“Doctor Collins, is that you? What the hell are you doing?”
Doctor Collins turned around, the once sterile doctor’s office around him was now a mess, a cacophony of distress rang throughout the entire hospital as doctors and nurses nearly tramped one another rushing back and forth in the outside corridors. Meanwhile Dr. Collins was here, shirtless and stripping out of the rest of his clothing in his own office. Doctor Richardson had been called to find him and as the aging older and more experienced doctor of the hospital, a genius like no other who valued his intelligence. Yet the now balding man in his mid-fifties was glaring at the suddenly young and muscular Dr. Collins.
“Yeah see about that,” started Dr. Collins as he smirked, scratching his youthful wisps of hair with his own glasses. Dr. Richardson couldn’t deny it, the once forty year old doctor now looked twenty and irrevocably handsome with a lean body to go with it.
“You realise we’re practically dealing with an epidemic out there, and what are you doing? Dancing in your own office?” questioned Richardson, Collins only laughed, throwing his lab coat to him.
“Oh yeah I forgot, I was dealing with one of the patients when they made a mess,” explained Collins. Richardson felt something immediately damp when he caught the lab coat and looked down through his spectacles at the stains.
“What the hell is on this?” asked Richardson.
“It’s cum dude,” laughed Collins, Richardson threw the lab coat away.
“That’s disgusting,” growled Richardson.
“Is it? You seem to like it,” noted Collins as he stepped closer, Richardson tried to step back only to feel his back hit against the desk. “I mean you’re hard already.”
“What are you- Oh!” Richardson moaned as he felt Collin’s large hand wrap around his hard cock, looking down he could sense where a sudden heat was emanating from as Collins slowly started to jerk off his fat cock through the pants, allowing the heat to only spread throughout his entire body.
“Don’t worry I started feeling like that too bro,” murmured Collins as he continued to toy with Richardson’s dick feeling it begin to grow lengthier and longer through the pants themselves. “Come on bro.”
“Dr. Collins this feels-” Richardson felt the salty taste of precum on his tongue as his coworkers large cock was on the tip of his swelling lips. “So good.” He moaned, his own hands beginning to touch himself as he parted his lips and wrapped them around the large head of the dick. Bobbing up and down, a stream of pre-cum started to soon flood down Richardson’s throat as with every drop he started to feel bigger and bigger.
“Oh yeah, bro you’re starting to fill out.”
Richardson’s cock was already at its peak having snaked several inches as he started to feel his legs warm and wet from the heat of the growing pleasure and the constant dripping off his cock. Bobbing up and down, he began to feel his thighs thickening and the calves beginning to grow further and further outwards. Muscle felt like it was being swollen up from the inside, the more he continued sucking on his bro’s cock, the dumber and better he felt for it as his own thighs now touched together simply from how thick they now were.
The same could be said for his torso which started to push out, as if someone was blowing air into his deflated and skinny self, he found his posture changing entirely even from kneeling down. His back aligned itself properly as it no longer the hunched over back of an aging man but resembled the fit young back of a stud in his prime, grey hairs disappearing and being replaced with blonde ones as the blemishes and boils of the skin faded away whilst he aged downwards, growing younger and younger.
Richardson felt Collins grab the back of his head as his own back seemingly snapped into place with muscle after its growth. The skinny torso began to inflate with muscle as the upper chest started to fill out soon growing into a mountainous slab of muscle in the forms of two bouncing and striated pecs that jiggled slightly from his every movement.
His own lower stomach sucked in and swelled again as he continued to lap up any pre-cum whatsoever, feeling the fat of his stomach fade away and now replaced with Adonis abs that swelled through the sweat and employed the deep crevices that showcased the foundation of his own newfound libido and masculinity by carving the deep lines that hinted at his sexy body and large cock through his six pack of abs.
“You ready for this?” chuckled Collins as he popped his dick out of Richardson’s mouth, starting to jerk himself off in his face as Richardson did the same, his own hand wrapping around his cock as he stayed kneeled.
“Th-This feels wrong,” moaned Richardson as he could feel his ass beginning to push out, all the while his own hands began to wrap around his cock that much easier, the fingers forever growing as the palms of his hand grew smoother, more nimble.
“Dude, don’t worry about it, just feels good to lose your smarts,” groaned Collins.
“But-” It was too late. Richardson closed his eyes as he felt Collins begin to come all over his face as he felt himself lost in an orgasm whilst the similar heat that started this all emanated from both his face and the pool of his own come forming underneath him from his own large cock. There was too much to focus on and he could feel it as he widened his eyes, feeling like he made a sudden mistake. “What’s happening to me? Feeling so dumb. Feels so…hot. Yeah, so hot. Fuck yeah, I’m so hot bro!”
