If You Had One Word - Just One Word - To Describe Yourself, What Word Would You Use?

Breedertfs Story Index

This author also went by the following names:

Hogtfs

Shapedbydesire

Stories:

A Bad Wet Dream

A better ride

A better son

Arabian Nectar

Drawn

Better use of a twink

Born to Breed

Born to be a father

Chet

Don't be a queer, be a breeder

Frat Boy Fantasy

OnlyWishes

Put a sock in it

Set free

Shady Unit

Stop babe

Stud Pride

What You Desire

Taboo

That Wish Stinks

Thrift Shift: Camo Hat

This post will be updated this week as I reposted/reblogged more stories.

Roommate Needed Six

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

After a few cold days to remind us it was October, the sun decided to come out one last time. It seemed that everyone on campus was making the most of the nice weather. Many were wearing shorts , probably for the last time and schoolwork was the last thing on everyone's mind. As I walked back from class, I noticed a group of five guys playing basketball at the public court. A muscular blonde with red and white shorts went for a long shot. The ball bounced of the rim towards the sidewalk and road. I stopped the ball from rolling into the street and picked up.

"Thanks man," said the blonde as he trotted towards me, sweat glistening down on his shirtless chest.

"Hey Luke," called one of his teammates. "Ask him if he wants to join in. Three on three."

"That's okay," I said as I offered him the ball. "I haven't played in years."

"You sure," said Luke as he grabbed the ball. He looked me straight in the eye and added, "I mean, it's such a nice day and all."

At that moment something stirred inside me. These guys seemed nice enough. None of my friends played any sports and I had always liked basketball in high school.

"What the heck," I answered, following Luke back to the court.

"All right! Thanks dude!" said one of the guys. "I'm Dave. You gonna go shirts or skins?"

"Shirts ... for now," I responded, feeling a little bit awkward. These guys were clearly gym buffs and I was far from it. Everyone on the team introduced themselves. I would be on the shirts team with Dave and Chris, against Joey, Luke, and Sean. We were evenly matched, except I was clearly the smallest guy.

The game began slowly, but as soon as I was given the ball, I felt a new sense of confidence in me. I dribbled past Sean and sunk a short jump shot. When I landed I felt stronger and faster.

"Nice shot," said Dave.

After a few more minutes of playing, I was starting to get into a groove, like I was in perfect form physically. Our team was beginning to pull ahead.

"Water break," said Joey.

The sweat had begun to run down my shirt, so I pulled it off. Underneath, I was surprised to see that I had no tan lines. I never went shirtless, so I was very pale, but today, I had a perfect tan. My body has also grown larger and thicker. My chest was thick with muscle and my abs were well defined. I used my shirt to wipe down the sweat.

"Alright, so how about you go over to skins, because we'd kill them otherwise. Just trade with Luke," said Dave.

"Cool by me, bro," I said, giving him a high five, surprised for three reasons. 1) I never used the word "bro" or gave high fives, 2) I hardly knew these people, and 3) I was completely relaxed being part of this team, like I had played with them for months.

We played for another hour, trading teams and just messing around. I had a couple nice dunks, since I was the tallest and biggest player. We gave each other high fives, fist bumps, and made crude jokes. By the end of the game, they had all taken to calling me Brett. Which as far as I could remember was my name. When we left the court to walk home, I had completely forgotten my life before basketball and these bros of mine.

Hey there! - I was accidentally daydreaming when I was searching for dude ranches, and ever since, this city boy's inbox just keeps piling up with invitations to them. No,no I didn't follow through with any of them, but I've been eying the flyer to visit a rodeo though. I'd love to be a badass cowboy, but I know I would stick out a mile standing next the real deals. Plus, I've been hearing strange rumors about what happens to rodeo protestors who get lassoed in the arena. Fuck it! I'm going!

While it was true that New You Industries was supplying the small, rural farming town of Hayside with special equipment, it wasn’t well known outside of the handful of people running the town’s rodeos. The organization that protested those same rodeos had so far lost two of their members to the town. The group believed them dead or in hiding, perhaps having been threatened. You believed you knew better though. The more bizarre circles you moved in online spoke about rumors of men turned into studs by the full moon, a police force with a seemingly endless supply of handsome, buff cops; and a shady corporation with advanced or even magical technology; but what interested you most was a series of posts claiming that the missing protestors were merely “assimilated” into the town.

There was only one way to find out if this meant what you thought. And so you arrived in the town in time for the next rodeo. Only a dozen locals sat in the arena. Along with a protester, sitting silently in the stands with a placard over their head, perhaps too afraid to vocalize given the mystery surrounding their missing colleagues.

The rodeo proceeded as one typically would, with the townspeople paying both you and the protestor little mind, until the very end at least.

“So, uh, how’d you enjoy tonight’s show?” asked the cowboy in the center of the arena, gesturing at the protestor.

“M- me?” the thin, young man replied.

“Yeah, you. Why don’t you come down ‘ere and tell us all what you wanna say?”

The man shuffled nervously.

“C'mon there, don’t be shy!”

Anxiously, the man got up and made his way to the arena, clearing his throat as he was passed the microphone. He barely got a word out before another handsome strutted out from the passage underneath the bleachers and threw a lasso round the young man’s chest.

“And how’s that, we got another one ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer chuckled as the dozen or so people in seats hollered and hooted, “Let’s get you outta here, city-slicker.”

You watched closely as the protestor was dragged out of the arena. But something was amiss. He thrashed and wriggled strangely and his mouth seemed to slacken. More of his legs appeared to be visible out the ends of his jeans and his arms looked swollen in his shirt. This was your chance, you had to follow, and so you did.

You waited a few minutes as the rest of the crowd filtered out while you slipped down to the arena and through the passageway. Grumbling and moaning echoed down the corridor as you quietly crept closer. Shouts and growls boomed out from behind a half-closed door. You carefully pushed it open before stumbling back at what you saw. The protestor was tied to a pole by the rope he’d been captured with, newly hirsute muscles and lengthy, thick limbs protruding through his slim-cut clothing. Though you never got a very close look at the man earlier, he was easily bigger in every regard than he’d been just minutes ago. Most impressive of all was the huge, hard, slick cock pressed up against his bulging abs, held there by the waist of his increasingly tight jeans.

He tilted his head up at you, breathing heavily with a charming smile on his freshly bearded face. He looked different; sharper, sunkissed, and rugged.

“Holy shit… I was right,” you muttered aloud.

And that’s when you felt a powerful tug around your waist before being smashing into the floor.

“Right about what? You didn’t come here with him, so why are you down here, city boy?”

The voice was deep and serious. You looked upward to see the beautifully rugged rodeo master standing over you.

“I… I want… you to do… that… to me,” you gulped, glancing back at the tied-up protester.

“My oh my, can’t say this has ever happened before,” the studly cowboy chuckled, his sinister tone shifting to one of amusement, “but if you haven’t noticed, it’s already happening.”

Everything had happened so fast that you didn’t even realize that it was rope lasso that sent you hurtling to the ground. It was at that moment you realized you were getting exactly what you wanted.

Sweat pooled onto the concrete floor while you tried to stand up, only to fall to your knees as every bone, tendon, and muscle in your body began to reconfigure. You moaned loud and uninhibited at the feeling of your spine stretching and your legs lengthening wildly. What you hadn’t anticipated is how intensely pleasurable it would feel. It was like every part that grew and shifted brought with it a powerful sexual edging.

“You people normally fight it, but I’m sure you can tell now there’s no point,” the redneck chuckled, tapping his boot against the raging tent in your tightening pants.

You held yourself up by your hands, the rope dangling from your waist against the floor. Arching your back with a groan, your arms grew longer, pushing you further off the floor. You watched in delight at your hands spreading out larger and larger against the dirty ground. The fingers stretched long and thick, the skin on your swelling palms hardening from farm labor.

Upward from your massive hands, your veins began to bulge. Holding yourself up by your trembling arms became easier and easier as your arms inflated with thick, hard muscle, stretching and tearing your shirt. Hair densified across your thickening forearms.

The growth spread through your upper body. Howling in ecstasy you ripped open the front of your shirt with your powerful arms, revealing the rapidly expanding pecs and abs underneath. You rubbed your huge, rough hands along the growing, hairier mounds. Memories flooded your brain, these weren’t the muscles of someone who worked out, these were formed by years of real, hard, manly work.

A sudden and forceful pulling in your feet forced you to flip onto your back as tightness in your shoes intensified. Removing them was no use, they were far too tight now. You could feel your feet mercilessly stretching against their confines until with a shred and a moan of relief, two long, wide, and hairy feet burst forth.

And upward from the huge appendages came more growth, flooding your thighs and calves with hefty, ballooning muscle and thick, manly hair. As your ass pressed outward, hairier and rounder, you felt thoughts of your past life draining away, making way for one of small-town living and honest, hard work. You gave a dumb smile as a short beard spread across your increasingly handsome, rugged face. Your hair became short and maintainable, while also accentuating your manly, country features.

“G- gosh… darn it,” you gasped in a thick, rural accent feeling your cock stretch and swell. You fidgeted with your large, clumsy fingers for the waist buckle on your pants, groaning deeply as you loosened it and allowed the swelling head of your cock to inch further and further out of the pants. You were so close it was almost unbearable. Your hips thrust involuntarily as your member throbbed larger, toward a glorious, thick nine inches; your balls aching as they too inflated. Then, with a gruff cry of pleasure, you came; spewing load after load across the concrete and marking the conclusion of your metamorphosis.

The cowboy, who had stayed to watch the entire process, helped you to your feet. The rope around your waist morphed as you rose, replacing your old belt with one significantly larger. Your pants morphed into tough, worn boot-cut jeans while the huge feet protruding out of the front of your shoes were quickly covered as the tattered remains shifted into a pair of size fifteen boots. Your torn shirt similarly repaired itself, though dirtier and muskier with a plaid pattern.

“Welcome to Hayside, rancher,” the rodeo master said, “You ready to get to work?”

Everything seemed like a distant memory now, you knew this was all brand new, but it also seemed so familiar.

“Yessir,” you uttered, your charming smile shining through your new beard.

Barbarian Dungeon

Written by cinaedefuri as commission piece for yuan99.

Originally posted on 06-02-2022

Have received permission from author to repost.

---

Chapter 1

No one who had ever ventured into the dungeon came back out. But the High Paladin Roland thought that he could best the dungeon and find out what was at the end of it. The dungeon had been around for generations, and legend had it that it was a breeding ground for barbarians. Occasionally, muffled moans could be heard coming from it, but the people in the villages close to the dungeon had scant other information to go off of.

Roland employed two more men in his party, technically three. However, Damian was just their supply boy. He had a sword to fight with and knew how to swing it, but other than that, he didn't add much to the party except carrying their gear. The other two members were Grand Wizard Yuan and Archpriest Lux. Although the three men had similar skill sets, Roland thought they were different enough to easily traverse the dungeon.

The four of them soon arrived at the dungeon and entered. Roland naturally went in first. He was 53 years old, but didn't look like it, being quite muscular for his age, and strong enough to carry his heavy armor. He had fought in many wars over the years and rose up to the rank of High Paladin thanks to his skills, not because his father was some influential figure in the community. His armor was a silvery white color, an expensive one to create, and it had gold trim, with actual gold flakes flecked all around it.

However, Roland was quite stubborn, and believed that his way was always the best way to do things because of his experience. While he wasn't outright mean to Yuan and Lux, he would be considered a bit arrogant in his dealings with them, especially as he saw himself superior to them in every way. Damian was a bit of a different story, as Roland constantly called him weak and inexperienced, while Lux and Yuan were only called weak. He loved to show off his skills whenever he could and was always first to the fight, even in this dungeon. As the self-proclaimed leader of the group, Roland had brought the team to the dungeon in the first place, as his desire to be better than everyone else led him to not heed the advice of many of his fellow paladins and not risk venturing into the Barbarian's Dungeon.

In stark contrast to Roland was Yuan, who was only 18 years old. However, he had an incredible knack for magic, and as soon as he could start doing it, he was winning competitions and battles left and right throughout the land. His intelligence wasn't just limited to magic, though. However, since magic wasn't physical at all, and learning all of the elements meant reading books more than fighting battles, Yuan was on the skinny side as well. He was also a bit of a loner, since during the time when most young men were making friends, he was off fighting magic battles. He also clashed with Roland often since the older man didn't want to take the advice of anybody, especially not a younger man. Yuan usually did know what he was talking about, but men like Roland just never seemed to listen to him.

He was also a loner because he was painfully shy, only getting through his initial conversations with Roland because of his high rank in the community. He was also a bit prudish and did not want to show off his skinny body at all. He had a few different mage robes on, actually causing him to look slightly muscular, when that was certainly not the case at all. His party mates, as well as most others in their society, saw Yuan as cold and serious, but that was because he was a bit awkward socially and what he thought of as "fun" wasn't what most people thought of as fun. He and Damian were actually good friends, being born only a few days apart from one another.

Lux split the difference between the two men. He was 30 and had blond hair, along with pale white skin. He rarely talked, having the ability to fully converse if needed, though, and he liked to stay to the side, only taking part in the action when it was absolutely necessary. Much like Yuan, he was quite awkward socially, which some construed as mean, even though that was far from the case. However, since he was an archpriest, Lux hated anything and everything that he saw as impure. He disliked men going shirtless, which was quite common for many people in their society who could barely afford food for their family after working all day. He never drank alcohol and didn't partake in any drugs unless explicitly told to by a healer. He was even more prudish than Yuan, with more robes than him and two pairs of pants under those robes as well.

Finally, Damian was an orphan, his mom dying in childbirth and his dad killed in one of the many wars. The people who took him put him to work as a farmer, which he enjoyed doing, but was excited for the thrill of exploring a dungeon. He didn't know what path he wanted to take in life, but he knew that he didn't want to remain a farmer for the rest of his life. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants that his adopted parents gave to him after it no longer fit one of the other children on the farm. He was also wearing underwear that would be called boxers in the far future.

The four men in the party were walking down a long hallway in the dungeon. Roland had already bested some creatures with some help from Yuan and Lux. Damian didn't have a map in any of the supplies they were carrying, but the hallway seemed to be straight for quite some time. As Roland took a step forward, he suddenly disappeared from sight. Poor Yuan didn't realize that Roland had disappeared until it was too late, and while it was a bit of a struggle trying to escape from the portal, he disappeared too. Both Lux and Damian had tried to pull him out, but ended up falling into the portal as well. All four men woke up in separate dungeons, each magically created to make the best trial for them.

