My Living Arrangement At College Is Unbearable. I’m A Dean’s List Honors Student, And My Roommate

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like this... and this...

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

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

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

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

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

I tried to save him, I really did! But Coach, man is he one powerful dude… Coach, and the rest of the team, even my best fr…. frien…. Bro… Ky caught on fast, and tricked the hell outta me! I thought I was being slick, sneakin’ around finding all kinds of fucked up shit, tryin’ to get Ky back, but fuuuuck! Coach caught me in his office and fuckin’ screwed me up BIG time!

Ah, no, not again… not again! I have to control this, if I can just keep my mind, I can save Kyle and myself, we can get back to our old selves… But, Kyle, he even helped them Jock me up! He played along with me, egging me on, pretending to be scared, but, they really did turn him into just a big dumb smelly brute! And now, I joined him, all because I couldn’t see through his act, and Coach has the whole team trained to catch guys like me. It had taken weeks to convince Ky… Kyle, that he isn’t Donkey, the team’s Quarterback. He’s been lumbering around school, and in town, eating up the attention, screwing his way through all the pretty girls and even some of the hotter gay dudes. You could hear him coming, then smell him, as he stomped around with his humungous dawgs, reeking up the place. He seemed to enjoy his pretty boy good looks, reveling in the attention, despite having hated guys like that before. But I finally broke him free of it, or so I thought, long enough to hatch a plan to get him back to normal.

We snuck into the locker rooms after all the players, Kyle included, finished practice. God, the humid, dank musty stench made me cough, Kyle pretended to hate it as well, as we broke into Coach’s office at the other end. I was picking the lock, when Kyle raised one of his thick legs, and kicked the door in, his cleat leaving indented prints in the door. I should have known something was up, Kyle isn’t a violent guy, but I ignored it and entered.

We snooped around the office, checking out every inch for a clue on how to turn him back, to free him of the control Coach has over him, when suddenly, as I was leaning over the desk, Ky grabbed me, crushing the air from my chest, and stuffed a slimy piece of plastic in my mouth!

I gagged, trying desperately to spit it out, but my jaw seemed to clench over it, and I found my tongue lapping at the goo all over the chewed surface. It tastes rank, like an old gym sock smells, rancid and sour, then changed to a sickly strong, bleachy flavor I immediately recognized as being cum! I tried to spit it out, tried to vomit, but my tongue lashed helplessly at it, drinking down the slime, and as it seeped down my throat, it burned, feeling as if I’d caught a sudden bout of Strep.

I could feel my body shaking as the mouth guard dissolved, my head going fuzzy, images of the team, of Ky, sweaty and aggressive after practice seemed to swim through my cotton candy filled mind. I found myself lapping at the flavors as they switched between distinct funk, and sweet, savory cum. I could suddenly tell the difference between them all. Feet, pits, jock ass, balls…. And I was enjoying it more and more, as my mind let go and sank into a twisting spiral.

Oh, no, that wasn’t my mind! That was the spiral on the computer screen Ky had sat me down in front of! Then, I head a deep, dreadful voice, Coach, congratulating Ky on his catch, and heard Ky grunting, and a sudden warm splatter on my arm told me Ky had just creamed himself. I couldn’t look, but I saw the door shut as Coach lead Ky out, and then came back for me.

I was shaking as words and images of football, chicks, muscle, sweaty guys, raunchy sex seemed to meld and twist into my head from the screen, and Coach sat there, goading me on, telling me all of the things I’d now enjoy more than anything else. Worshiping the team, being the team’s stress reliever, wanting desperately to be like them. I teared up, struggling to keep these things out of my head as they seemed to rip away at it, filling in deeply. The screen changed to plays, the field, grunting, running, working out, male, masculinity, virile aggression, the need to be a man! And I wanted it all, I was losing the fight, when in a flash, the screen went blank, and I realized the mouth guard was totally gone, dissolved down my dry, ragged throat.

“Fu…. Fuck bro….. the fuck you do to me Coach!?” I rumbled in a dim, dull sounding sexy timbre, the voice of a Jock, the kind that causes girls to cream themselves, and gay bros to bend over for you!

“Fuuuuuuuck! No!! Fuck!” I tried again and again to stop the words, I couldn’t control my own vocalizations, dumb bro speak pouring from my mouth anytime I tried to talk.

Coach went into a speech about loyalty, and how boys in this school who get caught doing anything against their star team, will find themselves joining. He was rummaging through a wardrobe on the other side of the room while he went on and on about the team, about my new position as a Tight End, making a lewd joke about how Donkey, I mean, Ky, and the team could use one, and how I’d find it difficult to say no. He came over with a few more items, while I tried to get up from the chair. I was sweating with the effort, when he grabbed my shirt and hiked I up and off me.

He grabbed a bottle of what looked like sun screen, and squirted a large blob into my chest, rubbing it in with hard, rough hands, making sure every inch was covered and shining in the oily goop. Then he went to town on my nipples, rubbing, twisting, pulling, pinching, all while he mentioned a surprise as well, as I leaked precum from the nipple stimulation into my pants. Then stopping, and rubbing a little oil into the rest of my torso, then my legs, arms, back, all the way down to my toes and up my neck. Not as much as my chest though.

Then he made me strip and tucked me into a jockstrap and cup, pair of purple shorts, a large, dirty pair of cleats, pads, but left the helmet on the rack in the wardrobe, and ordered me into the locker room, then the workout room with all of the heavy equipment. He put me through the most rigorous workout, yelling at me to work harder, lift more, run faster, pullups, sit ups, bench press, and all manner of grueling exercises. I was drenched by the end of it, feeling my pulse in my entire body, as well as realizing that the uniform I was in, was too tight. Especially in the chest and shoulders.

He finally released me, just as Donkey… I mean, Ky, uh, Kyle, came back, dripping sweat from his Bieber cut pretty boy hair, instantly filling the room with his… fucking, sexy… fuck… fuck no.. No! Not that!!! Anything but…. But…. Fuuuuuck……

I ended up licking him clean, from toes to neck, worshiping his muscles, sucking 2 thick, heavy loads from his balls After he left, I sat, sweating, my chest was now a true pair of man tits, big juicy nips perking up from the meaty pecs. I was panting as coach put some headphones in my ears, and with a sneer, told me to get ready for the surprise. He reached for my nipple, squeezed in between his fingers, and twisted, it hurt like a bitch, but I instantly moaned, my eyes going glazed as I filled my jockstrap and cup with a thick, creamy load of jock jizz. I was Tits now, the team’s sweat slurping, nipplegasming Tight End.