Richardson or “Richard” soon forgot what needed to do, what Collins or anyone else needed to do as his face started to shift and grow more angular. He felt the years lost on him and instead of being fifty he was now a twenty five stud with a shar jawline, a small nose, large lips, and blonde hair.
“Don’t worry about it, now come on bro, show us that sweet bod of yours under that medical coat or whatever it’s called. Maybe we can get some other bros in on it.” Collins laughed.
And the once intelligent and renowned ageing Dr. Richardson, now just the frat bro Richard agreed.
Feel your body exploding with muscle…. tightening up…. your face changing….
Realize that even your clothes are transforming. Your nerdy skinny jeans are turning into a high-end pair of athletic sweatpants… A tight fitted cap appears on your head…
No need for a shirt any more… not with a body like that…
As the transformation finishes, allow your old self to melt completely away, becoming the perfect gym bro you have always wanted to be….
Put the phone away now. Flip that baseball cap around. Go lift some weights with your bros. Get pumped up.
YOU’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND ME! I AM SO TIRED OF THIS SHIT! WHITE PRIVILEGE IS NOT A THING, I WORKED HARD TO GET WHERE I AM. YOU ACT LIKE, BECAUSE YOU’RE GAY, YOU HAVE IT SO FUCKING HARD!!!
This was most of your conversations with your dorm mate, you still don’t understand how this happened. Trey was blind as a bat when it came to social issues. Always throwing out micro-agressions and not even realizing it, a basic white asshole. You two seemed to be always arguing, and it was getting old, you had the rest of the year to deal with this fuck. The worst part was, you were so attracted to him, and it pissed you off.
Trey was your typical straight white frat-boyesque tool, and he should have repulsed you, but something made you so hard. Maybe it was his ignorance, looks, or general dumbass nature, you didn’t know but you knew he was on your mind while jerking.
You were jerking one day, and your best friend, Emilio stopped by and decided to walk right inside. He was quite amused that your were rubbing one out, until he pried the picture of Trey out of your hands. Emilio’s ultra liberal personality flipped a switch and he lost it on you.
Cussing, swearing, angry as fuck, Emilio activated something deep down within himself, fully unaware.
“I hope you’re happy with that fucker, you two must have so much in common,” was all Emilio needed to say and his anger dissipated.
He simply turned around, crumpled the picture, through it over his shoulder, and left.
What neither of you knew is that Emilio had lineage to ancient gods, and a power that was hidden deep within. As the day went on, you found yourself daydreaming about Trey, more than usual. You were thinking about how good he looked and how you wish you could look like that.
Shaking your head, you silenced the foreign thoughts and went on about your academic business. Sitting in Advanced Theories of a Macro World, you found yourself bored, where you were normally quite enthralled. It was weird, but the discussion seemed stupid and pointless. YOu couldn’t understand why people kept talking about other races and how they were oppressed. People had to make their own way, it takes hard work.
“Fuck,” you thought, what am I thinking.
The day went on and all of your classes went similiar to the first.
YOu headed home and went into the bathroom, to splash water on your face and take an aspirin for the headache that was ensuing. Yet you became quickly distracted when you saw Trey’s clothing. He must have left his polo, boxer briefs, and shorts in the bathroom. Not even thinking, you put it all on and looked at yourself in the mirror.
You noticed, your hair had lightened, and your face seemed more defined. YOu looked like Trey and it was really weird. You found your self exploring your body, as your hands ran over your skin, it felt different, your muscles felt like they were getting stronger by the second.
“What the fu…,” your voice cracked and fell like a stone. YOu grabbed your throat in surprise. All of this was turning you on, this excitement was making you hard. You grabbed your swollen and long cock and began to jerk again, trying to think about Trey, but for some reason, hot naked women came to mind.
You were both disgusted and turned on and your hands wouldn’t stop moving. It felt so good, but you were imagining that it was a tight pussy.
Suddenly you stopped, horrified at what was happening. In a state of panic, you went to the mirror, only to see a face that looked like it could be Trey’s brother looking back.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said, the more you jerked the more you seemed to change. You took the clothing off, but you were still hard and looking this blonde looking frat boy reflection wasn’t helping. You tried hard to think gay thoughts, to reclaim your sexuality, you started to think about how you could help other in need, but it wasn’t going well. Conservative, thoughts, arrogant confidence, and ego-centric beliefs were burning into your head. Whatever was happening was killing your empathy, turning you into a rich, white, tool.
YOu realized your hands were jerking you off again, your head was pounding and you couldn’t stop any of it. You felt like you were drugged, your brain felt slow and words were difficult to grasp. Memories of being a business major, frat boy, and president of the young conservatives on campus, pushed their way to the front.
