“Alright dude, welcome to the Amalia Aquatics Center. We have been looking for more surf instructors and you are the man for the job. The name’s Kellan and I’ll be your boss.”
You look at the tall surfer guessing he had to be about 6′7″, almost a foot taller than you. His muscles are lean and his skin is tan. He looks like a stereotypical, but tall and slightly more built, surfer. He even spoke like one. Hardly the professional you were expecting from what you saw at the front desk.
“I’m just here to help you get used to your job. I’m sure it won’t take long for you to fit in, brah.” He chuckled, “Now why are you wearing a shirt?”
You look down, a little embarrassed for even trying this. You look back up at Kellan and he his simply looking back at you with a smirk on his face. Your eyes look down at the beginnings of moobs and gut pushing at your shirt.
“You want to be a surfer or what?”
You grip the hem of your shirt in frustration. Struggling to pull it off, you finally do, red in the face. Kellan is just chuckling, “See that wasn’t so hard.”
A blush fills your cheeks again. You look down at your lean, tanned torso wondering why you wouldn’t want your shirt off. You love going shirtless.
“And we like our surfers to be blonde. Longer hair is preferred.”
You run a hand through your hair, remembering you got it died a few weeks ago.
“Oh and the clients usually like a big cock. From your swimsuit I see no problem there.”
You smirk, thinking of the 7-inch soft torpedo in your swimsuit.
“And our surfers always love getting fucked as a tip instead of cash.”
Your ass suddenly feels very hungry and your cock grows to a full 9 inches at the idea at your prospects for sex. Not that your brain even knows what a word like “prospects” means anymore.
“So dude I think your ready to start.”
You smile dumbly, not even realizing you had changed, “Awesome dude.”
I’m still alive but stories are stopping for a while, my summer class is much more time consuming then I would have thought so I can’t spend much time writing, I will still repost stories I find but my writing is either gonna slow down or be nonexistent for now.
Starting work on it right now, hopefully gonna be up in a few days
Dan was scrolling through a dating app one day trying to find a hook up. He was gay and meeting people through friends or just in regular life like school or work wasn’t going to happen. At one point he found the profile of this one bearish guy named Ted on the site, who seemed his type. Dan was small and twinkish and although he just liked guys without much preference, he did like bear types, if only for a hook up. They worked out when and where to meet and Dan got ready and headed out. Once he got there Ted went straight into foreplay, insisting that Dan wear one of his large and smelly red plaid shirts. They began some role play where Ted was the dom (obviously), calling Dan things such as “big cub” and “fat lumberjack” which was odd considering Dan was a small weakling.
Suddenly though Dan began to feel a strong and strange rumbling in his stomach as it suddenly expanded outwards quickly growing into a gut but underneath he felt muscles firming up, just layer after layer of fat blocked them from view, however that didn’t make them useless to him. His small skinny chest grew into a pair of strong pecs before quickly sagging into a slight pair of moobs. His chest grew itchy as dark, dense bearish hair grew all over his chest and belly. His expanding chest popping open the buttons of the large plaid shirt. The more open the shirt got the better he felt as he was less and less itchy once there was less and less material rubbing up against his chest. The mixture of fat and muscles spread to his arms. Though they had more muscle then fat as his biceps puffed out and memories of swinging an axe and cutting wood out in nature passed through his mind. Dan was confused and eventually had to roll up the sleeves of the plaid shirt which now fit perfectly, maybe was even a little small, when his arms get intensely itchy as dark thick hair quickly covered them. His hands cracked and expanded into rather big manly hands with some calluses on them from his hard work. A rather colorful tattoo began drawing itself on his one forearm. His jeans grew tight when his ass started to fill up with fat and muscle and the same happened to his legs, strong enough to support his axe swinging but also expanded enough that he’d have to spread them so they didn’t rub together all the time. Thick hair also took root on his legs and his feet grew bigger and wider to support his new strength and weight. His sneakers ripping open as his feet grew to a size 12, only briefly exposing his larger feet for only a few seconds until the torn remains of his sneakers reformed into a dirty pair of size 12 boots. Finally his face started to push out with fat and grew itchy as a thick beard grew and spread and he found he actually liked it.