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan.  We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school.  I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans.  Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore.  And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with.  I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend.  On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him.  It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life.  For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left.  I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests.  I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan.  I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework.  I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student.  I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.  I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?”  the giant asked.  The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different.  I took a closer look at him.  “Long time no see, huh?”  I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate?  Woah, what happened to you?”  I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend.  This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation.  He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches.  He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see.  The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric.  He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms.  I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me.  But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to.  A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them.  Sigma Lambda Chi…  Had Nathan really joined a frat?  To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?”  James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms.  He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice.  I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot.  Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him.  I was gay.  To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship.  But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all.  Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately.  I’m glad you noticed.”  He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body.  His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine.  A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn!  You look great, dude!”  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again.  On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this.  On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys.  It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro?  I know I’ve been busy a lot lately.  Sorry about that, dude.”  We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to.  Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more.  He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal.  That lifestyle just isn’t for me.  He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school.  I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself.  Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate!  Finally found you.  You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude.  And who’s this dude?”  The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro.  Brett, this is James.  We go way back.  James, this is Brett.  He’s my roommate.  We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,”  Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me.  He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time.  “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro.  I just ran into him and we were catching up.”  Nathan responded.  “Hey, I gotta get going.  We should get food sometime.  Peace!”  I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym.  As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something.  This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for?  I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick.  I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him.  As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat.  I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time.  I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once.  He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from.  For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way.  I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore.  It was like he was a completely different person.  He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore.  He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore.  All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night.  All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer.  It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight.  The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now.  The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier.  I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t.  Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked.  Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off.  He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright.  To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you.  I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person.  I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me.  I felt like we had a good time today.  I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now.  I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro.  You might be right though.  Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy?  You’re more than that.  You’re my best friend.  But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew.  It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying.  You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro?  The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this.  I guess I was right, bro.  But trust me, I’m happy like this.  I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too.  I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best.  To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding.  I could never picture myself joining a frat.  I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with.  I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him.  I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying.  To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone.  It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back.  Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan.  I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym.  He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now.  If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite.  As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with.  It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind.  Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him.  I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on.  Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro?  One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone.  To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk?  There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now.  I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants.  I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment.  Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat.  When I asked, he didn’t specify what though.  It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?”  A mischievous grin appeared on his face.  Was he seriously offering me beer?  I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him.  Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks.  To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21.  Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us.  Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.”  Nate went to get two bottles for us.  I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it?  Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled.  “After a while, you get used to it.”  Nate turned the TV on as we chatted.  I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal.  I felt like I was a little too harsh on him.  It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago.  As we chatted, my body started to tingle.  Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate.  I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird.  Is this normal, bro?”  I asked.  By this point, we both had two drinks each.  I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.”  Nate responded, with a smile on his face.  Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober.  “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.”  I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body.  I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate.  Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead.  There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol.  As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt.  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess.  You alright?  Do you wanna change your shirt?”  Nate asked.  I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me.  It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes.  “Sorry about that, bro.  First thing I found.  Hope it fits you.”  It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it.  I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff.  For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top.  I wondered how I would look dressed up like that.  I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him.  I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro.  The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me.  Still, it was better than nothing I guess.  Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though.  It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it.  He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered.  I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom.  My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier.  Workout…Was that what happened earlier?  …I think so?  Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis?  For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me.  I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual.  After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t always look that big, right?  From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks.  I had to have been really drunk at this point.  I chuckled at the figure in front of me.  At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros!  I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!”  he said as he squeezed my muscles.  I have been working out recently, I think.  “I thought you passed out in there.  Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James.  I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation.  Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place.  The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment.  I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join.  I needed to join more than anything else.  I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros.  At this point, nothing was too extreme for me.  The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to.  Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,”  my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could.  I had committed at this point.  No backing out now.  I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!”  He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close.  “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something.  Did I actually agree to join his frat?  I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.  When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it.  “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it.  “We’re gonna be matching now, bro.  Isn’t that awesome?  I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever.  But you’re wearing it wrong.  Let me fix it for you, dude.”  He turned the brim around so it faced my back.  As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt.  I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest.  My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away.  Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me.  I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers.  Look like them, think like them, act like them.  Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro?  By this point, the changes were irreversible.  Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro.  You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt.  So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me.  I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro.  Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro.  It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge?  Huhuhu…”  I really had to think about that one.  I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak.  To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me.  He did what he had to as a member of the frat.  I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug.  We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle.  My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me.  Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi.  He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on.  He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow.  “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro.  I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch.  I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky.  Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight.  But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now.  I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit.  I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it.  It felt right to me.  It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down.  Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now.  It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge!  I looked awesome, bro.  As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh.  Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants.  Fuck, I was so horny for some reason.  Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes.  We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again.  “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over.  There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro.  I can take it,”  I responded confidently.  My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude.  I think I like you, bro.  Not like you, but I think I like like you.  I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me.  That’s why I had to make you a bro like me.  I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro.  And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool.  We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming.  First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me?  How crazier could this night get?  For all my life, I thought he was straight.  I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back.  I couldn’t stand her.  When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night.  To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too.  When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous.  I didn’t want to accept you for who you are.  But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.”  I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found.  It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most.  I felt like I was in heaven.  I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore.  I never did.  That shit was stupid anyways.  But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever.  I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?”  he whispered in my ear.  A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck.  This was real.  I nodded as he took me to his bed.  I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect.  He laid down on his back and stripped naked.  I never felt this aroused before.  My dick even looked bigger than it used to be.  I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months.  I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say.  I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now.  I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him.  In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome.  My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed.  My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s.  We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room.  The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder.  After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time.  I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs.  At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed.  We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.”  he whispered seductively as he kissed me.  We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate!  Did you do it?  How did it go?”  a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room.  I recognized the voice as Brett’s.  He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked.  To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out.  Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded.  He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro?  But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad.  I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes.  More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially.  Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded.  It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers.  I also learned how Nate met Brett.  He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat.  Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us.  Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat.  Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat.  They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen.  Not that either of us minded.  Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game.  Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become.  It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu.  I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too.  I even ended up changing my major.  I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore.  I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience.  I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside.  I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester.  We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent.  We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to.  College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again.  I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

Hyperspermia Pt. II

Continued from PART 1

I stood there, slackjawed in awe. In the forefront of my mind, I saw the guy I've always been; deeper down within me, yeah, something was off. Of course I was always slim, I was always sinewy. Though, if that's the case, why couldn't I shake that feeling? Maybe it was the fact I was wearing Alejo's shirt and jockstrap... Maybe it was the fact that I'd cummed so much my balls ached...

