallway to the geekling's door and pounded on it.

"Open up. You know who it is, so you'd better not ignore me."

The door opened and in a split second Kellen was inside with the person at the door shoved up against the wall, hitting the brick hard.

"Ungh." he moaned.

Kellen had acted so quickly he hadn't taken stock of who had answered his knock. The sexual moan broke his blind rage in an instant and he registered who he had in front of him. He only had a brief moment to register the blonde from the social media pages before he responded.

"Oh, Daddy, that felt so good. I was waiting for you all day."

Kellen is struck by a wave of repulsion. Was he turning this little twink on? He goes to push the imposter harder against the wall, but the homo looks him dead in the eye, bites his lip, and grabs Kellen's dick. He's immediately hard. His rage mixes with his horniness and his desires become carnal. Kellen whirls the little slut around and pulls out his thick cock. Adam is ready, as usual, wearing nothing but a jock strap allowing for immediate access. He thrusts inside his submissive twink and roughs him up as Adam moans louder and louder. At this point the hall was used to it since it happened at least once a night.

Kellen has had such troubles keeping his grades up since receiving a warning from financial aid threatening to kick him out. He's still on the search for a nerd to do his homework, but at least he found Adam. Adam could take anything from Sir as long as Sir didn't leave a mark. Adam made sure he set his boundaries, after all, they both should know respect always goes both ways.

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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There's no saying where or when a straight guy can catch this curse—it really can come from anywhere at any time and from that moment on, the curse lies dormant inside the hetero until it's activated.

Those moments when you're with your bros and you're just that little bit—maybe it's a joke, or an instant of curiosity, or a stirring of repressed urge... turns out, if you don't say, "No Homo" you really are at risk of catching those "faggy feelings."

These two were flexing away for a selfie and both ended up, naturally, rather chubbed up. A passing glance from each and a moment of genuine curiosity twisted fate so that these bros are about to become insatiable fuckbuddies. Go ahead, bro; grab your bros shaft. He wants it more and more with each passing second—and so do you.

#male transformation #gay #male tf #curse #boyfriends

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Another day of work, another late night. You find yourself walking home on a Friday night—a middle aged office worker mixed in with the bar hoppers. You'd love to join them... but you're just too tired. You're heading straight back to your studio apartment and you'll be asleep within the hour.

A sound emerges from an alleyway. It takes your brain a moment to register the words spoken by the muscular suited man to register in your brain.

"Working late, huh?" The words materialized from the bass tones that drew your attention to the man in the first place.

The words hit and for some reason leave you a little dizzy... you really are tired... you really need to get home... get to bed...

You teeter and stumble and end up catching yourself on the wall. You're getting hot now too. Maybe you're catching a quick-onset fever. You aren't thinking much right now, but one thought filters through—get your jacket off. You're just so hot, so constricted, so bound up in clothes. You strip it off in your fog—it's a struggle but once the jacket manages to fall to the ground, you feel the relief of the cold open air on your skin. Your exposed torso—

Wait, did you take off your shirt too? You barely noticed, man you were still so dizzy and foggy and hazy and... god that cold air felt good. You'd never expose your pudgy, overworked, aged body like this, but you didn't care right now. You liked how it felt. Freeing, cooling... empowering... it turned you on...

It really turned you on...

You were chubbing up...

No, you were hard. Really hard.

You are just suddenly so incredibly horny.

But you love showing off your young, muscled body. You get a little weak in the knees—you really need to get off soon—and lean back against the alley wall. You turn to the hot daddy business man in front of you. Oh yeah, he asked a question, you should answer.

"Mmmph, yes I am Boss... and I'm ready to work all night."

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Part 1 — Kellan

"What the fuck is going on!?"

Exasperated, confused, enraged; Kellen had yet again opened the door to a highly unusual sight that he'd now seen again and again.

Kellen was a quintessential college jock: star football player in high school transposed straight into star player on the college team garnished by hefty scholarships and an open road of easy classes paved straight to a degree. Except despite this, Kellen and his unwavering focus on the field and the gym still found himself with grades low enough to threaten his sports scholarship.

