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  1. Tony was an Italian American police officer, a muscle-bear at 6ft7, 360lbs, 25 inch biceps, 62 inch chest, goatee beard, 40 waist, size 17 feet, huge 9.5 inch cock. He looked in the mirror and admired his body, the thickness of his muscles, the brutality of his looks, not the beauty of a bodybuilder. He stared at his feet, admiring the size and the way they filled his shoes. He imagined what it would be like to have a woman's hands on them, to feel her touch and admire her reaction. He thought of the feeling of his own hands on his feet, the way they felt so smooth and so powerful. He imagined the feeling of his own cum on his feet, the way it would feel so sticky and so hot. He imagined the feeling of his own feet on his cock, the way it would feel so rough and so powerful. He imagined the feeling of his own cock on his feet, the way it would feel so smooth and so hot. He imagined the feeling of his own feet on his cock, the way it would feel so rough and so powerful. He fantasied about finding smaller muscle-bears to dominate, fuck really hard and make them take his loads up their asses and in their mouths. He imagined himself ordering them around, making them show off their bodies and flex their muscles for him. He could hear their sighs of pleasure as he fucked them hard and fast, their moans of delight as he made them take his massive loads in their mouths and up their asses. He could feel the power he had over them, the control he had over their bodies and their minds. He could feel the energy he had when he was in the middle of his fantasies, when he was in control of these smaller muscle-bears. Tony was thinking about fucking them both hard and fast, his cock was so big and his balls were so huge, he was pounding their asses with his huge cock, they were moaning in pain and pleasure, both of them were so tight, they could feel every inch of his cock, they were both in ecstasy, they could feel the pleasure and the pain, they were both loving it. Tony continued to jerk off, he could do it for hours without cumming, he loved to edge,licked his fingers clean and continued to jerk off, he was in heaven. He was so turned on by his own touch, he was so horny he couldn't help but to keep jerking off. He was so close to cumming but he kept going, he was so close to the edge but he just kept going. when he did finally shoot his load it covered his t shirt, and had cum allover his fingers which he loved to eat. he loved to the taste of his cum, licked his fingers clean and continued to jerk off, thinking about a hot new musclebear cub he is going to meet tomorrow.
  2. PosingP

    After Work Workout

    Hi Everyone.... long time lurker, first time posting a story.... please go easy on me as I'm dyslexic! This one is probably a one off but I have some ideas for some other stories. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ After the first day at a new job, I walk into my flat and look around for my gym gear, catching my tired slender reflection in my bedroom mirror. I’m tempted to skip my workout but I had promised myself I will get in shape this time; my new job means I have more free time now. The new flat means I have access to a gym. I know I have no excuse for not following my dream of finally getting fit. Well, I dreamed of, and have wanked over, the idea of being a bodybuilder, but with my genetics, that’s never going to happen, but if I could get some form of muscle and show a bit of definition, that would be nice. Unfortunately, my workout gear is all at the bottom of my washing basket from when I last managed to squeeze in a run. I fish around the back of my wardrobe for the random lycra outfit I had ordered online a few months ago. It was super cheap from a small website I’d never heard of before. The two-piece suit was two-tone blue and black, sadly the small size suit was baggy on my petite frame, and when I put it on, it had lots of wrinkles. It didn’t matter if it didn’t fit me though, nobody was going to see it. I was going to the gym in my apartment complex. It was small but surprisingly well stocked with weights. The few times I had walked past it whilst moving in it was empty. Nobody seemed to use it. This suited me as a small quiet gym was fine by me. I was determined to do a full-body workout; I had time to kill this evening, and given that I was just starting out, I thought I’d go through and practice my form on main compound exercises I’d learnt about; I may not have had time to train in the past, but I’ve spent far too many evenings enjoying youtube videos of muscle studs working out and giving training advice whilst all sweaty and shirtless. After a quick warmup, I look at my slender reflection in the mirror with the lycra suit hanging off me. I shake the idea of the fantasy of being a big beefy guy filling this suit and head to the squat rack. Putting on my headphones, I lift the unweighted bar, focusing on form, paying attention to each rep, trying to get 5-8 reps in a per set but concentrating on my body position and tensing and activating the right muscles. I add on some weight and start the next set, quickly getting in a rhythm and lose my mind to ‘the zone’, each set, I would up the weight ready for the next set