The whole time Ted was rubbing the changing mans chest and stomach complimenting him for being “such a good, big cub” while the changes themselves didn’t even seem to phase him as if this were normal. Once Dan’s hair grew thicker and turned a darker brown he felt the changes take root in his mind.
He was still gay, and definitely still a sub, but suddenly he felt more manly. His thoughts changed. Thoughts of being neat and clean were replaced with getting sweaty and dirty on the job, out working on cutting trees. His fashion tastes changed for sort of preppy semi formal preppy clothes to jeans and plaid, or sleeveless shirts. His interests changed from college to sports, drinking, and trucks, man stuff! His mind was also proud of being gay, instead of hiding it on his dating hook up apps he’d be dressed up in gear publicly at clubs. Plus now he had his big strong papa bear, so why would he be afraid of anyone judging? Papa bear would just kick their ass if anyone tried to say or do anything rude to him. Danny knew his place now as a big strong cub for his big bear. He laid down on the couch and spread himself out before getting ready to be fucked “ready for Papa bear, big cub?” The man asked as Danny could do nothing but grin.
“This your first day in Texas?” The man behind the counter asks.
You grumble. Not only is it your first day, but it might be your last. You’ve only been on the ground two hours, and already your cell phone is dead, your driver neglected to show up at the airport, and now they can’t find you luggage.
Typical, you think to yourself, these southern pricks don’t know what the hell they’re doing. But if they don’t find your baggage soon, they’re going to be sabotaging more than your night. After all, there are some important materials in that bag necessary for your promotional meeting tomorrow, or as you see it, the whole reason you came to this hell hole in the first place.
That’s when you see it, like a small black beetle crawling on the corner of your vision: your bag. Alone on an empty, spinning carousel, almost as if someone intentionally placed it there…
You don’t even think to alert the man behind the counter, who’s still on his computer probably doing something else. You quickly rush forward, grab the bag, and head out to the street to hail a cab. You can cover the cost later, you tell yourself. Right now, there’s one priority and one priority only: getting the hell out of there.
Back at the hotel, you flop your bag onto the bed and immediately head for the closest outlet. You plug your dead phone in. Nothing. Shit. You keep trying, but whether its the outlet or the phone, you know something isn’t working.
You walk back towards the bed. Perhaps you packed a spare charging cable in your bag, you try and convince yourself as you unzip the front. You flip open the bag, and your heart stops.
This isn’t your bag. At least, you don’t remember packing a mouth guard, shoulder pads, and a cropped t-shirt with a Texans logo on it.
Your brain goes into panic mode. You dive for your cell phone, only to find out the dead black screen hasn’t changed at all. The land line? But you don’t know the airport’s phone number. Worst of all, you’re starting to feel queazy, and not because of those pretzels you had on the plane.
Suddenly, your phone “dings.” Finally. You pick it up to see several text messages from people you don’t recognize.
Coach Bill says: Where the hell are you? Game is tomorrow night.
Someone named Kealia with a heart emoji next to her name says: Sweetheart, you feeling okay?
Who are these people? You ask yourself. But just as you do, your queasiness goes from bad to worst. You run to the bathroom, thinking you’re going to throw up, but instead, the nausea just turns to soreness. And not just in your stomach; in your whole body.
You groan. Bones creak and crack as you glance up at yourself in the mirror. Your thinning hair, your acne scars, and your pathetic frame of a body. This isn’t exactly how you thought things would turn out, and you aren’t just talking about this disastrous night.
But what’s that? It can’t be. You lean in closer to see if your eyes are just playing tricks on you. They’re not; your hair really is turning blonde. Even more than that, it’s coming in thick, and starting to dot your previously clean shaven face.
“What the h—“
But you keel over again. Something is going on under your shirt. You can feel your skin bubbling and your muscles exploding like someone poured acid all over your chest. You tear off your tie, your jacket, and finally your shirt, expecting to find a mess of charred skin underneath.
Instead, you find the chest of a god. Colossal pectorals, six bricks of abs, two hard lines leading down to your crotch. You gasp. This is not your body. What the hell is happening to me??
The feeling spreads up your arms. You watch in astonishment as your biceps bubble and bloat in an almost cartoonish fashion, the muscle jiggling before it hardens as solid meat. Your forearms harden as well, and you feel callous begin to grow on your fingertips. Impossible. You haven’t done anything physical since 9th grade PE. But these are the hands of a pro football player.