Chapter 2

Roland continued to walk forward for a few more steps before he realized he couldn't hear his men behind him, and he was in an entirely different place. "What is the meaning of this!?" he said out loud, and turned around. Unfortunately, there was a wall just a few feet away, and despite pressing seemingly every part of it, it didn't budge. Roland would have to go the other way, where there were a bunch of men ready to fight him. All of them looked quite young, around Yuan or Damian's age, but they were much more muscular than them.

He approached the first young man, and surprisingly, all of them did not attack him at once. "At least these barbarians know the rules of war," Roland said to himself, as he took out his sword and began to fight. He thought that it would be a quick and easy battle, since he had decades of experience over these men. However, the battle was not as easy as he thought it was going to be, and he soon found himself on the ground, defeated by someone who could easily be his grandson.

"You were just lucky today, boy. I will defeat the rest of you," Roland proclaimed, as the next young man took his place in front of Roland, who had gotten up and recovered from his defeat. What he didn't notice was that because of his loss, some physical changes had started to take place. His skin started to get a bit more tan, and while his muscles didn't shrink, they stayed in proportion to his body, which was getting smaller and younger too. He then clashed swords with the next young barbarian.

He still had all of his knowledge of fighting and of the wars he had fought in, but despite his best efforts, it was clearly no use. He had lost yet another battle to a young barbarian that he was shocked even knew what to do with a sword like the one he was holding. "I will prevail!" Roland defiantly stated. "You men will not best me, do you understand!" The physical changes continued to occur, with every loss turning him more and more into the barbarians that he was fighting. Surprisingly, Roland didn't notice the changes that were happening, even when their effects were much more apparent to him. He knew that he was struggling a bit more than he normally did, but didn't think it was because he had gotten much smaller, for example.

It was after about twelve barbarians were now standing off to the side, having defeated Roland, that the physical transformations were complete. His skin was now the same color as the other men in the room, a dark ruddy tan color, and despite having the same amount of muscle of his body, he was struggling to support his armor now because of his smaller frame and younger body. It did actually give him the appearance of bigger muscles than what he had before, though. He was physically 18 now, but he was still acting like the 53-year-old High Paladin. As he got up to fight the next barbarian, he had a different aura around him. Roland could sense that he was the leader of this group of men.

"I may have lost all of my battles against your troops, but I will win this one and win the war!" he triumphantly stated, although he was getting a bit impatient. The battles that he lost had taken a while, and he still didn't know where the other members of his party were. He wanted to get this over with and find them. It never crossed the leader's mind that this was a test of some kind, especially since the leader would be the thirteenth barbarian that he had fought in a dungeon named after them.

"Isn't it obvious, Roland? You don't have the strength or the power to best any of my barbarians, let alone me! You don't deserve to wear your armor anymore." The leader then struck Roland's armor with his sword, with him not questioning how he knew his name. Roland tried to block it, but swinging the sword and lugging all of the armor around was proving to be a bit more difficult now. He was shocked when the sword caused part of his armor to break off.

"No, not my armor!" he whined, but it was no use. With every strike, more and more of his armor fell to the ground until he was left standing there in just his underwear, which happened to be a loincloth. The barbarian leader then placed his sword on the ground, and put his hands behind his head, exposing his pits. His fellow barbarians did the same, and soon the smell of their musk began to waft through the air. Roland had gotten used to the smell of musk, being a paladin for so many years, but what he didn't realize was that this musk had magical powers as well.

It was dumbing him down with every breath he took, causing him to lose his memories of his battles and how to hold a sword, how to be a leader and how to make a backroom deal for your gold-flecked armor. As his intelligence dropped, the musk was also making him more humble. It was a few minutes later when the mental transformation was complete as well, and Roland no longer thought of himself as "Roland." He was now Ral.

Ral was 18 years old and was considered a barbarian youth, in training to become a full-fledged member of the tribe. He still had his loincloth on, but that was the only thing he had on. He hadn't proven his worth yet, which would allow him to get equipment like boots and harnesses. Despite his ability to use a sword being erased by the barbarians' musk, it was actually replaced with the ability to use an axe in combat, which was quite different from using a sword, despite some similarities. Instead of looking down at the members of his party, he instead looked up to them, wanting to be just like them. After all of the transformations were complete, the barbarian leader moved aside and showed Ral a door at the other end of the room. He walked through it, and waited in the antechamber for the other members of his party to arrive before walking through the door just a few steps away.

Chapter 3

Yuan tumbled into his dungeon, as he was trying to save Roland from whatever was happening to him. Thankfully, he didn't tumble too far, or he would have fallen into a pit of lava. "What happened?" Yuan thought to himself, knowing that there had to be some kind of magical explanation for this. He cast a spell to get rid of the lava. He waved his staff, and nothing happened. He tried again, and still, the lava bubbled and was a crimson red, not the water he was hoping it would turn into.

"Your magic doesn't work here," said a voice from above. Yuan looked up and saw a barbarian youth on one of the many towers sticking out from the lava. He was wearing nothing but a loincloth, and was quite muscular. "However, if you can reach me, then you will be freed from this dungeon and you will be able to use your magic again." The barbarian then expertly hopped to the next tower as Yuan figured out where the closest tower to the edge was. The first couple ones he could walk on, or take a step and land squarely in the middle.

Unfortunately, the next towers were all a bit too far away even for someone as limber as Yuan was. The many clothes that he wore certainly were not helping matters, and he didn't want to take any off. He decided to just take a leap of faith and jump to the next tower, since it was thankfully level with his platform, just a far distance away. As he had feared, his robes and underwear didn't allow him much room, and so he fell into the lava. He expected to be burned and preemptively cried out in pain, but instead he felt his body hit the floor.

"You have failed the first test," the barbarian said, from across the room. "Even though the lava wasn't completely real, it did have some effects." Yuan looked down, and was shocked by what he saw. Not all of his clothes were gone, but most of them were. He only had one layer left on, a thin layer that left little coverage. He instinctively covered himself up with his hands, even though everything sexual was still covered and was in no danger of slipping out. "You can still catch me and get your magic back. It's even less of a challenge than it was before!"

The barbarian ran away again, and Yuan tried to chase after him. Unfortunately, he wasn't too keen on letting his hands down, and he didn't want the barbarian to see his cock flopping around. That meant he was awkwardly moving forward, barely moving an inch with each step. Naturally, he was never going to catch up with the barbarian that way, and the barbarian had other plans for Yuan. Some plants appeared in Yuan's way, looking kind of like a venus fly trap. He was able to push them out of the way with his body, but the plants retaliated at him, spitting some kind of acid at him.

Much like the lava, the acid wasn't truly acid; Yuan's skin was left unscathed. However, it did still have some effects. Most of Yuan's shirt was burned off, and the parts that did remain changed as part of the effects of the acid. The cotton seemingly became leather, even Yuan not understanding how the process actually worked, unless the plant was magic as well. The shirt was also burnt in such a way that it ended up becoming a leather harness on him. However, it was a bit too big and barely stayed on his body as he continued to try and catch the barbarian.

His pants were also sprayed on by another plant that had popped up only a few feet away from the other one. Yuan's body still wasn't hurt, but this time around, his pants were completely burnt off, leaving him in just the harness and his underwear. As he had feared, his underwear changed as well, but he could see why a new plant was needed. Instead of being cotton, the underwear was now made out of fur, and enough of the underwear had burnt off as well that it could accurately be described as a loincloth now. Covering himself up now was no use.

"Please, let me use my magic and let me cover up again!" Yuan whined.

"It's quite simple, adventurer. All you need to do is reach me, and then you will escape and your magic will be restored. And since you don't need to worry about covering up anymore, I can make this a bit more fun again!" The barbarian spread his arms wide and the dungeon changed once more. This time, it turned into more of a maze, with three distinct paths starting where Yuan was standing. The barbarian's voice could still be heard loud and clear at the end of whichever path he was on. "I'll be waiting for you at the end!"

Yuan decided to take the middle path first. All three of them looked exactly the same, and he wasn't sure how he was going to remember which path he had taken already. However, all three paths had the same fruit at the start of it. Yuan could take a bite and then spit it out to mark his path. He found it a bit gross, but that was his best option right now with his lack of magic. He picked up the fruit at the start of the middle path and took a bite. He got ready to spit it out, but instead swallowed it.

It was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life! As he took another step forward, he took another bite of the fruit. While he didn't spit any of it out, he quickly realized that once he backtracked, the fruit on the other two paths would be waiting for him as well. Of course, the fruit was its own kind of trap, although it didn't seem like it at first. Its addictive qualities were causing some changes in Yuan, noticeable changes. With every bite that he took, he gained a bit more muscle.

The harness on his chest was starting to get tighter and tighter, and the skinny wizard was now gaining abs for the first time in his life! His arms and legs were getting bigger and bigger as well, and even his ass was gaining a bit more muscle. Despite the addictive qualities, the fruit didn't do anything to mask its changes to the eater. Eventually, Yuan did notice that he had been gaining muscle unnaturally fast, and for someone as smart as him, he quickly realized that it was the fruit. He threw it down the path and turned around, hoping that this path wasn't the one that led to the barbarian.

However, against all of his better judgment, he found himself running to pick up the fruit again and took another bite, even after it had been on the maze floor again. Yuan knew that it was wrong and that this was a trap now, but there was nothing he could do about it. He did stop walking through the maze, eating and gaining muscle in just one spot now. By the time the fruit was finished, the harness and loincloth were even tighter on Yuan's body and he rivaled the size that Roland was now, if not much bigger.

The walls of the maze retreated, and Yuan noticed that each path he could have taken would have led him to the same point. So the fruit really was a trap. "I see someone really enjoyed the fruit that I laid out for you. You couldn't put it down, right? Well, it'll help you catch me much easier now, so I'll have to make it a bit more of a challenge again." His arms were spread out once more and the towers from before returned, only this time, slime was on the ground underneath them. "Come and catch me," the barbarian taunted, as he jumped to the next tower.

Yuan was ready this time, as despite the loincloth being tight, it still provided a lot of freedom. He was easily able to bound from tower to tower, and he was catching up to the barbarian quickly. However, it couldn't be too easy for the muscular grand wizard to catch up to the barbarian, so Yuan watched in horror as the tower that he was jumping towards retreated back into the slime. There was no way that he could reach another tower in time, so he fell into the slime, and unlike the lava, he actually fell into it. It did have a similar effect to the lava, weirdly enough.

Instead of clothes, though, it was Yuan's hair that was removed. The slime seemed to collect the hair on top of his head and all over his body. Surprisingly, Yuan had been quite hairy, which even the barbarian was shocked by when his clothes were being torn to shreds. The barbarian himself only had some hair on the top of his head, and he watched as Yuan struggled in the slime until all of his hair was completely removed. As the dungeon became flat again and devoid of slime, Yuan had a glow about him now, almost like he was permanently covered in oil, thanks to the slime.

"Well, you're certainly looking good now, adventurer. But I have a few more tricks up my sleeve." The barbarian didn't actually have any sleeves, and the dungeon didn't change too much this time around. The only difference was that some spots were now brightly illuminated by the light outside, or some other source of light. The chase was on again, and Yuan was smart enough to not step into the sunlight, of course. He bobbed and weaved and was once again catching up to the barbarian. He expected his foe to play dirty again, but since he had no magic and didn't use his staff offensively and the barbarian was too far away for combat, he couldn't stop him.

Yuan soon found himself in the middle of a bright spot he knew was not there a second ago. No matter which way he ran, it was only getting bigger and bigger. The trap, of course, had a secondary effect, and Yuan watched as his skin darkened. Unlike with some of the other men who stayed out in the light too long, his skin was not turning red. Instead, it was turning Black, like some of the men in the local tribes. His skin was a deep Black color now, almost ebony by the time the sun spot closed and the barbarian laughed. "You have been quite the worthy adversary, adventurer," the barbarian noted. "So, you just have one final test to pass before you can complete the dungeon and you can have your magic back."

He moved his hand to the side, and a table with two vials of liquid appeared on it. Before he even said anything, Yuan knew that it was going to be a trap. "You're going to say one of these contains my magical essence, while the other one is going to be a trap. However, I know they're both going to be traps. You're not going to fool me, barbarian!"

"I see you are a very smart adventurer. You have a truth spell in your arsenal, do you not? Here, as a sign of good faith, I'll allow just enough magic for you to cast that spell." Yuan then felt a light tingle in his body, the same he had felt when he first started practicing magic. He didn't want to waste it on trying to get out of here by other means, so he cast the truth spell on the barbarian.

"The spell is now in effect."

"The left vial contains your magical essence, adventurer. The right one is the trap." Yuan smirked as he uncorked the left vial and swallowed the solution. He expected to feel the tingling sensation in full force again, but instead, he dropped to his knees, his head in serious pain. "You really thought your magic would work in this dungeon, adventurer? We know of your kind and made sure you thought you had your magic back. As you correctly assumed, both of them were traps!" The pain was so severe Yuan couldn't do anything else but remain on his knees as the effects of the trap took effect.

One of them was a drop in intelligence. Yuan was the smartest one in the group before, but now he had become the dumbest. However, his ability to use magic was not completely removed. He now had the ability to use the same magic that this barbarian had, since he was becoming a barbarian himself. He called himself a shaman now, not a grand wizard. His name didn't change, and he now knew that the oil that seemed to constantly be on his body was his source of mana, his power, and for someone like him, the oil was an innate substance that he secreted.

Additionally, Yuan found himself much more horny now. In addition to becoming a shaman, he was also a barbarian breeder. All of the good men in the barbarian tribe carried that title, as they were blessed with large cocks and were all quite horny. They were the ones who helped the tribe to grow. The barbarian then showed the new Black barbarian the door that led out of the dungeon. Yuan walked through it and arrived at the antechamber just seconds after Ral did. Both men were not shocked by the dramatic changes to the other's appearance.

Chapter 4

"GAAAAAHHHH!" Lux screamed, as he fell through the portal and into a different dungeon than his fellow adventurers. However, calling it a dungeon would be a bit of a stretch. While Lux clearly wasn't outside the dungeon yet, it was like he had stumbled upon a small encampment of barbarians just lounging around and living their lives. Unfortunately for Lux, these men were doing everything that he disliked. For starters, absolutely none of the men in here had shirts on. "Where are your shirts?" he asked one of the barbarians, and before bothering to get an answer, he cast a spell.

