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putradisguiser · 1 month

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Maa Satjaree’s Servant

David was living the dream - a successful CEO with his own startup, multiple businesses, and the freedom to travel the world. Growing up, he'd always had it good, thanks to his dad's high powered job at a major insurance company in the US. Now, he was living in the laidback town of Pranburi, Thailand with his gorgeous Thai girlfriend, Kanom.

While Kanom provided great comfort and passion, she also came with her share of dramatic ups and downs. Her temper could flare up suddenly, usually about some trivial matter. David often found himself playing the role of peacemaker in her many quarrels with friends and family. It growing tiresome at times.

Before moving to Thailand and meeting Kanom, he'd been married to Michelle, and they had a little girl, India, who had just turned 6. But things had gone south, and now David and Michelle were separated, with Michelle and India still living in his mansion back in Orlando.

His thoughts drifted to his daughter, India. He missed her dearly and tried to visit as much as his busy schedule allowed. Though separated from her mother, he still cared deeply about her happiness and well being. Face timing with her every week helped, but it wasn't the same as seeing her in person.

David was on the phone again, pacing anxiously on the balcony. Kanom watched from behind over hearing him and waiting impatiently for him to finish the call. As David hung up, Kanom came striding down to meet him. "David! What the hell?! You already promised me! What do you mean you’re gonna go back to the States?!"

David let out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Another fight with Kanom was the last thing he needed today.

"Candy, please try to understand," he began in a calm but tired tone. "My mother has been in and out of the hospital for weeks. The doctors aren't sure what's wrong but she's in a lot of pain. I need to fly back to the States to be with her."

Kanom's eyes flashed with irritation. "But why does it have to be next week? Tangkwa's party is important! All my friends and family will be there and they want to meet you!"

David ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Reasoning with Kanom was like banging his head against a wall. Ever since they met two years ago at a Preston's beach party in Hua Hin, she had seemed perfectly content as his girlfriend - at least initially. But lately she'd been growing more demanding and possessive of both his time and money.

Her family came from humble means in rural Prachuap Khiri Khan, and David understood the allure of his wealth and status. At the start he didn't mind lavishing her with gifts. But Kanom was beginning to wear him down with her constant partying, spending sprees, and now this obsession with flaunting their relationship.

Worse still was her jealousy over his past. Even though his marriage had ended years ago, Kanom was convinced he still harbored feelings for his ex-wife Michelle. The accusations and distrust were grinding him down.

David took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience. "Candy, my mom's health is the top priority right now. I'll only be in the States for a week, 2 weeks max. I promise I'll be back for Tangkwa's party."

Kanom shook her head stubbornly. "It's always something with your family. Work, your daughter and your mother. When are you ever going to choose me?!"

Her words stung, but David refused to take the bait. Arguing would only make the situation worse. "Nothing is more important to me than you and our life here. But family emergencies happen, and I need to be there for my mom."

"You know I care about you," he said. "But my mom’s health is my top priority now. I need to be there in case..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice the possibility out loud.

Kanom's face twisted in anger and frustration. David knew this reaction all too well by now, the dramatics were sure to escalate if he didn't diffuse the situation.

Her lip started to quiver in a way he knew all too well. The waterworks were coming. "But I love you and we're supposed to be together. Don't you love me anymore?"

As the first tears threatened to fall, David pulled her into a hug despite her resisting at first. "Of course I love you, Candy. But I have responsibilities I can't ignore. This is just for a little while."

She melted into his embrace then, crying softly into his shirt. David gently stroked her hair, hoping to soothe her fragile emotions. Inside, though, doubts nagged at him. Was this really the stable future he wanted? Or was it time for a change before things went too far?

Two days before David's trip back to Palm Beach to visit his mom…

The sun was setting, casting a golden and pink glow on the beach and David was chatting with his friends at the beachside bar he owned. The place had a lively atmosphere, with laughter filling the air. His laidback demeanor masking the underlying tension he could feel. Across the room, Kanom was deep in conversation with her sister, Tangkwa, but her eyes kept drifting towards David.

"Hey sis, why the stare? You gotta stop looking at him like that; it's kinda creepy," Tangkwa said, noticing her sister's intense gaze. "I can't help it. I just don't trust him," Kanom replied, her eyes darting back to David. "There's something about him that makes me uneasy..."

"What do you mean? He's a great guy and we all know it. Maybe you're just jealous that one of those guys hitting on him?" Tangkwa teased, knowing her sister's obsession with David.

"You just don't understand. I just can't bring myself to trust him. I have this feeling that he's still talking about his ex wife. What if one of those guys is a friend of hers? I need to make sure he's all mine!" Kanom said. Tangkwa sighed, knowing this was a lost cause.

"Anyway, how's Khun Maa? I haven't seen her in a while." asked Kanom. "She's at home, went to Korat for some 'business'," Tangkwa responded, a hint of unease in her tone. "I don't think you should meet her now, sis. You know how she is these days— a bit much. I'd think twice before bothering her. Unless you wanna risk it."

Kanom's eyes narrowed, a determined glint sparking within. "I need to talk to her. I have something I need to ask for."

"Don't!" Tangkwa interjected, "She's in no mood to deal with anyone right now, let it go. Besides, Khun Maa seems like she doesn't want to be bothered right now." she urged.

But Kanom was unmoved, her desperation palpable. "I have no choice. I have to keep David for me!" Tangkwa tried to reason with her, but Kanom's mind was made up. She was going to seek the aid from Mother Satjaree, Kanom's powerful, great aunt who also a a witch whose witchcraft was rumored to be both so powerful and dangerous.

Tangkwa's eyes widened at the mention of doing a witchcraft to David. She knew her sister was capable of desperate measures. "Don't even think about it! It's dangerous, Kanom! Khun Maa is really powerful and messing with her isn't wise!" she warned.

Kanom's eyes sparkled with a dangerous determination. “I can't! I have to make sure David is mine, only mine! I'll do whatever it takes!" Kanom said her voice rising with desperation. David remained oblivious to the brewing storm.

As the sisters argued, David approached them, greeting Tangkwa and asking if she'd like another rum runner. She politely nodded, a big smile on her face.

David then looked up at his girlfriend, Kanom, and offered her a small smile. There was something about her vibe lately that made him a bit uncomfortable, and he suspected it had to do with his upcoming trip to visit his sick mother in Florida.

"Sorry, Tangkwa, I don't think I'll be able to make it to your birthday party," David said apologetically. "My mom is pretty sick, and I need to go back to Florida to be with her. But I can send you the presents later, if that's okay?"

Tangkwa's face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered "Oh no… well, that's too bad. I was really hoping you could come, but I understand your mother is your top priority right now!"

Kanom glared at Tangkwa, subtly shoving her shoulder as the sisters exchanged a tense look. After mingling and chatting a bit more, David and Kanom headed home.

Once there, David announced, "Babe, I'm taking a shower and then going straight to bed, okay?" Kanom nodded, a strange glint in her eye as David disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as David was out of sight, Kanom made a phone call to Maa Satjaree. She poured out her concerns about David's impending trip and her growing suspicions about Michelle. Mother Satjaree listened and then offered a solution.

"But both of you must sleep together, after you come to my place," she instructed. "That's the only way the magic will bind David to you. And I'll need his essence as well - tonight."

Kanom agreed to Mother Satjaree's request, then set about gathering the necessary items - David's worn, damp briefs, a few strands of his hair and a small drop of her own blood.

As David stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed, Kanom greeted him with a sweet kiss. He yawned and stretched, then crawled into bed, not noticing Kanom's furtive actions.

She waited until his breathing deepened, signaling he was fast asleep. Then, with a quick, careful movement, she plucked several strands of his blonde hair, placing them in a small ziplock bag. and sent them to Maa Satjaree's home.

The next morning, Kanom approached David with a sly smile. "Babe, can we go somewhere today? My ‘grandma’ is visiting and she's dying to meet you!"

David hesitated, already planning his trip to Bangkok and onward to Miami. "But I need to go to the grocery store to pick up some things. And I have a flight to Bangkok tonight."

"Don't worry!" Kanom interrupted, her eyes gleaming. "I already called her and she understands you can't be gone for long. Please~ she's so excited to see you! It'll be quick, I promise!"

David sighed, unable to resist Kanom's pleading. "Okay, but no more than an hour." Kanom beamed, already knowing that her plan was falling into place.

David followed Kanom, slightly apprehensive but trusting her. As they pulled up to a modest yet well-kept home on the outskirts of town, Kanom turned to him with a bright smile. Something about this impromptu visit to meet her grandmother didn't sit quite right with him, especially given his impending trip back to the States.

"We're here~ This is my grandmother's place. I know it's not much, but she's so excited to meet you!" Kanom said, practically bouncing with giddy anticipation.

David forced a smile, his instincts telling him that something wasn't quite right. "Alright, let's make this quick then. I really do need to get to Big C and catch my flight."

Kanom nodded, "Of course, of course~ Come on, she's waiting inside." They made their way to the front door, which opened before Kanom could even knock. There stood an elderly woman, her weathered features set in a warm, welcoming expression.

"Ah, you must be David! Kanom has told me so much about you," the woman said, her voice carrying a melodic lilt. She ushered them inside, her gaze never leaving David's face. David felt a slight unease settle in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it aside, determined to be polite. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

The woman - whom he assumed was Kanom's grandmother - smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. David felt a shiver run down his spine, as if the old woman could somehow see into the depths of his soul. He cleared his throat nervously, offering a polite smile. Kanom practically beamed, ushering David inside. "Grandma~ this is my David. Isn't he just the most handsome man you've ever seen~"

Mother Satjaree's lips curled into a enigmatic smile as she appraised David, her keen eyes piercing into him. "Well, indeed, my child. He is quite... captivating. Please, call me Maa Satjaree. And the pleasure is all mine." Despite her appearance she spoke English very well.

David's unease grew, and he cautiously followed the two women deeper into the house, unsure of what to expect. As they entered the living room, his gaze was drawn to an altar adorned with candles, traditional masks, paintings and other mystical looking objects.

"Please, have a seat," Maa Satjaree said, gesturing to a wooden craft chair. "We have so much to talk. I’ll go and make you guys ‘tea’." He could've sworn he saw a flash of something unsettling flicker across the room.

David swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. Something told him that this was no ordinary visit, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to be swept into a world he never could have imagined.

Maa Satjaree came back with a tray of three cups of teas. She gave David the tea with cup made from a clay and nicely crafted with Thai mythical being. As he bring it closer to his mouth he smelled something really awful, he almost threw up. “God…”

Kanom’s happy face turned into a worry “Babe, you okay? Why don’t you drink the tea?” Maa Satjaree looked him deeply she didn’t offended or anything. “The smell… it’s awful…” said David with a disgusted and sick look.

Maa Satjaree chuckled softly, “It’s a special tea. It’s made from natural and healthy herbs I grow in my garden. You probably never had it before so of course you couldn’t take the smell but they’re good for your health and stamina. Especially you’re going to have such a long trip back to Florida, yes?”

David look at her in surprised. How did she knew he was going to Florida? Then she looked up to Kanom “Yeah I said it. So she can’t lock you here forever, right?” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Please drink the tea.” Maa Satjaree said while also pretending to drink hers so did Kanom. David felt so uneasy he didn’t want to drink it but he forced it. As he finished gulped it down in disgust, Maa Satjaree relief. They continued to having a small conversation.

But suddenly midway conversation, David felt something lodge inside his throat. It felt like a hair stuck and tingling his throat. He groaned and coughed but the sensation getting more awful.

The weird sensations grew stronger, David's stomach churning uncomfortably. He tried to groan and pull up whatever was stuck in his throat, but the words caught in his constricted windpipe. Suddenly, his body began to shake, a pulsing sensation appearing in his groin especially in his taint and prostate.

"Mmmph...!" David whimpered, the strange feelings both unsettling and strangely pleasurable. He ran to the other side of the room, shoving his fingers into his mouth in a desperate attempt to dislodge whatever was causing the discomfort.

With a sharp tug, he pulled out a long, thick lock of hair - far more than should have been possible. David's eyes widened in shock and fear as he kept pulling, the hair seemingly endless.

"F-Fuck!" he cried out, bewildered by the sight.