Your cock felt so good, and you were so close to cumming. Moaning you felt the last of you changing, you couldn’t fight it anymore. As you erupted, your new life locked into place, you became Ryan Stillman, younger brother to Trey Stillman.
Your dad paid to make sure you and Trey got into school and were dorm mates. Trey was the fucking best and he totally got you. You both loved to party and fucck chicks. Neither of you would go very far in life, but that didn’t matter as long as those stupid fucking liberals stayed out of your sexual conquest.
You just can’t help showing off now, can you? It’s like you’re constantly looking for ways to show off your new body, to put it on display, to give everybody a show…
It’s gotten to the point now where just want to wear as little clothing as possible when you’re out in public.
You just want to wear whatever will show the most skin.
Fuck, man. When I started growing hair on my face and on my chest, that was probably the end of my academic career right there. Yeah, I had already gotten hairy all over my groin and started to get a thick dick, but I reminded myself that was normal and to not think of it much, just focus on your studies. I was probably fighting it ok, but after I had to shave for the first time I was in front of the mirror jacking for almost an hour, rubbing my tongue over the rough stubble, just so turned on for some reason.
I tried not to think of it for the rest of the week, even went to bed and found myself getting hard and forced myself to think of something else. Then I found I couldn’t stop staring at this upperclassman who I knew guys said might be into dudes. He had this goatee and was wearing this red v-neck shirt with his burgeoning teenage chest hair just poofing out of the top, and I couldn’t stop staring. He was wearing these tight denim jeans with holes in the knees, so that you could kind of see how furry and muscular his legs were getting, and his ass looked so hard and firm that I just had to follow him home. We ended up fucking in the woods and that was the end of Andrew E. Berard’s academic ambitions and the day Drew Woodhouse made his first appearance. My motto is never look back, and now I’m fucking around all the time like the slut I want to be. Every whisker that grows in thicker, every muscle that pops out a little more, every chest hair I sprout – it just turns me on even more, man.
Just last night I was fucking around with this hot dude on the football team of the school rivals, closeted which was so hot, cuz I don’t give a fuck. I had my two hands on his firm, hard ass just running it through the locks of light brown fur that covered it for what felt like hours, this peach fuzz that was on its way to beast fuzz, all over his ass, man, until he was begging me to plow him. I rode him with my hands wrapped around his pecs, feeling him flex and grunt while I probably drooled all over the nape of his neck, only he obviously was fuckin’ loving it and I rode him like a cowboy. I was telling him yeah, you want to see me with ten more pounds of muscle, just give me three months, you want to lick these pits, you sick faggot? Love talkin’ dirty to dudes like that, asked hiim if he was into cowboys. He just shouted yeah and I roared right back at him, ‘yeah, you like this cowboy shit, don’t you?’ He let me cum all over his face, then we made out some and I pushed him off me and left, haha. Just wait, see how long he can go without texting. I sent him a shot of my chest hair and just left it at that.
“Go on, take a selfie mate,” This stranger said to me
”Nah”, I told him, “I’m not much to look at.“ Wondering why this hot guy would request something like that.
“Well then, what is it you want?” Said the stranger
I thought about it, always wishing for those jock-bro looks. You’know the kind of looks that looks good in a snapback, hot face and muscled body. What I didn’t realize is the stranger was a demi-god, one that has survived off of people’s fantasies all of these millennia. He grants wishes, just by delving into someone’s fantasies, the problem is once the fantasy becomes reality your current reality becomes a source of nourishment for him. You become exactly what you want, no more, no less. The complexities that make you, you, are part of the sacrifice you give.
But it isn’t all that easy you see, this man, god, whatever he has become needs your permission he needs you to consent to give up the old you, for a brand new you. He doesn’t want you to know that based off your fantasies, you’d simply be a frat stereotype for the rest of your life. He isn’t going to tell you that you won’t age a day past the day he sets for you. He simply needs you to agree, he knows you are desperate to be someone else. He sees the darkness eating away at your soul, he knows you want this and of course he will make it the most pleasurable experience for you.
“So”, he says “If I could, hypothetically give you anything you wanted, would you take me up on the offer?”
You feel a rush of excitement and your cock twitch. “Hell yes I would”, you say without thinking.
That was all he needed.
He pulled your fantasies from your head, you felt your body change. You average body felt leaner, tighter. With your arms beginning to bulge tightening in your sleeves. Your cock hardening beyond belief as your abs began to form, feeling the pressure of muscle in the abdomen. Your calves were sore, like you had done a thousand leg days. Your feet grew, burst out of your shoes from size nines to fourteens.
You didn’t know what was happening, you tried to speak but a low moan of pure pleasure came out. Surprising you as your nasally voice was replaced by a bass only fitting for a jock-bro, your fantasy.