Even though he was mostly a healer, he did know several other spells, including one that would make clothing appear. However, he tried casting it a couple times, but to no avail. Another barbarian stood up, this one wearing nothing but a small pair of briefs with his bulge quite prominent. "Your magic does not work here, adventurer. But ours continues to do so." Lux was a bit puzzled by what the barbarian meant. He could barely look at him because of how obscene he was. That meant he was looking down at his clothes, and watched as two layers of his clothes suddenly disappeared.

"What's the meaning of this!?" he screamed out, and to his surprise, the barbarian talked back, although he avoided answering the question.

"Your challenge is quite simple, adventurer. All you need to do is remain here for one hour. After exactly one hour, the door to leave the dungeon will open up, and you will be free to go. It would be best if you kept an open mind throughout the hour, though. Your thoughts will curse you during this time period. The time begins now." A sundial then appeared in the group of barbarians, with clear lines marked for the start and the end of the hour.

"Oh, this will be so easy," Lux said to himself, as he sat down and began to wait. For the first couple of minutes, he thought about his life before stepping foot in the dungeon and the stories he would tell when he was able to leave. However, it didn't help that no matter where he looked, the barbarians were shirtless, and some were in tight loincloths or briefs that left very little to the imagination. He knew he shouldn't think about how indecent they were, and while he dared not say it out loud, he couldn't help but to think about it and grimace at the barbarians.

He soon felt a cool breeze on his chest, his nipples especially bearing the brunt of it. As he had feared, the curse was very real, and now he had no shirt on. Some of the barbarians laughed and snickered in his direction, but Lux didn't react, although he really wanted to. He didn't want to become one of those people. Unfortunately, in trying not to think about it, it only made things worse. Being shirtless was one thing, but some men were practically naked in the loincloths they were wearing. He knew what would happen if he thought about them, but if they would just cover up!

Seconds after thinking that, Lux cursed himself as he too was wearing a loincloth now. It was white with some blue gems towards the top, and actually covered a fair amount of his groin, all things considered. He despised the clothes he was now wearing, but knew that most of his temptations were gone, and the rest of the hour would be smooth sailing. However, it wasn't just their dress that Lux found impure. Nearly all of the barbarians in this camp were drinking alcohol. Of course, Lux could simply see that they were drinking that, and nothing would happen. He really did try not to think about how bad it was for them and all of the terrible effects it would have on their lives.

But even a kid was drinking it! He didn't speak up still, but he couldn't help but think of how messed up that was. There were no obvious outward changes after he thought about drinking alcohol, but now he had a strong desire to drink some. In fact, it was so strong, he walked over to the leader of the group and asked him for some. "Hmm, I didn't know that archpriests like you drank alcohol. But here, I have a special drink just for you." Lux accepted it, and it smelled like alcohol at least. It also vaguely tasted of it from the few drops he had accidentally drunk whenever there was a bar fight at a tavern he was staying at and a drink had been thrown in his direction.

As a result, he didn't suspect anything was amiss as he chugged the drink, craving the alcohol now. He didn't get drunk, and in fact, this was mild alcohol anyways, meaning that even the young barbarian kid wouldn't get drunk as fast. But this alcohol was imbued with something else. As he got his own pitcher of alcohol and a cup to bring over to the area where he had been waiting, Lux didn't notice that his muscles had begun to grow. He had very lean muscles that were usually hidden under layers of clothing, and only exposed now thanks to these barbarians.

But as the minutes of his waiting period passed, Lux was getting bigger and bigger, his muscles from his neck all the way down to his legs increasing in size. His pecs were no longer flat but jutted out from his body a fair amount, and their width also increased dramatically as well. Eight abs formed on his stomach, all clearly delineated and chiseled too. Both his hamstrings and his biceps looked like footballs had been inserted inside of them now, and his ass got much more pert as well. Even Lux's cock changed, growing in length and girth dramatically. The loincloth was now barely covering his groin.

He did eventually notice the changes, and thankfully, thinking about them didn't cause him to get even bigger, to become a muscle monster of sorts. He was still conflicted about the changes to his body and to his clothes, but he had to admit, being a muscular healer would probably have some positive side effects, even if he needed to get bigger robes to hide his new bulk. There was about a quarter of the time left between the two lines, and Lux wondered how he would explain all of these changes to the party when he encountered them again. However, the barbarians weren't done having fun with him. As the kids and younger members were moved back into the tents and other buildings, some of the other barbarians came out and started having sex right in the open. They were pretty loud too, but Lux knew that they were definitely testing him now, and so thought about anything else but the sex happening in front of him.

He even closed his eyes as well, but it wasn't long before all of the sound effects got to him, the slapping of balls against ass and the slurping of cocks, not to mention the moans and groans. "STOP!" he bellowed, but naturally, none of the barbarians did. He wondered what was going to happen to him now. This wasn't really a physical change, but more of a mental change. In addition to his addiction to alcohol, Lux loved having sex now. In fact, that was pretty much all he could think about. His libido went through the roof, and his cock got rock hard watching the sex happening in front of him. He hoped that he could join in, but it wouldn't be long before the door was open. His balls were now churning with copious amounts of cum as well.

Lux had turned into a barbarian pleasure giver, a distinctly different class than a breeder, although he was also a breeder as well. However, his class wasn't all about having sex; in fact, he was one of the many healers of the tribe. His cum had many medicinal properties now, and in addition to cumming on the wound, the afflicted could also swallow his cum or get bred by him to be healed as well. His blonde hair remained, but as part of the previous muscle growth, his skin had also gotten much more tan, slightly darker than Ral's skin now. Despite being a healer, he was still incredibly horny, barely able to think about anything other than having sex now, which he would do often when he wasn't healing.

The door to leave the dungeon then appeared a couple minutes later, but this time around, something, or more accurately, someone, was blocking it. It was not a barbarian, although it did have a humanoid appearance. Lux walked over to it, slightly turned on by it and also leaving the dungeon on autopilot. "Lux, it is my honor to bless you with the power of Pleasuriae," the god stated, as Lux was bathed in a white light tinted with gold. It only served to make him even more horny. Pleasuriae was the barbarian god of pleasure, and they blessed all pleasure givers with their gift. Lux soon stepped through the door and arrived in the antechamber, none of the three men noticing the changes in their fellow adventurers still.

Chapter 5

Damien, of course, wasn't much help in rescuing Yuan at all, and he tumbled in his dungeon even more strongly than Lux did. In sharp contrast to the dungeons of his fellow adventurers, Damien's dungeon could more accurately be described as a hallway, just like the one he had just been in. However, the walls were made out of an entirely different material, and there were recesses in the wall at equal increments for as long as the eye could see. Damien found that despite his tumbling, there was a wall almost directly behind where he was standing, so he had to walk forward.

He passed the first recesses and noticed a bust in it, the same one on both sides. He was quite shocked when they spoke to him, considering he didn't recognize who they were meant to represent. "Be blessed, young adventurer, with the clothes of a prince." Damien was a bit puzzled by what that meant, but as he looked down, his clothes were changing dramatically! His shirt had all but disappeared, being replaced with a leather harness. It would have shown off his pecs if he had any, but as it stood, it was a bit loose right now.

His pants seemed to shrink, eventually turning into a loincloth that covered his groin. It was quite small but still covered everything that it needed to. Additionally, he was given metal arm guards to protect his lower arms. While they were secure around his wrist, the guards were still a bit big and clattered around a bit as he walked forward. Damien was now wearing shoes for the first time in his life, fur boots appearing on his feet, high-quality and comfy fur boots. The clothing changes had all happened by the time that he had reached the next busts.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the pecs of a prince." Damien knew what was probably going to happen next, and so as he slowly stepped forward, he was looking down at his pecs. He had barely had any muscle definition before, but now his pecs were getting bigger and bigger by the second. It took a few seconds for them to reach their new size, and the supply boy now had pecs that he could easily lay some crops on to carry them around. His nipples grew in size to match his massive pecs too, and they got extremely sensitive, although Damien wouldn't know that for a bit. He soon reached the next one.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the abs and legs of a prince." He looked down and watched as eight distinct abs began forming on his stomach. Damien had been skinny enough to be able to feel his ab muscles for a few years now, but they had never gotten this chiseled before and he had only seen them pop out that far on a couple men. His legs also gained a lot more muscle and got quite toned, easily able to support his new massive frame.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the arms of a prince." Damien watched as his arms, especially his biceps, got bigger and bigger. Damien's biceps were his biggest muscle group before all of these transformations started to occur, thanks to being a supply boy and working on a farm for so long. However, that didn't stop his biceps, triceps, and other arm muscles from growing huge. In fact, his arms could no longer hang right by his side; his obliques and biceps made it so that he was forced to have a wider frame at all times.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the groin of a prince." Damien looked down and felt as his flaccid cock was getting longer and longer by the second. His loincloth didn't grow in size to match, so soon enough, his mushroom head was plainly visible as he walked, and he added a fair bit of girth as well. This was all still completely flaccid, and it wouldn't be long before he experienced an erection with his new cock. His ass was no longer flat, having gained a lot of muscle as he walked down the hallway. He now had what would eventually be called a bubble butt, and a big one at that.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the looks of a prince." He wasn't exactly sure what was meant by that, since he had just undergone quite a bit of magical muscle growth. There were no reflective surfaces in the hallway to show it off, but one change was to Damian's hair, making him blonde and growing it out rapidly to reach his shoulders. His face also got more angular and striking, and his eyes became a piercing blue color. He was also blessed with the perfect amount of armpit hair.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the weapon of a prince." This was not some kind of metaphorical weapon that would instead make his balls bigger or something. A war ax appeared in his hands, just slightly bigger than he was now, which was certainly saying something. It barely fit in the hallway as it was, but Damien knew exactly how to use the weapon now, despite Roland not trusting him with anything bigger than a scythe.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the libido of a prince." Damien didn't know what "libido" meant, but he did feel wave after wave of pleasure wash over him as his libido skyrocketed. His cock was getting hard at just the thought of having sex, and he was able to see just how massive his erect cock was now. He could see why they thought of him as a prince. Despite him being just as horny as Lux was now, Damien wasn't as focused on having sex, at least he would be soon after passing the next busts.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the leadership of a prince." Damien also wasn't sure what exactly would change because of that, but that solidified his mental changes. He now thought of himself as prince of the barbarians, and unlike the other roles given to his fellow adventurers, there was only one prince. He knew that he was both the leader of the small group of barbarians venturing the dungeon under him, and leader of all the barbarians. He was especially interested in his youngest party member, Ral.

Despite there only being a couple years' difference between the two of them, Ral still had a lot to learn, and Damien was going to take him under his wing. He would help Ral get as big as the other barbarians were, and naturally, sex was a huge part of his training as well. With his princely transformation complete, he stepped through the door at the end of the hallway and arrived at the antechamber. He didn't stop walking, Ral, Yuan, and Lux following suit behind him as they walked through the other door and into the barbarian utopia.

None of the four men had any memories of who they were before they stepped foot in the barbarians' dungeon. Ral had always thought that that was his name, and that he was a young recruit and not some grizzled war hero. Yuan's changes weren't too dramatic in some senses when compared to his fellow party members, but it would no longer bother him to be practically naked and dripping with oil with every step and he always thought that he had been a Black man. Lux had no memories of trying to fight and reverse the changes made to him. In fact, he was much too horny to remember what he did yesterday, let alone what he was like five or so years ago. Even Damien had no memory of who he used to be, even though all of his changes were positive.

"The prince has returned! The prince has returned!" announced the barbarians close to the dungeon as Damien and his party stepped out. Many of the barbarians came rushing over to the group, and it wasn't long before a muscular oiled man who looked quite similar to Yuan stepped forward and knelt in front of Damien.

"We are blessed of your safe return, Prince Damien. Your reward for traversing the dungeon and protecting it from outsiders will be ready shortly. Do you wish for your current party members to join you, or would you like to pick three other men?"

"Ral, Yuan, and Lux have all gone through a lot with me. They deserve to be rewarded as well."

"Very well, my prince. Please, follow me." Damien and his group, along with a group of shamans all walked over to one of the many temples the barbarians had erected. As soon as Ral entered, the door to the temple magically closed, barring any other barbarians from entering and partaking in the pleasure.

Chapter 6

The group then walked into the middle of the temple. Summoning lines were written on the floor, and there was enough open area for four men to stand. The shamans took their place outside of the lines, making sure that they would not offend the gods by accidentally partaking in the reward. Damien stripped first, knowing what had to be done, and he showed off his enormous cock to all of the shamans and his fellow party members. While cock size wasn't the reason he was made prince, if it is, he would still be the barbarian prince. Yuan and Lux both had impressive cocks as well, but they paled in comparison to Damien's. Even Ral's cock was bigger than the average male cock in the twenty-first century, but much smaller than all of the other party members'.

The lead shaman then began speaking. "We call upon the powers of Pleasuriae to reward Damien and his party members for successfully keeping our lands free of invaders!" The shamans then began chanting in a language all four new barbarians seemed to know innately, but was foreign to them just earlier that day. Pleasuriae came up often in the chants, and a minute or so later, the chants ended. The smells of musk and sex permeated the air, and Lux felt a familiar presence as Pleasuriae appeared again, this time overlooking all four of the men and the shamans who summoned them.

"Welcome, Prince Damien, and his fellow party members. It is my honor to reward you for successfully protecting our community once again. You will be blessed with insatiable horniness for twelve hours, even greater than the horniness Lux has coursing through his veins now. You will be able to cum immediately after cumming, and you will never tire until my blessing has passed. However, that is not all. There is one final challenge, and one of you will win it regardless.

"The barbarian who cums the most shall receive a special reward. They will be blessed permanently with the abilities given to you during this reward session. The cum does not need to land on a party member's body or inside of them; it simply needs to come out of your cock and it will be added to the total. I will be watching the orgy the entire time, and whoever is the winner at the end will feel the same way even after the reward has finished. And yes, even our breeder Lux is able to receive this reward."

With that, Pleasuriae disappeared from the dungeon, but not after the effects of his blessing took place. All four men immediately got rock hard within seconds, and all of them were looking at each other with lust in their eyes. However, even in their horned-up state, they still knew the hierarchy they had, and so Damien sat on the ground as Yuan and Lux took turns sucking on his cock. Ral sat off to the side, furiously stroking his cock as his prince was pleasured. None of the four men had had experience in gay sex before, but with their transformations into barbarians, it was now second nature to them.