"Yo, dude! I'm bootin' up Smash Bros, hurry up!" Alejo called out from his bedroom, snapping me back into reality. Though, just to be safe, I snapped a quick selfie. In case something was off, I would be able to compare before and after at least.

I walked back into the room, and Alejo grinned. I picked up the dripping fleshlight from my seat, tossing it back onto his bed- droplets of our mingled spunk flying across the room. Plopping down onto the couch, I picked up the controller off the floor and leaned back as Alejo tossed that firm and strong arm around my shoulder. As the game flashed to life on the screen, the confusion over my reflection just melted away.

"Fuck, bro. This is the fuckin' life! Kickin' back with your buds, strokin' and tokin'." His enthusiasm and cheerfulness hadn't taken a single hit in days. That newfound energetic zeal and laid back persona had lasted throughout the nightly fleshlight swapping, the copious amounts of cannabis, the scary movies, the 'deep' conversations... the new Alejo was a different man, and he was more than willing to share that energy. "Speakin' of which, pack a bowl for us so I can kick your ass off this platform." I chuckled, reaching over to the bong and grinder to stuff more of his weed into the bowl. Though, as I unscrewed the top- horror.

"Oh shit, I think you're out of weed." Alejo paused the game, turning to me with a look of shock on his face. He rose, searching through drawers, shoeboxes, the abyss that sat beneath his bed... indeed his confused face showed we were out.

"Fuck. Aight, I'm gonna go restock on the good shit." He walked over to a pile of his clothes, slipping on a pair of jeans and shoving his big bare feet into his ripe AF1's. "Hang tight, bro. Give me like twenty minutes, I'll be back and we'll be sky high!" He leaned over, high fiving me and ruffling my hair as he walked toward the front door. I couldn't help but follow like a lost puppy, feeling as if I were tethered to my good bro. He turned to me just before turning the knob, and smiled. "Aww, I know you wanna come with. But my plug doesn't like new people around when we buy."

"I get it." I lied, my eyes drifting down to his crotch. He'd only just put on those jeans and there was already a puddle of dampness outlining his dick. "Might wanna clean up before you go, though!" I pointed at his sticky patch; all he did was look down and smirk.

"Heh, can't help it, bro!" He grasped onto his bulge, flashing those bright white teeth at me. "Been churning out my ball batter for days, bro. Free advertising, am I right?" I couldn't help but stare. His 'ball batter' had been coating my cock for hours at a time the last two nights, and the only thing in my head each time I see his wet groin is an image of that firehose spraying down my throat or straight up my cock. Though I thought I was being discreet, evidently I was not. His brows furrowed and he beckoned me toward him with a single finger, his other hand slipping beneath the black band of his underwear.

I slowly walked toward him, that musky funk wafting from his body wrapping around me again. It had become my own private little oasis, the moment it slithered inside of my nose I felt safe and satisfied. Within arm's reach, he let his left hand slide down my back and onto my tight ass, pulling me chest to chest with him.

"Bro, I have a feelin' you're coppin' feelings for me." He teased gently, squeezing my ass as he fondled himself in his jeans. "We got close these last few days, yeah?" Pulling his right hand out of his pants, his fingers were coated in his slimy pre; the scent of his unwashed dick paired with the sharpness of his thick white seed grew stronger as his fingers inched closer and closer to my face. Leaning in, he whispered. "Cuz I think I got some feelings for you too, bro." The slimy fingers pressed against my lips, easily pushing past and into my mouth. The tanginess, the cheesiness, the saltiness, the sweetness... it was like fireworks going off in my mouth as I sucked his 'ball batter' off his sweaty fingers. He smiled even more- I'd given him an answer without so much as a word. "Ooooh, yeah I think we're gonna be playing a different kind of Smash Bros when I get back, babe."

He leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. I felt his tongue slip and slide over mine, the remnants of his slimy spunk being shared between us before he pulled away. He winked at me one final time before walking out the door, closing it behind him. I was alone in the apartment. The moment played on repeat in my head, those supple lips against mine, his hard chest pressed against me, his hand gripping my rear, the pungent taste of that pre... I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted more.

I walked back into his room, realizing quickly that it seemed smaller than before. As if the ceiling had dropped, or the floor had. Looking down at my feet on the floor, I'd noticed they'd left big sweaty footprints from the kitchen to Alejo's room... I turned to the pile of his dirty laundry by the bed, with a raised eyebrow. Surely nothing would have fit, he was at least a foot taller than I was... wasn't he? As I thought about it, he didn't need to bend over to kiss me, he simply pressed his lips against mine... Huh... I must've had a growth spurt. The yellow jockstrap he'd donned on me barely fit compared to an hour ago, though I did end up adding my own pre to the mix after that little make out sesh...

I tugged the yellow underwear down, my erect cock springing upward as I did. Long, slender, slime oozing from under my hood... The little voice in the back of my mind screamed at me that I was cut... his weed must have really fucked me up. I tossed the strap onto the bed, and knelt down, rummaging through the pile of Alejo's clothes. Finding a much better fit in his cumstained black Calvin Klein's, I slipped my big feet through the holes, slipping it up over my thick thighs and onto my lean waist. The band snapped- a perfect fit. I pressed my pulsating bulge against the sticky fabric, sighing in ecstasy at his leftovers from the night before laminated my rod and sac.

A pair of black sweatpants sat deep in the pile, looking comfy as fuck. Pulling them out, they fit like a glove as I slid them up my long legs and right atop my bulging basket. It didn't take long before a little damp patch started to appear on the black fabric, slowly growing in size as I found his beat up Chucks. Size 14... just like mine... I don't know why I thought I wore size 10! Slipping my feet into the well loved, damn ripe high tops, it felt as if they were meant for me. My toes fell right where Alejo's sit, I could feel the depressions where those smelly dogs pressed into insoles. I turned to the mirror, dressed from the waist down in his threads, looking damn sexy. The sweatpants fell just below my abs, the cum gutters pointing directly to my leaky faucet.

