Professor Davies was one of the most renowned minds of his time, from valedictorian to successful author, he moved around from campus to campus, college to college, in order to share his knowledge with young and hopeful minds. Most of the time this worked, sometimes he got people like Bryce, Bryce was the most popular kid on campus, and also a notable disruption or absence from most of his lectures.
The jock with his gang of guys simply mentioned how he “didn’t care” about Professor Davies and apparently couldn’t wait for him to go back to Harvard at the end of the term. It was the final day when Professor Davies felt himself take a deep breath and walk into the lecture hall, the speech was going to be optional regardless but he just wanted to send his students a clear goodbye, and he was surprised to see a cluster of blue outfitted muscular men spread around the hall, Bryce and the others had decided to attend.
“Good morning class,” smiled Professor Davies as he took a sip from a cup of coffee he had made in the staff room just close by, the taste was bitter, more bitter than it should’ve been and he resisted the urge to flinch at the taste as his smile grew wider. “Today as you all understand, I will be leaving, many of you have been a great asset to this class with your honest tho-”
The professor flinched, blinking as his voice died down, some of the students blinking as Bryce only smiled. Why couldn’t he say it? What word was he thinking of again? His mind slurred for a moment as the Professor looked down. He realised he was gaining weight, but not this much, not so much he started to feel tight in his clothing and even gasped as he felt his boxers filling out as if his cock was growing more erect. He slowly walked behind his desk and chair, gripping it tight. “T-Thoughts! Sorry my brain isn’t on today.” The Professor laughed exchanging some smiles among the crowd, as he started to glance around. His vision almost seemed to start to blur, odd as he was sure he had his contact lenses on.
“Anyway…your th-thoughts have been a great assi- assi- help to this term and I apprec- like it,” Professor Davies felt dazed and confused, almost mumbling some of his words as he felt as if his vocabulary was starting to shrink, just like his clothing.
Even now as he felt a small tear at his chest, revealing a small slither of his muscle, his sudden bulging pec. Fuck yeah! He wanted to flex it! But he stopped himself, looking up at the class as he could see some worried frowns, even now as one of his buttons popped and started to give way to his chest hair, that slowly started to look more brown and full than grey. “If you excuse me, cl-ass.”
Professor Davies started to quickly walk away, rubbing his brow as an intoxicating scent started to fill the room, and one glance at Bryce he walked by, he could see the smirk and now that somehow, it was coming from him, him and the other jocks around that glanced down, smiling back at him.
In the bathroom he quickly closed the door behind him, glancing at the mirror as he started to tear his shirt down slightly to get a better look, his growing hands tore through the shirt, letting buttons scatter to the floor and reveal his sweaty body, his pecs growing finer and larger with every moment and he loved it. He wanted to lick them, grope, them, he almost started flexing them in the mirror.
No!
He had to pay attention, focus, his breathing grew heavy and laboured as he felt both hands clutching the sink, just as more of his shirt tore away, the sleeves gave way for his biceps, throbbing like a heartbeat. They continued to grow in mass and muscularity, watching ridges start to appear in the biceps as he looked at them, almost bordering on flexing as he watched the ridges grow whenever he moved his arms. His entire upper torso was different, brown hair replacing the grey hairs on his chest as his abs pushed out further and further, popping into existence one by one as he saw that he hadn’t been growing fatter, he had been gaining muscle, his body growing thicker.
It was when the doors swung open behind him, that Professor Davies spun on his heel to see Bryce, smiling and still in his letter jacket as he glanced the professor up and down.
“Are you okay, professor?” asked Bryce, not even pretending to be shocked at all by what was going on, but instead Professor Davies could sense a hint of arousal, and sniffing the air he could tell where the musk was coming from, making him sweat more and for his cock to press up against his pants.
“Yes, B-Bryce I’m fine, just go back to class please,” stuttered Professor Davies, even now in his dumbing mind, he could feel that Bryce knew something, watching in the mirror as he saw his wrinkles start to disappear, Bryce was in the back smiling.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that…sir,” Bryce warned.
Professor Davies felt himself moan at that title, being called sir did something to him as suddenly he saw his hands automatically start to stroke his cock through his pants, not stopping even when they began to slowly leak pre-cum, dribbling down his legs and going to only speed up the process of his thighs suddenly filling out his pants, his shorter yet tighter pants that looked less formal and more sporty by the moment. His thighs continued to grow, becoming muscular and thick as Professor Davies glanced at Bryce.
“What are you…” The professor started.