Damien had ejaculated twice and Yuan and Lux had each done so once, jerking off as they were sucking their prince off, before Ral was finally allowed to have a turn. To show deference to his prince, he crawled over to him on his hands and knees before opening his mouth and sucking on Damien's cock. Damien was the most inexperienced out of the bunch, though, and in fact, his blowjob didn't last too long. Damien didn't even get to cum before pushing Ral off of his cock. "Show me your hole!" he bellowed, and the young barbarian-in-training did just that.

What Pleasuriae had neglected to mention was that their assholes were also self-lubricating during this blessed period, and that would remain for the winner as well. Although lube wouldn't be invented for thousands of years, the barbarians used spit and other similar liquids so that their anal sex would be easier. Despite the self-lubrication, Ral's asshole was still quite tight, only having recently started his sexual training. Taking his prince's behemoth cock was probably not the smartest choice right now, but he was too horny to care.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" he moaned, as Damien pressed his cock up against Ral's hole before it finally slid in. Yuan and Lux were jerking off at first to the hot breeding happening in front of them, but soon realized that they could have some fun together. They were of equal standing in barbarian society, so they quickly decided that Lux would fuck Yuan first. Lux was probably the most horny barbarian in existence right now, and he desperately wanted to feel his cock inside of another barbarian's hole.

As for Damien and Ral, the prince was slowly pushing his cock deeper and deeper into Ral's hole. Thanks to the self-lubrication, it was much easier to get more and more of his cock inside, but he had just barely made it halfway before it started to get more and more difficult. He did love a challenge, though, filling up one of his fellow barbarians with his enormous cock. Ral was moaning and panting the entire time, and his body was covered in as much sweat as Yuan usually was as he took more and more of his prince's cock.

Meanwhile, Lux was fucking Yuan like a rabbit. Once he was inside Yuan, his desire to breed as part of his role in society just took over, and it was barely a minute, if that, between his cumshots. Yuan certainly didn't mind getting filled up by Lux's seed, and he was stroking his cock the entire time, getting the temple floor covered in his cum as his ass was getting filled by Lux's. Eventually, the two of them decided to swap when Yuan's hole was leaking out cum and there seemed to be no more room inside of his cavernous hole.

Damien was still taking his time breeding Ral, although the young barbarian had ejaculated a few times from the pleasurable sensations he was feeling with such a big cock inside of him. Both men moaned quite loudly as Damien's balls finally slapped against Ral's ass. The prince's cock was so big that it actually made a faint bulge on Ral's stomach, and once Damien was in all of the way, the fucking could really pick up in intensity. Sweat was dripping onto the floor and the smell of sex and musk was even stronger in the air as it didn't take long for Damien to deposit the first of many loads into Ral's hole.

As Damien was getting himself balls-deep, it was Yuan's turn to fuck. In addition to having a cock that never seemed to quit, Lux's hole was already pretty wide and had a permanent gape, even before the blessing and on top of the self-lubrication. As a result, it only took a few thrusts for Yuan to go balls-deep as well, and it actually made it easier to hit Lux's prostate as well, as Yuan was easily able to line up his cock. This caused both men to cum quite frequently, and Yuan too filled up Lux's hole, but it took quite a few more cumshots to do that.

Eventually, Damien tired of fucking Ral, although he didn't completely fill him up with his load yet. He and Yuan switched partners, as he loved fucking the breeders, and shamans were just a smidge about breeders in the hierarchy anyways. It wasn't difficult at all for Damien to fuck Lux, although quite a bit of Yuan's cum was still inside of his hole. However, that just provided some easier lubrication, and it wasn't long before Damien was dumping loads inside of Lux as well. A small puddle had started to form around where Damien was fucking thanks to the numerous loads that Ral and now Lux were pumping out.

As for Yuan, even his cock was still too big for Ral's hole, despite the prince opening it up a bit more. Ral's moans were the loudest in the temple as Yuan pushed his cock in deeper and deeper. However, thanks to the loads from his prince and the self-lubrication already, it didn't take as long before Yuan's balls slapped against Ral's ass as well. He spewed the first load out of his cock not even a minute later, and the puddle of cum around this area was even bigger and deeper even, all thanks to the insatiable horniness of Lux.

Eventually, Lux's hole was filled up with cum again, and it wasn't long before Yuan had done the same to Ral. Poor Ral was forced to remain a bottom as Yuan finally bottomed again, this time for his prince. Lux was excited to breed again, especially with an impressionable young man like Ral. Yuan knew that even though he was second-in-command in this group, he still had to defer to the prince, and besides, he wanted his prince's big fat juicy cock inside of him. He got on his hands and knees and pushed some of the cum out of his ass as the smell of musk and sex in the air got even stronger.

In fact, it was making the men so horny that Yuan started to lap up the cum on the temple floor as Damien began to breed him. The prince just chuckled as he fucked one of his shamans, his favorite shaman. He knew that it probably won't be long before Yuan joined the shamans on the outside of the circle, summoning the sex god and their blessing instead of partaking in it. However, he quickly turned his mind back to fucking, and it wasn't too long before he added his loads to Lux's.

Lux was having the time of his life breeding the young barbarian-in-training. Thanks to his standing as a breeder, his body had a different reaction to the tight and likely virile hole Ral possessed. Even after factoring in both blessings from Pleasuriae he had received, Lux was still even more horny than the other three men, since someone like Ral would have the best chance of reproducing and giving birth successfully as well. He deposited quite a few loads into Ral's hole, literally cumming within seconds of each other sometimes. Unfortunately, due to the combination between top and bottom, Ral's hole was filled within minutes, and the two of them stopped having sex and watched as Damien continued to breed Yuan.

Since Yuan's hole wasn't filled up with as much seed, especially after he had pushed some out, Damien could fuck him for quite some time. The puddle of cum was surprisingly so high that it covered Yuan's fingers now as Damien finally shot his last load into Yuan's hole, his cock slipping out as well because of all of the cum inside of it. But despite both bottoms being filled with cum right now, there was still quite a bit of time for the blessing, and they had only fucked doggy-style so far.

The four of them fucked in several different positions and they continued to suck each other as well, tasting just as much cum as had filled up their holes by the time the blessing was complete. They didn't just focus on anal and oral sex, though. There was some more worshiping involved, body worship and even musk worship as well. Damien naturally was worshiped the most, but even he took part in worshiping Yuan and Lux's sweaty, musky, muscular bodies as well. Ral was not worshiped during the blessing, but he did get turned on worshiping all three men above him in society, and also in height too. Just before it was set to complete, Pleasuriae appeared and lightly chuckled before speaking. There was a literal layer of cum plastered all over the temple floor, the party members had cummed so much. The smell of musk, sweat, and sex was so strong that it was quite noticeable even outside of the sealed temple walls, and all four men had cum leaking from the corners of their mouths, assholes, and cocks, not to mention dripping with sweat.

"It would appear as though that this has been a bountiful blessing. I hope all of you have enjoyed it, and I hope to see you, Yuan, here again soon, unfortunately not in the middle of the room again. But on a wholly unrelated note, it is, in fact, Yuan who had ejaculated the most during the blessing. He will continue to have the benefits of the blessing, which will likely help out with his magic. Thank you for this bountiful offering as well." Pleasuriae then slurped up the cum from the floor, swallowing every last drop as the blessing ceased.

Lux returned to a less horny state, but still hornier than Damien and Ral were right now. Yuan continued to feel the same way, although his mind wasn't as clouded by sex and horny thoughts as they had been, although it was still a lot of what he thought about. The four men then put their clothes back and the shamans opened the door to the temple so that they could all walk out. Yuan walked away with the other shamans, all of them glistening in the sunlight thanks to the oil on their bodies. Lux found himself drawn to the breeding tent, where men and women alike came to get bred and hopefully produce a younger barbarian. As for Ral, he soon found the other barbarian youth that were of age, and began training with them once more.

A barbarian with a scrying bowl rushed over to the prince, dressed a bit more conservatively than most barbarians, but not by much. "My prince, another party has entered the dungeon. When would you like the process to start?"

"I'd like to see the information we gathered first. I want to see what kinds of barbarians we're turning these four men into." Damien loved turning adventurers into barbarians, and their land was right next to a very gullible group of men who always seemed to want to prove their worth by successfully completing the Barbarian's Dungeon.

Beach Bod

Rusty’s favourite thing about being home was the beach. Well, maybe not the beach itself - but certainly what was on the beach. And that was, as it usually is for horndog college students, the copious amount of shirtless boys.

Rusty’s parents had invited him to spend the weekend down at the family beach house - a proposal he’d eagerly agreed to. His first semester of college hadn’t gone exactly as planned. In fact, Rusty had already accumulated a list of crimes committed against his freshman year: his roommate was a homophobe, he’d somehow lost weight, and his grades were plummeting faster than his metabolism. He needed a break - and a weekend spent in the unadulterated, midyear sunshine might be just what he needed to get back up on his feet. 

So there he was, waddling up the driveway in his flip flops with fluorescent zinc already smeared on his slightly crooked nose, and a spritely grin plastered on his equally as crooked jaw. With a beach towel flung over his slim shoulders, Rusty was looking forward to a one-man, 48 hour paradise; a weekend spent on the sugar-sand beach just a short distance from his bedroom, soaking up the mid-summer coastal sunshine and sizing up the bountiful amounts of hunky blond beef that would no doubt be lining the shoreline, glittering like seashells. As the old saying goes: if you hold a conch shell to your ear, you can almost hear the sound of a surfer dude moaning, “Fuck me harder, bro!”

Rusty nudged open the door to the house and called out for his parents. His soft voice echoed through the open floor plan, bouncing between pockets of coastal furniture. 

No response. Huh. 

He checked the living room, the kitchen, called up the stairs. Still no response. He figured they’d already beat him to the beach - which meant he was all alone, horny and heat-fuelled. Perfect. Rusty whipped off his shirt, shimmied into his board shorts and reached for a beer.

He dropped his bags by the door and made his way over to the veranda, which seemed to be beckoning his name with every warm breeze that blew in through the open sliding doors. The hardwood deck was stark with heat, and the sun beat down on him as he shaded his face to get a good look at the view. It was a prime vista of the beach, and the water was as glittery as the sand it lapped at. He couldn’t see his parents… But he did see a whole lot of something else. Men. Lots and lots of shirtless men. 

Rusty’s itinerary was pretty standard: stare at the crevice between the big bouncing pec’s of some adonis in a speedo; admire the way sweat and saltwater, a concoction he’d dubbed beach-boy-brew, dripped down a surfer boy’s cum gutters; and ogle at the sand dollar sized nipples of a bronze boy-toy too big for his own good. Oh, and if he could be crushed between the thick, rolling thighs of a strawberry-blond titan with the strength of the ocean, that would be pretty rad, too. Just the simple pleasures of any good summer getaway, really. And on a hot weekend like this one, Rusty was certain he’d have no problem ticking them off his lascivious list. 

He could see a few groups of collegiate hotties already partying on the sand, tanning and drinking and looking generally sexy. A football flew threw the air, the smell of testosterone wafted up the sand. He felt his grip on the veranda railing weaken as one of them began drunkenly gyrating his bubble butt against the air as an unimpressed group of girls walked by.

Rusty could see it now: the entire coastline would soon become a sprawling panorama of empty heads and beefy muscle, just aching to bend over and get eye-fucked. For a jock, the heat tended to act as an aphrodisiac: a stupefying, steamy somnolent that washed away any desire to put clothes on and instead amplified an innate, irresistible desire to show off. No well-bred stud could resist the urge to strut bulge-first down the runway of a busy beach. Every buff blondie within a ten mile radius would stuff his bubble butt into a speedo, lumber into his dad’s open-roofed jeep, and cruise down to the ocean - one paw on the steering wheel, the other on his crotch. Revving his engine. The heat would feel too good on his golden skin not to, flaunting his premium goods and soaking up the rays. Photosynthesising, preening, growing. Of course, he’d make a pitstop along the way to pick up his platoon of linebacker buddies, packing the backseat with brawn, their off-season quads fighting for room on the hot leather seats. Deltoid to deltoid, like canned sardines. Huge, hulking, steroidal sardines. They’d turn up the radio, tunes pumping, pecs bouncing to the trap style beat. Cockily flexing their biceps for a group of girls in a passing convertible, waggling their overly long, thick tongues at the flustered beach bunnies, miming vulgarities. Eager to impress. Rusty didn’t blame them. Having an uncontrollable libido and shoulders twice as broad as your waist when you’re young and dumb and impossibly full of cum would turn anyone into an exhibitionist — and anyone close enough into a hopeless and drooling voyeur.

Rusty had spent many summers sat by the water, ogling and drooling until the sun was low in the sky and the sea of blond hunks had receded with the tide, sand sticking to their tanned bubble butts as they staggered back up the coastline to hit the bars and get even drunker. Turns out, 19 inch biceps and a cleft chin work just as well as a fake ID. All it took was an absent-minded flex, a slow lick of the lips, or a strategic, innocent bend-over, and the doors to every bar and club on the boulevard flew wide open. If only one of them had extended a hand and asked Rusty to join them - or pulled down his speedo, popped his pecs and ordered Rusty to fuck him. Either would’ve sufficed. 

But hey, maybe this time one of them would. With Rusty’s lanky physique and unimpressive features, it was pretty unlikely - still, a dork could dream. Surrounded by steroidal blondies, Rusty had always felt like a washed-up stalk of seaweed. When all his hometown peers were prodigal bodybuilders with movie star jawlines, it was difficult not to feel inadequate. You couldn’t walk down the boardwalk without some bronzed-out bro giving you a boner. They swaggered to and fro, their bulging shoulders too big for their pretty little heads, no care in the world. His dad always seemed to have a permanent twinge of disappointment etched into the corners of his face, his dreams of having a football hero for a son dismantled by the tech major Rusty had become. He’d often dreamed of what seeing the world from over six feet tall felt like. He’d often dreamed of his father throwing him a football, and catching it with an arm bigger than most peoples heads. 

A large sea swell broke over the sand, and Rusty watched as the golden frat bros lumbered down to the water (their bodies too big, too clumsy and too inebriated for it to qualify as running, though he guessed that was what they were trying to do) and dived in after it, covering their muscles in sparkling sea foam and rubbing it into their abs like soap on a washboard. Rusty glided a hand over his own pasty torso, lightly dusted with hair and sunken inwards. He took a long swig of beer.