I turned and collapsed onto his bed. Closing my eyes, all I could think about was his smile, his scent, that musty cock, that tangy spunk and how it felt in my mouth. I was pawing my throbbing member through Alejo's clothes, not even realizing I was doing it. My balls ached as I moaned, thinking about his lips against mine, about that cock in my mouth, his cum in my hole... I needed release.

My elbow touched something, and opening my eyes, I grinned as I saw what it was. His condom- Alejo's creamed condom, and one with one hell of a load sitting within. It was like my body was on autopilot, my brain could barely keep up. Within seconds I'd untied the knot up top, and pried it open. I brought it to my nose, taking a deep whiff. Fuck, it was so good. It was like sniffing that cheesy cock right under my nose, followed by that sharp cum stench that had sat in rubber for a couple days. A lightbulb went off in my head, as I slowly pulled the waistbands down, releasing my musky member from it's sweaty, slimy prison. I brought the rubber down to my head, pulling my hood down to easily let the slippery rubber slide over it.

I tugged, letting the top heavy condom slide down my shaft, until I felt Alejo's seed at the tip of my cockhead. I sighed in euphoria as the cool slime cascaded over my cock as the rubber fit perfectly in place. I just stared at it for a moment as it pulsated before my eyes. Slowly, I wrapped my hand around it- sounds of the squelching slick rubber holding his load tight against my rod. All I had to do was pull up, and push down. Up and down. His load sloshed around inside of the condom, lubing my cock as I pumped.

My body glistened with beads of sweat, illuminating the sick ink I must've got done recently on my arms. My abs rose and fell with my breath as I pumped, my juicy pecs jiggling as I thrust into my hand. Shit, I could barely breathe... Yet... I needed more. The fleshlight sat to the right of my head, still dripping our loads from earlier. I grinned as I snatched it up, holding it above my face. Globules of our cum rained down onto my face as I kept thrusting into his condom, the fleshlight coming closer and closer to my face until mere millimeters from my face. Oh, the scent.. the taste... As I plunged my tongue into the silicone hole, I must have reached nirvana. The slimy splurge slid across my tongue as I rimmed the fleshlight, lapping up every drop I could. Moans, cacophonous moans bellowed out from within me as I surrendered to the lust. My brain grew fuzzy, my mind grew dim.

I could only continue to thrust into my hand, and bury my face in the fleshlight; nothing else mattered. That craving for Alejo's spunk inside of me, dripping from me, possessing me... it's all that my warping mind could focus on. In fact, so enraptured was I with the filth and lust that I didn't even notice the front door opening and closing. Nor did I hear the heavy squeaking footfalls across the tile kitchen floor.

"Well fuck, bro. Couldn't help yourself, huh?" I pull the fleshlight away from my face to see Alejo leaning against the doorframe, his long dripping python straining against the sticky denim of his jeans. I smirked, my bright white teeth sparkled as his cum ran down the corners of my mouth. "How's about I tag in real quick, would you like that, babe?" I moaned with an unquenchable thirst in affirmation as he unbuttoned the jeans, taking a step forward before pulling down his black underwear to reveal that gorgeous 10 incher and pulsating swollen balls. He crawled onto the bed, grabbing my legs and hoisting them up into the air, my perky bubble butt beckoning for him. "Fuck you're so sexy in my clothes, babe." I feel the slimy head of his dirty cock press against my tight hole as he wraps his hand around my dick in his smelly condom. "You're gonna be even sexier when I fill you up."

He wasted no time, slowly pushing his member past my contracted sphincter. I yelped in ecstasy as he slid inside of me, going deeper and deeper until his sweaty balls pressed against my cheeks. I put my hands behind my head as he thrust into me, pumping my cock in tandem with his rhythm. Slow, sensual, and tender, his pace quickened. My hole seemed to mold to his perfect cock, massaging every inch of him as he picked up the pace. The sound of slimy slaps of our skin grew faster and louder, his grunts and my moans following suit.

"Oh fuck, bro. Your ass is so much better than the fleshlight man. Fuuuuck." Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. You could hear the tendrils of his precum lubing him as he kept thrusting until his breaths became labored and short. "Ohhh. Oh fuck, bro. You want summa this bro batter? You want me to fill you up with this hose?" I nearly screamed in confirmation, one last smirk and a deep slam inside of me, and I felt the torrent of his load flow in. One barrage, two barrages, three... four... five... his cock was indeed a hose, dumping what seemed like gallons from his baseball sized veiny balls into my body. I shot my load into his condom, swearing for just a second that instead of expelling my own seed, it was his rushing into my cock flowing straight into my balls, doubling... tripling... quadrupling their size with the sheer volume of his cum invasion. In that moment, I felt every ounce of strife and anxiety wash out of me. I felt nourished, rejuvenated, virile, and satisfied. He stripped the empty condom off my cock, pulling himself out of me as my hole closed up behind. We grinned, letting our tongues mingle once again, not wanting to part ways ever again. Not even for a single moment. We were tethered, we were one unit together. He pulled away for just a moment before standing up and pulling me to my feet.

"Oh fuck, babe. We're gonna be doing that a lot more often." I grinned, wrapping my strong arms around his waist. "In fact... you down for round two?" He didn't need to ask twice. I spun him around, bending him over the side of the couch; his plump ass begging to be plugged with my musky 10 incher.

---

Bianca, or should I say Bianco now, burst into the apartment. His sinewy muscles still dripping with sweat from the run across town to see his man. He called out, walking through the puddles of steaming white slime that had pooled across the tile floor. Our ripe threads and roached joints littered the apartment, our combined musk permeated every inch of the place.

"Yo, babe. Where you at? Why am I so fuckin' horny, bro? I just wanna dump my seed into anything that moves... what's wrong with me?" He walked toward the open balcony door, following the river of spunk and the slurps emanating from the outside. He rounded the corner, turning his head and smirked.

My hands held Alejo's pretty head as I speared his mouth with my tool. Fuck, he knows how to use that tongue as it wrapped around my length like a spiraling snake, my cum dripping like rain out of his mouth as he drank it down. I turned to face Bianco, winking at the sexy specimen of newfound manhood.