The day he had that meeting with financial aid, he left with a righteous fury—there is no way in hell that the school would boot their star player. A meeting with the coaches later that night sent the clear message that they wouldn't hesitate if he couldn't get his shit together. And thus, Kellen turned toward the age-old stereotype: the jock is once again out on the hunt for a nerd who will submit and do the jock's homework.

Except in this case, the jock has opened the door to the nerd's room to collect his daily supply and found a naked jock on the bed staring at a laptop. This was the fifth time Kellen had encountered something like this. Four nerds before this had all become dumbed-down, muscled stereotypes who all ultimately proved to be useless to him.

At this point it was all but confirmed: every nerd he'd manage to get to do his homework would become useless himbos, and he had no idea how that could have happened.

#male transformation #dumber #jockification #curse #male tf #jock #nerd's revenge series

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Author's Note: A version with photos is linked below. Scroll down—if that is what you desire.

Uh oh. It's getting pretty hard isn't it...

Get it? Hard? Because your cock is getting so hard and I bet it's getting harder and harder to keep yourself from touching it.

I mean, if I'm giving you the hot muscular body and the confidence and charisma for you to shake loose the bonds of your rise through the ranks but you can't get it without a cost, or at least a trial. Frankly in transformation circles, the rule is common: wanna keep your brains? You don't get to cum for 24 hours while the magic of the transformation... "cures."

I guess I didn't tell you how hard it would become. And the willpower you've gotta wield to keep those precious smarts in your head is drawing thinner and thinner as it gets harder and harder.

I gotta be honest, you're doing so well even though it's so hard. You have just a half an hour left—thirty minutes before you can cum. Thirty minutes and you don't have to worry any more. I believe in you; it's not that long, it's not that hard, you can wait for that sweet release. Even though the time seems to slow, even though the pleasure builds... you can keep your hands off that long hard—

Oh dear. It got to be too much, didn't it. You thought a quick graze, a light touch, the briefest of moments would release the pressure and keep you going. You felt that jolt, that hot flash, that pulse of pleasure— no! It's too hard. It's too long. It just feels too good...

...but it helped. It bought you another minute. It's only... twenty three minutes now... so you could try it again...

Feel the wave of pleasure course through you as you give it a rub, two rubs, thr— no. That's enough... let it settle, let it wane, let it swell again, and another three minutes gone.

You can touch it again—once, twice, three times. You let the wave flow through your body—cloud your mind, settle. Two minutes gone.

And rub again, swell, relief, wane.

And rub again, and again, and again.

It's so hard. It's so long. It feels so good, but the only way to keep it at bay is to give in just enough, rub just slowly enough, release only a little of that pleasure as time stretches longer. The last minutes slow to an agonizing fog of horniness as you keep yourself edging on the precipice of release without crossing over. Closer and closer to climax until...

Though the fog, you hear your alarm. Time was up. Release. Relief. You did it. You have the body, the charisma, and the brains, and now you could afford to take it all in. You could finally take that new dick through it's first test drive. It was time to...

Release, relief, pleasure. It overtakes your body and mind all in one instant. It pulses through you in waves and clouds your mind in horniness while cum shoots, and shoots, and shoots. out of your cock. You long cock. Your hard cock. Your beautiful cock. The pleasure recedes and your muscles relax and your mind settles... and clears... and empties in the post climactic bliss. It just felt so good. You've never felt so good. You sat for a moment... a minute? an hour?

You knew you wanted something... a job... a position... something else? But all you could process was that orgasm... your throbbing cock... your pleasure... your horniness swelling back into you. It gets harder. It gets longer. It just keeps feeling better and better...

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I suppose I should explain... That common rule: you can't cum or you'll ejaculate your brains outta your dick—that's not a real thing. No, unfortunately for him, the best way for him to have kept his smarts was to cum immediately. I've never had anyone make it the full day, though. He is so horny, he doesn't have room in that braincell of his to process much more. He's gonna be rubbing that cock of his all-day, everyday. Aww, seems kinda pathetic really. Maybe I'll send in a few guys to suck his dick and make sure he drinks some water or something. And maybe help him set up a Grindr and an OnlyFans.

