Delayed Graduation by joshslater

– We might have a solution of sorts for you.

I barely registered principal Johnston talking. My world had been shattered, without warning. It all felt unreal, and most of all unfair. I know I hadn’t done anything wrong, but there were no witnesses, just my word against hers. She wouldn’t press charges, Johnston had explained. I was almost demanding that she did, so I could clear my name, but thought better of it. If it went to trial all outcomes would be bad, to varying degrees. This way I would just be expelled. I guess I could use the term “drop out” to soften it further. It’s not like the job market is stellar even if you have a degree, but this would firmly pigeon hole me as manual labor.

– What?
– I said we might have an arrangement that could interest you.

He pulled out a stack of papers from his manila folder and placed them in front of me, and continued.

– We have a little trial project we would like to push ahead with, to see what the full potential is. Coach Andrews would personally take charge of your training to see how far he can take you in a year. Similar to what he managed to do for Shane O’Brian. Since you will be heavily supervised, fully scheduled and not share any classes with your former class mates, she has agreed to allow you complete your studies under these conditions. It’s not that many months until she graduates anyway. Your graduation obviously will have to wait until next year.

Shane of course was the star of the basket team. He was two years below me, so I didn’t know him, but I heard he had basically never touched a ball before he met coach. He must have been active in something else though, with that body. The girls were swooning like crazy. Some of the boys too, as rumor had it.

– Sir, I’m really grateful for this opportunity, but I’m not really made for sports. Just look at me. Tall and thin. Not much track and field around here.
– We are not asking for any miracles. Just follow all instructions given and do your best. That’s all we’re asking.

I started to flip through the papers. I was bored just looking at the page numbers.

– Should I bring this home to my parents?
– This is a bit time sensitive, so I’d prefer if you make your decision already today. You’re 18. You get to decide this on your own. Why don’t I leave you for a bit? You can have a read through, and then decide what you want to do.

As he left the room I started to go read through the contract properly. Why do they make things so complicated? The contract really just said that I assumed responsibility for the “infraction”, but the school would not disclose it to anyone unless the contract was breached. I would agree to participate in the athletic education study for one year. In return the school would allow me to graduate next year. But written over 26 pages.

I didn’t feel like I had many options. Initials on every page and signature on the last. Then repeated on the second copy of the contract. I was about to leave and find principal Johnston when he returned, followed by coach Andrews.

– Have you made up your mind, or would you like Mr. Andrews to explain it in more detail.
– I’ve already signed the papers.
– Oh, well then. I’m so happy we could work something out.

Coach Andrews opened the gym bag he was carrying and pulled out a blue singlet and ear guards, and held them for me to take.

– Let’s try this on right away.
– Now? Here?

Johnston opened a door to a side room of his office.

– You can change in the conference room here.
– But wrestling?! Have you seen me?
– As I said, follow all instructions and do your best is all we ask.

It was the first time I even held a singlet in my hands. I’ve never even thought of how to put one on. It wasn’t hard, just step in them like some shorts and then pull the straps over your shoulders, but I never imagined doing it.

I looked ridiculous. I guess size isn’t as important when the fabric is stretchy, but this sure wasn’t my size. The taut straps pulled the fabric in the groin, while at the same time my thin legs didn’t fill out the legs of the singlet. What a mess. I walked back into the office, naked apart from this one single piece of clothing.

– Should I put on the ear guards as well.
– No, that isn’t necessary. Here.

Coach opened a small, brown, glass bottle and poured its contents into a white plastic cup from the water cooler, and handed it to me.

– This is the time sensitive part. Drink up.

This day was going from horrendously bad to confusing to weird. I emptied the cup. The liquid tasted like cough syrup. Sickly sweet and with bitter herbs.

– What is.. *cough* *cough*
– Here. Take a seat.

It felt like drinking really hot cocoa when you are frozen. It kind of spreads from the chest to the rest of the body. All of me was getting warm, and an uncomfortable feeling or pressure. Everything was off, like I was drunk, or high or something. It was over in a minute, though it is quite possible my mind was playing tricks and it really was longer than that.

– Stand up against the wall, so I can take a photo.

Bewildered, and with unsteady steps, I did as told. He snapped a few pictures with his phone, and then showed me one.