“You like it when I call you, sir, don’t you?” teased Bryce. “Maybe it’s that jock juice I put in your coffee bro.” Bryce stepped forward, his musk only setting Professor Davies off more and more, finding it hard to think as he realised he left his phone back on his desk. His shoes now started to burst open at the seams as his feet grew longer, becoming lengthier as his pecs started to flex and his cock continued to throb.
“Bryce…stop this,” Professor Davies warned as he could barely stand, leaning back on the sink, a hand still teasing his cock through his pants. “You can’t do this…”
“Can’t do sir, not after me in your class. But hey at least you’re gonna be a great Coach,” said Bryce as he stepped forward. “I’ll help you get along, sir.”
“No! Bryce-” The Professor moaned as Bryce immediately started to lick and nip at the professor’s nipple, enjoying the sprinkles of hair starting to grow on the Professor’s chest as a result, continuing to lick and lap at his muscles, worshipping them as Professor Davies couldn’t resist, holding Bryce’s head in place as Bryce stroked at the professor’s cock through his new sport pants.
This was so wrong but it felt right, the Professor unable to stop as he felt his jawline sharpening, his own wrinkles faded away as he was growing younger, stronger, burlier, and almost unrecognisable not that he even knew what word needed anymore.
He was dumb…so dumb, and just as he felt Bryce’s tongue lick across his nipple once more, he felt himself cum, moaning out loud before Bryce kissed Coach Davies, new memories of his days in sport and taking care of his team in whatever way he could sparking in his small brain as he forget everything about lectures, and books, only caring about jocks and sports. It was after he felt the next spurt of cum escape his cock, he finally felt Bryce walk away, as the Professor started to dry off.
“Are you coming coach, you said we had practice in five?” asked Bryce.
Coach Davies simply gave a smile, and started walking out with the best member of his team, now one of the dumbest minds of his time, with just one of the best bodies.
“Can u believe all these losers??” I said. My friend Jonas and I were hanging out at the mall, trying not to puke at the hoard of consumer zombies lurching from store to store.
It was the forth of july, so it was even worse than normal. Up and down the mall there were groups of people loudly joking and laughing, getting their murca on, and wearing whatever red white and blue they had in their closet.
I was dressed all in black like normal. So was Jonas. Fucking automatons.
“Shit Brad, isn’t that Taylor Rives?” Jonas said, pointing out a muscular college kid who was rapidly approaching. His broad shoulders were pushing out a blue tank top and he was wearing red shorts. Tan arms showed off the amount of time he spent out playing ultimate frisbee, and his rounded pecs pushing out showed the rest of his time was in the gym.
In our intro psych class last week, I’d made a pretty assholic comment about how different kinda of people were good at different shit…like maybe meatheads like Taylor shouldn’t be in school. The guy looked better suited for construction or being a gogo boy or something…
“Quick,” I pushed Jonas into the nearest store. It was a pop-up store, just there for July 4th. The sign above the door said “americana”
“I don’t wanna talk to that guy,” I said. “He’s such a fag”
It was tacky to the extreme. The whole place was filled with everything from muscle car kits to uncle sam posters to size large american flag tank tops. Another muscle bound moron was working the counter.
I felt a stirring in my dick. Weird.
Jonas was poking around in the racks, killing time while we waited for Taylor to pass by. As his hand touched a piece of fabric, he said “Bro, I think I’m gonna try this on”
He held up a t-shirt that had a picture of uncle sam on it. The text read “We want you” and then under sam it said “to lift, bro!”
Did Jonas just call me bro?
“Hey Jonas, let me see that” I said. But he was already gone, headed for a change room in the back.
“I think this one is more your style,” I heard a deep voice say. It was the moron from behind the counter. And he *had* to be a moron, he was holding out a tank top with an american flag print on it.
I grabbed it away from him, ready to shove it down his throat, or at least ready to laugh at him and make a shitty comment. But the moment I touched the fabric.
What?
I don’t remember what…huh…
I was rock hard. My cock was totally visible, outlined in my skinny jeans.
“You wanna try that on?” asked the clerk
“Uh yeah…”
“Changing room is in the back.”
I felt high or something. I couldn’t concentrate. So I just followed the instruction and stumbled towards the curtained stall in the back
Inside, I shucked off my cloths. Not just my shirt either. For some reason I felt like I had to get my skinny boddy totally naked. And then there I was, just staring at my naked body and my 5" hard cock in the mirror…
I held the american tank in one hand and looked down dumbly at it. It was a large…I…I really wasn’t
My other hand started pumping my cock automatically. And thats where the weirdness started
Yeah…like it hadn’t already started
My cock started growing. Past what it had ever grown before. Six inches? Or was that like eight? Maybe nine? Fuck, I didn’t know how to measure this shit.