Hey all, This story had pictures but certain censors found them to be to dangerous for this community—you know, erotic content. Blah blah blah. As a result I've taken a step common in the community and created a Blogspot.

#male transformation #dumber #gay #curse #gooning

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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"What the—

That's not a mirror. I don't have that muscle, those arms... that ass... I don't—

huh huh huh... i look fucken hot

i love my himbo muscle"

#male transformation #mirror tf #himbo

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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In these transformation stories, it always seems like the nerd insults the jock motivated by disgust, or repulsion, or envy. But when he ran into the pack of jocks at the grocery store and called them cocky assholes, he had much more unique motivations. It seems—despite the magic employed to rewrite reality and keep things secret—that this nerd had still managed to notice what should be impossible to notice: every time this group of jocks got ridiculed by some elitist intellectual, that know-it-all seemed to vanish and the brutish clique would gain a bro.

This nerd, like many before him, headed straight for the bathroom the moment he felt his joints begin to ache and his thoughts begin to cloud. But unlike the other brainiacs before him, he was running to the closest mirror to witness the reformation of his new persona. He was only able to witness the affects of my curse on that group of jocks because of his deep, passionate desire to be one of them. Unlike the other nerds, he would have no moment of panic, no racing thoughts unable to process the horror, no mental bargaining as the new identity asserted itself, and no moment of resignation as it took over.

Instead he relished in his brightening skin, his squaring jaw, his increasing height, his shifting proportions... The changes were just beginning and already he was taking out his phone to take his first mirror selfies. He felt his thoughts slow, his priorities shift, and he could think more clearly than ever before allowing him to focus on himself and his hotter visage.

For the first time, he lifts his shirt presenting his new abs and pecs to the world. A cocky grin spreads across his face as he begins to fathom the extent of his newly debuted attractiveness.

He took off his shirt to show off his full torso and was about to take another series of selfies before he's hit by a wave of pleasure emanating from his pants. He lets out a moan that settles into a new baritone register and an unexpected fog of horniness settles on his brain that would prove to be permanent. He feels his cock start to snake down his leg as he enters the second phase of the transformation.

The nerds before him entered this second stage of rapidly swelling muscle struck by fear and still trying to cling to their former selves, but he just looked himself straight in the eye and took his new impulses on their inaugural run—he was finally worthy of uttering the word he'd always wanted to say. The transformation still raging, he lets out a dumb chuckle:

"Huh huh huh... bro."

#male transformation #muscle growth #dumber #jock #jockification

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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I, like many I'm sure, love the first day of a cruise. People are walking around—most of them taking in the ship and its many offering and I suppose in a way, so am I.

I always find myself heading up to the higher decks with the pools and the open air where I can take in the port city on one side and look out towards the water on the other—though I must confess I'm often using the vantage point as a means of scouting... other views.

While I'm scanning the pool area, I feel a tap on my shoulder followed by a soft-spoken "excuse me." I turn and see a shy, slender guy wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie despite the pleasant temperature and mild breeze.

"Would you mind taking my picture?" he asked, awkwardly, "My girlfriend is dealing with guest services. She told me to go explore the ship while she dealt with the problem with our room. She knows how much I enjoy taking in the city skyline and we both figured I wouldn't be much help since I'm not very... social."

"Yeah, sure! I'd love to." I can be selfless from time to time, so of course I'd help this sweet fellow.

"Oh, great!" He brightened up a bit. "My girlfriend always tells me I never have enough pictures of myself. This will be a tiny surprise for her."

He hands me his phone. I briefly scan the immediate area to decide on the angle and set-up of the shot and then direct him to the railing. "It was pretty nice of her to wait in line without you. You two must be the cutest couple."

"Yeah," he breaks out into a smile, "I really couldn't ask for a better girlfriend." The slightly dreamy look on his face presents the perfect opportunity; I tap his phone screen and take the photo.