"Sup, B?" I gasped as I unleashed yet another torrent of my seed down Alejo's throat. "You want a turn, man? He sure knows how to drink it down, heh." I dismounted my best bro's face, his tongue hanging over the tip of his chin like a panting dog. "I'm gonna go pack us a bowl, bro. You two have fun, eh?" I slapped Bianco on the back as I walked away, hearing the unzipping of his pants and sighs of satisfaction.

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like this... and this...

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

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

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

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

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

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

Man-Candle

Under the guise of a gag-gift Chad gives his bookish friend a candle based on his own b.o. Little does Stephen know, as soon as he lights the wick he sets off to join the jock in sweaty abandon.

Very musk forward Jock TF! Hope you enjoy this story of Stephen's scent-based (new)self-discovery, Best! -Occam

His ears ring with tinnitus as he opens the gift. It’s as if an explosion has gone off as he tries to process the pancake in his hands. Everything in him says to laugh, it’s clearly a gag gift, a Man-Candle? His mouth is dry and all the blood in his head rushes to its other epicenter as Stephen looks up, eyes wide, to the man who by all appearances has given him a candle of his own musk, Chad.

His cocky grin is a perfect likeness of the one on the candle’s label staring up from Stephen’s lap. Chad’s expression grows even smarmier as he winks and raises an arm to smell his pit. Stephen’s face burns red as he sees the clear patch of grey that must have been fermenting all morning, his cock bumps against the package.

Chad’s eyes shoot immediately to the sound and his smirk shifts and an eyebrow’s raised in curiosity, excited that his friend must quite like the gift. Stephen speaks up quickly, lest the two brain cells bouncing around the jock’s skull stumble across any ideas, “What the fuck?” The first volley, bounces off Chad’s steel confidence. The second “what the fuck,” causes an eye narrow as the idea that this may be a misstep finally occurs to him, the third repetition of Stephen’s new mantra apparent gets through through Chad’s thick skull.

The jock’s arm remains raised to scratch his back and Stephen’s cock is more than happy to see the grey patch return and his mind must remain focused on not staring directly at the few pit hairs sneaking above his sleeve. Chad clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean bro… Chicks are always talking about how they love, huh- y’know,” he gestures to the air around him, “my aura. Just thought, you know, uhhh- a dude like you might too?”

The jock braces as he sees Stephen’s eyes narrow as he clearly winds up to somehow lash out. Unfortunately for the twink he takes a deep breath to start and is hit with the full force of the man’s ‘aura,’ it catches him off guard and underneath the package his cock pushes again. Stephen grits his teeth and averts his eyes as he tries to hide his desire, “Chad! Those are people you’re sleeping with! I’m just- This is-” Stephen does everything in his power to quiet his lust as he finishes, “Why would I want this?” 

Chad tongues his cheek and juts his stubbled jaw. Scratching his meaty stomach in thought, Stephen can hear the hairs dragged underneath the jock’s tight shirt. Making up his mind Chad decides to speak on the elephant, or moreover the trunk, in the room. Nodding to the gift poorly hiding Stpehen’s erection, Chad shrugs “I mean bro, seems like you’re enjoying it just fine.” 

“Jesus Christ, fucking straight men!” As unfortunately turned on as Stephen is from the gift and the hunk he has long tried to not be attracted to, at the highlighting of his out of control cock he finds the will to defend his paltry dignity. Though instead of speaking up as his mind is not running on all cylinders, his hands instead reach for anything not breakable to hurl at the man still smirking.

Pillows fly at the man as he continues to try and explain his thoughts, “Yo bro! Watch it-” he grabs one to use as a shield against the continued volley, “I mean I can take it back if you want!” Stephen’s dreams of salvaging dignity perhaps fall to the wayside as this remark causes the hardest throw yet. Chad smirks behind the pillow and finally gets to the door, “Whatever dude! I’ll see ya later! Once you’ve cooled off a bit-” 

Chad stands behind the closed door with a shit-eating grin on his face, straight men huh. Awfully dismissive of the bi jock’s identity but whatever. He listens to Stephen huff and unbox the candle through the wall, unaware that the real gift is to come when he finally lights that bad boy up. Whenever the pair get drunk enough it always devolves into Stephen wishing he’d hit the gym more and Chad begging for his friend to join him. He’d love nothing more than a gym bro he can fuck, and soon enough, unless Stephen has the strength to nip his blue balls in the bud, both wishes are to be granted.

It does not take long for already riled-up Stephen to give in to his curious urges. As soon as the scent of Chad in the air dissipates and he hears the front door of his apartment close, the countdown begins. Stephen stares at the obnoxiously smug photo of Chad on the candle and narrows his eyes, “I mean surely it’s a bit? It can’t actually smell like him specifically? Seems hm, expensive to do.” 

He bites his lip as he shakily goes to remove the lid, driven by a mind less than conscious and more than hungry. Mouth on the precipice of watering, as soon as the seal is cracked the scent washes over him like a tidal wave. Somehow more powerful, more alluring than the real thing. Rich and grimy, and indisputably the essence of Chad distilled into waxen form.

His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is now pooling with drool. It's anyone’s guess as to how the candle gets lit, but so it does. Stephen falls back onto the couch as his hands struggle to free his cock quick enough from pants that force it down at an awkward angle. It finally bounces free, flinging more pre than he’s ever produced upward. Droplets land just shy of his own face as his mouth falls wantonly open and his hands begin their gleeful work.

The creation of Eau De Chad was not light work, the boiling down of man into a single candle is quite the ask. Perhaps even more so than the transformative magic that it is to instill in Stephen. Within the candle are notes from every musky epicenter of Chad’s being, more than powerful enough to distract Stephen as he begins his journey into a musky jock’s shoes himself.

Foremost of the mind-numbing notes that the lost man is bathing himself in is perhaps the one he’s smelled the least. As strong as in his jock after a workout, sweaty pubes and dripping pre. The medley of scents from Chad’s crotch is so powerful that even without clearly even knowing the source it’s on the tip of Stephen’s tongue, much like he would dream to have on his tongue in reality.