then return to the focus on my form. I wasn’t paying attention to how much weight I was adding to the bar and going again. I’m just focused, in a trance, squatting down and bringing the bar up. I don’t notice the gradual reduction in wrinkles in the lycra suit. I finally feel my legs fatigued, only just managing to get the bar back on the rack. I unload the bar (not noticing how many plates I take off) and move onto the shoulder press. The wrinkles in my lycra suit are mostly gone, and around my legs, it’s started to pull tight; I’ve not noticed though, I’m too busy lifting the bar and creating my slow controlled reps. All the time, my shoulders broadening and rounding, pushing against the lycra, not that I notice, I’m just doing this rep of this set… but which set is it? I’ve lost count… I found that manageable, so I better add some more weight and go again. Time passes; after moving onto the bench press, I pause to fill up my water bottle, ignoring the round pecs slowly expanding and pushing against my shirt, not noticing the crease forming from my overhanging balls of muscle. Nor have I noticed my arms starting to fill out the sleeves. No, it’s time for deadlifts. Loading up the bar, then tensing my core getting ready to lift and thrust forward, concentrating on the squeeze, not noticing my back rounding and widening, traps and shoulders pulling the fabric of the lycra. As I stand up with each rep my core starts to push on the fabric, first as a small block pushing against it, and then, with each rep slowly starting to divide, first down the middle, then highlighting each individual ab. As I squeeze my butt at the top of each rep, it gets a little making it rounder, plumper, firmer; the lycra leggings start to conform to the dimples forming on each side, and yet I keep ongoing ignorant of the changes my body is going through. It’s only when I have to pause mid-way through a set to adjust my feet position as my quads are pressing against each other that I realise, “Fuck my quads are pushing against each other! I gasp as l look down and see that the lycra tight over my body, contouring muscles that any fitness model would be happy with. My cock instantly hardens, growing down the side of my thick leg, pressing against my lycra suit as I take in my muscles. I glance over at the mirror, and I’m tempted to go and look: I’ve heard of a pump during a workout, but this is impossible! However, overpowering my sudden hornyenss and desire to examine my body is the desire to work out: I said I would do a full-body workout: I need to keep on lifting! I go back to lifting, but I’m now aware, I can feel my muscles swelling up and getting more pumped with every rep. My now ripped physique strains against my tight suit. I ignore the strain of my hard cock in my pants, pulsing bigger and harder, pushing forward as my balls and legs grow with each rep, forcing it against the tense fabric. I try to force the thought of how much I’ve grown out of my mind, my impossible new body, and focus on lifting… after all, if I carry on lifting, I’ll grow more! I get on with my workout, each rep making me grow bigger, more defined. I try not to see my biceps swelling, my chest pushing against the lycra, the definition in my arms and legs showing through the straining lycra. Eventually, whilst doing a second round of bench presses, the suit can contain me no more. The lycra rips, pulled apart by my broad back, and as it does, I feel a wave of pleasure mixed with fatigue roll over my body, and I know the growth has stopped. I stop my exercise and walk over to the mirror, lycra tearing as it glides over my solid muscle. Reflected back in the mirror is a beast, as big as any picture of any bodybuilder I have ever jerked over. “FUCK YEAH” is all I can roar as I tense my chest; the lycra top explodes of my body. Seeing my pecs stand to attention as a shelf of glistening muscle, my deep abs and round shoulders cause my cock to go into overdrive, and it tears out of the ripped leggings. Now a foot and a half long and as thick as a beer can. I grab it with both hands and start stroking my thick pulsing meat, dripping with precum, flexing my body as I go. I tense my tree trunk legs pulsing with veins and bounce my pecs, watching the striations ripple. Grunting, I lick my sweaty hard bicep peak of my 22-inch arms, feeling the veins pulse under the paper-thin skin as I carry on jerking with my other hand. The feeling grows, both from the power I feel from my size and strength and all the new nerves from my massive cock. The sensation builds up to ecstasy, and I can’t take it anymore rock-hard cock pulses; I moan with pleasure and cum. Squirting warm white liquid over my abs, chest, up into my face and with my mouth open to swallow the hot, warm liquid. As the orgasmic pulses subside, I collapse on the floor. The pump my muscles feel starts to subside, my body returning to where it was, almost, as I clear up and wrap a gym towel around me, I admire the little bit more definition of my body than earlier. I notice that my cock and balls press against my towel more than they usually would be. I saunter back to my room from the gym to put in a bulk order for those lycra suits. I’m going to buy the size XL and am already looking forward to tomorrow’s workout.