*click*

If you know me by now, you'd know that I really don't tend to be selfless. But just this once? Nah, I'm on vacation. Instead of capturing the image of a geeky lad concealed by a hoodie bearing the smile inspired by the thought of his devoted girlfriend I snapped a photo of a confident guy advertising his muscled body along side the many other first-day cruise amenities. He even made sure to wear pink and blue swim trunks to make sure onlookers knew he swung both ways.

"Like the view up here?" He gestures broadly making sure I know he's not talking about the skyline.

"You're always going to get the best view from the lido deck." I briefly question my decision to respond with wit. He might not be the best at subtlety... anymore.

"Huh huh. Nah, bro. The view is way better from my room."

I guess he understood just fine.

"The view is great from here, but I'd love to see how much better it is in your room... maybe even on your balcony."

"Huh huh huh! No way dude!" His laugh was loud and unabashed. No one would ever thing him timid again.

I lean in and kiss him. He reaches around and grabs my ass in full view of the top decks. I grab his cock and massage it a bit. I forgot to include that in the photo... but I make sure not to break the kiss until it's nice and large.

"Ah man, I gotta get off soon. I'm just so fucking horny."

The guy has no shame. An older couple nearby hears and shoot a heavily disapproving glance our way. I don't give a shit though. If they complain I'll just turn them into a pair of twinks or something.

In the lower decks of the ship—just off the atrium, a girl waits in the guest services line. She has no idea how the cruise company could just double book her in a room with some loud, cocky douche. There was no way she was going to spend the cruise with this brash asshole when she thought she booked a single. Still... he was kinda hot...

I'll make sure she's upgraded to a suite or something... she'll have a lovely vacation by herself.

#male transformation #muscle growth #dumber #bi #himbo #vacation

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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I helped you realize how much you desired to live a life devoted to muscle.

Now it’s time for you to realize those glasses make you look like a fuckin nerd.

#male transformation #jockification

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Do you see those juicy pecs. Not the biggest or roundest you’ve ever seen, right? But still, there’s something holding your attention…

And that’s my little curse, worming its way into your head. Everyone who reads this will get a unique little phrase that will unlock a new slutty side of you.

He was in one of his study groups when someone said managed to say his trigger words. He moaned and groaned and swelled until he had gained good himbo muscle and got rid of all his brains and inhibitions. All he can think of now is freeing his newly enlarged member.

And don’t worry about the study group. As soon as he freed his dick from its denim confines, your fellow guys and gals from your study group start moaning and groaning too until they all become bubble butted twunks crawling over themselves to get your cock… or any cock really.

And keep me posted. I’d love to know when your curse activates, and who you become…

#male transformation #muscle growth #dumber #jock #gay #himbo #curse

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.

#male transformation #muscle growth #dumber #jock #gay #jockification #boyfriends

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Take Your Vacation Days

Feeling uptight? Building up PTO? Sounds like you need to use a day or two to take a load off and learn to relax. Pay scales, workloads, stress levels: they're all on the rise, and I wanna make sure I get something out into the world that can offset all those trends.

It can strike anywhere—any time; any vacation day, and only to the most stressed, overloaded, underpaid among us. He's taking a nap after taking a mere afternoon off from his draining office job. In his dream, he finds himself on a beach, the sound of the waves relaxing him and soothing him. His mind slows down, his body looses tension, and then a hand grasps his cock and starts to rub. He looks up, expecting to see a hot blonde with big boobs or some other fantasy girl but instead he sees some regular guy—another office worker wearing typical business casual slacks and button up, though the button up was opened leaving the man's unimpressive chest bare to the refreshing sea air. He hesitated a moment—he was straight... but the sand, and the waves, and the breeze, and... it just felt good, so... why stop it?