– Don’t tell me this isn’t a great starting point.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely me in the photo, but it was like the aspect ratio was wrong. I must be several inches shorter, but everything, arms, legs, chest, shoulders, neck, was wider. Even my face was altered, if ever so slightly. Where just minutes before, or whatever, I was a lanky gamer, I now was a hunk of muscle.

– How is this…
– Don’t worry about the details. We must work quickly now while you are fresh, to get the wrestling technique right. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 7 am.

With that he slapped me on the shoulder and left. Just as he was about to exit the office, he pulled out a pair of shoes from the bag and placed them at a table.

– Oh, I almost forgot these. Your new size. See you tomorrow!

My head was spinning. What had just happened to me, to my body? Starting point? Principal Johnston had his distinct “anything else?” look.

– What about my studies?

My voice was lower than before, I think.

– You’ll be placed in the athlete’s reduced curriculum class. We just need to retest your proficiency levels first.
– Why? I don’t understand.
– My point exactly.

He didn’t make any sense.

– What about this body? What happens when I graduate?
– You graduate with the body you have, like everyone else. It’s not like we can change it by magic or anything. Take your old clothes with you as you leave. Something might still fit.

It didn’t.

Tyler Hoechlin, Motorcycle Cop by The Craftsman

thanks to Mark I found a Craftsman story I didn’t know I was looking for!

the-craftsman:

“Look officer, you clearly don’t know this but I’m Tyler Hoechlin and I don’t-”

Tyler couldn’t believe this! After years of successful acting and modelling, here he was celebrating that success with his new Ferrari, a true testament to all the hard work he’s been through.

Driving around the streets of Los Angeles, it wasn’t uncommon to see a celebrity here and then, and the people loved him, if not for his talents, then his looks.

He knew that he was a sexy guy and so when this old bearish cop comes up to him with his squeaky leather gloves and a cigar tucked between his teeth, he didn’t care.

But when he was told to get out of the car for his rudeness, he was angry. He was a celebrity, he couldn’t be treated this way and he wasn’t going to take this guy seriously, not until he started smoking.

As Tyler smelled the smoke that surrounded him, his eyes glowed blue suddenly changing as Tyler felt an odd pleasure racing through him as he continued to stare at the man, blinking hard and trying to stop whatever was happening as his vision blurred to focus on the man.

“That’s it, you fucking celebrities always treat us like dirt for doing our jobs. Now it’s time for a little payback,” growled the cop as he continued to blow smoke in Tyler’s face. Tyler couldn’t deny how good it felt to smell as he was backed up against his car.  “So tell me Ty, tell me how good you are, how famous you are, come on.”

“I’m-I’m Ty-Tyler Ho-Hoechlin, y-you’re gonna be i-in trouble i-if you hurt me,” growled Tyler as he continued blinking, trying to focus.

“Oh nobody’s hurting ya, Ty. That’s your name after all, isn’t it? Ty?” said the officer as he blew more smoke into Tyler’s face. Tyler struggled to even move, staggering and limping against his car.

“N-No, I’m T-Ty…err…Ty…Ty-” Ty grunted at himself in frustration, trying to remember his name as he glared at the officer. “What are you doing to me?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all you just look a bit uncomfortable Ty, that’s all,” explained the officer as he looked down at Tyler’s shoes, still smoking. “Why are you wearing size 11, boss? Thought you were always 13.”

Then and there “Ty” looked down to see his own toes ripping through his shoes, his own feet expanded outwards destroying his expensive trainers as the soles continued to lengthen beyond their means and tore through the entirety of his famed footwear. His toned toes were shown wriggling through before suddenly something else encased them. 

Much like the smoking officer in front of him, Ty watched his shoes become darker and larger as they turned into the same leather boots the cop was wearing, keeping his large feet stuffed inside.

“No! S-Stop!” growled Ty as he tried to step away but realised he couldn’t move at all, his own feet heavy and stuck to the ground.

“Stop what Ty? There’s nothing wrong with being big…watch,” said the officer as he touched Ty’s legs.

Ty’s jean instantly ripped to shreds as his own thighs began to thicken through the worn material, now growing so large that they couldn’t help but burst from their confines and continue to grow longer and larger than ever before. 

The feeling of growing muscularity was nothing but pleasurable to Ty as he tipped his head back, enjoying the raw strength that was emanating from his own new legs as the calves grew against his will and formed an Adonis-like physique far superior than his own.