Rusty turned back to the living room, the sound of the waves dimming. He saw something flapping in the breeze on the coffee table. He hadn’t noticed it on the way in, but somebody had left a note.

“Dear Rusty… Sunscreen’s in the garage. We’re trying out a new brand. Give it a go. You’ll like it. - Dad”

Huh. Alright then. Rusty couldn’t conceive of a sunscreen special enough to elicit its own foreboding note, but his dads writing always came off a little ominous. Truncated sentences. No personality. Scary. 

Rusty followed the big mans orders, flicked on the light in the garage, and was greeted by a familiar sight. It was filled with his father’s workout machines, rows of dumbbells and weights lining the walls. Before he’d moved away for college, his dad was always trying to coax him into the home gym with fancy new equipment. He must’ve kept buying them - the place looked like a certified fitness centre. Rusty figured he’d put the sunscreen by the weights in a final attempt to get his pip-squeak son interested in working out. How very subtle. It was sat on one of the weightlifting benches, and he weaved his way through the machines towards it. 

The bottle had almost no labelling - it didn’t even have a brand name. Rusty pressed down on the nozzle, and a big glob of the stuff shot into his hands, creamy and white. It was surprisingly warm, and the texture vaguely gelatinous. It smelt good, too. Like musk and sweat. His horndog brain waltzed into the room with an intrusive, albeit sexy thought: it was a lot like holding a handful of cum. 

Rusty applied a liberal amount of the sunscreen to his whole body, diligently smearing the zinc infused jizz into every pore - noting with lip-biting surprise how good, and oddly erotic, it felt on his pale body. It was kind of turning him on. In fact, there was a strange and pleasurable buzz emanating from his skin everywhere he applied it to.

Rusty reached for his cock, lubing it up with sunscreen, only half aware of what he was doing. Aw, fuck. He barely stifled a moan. Not because of his achingly horny brain, or even his needy, stiffening cock. The buzz had evolved. There was a strange, static warmth in his hands that was quickly blooming into a crackle of fireworks, shooting up his scrawny digits with hot pleasure. Fuck, what was in that stuff? It felt like his fingers were on fire. Had his dad mixed up the sunscreen with some sort of weird sex lube? Did he want his son to blow a load all over his workout equipment? Rusty’s cock was rapidly engorging with heat - and, weirdly, it kind of felt like his fingers were too. 

He felt a sudden pop in his knuckles, and Rusty opened his eyes just in time to see his index finger shoot out in length and explode with size, a quicksilver rush of pleasure accompanying the birth of the dildo-sized digit. He stared at it, slack-jawed. An involuntarily groan escaped his lips as his middle finger followed suit and lurched longer, shooting out in length and then thickening up with meat like a pier-side hotdog. Holy shit. Rusty stumbled back in shock as the next finger joined in, and then the next, the bones cracking longer and the muscle thickening. He shook his hands, trying to shake off the extra beef, but each of his fingers gleefully continued to fire off, exploding with size like red hot sticks of dynamite, bursting outwards and swelling thicker. Both his hands began to bulge bigger in unison, pulsating outwards, palms stretching wider as his knuckles cracked to make room for more growth. Rusty watched as the pale skin on his hands shimmered like the sparkle of a breaking wave before deepening to a golden tan and suctioning down onto two thickly veined, hulking fists. 

Rusty quivered, slowly bringing the gargantuan mitts up to his face. They were still twitching with growth, buzzing and inching slightly longer. Holy shit. Somebody had attached a bodybuilder’s hands to his lanky wrists. 

Rusty tentatively wriggled his fingers, testing their new size, watching the meaty soldiers bend to his will. He almost started drooling. Fuck. These babies belonged around a football, or a dumbbell, or a throat, or a cock. He’d absolutely dwarf all of them. The thought of making any of those things look small in a single grip was almost enough to make his hips start bucking, but the transformation of his hands from wimpy to stud-sized had completely robbed Rusty of all motor control, and all he could do was marvel at their utter maleness and try not to freak out. He imagined he looked like a total weirdo, waving around these huge, cartoonishly out-of-proportion hands on an otherwise puny body. Shit - what was he supposed to do about the rest of his scrawny self?

Wait a minute. Rusty whipped his head around to where the bottle of sunscreen sat on the benchpress. Its innocent packaging stared back. Shit. It was the sunscreen. For just a moment, Rusty wondered how his dad had gotten his hands on some kind of growth-inducing miracle cream. But then, a much more pressing thought entered his head. The hole at the tip of the nozzle seemed to wink at Rusty as he realised he’d just smeared the creamy substance all over his entire body. Oh, fuck. 

Rusty threw his head back and moaned up at the ceiling as he was hit by a wave of oceanic bliss. Currents of tingly pleasure coursed through his arms as they suddenly shot out and extended several feet to the ground, hanging off his shoulders like pool noodles. Rusty whined in pleasure - he could feel his knuckles grazing the floor. He wriggled his thick new fingers, moaning as they continued to bulge even larger on the cool concrete, now big enough to jerk off a giant. His left leg trembled with energy, then rapidly elongated, sending him straight towards the ceiling as he grunted and moaned in combined shock, confusion and pleasure. He wobbled this way and that, his disproportionate body caught in a riptide of ecstasy, before his right leg detonated and lengthened down to match its neighbour, allowing him to surf the wave of euphoria with just a bit more balance. Rusty arched his back and moaned, and with several pops his torso began stretching longer, as well as his neck. His tongue lolled out in glee as he felt himself rising upwards, being stretched taller than puberty ever allowed, inching closer and closer towards the garage ceiling. It was as if he was being pulled at both ends by some invisible, horny force, eager to turn him into a freaky wet dream. 

Rusty grinned down at himself, his neck spasming and inching up even longer. It lurched upwards like one of those inflatable palm trees - he wondered for a moment if it wouldn’t stop, and he’d end up shooting through the roof like a cartoon character - but his body only remained disproportionate for a moment, as his other limbs stretched down accordingly and evened him out.

A ripping sound alerted Rusty to the state of his ginormous feet, which were in futile competition with his flip flops, barely holding back against a pair of widening soles that had sneakily accelerated with growth and doubled in size while he wasn’t looking. A little left behind, he wriggled his toes as they popped out longer, bulging in a race to keep up with the rest of him. Rusty couldn’t help but laugh as the asynchronous growth suddenly coalesced and crescendoed with power, both feet swelling to the conferred stud-status of his hands, and finally destroying his shoes like the mythic Hercules outgrowing his willow-leaf sandals. 

Fuck, this was getting good. His body had clocked in at a cool six-foot-four, tall and tanned, and the high felt far from over. A heady rush had slowly filled his brain, a steady stream of gaseous, dumbing pleasure — and the sunscreen had only just decided to turn it up a notch and rev its tingly magic.

Rusty felt a cascade of tingles rush through his left arm, and he groaned as his bicep pumped itself full of muscle, swelling instantly to the size of a beach ball. He flexed his arm and watched the muscle ball up, thick and hot — and then watched as it grew even thicker and hotter. A puff of blond armpit hair exploded out from under it, which tickled a little but mostly sent a shock of sex down his spine, while the brawny peak above it continued to rise like the swell of a tidal wave. Rusty threw it up behind his head like an amateur model, almost hitting himself in the eye with his bicep as it suddenly inflated so big it connected with his ear, which only spurred the growing boy on as he began flexing like a stripper on a birthday card, revelling in the feeling of his arm growing so thick and huge it pushed into the side of his head. The sheer weight of it caused Rusty to wobble to the left, and, wishing his body would even itself out, with a sharp pop and a grunt, his right arm dutifully exploded with brawn, quickly growing to match the size of its beefed-out brother. Rusty whimpered as the growth rushed down from his shoulder and into his hand, another poof of golden armpit hair bursting out from under it. The size of his right arm seemed to overshoot its target, and his fingers popped out bigger at the end so as to remain perfectly in-proportion. Fuck, he had a pair of king crab arms! 

Rusty grunted, a sudden tectonic shift sounding in his shoulders. Oh, shit. He was pulled in two directions at once as his shoulders rapidly broadened, deltoids rushing away from his neck with anatomical abandon and widening his silhouette into an imposing mountain range of male breadth. His deltoids rounded out into armoured caps of muscle, and beneath them Rusty felt his arms lift up and fan out as his traps unfurled like wings, whimpers of pleasure echoing off the walls as the muscle stacked itself up in undulating rhythms. The pressure of the growth forced his hands onto his hips, and he thrust his lats out into a wide flex as muscle bloomed across his back, cracking and shifting into an impossibly broad V shape. He lout out a huff, feeling twenty pounds heavier and horny as a bitch as the tingles sparked on his skin like he was a walking beam of light. He flexed his guns as his shoulders stretched further outwards, boom, boom, unable to process the sensation of hitting a double bicep and feeling cannons of muscle jump to attention.

A gurgling groan caught in Rusty’s throat as it swelled from base to tip into a thick trunk, the tingles cascading down from his collar and into his chest. He felt his nipples harden, like a warning sign, and then a surge of energy enter into his tits. He looked down at them with a scared whimper as they lurched out a whole inch, and then another, and then another, pulling his whole body forwards with them. Another heave of muscle and his feet were covered by their burgeoning mass, the force of their growth momentarily closing the deepening crevice between them as they pushed against each other, striations trembling like surf over a reef. His nipples tingled like lit fuses, and he hoisted his meaty hands up in a desperate attempt to rub and squeeze the growth out, his eyes widening as they shot out bigger in-between his fingertips and bloomed into dark, fat caps, sensitive and raw, nipples you could suck on. The muscle shelf beneath continued to inflate like two water balloons connected to a tap, pumping bigger with each bounce as he wobbled clumsily. He had a despicably big rack. The kind of chest a dick would disappear in-between. He groped and groped the twin slabs of meat, feeling the pressure build, like someone had suddenly turned the tap onto high. It was too late to brace for impact as they suddenly exploded in a final oomph of size with such force that it knocked his head back like a sucker punch and sent him careening backwards onto the weight lifting bench, falling onto it with a thud. He laid there, face up, his chest heaving up and down, a pair of huge, enviable muscle tits.

Rusty stared up at the empty weight rack, his back cracking wider on the warm leather, beefy pecs obscuring the lower half of his vision. God, he was so top-heavy, his gorilla arms hanging off the bench and onto the floor, thick and heavy. He lifted his head up as best he could, feeling a steady stream of tingles rush down his torso, and wriggled as each of his abs popped into existence, a perfect 6 pack blooming across his midsection. He fingered them with his meaty digits while cum gutters swooped through his waist and tributaries of veins reached up from his groin to meet them.

Rusty writhed with pleasure, and out of his slim, cinched waist burst a pair of big, titanic thighs that ripped out the bottom of his board shorts and swelled huge with muscle, first in rippling grooves that carved a roadmap of teenage surfing into his bodies history, before quickly ballooning outwards into legs composed purely of thickness and size. He felt them inflate and spill out over the bench - man-spreading would now be compulsory - and used the extra strength to hoist his upper body up and into a sitting position, straddling the bench with his now behemoth thighs. It wouldn’t be possible to walk without these tanned, off-season, columns rubbing together - they were the kind of legs that spread out and dominated any surface they blessed their hairless, heat-filled mass with. He chuckled dumbly at the thought of swallowing any space he tried to fit himself into, so thick he’d been rendered human cargo.

A shockwave thrust his ass out behind him as he felt his cheeks inflate to the size of beachballs, sending a loud rip straight down the back of his board shorts. A long slither of his juicy, growing butt crack pressed into the tear, his glutes swelling huge and round, threatening to bust his shorts open completely. Rusty panted, riding the weight lifting bench like a dick, gripping the leather with his hands, arm muscles bulging in full relief. The boy’s butt was obscene, expanding out behind him into two tanned spheres of category 5, tropical muscle as he gyrated against the warm leather. He whipped his head around his beefy shoulders to watch the bouncing cheeks expand into a high shelf, a permanent jockstrap installing itself into his musculature. With a surge of tingles, Rusty leaned forward, gritted his teeth, stuck his ass out behind him and groaned in relief as it shot out through the back of his pants, exploding the fabric into strips of polyester confetti and swelling in naked celebration. Warm air instantly hit his hole, and he trembled as a bolt of tingles ran straight down his taint and lightened the flesh to a boyish, peachy pink. He gripped his muscled cheeks and pulled them apart to reveal a tight jock hole, tingling with desire. Fuck. 

Rusty thrust his hips forwards with the oceanic power of his muscled ass as he felt his balls churn and swell beneath him, tightening the remains of his board shorts around them with their expanding size. They pumped up into tennis balls, which in turn fed the sea cucumber he could feel his dick becoming. The fabric instantly gave up the fight as his sweaty, monster cock burst free from its confines and landed with a hefty smack on the warm leather, continuing to grow thicker and longer, unabated by swimwear meant for wimps. A waft of his manhood travelled up to his nostrils, and Rusty saw sparks. Shit, his cock even smelt big.

Rusty wriggled his nose as the delicious musk seemed to fill it up to the brim with tingles. It felt like he’d shoved a firework sparkler up his nose. He took a deep breath in, and then —

Achoo!

The bones in rusty’s nose instantly reshaped. The bridge cracked broader and the tip snapped perfectly straight. Rusty felt it twitch, and went cross-eyed watching it suddenly bulge bigger, growing huge and almost phallic on his otherwise unchanged face. He reached his sausage fingers up to touch it, and then, like a shockwave, the changes rippled out from his big nose and into the rest of his features. 

His whole head grew to match, lips popping bigger and forehead widening. He grimaced as his jaw broadened into a chiseled square, two angles jutting out from beneath his ears which simultaneously popped bigger. He grabbed his chin as it pushed forwards and expanded, moving his fingers apart as it turned into an ocean cliff of male geometry. Rusty licked his lips as they plumped up, feeling all the extra realestate of a big, beautiful mouth, while his cheeks became cut but ruddy and plump, a cherubic innocence that betrayed his otherwise lewd proportions. When he flashed a smile, his teeth shone brilliantly white and perfectly straight. His features had quickly masculinised into a mosaic of surfer boy good looks. Fuck, he was hot. 