With one final, strong pull, a terrifying, ghostly face emerged from his mouth, its gaping maw revealing sharp, serpentine teeth and a long, forked tongue. The specter let out a blood-curdling scream before diving back into David's open mouth and slithering down his body.

David's form convulsed violently as the entity fought for control. After what felt like an eternity of torment, his eyes went blank and lifeless, before suddenly regaining focus - but there was a sinister edge to his gaze now.

The 'new' David walked back to the room, his movements subtly altered. He approached Mother Satjaree and bowed respectfully, standing before her like a statue awaiting her commands. Kanom's eyes were wide with shock. "Wait, so who the hell is inside him, Khun yai?!" she demanded.

Mother Satjaree's lips curled into a chilling smile. "It's the 'magic.' David is still there, but he no longer has free will. He will do anything you please." She turned to the possessed man. "Putt, are you in there?"

'David' nodded, his voice devoid of emotion as he replied in flawless Thai. "ครับ…", (Yes…) Kanom's mouth hung open, her triumph over David's capture tinged with a hint of unease.

Then Maa Satjaree escorted both Kanom and the possessed ‘David’ to a secluded room, a dark, knowing glint in her eyes. "Onto the next ritual, then," She exchanged an unsettling smirk with the possessed 'David.'

Without warning, this new, sinister David grabbed hold of Kanom and began kissing her passionately, his movements frenzied and hungry. He threw her onto the bed, a predatory grin spreading across his face. Kanom let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly morphed into a moan of pleasure as ‘David’ began ravishing her.

"Oh, slow down, David~ Damn!" Kanom breathed, only to be met with a sinister grin as "David" silenced her with a deep, sloppy kiss.

He pulled Kanom into a deep, sloppy kiss, their bodies intertwining as they hastily shed their clothes. 'David's' mouth trailed down her golden skin, caressing and teasing every sensitive spot. He cupped her boobs, kneading them roughly before focusing his attentions on her aching, erect nipples.

Kanom's head fell back, a loud moans spilling from her lips. "D-David..." she whimpered, lost in ecstasy. This was nothing like her experiences with the old David - this new, primal version of him was driving her wild.

'David's' mouth continued its explorations, finally reaching the apex of her thighs. He lapped at her pussy hungrily, his tongue working her into a frenzy. "S-Slow down a bit…" Kanom pleaded, her body trembling with sensations she'd never experience before with the former David.

Unable to contain himself any longer, 'David' lined himself up and thrust ‘his’ hard erected wet cock into her vagina, ‘he’ let out a deep monstrous moan as he began to fuck Kanom.

Meanwhile, behind the wall, Maa Satjaree observed the proceedings, completely naked as she pleasured herself. She could feel every sensation, every shudder of ecstasy that rippled through David and Kanom, her own desire building with each thrust. The dark magic amplifying the sex into the next level.

As David and Kanom's pleasure peaked, David's jaw unhinged inhumanly wide and a thick, slimy tentacle burst forth from his gullet. Kanom screamed in terror as the wriggling appendage lashed out, plunging straight down her throat.

She tried to scream but could only gurgle in terror as the tentacle tunneled deeper, beginning to drink her down. Blood sprayed in thick gouts as 'David's' body convulsed violently, every inch electrified by obscene pleasure while the tentacle sucked Kanom's very life force out through her.

Eyes rolling back until only the whites showed, 'David' rutted mindlessly. Tentacle gulping her down in time with the brutal pussy pounding. Kanom's groans of agony soon degraded to wet gurgles as she grew frailer and more withered by the second, visibly aging decades in mere minutes as her lifeforce was consumed.

Finally she was just a desiccated husk, falling still as 'David' noisily slurped down her last dregs, leaving only a skeleton splayed obscenely on the ruined bedsheets. Both 'David' and Maa Satjaree climaxed, Maa Satjaree collected her squirt juice in a golden Tibetan bowl.

David cracked his neck, eyes twirled crazily before refocusing. Gathering Kanom's bones, he tucked them neatly into a wooden box, leaving just her skull out.

From a drawer, he retrieved an all-black outfit and other thing. Grinning menacingly, 'he' picked up a wooden dildo, its shape an exact replica of David’s penis just painted in black. ‘David’ sucked the tip lewdly before spreading ‘his’ cheeks and slowly impaling ‘himself’ the wooden penis until it went deep inside of ‘him’. With a throaty groan, cum splattering out around ‘his’ erected pink cock.

Once dressed and stuffed, ‘David’ walked into the next room where Maa Satjaree waited. "Did you get her?" She asked. ‘He’ confirmed, presenting Kanom's skull with a smirk. Maa laughed, handing David the bowl of her juices. "Now drink this."

‘David’ gulped it all down greedily until the last drop. David’s phone rang - it was Mason, David brother. At Maa's nod, ‘David’ answered, altering his tone to his former self's.

"Sorry man, can't make it to mom. Gotta stay here... forever." ‘He’ hung up abruptly, crushing the phone to dust in ‘his’ supernatural grip.

‘He’ pulled Maa into a deep, sweet kiss then ‘David’ standing devoid of emotions next to her obediently, awaited Maa Satjaree orders, pure darkness burning behind his eyes…

#my writing #male possession #male tf #male transformation #m2mpossession #male body swap #male body switch #male possess #malepossession #mtm #stolen body #maletf #gay fantasy story #malebodyswap #maletransformation

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possessmedude · 8 months

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Sam and Venom

#Venom #symbiote #symbiotepossession #maletf #male transformation #malepossession #gaymalepossession #goopossession

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mpreghotties · 7 months

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The most wanted pred is melting

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#male vore #gay vore #cock vore #vore police force #charmed leo pregnant #mpreg birth #pregnant man #melting #maletf #male transformation

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chadtfstories · 11 months

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Some BIG Junk In The Trunk

HERE IT IS!!! The Chris Pratt to Elephant Mario Story featuring commissioned art from the one and only NANKEY:https://twitter.com/Nankey_art Please go check him out!!!!!!

Chris Pratt had been attached to help promote the new Mario game. The ad was simple: he would don the Mario Costume and hold an elephant head shaped fruit and say “It’s a me Mario” take a bite, right after an elephant noise would be played then he would turn into Elephant Mario in the game. Chris arrived on set. To his surprise there was only one person waiting. With a smile the man reassured the crew would be there soon and guided Chris to his own room. The room was just a standard backstage makeup room with a single and mirror. Next to the table was the Mario outfit made custom to fit him complete with the cap, gloves, and boots and an elephant shaped apple. Chris turned to say something to the guy but saw he was gone and the door was shut. So Chris went to sit down at the table to wait for the call to be on set. He heard chattering and then silence. Chris sat for 10 minutes on his phone but every ad on his phone was either featuring an elephant or Mario. Each time an ad popped up he looked up at the costume almost like a call to put it on. After the 10th ad he laughed and decided to put on the outfit. It fit him perfectly, even the cap. He was surprised since he never did any measurements. He looked down and grabbed the fruit, it looked juicy and sweet. So he decided to practice. Chris happily said “It’s a me Mario” and took a bite of the fruit which was just as sweet as it looked. He chewed and savored it. It was delicious. He looked down at the fruit with a smile. When he started to feel warm not just around his body but down in his groins. Chris’s dick popped up with such energy, he swore it was getting bigger. He set the fruit down and with one hand grabbed his dick, which sent a huge wave of heat through his body. As Chris groped his growing dick. The suit started to feel snug. His stomach complete with a set of abs started to push out with not just fat but muscles. As hair sprouted on his lips turning into the iconic Mario mustache. With each grope, tug, squeeze of his slowly growing dick in the suit, the more he grew. His arms swelling with muscle and fat. His pecs are losing their definition, but getting bigger nonetheless. He kept going at it, getting extremely hot at this point he looked like he did in Park and Rec but more muscly. He was growing taller, his legs filling out the overalls and his shoes starting to cramp. His dick not just getting longer but getting a girth to it. In a pant he looked up and saw his skin was looking a little rough and gray. He stopped what he was doing to touch his face feeling how course it was getting. In a moment of shock he went to grab his phone to call for help but his hands were starting to get bigger, the gloves growing with them. He couldn’t get it to turn on so he set off to the door. Each step louder than the one previous as he grew bigger and bigger, straining the outfit when halfway a wave of pleasure hit him like a freight train causing him to completely stop and grab his dick. Chris knew he should get help but it just felt so good. His hair started to turn darker and his skin grew leathery and wrinkled. His nose started to grow and flatten while pushing out. His ears grew in size becoming wide and thin. As he panted, tusks started to grow out of his mouth. His dick now at least 17 inches, was as thick as two soda cans now demanded of both of his growing hands. His feet were getting crammed as they reshaped to that of an elephant. Chris now had to weigh over 400 pounds of muscle and fat, and was at least 6’8. The outfit was so tight when a button of the overall popped off triggering a mass change. The outfit ripped and teared as gray leathery skin spilled out the suit. His backend was tight when a ropey tail suddenly ripped out. The red shirt under the overall ripped apart revealing his thick pecs with a dusting of dark hair. His ears were spread out as his nose now trunk stretched further and further. Chris watched his tusks grow out as he started to thrust his body creating friction from his threadbare jockstrap containing his now circumcised thick dick and the overall. He moaned as his shoes burst through the boots revealing elephant feet. The shirt underneath ripped to shreds, revealing a belly huge and round. He let go of his dick with one hand so he could release tension from the overalls. He accidentally ripped half of his overalls clean off, his raging leather dick still encased in the jockstrap shot up, free from the overalls. His gray belly and big hairy pecs jiggled. Chris, now almost the Mario with the elephant powerup, got a last sense of humanity as he quickly looked at the mirror to see his last human features disappear from view besides his blue eyes. His body now a big fat muscular anthro elephant with ripped overalls, two big pair of gloves on his huge hands, a iconic mustache, and finally a just as iconic hat. When suddenly a rush of pleasure sent him thrusting his dick ripping free from the threadbare jockstrap as he turned away from the mirror. He needed to say his catchline. His voice changing to that of Mario's. As he picked up the thrusting. His big hands reaching down to help jerk himself off as he hot and breathy said “ It’s a me Mario” He then blew his trunk in triumphant sound as he climaxed the last of his human seed and the first of his new anthro seed coated the door and wall in thick ropes of cum as he collapsed onto his back. Mario, in his 6 '10 fat but strong anthro elephant power up pantively said “Mamma Mia.”

#maletransformation #maletf #animal transformation #celebrity transformation

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myperfectdad · 2 years

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32. Early retirement

My boyfriend Nick and I never agreed on how to answer the, “So how did you guys meet?” question. I preferred to give half-truths or vague retellings without detail. I usually went with, “We worked together.” It was just enough to answer the question without inviting follow-ups. Nick, on the other hand, never shied away from telling the whole truth. “Brock and I were actors together in an adult film.”

I’m a little embarrassed about my former life making the kinds of films they show in the backs of gay bars. I did it when I was in college to make some extra cash, and it was a great gig, but I never intended to make a career out of it. I certainly never expected I’d fall in love with one of my co-stars. But fall in love I did. Nick and I have been together for seven years, and in that time, I’ve settled into a comfortable and well-paying tech job, happy to leave my past in the past. Nick always used to say that the next film would be his last. Even after I started earning more than enough money to support us both, he kept signing on for “just one more film.”

So many years and so many films put pressure on our relationship. I never doubted his love for me, but our lives were on completely different trajectories. Whereas I looked forward to evenings and weekends to try a new restaurant or get out of the city, Nick was unflinching in his commitment to his diet and exercise. We were the same age, but I’d put on some cubicle weight in my sedentary early 30s, while my boyfriend was still the hardbodied “Nick Thrust” of the last decade.

“I don’t want him to be unhappy. I just wish he was willing to move into a different line of work.”

I was embarrassed to be talking to a life coach on my boyfriend’s behalf, and guilty that Nick had no idea I was doing it. Even considering what I was considering felt like a betrayal.

Jay, the life coach behind Realize Your Potential, LLC, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk.

“It’s a lot to ask. From what you’ve told me, your boyfriend doesn’t really have any other skills to fall back on.”

I shook my head. “No, not really. But I don’t mind being the breadwinner in our relationship.”

Jay cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t resent him at all? Not even a little bit?”