“F-Fuck! Please! I’m sorry, I won’t be rude again!” promised Ty but the officer wasn’t having it as he smiled to see the remnants of Ty’s jeans become the leather pants he was wearing now.

“Now, now, Ty, I don’t believe you. Let me help…” exclaimed the officer as his hand approached Ty once again. Ty struggled to get away, the smoke making him weaker by the minute.

“No! Not my abs! Please anything but-” The officer’s gloved hand stroked the tip of Ty’s stomach through his shirt and Ty could already feel it. 

His stomach bloated with muscle but of a different kind and a different build. He looked down in shock as he felt his own abs disappear and instead feel his stomach growing out as the shirt ripped to shreds down the middle to reveal the new muscle gut, broad and with the perfect amount of fat to make him still big but ripped. 

He felt his back stretch taller as the same racing pleasure was now doubled from his legs to his chest, his pecs growing sharper and more revealed as brown hairs started to sprinkle itself amongst the skin. 

“Fuck! My abs! Worked so- fucking hard at the gym for those!”

“Aw, don’t worry Ty, you’ll grow to love it, just like this,” the officer explained as he touched the tip of his finger to Ty’s shoulder. Ty thought about pushing him away but those thoughts quickly disappeared as he was almost pushed back to the car with more pleasure than he could ever imagine as his biceps continued to grow and grow and grow even more. 

Ty didn’t realise it but he was grabbing the officer by the shoulders and the more he continued to hold on, the thicker his own arms grew, the biceps doubling, tripling in size.

It’s only when the officer brushes them off that they stop growing, throbbing with muscle as the leather outfit can barely contain them.

“You feel so good, don’t you Ty?”

“Please…please…”

“What’s that? Please? You beggin’ for more? You got it!” The officer smirked as his hand went towards Ty’s hard cock.

“No! I didn’t mean- OH!”

Ty grabbed the car, looking down at himself as he felt his cock throbbing like a heartbeat, becoming bigger and bigger with every second, the head becoming bulbous as the bulge looked like it would rip through the leather. One inch, and then another, and then another, each moment that passed by was another moment that the cum was filling up and ready to burst through the dam that was Ty’s mind.

“NO! AW FUCK! FEELS SO GOOD! M-MAKE IT STOP! I’LL BE GOOD! I SWEAR! PLEASE I’M GONNA-”

The cock finally came, ribbon after ribbon of cum flooded Ty’s leather pants and dripped down like a river as it splashed over his own underwear and thighs. A pool formed underneath Ty filled with his draining mind, memory, as his face shifted and he grew older by the minute, his own self faded from reality and into nothing more than a puddle of cum and the Ferrari behind him became his police cruiser.

“How are you feeling Ty?” asked the officer.

“That’s sir to you,” growled Ty as the cum was soaked up by his leather and he stepped out of the puddle, he pulled out a cigar and lit it up, beginning to soothe himself with smoke scratching his own chest “Let’s go, boy. I got a job to do and some celebrities to catch. Time to teach those privileged guys some manners.”

“Right away sir.”

Ty had to admit it, as he climbed into his new police cruiser, it felt good to be a cop and it would feel a whole lot better with celebrities under his thumb. 

His new plan to establish police dominance over the men of LA was just beginning, and the people would thank their new chief of police.

image

What goes around… comes around? by CoyoteR

Reposter’s note: taken from https://muscle-growth.org/blogs/entry/532-what-goes-around-comes-around/?ct=1560115716 CoyoteR was an awesome tumblr writer, now on Musclegrowth.org

Derek was dorky, overweight, and well… really kinda super ugly at this point… To hear him tell it, people had treated him like garbage all his life. Derek didn’t realize it but he’d only really been miserable for about a week…

 The curse I’d placed on him was just to have a bit of fun at his expense I suppose. “yTfr JyHg NfGpQw uSkOl NfGpQw” or loosely translated: “What goes around comes around,” that sounded like something he definitely needed. Derek isn’t the biggest jerk in the world, he’s actually pretty normal for the most part I guess; he just talks about other people WAY too much, poking fun at them mostly. Not to their faces of course (like I said he’s not a super jerk) but oftentimes to friends or other coworkers. Anyway, I have had the pleasure of being his best friend for about 14 years. We’ve hung out since we were in middle school actually and ended up sticking together through school then as room-mates, straight up to our current tedious office jobs.