A single blond hair dropped into Rusty’s vision, followed by a wave of golden fringe that cascaded down onto his forehead. He ran his hands through what he could tell was a beautiful mane of beach-bleached hair, and as he did, any darkness that remained turned to streaks of blond lightning with the brush of his huge fingers. He couldn’t tell, but his eyes had washed over into a sparkling blue. He was a total blondie. A maritime warrior, built for the ocean.

Rusty panted. Having grown a new face and body in a matter of minutes, he should have been exhausted. But he wasn’t. His pants were sexual, not sleepy. They dripped with erotic and kinetic energy he’d never felt before. He wanted to rip a can of beer open with his bare fingers and then shove them up some frat boys hole. And then shove them up his own. 

Rusty clambered up from the bench, feeling stacks of muscle follow him. His hair bounced in perfectly placed streaks. He looked down at his new body, at the heaving pecs that glimmered with pearlescent shine. He looked like he’d come straight from the ocean. Oh, god. He was gorgeous. The sunscreen had oiled him like a machine. Rusty, more like busty, he thought with a grin, bouncing his heavy pecs. He’d been turned into a  certified hunk. He spun his behemoth body around, craning his neck back to get a good look at the twin bowling balls that jutted out from behind him. He couldn’t stop touching himself. His hands were grabbing and groping at every new bulge, pawing at his edges, gripping… 

… the bottle of sunscreen. Without even realising it, he’d picked up the creamy formula and was holding it in his paws. It looked much smaller than before. As he stared at it, something flashed in his cerulean eyes. 

It smelt good. It felt good. He almost wondered what it tasted like. 

Before he could even consider the consequences - as if his new body had decided for him - Rusty lifted the bottle to his plump lips and chugged it down like a drunk frat boy fellating a keg. With his big wet mouth wrapped around the bottle, its transformative contents sliding down his throat, a smidgen of panic knocked at the door of Rusty’s brain and asked him, in a feeble voice, if he had any idea just what the fuck he was doing. Rusty slammed the door in its face and tore the knob off, crushing it in his gargantuan grip. This was going to fucking rock. 

He sucked the bottle dry - no, sucked the bottle off - groaning deeply, and the moment the white, creamy fluid hit his stomach, a neon-pink wildfire of rapture raged through Rusty’s nervous system like a lustful armageddon. Every neurotic emotion he’d ever felt in his entire life was filed away, replaced by a pyrotechnic explosion of rewired neurones, their microscopic dendrons flexing and growing like biceps, pumping dopamine like a set of weights. It was filling his bloodstream, his balls, his brain. Rusty was ablaze. 

He tore the bottle from his fat lips with a pop and ripped out a belch, his eyes rolling back into his head as he began to uncontrollably moan. Rusty’s entire body convulsed with pleasure, excess sunscreen dripping out of his mouth and down his chin like a satisfied slut after a good blowjob. He fell to his hands and knees, his body jerking in every direction. Rusty felt his back spontaneously arch and his gargantuan bubble butt stick straight up into the air behind him, being forced to gyrate in a please-fuck-me twerk. It was like he’d been possessed and made to act like the worlds biggest golden retriever, begging for a treat. He was drooling saliva, sunscreen and pre-cum onto the floor, his brain flooded with backed-up pleasure and pressure, a leaky faucet that was about to explode.

It went straight to his groin. Rusty involuntarily started bucking his hips as he felt his already sizeable balls tingle like mad, then swell and drop, quickly growing into a pair of huge, pendulous bull nuts. He looked down to find he was now sporting a pair of big fucking man balls, atlantean pearls, and actually felt them begin to churn with new and improved jock seed. The sensation was incredible. It began to drip from the tip of his purebred cock, creamy and concentrated. It was almost too much. Rusty quivered in hot delirium as an overwhelming sensation hit him at both ends, and too much became not enough, as the overgrown beefcake felt his throat widening and his asshole tightening. His balls swung beneath him as his throat stretched bigger and his hole constricted tighter, both ergonomically redesigning themselves to deliver maximum pleasure to beach-boy sized cock. One meaty hand stuck itself around his bulging neck as it thickened and grew, his gag reflex disappearing, while the other desperately groped at his fat, eminently pound-able ass cheeks, the gilded entrance to a tight hole that was getting tighter. 

His bellowing moans grew deeper with each vocalisation of his blossoming hunkhood, roaring in undulating ecstasy, a testosterone-drenched baritone booming out of his once-shrimpy throat. His adams apple swelled with unabashed ambition as the sunscreen coated his throat until his voice was as deep and powerful as the ocean, shaking the garage walls. 

Almost involuntarily, like a new jock-slut instinct hitting his thick skull, Rusty plunged a sex toy sized finger into his ass, gasping as the walls of his hole constricted around it and pulsed with pleasure. A long, deep, drawling groan oozed out of his lips as he realised he’d just coated his insides with the growth-inducing sunscreen, and he felt his finger begin to bulge bigger inside of himself, filling his virgin hole with its increasing size.

Aw, fuck. The impossibly sweet sensation caused Rusty’s tongue, which was coated in sunscreen and tingling like a motherfucker, to shoot out of his mouth like an unfurling party horn - surprise! - and the newborn hunk almost went cross-eyed watching it slap down past his superhero chin, thick and meaty and much longer than he remembered. Shit. He was huge.

Rusty suddenly felt a deep and strong tug at the end of himself, and immediately became aware of the porn star cock throbbing with hot need between his horse-heavy legs. With all his mental processes, Rusty seized it between his oversized hands, roared with lust, and began jerking himself off. He shoved his finger deep inside himself at the same time, quickly sinking into an expert rhythm of jackhammer speed - in and out, up and down - totally unaware through the heavenly stupor that he was now ambidextrous. 

Oceanic pressure flooded his system - his cock felt harder than obsidian as globs of warm magma pre-cum began to bubble and overflow from the tip. His finger was the size of a dick, fucking his prostate better than most dicks ever could. Rusty bellowed deeply as the pressure peaked and his cock couldn’t take it any more, vibrating with pleasure as the damn exploded and an eruption of jizz rocketed out of him. 

Load after load jettisoned out of his demigod, blond cock, covering his dad’s gym with his hot cream. It fired off like the nozzle on a bottle of sunscreen, arching in thick spurts of sex. He painted the room white, the smell of cum and man strong enough to put a beard on a boys face just by inhaling it. 

Rusty lay there, panting. His hands absentmindedly fondled his balls, his voice a low, unfamiliar growl. There was the sound of metal, and then the feeling of sunlight moving over his gargantuan form. He shaded his face with a thick forearm, and looked to see the garage door sliding slowly upwards. The silhouette of a man was being unveiled as it rose, and before it reached the man’s neck, Rusty could tell it was the shape of his father. He was holding a football.

Behind him, the beach sparkled with sun. A warm breeze blew in, and Rusty blew his load all over again.

Born to be a father

--- Originally posted on 2024-07-10 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

I'm a gay man in my early 20's. I know I'm young but I keep having these thoughts.....or this desperate need to be a father. I don't understand where it's coming from.

That's your body telling you how things are gonna be now, bro. This is your new normal.

It's in your muscle memory - even if you claim to have never wanted to be a breeder before now. This urge to spread your seed has been lying dormant in your DNA, just waiting for your desires to waken inside your throbbing cock and for the hunger for wet pussy to cloud your rational mind. Don't you love the way I talk about women and their bodies? The way the men in my stories just can't help but to suck on a pair of fat, bouncing tits? How their thick, slobby tongues want nothing more than to slide between some wet, slick pussy lips?

Imagine the squelch, the squirt, the sound of her high pitched moaning. The way her eyelids will flutter when you unleash your hot, thick load inside her.

You're rock hard, bro. Don't deny it. Your hips buck with pleasure, your package feels so fat and hot, your wide cock head rubbing the fabric of your underwear with each needy thrust you make. The young gay man who made his home inside your mind finds himself surrounded by a sudden harem of hot women, blondes and redheads and brunettes, all with their huge breasts exposed and their greedy fingers between their juicy thighs. This makes you moan in the outside world, your boner raging as you continue to gyrate, your work pants growing taut around your much stronger, hairier legs.

"Yeah, you like that, bitch?" an unfamiliar voice speaks from your lips, bristles of dark hair framing your strengthening jaw. Your hands grow larger and callused, reaching out in front of you and gripping around the waist of an imaginary slut. Your eyes turn dark and brooding, your once youthful face growing older and more grizzled. The strange voice continues to deepen and shift as you moan, your arms growing thick with muscle as your larger fingers pretend to reach towards a pair of jiggling tits. You swear you've never touched a set of breasts before, but your new body can conjure the feeling so easily, as if you were just squeezing a pair the very night before. Perky nipples under your fingertips, jiggling flesh in your palms. It's so natural. "Fuck. Tell Daddy what a needy whore you are."

Your once trendy hair pulls back into your scalp and darkens, becoming a close cropped masculine hairstyle. Your work clothes become more professional, colorful pastel shirt becoming a simple short sleeved blue button up, your khakis fading into simple denim. You're a straight man, after all. You don't feel the need to dress up or stand out. You just feel the need to push your cock into a wide open cunt, to feel the pussy juice accepting your shaft and allowing your nine inches to slide right in. Your nuts swell inside your underwear, full of virile seed that desperately wants to be fired into a waiting womb. You moan again, drool sliding down your stubbled chin, your expression taken over by primal lust.

The former you is still trapped inside his mind, staring at the group of women that have him cornered. To his horror, he watches as the moaning bimbos begin to cry out louder, reaching their soft hands up to grab their breasts as each of their tits begin to swell with milk. The old you watches in horror and amazement, all these big boobed beauties suddenly taking it to a new level, but your awe settles into shocked terror as suddenly all of the women begin to reach down to their stomachs, which begin to rapidly inflate as pussy juice squirts and runs down their trembling legs. In a matter of seconds, your fading former self is trapped with a harem of pregnant women. Everywhere you look is a wet cunt, a fat tit dribbling milk, a pair of kissable lips sighing a moan.

The old you doesn't stand a chance inside the mind of a breeder. He begins to shake, his image blurring and beginning to fade, all of his youth and former goals burning away to make room for the superior man who has made your body his home. Inside and out. This is you. The women in your mind are just memories of former and future conquests alike, an endless sea of women that will swell with your seed and raise your children. Nothing turns you on more than this. You have found your purpose in life.

And there's no shame in that. You want to be a father because you were quite literally born to be a father. And now, my dear friend, your new body is going to make sure you have no choice but to be fruitful and multiply.

Better clock in those hours at your new office job. You're gonna have a lot of hungry mouths to feed - and no shortage of women to impregnate.

Aronik

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2017-12-03 ---

I was a bit of nerd growing up. Actually, I was a complete nerd. Round red pimples dotted my face. Chalk white skin covered my body. Bulging stubborn fat covered my torso and thighs. Taped wireframe glasses hung on my large bird nose. I was quite the looker.

That all changed one day at the beach. I dreaded going to the beach. Where I'm from, the beach was the only place the good looking people ever went. Their tanned skin, taut muscles, sun kissed hair, glowing confidence all annoyed me. It was totally because I was envious of them. My parents urged me to come with them, and I obliged because what else would I do. I hadn't any friends and although going anywhere with parents at my age was social suicide, I was buried long ago, along with my social reputation.

Anyway, this time was different. I brought a hat and kept my shirt on to avoid the ridicule of the jocks I KNEW were going to be there, like Austin Keller, the hottest guy at school and the object of my affections since fourth grade when we shared my Crayola 64 pack. He didn't know who I was anymore but under my hat and with my book covering my face I would stare all day long at his glistening smile and big muscles bouncing in action. My parents urged me to go to the water and I finally obliged when I foot hit a hard object on my way to the waves. It hurt like a train on a track so I bent down and picked up what looked to be a small golden bee.

Suddenly a man appeared and smiled, saying "Hiya! Aw thanks man you found my statue!" I was perplexed and before handing it over asked why he had this weird idol with him. He responded "I use it for a little shoot I'm running. Thanks for returning it though. Here's a little something in return." He handed me a Speedo and continued, "If you want you can help me by modeling these. Just go into the changing room and swap out your shorts for these. I'm sure they'll look great on you!" I had a humble three inches down there, and my love handles were already spilling over my current shorts, so wearing these would be even more of a reason for the jocks to humiliate me. I gave the guy a deadpan look and he reassured me: "I swear it'll compliment your look. I'm looking for people with... unique looks... so I know you'd be the right fit."

There was nothing to lose so I waddled over to the changing rooms and swapped my shorts for the speedo. The second I put them on a wave of exhaustion came over me. I collapsed and passed out in the room. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but notice how I felt. Lighter, to say the least. I looked down and noticed my shirt was tight against my stomach anymore. In fact, I didn't even have a stomach anymore. The second I put my hand, my skinnier and tanner hand, on my stomach I felt nothing but abs and tight skin. I took off my shirt and was struck by the sight. Caramel tan skin adorned my body, covering round strong pecs and a tight six pack. I looked down at my legs and noticed their impeccable definition. The speedo fit me perfectly and showed off my butt, originally large because of my fat, but now tight and muscular. My arms were no longer chicken wings but huge with trained biceps and triceps that flexed with ease. I finally glanced at the mirror and took in my new face. My new sharp eyes pierced right into my soul. My nose looked brand new, as if I had gotten the best rhinoplasty in the world. My defined jawline was so defined. My plump lips pouted and made me look so. fucking. sexy.

I wanted to check out my new package, but there was a knock at the door. "Hey pal, enjoying the speedo?" I heard a familiar voice say.

"I've never felt better." I replied, hearing my new sultry deep voice for the first time. I opened the door and met the guy, who proceeded to take me down to the water for the photo shoot. As I posed, I noticed Austin not so subtly gawking at me. I offered him a wink and instantly saw his hard on. Let's just say the changing rooms were in need of a clean up after our little session.

--- Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

Caption 3 - Wednesday

For today’s caption, due to many of y’all requesting that I write this particular kind of TF again, I will be using more photos than just the one that @mystrangetfs provided. You can view that image here!

Have you been keeping up with his stories? Here’s his latest caption! He’s going above and beyond, folks. This has been as much of a treat for me as it’s been for y’all. I hope you keep enjoying what we have to offer!

Stud Pride

Emily was a prodigy.

She was the valedictorian of her high school class, first chair flute, captain of the debate team, and a state-qualified cross country runner. The girl had a lot of skills under her belt — anything she set her mind to, it seemed like she could accomplish — but what she lacked was confidence.