You felt a tingle spread across your face as stubble began to form and your face felt like it was being molded into the face of the perfect man. Almost as if you were made of clay. Your hair darkened, and you felt your body stretch, giving you a perfect 6′2″ height.
You were practically precumming a volcano when it hit. The most pleasurable part. You felt your brain draining, re-arranging and forming memories that weren’t there before. Life in the frat, life as a sex god, life as someone who enjoyed a good party, good beer and his fucking bros. Your mind was getting simpler, part of you knew this was wrong, but the pleasure was too much to handle.
He whispered in your ear “Just let go.” That hot breathe against your ear broke the barriers of your complex mind, reducing it to mush. Letting it also reform, just like your body had. You, the perpetual 21 frat boy, no one would ever question it, it just was. The complexities of you, of life and of everything that you let go of, made its way to your now perfect, 8 inch cock and balls. Where he knelt to finish you off. You erupted more than anybody could humanly erupt. Torrents of your old life, your old potential and your old memories were absorbed, by the stranger.
Once he was done, said, “Hey bro, why don’t you snap a selfie?”
“Fuck yeah man, gotta show the world what their missing out on.”
It took all of five
minutes but Kyle was finally able to get the information he needed. He didn’t
know what Coach Larson was doing but he knew something was happening. All he
had to do was get to some kind of authority and he’d be able to rat him out.
However Kyle hadn’t realized there was a mop bucket sitting right behind him.
His small lithe body
tripped suddenly sending him to the ground. “Shit… Shit… Shit…” He cursed
himself. By the time Kyle was able to even get his bearings, Coach was already
standing in front of him.
“See anything
interesting?” His voice boomed with authority.
“No… Coach, I didn’t
see anything,” Kyle lied. Maybe all he had to do was act innocent and then
coach won’t suspect him of anything. Before he could even say more coach
started laughing.
“Course not! Scrawny
kid like you ain’t never seen nuthin. Here. Let me help you out.” He leaned
over giving Kyle his hand.
The thought that he
was getting off scott free shot through his head. Maybe Coach didn’t really
notice. But Coach isn’t that dumb. He always knows when one other
players is lying to him. ‘Other players?’
“Well
I gotta get going,” Kyle smiled. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Not
a bother at all,” Coach’s laugh was creepy. “Love to see you around here more.
Can’t imagine you find a better place than ole Coach’s.”
It didn’t take Kyle
long to want to leave. He headed for the locker room door. Something kept
telling him to stay though. He rubbed his hand through his thick well-trimmed
beard. “What was I doing?” He asked himself. His hands scrapped through his
thick hair making it stand up a bit. “I know I was supposed to do something.”
His thoughts started slowing down.
Everything seemed to
be a little different. And his shirt felt so tight. That’s why he couldn’t
think. His shirt was practically strangling him while riding up his waist
showing off his sweet Adonis belt. “How’d I even get this thing on?” his laugh
was deep and shallow. “But, I know how
to get it off.” He quickly tightened all the muscles in his chest and
shoulders. The fabric quickly tore apart. Laughter erupted from his chest.
“Stupid shirt.”
Kyle looked at himself in the
mirror. “There was something I was supposed to do…” he pondered. “There was
something I was supposed to tell about coach. He was doing something…” His
thoughts started to get a little more groggy. He couldn’t think straight. All
he could do was admire his amazing body. Slowly his hand found its way to his
chest. He started rubbing and feeling the tight muscle.
“Damn,”
he flexed, “Making some gains today. Gotta tell coach. He’ll want to know.
That’s what I’m supposed to do. Tell coach bout my gains. So he stops thinking
I’m that scrawny ass fuck that started out a couple of years ago.”
Coach Larson stepped around the
corner holding a blue notebook. “That’s right Kyle. Tell me all about your
gains.”
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.
“How’s it going, boys? You two look like you could use a cold one,” said the shirtless meathead from the lawn of BΩΔ House. He had a cooler out in the open, loaded with Coors. He reached for two cans.
“Thanks, but we’re on our way to our own pledging ceremony. ΦME,” replied your fellow rushee, Jeff.
“Phi-Me? You guys are the ones that are all science majors and engineers, right?” the meathead stood up with a beer in each hand.
“Yeah, I’m civil, he’s nuclear.”
“Huhuh, no one in our frat’s that smart. We’re the swolest frat, tho. But really…” the meathead said as he walked towards you…
“… You guys seem way too hot in those jackets.” He was staring into your eyes and you couldn’t look away.
“Have a cold one.”
One or four or twelve beers later, in the basement of BΩΔ House, you and Jeff signed pledges to BΩΔ. And began your new lives of dumbing down, jocking up, and getting swole as fuck.
Muscle Tf Lover 