It felt thicker too. I definitely couldn’t fit my hand all the way around it. Wait…no…yeah I could…my hands are fuckin huge
I looked in the mirror again. My body was swelling with muscle while I pumped my cock. Everything from my peaked biceps to my thick traps to my tree trunk legs and my perky bubble butt was bigger…wait…bigger? Nah, this had taken like years to work for. U don’t get this yoked overnite.
I pulled off my cap and tousseled my blond hair.
Lol, I was such a nascisist…I’d come here to try on a tank and I just had to strip down so I could see the whole deal haha…
Time to meet back up with my buddy tho…I slipped my red baller shorts back on – the fabric feels so good when u go commando – and then tried on this stars an bars tank that my bro at the counter recommended. Looked fuckin great on me…
I slipped my flip flops back on and then my snapback and left the change room.
“Jonny!” I shouted across the store. “Check it out! Total buy, rite??”
“Yeah brah!” Jonny said in that bodybuilder voice. Dudes like 240 and makes me look tiny at 190. Jonny’s Uncle Sam T was stretched tite across his pecs. U could see his hard nipples pushing against the fabric. He’s smarter too, goin to college on a football scolarship while I work at my Dads roofing company. I’m the lucky one tho – I’ve got a killer tan and don’t have to worry about shit! And I always got plenty of cash – I pick up shifts shaking my ass for the other fags in town, and most weekends they pick me up too!
We paid for our stuff and left to keep lookin around the mall. There’s nothin like checkin out some sales b4 u head out to drink beers and watch the firewoeks
I bumped into my buddy Taylor outside the store. “Hey bro,” he said. “U know this store? I picked up an awesome muscle shirt here last year!”
“Yeah, ” I said. “Just got this! Wanna get outside for a while? I gotta football in my bag”
We all ended up playing football for a while, but eventually Taylor and I ditched out to go back to his place and fuck. We definitely went out with the bros for beer and fireworks tho
You felt your cock harden, your wish was being granted. Your need for sex and partying was growing. The spell was reshaping your personality, and body.
Soon, cock in hand you began to laugh like a dumb frat bro. You were becoming another dumb slut who loved New Orleans. The chemical reaction when you cum will make this permanent.
Unfortunately for you, the spell dropped your iq and inhibitions; you were already stroking. Soon your old nerdy life was splattering all over your toned body.
Enjoy being 21 forever, needing to party and fuck. Slut of the French Quarter, that’s who you are now.
You were like a statue, you agreed to model for the art class. You weren’t told that you’d be model clay. After underessibg, tue professor offered you some water Drinking the water, you felt you body seize up, coming to a complete hault.
The drink made you into clay, now you were at the mercy of the sculpting class, apparently full of horny gay men. The pulled clay off of you, smoothed yoir skin, sculpted your pecs and abs, adding muscle to your arns and more to your feet.
The massaged your face, pressing, scraping and pushing. Once they were done, they let you set and dry. The next day they fired you in the kiln. Once dry, they paikted you to look like a real boy, skin tone and all. Gone was the irish tan, replaced with a darker hue, thicker hair and a perfect complexion. On the third day they added all the fine details. The fourth day they glazed you sealing off the body hair you once had. On the 6th day they fired you again. Setting your fate as a resembling a 19 year old, statue.
On the 7th day they bathed you in the waters from the cauldron of life. Your skin gained feeling again, your blood was rushing you could feel your heart betaing. You were alive again!
You were a freshman again, your doctoral work was gone, nobody would believe you. You couldn’t remember anything, unbeknownst to you, the professor known as Dag, has slipped a piece of paper into your clay form. That paper dictated yoir new life, making you a C student, grade A hornball and an above average model. You might get your degree, but you ate much more happy flashing your body for the camera.
“Ahhh, nice lazy to day to kick back and relax,” said my roommate Paul, leaning back in the window seat. His hoodie was unzipped all the way down his furry beefy chest, and he was wearing the sweatpants he always wore to the gym and seldom washed.
I tried to not to stare. His body was so hot, his beard thick and manly. Even his big fucking feet in his tube socks turned me on.
“You gonna chill with me?” he asked.
“I, uh, no,” I said. “Gotta get some work done.”
“No man,” he smiled. “You wanna relax.”
“I do,” I said, “but I really need to…” I stopped. Why couldn’t I remember? I knew I had work I was supposed to do today.
“Just chill out,” he said. “Just drift.”