I considered the question. To be honest, my income far exceeded Nick’s, and he only worked a couple days a week. There were times when I’d come home to a messy house and wondered what he got up to all day while I was earning our living.

“I guess,” I said reluctantly. “Maybe just a little.”

“It sounds like you both need to redefine the parameters of your relationship a little. It won’t do either of you any good if Nick is unhappy and you’re resentful.”

Jay leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “I think I can help. Can you bring Nick along next week?”

“Son! Get in here! You gotta see this!”

I chuckled, set down My book, and got up from My chair. My dad always got a bit excited when he was trying a new recipe for the first time. He interrupted a lot—occasionally woke Me up from a dead sleep to show Me something—but I never minded it. I loved giving My dad My attention.

“What’s cooking, dad?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe and folding My arms across My chest.

My dad looked up from the flour-covered countertop and smiled. His beefy, hairy upper body was on display and a bit sweaty. He knew I liked gawking at him while he worked hard kneading dough and chopping vegetables.

“Look at this.” He held up a ball of dough in his rough hands. “Perfectly proved! These are going to be so good with dinner tonight.”

“Sounds good, dad.” He immediately went back to his recipe, the activity consuming his full concentration. I stayed in the doorway to watch him work for a bit. I loved the way My dad looked when he was engrossed in something. He was handsome, but unpredictable. He needed a strong Son to keep him busy and on a short leash. Owning My dad was a lot of responsibility, but I never resented him for a second. My dad was exactly the one I wanted.

#gay #dad #gay dad #maletf

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chadwoodtales · 2 years

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Ryan the Unicorn Until I can figure out how to get videos to Patreon I’ll settle for posting GIFs.

#anthro #gay #unicorn #maletf #gaytf

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bodybeyondstories · 5 months

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Just ignore it - 4

Lee and Armand try to get a handle on David's powers of suggestion before being interrupted by the delivery of yet another weird artifact. David goes for a bike ride to clear his head, only to end up complicating things further by causing some unexpected changes with some unexpected results.

1 | 2 | 3 (Previous) | 5 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass growth // Dick growth // Suggestion // nsfw

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“You transformed Jamal? The new barista upstairs?” asked Lee.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” added Armand, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s already like nine feet tall or something.”

“Well yeah, he is now,” I said, exasperated by the disappointed parents routine I was getting back in the cleanroom. “But he wasn’t an hour ago. Or he was, in a different…timeline or whatever. Which is now this timeline. Or I was in a different timeline. Or the universe just sort of shifted or something, I don’t know.”

Jamal, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, was a possibly genetic, possibly magical anomaly who really did top out at just over nine feet. Why he insisted on keeping his barista job was even more of a mystery, but he was obviously a local attraction wherever he went, leading the coffee chain that managed multiple shops in town to rotate him around location to location, a boon to underperforming and under-trafficked franchises like the one in our building. The line was out the door whenever he was working, with people wanting a selfie, wanting to see him bumble behind the counter with surprising grace in spite of hands that made the espresso machine look like a toy, or just wanting a glimpse at the pipe running down his khakis that was conveniently around eye level and impossible to miss. If you were lucky, he liked you, and the timing was right, you could get an up close and personal experience. I was proud to say I was one of the lucky few ‘regulars,’ and in my recent metaphysically horny state, he had hit just the spot in one of the backrooms. Though it still, somehow, didn’t quite measure up to what Lee could throw down.

But now I was back in the evil snowglobe, feeling like I was facing punishment from sharing what I thought would be exciting new data.

“So, you just talked, and Synt followed suit?” asked Armand, jotting hurriedly into a notepad.

“Sort of? There was kind of a crescendo, maybe. Like Synt found a conduit through my vocal chords and we had to get into the groove. But I don’t think it’s automatic, like I couldn’t just say Armand grew–”

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s slow down,” Armand cut in, hands splayed in caution. “Before you put a whammy on me, too.”

“I mean,” I gestured to his overstuffed crotch, “I kind of already did.”

“Oh! Oh wow,” Lee cut in, rubbing his chin as Armand stood speechless and gaped at his prodigious bulge. “But from your perspective, Armand, from both of our perspectives, it’s…”

“Always been that way,” Armand finished, cheeks reddening. “Or at least my entire adult life. It would make sense. I’ve never had a medical professional successfully explain my…condition. I just sort of got used to it, I guess. Or I was always used to it.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “So we’re getting it now. It’s all about multiplicities of temporal perspectives. We’re all just cosmic threads weavin’ around each other.” I tried to visualize this with a rushed jumble of hand motions, which unfortunately didn’t land with the other two. “But I could probably fix it. I think. Maybe. I don’t think Synt would be on board for a reduction of any sort, so we may have to strategize.”

“No, there’s nothing to fix. I mean, it’s a lot to deal with, but I really am cool with it. My dating life is a mess anyways, and once you get known as that guy with the sixteen inch dick, the luster kind of wears off. I don’t really know what it's like being…normal.”

“The methods are messy to say the least,” said Lee, “but we may be starting to get somewhere. As much as we would love to keep investigating, further tests might have to wait. The park ranger guys are sending over some artifact they found and I think they’re due any minute.”

As if on cue, a nervous tap on the door reminded the three of us that as much as we would like to play around with my shiny new body morphing, reality shifting chaos magic we all had other work to do. I was getting up to take the back exit and head upstairs when I felt a tug in the direction of our visitor. My attention was pulled by some strong magnetic force toward the door as whoever was trying to enter awkwardly began pushing it open. Unconsciously, my foot steps shifted direction as the attraction felt stronger and deeper. And oddly familiar. Eventually, I recognized this feeling as Synt having their interest piqued enough to guide me to physically move in that direction. I was not a fan of this new development in our dynamic, but decided to see where it led.

“You need some help?” I offered, trying to play it off as me moving to give them a hand with the door rather than me being compelled for yet another mysterious reason.

“Nah, I’m good,” came a familiar voice, and as the door fully opened, I recognized Blake’s ass as it entered the room before the rest of him. “It’s just hard to maneuver this thing.”

It took me a second to realize he didn’t mean the globes of his ridiculous bubble butt, becoming the undeniable center of attention as he backed through the doorway, but actually the cart he was pulling with him. As the door swung back and he casually bounced it away with one hip, I couldn’t stop staring. I thought at this point I would be used to comically ballooning backsides, his most of all, but it looked even bigger than it had last night. In fact, as he entered the room the rest of him looked bigger too. If the seams of his pants and shirt sleeves had been strained beyond all reason last night, then now he was one strong sneeze away from public nudity. I thought maybe it was just the change of scenery, like how fitness influencers will take advantage of good lighting to show off a juicy pump, but I was pretty sure he was…bigger. Lee and I exchanged glances as if to wordlessly reassure each other that we weren’t just imagining that Blake was noticeably taller than he had been last night. The subtle accusatory squint of his eyelids was returned by a sharp look of denial from me. This wasn’t me, I thought. Unless, possibly it was. Maybe the growth last night had a slow release function, or some sort of chain reaction.

I mentally relayed Lee’s suspicious squint to Synt, who responded with a deep rumble of appreciation. They had a fixation on Blake, I now realized, and those two teaming up could be a disastrous combination.

“You want this in the uh, special circle?” Blake gestured to the circumference of sigils which were now glowing with an even higher brightness and frequency. That can’t be good, I thought.

“Yeah, that’s fine until we figure out what to do with it,” said Armand. “What is it, by the way? The report they sent in was kind of muddled. But then again, so is everything from the Marshlands.”

That place again. I was transported back to some spot on the map that I couldn’t identify, felt pushed out of space and time. Threads weaving, fraying, overlapping, forming fractal patterns down to quantum scales, building higher dimensional frameworks of cross-temporal superpositions, all coming together right there–

“...so we couldn’t really even tell how old it is, which is where we hoped you guys would come in,” Blake was saying. “Palmer, you got any tips?”

I snapped back to reality at the mention of my name. I had spaced out again, unclear for how long.

“I, uh, need to get back to my office,” I said. “I can look into it once I have the preliminary analysis from Lee and Armand.”

“You sure?” Blake asked, in that way that wasn’t so much a question but an unspoken invitation. I found my shoulders relaxing and my mind wandering. His easy smile was so intoxicating, but there was also a glint in his eyes. A hunger, as he seemed to casually look me up and down, almost as if he was seeing through me. Synt was laser focused on Blake, a low pressure system of gathering power causing the sigils to change color, which I didn’t even know they could do. He clapped a strong hand against my bicep (when had he gotten that close) and said, “Anyways, always good running into you. Let me know what you find.”

Again, I felt that electric thrill run from his body into mine, except it was more like neurons firing. I had more clarity than last night and I could feel a complex undercurrent beneath that hunger, a need for something more, a vision of something bigger. The dam was once again threatening to burst, but I now had solid control over my own legs and began briskly heading to the door with a terse “Yep, I’ll keep you posted.”

I practically sprinted back up to my office, terrified of accidentally touching anyone for fear of producing another ten foot freakshow in the building for the second time that morning. My mind was a whirlwind of my own ever present horniness, mixed with Synt’s unrelenting power, and their clear frustration at being taken away from their favorite willing subject. Blake was becoming their muse, in some weird way, and we both needed a pressure valve. But underneath Synt’s frustration was something else. My own itch of power and possibility and the knowledge that I could so easily scratch it.

I tried to be productive at my desk that morning. My muscles would clench periodically as I held in waves of Synt’s magic, my body and mind fatiguing in the face of an unstoppable force. Taunting me, Synt would dangle images of possibilities so close within reach. How easy it would be for Blake to expand into a wall of juicy muscle, having to turn his body to get his shoulders through the doorway but having his bubble butt get stuck anyways. Armand was already cool with having a monster cock, maybe he’d appreciate an even twenty inches. That’d look amazing. And would it hurt to give Jamal a few more inches in height? Maybe even a foot? I imagined him walking into my office growing steadily taller, head bumping against the ceiling then punching through as plaster rained down–

I slammed my palms firmly on the table and stared for as long as possible at a wall of unread emails, comprehending not a single one.

“I need to get some air.”

—

I took the stairs and headed to the bike rack around the back of the building. Walking around aimlessly felt too risky in the state I was in. Too much proximity, too many opportunities for accidental direct contact. I had felt like I could see into Blake’s soul when he grabbed my arm, like I could’ve granted his wildest, horniest fantasies with a thought. I shivered at the knowledge that Synt would co-sign exactly this brand of recklessness. I felt like I was burning with static. I could practically see it dancing along my skin. I was in no condition to be milling about in a crowd until I got around to relieving even a fraction of this pressure.

“David!” hailed a voice nearby as I was squeezing on my helmet. I looked over to see Noah, my former student who had been blessed (or cursed) by Synt in more ways than one. Not only did he end up with a set of hips and ass cheeks that comically ballooned from his otherwise thin frame, but had also fallen into a pattern of stumbling into bigger and bigger dicks around town. I reasoned that the man with him was likely his latest beau, due not just to the hand wrapped around Noah’s tight waist, but the snake smuggled into his right pant leg. The spell, apparently, had not yet been broken.

“Noah!” I responded, “looks like you’re doing as well as possible after this last semester.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This reminds me, I need to chat with you again about that…positive feedback loop I’ve been dealing with.”

“I can imagine,” I winked, pretending not to notice the twitch of his acquaintance’s massive bulge as he shifted his hand down to rest on Noah’s round booty. Was Noah just magically happening on these already huge dicks or was he unknowingly bending reality every time he set his eyes on a new crush? Was there an upper limit? To any of this? Much to investigate, I thought, but resolved to cut the conversation short before my imagination once again got the best of me. “Shoot me an email, I’ve got plenty of time this week,” I said, speeding off away from campus.

I hadn’t had time to change into my cycling gear, not that those lycra shorts did anything to mitigate the size of my ass. I had made peace with the fact that my bodacious buns were simply always on display, in this instance encased in a skirt and tights, the bike seat completely disappearing beneath them. There wasn’t much I could do about it, and honestly, I liked the attention.