For all of her brilliance, there was an insecure shyness, too. She found it difficult to share herself with people, not sure how to string together a compelling conversation outside of her many debate-required arguments.It was easier being a wallflower, watching the world pass her by and telling herself she’d catch up with it when she was ready to put herself out there.

But here she was on the first day of her college career, after months of telling herself that this would be the push she needed to finally break out of her cocoon. Nothing seemed all that different as she hugged one of her textbooks to her chest, dodging around the sea of unfamiliar students and coming to a halt by the campus fountain of Parkview University.

She stared at the stone horses, idolizing how majestic they were, scolding herself for being so meek and quiet and reserved. Here she was, a Parkview Stallion in her own right, but there was nothing free or strong about her. She should have went to a university with a more appropriate mascot, she considered with a small frown. Something like a mouse.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the galloping horses, pulling a penny from her pocket without even considering how childish it was. Wishing on coins and fountains was not logical in the slightest, but maybe that was her problem. Maybe Emily needed just a little bit of magic in her life. So she let the coin fly, watching it flip gracefully through the air before it collided with the water, and she made her wish.

“I wish I was worthy of this school. I want to live up to all the expectations of being a Stallion.”

It was simple enough, the tried and true ‘speak it into existence’ method, but nothing really changed or clicked for her. There were butterflies fluttering in her stomach, a swirling unease deep in the pit of her gut, but she was convinced that had been there the whole time. She sucked in a breath and went about her day.

The strange thing was how her fellow classmates began to interact with her. They didn’t say anything at first, just a series of nods and enthusiastic waves as Emily moved through the packed crowd. A few of the female students smirked at her in an oddly flirtatious manner, and many of the college jocks looked pumped to see the nerdy girl. She tried to play it off, blushing shyly.

But then she heard a low voice shout, “Bro, the legend is finally here! How you been, man?” It took her a moment to realize the beefy frat boy suddenly standing by her side was talking to her, let alone about her. He definitely wasn’t someone she knew, certainly not someone she went to high school with, and she was positive he didn’t have any interest in her. With a cautious sniff, she wasn’t sure he even had an interest in basic hygiene.

He was smiling such a goofy grin, though, and he looked so happy and excited to see her that it made her smile, too. Maybe someone had dared him to prank her? Maybe he was just getting too into the act? For just a moment, she felt confidence stir in her, and she let herself ponder the possibility that maybe he really was thrilled to see her. Maybe she had a reputation already. Maybe she didn’t have to question every little thing that happened.

“Yeah, uh, it’s me. I’ve been good.” Emily spread her legs a little wider, lowering the textbook she was clutching to her chest and letting it hang casually by her side. She needed to relax, or she was going to scare this guy off with how uptight she was. “How have you been?” She got the question out easily enough, but there was a slight pause as her tongue nearly pushed out the word ‘bro.’

That would have been pushing it a bit too far, she told herself, trying to find a balance between being chill enough to hang out with this dude and acting enough like herself that she wasn’t coming across as fake. The jock didn’t seem as lost in his head as Emily was, breaking out into a wider smile and moving into a double bicep flex without a second thought. “Bro, you see these gains? Summer was a fuckin’ pump fest. I’ve been great!”

Emily wasn’t sure how to respond to that, looking around the large campus and down at herself as she tried to come up with the right words  — wait, was she wearing this outfit the whole time? She could have sworn she had dressed more formal for the occasion, but at least she felt comfortable. That was really all that mattered. The workout shirt and elastic denim pants were large on her, but warm from years of use, so warm they calmed her down and slowed her thoughts.

“You’re a total beast, man. Keep it up.” And then she patted the jock on the shoulder, like it was the most natural thing, and he kept smiling and chuckling like there was nothing strange about them interacting like this. “I’ll catch up with ya later, bro.” Her vocal chords were stirring, shortening, and taking control. She didn’t realize what she had called the guy until he grabbed her hand in some sort of weird frat boy handshake and mock-saluted at her.

“See ya, bro.”

It ran through her mind that she needed to find her dorm as she watched the musky jock leave, shaking her head to break out of her daze. She didn’t feel her hair whipping around her face as she moved, but then she reached up and grazed her backwards cap, and that felt right. She had said she wanted to make a change, to not be so lost in her head, so she was sure to dress down on her first day. She was in college now. It didn’t matter what brand of clothes she wore, she was a fuckin’ athlete with a full ride scholarship. All that mattered was how much weight she could bench.

She stopped in her tracks, scratching at the back of her exposed neck and scrunching her thick eyebrows together. No, she was here on an academic scholarship — right? “Uh,” was all she could say, standing there like an idiot who couldn’t get her brain to function properly. The deep sound moved through her, down the length of her throat and causing an Adam’s apple to swell. She had been changing since she made her wish, and she should have noticed by now — definitely by now — but she couldn’t figure it out. Everything felt right.

All of a sudden she was so chill, and slow, strolling through campus like she had no better place to be. She started waving back at all the dudes and chicks who greeted her, feeling her legs burn as she started to stretch up and up until she was beginning to have to glance down at her new friends. Her worn out workout clothes were starting to become more than just warm, and she even lifted a pit to breathe in her rank stench. Something on the inside winced, and shouted out in displeasure, but all she expressed on the outside was a low, dumb chuckle.

They called him Stink Bomb for a reason.

Emily stopped again, this time pressing a meaty hand to her forehead and gasping from the sudden shocking memory. “No, bro. That’s not me.” She was so aware, for just a moment, hearing the stretch of fabric as she glanced down at the pecs ballooning against her shirt. Her thighs were becoming thick and straining the elastic of her pants, there were sweat stains all over her body, she was getting huge and smelly and losing every aspect of her former self.

She moaned in pleasure as something hot awakened between her legs, looking around her help, but all she saw were smiling faces and waving hands and a sea of strangers masquerading as her new friends. It was like the world had turned a blind eye to what was happening to her, just like she had, but now she was forced to watch as something thick and long snaked out from her crotch, pushing so tightly against her pants that she whimpered in pain and pleasure. “Bro, I’m too fucking big.”

And, fuck, he really was. Em couldn’t really think of anything else. He was so focused on his muscles as they continued to pump, he loved watching his pecs dance beneath his shirt, seeing his sleeves bunch up around his bowling ball biceps. He had thrown on the clothes he wore during yesterday’s workout, because he was fuckin’ late to his first day of college, but no one cared. They loved him. He was the big man on campus, the star freshman football team recruit. It was okay if he stank.

Em was here to stay, or was it Ev — an inward vice screamed, “Your name is Emily! Please don’t forget!” — but Evan’s new thoughts were so big and beefy and dumb that he squashed every last trace of the nerdy girl he had been. What kind of bro would go by Emily? He clearly wasn’t a fag. He smirked at all the babes checking him out, even being so crass as to rub the fat cock he was hiding in his boxers. He was gonna have so much fucking fun at the parties on campus, that was his priority beyond staying swole for sports. Yeah, he was going to flunk all his business classes, but Coach said he’d help him out. He scratched at his chin with a snicker, loving the feeling of his stylin’ stubble.

Pair that with the diamond studs in his ears? His shaven, tatted up body? God, he was such a pussy magnet. He didn’t have to do shit, just one flex and the panties went flying up into the air. He was such a smug, dumb douche, throwing up peace signs and duck lips like he didn’t know the meaning of growing up. Like this wasn’t a serious college. Evan was Peter Pan on steroids, frozen on an elementary school education with the rocking body of a prize stud horse.

And, hell, he fuckin’ was one now! PARKVIEW STALLIONS REPRESENT, BRO. His brain was wired to promote his university team, to live up to the mascot with every fiber of his being. He already had the horse cock down, and the full breeding balls. He squeezed out a silent but deadly fart as he strolled up to the fraternity he pledged to, and he chuckled even louder. He even had the stink down to an, uh… an S? Because stink starts with S?

He didn’t fuckin’ understand some shit, but who the fuck cared? He was loud, and brash, and popular. He felt his body pulse with energy one last time, moaning without a care in the world as his shoulders popped into place, his jaw squaring out, growing thicker and sexier and knowing he still had so much bigger to get. That’s why he pumped so hard. That’s why we was going to pump some more right now. When he saw the jock he had greeted that morning, he jogged over and slapped him hard on the back.

“Bro,” he almost slurred, grasping the boy’s shoulder tight and holding him in place as he let out a booming, sputtering fart. He was so fuckin’ proud of how he smelled. He was so gross, but the ladies couldn’t get enough of this stud. He couldn’t get enough of himself, either. He loved watching people choke on the mere scent of him.

“Show me where the gym is. Stink Bomb needs to get his pump on NOW.”

Evan was a Parkview Stallion, through and through.

Maybe he couldn’t do basic math anymore, or hold a flute in his big meaty hands, or win an argument without burping in the other person’s face, or do anything that involved too much cardio without exhausting his hulking body — but at least he was a confident son of a bitch now. He wasn’t shy about anything.

That was a fair trade off, right?

Regenerating Face

Regenerating circulatory system…

The computer voice told me what is about to happen. I feel a fuzzy tingling surge through my aged veins and arteries, and my heartbeat gets stronger.

Regenerating nervous system…

The computer voice speaks again. I blink, as if waking from a long nap, fresh and alert.

Regenerating skeletal system… 

It’s a good thing the computer adjusts my sensations to manage the pain. My legs and arms shoot out from me, my spine stretches, my shoulders inch further and further from my ears.

Regenerating skin…

Instantly, my old, sallow, wrinkled skin splits and peels, and youthful, fresh, darkly-tanned skin emerges from beneath.

Regenerating musculature…

I wince as pound after pound of muscle is stitched onto my frame, feeling unfathomable strength boil and blister on my body. I am not believing what I am experiencing. I flick my eyes to the mirror, my aged and grizzled visage has a look of surprise in the midst of the young bodybuilder I seem to be becoming.

Regenerating biography…

Suddenly I’m flushed with memories of growing up on ranch south of San Angelo. Breaking horses with the ranch hands. Sleeping in the hayloft with my older cousins. Becoming prom king in high school, and playing college football for the Longhorns. Coming out of the closet.

Releasing constraints.

New profile running.

Regenerating face.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three

--- Originally posted on 2019-11-18 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Ignorant Passersby

Lee Hae-Jin looked at his watch anxiously, his bicep unintentionally flexing as he did. His workout gear stretched over his tight body as the seconds ticked away, counting down slowly. It had been almost a month since the first Hotel Korea had opened, and nearly a hundred more had been built since then, with even more being proposed in other cities. Lee’s idea had been a huge success, with more and more of the world’s population becoming Korean, but he still had more work to do.

One of his newest ideas for faster conversion was about to launch, and he had no idea how successful it would be. Lee had made sure that if it faltered, only he would be able to notice. Not everyone stayed at a hotel, so he had to find a way to change the everyday civilians. As the last second clicked away, his plan came to life. Lee looked out the window, hoping to see some sort of changes. His anxiousness quickly turned to glee.

— —

“I’ll be back in a second, bro!” Chandler said as he stomped his way to the restroom. He was lifting weights with another guy from his fraternity, Nathan, but had suddenly felt an urge to take a piss. Nathan waved him off as he ran into the men’s locker room. He looked in the mirror and was greeted by a fairly built white male, his blond hair slicked back with sweat. Although his face looked red, his Under Armour wife beater looked rather dry. Chandler grabbed his phone from his gym shorts and took a mirror selfie, the white wall behind him accenting his tanned skin.

Suddenly, Chandler felt a stirring in his bladder, a reminder to why he had come here in the first place. He rushed to a urinal and took out a heavy dick, one that was almost 6 inches and still soft. He began to piss and looked up towards posters on the wall, mindlessly reading about some concert from an unheard American band. He smirked, believing the Top 40 playlist he was listening to was much better.

As Chandler pissed away, he began to hear music playing through the vents. He focused his hearing in on the music and, after a few moments of thinking, determined that it wasn’t in English. He quickly figured out it was some K-pop boy band. It wasn’t his kind of music, or the gym’s for that matter, but he assumed there must have been some big party from the new Korean hotel down the street.

Chandler focused back on the posters, reading about the new boy band that was touring all the way from Korea. He suddenly became overjoyed as he remembered that they were his favorite band. As he finished, he tucked a smaller, yellow cock back into his gym shorts and walked back into the main area of the locker room. Each step he took slowly brought him lower until the 6’2 male was only about 175 centimeters. His arms and legs inflated and he suddenly rushed back into the stall, his dick now wanting to do more than just piss in the bathroom.

Chandler quickly closed the stall door behind him and sat on the ridge of the toilet, taking out his much smaller dick. Chandler didn’t notice the difference in length as he got hard, his cock much shorter than what it used to be hard. He moaned as he began to stroke, his once rough hands becoming small and soft with a lemony sheen. As he edged, his pecs began to fill out more, his pre-defined abs sharpening. He groaned as his shrunken balls began to churn, his hair growing out into black bangs on his head.

“신 이시여!” Chung-Hee shouted as he burst a load in the stall, the white cum sticking out on the black wall. He cleaned himself and walked out, his small, yellow feet moving quickly across the floor. He walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror, the K-pop still playing from the vents overhead and in his earbud. Chung-Hee was glad that Nam-Kyu had convinced him to come to the local Korean gym today. He was a little timid that it wasn’t going to be authentic, but the place seemed to be as if it had come straight out of his own South Korea itself. He smirked as he walked up to the mirror, his sexy Korean body looked incredible against the black wall. He brought up his phone and took a mirror selfie, making sure to hold a straight face. He was looking as 멋진 ever. He sent the picture to his boyfriend before running back into the gym.

— —

Officer Charleston sat in his car, surveying the land around him for any sort of disturbance. Right across the street from him was the Hotel Korea, a newer building that had been the center of multiple documented disappearances, as well as numerous other complaints. He had been dispatched there to see if there was any reason the department should be concerned, but as he lazily ate a bag of potato chips that rested on his large stomach, he couldn’t find anything that seemed out of place.

Officer Charleston watched strangers as he sat there, his floating eyes hiding behind a thick pair of sunglasses. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just lots of random people around the busy street. He noticed the large Korean population that seemed to be spilling out of the hotel across the street, but he assumed that what the typical crowd for a chain targeted at a certain population. Officer Charleston scratched his bushy beard and placed the bag of chips next to him. He lined his large foot up to the brake and started the car.