Like falling into a trance, he sinks deeper into the dream: the beach, the leisure, the bliss... it all seems to pulse slowly through entire his body. Maybe he lets out a moan, he couldn't say for sure and he didn't care anyway. He only seemed to care once the man stopped rubbing his cock, but still he still only manages to lazily articulate a brief "Wha—?" before he catches the man coming in close to unbutton his own shirt. A cool breeze wafts across his exposed torso. He looks at the man in front of him and takes in the man's light muscle—some light pecs and abs that he didn't notice before. He was enjoying the freeing sensations of the ocean wind blowing across his exposed skin but he previously avoided exposing his long-developed pot-belly from years of fast and cheap dining... but it all felt so good... so why care now... all that matters is the beach, the breeze, the man grabbing your cock again... and the pleasure...

This dream was taking him far away from work. His one afternoon off turned out to be so worth it... in fact maybe he could take a whole day next time... or a few days, ... a week even?... just to relax like he was able to relax now. He could find a real beach; a real man with real abs and pecs dressed in real flowing linen. No slacks, no oxford shirts, no uncomfortable shoes—and no timelines... he could have time to eat, or maybe time to be active, or even work out... time to—mmmmmph...

He feels the man's mouth on his cock, the man's whiskers brushing his skin—he loved the man's broad, hairy chest. It's no wonder why a man like him would walk the beach shirtless wearing only swim shorts. He wished he could have such strong muscles like this daddy before him, but at least he was slim enough to attract a hunk like that once in a while. But alas... he still had that pesky job, otherwise he could fuck on the beach all day and cum over and over and over again. In fact, it's all he wanted to do now—cum.

The hot, hairy, muscled man with his big cock stuffed into his speedo was working his shaft more and more causing ever-intensifying fireworks to shoot off in his brain. And despite the magnifying pleasure eclipsing his thoughts, his desires become clear: he just wanted to be a dumb horny twunk all day and all night offering his cock and his ass up to hunky daddies for an unending tide of pleasure and climax. He just wanted to... to... to...

cum.

A slim twunk wakes up from a nap in a studio apartment just one block from the Huntington Beach. He comes to feeling unbelievably refreshed, then realizing he had his hand on his cock—again. He was used to hot horny dreams by now and usually woke up with his hand down his shorts and cum on his fingers. He just chuckles dumbly.

Jumping up from his bed... well couch, he catches himself in the mirror... and just takes himself in, curiously dwelling on his reflection longer than usual: his plump lips, his toned abs and slim muscle, his hair with just enough volume to tell observers from a distance that he was as air-headed as his hair was breezy. He was late for work—a clerk and restock boy at a beach-side gift shop—but he only went to scout his next dick appointments. It was a job he cared about just as much as all the other beach-side cafes and shops he'd been fired from before. But anyone who knew him knows he doesn't care about work at all; his life is just one long vacation day.

Epilogue

A man at a Cleveland business conference keys into his Marriott single queen room. Even though the man is attending the conference for his employers, somehow the man has been duped into using some of his vacation days to accommodate the trip—although the man would never think to use them on himself anyways.

The man only intended to stop by his room between sessions, but instead the jet lag catches up with him and the man finds himself dozing off. He never makes it to the afternoon breakout sessions.

A man in a beach-side resort condo wakes up from his nap. The man slides off his california king and checks himself out in the mirror. The man takes himself in; he might just be the luckiest man alive. Thick muscles, the perfect dusting of hair, and a perpetually conspicuous juicy bulge—all this takes time to craft and care for and this man has all the time in the world. The man inherited a small fortune at 18 and started an investment banking company that keeps him perpetually wealthy and continually occupying the CEO position that never seems to demand any labor from the man whatsoever. The man is left to build muscle and scout for twinks and twunks to satisfy his insatiable horse cock. He might have a job, but the man is never going to work a day in his life.

#male transformation #muscle growth #dumber #jock #gay #jockification #twunk #daddy

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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The powder wasn't just affecting him; the himbo dust was distributed into the singlet of every wrestler on the team. The cocky son-of-a-bitch on the rival couldn't be satisfied simply being the best player in school history. No, he had to ensure the competition was entirely taken out through an endless campaign of pranks and sabotage, and this time he went to far. The team had to do something... except first they needed to take care of their growing cocks, aching assholes, and swelling muscles that were making them so horny they couldn't see straight... well I guess in this case they were never going to "see straight" again.