Anyways, I’d always been a bit of a dabbler in things occult and when I came across a curse that would inflict his mockery of others back onto himself, well… I couldn’t resist.

The week started off kind of predictably actually, poor Phil from the office downstairs was hugely fat and the higher ups hadn’t ever seen fit to promote the guy. He came by to drop off some paperwork then sure enough by lunchtime, suddenly Derek isn’t in the cube next to me, now he’s downstairs and so overweight he had food delivered to him for lunch. 

The following days all went in a pretty similar fashion, I’d see Derek at the end of each day and could guess some of the things he had said: his thick glasses, his nasally voice, his weird face, his…bowel troubles (ick), it went on and on. The weight though was probably one of the funniest things, he’d go from being morbidly obese to rail thin from day to day, always talking shit about the other side I guess.

So I like I said, he’s been dealing with this about a week and I think he’s learned his lesson so its about time to let him in on it. We went to the grocery store together Saturday morning like always, the only difference was Derek positively stuffing the cart with junk food, waddling alongside me today.

“Hey… So I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something…”

He looked up at me, squinting slightly before wheezing out in his shrill voice.

“What? …Y-You’re not moving out are you?”

I raised up my hands shaking my head. “No! No no no.” 

He let out a sigh of relief and continued back on trudging forward. 

“I just wanted to let you in on–”

“Hahaha-*snort-wheeze*-Heh. Hey Alex, check this guy out!” Derek was holding up some workout magazine he’d grabbed up from the bookstand.

“Look at this exercise homo! Just cuz he’s decent looking he thinks he’s somebody important. He probably spends hours on making himself look good every morning then I bet all he does is work out and get off on other dudes!” *snort-laugh*

I laughed for a moment then suddenly winced, grabbing my head a moment (I guess you shouldn’t look directly into the curse…) then looked up and there stood the new him.

wgaca1.jpg.1b1ed0e1cd9b1f30661b11a402d1198e.jpg

“Wow… uh Derek?”

“Yeah dude?” He placed the magazine back on the shelf and continued on.

“So.. you know all that weird magic-ey stuff I’m kind of into?”

“Yeah; that occult crap is so stupid and such a waste of your time bro.”

My head hurt again a moment, looking back up at him, though nothing seemed changed…

“Well I sort of… put a curse on you… and uhh…”

He turned and smiled that weird too perfect new smile at me.

“I know you tried to Alex, but you know I’m much better at that kind of thing than you.” He took a step closer to me, I backed up half a step while he continued.

“So instead, this morning I thought it would be only fair to give you a taste of your own medicine.” 

“W-What? What are you talking about?”

He took another step closer, wrapping one of his now large hands around my back and pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue pressing into my mouth. 

I, of course, freaked out. It took some struggling (he was so damn strong now!) but I managed to pull away. Stumbling back, I tried spitting the taste of him out of my mouth.

“What the hell! Sorry dude, but I’m not into fitness-junkie queers!” 

He grinned widely at me. That perfect sexy smile of his always made me melt and damn he knew it. I closed the distance between us, running my hands over his muscular chest, kissing up his neck and square jawline before finding his mouth. All the while, his hands explored my body, squeezing and caressing my back before trailing his fingers down over my six pack. God… sometimes I’d worry that we should be doing more than going to the gym and fucking, but times like these…

“Mmm… Alex, lets hurry up and finish shopping. We still have to get in another 2 hours at the gym, Summer’s only 5 months away and you’ve barely put on any muscle.”

I blushed but smiled back to him, he was right; I may be incredibly fit but I don’t really bulk up like he does, my build is much leaner than Derek’s but that’s alright; I love his muscles, I don’t need some of my own.

We checked out, then headed out to the car. I loaded everything up then turned and saw Derek staring at some roided out douchebag jogging shirtless with his dog. That smile returned to his face when he looked back at me, probably noticing the sour look on mine.

“Hmm.. Whats wrong?” His eyes widened a little then his voice had a teasing tone to it, like he was goading me. “Jealous?” 

“Hmph!” I scoffed at him. “Why would I be jealous of some muscle monster exhibitionist?”