Each breath pulling him deeper than the last, Stephen continues to paw at his cock now free to the open, musky air. With each kneading thrust his hands struggle to encompass his dick as it begins to change. Years of pushing down primal desires for his friend, the Adonis, evaporate into the air as he pictures himself working Chad’s cock. Breathing and licking the heady swear straight from the source.

He imagines working the larger man’s spit-covered cock and with each new image in his mind his own beast begins to reform. Dripping more pre than he’s produced in his life up to this point, his hips thrust into wanting hands as his dick thickens and spears high into the air. Lengthening to press against his sternum, veins bulge and criss-cross across its length as its head regrows a foreskin he never had the chance to enjoy.

When his smaller hands, unable to truly satisfy or encompass his new rod, shift down to try and cup balls bulging larger and pumping him full of masculinity, he hears them scratch against the new jungle of growing pubes. Though the jock tries to keep his chest relatively hairless, under the belt hair growth is wild enough to more than make up for it, and as Stephen begins changing into his new musky lover, he seems to be of the same persuasion.

The candle wick flickers as a new scent begins to rise in prominence. This one Stephen recognizes all too well, though usually poorly masked under cheap deodorant, the scent of Chad’s pits could never be truly hidden. His mouth waters as the scent washes through him and his whole body contorts in pleasure. When his own pits begin to itch he gasps and for the first time opens his eyes to find an impossibly large cock hanging over his thin thighs. His mouth quivers into a smile as the line between dream and reality shifts muddy.

For now though, for the pit fiend there is only one thing to do. He raises his arm and gasps as he sees his few pit hairs lengthening, while in between each one a few darker curls make themselves at home. Stephen forces his head into the sweaty spot and hungrily sniffs. Nose tickled by the growing jungle he moans as he encounters his own changing scent, currently overcoming his own, usually superfluous, deodorant it is but a pale imitation of Chad’s. Though it races to be something equivalent, no, greater. 

He continues taking deep breaths, switching between the candle burning strong and his own pit as his musk continues to heighten and shift. With each needy sniff it becomes clear that his odor is not the only part of him shifting. Previously undeveloped arms cramp as muscle begins to pile on. Veins pulse down their center as biceps that have scarcely known strain burn as muscle fibers break and reform to create an impressive peak.

Stephven’s face suddenly contracts into a smirk that he never quite understood before now as his arms force themselves into a pose. Flexing and exposing his newly hairy pits in what he now knows as a front lat spread, he almost laughs as his heady powerful musk begins to overpower the scent burning off the candle. 

Having not actually left the apartment, Chad puts an ear to the door as Stephven’s laughter and moans rise in volume and deepen in tone. He creaks open the door and is almost physically hit with the wave of musk as it pours out like a fog from Steven’s bedroom. His own brand mixing with the steam of sweat seeping from his new bros pits is almost more than he can handle. With every step his mind strains to not just give into his own hunger to pounce on his half-formed bro sitting in the chair. 

Hearing Steven’s socks fray and tear as a subtle note of foot funk rises to the top of the candle. Seeing his new partner’s legs fill his young-professional pants to their limit, bulging thighs pushing at and swiftly bursting the strained seams. Chad bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his own thighs cramp. He doesn’t know if he’s somehow growing as his new gym bro continues to edge larger or if he’s simply overwhelmed, if his own mind is too clouded from the hunger and musk.

Chad shambles towards Steven, mouth falling open as he sees the shimmering sweaty traps that have torn his shirt open. His eyes can’t look away from the newly heavy pecs that hang over his defined abs, he fights the urge to lean down and lap at the muscle as Steven delights in bouncing them. Sending cascading shadows across his sweaty core, and gaining more mass with every dancing flex.

 Instead, Chad leans in close to Steven’s delirium painted face. “Looks like ya liked my gift after all, huh Steve?” His breath mists across Steve’s face. Its heavy humidity barely overcomes the sweaty atmosphere but the sharp mint and undercurrent of musty breath underneath call to his nose like smelling salts. 

His jaw cracks and widens as the changes that have overtaken him finally begin their work on the final frontier. Unable to control himself Chad licks the man’s face as it prickles with stubble. Steve’s nose breaks then reforms, his brows thicken and cast a shadow over his eyes as they lose both their color and clarity. Deepening to brown as their default state becomes glazed and thoughtless.

Feeling Chad’s sticky tongue drag on his cheek, it’s like he was struck by lightning. Every new bulging muscle in Steve’s body flexes at once and he stands to his new height, able to make direct eye contact with the man staring at him, just inches away.

Steve tackles him onto the bed, knocking over the candle and sending wax flying through the air. The pair are sparingly coated in the Chad scented candle as they begin heavily exploring Steve’s new form. As their mouths that have always been left wanting find new delight, whatever shreds of the old Stephen that are left begin to vacate.

The anxieties and priorities of a small meek man who never let his id loose disappear as he positions himself over Chad. He bites his bro’s lip and thrusts downward as he pins the massive man’s hands above his head. Masked by the pleasure of true release, he doesn’t care as his old self washes away. Memories evaporate like the sweat pouring off his form. He delights in maneuvering across Chad’s form and enjoying his musk from the source.

His tongue dances across sweaty pecs that match his own as his collection of classics on a bookshelf disappear to be replaced by free weights. Steve’s nose finally shoves its way into Chad’s pits as his extensive collection of hygiene and beauty products down the hall clatter to the floor and disappear as they’re replaced by a single bar of clinical deodorant only used for special occasions. Sleeves fall off his wardrobe of cardigans and button ups as sweat stains yellow every garment. The tops throw themselves from hangers while musty shorts and jockstraps heap into a pile on the floor.

Sweat drips from his brow as with each thrust into Chad his mind gives up the ghost. Each impossible wave of pleasure erodes his old self, each drop of sweat an idea gone, each rivulet of pre dripping down his veiny cock a sign of his intelligence drained to increase the muscle mass of his new form. After all besides pleasure nothing matters to him nearly as much as his fucking hot bod.

He feels his balls pulse as every remaining aspect of Stephen’s self shoots down and is quickly converted. His eyes roll back as he cums the few specks of self remaining in a massive load onto Chad’s sweaty abs. After a few moments of total mindlessness from the jubilee of release, Steve awakens to find himself atop his bro and simply laughs, “Huhuh woah dude that’s a fuckin’ fat load huh?” He scratches at his hairy chest and grimaces as he imagines how that’s going to hide his gains.