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

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Have we as a society lost our sense of acceptable public behavior?

Picture it: me, a swanky bistro, and an elegant patio adorned by the warm glow of string lights. I'm having a nice dinner—just me and my current favorite menu—until a couple is seated near me. It didn't take me long to hear that they were celebrating a six month anniversary and—given their gradually escalating volume—it was a night out at my favorite restaurant that was not going to fix their obvious relationship problems. In the short time it took the fresh rosemary rolls and whipped butter to arrive at their table, their loud talking had become peaks of yelling quelled only briefly by an unsatisfactorily hushed "quit talking so loud" or an ironic "you're embarrassing me."

Do you hate them yet? Because I definitely did. Except unlike you, I can take care of this; after all, knowledge of my methods is becoming more widespread. All I have to do is wait the thirty seconds it will inevitably take for the volume to boil over yet again.

"I can't take you anywhere!"

There she is again. Time to work my magic—

"Same shit again! I can't fucking take you anywhere! Everywhere we go: "miss, could you quiet down", and "sir, could you tell your date to stop yelling.""

"I'm not the one screaming f-bombs in public places! You need to learn some manners!"

*Whoosh.*

"Babe, I just can't have a conversation with you if you always yell." Already he's speaking at a much quieter volume.

"I just never feel like you're listening to me."—and she's also followed suit. Maybe that was all I needed to do, now I got my peace and quiet... but I'm not one to stop once I've started, and I suppose I'd rather not disappoint you either—after all, this isn't very interesting yet, is it. She continues: "I told you to dress nice and all you can manage is a t-shirt and shorts."

"I love you babe, but you can't tell me that you showing that much skin in a place like this is appropriate either."

No one sees it, but a slight grin crosses my face. I wave my hand and...

*Whoosh.* A light breeze passes through and their outfits shift.

"I'm dressed showing skin?! You're not even wearing a shirt."

"Babe, you're basically just wearing a sports bra and shorts."

"I look good. You don't work out enough to pull off not wearing a shirt in public."

*Whoosh.* A light breeze again. He's sporting some nice light muscle: square pecs, a nice six-pack, and some toned arms.

"Babe, I know I'm nowhere near my bulking goals but I know I look good enough to pull off being shirtless. Look, if you're gonna be like this, maybe we reschedule and have this dinner when you're not on your period."

...

...Look. What I did here may have been inappropriate... but would you expect anything less from me. I don't claim to be ethical, and I'm pretty sure you are well-aware of my biases by now... I'm not proud of what I did... I'm not... Okay maybe I am.

The ebb and flow of the conversation took a radical tone when one masculine voice was met for the first time by another. "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a girl."

"I guess that's true. Why would I even say that?"

"Because you're trying to avoid the subject again. Between you're time at the gym and your time at work, I never see you."

"I can't help it. At least I have a job."

*Whoosh.*

"Being an influencer is a job. I just wanna know how you can spend so much time working out when your job is being a personal trainer."

"My body is my sales pitch. I've build so much muscle now my co-workers are telling me I could enter a physique competition. Maybe if you worked out more, you'd actually get followers, and make money."

*Whoosh.*

"That's why I wanted to come here with you. Ever since I started working out with you, I have been gaining followers just as fast as I've been gaining muscle. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you: I have 1 million followers."

"Babe, that's great news. I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, and there's more. The videos that gained the most traction online were the ones I shot with you. So I wanna go in a different direction with my page from now on."

"Wait, you've built it up by yourself. Why would you change it?"

"I wanna make it a couples page. Health, fitness, and gay pride."

"Most people dating for three years usually get proposals involving a ring."

"Do you wanna do this with me?"

"Yes, of course!"

A couple in my favorite bistro rise and embrace beside their patio table and share a passionate kiss. They seem happy, although I sit there and wonder if they'd be interested in a third for the night.

Have we as a society lost our sense of acceptable public behavior?

No. Not in this case. It could absolutely be much worse.

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