He shrugged, that teasing smile widening across his face again as he looked me up and down. I just stood there and scratched my bare chest lightly before placing my hands at my sides, smirking at him… 

wgaca2.jpg.2bc8eba89a7b52d12244269eef145c36.jpg

“Whatever, I know you like what you see, just like everyone else. Besides I’m way bigger than that guy anyway…”

A Revenge Fantasy by playernumber37

playernumber37

A Revenge Fantasy

You feel your mouth flicker into a snarl, your fists balling at your sides.  You see your muscles twitching under your skin.  You aren’t looking in his eyes – you know what happened the last time you did that.  Well, you sort of do.  It’s like a story you tell yourself, half-remembered, just the basics, and only sort of how it ends.  First, the slow creeping numbness over your brain, like fog over the river on a cold morning.  The humming, the buzzing, that rises in the same manner.  You know that if you let your eyes close, just a little bit, just a fraction, they might slam shut.  You might wake up somewhere else again.

The way his words slide in and out of your consciousness.  It’s like trying to hold onto a slippery rope, coated in oil.  Your hands just keep sliding, even as you fight to hold on.  To concentrate on the words he is saying, not just the sounds they make, the way they piece together.  It’s so important to fight, to fight it with all your might.  It is important because if you don’t, you might slip, slip just a little, lose your footing.  Every single one of your muscles is wrought iron, is corded steel.  You are not superhuman.  You cannot keep this up forever.  

The thought occurs, unbidden, a little suggestive, flicking in and out, stiletto-quick: is this part of it?  What are the words he is saying right now?  Maintain!  Focus!  Concentrate!  So many imperatives, so hard to – 

A wave of dizziness crashes into you, and you are faltering, teetering, there in the darkness behind your closed eyes.  Wait – when did you close your – are you become desperate?  Where are you on the slippery rope?  Your breath is so measured.  So even.   Wait, stop.  Breathe.  In, and out.  Relax.  You have this.  You can do this.  You are assured, you are confident.  Your mind is iron, just like your muscles.  You feel your muscles twitching under your skin.  Muscles are what is important.  They are how you maintain the fight against him.  You relax.  You grin.  There’s no way he beats you.  Not again.  Not with muscles like these.  This is what you are good for.  Muscles.  What’s he saying now?  It doesn’t matter that you don’t know.  You let the slippery rope slide.  You are confident.  You are laughing on the inside.  You let the tension drain out of you.  There’s no need to hold all that energy in your muscles, the best part of you.  All that electricity, all that fight.  You know he can’t best you, not with your muscles, not with muscles like yours.  You flex, just to show him who’s boss.

“Well, you got me,” he says, and you open your eyes, swimming to the surface through what seems like an eternity of shifting colors, black to twilight to gray to blinding white – he is sitting there in front of you, smiling, arms crossed over his chest.  “You can’t be hypnotized.”

“Yeah,” you say, uncomfortably rolling your shoulders.  “Can’t be hypnotized, bro.”  He grin widens. 

“And there’s no way I can get you to change your mind.”

“Naw, can’t change my mind, bro.”  The words are out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.  Thinking to stop them seems like kind of a waste of time.  Who thinks before they speak?  What’s that even mean?  There’s a sort of fogginess.  You feel yourself frowning, just a little.

“Aw, what’s the matter?  A little confused?”

“Uhhh,” you start to get out, but it’s like your mouth’s filled up with cotton, or is it your head, or is it both?  It’s like having water in your ears after dunking your head underwater.  Try again.  “Uhhh…”

“Wow, it really works.”  A new voice.  You turn your head to one side, surprised at how much effort it takes.  Someone standing next to him.  Staring at you, with a weird look on their face.  Something a little like surprise, but mostly like they just won something.  “And he’s gonna stay like this?”

“He might relapse, but you just have to say his trigger phrase to get him to, ah, recharge, as it were.”

“Or drain his batteries, haha.”  They share a high-five and then stare at you again.  

What the fuck.  This isn’t right.  Something’s gone terribly wrong – you fought this!  You didn’t get hypnotized, you were strong, your muscles were flexed.  You start to stand up, and they’re staring at you.  “What’s a matter, bro?  Feel a little funny?”

“Uhhh … yah,” you try to explain yourself.  I feel dizzy.  Faint.  Confused.  But the words just exist now as themes, as big feelings, in your head, and you don’t have the tools to describe them.  You make motions with your hands and arms.  You raise one arm from your side and clench your fist.  Your bicep engages, your tricep engages.  Parts of your lats and delt engage.  Your body is a machine which has been turned on, and this clears some of the fog.

