Dr. Steve Harrison had stayed at his office long this evening. After some years of research and several expeditions he had finally found what he had been looking for. Deep within the South American Amazon jungle he and his colleagues had at last found the legendary trunks, which he had been researching for all of his work life. He had spent nearly 20 years trying to find this peace of clothing, got divorced from his wife, because she thought he spent too much time at his office and even got laughed at by colleagues.
And yet, despite all odds, he finally held the relic in his hands, which had among others inspired the story of Tarzan, the Trunks of the Wild. Though admittedly for such little clothing the word trunks was a bit stretched, it was just two pieces of cloth, connected by two thin strips of fabric. And yet he could almost feel the magic emanating from it. He stood there and inspected the trunks, searching for any trace of hormones, minerals or the like. Simply anything that would prove this thing was special in some way. But for now his test had only shown one thing on the clothing: Lots of old cum, something he was able to tell from simply the musky smell of the clothing.
He sighed in frustration. The tests all simply showed, that he had an average piece of clothing before him. But he knew it was special. All of a sudden he heard a whisper in his head: “Put us on.” The voice was deep and melodic, like someone who embodied masculinity itself was whispering into his ear. Steve hesitated. Did he really wanna do this? After all this small piece of clothing would look ridiculous on his old nerdy body. “Put us on.”, the voice whispered again, more insistent and even deeper than the last time. He didn’t have a doubt now, the voice had pushed everything out of his mind, leaving just the need to try the trunks on.
He quickly stripped off his shirt and pants, grimacing slightly when he gazed down his unsightly body. But he had to do as the voice said, so he pulled off his tight white briefs and gave his small dick a sad look. “That will change soon enough.”, the voice assured him and he quickly stepped into the Trunks. As he pulled the relic up his skinny legs, he felt the power resonating from it. Like the voice he had heard, the aura of the pants on his legs, felt like the presence of masculinity incarnate. Finally he pulled the trunks all the way up and closed his eyes.
Immediately he felt the power of the relic flow through his body and resonate with his every cell. He felt like his whole being had been set on fire, from his head, which seemed to burst, to his body, which felt like someone was trying to burn him, and even his mind, which felt like he was being pulled apart. And then he saw what was happening to him. At first he thought his skin was being burned for real, but then he realized his skin was darkening by the second. He had been white as a ghost before, just some light tan had remained from his latest expedition, but now he was nearing ebony black territory.
At the same time, he felt his shoulders being pulled apart, becoming far wider and at the same time rounding out and gaining mass, until they had a shape most guys had to work years for. While he was occupied with his shoulders, he barely noticed his waist becoming smaller, giving him an insane V-shape. To compensate for his wider shoulder, his lats and pecs grew as well, making his back look like a pair of wings and his chest like two pillows had been attached to it, the only difference being, they were hard as granite.
His stomach rumbled as the individual abdominal muscles hardened and grew bigger, slowly forming a cobblestone road of abs, which somewhere in the back of his head he was sure he could have washed clothes on. His legs transformed into two beautifully muscled, ebony tree trunks, the individual strings of brawn clearly divided from each other and powerful veins pumping blood into them. The calves, which had by now blossomed on his lower legs, looked like diamonds attached to the back of his legs and were at the very least just as hard.
The biggest change however happened between his legs. While his giant legs forced his package forward, his formerly small balls ballooned with probably the most potent cum any human had ever carried, and dropping lower than Steve’s balls ever had and rounding out to about baseball size. As the deep brown color spread to his 3 inch cock, it lengthened, hardened and widened. Veins began delivering hormone heavy blood to the growing tool, forming a net on the professors’s dick. Not that Steve saw the changes happening between his legs, the Trunks barely concealed them.
As Dr. Harrison began massaging his cock through the clothing, he could feel the fabric twist and change under his grab. While the original form of the relic would only have covered about a third of the magnificent new weapon of ass destruction, the shorts shifted to become closed at the bottom, giving the heavy weight at least some support and even concealing it and it’s two low hanging companions.
Steve was still enjoying the afterglow of his transformation, he heard the same voice as before begin a chant “Fuck, Lift, Repeat”. Over and over again the deep bass repeated the three words and they replaced the majority of Steve’s over thought’s Before long the new black stud noticed, that the voice was no longer saying the words in his mind, but that the words were flowing out of his own mouth. The same deep, commanding, confidence oozing voice he had heard before was now his own.
Suddenly S knew his mission. He’d have to go to a gym, start by breaking every record in the gym, proceed by showing everyone his superior masculine body and then take one or two guys there and show them the temple of the wild, his incredible build, with which the Trunks had gifted him. As he closed the door of his office, the name on the door began to change into that of his former colleague, erasing the presence of Dr. Steve Harrison. Now there was only S and he’d spread the message the trunks had given him and show the others the blessing of the wild.