You barely even notice your ass stuff itself with muscle, or thighs harden and grow, or your calves inflate like two large apples on the back of your legs. But you do notice as your feet explode through your brand new shoes, two large clompers dusted in the same shade of dirty blonde hair. There’s a loud rip as your pants can no longer hold the sheer volume of leg muscle now staring to solidify and mature.
Back up in the mirror, you look over your ever expanding body. You’re at least a half foot taller now, breathing heavily through your obscenely large chest as the features on your face start to shrink.
You rush to the telephone. The hotel telephone, and call 911. An operator picks up immediately. “911, how can I assist you?” the calm female voice on the other line says.
“Yes! I’m at the— the Four Seasons and I’m… something’s happening to—“
You can feel the timbre of your voice chancing. It’s becoming deeper with every word, more stupid. More hard.
“May I ask who I’m speaking to?” The lady says.
“My name… name is… JJ— UGH!”
You drop the phone. You fall back onto the bed as you feel all the energy and heat rush towards your pelvic region, specifically towards your cock. You tear off the tattered remains of your pants to see that your penis, previously a measly five and a half inches, is now encroaching on what looks like ten.
Higher and higher, it rises up above your sweaty, muscle body. Your balls balloon out as they churn out manly fluids that pump themselves throughout your veins. You vision blurs, you start to loose your grip on the space inside your head. Of the little things, like your meeting, your flight, your life back home. Your own name.
“GAAAAAAGHHHHH!” You bellow loud enough for the people in the next room to hear. You surrender to the pleasure as your cock erupts with milky white spunk. It shoots as high as the ceiling, falling hard and hot on your thick, muscular body. It continues to flow like a broken water mane as you loose consciousness, falling back into a deep and empty slumber.
“JJ? JJ can you hear me? JJ??”
You jolt awake. “Where the hell am I?” You ask as you rub your eyes. “Why the hell am I naked?”
The man above you laughs. “Hell if I know, son. I’m just happy we found you in time.” You smile, as you recognize the man as your coach, your mentor. Next to him is someone from the hotel, your publicist, and you girlfriend.
She smiles. “You sure you don’t remember anything that happened to you? They found you in an awful mess. They say you even called the cops!”
“Well,” you say as you get up, “must not have remembered what happened. Whatever it was thought made me very sore.”
“We’ve got physical therapists for that,” coach says, “now come on, we’ve got a game in less than 48 hours. Put some clothes on and we’ll meet in the lobby.”
Your girlfriend gives you a kiss as they all give you some privacy. You exhale deeply. Everything up there is still a little bit foggy. Like your memories of growing up in Wisconsin, being drafted to the NFL, and meeting the girl of your dreams, are all mixed up with someone else’s lame life.
But it doesn’t matter. Your football superstar JJ Watt, and you’ve got a big game coming up. You delve into your suitcase and put on some well fitting briefs, jeans, skinners, and finally your favorite cropped Texans t-shirt. It falls comfortably over your hot, huge linebacker body, immediately growing heavy with your sweat and cum.
“Gotta love Texas,” you say with a dopey smile, and head out the door.
The lumberjack bear is giving me a bit of trouble so it’s gonna take longer but to the anon who requested it: I’m working on it and hopefully should have it in a few days thanks for your patients
Not my usual but I’ll give it a try. Hopefully I’ll get this done tomorrow, if not the day after for sure. There aren’t a whole lot of details here though so I’m gonna just run with the idea, hope you like what I come up with!
Tyler was always frustrated with his dormmate, Josh. Josh had everything he wanted, height, looks and a phone that never stopped ringing. Tyler was just a regular college freshman, average looks, average height and a phone that rarely rang. Josh was always out on some hot date probably banging all the girls that avoided Tyler and when he was home all he did was take shirtless selfies. One night Josh left, forgetting his phone. Tyler couldn’t help but feel smug, hearing the phone buzz and buzz and knowing Josh was missing texts, probably from all his girlfriends. The temptation clawed at him for an hour or so and finally he reached over and picked up the phone. To his shock, Josh had been recieving pics of half naked guys! “So he’s gay, no wonder hes always shirtless around me…does he wanna fuck me or something? Thinks being shirtless will win me over or something?” Tyler wondered to himself. As he thought about what he could do with this info he suddenly found his body moving on its own.