I felt free weaving through the city streets, regardless of the fact that I was fighting for my life against late morning traffic. It was a welcome respite from the stifling air of my office, the wind cooling me down and alleviating at least some of the magical irritation covering my entire body. I didn’t know where I was going, and didn’t really care. Plus, I was moving too fast to focus on any one person for long enough to give them an impromptu BBL. Instead, the cityscape just felt like waves of passing static, tiny glimpses of people’s fantasies and desires that were gone as soon as they were detected, with the occasional ping of attention from a pair of eyes that had locked on to my bubble butt as it cruised through their field of vision.

For the length of a few city blocks, one of these pings of focus didn’t seem to leave me, and as I came up at a stoplight I turned around to see another cyclist flashing me an awkward and quickly thrown together smile of greeting, as if to insist that he hadn’t just been ogling me up and down.

“Can’t blame ya,” I said with a smile and nod, plus a wink for good measure. He was cute. He looked like he was a bike messenger by the rectangular pack balanced behind his shoulders, the well developed forearms and quads, and a look of practiced exertion that said he wasn’t just out here for the endorphins. I was sure he was perpetually in a hurry, so I figured I should literally get out of his lane while on my metaphysically horny break from work.

I meandered right as he continued straight, letting my eyes linger on his meaty calves just long enough to almost crash headlong into a sporty coupe in a mediocre attempt at parallel parking. I swerved out of the way as he honked and yelled “Dick!” just loud enough for me to hear through the half rolled down driver's side window.

What I said in response was not my wittiest comeback or even the most well thought out public interaction, but I had to offer a counter while still within earshot. But as I yelled “Super dick!” back at the finance bro emerging from his car, I immediately regretted the decision, feeling Synt’s power slip through the ether.

“You know I didn’t mean that!” I said aloud to the otherworldly being in my head. “You don’t understand epithets? Metaphors and what not?”

They sent the impression of a lazy shrug.

“What does super dick even mean? Like what did that do?”

Another shrug.

I was worried. What did I just accidently curse this guy with? Should I go investigate? What would that even mean? I thought maybe I could fix whatever it was. Use some string of words to undo whatever it is I just did.

I circled the block, parking my bike in front of the fancy building my unsuspecting victim had presumably been about to enter. It looked like it probably had moderate security and I had no plan of entry, and was definitely not dressed like I had any important business downtown. Entering through the big glass revolving doors, I locked eyes with the security desk, trying to look as casual as possible on my approach while they gave me a bored once over. In my performance of nonchalance, I glanced to the left and breathed a sigh of relief as I spotted my mark at the register of a lunch place on the bottom floor. With a curt smile to security, I changed direction, slipping into the line of the sandwich shop.

In the bustle of the lunch rush, I spotted him sitting on a stool at the bar along the window, drinking a green smoothie, scrolling on his phone, and pulling out a small laptop. I kept my eyes on him as the line progressed, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but he was the image of business class normalcy, perched on his stool in a designer suit and tapping away at some spreadsheet.

I picked up my sparkling green tea and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich (I actually was hungry) and found that one of the few available seats left was, luckily, right next to him.

Incredibly, he seemed to be unaware that I was the person who had almost taken off his side mirror with my right hip, studiously ignoring me as I ate my sandwich and glanced at my phone to see multiple texts from Lee. I opened the latest one but was interrupted by a grunt of discomfort from my new friend. He shifted in his seat and glanced briefly at me, his cheeks reddening slightly as he continued working. A few minutes later, another shift in position, chugging the rest of his smoothie before folding his hands into each other and resting his head against them. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he glanced around quickly and held himself in a tense position, trying to focus on his laptop screen.

When I was just about to return to whatever it was Lee felt the need to triple text about, he let out a heavy sigh as his breathing deepened, then glancing around again, carefully got up and turned towards me.

“Watch my stuff?” he asked tersely, the sheen of sweat on his face turning to visible beads.

That’s when I felt it. The now familiar resonant strum of reality warping magic that told me Synt’s power was at work.

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled through bites of my sandwich, my eyes flitting down as I noticed a jump of movement along his pant leg.

“Thanks,” he grunted, turning to power walk to the bathroom, his bubble butt–which I didn’t remember being there before–swishing back and forth in his slacks.

I waited a solid twenty minutes–okay, more like fifteen–before following him to investigate further.

As I entered the bathroom, it was empty except for one occupied stall, the lemony scent of cleaning products overlaid with something musky and slightly metallic. There had been a soft moan coming from the occupied stall, which seemed to self-consciously quiet down in response to the sound of the door closing and my footsteps heading to one of the urinals. I did my business like normal as the moans slowly increased in intensity, interspersed with grunts and low utterances.

“Oof, fuck,” I heard a whisper, recognizing what little I had heard of the finance bro’s voice.

“Is everything okay in there?” I asked innocently with a light knock on the stall, knowing good and well some supernatural fuckery that I had personally caused was well underway.

“All good, I just–augghhhh!”

You’ll have to believe me when I say the stall door opened on its own.

My new friend was sitting on the toilet with his pants up and his fly open. He was breathing heavy and drenched in sweat, eyes widened in surprise as he saw me standing there, which shifted to a look of lust and urgent need as he drank me in. He seemed in visible distress, which probably had something to do with the rock hard dick that was reaching into the air just past his left shoulder.

“Sorry, I–” he was cut off as it seemed to jump up another inch, spurting a glob of precum that fell to the floor. His hands slid desperately up and down the length of his shaft, each one barely able to reach halfway around. With another spurt of pre, I noticed his fingers slightly pushed farther apart.

“It…it won’t stop until I…”

“Not my first rodeo,” I cut him off, entering the stall fully and closing the door behind me. “Do you mind if I help?” I asked, gesturing to his angry purple cockhead.

He nodded enthusiastically in relief and anticipation, his face contorting as another spasm hit.

Even with my repertoire of accidental and deliberate magical augmentations, I could only extend my jaw so far, struggling to make it several inches down his massive member, starting slow and building with intensity.

A little help here? I asked Synt, who responded with gusto, my mouth and throat suddenly seeming to defy the laws of physics as I eased farther and farther down the shaft. Finance bro was blissfully unaware of the pocket dimension that his dick had now fully disappeared into as his head lolled back in ecstasy.

“No one’s…been able to do this…in so long,” he muttered as his breath became erratic and he began involuntarily thrusting into me.

I worked my way diligently up and down, now moaning along with him in pleasure as I swallowed his impossible schlong. His whole body began to spasm with burgeoning orgasm, blasting several shots of jizz directly into my throat that I hungrily gulped, hoping whatever this pocket dimension situation was could also handle his huge load.

I pulled myself off his dick, his mushroom head emerging from my lips with a pop. But as his eyes rolled back and his breathing continued to crescendo, I realized he wasn’t done. Those had actually been the initial volleys to what turned into a geyser of cum, gushing uncontrollably against the wall for at least another thirty seconds, rope after rope splattering behind him as he tried desperately to bite back a primal scream that would have definitely alerted the rest of the establishment (and maybe even the offices above).

Finally, he spent his load, visibly exhausted. He leaned his head back as his dick began to mercifully deflate, landing softly on his face and leaving a trail of slime as it shrank to a much smaller, but massive by any other standards, flaccid state.

I heard a loud gurgle emanate from my belly full of jizz, along with a wave of disorientation that left me leaning against the wall for support. Noticing this, he came back to his senses, his blissed out grin fading into self-conscious clarity.

“This uh, happens sometimes,” he said, with an air of comically misplaced masculine professional decorum that was so out of place I may have actually laughed out loud.

“Sometimes?” I repeated, as he carefully maneuvered his donkey dick back into what looked like a specially made pouch running along his pant leg. My stomach gurgled again, louder this time, and the wave of disorientation came along with a full body spasm. I felt my muscles tensing and becoming denser with muscle as my body stretched against the fabric of my carefully fitted clothes, my ass expanding to press up against the door behind me. When I came back to my senses, I recognized the wave of disorientation as a sudden growth spurt, leaving me a couple inches taller. This might as well happen, I thought, taking note of how the top edge of the stall was now right at eye level. During my brief ordeal, finance bro had jumped up to support me with arms that were much stronger than they looked, a bold move seeing as I had already towered over him.

“...Yeah, no idea,” he said, as if referring to a WiFi outage and not a magnitude jumping jizz volcano baseball bat dick that also apparently had its own growth powers. “Hey, uh, text me sometime,” he added, then materialized a business card in his hand, and slipped it into my pocket. “You were amazing.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a jocular pat on my butt, then turned to stroll out of the bathroom like he hadn’t just painted the wall with cum.

Men. I managed to be exasperated in spite of being wildly horny, not to mention mildly worried about the magic mega wang that I had accidentally set loose on the city. Maybe I should follow up with him, just to fill him in on this whole situation, I thought. But it seems like he’s actually doing fine.

Mmhm, came a self-satisfied smirk from my companion.

I cleaned myself up as best I could, debating whether I should leave a tip with a note attached apologizing for the large puddle of jizz in the middle stall. As I looked myself over in the mirror, I noticed that while I had grown, it hadn’t been by that much in terms of basic physical metrics, but I seemed…more powerful. Like inherently I knew my musculature was much more capable than it looked–and it looked like I was verging on pro bodybuilder. “Super dick,” I mused, with a wry smile.

I came out to see my bathroom dalliance strolling coolly down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the window, heading back to the pretentious coupe that started all this. I tossed what was left of my lunch, walked out, grabbed my bike, and resolved to make it back to the office without incident.

—

Incident came ten minutes later as I pulled up to a stoplight and found myself parked behind my cyclist friend. Now it was my turn to fall into a trance at the sight of his toned, heart shaped bubble butt.

“Can’t blame ya,” he said with a wink.

And now it was my turn to blush as I was caught staring. My encounter with the finance bro had left me even more riled up with still no release, and I was losing any cool I thought I had.

“We’ve, uh, gotta stop meeting like this,” I said with a nervous chuckle as I caught his gaze.

“No, we can definitely keep meeting like this,” he retorted.

“Cute and confident,” I said. So it was a meet-cute. “Aren’t you at work right now?” I teased. “Or is the messenger bag just for show?”

“For you, I’m on break,” he said with a defiant smile.

“Oh so this is just your workout,” I replied, deciding to test the waters for a little fun. “You’re not skipping leg day apparently.”

“Look who’s talking!” he exclaimed with mock surprise. “You sure you’re not an Olympic cyclist with those yams?”

“Yams? It’s all aesthetic, you’ve definitely got me beat.”

And there it was. I felt Synt’s power slip out, my eyes widening in realization. How did I not catch that? I thought.

Time–the relative timespace of this conversation between me and my bike messenger crush–seemed to slow down and shift textures. Through Synt’s extrasensory abilities, I could again see timelines breaking, shifting, and reforming in the space around the cyclist’s lower half. His quads, hams, and glutes–especially glutes, I noticed–seemed to pixelate and come back together as they found the path of least resistance to match Synt’s interpretation of my command. I stared, awestruck, as his musculature seemed to inflate in real time as it moved through temporal lenses, his cargo pants adjusting along with the growing shelf of ass overtaking his bike seat, until suddenly they were replaced with lycra, stretched tight across a colossal booty. Still the same heart shaped ass, just scaled up and disproportionately juicy on top of some serious hamstrings.

“Haha, guess so,” he said, with the air of someone used to people staring blankly at his huge cakes. “Honestly, I thought this bike gig would slim me down some, but it just seemed to make things worse.” He patted one round cheek, sending a jiggle through his lycra shorts that could stop traffic.

The light changed, signaling that the meet-cute was drawing to a close.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said. “Name’s Devon.”

“Uh, David,” I responded, as he kicked off and cruised through the green light. I stood entranced by the ass I had just magically inflated, before I got myself together and headed off in a different direction back towards my office.

You know I didn’t mean that, I said to Synt, who didn’t seem to care.

---

I did feel somewhat relieved as I jogged up the stairs of my building, yet still in persistent need of some sort of relief. Finding the door slightly open, I was pleasantly surprised to find just the person who could tide me over.

“Lee!” I exclaimed. “Thank god you’re here. You down for a quickie?”

“That’s not why I’m here,” he responded. “But, I mean, yeah,” he followed up, long dick jumping down his pant leg in anticipation. Lee lounged against my desk, his lithe body posted up casually as he flipped through some book that he had happened to grab off the shelf, probably bored waiting for my return. Instead of the usual easy smile with an undercurrent of indulgent lust, he looked all business, like he had an important message. “Did you get my emails? My texts?” he asked. “We had some…interesting preliminary findings from the artifact that Blake brought in. Wait, are you taller?”