“Seriously, Paul,” I said, “I can’t just, um. I, uh.” I scratched my head, trying to remember, and then giggled. This was so dumb. I couldn’t remember anything!
“That’s right dude,” he said. “No cares.”
“No cares,” I shrugged.
“No worries,” he said.
“No worries,” I laughed. What were we even talking about? I forgot.
“No clothes,” he said.
“What are clothes?” I said, pulling off my shirt and yanking off my pants. It felt so good to be naked and free.
“Today we’re just a man and his dog,” Paul said. That sounded so great. I was about to ask where the dog was but then I remembered. It was me! Of course. I’m his dog. Obviously. That’s why I’m down on all fours, and barking, and wagging my tail.
I was about to walk into the conference room to defend my thesis when the stripper curse struck. One minute I was dressed in a suit and tie with a briefcase under my arm, and then there was flash of light and my clothes began to disintegrate, my body heaving as muscle grew. The professional outfit I’d picked out shrunk around my hairless body until I was wearing nothing more than a thong, and a cap and sunglasses appeared on my head. I looked down to the papers in my hand to see that they’d turned into a toy basketball, and suddenly all of my research and knowledge was gone. In its place was my job as a sporty jock stripper, obsessed with putting my tongue on balls.
“We’re ready for you,” called a voice from inside the conference room, and I confidently strode in to begin my act.
Get more stories of transformation, power, and control by Douglas Benjamin: http://bit.ly/DBGPlus
Welcome Valued Customer! You probably found us from a friend of a friend of a friend’s great uncle Tony. Yeah, that guy, you know the one.
You heard the stories. The rumors. The urban legends. That one specialty shop you can only find on that empty street? Those guys that sell “magical items”? Everything they sell is cursed! They have everything you want…for a price.
So Mysterious is celebrating our latest anniversary by expanding beyond our brimstone and mortar roots and launching our new website! Now you, our valued customers can browse our catalog stock of featured 100% real trinkets that are mysterious, hocus pocus, voodoo, and magic. And of course, it’s all cursed! We at So Mysterious are proud to give you the first pick of magical artifacts from infernal rummage sales, witches’ divorce settlements, defunded pan-dimensional science programs, and other quasi-peculiar suppliers and pass the savings onto you!
Enjoy our selection of specially marked items, complete with all known effects(1). Give them to your enemies, employers, and everyone else! Have that one annoying friend? Roommate? Significant other? Cut them down to size! Deflate egos! Great for pranks and fun at parties!
(1) SoMysterious.com is not responsible for any unknown effects. State taxes and shipping fees do apply. SoMysterious.com is not subject to any national laws since we exist between planes so don’t bother with any planned law suits. If lawsuits do appear your lawyers might find themselves subject to certain items so please let them be aware of what they are getting themselves into. Terms and Conditions may apply.
___
About The Project
So, what exactly is SoMysterious.com? It’s only the latest and greatest Transformation Anthology Project from the mind of Mickey Bamboo!
The premise, as the about page shown above explains, deals with the idea of what if that cliched little shop that sells those oh so mysterious cursed items was absolutely for real? What if your average, mediocre belt made you gain weight every time you loosened it? Or after buying that specialty barbell for your friend, it turned him into a beefy hairy caveman?
The book will begin with two stories, one being a weight gain tale of over 10,000 words, while the other has yet to be decided. With your help we can add more stories to the book.
Thank you for any and all donations, but for those who donate at the higher tiers, you’ll be able to get a specially crafted story included in the anthology. Ever imagine being a huge hairy beefcake? A massive flabby whale, possibly literally? Well here’s your chance!
Check out the terms of service below for rules and conditions.
Goals and Stretch Goals
While we hope to make at least $300 to fund the project, here are our future goals!
•
300 dollars funds the project with a two stories.
•
500 dollars funds three stories, each of which dealing with a different transformation type.
•
600 dollars funds a meta plot, a tale weaving between the other stories, starring the SoMysterious.com owners dealing with an overachieving lawyer. Would include corruption, weight gain, muscle growth, and bearification.
Further stretch goals will be added should we fulfill the current list. If for some reason we cannot reach our target funding, all money will go towards financing the anthology’s main title as well as any custom stories.
He is also the co-host of The Wright Stuff, a Transformation themed Podcast with T.F. Wight as well as the head host of Panda Pause, a furry interview Podcast.
___
SoMysterious Inc.