His hands were removing his shirt and his legs carried him to the mirror where he posed with the same cocky smile as Josh and took pictures, sending them to all the contacts. As each message sent a wave of electricity shot from the phone across his body. His hands flexed painfully growing bigger and bigger as his fingers grew longer and easily covered the entire phone! Tyler could only gasp and moan in pleasure and pain as he heard and felt all his bones cracking and expanding. His arms started growing longer and longer, looking ridiculous on his disproportionally small body. They filled with smooth toned muscles and a sexy tan. His chest expanded into an attractive set of pecs and perfectly sized nipples while his spine continued to stretch until he filled the door frame with his hot body. Tylers feet burst through his socks and his toes lengthened to balance out his giant stature and his legs became long and powerful with only the slightest dusting of hair over the tight muscles. The changing teen started to moan louder as the phone blew up with texts telling him how hot he was and begging him for more, each text sending more messages to his brain and more hormones through his body making him gayer, cuter and cockier.
Soon he was posing and flexing and snapping more pics. His face softening into Joshs innocent but mischievous one and cute dirty blonde hair. When he couldn’t resist any more he pulled down his way too small shorts to reveal his newly enlarged dick which stood rockhard from the attention and made a few more choice pictures for his fans as he debated which one of his call boys to fuck tonight. His mind shifting and adjusting as Tyler’s mind gave way to a copy of Josh’s dumb, cocky, horny, gay mind and reality itself shifted around him. Yeah, it was hard being Josh, the cutest freshman in his class. So many adoring fans to choose from. He knew that stuck up roommate of his wanted this too, maybe if he showed this sexy chest off for him enough he’d finally loosen up and admit he wanted some too.
Chris was somewhat of a nerdy guy, small, weak, pale, hated being outside or doing anything active. He was currently in a graduate program for chemistry. One day he woke up same as always and got ready for class but when he went into his closet all his shoes were gone. Replaced with one pair of size 13 soccer cleats, far to big for his average sized 7 feet. But he couldn’t go to class with no shoes on so against his better judgement he tried to fit the big shoes on his feet as best he could and was about to leave when suddenly he felt strange.
It started with a numbing, pins and needles feeling in his feet as they suddenly exploded in size growing and stretching to fill the cleats until in just a few minutes they fit perfectly. The feeling spread up his legs as they grew bigger with muscle and started to stretch, getting longer and taller as a tan started to spread. His socks started to grow longer and crawl up his legs while his khakis changed length and material, turning red and shrinking into a pair of shorts. The numb tingly feeling left his feet and legs and moved to his chest where a pair of pecs swelled and his stomach fat shrunk away to give way to a flat stomach. His spine expanding and growing also adding to the new height his legs just gave him. The tan also spread through his chest and arms as they also grew some muscle but most of his strength was in his core and legs from running and kicking and balancing himself in soccer…Wait in soccer? That made no sense didn’t he hate sports? No way why the fuck did he think that, soccer was his life! The changes started spreading to his head as his face rearranged, becoming handsomer and more manly. His hair became shorter as his skull got harder and tougher from hitting the soccer ball with his head more then a few times. His brain physically shrinking as it drained of all his graduate work and he started to get younger, until he was 20 years old.
He forgot a ton of information from college and high school but new memories took their place. He was a soccer star back in high school and earned a full ride sports scholarship for college. His major was sports science since it was easy enough and the only thing that really applied to what he was doing. His dressy button up shirt softened and morphed into a plain white t-shirt.
Finally the tingling feeling died down and his apartment morphed around him into a college dorm. Shit he was gonna be late! He headed down to the field for soccer practice. After several long hours of practice he got changed in the locker room and changed out of his now smelly cleats. Later in the day when he went to a class something came over him and on autopilot he took the cleats out of his backpack and into the backpack of the math nerd sitting in front him, something about the guy seemed familiar, did they used to be friends? Impossible but somehow, almost by instinct he knew by tomorrow he’d have a new best bud at practice…
Looking for a good picture for it now should be up later today or tomorrow. Again sorry it took so long I’m playing catch up.
Ok update: it’s finished but I wanna proofread it before I post it, I’m getting a little foggy between writing and it being late here so it will be up tomorrow morning.
Muscle Tf Lover 