“Interesting how?” I asked, stripping off my leggings before remembering to kick the door closed behind me. “And yes, I’ll fill you in on the latest.”

He shut the book, leveling a look of tentative excitement in my direction, briefly obscured as he whipped his shirt off. “We need to go do some fieldwork.”

#male tf #ass growth #butt growth #dick growth

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juanbodyswapstfs · 1 year

Text

Im your Daddy now

Story suggestion by @mergeatrois

I’ve always been fairly close with my Dad. I really appreciated all the effort he put in to provide a safe home for me! My Dad and I have the same interests but are still way different from each other. We’re both huge Football fans and love the San Francisco 49ers. One of the reasons my Dad and I were totally different from each other was im gay, its not like I made it my whole personality and was pushy about it. My Dad was really accepting and understanding but I still felt like he treats me different.

The next day

I was at home waiting for my Dad to come home when I heard a knock on the door. I looked outside and it was my Dad with another Guy? I opened the door and welcomed them both in with a smile confused. “Hey Lucas! this a friend of mine I go to the Gym with his name is Mike!” Dad said. “Hey dude nice to meet you!” Mike then winked at me with a grin on his face. “Hello!” I said confused. “We’ll both be in my room then we’ll head to the Gym, theres food in the fridge.” My Dad said. “Make sure not to come in unless you wanna see something.” Mike whispered to me. I was so confused but couldn’t help but find Mike really hot. I decided to take a peek inside my Fathers room when I saw Mike and my Dad Making out and having Sex! I couldn’t believe it why would they do it with me in the house?

It was so weird totally hot. My dick starting getting hard and I couldn’t help myself but jerk off while watching Mike dominate my Dad. Oh how I wish I could be my Dad. I starting touching my dick grabbing it and jerking off, I imagined Mike fucking my asshole which made me reach my climax. Once I shot my hot steamy load I accidentally let out a moan which caused Mike to see me through the little open door and thats when he starting thrusting even more causing my Dad to moan like hell.

They finally stopped and I went to my room like nothing happened. My Dad came into my room and said he was going to the Gym with Mike, He then kissed me on my forehead. Before they left Mike said he forgot something and came up stairs into my room. “Hey Luke.. did you enjoy seeing your dad get fucked by a big alpha dominant man like me?” He said. “Why do you want me seeing that?” I said confused. “Here.” Mike said and gave me a bottle of cologne. “See you soon.” Mike said then left. I was confused as why he would give me a Cologne bottle.

Night Time

My dad finally came home from the Gym if he even went to the Gym. “Hey bud how did you like Mike?” My father said. “He was fine I guess.” I said. “Well, I have something important to tell you.” “What is it?” I said. “Mike and I are engaged, and we are getting married in two weeks.” My Father said. “Woah dad you did an amazing job at pretending to be straight!” I said. “Im sorry if you felt like I treated you different because you were gay son.” My Father said sincerely. “Its fine dad im glad you can tell me.” “Well goodnight bud” My Father kissed me on the lips and said goodnight. My Father has never showed me that much affection and I got a little turned on. Oh how I wish I could live as my Dad, being a daddy, old, and sexy. I tried and tried to go to sleep but just couldn’t. I grabbed the cologne Mike gifted me and looked at the back, Wish Cologne: Spray this cologne and wish away! I sprayed the Cologne with hope that I could become my Dad. I waited and waited for something to happen but nothing happened. I went to sleep hoping I would wake up as my Dad.

In the Morning,

As I woke up I felt somebody at my side.

“Hey gorgeous, ready to take my morning wood Lucas?” Lucas? How does he know its me? “Oh i’ve been wanting you this whole time, now obey me and licky my armpits boy.” Luke said. Lukes balls kept hitting my ass like a battling ram while his long thick dick kept inserting my hole filled with his hot steamy sperm. My Son interrupted our personal time, “What are you looking at Richard? Come over here and let your Dad fill your ass with cum.” Luke said. I inserted my Huge manly dick into my son while he moans. “Like that lil boy? Im your daddy now.”

Im really sorry for not posting in a while! I’ll be sure to make more stories and be active! Comment Story suggestions! ❤️

#bodyswap #himbotransformation #hunktransformation #m2f transformation #male body swap #male tf #male transformation #malebodypossesion #father to son #male body possession #dad and son body swap #menbodyswap #bodyswitch #maletf

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vintagegoodytwoshoes · 3 years

Text

Brain Drain

Sergeant Kristof checked his flat top in the rearview mirror of his car. As always, it was perfectly level with a hint of the landing strip peeking through. Still, it didn’t hurt to check. He didn’t make it this far in his military career without being sure about everything. And yet, here was full of doubt.

He had a reputation for being one of the top recruiters in the service. One of his superiors joked that if it weren’t for him, there wouldn’t even be a Marine Corps. He had a knack for finding the boys who needed guidance, the firm hand of the United States military to give them purpose, and convincing them to enlist. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he got to shave their heads. After all, that was his favorite part. Watching an undisciplined young man with shaggy hair lose all those wild locks as he began down a path of extreme discipline on his quest to become a well-trained soldier in Uncle Sam’s military? Who could resist!?

But now he was full of doubt. He always brought in these young athletic men, straight off the football team or baseball team but now his division was facing what his superiors called a “brain drain.” All these hot hunky soldiers were good, but there was barely half a brain cell between all of them. Sergeant Kristof was tasked with finding someone who could actually think. And that’s how he found himself parked outside the aerospace engineering building of the local university trying to find the next perfect victi--errr--recruit.

There were certainly plenty of potentials. The campus was awash in scrawny, brainy types who would almost certainly bring up the average IQ of his unit but how to pick which one to target? Usually he sought out boys with rippling physiques (and long hair) but how do you know which spindly nerd to turn into a Marine? He got out of his Hummer to stretch his legs, go for a walk, and do some thinking.

Sergeant Kristof had barely taken a step when he collided with one of the student. The student, a tall, lanky creature, bounced right off of Sergeant Kristof with his tree trunk physique.

“Excuse me, sir,” the young man stammered as he struggled to find his glasses amidst the giant pile of books he had been carrying. “I’m so sorry! I was preoccupied with one of my textbooks and I wasn’t watching where I was going. I don’t mean to be so clumsy!”

The sergeant watched this pathetic excuse for a man flail helplessly on the ground and a grin spread across his face. The boy was a wimp, that much was clear. But he was clearly a devoted student, exactly the kind of brain his superiors wanted. And he was tall, too, had to be at least 6’5” though he couldn’t weight more than 160 pounds sopping wet. That was OK. That was what basic training was for. But what really got Sergeant Kristof going was the boy’s hair: an unkempt mess of ginger locks, greased and sideparted clumsily with a cowlick in the back. The hair was beautiful and messy… and boy would it look good shaved off on the floor.

Sergeant Kristof bent down and picked up the boy’s extremely thick aviator glasses. “Here you go, son.” He helped the boy up and gathered his books for him.

“Gosh, thank you so much. I just want to apologize again for being so--” Suddenly the boy stopped speaking. As he put his glasses back on his head, he caught a glimpse of Sergeant Kristof for the first time. No one this handsome had ever spoken to him before, let alone help him out. The nerd took in Sergeant Kristof and his rippling physique and his chiseled jaw. But most of all, he couldn’t take his eyes of Sergeant Kristof’s precise flat top. A smile formed on Sergeant Kristof’s face. This was the one.

“I’m Sergeant Kristof, USMC,” he said reaching out to shake the young man’s hand. He barely had a grip and the sergeant was scared he would break the nerd’s hand.

“I’m G-g-g-gilbert,” stammered the young man. “Pleased to meet ya!”

“Nice to meet you, too, son. Say, I was just exploring your campus and figured I could use a cup of coffee. Is there a cafe on campus you could show me to?”

“Well, I was supposed to be going to the library. See, they have the illustrated edition of Lord of the Rings on hold for me and it’s always checked out so I’ve been waiting for months to get them and I’m really eager to…” Again the boy fell silent. He was nervously rambling as he so often did. But when he noticed the warm fatherly way that Sergeant Kristof stared at him, he felt almost a sense of peace.

“Come on, you can pick your book up later. I’ll even buy you a cup as thanks!”

Gilbert fidgeted nervously. It would be rude not to take this man up on his offer after all! And the sergeant was right, he could always go later.

“Sure thing, Sergeant! We can go to the cafe in the student center!”

“I’d like that very much, son. Lead the way!”

The two cut quite the image strolling across the campus. Sergeant Kristof and his giant biceps, tree trunk legs, large chest and severe horseshoe flat top contrasted humorously with Gilbert, his greasy red hair flapping in the wind, his wrinkled button down shirt tucked in to his high waisted pants, his thick glasses askew on his face. The sergeant had to walk quickly to keep up with the tall, lanky geek who was rambling on and on about his studies as he fidgeted with his pocket protector. The poor kid almost tripped over his feet a couple times. This is going to be a challenge, the sergeant thought to himself. But it would be so worth it.

Over coffee, the sergeant got Gilbert’s entire life story. The boy sure could talk… but basic training would teach him when to shut up. His father had left at an early age and his mom had to work so he was left alone alot. He would watch Star Trek reruns on the TV and develop a lifelong interest in sci-fi and space travel. That’s what made him want to become an aerospace engineer. But while he enjoyed his studies, he found it hard to focus out here in the real world.

The sergeant reached out and placed his big meaty hand on the nerd’s scrawny one and Gilbert nearly spit out his coffee.

“You know, son, I used to have similar problems. When I graduated high school, I found the real world a bit disorienting. Believe it or not, I used to be a bit of a momma’s boy myself. But that’s when I found the Marines and they made a real man out of me. Gave me the focus and discipline I needed to become the man I am today. Have you ever considered enlisting, son?” The sergeant noticed the way that Gilbert was fixating on his flattop and the way his eye twitched whenever he called him “son.” Good, he was getting to him.

“N-n-n-no sir,” Gilbert stammered. “I’ve always been so weak and uncoordinated. I figured the military was for athletic types!”

“It takes all kinds to protect this great nation of ours, son. If we only took men in perfect shape, well, we wouldn’t get anyone. That’s what basic training is for. Why, even you would end up strong and athletic after basic training. But your brain? That’s what would set you apart, son.” He could see the look in Gilbert’s eyes. This promise of a brighter future combined with the sergeant’s dominant fatherly tone was getting to him. He checked his watch. “Listen son, I need to get going but I’ll be back on campus next week. What say we meet up for coffee again and we can talk about it then.”

“Gee whiz, sir, I’d like that. I guess I should get going, too. After all, I’ve got to get my book from the library.” The two men shook hands and Gilbert got up to leave, tripping over his own chair and taking a tumble. This would be a challenge, thought the sergeant.

The next week, the sergeant was waiting in the campus coffee shop, curious as to whether the boy would return. He was just about to give up and head back to the base when he heard some commotion behind him. There he was, that clumsy ginger-haired geek, struggling to get his backpack free from the coffee shop door where it had become entangled with the door handle. He finally got it free. He spotted the sergeant and waved, as the other coffee shop customers laughed under the breath. Poor kid, he definitely needed all the help he could get.

“Sorry I’m late, sergeant!” the geek said as he took a seat. “I was at the library!”

“Let me guess, you had some other fantasy novel you needed to check out?”

The boy snorted with laughter. “Gosh no! I never even checked out the illustrated Lord of the Rings book, sir! I went to pick it up last week and I noticed a display on military history and, well, our conversation peaked my curiosity so…” The boy spilled the contents of his backpack out on to the table. Tomes of military history, mostly focused on the Marine Corps tumbled out. “You know, military history is so fascinating! The tactics, the technology, the strict haircuts, um I mean, uhhh…”

“It’s ok, son. I understand your passion! And yes, the haircuts are pretty great if I say so myself.”

“They sure are,” said Gilbert, his eyes wide with admiration as the sergeant rubbed his hand instinctively across his wide, smooth landing strip.

“So are you thinking about enlisting, Gilbert?”