The 5th Plane, This Realm
Disclaimer
Book and Stories for Those Over the Age of 18
Reader Discretion advised
Pledge Story Information
• I will e-mail you asking questions about your scene or story
• All stories must start with a human male protagonist
• You can describe the character you wish changed, what transformations you would like, and preferences and details for the change
• Story and scene will be created by the authors
• All donators to the 5 dollar tier and up will receive the book before it arrives on Amazon
• Be sure to read all the rules before requesting a scene to make sure your ideas are doable
• We will be happy to discuss with you any concerns
• We have the right to refuse any idea but will try and work with you to find a suitable compromise
What is Acceptable
• Weight Gain
• Muscle Growth
• Anthro transformation
• Gender Swap
• Mental Changes
• Feral Transformation
• Age Progression/Regression (Regression is limited to 18 Years of Age)
Hey tf fans with any money to spare this is an awesome campaign and you should check it out. Higher level tiers get tf scenes (short stories) or full length stories. I think this is cool and wanted to bring it some attention
I hired all three of the bodybuilders to dance at my party, and they were a huge hit.
“Nice job, guys,” I said at the end of the night. They stood before me in next to nothing, just the skimpiest briefs, their bodies slick and sweaty with a strong musky smell.
“You have checks for us?” said one of them.
“Maybe next time,” I said. “This was just an audition tonight. You guys were fine.”
“That’s not what we agreed to,” said another. “You’ll have to pay us now.”
“Look, meathead, I don’t have to do anything,” I said. What a bunch of idiots. “Now leave before I call security.”
“You can’t call security,” said the third. “They won’t recognize you.”
“Why won’t they … uh … what?” I said, my head growing groggy. I fell to my knees, weak and dizzy.
“You’re just one of the dancers,” said a voice.
Was I? I looked down at myself. The business suit I was wearing seemed to grow thin and threadbare. Worn-out. It began to fall from my body, leaving only a blue pair of skimpy briefs on my thin frame.
“I’m not a… I’m not a dancer,” I said, but I wasn’t sure. Who was I? I sure smelled like a dancer, with all this sweat. Or was it them, did they smell? Was their smell rubbing off on me?
I lifted an arm to sniff – no, it was me, I stunk. I must’ve been dancing all night. Yeah, that’s right. I stared at my arm as it bulked up with muscle, growing thick and strong and hairy. The other arm swelled too, then my chest, my back, my abs.
Rising to my feet, I felt the muscle growing down my legs, my thighs and calves thickening with strength. My feet stretched, growing long and hairy, giant meaty slab-like feet on my huge hulking body.
“What did you… what am I?” I said, staring down at myself.
“You’re one of us,” said the dancer in the red briefs. “Muscle man. Body builder. It used to just me be. But then I started turning bad bosses into good men.”
“Good men?” I said. I felt so stupid. Why couldn’t I concentrate?
“Don’t think about it too hard,” said one of the other guys. “We all live in a loft now. Mostly just fuck and work out, get hired for dancing or whatever.”
“Awesome,” I said. “Am I coming with you now?”
“That’s the plan,” said the one in red. “Of course, as the new guy, we’re going to have to take you for a test drive.” He stepped closer, reaching around behind me. I felt his finger slide down inside my briefs to my ass crack, then press against my hole.
“Let’s see how many cocks we can fit in here at once,” he said.
Your initiation would be complete after they fuck you. You won’t eve recognize yourself in the mirror once their done. Each time of of them fills you with their seed and it pushes part of you out. They have decided you’d make a great bottom and it was he who is fucking you turn to decide what you be. He’s fucking away your inhibitions, he’s destroying all of your ability to live in “normal society”, he’s ripping your potential away. All of that is the sacrificial lamb to what you will receive. A body no man could resist, a fuckhole that will always be tight, a contant depraved need for sex, cum and man sweat. Your morals and values are burning up like leaves in an autumn pile.
You were going to help people with your life, you were going to be important and make a difference. None of that matters now, you see you can feel the transformation beginning your body tightening with muscle, bulging in every fiber of your being. Your face is rapidly growing that beard and your fuck hole becoming 1000 times more sensitive.
The pleasure overwhelms your mind, searing away useful neurons replacing them with neurons that connect to lust, pleasure and depravity. Your whole life is being stolen, rewritten, a slut since you could remember. A fuckboy and a himbo. Your life has always revolved around the need for pleasure, to submit.
Once you cum your new fate will be sealed forever. Anything useful about you, other than your cock, face, hot body, need for sex and your fuck hole will shoot from your body. They will take your potential, in the form of your cum and sell it on the street to some poor sod who never had a chance. And while he gets ahead in life, you’ll be found in back alleyways getting fucked for a buck
Muscle Tf Lover 