“Holy shit, he’s posing!”  The new dude is looking at the other dude.  They’re both skinny like twigs.  Glasses.  Smirky.  Fuckin nerds.  “This is nuts.”

Your mouth opens.  “This isn’t me!  I’m not this way!  I flex, I flex, I – “

They stare at you, for a long, unbroken moment, and then burst out into laughter, laughter that goes for so long that you raise your other arms and flex that one too.  That makes sense.  Flexing shows you’re strong.  Shows that you’re not weak.  Can’t be beat.  Can’t be hypnotized.  Can’t be made dumb.  You’re strong in the brains.  “I’m strong,” you say, but the brain part doesn’t make it out.  “I’m strong,” you try again, and then flex again.  God, it feels good.  You don’t want to stop.  You never will stop.

“What about his classes?”

“Taking care of that now.”  You hear typing.  He’s on your computer.

“I flex!”  You protest.

“Yeah, dummy.  You flex.  You just keep on flexing, and I’ll just keep on editing your life for you.  You won’t have to worry about being smart anymore.”

What the fuck?  What is happening?  Your mind is spiralling into panic.  You are smart.  You are in the top level of your classes.  You are getting all As.  You tutor people!  You – “I flex!”

“Looks like he’s trying to fight it,” the second nerd observes, pushing his glasses up on his nose.  “Man, his muscles are getting big … how long have you been doing this?”

“The whole semester,” he says.  He looks at you square in the eyes.  “Mostly while he was sleeping.  I doubt he even remembers when he started going to the gym.  Work’s really paid off, though, hasn’t it.  Big muscles.”  He walks up to you.  He touches a finger to your forehead, presses.  “Little, tiny brain.”  He laughs.  “You’re right.  He is trying to fight it.  Let’s just fix that while his add/drops are processing.”  He turns back to you.  “Bet you’re sorry you ever fucked with me, dumbbell.”

Don’t look at him in the eyes.  Don’t look at him in the eyes.  Don’t listen to his words.  Don’t let him –

“Bet you’re sorry you ever called me dumbbell, dumbbell.”

Don’t – no – 

His smirk.  His brief, short laugh.  His gray, gray eyes.

“Go to sleep, dumbbell.”

The tail of the slippery rope, vanishing into the darkness.  

The Bar Part 5 by markbufftree

The bar Part 5 – more guys are added

The muscled transformer had everyone enthralled in their hot male pursuit.

All the curious women left were now horny muscle fantasy dudes. All the men had beefed out and changed beyond recognition.

Personalities & even memories had changed with each guys wish.

3 of these guys used to be nerds and part of the LGBTI+ society. 2 used to be medic majors. Now the 5 were horny jock bros

These beef cakes are now 3 of the hot barmen. The two on the left used to be Tiffany & Honey before their over masculisation

The stud on the left used yo be Jenny a cheer leader & the hunk of meat on the right was an overweight bus driver in his 40s piercing on the cute young girls. Now these two’s bodies were locked in a passionate embrace, tongues deeply exploring their jock mouths.

The guy with the mic said…“we need some more entertainment. Let’s get the 4 fattest dudes in the club up front”. The frenzy started and all the guys who’d fallen prey to guys with gain fetishes ended up at the front.

“Man we need to fix this” he dollars through the mic. “First off, I wish all guys with gain fetishes were sexy young jock cocksuckers with desires of hot thick cocks.”.

“And second, I wish these dudes were now our sexy hot dancers for the evening.”

Their bellies shrunk into right cobbled abs, their arms bulked & chests pushed out, and their hoses thickened.“

The small cocked DJ was commanded to play some tunes and the guys started gyrating & moving to the beat. Their bodies shone with sweat & the lights went dim to show off their luminescent underwear.

The crowd went wild for the hot studs as they danced through the crowds, with every part of their body groped, squeezed & linked by complete strangers.

The transformer needed a piss & wandered towards the gents only to find a dude cowering in the stairwell. A geek in round glasses & fully clothed.

“Well, well, well. A guy who escaped the wishes”

“Please stop, don’t do what you did to them. I like my life, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me”

“Thank you have man, I wish you were now a thick muscled stud with no trace of hair on your body except your pretty face. I wish you were a house boy & trophy boyfriend to a muscle hound who lets you store your slutty self out in evenings to the highest bidder. Basically you pay the rest, clean the house, cook for your man, & he let’s you pleasure him after his hard day of work”

Please with how the evening was going he relieved himself. As he turned from the urinal he saw a stud watching him with lust.