“Well, it’s certainly very tempting…”

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“I see the appeal, really I do,” said the nerd, hesitating. The sergeant knew he needed to turn up the heat. He pulled his comb from his pocket and ran it through the front of his horseshoe flat, making it stand perfectly at attention. Gilbert’s adam’s apple quivered as he gulped. The sergeant returned his comb to his pocket and reached across the table, taking the nerd’s hand in his own. The sergeant could feel the sweat on the boy’s flesh as he looked nervously into the sergeant’s eyes.

“You’re going to enlist, son. You’re going to make this country proud.”

“Yes, sir. You’re right. I want to do this.”

The sergeant smiled. Jackpot! He got up and embraced the boy (and noticed a prominent bulge in the boy’s high waisted khakis).

“We’ll go tomorrow and fill out the paperwork, son.”

“I can’t wait,” said Gilbert and he really meant it. An confident smile broke across his face, unlike any expression the sergeant had ever seen him make before. This boy really needed this.

“Although, if you want to make a good impression on the recruiter, there’s really one thing we should do tonight.”

“Really, sir? And what’s that?”

-----

The sergeant draped the cape over the trembling nerd’s body. His quarters were spartan--after all, the USMC had taught the sergeant that he didn’t need much to be happy--but he still maintained the beautiful vintage barber chair for when he gave his special recruits their first cuts.

“Showing up with your head shaved will show the recruiter that you’re ready to become a Marine and leave the civilian world behind. You want to show them that you’re serious, don’t you, son?”

Gilbert gulped. The sergeant took his thick glasses and the boy squinted helplessly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” said Sergeant Kristof. He pulled out his clippers and turned them on. The loud hum was a welcome sound for him but he could tell Gilbert was nervous. “Don’t worry, son, you’ll get used to these cuts.” The sergeant licked his lips as he approached the boy’s greasy red locks and with one swipe took out his first sizeable chunk. It trickled down the cape and into the boy’s lap. The sergeant recognized the look on his face: a mixture of regret and anticipation. He also recognized that telltale bulge under the cape. This would not be the last time he cut this boy’s hair personally.

With another swipe came another tumble of ginger hair. The sergeant rubbed his thumb along the freshly shorn bristles, ecstatic to see another one of these long-haired boys well on their way to becoming a properly groomed masculine man. He tilted the boy’s head back, almost too forcefully, and stared into his eyes as he took the next few swipes. Even though the boy was squinting without his glasses, the sergeant saw the ecstasy overtaking the boy’s mind.

“You’re going to make such a perfect soldier,” he told him as he took the next swipe. “The Marines will make a real man out of you. Just like they did to me. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes, sir,” whimpered the boy as another cascade of hair tumbled down his cheek.

“Now, you’re going to have to be more forceful than that when you enlist, son. Try it again.”

“Yes… YES SIR!” said Gilbert with a grin. He had never spoken so confidently, but he had never had someone who believed in him the way Sergeant Kristof did.

“Good boy,” said the sergeant. The boy’s hair hung in piles all around him. He handed the boy his glasses back and heard him gasp.

“I look… so bald!” he said.

“No you don’t,” said the sergeant. “But you will.” He took the boy’s glasses again and pulled out the shaving cream. He worked up a lather and spread it over the boy’s bristles. He grabbed the boy from behind to brace himself as he took out the straight razor and dragged it across his scalp. The little red bristles looked like cinnamon spread into the shaving cream as he wiped it off on the towel. Scrape after scrape brought off more of these bristles until the job was done. He wiped the boy’s head down, grabbed the baby oil, and rubbed it into the nerd’s scalp until it shone brightly. Finally, he handed the boy his glasses back and heard him gasp again.

“Sir, I’m bald!”

“Shocking isn’t it?” laughed the sergeant.

“It’s… it’s so manly!” the boy gasped as he rubbed his smooth scalp.

“You look great, son. Now let’s get you home and get you to bed. Tomorrow, you’re becoming an enlisted man.”

----

Boot camp served Gilbert very well, as it often does for boys who lack discipline in their life. He adjusted quite well to the strict schedule and though he struggled at first with the physical requirements of the training, whenever he felt like giving up, he would catch a glimpse of Sergeant Kristof out of the corner of his eye. There he was, this paragon of military masculinity, keeping a watchful eye over Gilbert. Gilbert knew if he kept at it, he could be just like this man who had placed so much faith in him. He had started to think of this man as a father figure and he knew he owed it to him to achieve no matter what. With Sergeant Kristof in his mind, Gilbert would always find his last reserve of strength and finish his training.

Pretty soon, the shy, scrawny nerd who had enlisted was well on his way to being a popular, beefy soldier. As with most men who have never worked out in their lives, Gilbert quickly began packing on muscle. The 160 pound weakling must have put on at least sixty pounds of muscle and it looked good on him. His frame filled out, his jaw became more chiseled, and at 6’5”, he was becoming quite the strapping lad. He even looked good in the black rimmed glasses he had been issued. He had always been singled out for his glasses as a youth but now, these were the same glasses the rest of the recruits wore. Gilbert was just one of the guys.

The sergeant always beamed with pride when Gilbert entered the mess hall with the other recruits. This once shy nerd had become a natural leader, laughing and rough-housing with the other men. Most shocking to Gilbert himself was discovering his own natural athletic skill. He was surprisingly adept at football, although Sergeant Kristof wasn’t surprised. The boy was always interested in tactics and now he had the physical prowess to follow through. The boy became obsessed with sports. During their weekly haircut sessions, the sergeant found himself laughing at how this boy who was once obsessed with Lord of the Rings now couldn’t stop talking about football, baseball, and hockey. Who could have guessed that this geek was always a jock deep down? He just needed a push.

“Thanks for the fresh shave, Sir!” said Gilbert with confidence. Even his voice seemed deeper. As he slipped his blackrimmed glasses back on his head and fastened the elastic strap that kept them in place, Gilbert smiled. “You really got my head smooth this time, Sir!”

“Happy to oblige, son.”

With the firmest handshake the sergeant had ever felt, Gilbert thanked him and headed out for a night of drinks with the rest of the recruits.

----

Gilbert graduated top of his class naturally. Sergeant Kristof knew he would excel at the tactical portions of boot camp but his heart swelled with pride when Gilbert placed top in the physical portions as well. Gone forever was this pathetic nerd, replaced instead with 250 pounds of pure American beef. He was going to be an excellent soldier.

That night, Gilbert came to the sergeant’s quarters for his haircut. The sergeant had been unable to squeeze him in for a few weeks and now the strapping young lad’s hair was more grown out than it had been since he started boot camp. Gilbert gave him a firm handshake and sat in the barber chair, handing the sergeant his glasses. The sergeant smiled proudly at what Gilbert had become, admiring his now 22” biceps and the new “Semper Fi” tattoo that adorned his left arm and the American flag tattoo on his right.

“Sir! I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I never could have imagined becoming who I am today and it is all because you believed in my. God bless you, God bless the USMC, and God bless the USA!”

“I always knew you had it in you, Gilbert.”

Gilbert laughed.

“You know, Sir, you almost always call me ‘son.’ Didn’t you know? I don’t go by Gilbert anymore. I just go by Gil.”

“I like that. Gil. It’s much tougher and more masculine.” The sergeant began clipping the soldier’s red hair.

“Exactly Sir,” laughed Gil.

“But if it’s all the same, I think I’ll stick to calling you ‘son.’”

Gil choked up for a moment. The Marines had made a hard man of him but it touched his heart to hear the man he respected most in this world call him ‘son.’

“Absolutely, Sir.”

The sergeant smiled. He grabbed a can of butch wax from the counter and began massaging it into the young Marine’s scalp.

“What are you doing, Sir?”

“I have a surprise for you, son,” he said. He grabbed his comb and blow dryer and styled everything to perfection. Once he was sure it was up to military standards, he handed Gil his blackrimmed glasses and watched as the young man strapped them back into place.

“A horseshoe flattop!” exclaimed Gil. “Just like yours!”

“Exactly like mine, except… well yours is red.”

Gil bolted up from the chair and examined himself in the mirror with glee. His hair was perfectly level, the extremely narrow shoe exactly the same height all over. Gil loved the way the straight line of the flat top accentuated the heavy glasses he wore. He tilted his head down and admired how even it was and how smooth the landing strip was. He grabbed the handheld mirror and checked out the back. The shoe was so high and tight that he looked totally bald from behind, only the thick elastic glasses strap showing against the smooth flesh. The haircut was so precise and perfect. Each nook and cranny of the Marine’s perfect skull was visible, as accentuated and perfect as his torso looked in the tight T-shirt he was wearing.

“Holy shit, Sir!”

“No cursing, son!”

“Sorry, Sir! It just looks so great.”

“You earned it, son. You’ve made me so proud.”

Gil’s eyes filled with tears as he searched the depths of his soul for what to say. He caught his reflection in the mirror and knew there was really only one response.

“Semper fi, Sir.”

“Semper fi, son.”

-----

Sergeant Kristof fanned himself in his Hummer. It was too hot a day for September but here he was, parked outside the local university’s engineering building. His superiors were so impressed with Gil that they had asked Sergeant Kristof to repeat his techniques. It wasn’t exactly challenging but when the military tells you do something, you say “Yes Sir!”

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the sergeant as something blocked the sun. He turned to the window and saw an absolute beast of a man standing there, his giant torso filling the entire window. The sergeant gasped before realizing who it was. Who else could it be? A strapping lad in formal USMC gear except for the hat. Upon the man’s head was a bright red horseshoe flat top.

“Jesus Christ, son, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry Sir, just thought you might like some coffee before we start the recruitment process.”

Sergeant Kristof snatched the coffee from Gil’s hand and took a sip. Blech, it was too hot for a day like this. Suddenly, the two strapping Marines noticed a young man trip and fall in the quad, spilling his books everywhere. The young man’s glasses flew from his head and he awkwardly fumbled to collect his beginnings. Sergeant Kristof and Gil both smiled.

“Target acquired, Sir.”

“Target acquired, son.”

#military #militarytransformation #gaytf #maletf #masculinization #alphamale

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possessmedude · 8 months

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Flubber Possession - Surrender

#male tf #flubber #flubberpossession #gay tf #malebodypossessionale #male transformation #malebodypossession #malepossession #Maletf #gaymalepossession

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mpreghotties · 7 months

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Man trapped in Jello

#male vore #gay vore #maletf #male transformation #jello

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chadwoodtales · 2 years

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#chadwoodtales Here’s a free sample of the #tf comics I’ve been making.

#chadwoodtales maletf tf anthro anthrotf gaytf foxtf furry

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weresasquatch · 2 years

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Werewolf tf (via Beastmodefeet)

#werewolf #maletf #maletransformation #bigfeet #bigfoot #hugefeet #largefeet #shoeburst #footgrowth

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bodybeyondstories · 8 months

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Just ignore it - 3

David realizes he may have overestimated his ability to handle the newly adopted deity in his head. In trying to figure out how to direct an unlimited supply of body transforming chaos magic, he discovers the power of words, leading to some interesting developments at the bar and in Lee's lab.

1 | 2 (Previous) | 4 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass growth // Dick growth // Growth // Suggestion // nsfw

---

A Tuesday night during Winter Break was not the liveliest time at our usual haunt, the Cockatrice, but Lee and I weren’t complaining. We could gossip and scheme in peace in our back corner booth, a spot we so consistently occupied that the bartender, Jaime, jokes that our butt prints are permanently in the seats–which, in light of recent events, is probably true. As Lee had pointed out to my chagrin, the hemispheres of my ass had successfully carved out a noticeable dip in the cushion that would set a normal man off balance. Yet another reason the back corner booth was consistently ours to occupy. With the semester having ended and most of our colleagues having fled town as soon as grades were submitted, it was especially sparse, except of course, for the new regular to our little booth chats, Blake.

I had given just the essential details to the class about the extra dimensional reality warper that was seemingly auditing for most of the term, winning their silence with automatic As, no term paper, and any reference or letter of rec for any reason. I made myself available as a resident expert if they wanted to learn more about this exciting new research opportunity tied to my being through the astral realm. And of course, if they needed guidance on any unintended side effects, from wardrobe malfunctions to unwanted attention. Noah, for one, had developed a similar level of insatiability as my own and was tearing through every available hung top in the city, but had also developed a knack for coming across progressively bigger and bigger dicks; a pattern that was verging on unrealistic. I made a note to investigate further, but encouraged him to just slow down before we had an epidemic of dicks just as unwieldy as my superhung fuckbuddy sitting across from me.