Seeing the thoughts on his face as the two are evermore on the same wavelength Chad pauses rubbing Steve’s cum onto his abs and offers, “Lookin’ a little rough there bro, wanna go top up and then hit the gym?” Steve smirks as his bro basically reads his mind, “Yoooo totally let’s hit it!” He punches down into his bro as he stands, smirking as he watches Chad’s cock bounce before sprinting into the restroom and prepping to get pumped.

The gym starts to clear out as the pair arrive, judging by the musk already following in their wake no one dares risk having to smell what it’s like once they actually start going. Stopping in the locker room the pair stop publicly groping and sniffing each other long enough to take a pre-workout photo, tongues out as ever. When they see some poor soul who didn’t escape the gym quick enough covering his nose they eye each other up.

“Yo dude, looks like lil’ bro over there’s gotta problem with your stink.” Steve performatively sniffs his pit and shakes his head, “Nahnah bro. It’s definitely yours, check it.” They continue to talk up eachothers musk while the young man can’t help but sit there, stunned into silence. With each new statement the pair swagger closer until their sweat may as well be dripping on the man.

Gasping as he regains awareness just as the pair are almost standing over him, the sharp intake fills his lungs with their musk as a smile creeps over his face. “Looks like lil bro’s likin’ it after all Chad.” Throwing a sweaty arm over his bro, the man who can scarcely recall that his bro hasn’t always been like this laughs, “Huhuh, well obviously bro, no shot anyone’ll be able to resist us soon.” The pair help the hazy man up and begin ushering him through the ropes, eager to have another musky jock in their image and excited to see how far their little group will grow.

Michael’s Pits

Getting into his car Michael closed the door and basked in the hot musty sedan. It was a hot day and he had left a pair or two of worn shoes sitting in his car just baking and letting their aroma amplify. Michael took in some deep breaths as he felt sweat running down his body, he had just exited the gym and the hot sun outside kept his body from cooling off. Michael loved summer because he always worked up the most stink during the sweltering summer months, lifting his arms. He turned his head to get a deep sniff of one pit and then turned his head to get a whiff of the other. Both were producing a dank scent that pleased Michael and his dim mind. Hearing his phone buzzing he looked down and saw someone texting him, the text was from his boyfriend asking what he wanted to do for dinner.

Camron was a little surprised when his boyfriend Michael texted back and told him “we shuld get a pizza bro”, Michael never spoke like that so it was very odd to Camron that Michael was texting like a dumb jock all of a sudden. “Sure babe I’ll order it” Camron texted, he called the pizza place they go to sometimes.

Walking into the pizza place a sweet looking guy was standing at the cash register, “Hi how can I help you today?” he asked Michael. Michael looked at him dumbly for a second and a dopey grin crossed his face, “Great! A fucking weirdo” thought the cashier. The cashier, Sage, asked again, “How can I help you today, sir?”. Michael’s foggy brain cleared up a little bit to allow him to tell the cashier what he needed, “Uhhh hi bro im picking up a pizza”, “What’s the name?” Sage politely asked, “Uhhhh it’s under…ummmm…” his brain was having trouble getting his boyfriend’s name out “it’s under Camron!” he shouted out joyfully. “Okay! Let me go get that for ya” Sage said, going into the kitchen Sage found the pizza box with Camron scribbled on the side. Walking back out Sage was met with the sight of Michael sniffing his armpit, Sage could smell the B.O. wafting over the counter and into his nose. “Ummm here you go sir…” Sage said apprehensively as he was being weirded out, “Do you think my pits stink lil man?” Michael asked the cashier as he scratched his fingers in his wild forest of pit hair. “Ummm sir…I-,” Sage stuttered out “Here give em a whiff” Michael said, sticking the hand he was just scratching his revolting pit with into the cashier’s face, Michael laughed as Sage took an accidental sniff.

Sage felt his body go limp as the stench emanating off Michael’s fingers put him in a trance, “Whats happening!?!” Sage thought “This…this guy…reeks”. Michael watched as the cute little cashier began to drool, his eyes became unfocused and dull upon smelling Michael’s masculinity. Removing his fingers for a second, Michael walked around the counter to be right next to Sage, getting a couple whiffs of fresh air, Sage shook his head and blinked. Wiping the drool away he shouted out “What just happened?! G…get away! NO! BACK OF MAnnn…” Sage’s words drifted off as he was put back in Michael’s stinky armpit. Holding the pipsqueak’s head into his pit, Michael watched as his musty scent did it’s job.

Sage began to grow, the first transformation Michael saw started after about a minute or two of exposure to the stink. Sage’s neck began to expand with muscle, which quickly spread into his dainty shoulders, turning them into two massive hulking mounds. Sage felt as an intense tingling descended into his arms, they quickly transformed into looking like a hillside, all the rolling muscles he had just grown were so perfect and round. His armpits filled with a peppering of hair and began to produce their own nauseating stench similar to Michaels. Michael looked on proudly as Sage’s pecs bounced out and touched him and his stomach chiseled itself into a perfect six pack. Sage’s thighs began to expand next as the transformation moved downwards, the tiny toothpicks he once had for legs turned into massive meaty members holding him up. His feet began to grow next and they quickly burst out of the sneakers containing them and released Sage’s newly developed rotten foot funk.

Pulling his victim out of his armpit, Michael got to see his new face. It had changed while stuck in Michael’s smelly pit. His skin had gotten a good bit darker, his goatee had become just a patch of hair underneath his chin, and his stache disappeared. He lost all the femininity he once had and looked like a reeking latino gym bro. Michael was satisfied and took the pizza and left, on his way out another young twinkish customer walked in and he heard Sage ask the customer “Huhuhuh bro do my pits stink?”.

I'm so sick of having to be responsible for other people. I just wanna be a stupid cum-gushing stoner himbo.

It's my fantasy to have a special strain of weed that everytime I smoke, it permanently bloats my balls, making them permanently overproduce so much cum and testosterone and making me so horny that I can't even think, doing my IQ and reducing me to a gooning pothead himbo.

Advent Calendar - December 6th

I never really thought of myself as the adventurous type. With my head buried in algorithms and codes, my life as a computer science student at the local university was anything but exciting. That is until today, when I stumbled upon something quite out of the ordinary in my holiday advent calendar. The traditional chocolates had been replaced by unique surprises each day, and today's treat stood out - a small pouch filled with weed that emitted a strong whiff of peppermint, it also looked a little bit like a Christmas tree which was a nice touch.