“I wish your body was always fine, always ripped, always sculpted & always hot & horny”

The guy bulged a bit more & git down to pleasure him.

When he got back to the stage he had another thought.

“Do we have any drama students in the house.” A few twinks squeezed loudly & he picked one of them to come forward.

“Ok, you’re now an entertainer at this club. Always keeping your body built hard & ready to put on the show of your life. Gather round boys, Jo Jo’s ready to go”

And with that the transformer took a front row seat, wished for a couple of hunky guys to suck him off while he sipped his beer

The Bar Part 4

The bar Part 4 – the Party got hotter

Remember the story so far:? No – just look at my blog

The DJ transformed and blackmailed for the mic

The guys stopped from leaving

The bar tenders (whatever gender) being turned into hot nearly naked studs

The gym bros brought to the front and two turned into lovers

The girlfriend who objected and was turned into a cocksucking twunk

Every guy turned gay and all made to look at someone and imagine their perfect fuck buddy.

It wasn’t just the hot students now, but they’d transformed into the desires of the guys before them.

Everyone worked out hard at the gym, but there were a good few muscle DILFs on the floor.

This guy had been 22 and scrawny but now was an athletic DILF who spent his life in the gym

This former jock found himself the desires of a kid who’d always liked the friendly more average guy who was now completely into him. He still worked out, but a bit of fat didn’t hurt anyone and his new lover couldn’t get enough of his fur

Whereas this 40 something got bro’d out completely. Obviously this guy’s partner likes being licked out

This was Britney who was curious about the transformations. Now she was a hot fucking stud ready for action

It really was whatever they desired. You want to see more…?

The Bar Part 2 by markbufftree

The bar part 2

“Ok…so I want the gym bros who work out every day to come up to the front. No-one. Ok, I wish all the gym bros who work out every day would come to the front and strip down to their boxers. You’re all looking petrified. Ok, I wish you bros would love showing off your hot bodies”

“That’s it. You’re dude’s and this is what you do right.

Ok, so have any of you got girlfriends here tonight? You have, mmmm. well they might not like this bit. You two, you’re now really into each other. Start passionately making out. What you won’t just do it. I wish you guys are now completely into eachother, and even though there’s a shower of water pouring over your hot bodies, you know this is completely natural.”

One of the girl friends, ran up to the stage shouting “Ry….Ry…no…what about us?”

Ry turned round and said, “sorry babe, I’m into this guy now.”

“What’s your name love?” The wishing guy said.

“Like you’d care, you’ve turned my boy friend into a gay fantasy.”

“Not yet I haven’t – but that’s a great idea”

Ry you and you’re homo are now two hot bulging go go dancers

“No she cried”

And you my dear are now a hot twunk, who exists to suck dick.

The new guy looked down in disbelief, and then got hard at the site before him.

“right who’s next”

TBC….

The Bar Part 1 by markbufftree

markbufftreeThe bar Part 1

It was a normal night out on the town. Sean & Tina went into one of their favourite bars. After a grabbing some drinks they headed to the dance floor. Sean spotted that something was off. The DJ was being harrassed by this buff dude. It looked like he wanted to speak through the mic. One minute the DJ was a slim built swimmer & the next I swear he looked like a body builder. Then the guy whispered in his ear & the DJ shoved his hands down his pants and looked like he was about to cry. Resigned he let the alpha guy take the mic & the music stopped. “Yo yo, what up homos! I’m muscle Trent & all my wishes cum true. So I thought we could all have some fun. I wish no guy can leave this club until I say, although guys can still come in. Ladies it’s up to you really. Abandon the guys & all feelings you have for them, or risk becoming one.” Everyone looked confused. “For my second wish – I wish all the bar staff were hot, flirty, buff, well hung, topless, gay men”. There was a gasp as everyone turned & saw each guy expand, biceps, triceps, great pecs, shit eating grins on all of them. 4 of the staff had been women, but not with those sausages winging between their legs. “Now let’s get the party started” the music started & one of the transformed barmen leapt onto the bar and started dancing. “now to get all the gym goers up… Tbc