The rest of the semester was relatively uneventful after I explained the situation. I decided I might as well use it as a teaching tool, one of the more extreme examples of what one might encounter in this line of work. I didn’t name Logan, though, for the risk of him drawing the ire of his colleagues. However, after some initial discomfort and surprising ambivalence, they were mostly okay with the changes, even appreciative, though they may not admit it directly. But golden boy park ranger Blake was especially enthusiastic, not to mention deeply interested in all these magical happenings. To the point where his own disproportionately meaty butt was leaving its own comical imprint in the booth next to my own.

Blake became a fixture of our weeknight scene, eager for the latest updates from Lee’s lab, which had begun to research the power of my new mental roommate. Trying to understand the unfathomable deity living in my head was slow going, but I had figured out that while they don’t have a name for themself, or really a concept of naming that makes sense to us, they deigned to experiment with some sort of grammar of identification, a small part of which is interpretable in our dimension as Synt. Blake was usually in the field during the day, so would join us after hours to get caught up, even going so far as to jot down notes and ask questions we hadn’t even thought of. He was a de facto research assistant, and at the very least this whole ordeal had gotten someone actually interested in our little corner of the world. Apparently, he’d also been chatting with Logan about some mystical archival work (I really should pay more attention to what Logan actually does). But this evening he was getting excited about his own neck of woods (pun intended) with something brewing in a local forest reserve.

“It’s one of the old ones that got absorbed into the current system when they modernized it,” said Blake, leaning forward slightly with an air of playful conspiracy, his dense biceps straining against the cuffs of his sleeves. “Not entirely public property, but not really owned by anyone anymore either. We basically have de facto jurisdiction,” a phrase he pronounced with uncertainty, “over the Marshlands.”

I wasn’t familiar with this place–admittedly I didn’t get out enough–but I dissociated as a vague image popped up on my mental map of the region, carrying a resonance that felt like a string being plucked. As I sat with this, I was aware that Blake and Lee were carrying on a conversation without me but sound and light went slightly opaque as I tried to focus on this image of…a forest clearing? And some figures that looked suspiciously like–

“Palmer!” I was brought fully back to reality by a forceful slap on the shoulder from our park ranger friend sitting next to me. Blake quickly had an apologetic look on his face that said he hadn’t quite figured out his own strength.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Zoned out. What’d I miss? The forest?”

“Nah, we moved on to the BBL allegations,” said Lee, with a smirk.

“I’m just sayin’ my leg days are legendary these days,” said Blake, hands splayed in mock humility. “I don’t blame ‘em for thinking something’s up. You know it’s real because I keep maxing out machines at the gym and having to scrounge up more and more plates. It’s starting to draw attention,” he chuckled.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about the changes that Synt caused,” I offered, mentally putting on my researcher hat.

“Is still causing,” interjected Lee.

“Yes, still,” I said, suddenly feeling very self conscious. When I invited Synt to give Logan a break and join forces with me, I may have overestimated my ability to keep them reined in, and it was becoming a full time project just to keep their power from leaking out into this world at a reasonable trickle. Most of the time, I could relieve little bits of pressure here and there, resulting in acquaintances and strangers getting a little boost in passing; something to fill their pants a little more that they wouldn’t complain about. This got tricky when it comes to people I was not only intimate with, but vulnerable with. Hence why Lee’s lithe, muscular form not only filled the other side of the booth but looked downright ethereal. And yet another reason Blake enjoyed spending happy hours parked right next to me. He was, after all, enthusiastic about the situation.

“Not that I’m complaining,” said Blake. He leaned towards me slightly with a smile that was verging from friendly to flirtatious. “I look better than I ever have. Better than I thought was even possible, all thanks to our mutual friend.” He gave me (and Synt) a wink, allowing his ripped forearm to brush lightly against mine before pulling back at the static shock that visibly–and possibly audibly–jumped the centimeter between us.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no problem’,” he said, getting up and turning to the bar. “Y’all want anything?”

“I’m already at my limit,” I said, “but thanks.”

“Two-drink Tuesday,” added Lee, holding up his index and middle finger, as if that wasn’t something he had just made up. Nevertheless, I appreciated the support. Getting shlammered is no longer an option when you have immediate access to an unbelievable reservoir of chaos magic. Something Lee was constantly reminded of by the trouser snake bulging down the length of his left pant leg.

What didn’t help the situation was that Blake was really taking his time in getting to the bar, swishing his hips back and forth as he moseyed over to Jaime. The park ranger uniforms are a flattering, relaxed fit, but Blake was bursting out of his. The khakis were stretched tight across his bubble butt and quads and the button up couldn’t be buttoned all the way against the mass of his pecs and shoulders. He was a wall of dense muscle, body so sculpted from the realm of fantasy that it was almost a crime for him to even try to wear clothes in the first pl–

I knew what he was doing. He, obviously, knew what he was doing. And most importantly, the reality-altering minor god that had tied themself to me knew full well what he was doing.

We can’t keep doing this, I said to my mental roommate. He’s getting hooked.

Hooked? came a voice like tectonic plates sliding against each other.

Like, he’s enjoying these changes too much. He keeps trying to grow more and more, I worry he might go too far.

Too far? It had become clear that they had no conceptualization of what this meant, but they were starting to figure out what one might call moderation. I felt a small nudge of encouragement as if right behind my shoulder blades, but a small nudge from Synt was like a cruise ship lightly tapping against a wooden pier.

Okay, but just a little, I thought. It’s about finesse, just like we practiced.

Synt was a powerhouse to say the least, and I wasn’t so much tapping into their reservoir of chaos magic as I was slightly loosening a small pressure valve. My fingertips sparked lightly as I felt the peculiar taste of raw possibility in my mouth, like a battery on the back of my tongue that crackled down around my vocal chords. I was focusing on Blakes’s broad shoulders and muscular backside at the bar. His overdeveloped glutes defied gravity, perched like two globes above his hamstrings.

“Those could really do some damage,” I muttered under my breath. I imagined him at the gym, maxing out the machines as a warmup, having to stack weight after weight just to get a good pump. The blood rushing to his strained muscles as they repaired themselves supernaturally fast, swelling against the overstressed fabric until it couldn’t take anymore. At the bar, Blake was adjusting his waistband surreptitiously, his massive butt seeming to grow in real time to match my slapped together tipsy fantasy until finally his work pants began to give way, splitting open in a few spots to hint at a pair of bright green bikini briefs fighting for its life over his round cheeks. Much to his chagrin–but eventually to his delight–whoever he was chatting it up with failed to take notice of his sudden growth. His hand had left Blake’s hip to adjust his own crotch, which was displaying a surprising, and apparently uncomfortable, bulge.

I maybe shouldn't have done this two drinks in. I was going for more juicy pump and less wardrobe malfunction. And I didn’t even predict the spillover effect in this new beau who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I wasn’t being focused enough, maybe it was some sort of daisy chain from their erotic connection, maybe Blake was figuring out how to re-route the chaos magic with which I had touched him. But as he apparently took notice, he played it off, turning his fat ass to squish against the bar as he faced out, glancing my way with an appreciative wink.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” said Lee, an amused tone entering his voice. Lee had caught on to Blake’s little trick early on and found it more funny than concerning. “He pulled a fast one on you again!” he laughed.

“He’s kind of doing me a favor,” I reasoned. At least I had a willing participant to let some of the pressure off while honing this new ability. “But he could just ask me directly.”

“Well where’s the fun in that?” asked Lee, his eyes dreamily following Blake’s ass as his new friend let him into the cool winter evening, presumably to explore their respective new assets at one of their places. His eyes flicked back to me as he danced across the word fun, and I tried to evade losing myself in the chocolate brown depths of his irises, captivated by a gaze that had become hypnotic. I didn’t get very far as I began to trace the curvature of his plump lips, the rightmost third of the bottom one lost behind a row of playfully biting teeth.

This was a game we had begun to play and one I would inevitably lose. He knew what he was doing. He knew I knew that he knew what he was doing. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that a side effect of the changes in Lee was that he was beginning to have a draw on people that was hard to resist. It hadn’t taken Lee long to realize that whenever I released Synt’s erotic power into the world, I needed to in turn release my own. Hot and bothered would be an understatement, the recent double whammy in tandem with the pheromones coming from my friend across the booth were sending me into overdrive. And judging by the way Lee kept shifting in his seat, he was in a similar state of excitement.

Apparently Two-drink Tuesday also gets its name from the fact that we can’t make it to a third round without fucking each other’s brains out. Soon enough, I’m plopping my fat ass onto a table in a half forgotten supply closet that makes for a decent hookup space if you’re cool enough with Jaime. It was one of the plastic folding ones that are always already old and whose supports were groaning under my weight. The ambient light from the bar that made it down the hallway framed Lee’s expansive form as he lumbered in behind me, round shoulders rising just past the level of the door frame as he ducked in. God he was massive. As he pushed the door closed behind him, sliding us into complete darkness, I could still feel his outline moving toward me, as if he produced his own luminescence just outside of the visible spectrum.

The bass of his voice filled the room as he chuckled, coming in for a deep kiss and sliding his fingers under the waistband of my leggings as our tongues danced. He was hungry. He pushed me back onto the table as he pulled my thighs toward him. The radiant heat coming off of his crotch became all the more enticing in the chill of the back room, tingles of pleasure echoing from my hole in anticipation. I arched my back as his fingers from one hand traced along my spine, the other tenderly beginning to peel the waistband of my leggings down the curves of my hips. His hands, at this point, were the size of dinner plates but moved with surprising grace. I could feel him resisting the urge to tear the fabric clean off as he struggled to get it over my colossal cakes and tree trunk thighs. A performance of agonizing slowness that had become part of our usual foreplay.

With my hole finally exposed, he slid in one finger, then two, opting for nimbleness and dexterity in light of the brute force that I knew was coming. He worked with a light touch, loosening me up as he undid his pants and slowly slid them off, bending slightly to finagle his prodigious cock free. I regretted not having hit the lights. The slow reveal of his member was a sight to behold, even in the weak fluorescence of the store room. With a grunt, I heard his pants fall to the floor, followed by a thwack against the underside of the cheap plastic table. I briefly fantasized about Lee’s gargantuan cock lifting the entire table with me on it, entertaining the notion that I really could make that happen if I wanted to.

Don’t you? Came a deep rumble from my psyche, the familiar crescendo of energy as Synt’s attention was piqued.

Don’t you start, I warned, still thinking of Blake and his now very well endowed friend. Finesse, subtlety, I added, knowing full well Synt cared nothing for the concept.

But didn’t I? In the haze of lust, I couldn’t shake the hypothetical of Lee with a truly impossible monster cock, and a corresponding body that shattered doorways rather than ducking through them. Was it Synt’s idea or my own? Was there a difference?

I was brought back to the present by a sudden absence. My hole ached with need as Lee’s meaty fingers were withdrawn, moving to caress my torso as he maneuvered his unwieldy dick into place, stroking up and down he pumped out a steady stream of slick precum. He was already starting to moan softly as he slowly worked inch after inch after inch of his schlong inside of me. Ever the scientist, he had last measured his growth at 15.25 inches, but personal experience told me it had definitely grown a little more since then. He settled into a steady pace, holding my body gingerly with his strong arms, leaning in periodically to nuzzle against my lips.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Harder,” I muttered, the pleasure from his cock stretching my walls only leading to a deeper and deeper need.

“Like this?” he said, picking up the pace, letting more of his strength come through as he thrust into me.

“Harder,” I breathed, feeling the familiar taste of power, the crackle across my throat.

“Mmhm,” said Lee, audibly putting in some effort as he pounded into me, his gigantic hands digging into the globes of my ass cheeks, giving them a hard slap periodically.

“Harder,” I grunted, feeling some sort of release as I had the acute image of Lee’s pelvis corded with muscle, his hips and glutes flexing with vascularity as he pumped with inhuman power.