Intrigued by this unusual find, I cautiously inspected the contents. Now, I'm not completely unfamiliar with weed; I had tried it once in the past out of sheer curiosity. I vividly remember the mellow high and occasional giggles that followed. However, this peppermint-scented variant was an entirely different league.

The scent was intoxicating, to say the least, creating a wave of both bewilderment and curiosity. I had never encountered anything like this before. As I held the pouch, the peppermint aroma seemed to cast a spell, drawing me in further. With a mixture of doubt and intrigue, I found myself pondering over the unusual effects this strain might induce. Could it be stronger, more potent than anything I had tried before?

With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I decided to smoke it. As the peppermint-laced smoke filled my lungs, a wave of unexpected sensations began. The scent was indeed hypnotic, drawing me in further with each breath. At first, there was just a faint tingling sensation around my groin, subtle but undeniably present. Then, as if out of nowhere, a surge of raw, intense horniness exploded within me.

I wasn't prepared for the intensity of it, the way it seemed to consume my thoughts and make everything else fade into the background. It was as if my mind was being clouded, the once sharp edges of my intelligence dulled by the overpowering wave of desire. At first, I fought against it, trying to hold on to my rational thoughts even as they slipped further and further away. But the horniness was relentless, its grip on me tightening with each passing second.

The urge to give in became overwhelming, the promise of mindless pleasure too enticing to resist. Gradually, I began to succumb to it, allowing the primal instincts to take over. The initial struggle was replaced by a growing sense of surrender, my once sharp mind now shrouded in a blissful fog of arousal.

As the intoxicating effects of the peppermint weed took hold, my body began to change in ways I couldn't have imagined. Firstly, my arousal seemed to intensify with each passing second. It was as if a never-ending surge of lust pulsed through my veins, making the simplest of thoughts clouded by explicit images and urges. My pupils dilated, the once sharp edges of my vision becoming hazy as if I was perpetually lost in a state of pleasure-filled daze.

But it was the physical changes that truly took me by surprise. I could feel a heavy weight starting to form in my groin, the unmistakable sensation of my balls beginning to swell. They grew larger and heavier, sagging prominently with the sheer abundance of cum and testosterone they were now producing.

Every step I took, every movement I made, the swinging of my heavy balls served as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. And the precum, it seemed to flow endlessly from my overproductive cock, a relentless stream of sticky pleasure that coated my skin. The feeling of it was velvety smooth and enticing, a constant tease that left me wanting more.

Physically, the changes were becoming more pronounced. My once lean frame was now taking on a different form, the slight musculature of a stoner replacing the skinny build of a computer science nerd. The well-defined lines of my arms and chest hinted at a subtle strength, a result of the relentless munchies and munching I found myself indulging in. My body, once devoid of any real muscles, was now adorned with a lanky, lean physique that exuded a distinct aura of musky arousal.

As the weed's effects continued to exert their hold, I could feel my once sharp mind becoming clouded, the complex thoughts and academic knowledge gradually slipping away. In their place, a singular focus emerged - the relentless pursuit of pleasure. Every thought, every action revolved around this basic instinct, the once intricate workings of my intellect replaced by a primal simplicity.

 "Mmm, I like...feel good," these were the words that now dominated my thoughts, a simple and crude expression of the all-encompassing desires that filled my blank mind. I could feel my once extensive vocabulary dwindling, the complex sentences making way for a more straightforward, almost childlike manner of speech. The once intellectual discourse was replaced by a single-minded repetition of basic needs and desires.

I reached down, my large hand gripping my thickened cock, slick with the constant flow of precum. Each stroke felt like a jolt of raw pleasure, the kind that bypasses rational thought and goes straight to the primal core. I could feel the weight of my heavy balls, their persistent sag now serving as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. My other hand wandered over my lean torso, the subtle strength of a stoner evident in every curve and line. I leaned in, inhaling deeply, my nostrils filled with the unmistakable scent of pit musk - a heady mix of sweat, weed and testosterone that served as an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

As the haze of the weed clouded my already dulled mind, my actions became solely focused on pleasure. The relentless edging sessions, the hours spent in a state of mindless bliss were a testament to this singular pursuit. Each touch, each stroke was a worship of the changes that had taken over my body, a celebration of the unrelenting desires that now defined me.

I gooned hard, the hours blending into a continuous loop of raw pleasure. My once sharp mind was now a blank slate, every rational thought replaced by a simple, crude need for mindless pleasure.

Finally, I could feel it building, a relentless wave of pleasure that seemed to emanate from the very depths of my being. Each stroke, each touch was a step closer to the edge, the promise of release hanging heavy in the thick, hazy air. And then it hit me, I finally succumbed to the ecstasy of release, a jolt of pleasure so intense that it seemed to shatter the very fabric of my senses.

The first rope of cum erupted from my overproductive cock, the force of it hitting me like a physical blow. It was thick, creamy, and unrelenting - a relentless stream of pure bliss that coated my skin in its velvety warmth. I could taste the saltiness of it on my lips, the earthy aroma of musk serving as a constant reminder of the raw eroticism of the moment.

And it didn't stop, the waves of pleasure were continuous, each climax more intense than the last. The cum, it seemed endless - a testament to the overproductive nature of my heavy, sagging balls. It dripped down my body, a tantalizing tease that left me wanting more. Each wave of release was a crescendo of pleasure, the world around me fading into nothingness as the singular focus on my pure, unadulterated ecstasy took over.

With a primal need, I scooped up the thick, creamy cum that adorned my skin. Each finger that dipped into the smooth texture was a deliberate motion, a way to prolong the raw pleasure that the simple act evoked. I could feel the weight of the cum in my mouth, the taste a heady mix of salt and - thanks to the weed - an unmistakable pepperminty sweetness. It was something I savored, each deliberate movement of my tongue a celebration of the raw eroticism that now defined me.

As I lay down in the puddle of my own cum, the surrealism of the moment hit me. And as I succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep, the relentless high of the weed and the lingering taste of my own cum served as a lullaby, each sensation a promise of the raw pleasures that awaited.

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As a side note I really fucking hate tumblrs porn ban, I’ve had to delete 3 pics already from this story just to get it live