Right as the car spurred to life, a blast of music began pounding from the building. Officer Charleston twitched from the sheer volume before turning off his car–this was obviously some sort of noise disturbance. He opened his door and shuffled out of the car, his large frame struggling slightly. The policeman strolled to a crosswalk and waited patiently, not realizing that as he stood there his foot tapped to the beat. He also didn’t realize that he was translating the Korean in his own head, beginning to understand every word.

A stoplight flashed red and the officer crossed with his fellow pedestrians. Each step brought the policeman closer to the earth, until he was barely 172 centimeters tall. His torso began to shrink as his stomach fell in on itself, the skin turning to a soft golden. His arms and legs plumped with definition, years of age being replaced with pounds of muscle. His shorter calves and forearms became solid as he made it to the other side of the street.

The policeman hummed along to the music as his thighs expanded inside of his pants. His hands became smaller as he adjusted his name badge, his name switching from the English phonetic system to Hangul. His feet also shrunk, now being able to slip comfortably into a pair of 250 mm boots.The yellowly tone overtook the rest of the officer’s body as his hair magically began to shed, all of it disappearing from the neck below. Even his beard fell away, revealing a sturdy jaw and the most flawless skin.

As a brown bob began to grow out on his head, the officer suddenly felt a sharp pain in his crotch. He rushed out to the side of the hotel behind a dumpster, pulling down pants to reveal a stubby, lemony cock begging for attention. He grabbed his cock and stroked it carefully, his whole hand not entirely fitting. He moaned quietly, its pitch rising as his Adam’s apple sunk in. He felt his balls tremble as he took in a harsh breath.

“커밍 해요!” Security Guard Choi howled as a small load poured into his hand. He sighed before wiping it on the side of his uniform. He was glad that he was able to sneak a session in during his shift at the Hotel Korea. They were fairly lenient on breaks, but sometimes a Korean man in his youth had to get in some extra time. The watchman turned the corner back around to the front of the building and noticed a car was abnormally parked on the street. It probably was just an accident, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect at the hotel. He strode over confidently: there was nothing a fine, young Korean like himself couldn’t deal with.

— —

John just needed a break. He wasn’t supposed to have his kid for the day, but his ex dropped him off a few days early. John hadn’t been able to take off work, so now he had to drag the 9-year-old around with him everywhere he went. It was completely agonizing. As they walked downtown, the kid had to see everything, point at everything, want everything. It was the worst when they passed the new hotel a few buildings back; there was way too much to look at. John eventually gave up, telling him to sit down outside and wait as he went into a brewery to get a drink. He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he was about to explode.

John quickly ordered a strong scotch and took a seat. Getting closer to 50 everyday, he still couldn’t believe that he had a child so young. Wasn’t his sperm supposed to stop working at one point? The kid had put so much stress on his body, helping him gain weight and lose hair. The balding man sat there quietly as a glass was carefully placed in front of him. He grumbled before grabbing it, knowing he’d have to chug it. Why couldn’t the kid just grow up?

He grabbed the glass right as new song began. It wasn’t coming from the brewery, but instead from a distance away. John didn’t notice it at first, but he slowly began subconsciously focusing more and more on the music. It wasn’t in English, but John could feel himself slowly get more and more involved in the music. His gulping turned to sipping as he started fully investing his attention in the boy-band music.

As John casually drank his whiskey, he didn’t notice his clothes slowly becoming looser on his frame. His stomach was coated in a light tan as pounds shed themselves away, the hair falling with them. While abs and pecs appeared on his frame, round biceps and triceps also began to pop up around his thickening arms. While his body became more muscular, years of age began to disappear. His shoulders and hips were coated in a lemony shade as they widened and shrunk respectively.

As more of the beer disappeared from the cup, so did John’s height. He slowly diminished in his chair, losing 16 centimeters to his height. Although his legs had contracted, his thighs and quads had become enormous. His calves had also becoming thicker, but they had lost their body hair along with the rest of John’s body. The only hair that grew in was on his head, which now was a soft, full stark-black part. John’s feet compressed as the rest of the golden shade covered his body.

Putting his root beer glass down, John began palming his groin. It had become increasingly agitated as time went on. John knew he was in public, but he had to relieve his dick right now. He dug his hands into his pants and began furiously stroking; his cock became more sensitive from its decreasing length. Suddenly, John felt his pouch scrunch up in his hands, ready for action.

“달콤한 방출!” Joon-ho squealed in a high tone as a small wet patch appeared on the front of his shirt. Joon-ho groaned in delight as he resituated himself in the chair. He picked up the Korean coffee and took a sip, smiling at its deliciousness. He knew it was dumb to come to a brewery and not get alcohol, but he didn’t care for it that much. He was still basically a kid in his early twenties, so it never appealed to him.

Speaking of feeling like a kid, he had to go find his boyfriend. He didn’t have a daddy kink, but it was clear who was in charge and who wasn’t between the two of them. Before he’d run off to find his boyfriend, he’d have to finish off this drink first.

— —

Timothy hated the hotel that had opened near his apartment. He had been living there for almost ten years, and all that time he had assumed that nothing would ever be built in the hideous lot a little less than a block away. Then, out of nowhere, a giant hotel was built, with people flowing in and out everyday. The strange thing though, Timothy noticed that people of every size, race, and age went into the hotel, but only young, attractive Koreans came out. The 40-year-old man could sense something was wrong.

Luckily for Timothy, he had just come home from work early, his boss feeling extra kind today. He rushed home and ran upstairs to his bathroom to take a hot, long bath. He prepared all the materials necessary before stripping his suit down slowly, his furry chest and legs becoming exposed to the world. Timothy knew he wasn’t the most attractive of people, with his beer gut and clunky height, but at least was fairly average. Once he was naked, the middle-aged man got into the tub, laying down so his feet stuck out the other side. Timothy rubbed a wet hand onto his head, the short, graying hair meeting him. He laid there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Timothy’s eyes jerked open as he began to hear music bouncing around his bathroom walls. He focused his ears to figure out that it was coming from the hotel, realizing it was in some kind of Asian language. At first, he was completely annoyed, but as he listened to it more, he began to like it. What the boys were singing about became enticing to him, relaxing him once more into the tub before he fell asleep.

Tae-won squinted as he woke up, his nap being a little longer than intended. He slowly pulled himself up, his small body wholely underwater. He looked over his lemony, muscled body, his proudest features all displayed finely under the bubbles. He looked over himself as he felt his small cock rise, with the absence of hair making it look even more miniscule. In fact, Tae-won was completely hairless from the armpits down–and he completely loved it.

Tae-won brought a small hand to his dick, carefully bringing it to full mast with three fingers. He whimpered as he jerked away, his cock sensitive. The boy band played in the background as he kept pushing, his short but powerful legs scrunching up to his defined torso. Tae-won pushed his brown locks to the side as he began to stroke faster. As he got to the edge, he felt his balls scrunch up to push out a load.

“여기 온다!” Tae-won yelled as his shot a miniscule load into the tub. Once he took a few deep breaths, he regained himself and slowly got out of the tub. He grabbed his red jockstrap and tight shorts, placing both on as he dried himself off. Tae-won restyled his hair into the classic chestnut bob before running downstairs. He picked up his phone and saw that he had a little less than an hour before he began his shift at the Hotel Korea. He also noticed that he had received a text from his boyfriend a few minutes ago. He opened the message, finding a picture of the other incredibly attractive Korean at the gym. Tae-won smiled, noticing his boyfriend was wearing one of the wife beaters he had given him at their last anniversary.

“Looking good, Chung-Hee,” Tae-won muttered in Korean, responding back to the picture. He guided himself back to the staircase, his tight, yellowy abs glistened under the sunlight from a nearby window. He pulled up his phone and brought it to the mirror, going from the same straight face that his partner had. His lemony features looked delicious after his long wash. He shot the picture and sent it to his boyfriend before running back upstairs to his room to get his uniform on. He had a long shift ahead of him, but, luckily for him, he loved his workplace.

— —

Milo had been waiting for his friend for almost an hour. He was parked outside of his hotel, the new one that had just opened, and he still hadn’t gotten any word from Kayler. He should’ve been worried, but for as long as he could remember, Kayler was never really one to be prompt; however, this was getting absurd.

Both Kayler and Milo had been friends since kindergarten, and the two of them would graduate in a few months from the highschool a little ways out of the city. Kayler was at the hotel for an assignment, one in which the student would observe a different culture. Of course, the Hotel Korea was the perfect choice, but Milo hadn’t heard any word from Kayler. He was supposed to pick him up after three days at the front door, but as Milo fiddled with his large shirt over his lithe body, no one ever approached his car.

Out of the blue, loud music exploded from the building Milo was parked in front of. Milo ducked for cover, taking a few moments to realize that it was not some sort of explosion, but instead K-pop. Milo didn’t know what to think of it at first, but what the boy band was singing about was strangely alluring. Milo concentrated on the noise, grooming his bright red hair as he followed along. The longer he listened to it, the more he began to enjoy it.

As the song started its first refrain, Milo hadn’t noticed how his feet were no longer tapping the brake pedal. He subconsciously pulled his chair a few inches forward as his shirt began to fill out. The once loose shirt began to tighten around the pecs and abs that were popping up by the beat. His once miniscule arms bloated, becoming muscular and dense. His calves and thighs also expanded while an amber color began to blotch out the pale white.

By the second refrain, Milo’s shirt was now strained, his large torso and biceps making it seem like the seams would rip any moment. Milo’s pants were also threatening to tear, with a large bubble butt and tree-trunk legs pushing at the silky boundaries. Hair dwindled away all around Milo’s body except for on his head, which shortened into a black sports cut. A few years packed onto to Milo as he shifted into his early twenties, while his feet shrunk into a softer size of 245 mm.

As the rest of the golden tan covered his body, Milo grabbed his average size cock and began to stroke. It got hard instantly, but didn’t lengthen at all. His hard length was now the same as what he was as soft previously. Milo didn’t notice however, for he was too focused on how incredible the bridge of the song was. As the last refrain came around the corner, Milo felt his testicles tense quickly.

“너무 좋아!” Min-kyu cried as a spray of white cum covered his shirt. He sat there for a second, breathing irregularly before regaining consciousness. He hadn’t even realized he had an audience at the passenger door.

“여보세요?” The stranger asked, causing Min-kyu to jump. He turned to the window to see his boyfriend standing at the window, still on his shift as a security guard at the hotel.

“Choissi, you scared me!” Min-kyu said in Korean as the watchman entered the car.

“Well, I didn’t know I was late to the party,” he replied back before leaning over for a kiss. As the two embraced, Min-kyu suddenly felt a buzzing in his pocket. He took out his phone to see that he had a text from his friend Kun-woo. He put his phone down and continued with the security guard. If Min-kyu had waited this long, Kun-woo could too.

— —

Gunnar sat on the uncomfortable chair extremely bored. He couldn’t believe that his lousy father had just left him at the front of a furniture store while he went off to get a drink. He didn’t even like his father. The two never connected because Gunnar had spent most of his time with his mom. They never really spent time together, and when they did, it was just awkward and always ended in some sort of argument. It was like he wasn’t even related to the man, but he knew that he had to try to stay friendly.

Gunnar brought a small bag into his lap, looking through all the things that his father did let him get. It wasn’t much, the reusable bag was just as ordinary as they things they had purchased. There were some water bottles, gloves, and a new game for his console back at his other home, but otherwise the day had proved uneventful. His father wouldn’t let him go into any of the buildings he wanted to see, especially the new hotel that had just opened down the street. Gunnar took out the water bottle to take a drink, not knowing what else to do.

Without warning, music began blasting from down the street. Gunnar choked for a second on the water he had just opened, surprised. He took the plastic bottle out of his mouth and looked towards the hotel. He could almost see the soundwaves emitting from the building, the K-pop becoming strangely alluring.

Gunnar brought the juice bottle back to his mouth, beginning to enjoy the music as it played on. As he drank, his legs began to extend themselves, the new meaty thighs and calves pushing him to a staggering 178 centimeters. Gunnar subconsciously began to manspread as his body became wider, his torso filling in with strong abs and pecs. An amber tone flooded his pale skin while his eyes became a deep brown.

While Gunnar continued guzzling pop from the bottle, his arms and shoulders began to fill out. Years of time in the gym became evident as pounds of meat were added to the boys frame. Veins became visible while his hand became round and hard, the results of numerous callouses. His expanding quads caused his shorts to pull up, now looking more like short-shorts than their previous knee-length.

As Gunnar topped off the beer bottle, he began to feel a rumbling in his balls. He had no idea what was happening, but something was telling him in the back of his mind that he should stroke his small cock. He grabbed it, and, with a sudden feeling of elation, began pumping furiously. As he did, he didn’t notice his grunts slowly becoming deeper, or how he now had to blow black bangs out of his face. Right as the yellow color covered the last of the pale skin, Gunnar felt a final push in his groin.

“달콤한 서울!” Gun-woo grunted as his jizz landed on his Corona shirt. He quickly rubbed it in before grabbing the matching bag and looking through it for a back-up outfit. All he had was an empty glass bottle, a beer koozie, and a Korean porn film for his date tonight. His date! He had completely forgotten about it, and where his partner had walked off to.

As if on cue, his boyfriend walked out of a nearby coffee shop. A grin plastered itself on Gun-woo’s face.

You look adorable, boy,” Gun-woo remarked in Korean as his boyfriend walked over.

“You aren’t too bad either, old man,” the man replied back.

“Joon-ho, you know I’m only five years older than you,” Gun-woo snarked.

“You’re talent in bed says otherwise.” Joon-ho replied, licking his lips. Gun-woo smirked as he got up to leave with his boyfriend, knowing he had a fun night ahead of him.

— —

Lee Hae-jin sat at his desk, the new information charts flooding in from every other Hotel Korea. His plan had been a huge success, as apparent by the massive spikes of local Korean populations in each location. The music was an easy choice for conversion while still being untrackable, but the problem was how he would transfer the Korean genetic code through the melodies. He had to write a song that would transform its listeners.

After tedious research, he finally came to an idea: Don’t create music, create a band. He designed his own K-pop boy band, which he cleverly named KOREABOO. They would seem like any other boy band from South Korea, but they’d only produce Lee’s music. Their voices would make the melodies that would become hypnotic to new listeners. Their words would help produce the new Korean population faster.

Lee closed the laptop and chuckled to himself. It would only be so long before the entire world would be Korean, and, more importantly, under his control.