He made a sound that was some cross between confusion and pleasure, losing control as he jackhammered into me with animalistic lust. He dug his hands in under my thighs and lifted me up bodily, impaling me on his dick as his hips went into overdrive. He roared as both of us reached climax, shooting ropes of cum as his hips continued to buck involuntarily. After the last shudders of orgasmic release, he slowly came back to his senses, pulling his softening dick out of my hole.

“Was that…you?” he asked, his hands exploring a slightly more developed muscularity than what had been the reality earlier that night.

“...I think so.”

—

I found myself in Lee’s lab early the next morning reflecting on what exactly had developed last night. Of course I was used to dipping into Synt’s power to change people, but this was different. More direct in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Lee was bouncing around with some extra pep in his step, his usual lumbering movements now imbued with much more grace and poise. One would find it hard to believe that just 12 hours previous he was rearranging my guts with wild abandon. His bubble butt filled out his form fitting khakis, glute and hip muscles becoming all the more apparent every time he squatted down to look at something more closely with his co-PI, Armand. At 5’6”, Armand was almost two feet shorter than the literal giant with whom he ran the paranormal research lab in the basement of the Center. I sat patiently, coffee in hand, watching them navigate the space and prep things for that morning’s procedures.

Lee and Armand had taken it upon themselves to help me study how Synt’s power worked and what kinds of research implications it might have. Lee was wildly enthusiastic about the possibilities presented by the deity in my head whose capabilities were seemingly only limited by the imagination of the host. Armand, if a little annoyed by being there earlier than the start of their usual workday, was more interested in how this development, if presented the right way, could secure some more reliable long-term research funding for the entire institute.

After all, the lab could use a makeover. It was kind of a drab, slapdash mix of alchemical and traditional scientific instruments, slowly cluttering into a maze of in-progress and semi-forgotten projects and experiments. One wall was an entire blackboard covered in a collage of equations, mathematical proofs, ancient grammars, bits of poetry, and a running list of takeout places that after many late night deliveries knew Lee and Armand by name. It at least drew the eye away from the rest of the color scheme, which consisted of specific shades of blue and sherbet-beige that one might see at a hospital or some sort of mystical DMV. But it was Lee’s high voltage magic lab. A cleanroom as he calls it.

I was crammed into an office chair at the center of a circle whose circumference featured sigils across multiple human and inhuman languages, each one glowing and fading lightly in slow sequence. I know a protective ward when I see one, and this formed an invisible, magically impermeable sphere. I sat in the middle of the snow globe, wondering what might get knocked loose were someone to come along and shake it, as Lee and Armand set about their final preparatory tasks. Lee was adjusting the angles of what looked like modified environmental sensors, following the wires back to his desktop to check that they were working. A cluster of wires ran not along the floor, but up to the ceiling and above the circle, dropping down and hooking into a brain scan helmet that sat lightly on my head. Armand was fiddling with what was certainly a decades-old fax machine, outputting a slow but continuous stream of paper while chittering softly to itself and occasionally jotting down little dots and symbols. According to Armand, it’s a device that “picks up magical grammars in ambient space and translates them into textual data for further analysis,” but I still think it just looks like a fax machine. He was not amused by this.

Our routine many mornings was me in the evil snow globe, relaying messages between Lee, Armand, and Synt as they tried to experiment with ways to activate, measure, or at least gather data on the texture of Synt’s magic. Bursts of erotic, body morphing energy were beyond impressive, but wildly unpredictable, and the research team wanted to start small and controlled. We had made little to no progress. It’s not exactly a thing that I can just turn on and off and Synt doesn’t particularly care or even see the point of all this. These little science experiments are a blip on their radar and we probably seem like anxious primates hitting things with sticks. Which to a certain extent is true.

This morning was no different than the others. After enough failed attempts and false positives, Lee sighed, shaking his head at the monitor perched on his modified standing desk.

“I need some caffeine,” he yawned, loping off toward the exit and, I assumed, the coffee shop on the ground floor upstairs.

I was left with Armand, standing hands on hips, staring intently at his fax machine as if, with enough silent pleading, it may just start speaking English. It continued its indecipherable chittering, spitting out snippets of static on the page.

“Did you get a fax?” I asked. “From the cosmos?” widening my eyes for emphasis.

“It’s not–we’re getting basically background radiation and ambient noise. Nothing that really tells us anything,” he said, turning to glance at Lee’s computer. Armand awkwardly adjusted his lab partner’s standing desk, waiting impatiently for it to lower to his height. Eventually, he relented and grabbed a step stool just so he could read the data, shooting me an annoyed glance at having to have an audience for what seemed like a daily ordeal between them.

“So you didn’t feel anything this whole session? No surges of otherworldly power?” he asked.

“I felt hungry,” I responded. “Haven’t heard much from Synt.”

“But Lee said yesterday evening you did it without even trying,” said Armand, scratching the scruff on his chin in thought.

My heart skipped a beat as I imagined Lee informing Armand about how he got his new power thrust pelvis as if it were anecdotal data, before I realized, “Oh, you mean Blake!”

“Yeah, that was his name. The park ranger guy. He’s been emailing me about some abandoned site out in the forest, I need to look into it. But you changed him just by what? Thinking about it?”

“Thinking isn’t really an apt descriptor of what Synt does,” I thought out loud. Armand had settled into a flat footed squat in front of the cosmic fax machine, on the edge of the ring of sigils. He was staring not quite at me, but at the space around me, as if Synt might materialize from my aura. “Sometimes it feels like the way their mind works is itself a sort of manipulation of space and time. Maybe the way all of our minds work, when you think about it.” The fax sputtered something out, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or dissension. Armand’s eyes glanced at the printout then back at me.

“But you channeled that manipulation deliberately, right? Not just specifically to Blake, but specifically to his glutes.”

“Not just that, but yeah. I sort of focused the energy and…released.”

“And what did that feel like?”

“Like…singing?” The familiar feeling danced around my vocal chords. Synt perked up in anticipation.

“Singing. Ok.” Armand began to bounce slightly in his deep squat, which I’d come to realize meant he was on to something. As he mulled over this new bit of information, his eyes traced one of the sigils on the floor. Mine, however, were locked on to the bulge made more prominent by his stance. I could always tell Armand was packing something, and under ‘normal’ circumstances his bulge would be the focus of anyone’s attention, but it was an afterthought with Lee carrying around an unmistakable pipe in his pants.

“Have you done any work on metaphysical harmonics?” he asked.

“I’ve taught the basics, but it’s not something I deal with a lot in my research,” I said. “Bouncing different planes and dimensions off of each other by fiddling with the right frequencies and resonances, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have to dust it off, but I think we do have the equipment for it,” said Armand. “Maybe instead of brute force reality shifting, Synt is actually doing something much more subtle and graceful, like moving through the pages of a higher dimensional flipbook. Which would explain why Lee, for one, is so good at carrying such big…changes.”

I don’t know why I said what I said next. I had that taste of possibility on my tongue and you know who was pushing at the back of my consciousness, dangling a small invitation to play with the warp of the universe, compelling me to blurt out “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got him beat.” With a wink no less.

A few things happened. One, I did manage to catch the feeling of that spark of power in my throat being released in a very specific direction, straight to the crotch which I had been trying to not look at in my early morning haze. Two, the fax machine printed out what looked like a poem of some mix of text, symbols, and glyphs before proceeding to rewind the spool of paper on its own and carry on printing blanks like nothing happened.

And three, while Armand was watching his precious sensor apparatus misbehave yet again, the bulge in his slacks began to bulge even more. Like, really bulge, unspooling down his leg. To the naked eye, it looked like he was somehow oblivious to the fact that his dick was expanding in real time to over twice the amount of space it had just been taking up in his chinos, the mushroom head becoming distinct against the fabric and his balls alone putting catastrophic pressure on the stitching along the seam. Except, if one would look closer–though that would be rude–they might notice the seam continuously adjusting on its own.

I watched his package inflate as he seemingly didn’t register the changes at all. But through the other sight of Synt’s perspective, it was as if the area around his crotch, and to a lesser extent the area around his body was pixelating, shifting, and falling back into place piece by piece over and over again, resulting in a visibly larger and larger bulge until…what?

You’ve got him beat, said Synt, quoting my earlier comment with what felt like a sly smile. I had been through enough by now to know that the next move was not to investigate the prodigious member in front of me but instead reflect on the timeline–New? Altered? Unclear–that I now found myself in.

“I guess you’re right,” said Armand, “but Lee still wears it better.”

I guess I had gotten relatively used to it because we were co-workers, but Armand has by far one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. Not that I had ever actually seen it, but the bulge snaking down his leg was obscene on his small frame. Even with what I assume were tailored pants, it was unavoidable and unwieldy, drawing stares and even comments in public, much to introverted Armand’s annoyance. I kind of felt bad for the guy. Rumor has it that when fully erect it’s a whopping 16 inches, somehow just slightly bigger than Lee’s schlong, which though impossible to miss, still blended in better on a frame that was two feet taller.

If what Armand had surmised was true, and Synt had let their hands play across a multidimensional keyboard, then we had been moving through proximal dimensions in which Armand wasn’t actually growing, but simply had a bigger and bigger dick for whatever reason, following the path of least resistance until he arrived at a size that beat Lee’s, and my offhand comment proved true. I loosely wondered when Noah would get his hands on him, if he hadn’t already.

Armand rose out of his squat to head to the board and add the metaphysical harmonics angle to the parking lot of working hypotheses. His gait was wider and a little awkward, but he wasn’t adjusting to his new size so much as he had already been used to it for years. Had I progressed to what Synt had been doing in my class this past semester? Moving beyond brute force changes and reworking the time stream itself? What else had I inadvertently changed about Armand’s life? What other elements of his social, romantic, or work lives had been altered in unpredictable ways by his inexplicably massive cock?

I needed more caffeine. As Lee came strolling back into the lab, I rushed past him, bounding up the side stairwell to the ground floor and the conveniently placed coffee shop. This wasn’t the most high traffic part of campus, so even during the morning rush, the baristas were bleary eyed and underwhelmed, snapping awake as I lumbered up to the counter.

“Oh, hi, what can I, uh, get started for you?” asked a barista across the counter who was not one of the usuals, made obvious by the fact that he clearly did not expect to be staring up at a man in leggings and a plaid skirt who loomed a full head taller than him.

“Just a dirty chai, and can you throw in an extra espresso shot…Jamal?” I asked, leaning awkwardly to read his nametag.

“Gotcha!”

I still felt disoriented, standing in a sleepy coffee shop having just manipulated space and time through the power of horniness. We may have finally cracked the code for at least a piece of the mechanism of what Logan had been doing originally on accident. The implications were staggering for our understandings of physics, metaphysics, reality itself. I had no idea how far the possibilities went and it sent a chill down to spine to think of what could happen on accident, let alone on purpose, but to be honest I felt powerful. And incredibly horny.

The familiar aftershock of arousal finally hit me, a deep, tingly, insatiable hunger that I quickly realized I would need to find some way to take care of this morning. Lee was right downstairs and this wouldn’t be the first time we fucked in some back corner of the basement. I wondered if Armand might want to prove the rumors true and hit a spot even his lab partner couldn’t reach. I shivered at the thought of almost a foot and a half of rock hard cock jutting off his slim, twinkish body, a completely absurd image of it bobbed in the air as he walked towards me.

“Um, excuse me?” Jamal, with an intonation that implied that hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to get my attention in the past 30 seconds, and he didn’t much care but a line was starting to form. “Can I get a name for that?”

“Oh! Um, sorry. David,” I said. “The only giant in the coffee shop. Can’t miss me,” I added with an awkward laugh.

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised. There was just a guy in here who had to be like seven and a half feet, I don’t even know. Like freak show tall,” eyes widened and hands splayed out.

“Not nearly as tall as you, right?” I responded without missing a beat. “You’ve got what, a foot and a half on him?”

In my defense I was horny. And in an experimental mood. And a little annoyed at the quip about my friend. And in retrospect, starting to get drunk on power.

But Synt got the message loud and clear, and I watched the fabric of spacetime pixelating and refocusing around Jamal as I craned my neck up and up and up to his wire rimmed glasses catching the reflection of mid morning light.

A blush across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, with a slight smile and a roll of his eyes. “That chai will be right up.”

#male tf #ass growth #butt growth #dick growth #growth

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