  3. centaurian

    Green With Power

    PLEASE NOTE!!! This story contains the following elements: muscle growth, Orc tf, hair growth, musk, some foot concentration, self worship, mildly embarrassing situations. If any of this offends you, please refrain from reading the story. Thanks, and hope you enjoy. Written as part of a trade with someone from a different site. (first time posting a story on muscle growth btw, but have done some writing before) ----- Phil had gotten back to his home after yet another day of work. He got to his front door and noticed a small package included with his usual assortment of mail. He brought the stuff inside and, setting the mail down, looked more closely at the box. It had no label on it to indicate what it was. He was nervous for a moment. What if it was a prank thing or something worse? Curiosity got the better of him though, and grabbing his scissors, he cut open the package. He could instantly smell something of linen, as well as something else he couldn't quite place. Inside was a fairly large white shirt and (Phil blushed) a jockstrap fell out as well. He picked up the shirt first; one of those fitted polyester sports shirts athletes wore. It seemed just a size too large for him though, so he set it aside. He then tentatively picked up the jockstrap. Unlike the shirt, this article looked to be about his size. It looked clean, but he felt he could smell something curious on it. He slowly brought the jockstrap closer to his face before taking a big whiff of it, smelling the slight aroma of a strong musk. He blushed and pulled the jock away as he felt his cock harden a bit. He tried to think of what to do with the stuff. Clearly at least the jock had been used before, despite being clean looking, but Phil thought about how much he loved stuff like this. He looked at his skinny arms, always fantasizing about becoming a muscled beast of a man. He looked at the stuff resting on the table, especially the jockstrap. "Maybe I could just wear that... make me feel like a regular athlete." He paused a moment longer before he dropped his pants and boxers, sliding the jockstrap up between his legs. As it finally slid past his slender butt and lightly cupped his crotch, he went over to a mirror to check himself out. He looked at himself in his jockstrap and shirt, looking anything but muscular, especially with his very slight belly pushing out his shirt. Despite that, he couldn't deny how well the jockstrap fit against his body. He stared at himself a while longer, finally snapping out of it as he realized he was slowly getting a hard on. He shook his head and went to go put his clothing back on, not bothering to take off the jockstrap. The next couple hours seemed just fine. Phil went to his desk and got to work on some drawings-a favorite hobby of his. He was doing well, his craft honed from years of practice as he drew a character on the page. Even this needed a break though. He stood up and massaged his somewhat sore hand as he went over to the bathroom. As he pulled down the zipper, he was reminded of the jockstrap. He had almost forgotten it, the fabric was starting to feel so natural against his frame. He smiled and relieved himself, wanting to get back to work. When he sat back down though, he started feeling a bit uncomfortable. The room felt a bit warmer than usual, causing Phil to lightly sweat. He pulled off his shirt to cool down, his moderately hairy torso glistening a bit with sweat. He felt more comfortable though, and he leaned forward to continue his work. The jockstrap, starting to soak in a bit of his sweat, tingled lightly against his crotch. He ignored the light pulses of pleasure he was feeling as he picked up his pencil, and he immediately paused after grasping it. He looked at his hand confused. The pencil felt a bit awkward in his grasp, as if it had become a more slender style. It didn't seem any different in his grasp, but it felt off nonetheless. He continued trying to draw, having more difficulty due to the feeling. As he slumped over the desk, his sweat-glistened torso began to alter. His small stomach receded slightly as his chest swelled out lightly. Resting his arms on the desk as he worked, his flexed biceps puffed outwards as well, the muscles cramping for a moment before settling into their new size. He paused. His whole body had a slight tingling soreness to it he couldn't quite place. He passed it off as having sat too long, giving him a reason to respond to a new hunger he hadn't noticed before. His stomach gave a loud rumble as he pulled his shirt on over his head. For some reason it felt tighter than usual. He looked down and saw his pecs lightly pressed against the fabric where they would have been obscured before. His shirt sleeves bunched up on his arms a bit too as he flexed. Phil felt great concern for these new developments, but another rumble reminded him of more urgent cares. Phil rushed to the kitchen and wrenched the refrigerator door harder than he had intended, not knowing his new strength. He looked around inside, wondering what would be best. His eye caught a large, packaged steak, and his mouth watered as he pictured eating it rare. He shook his head. "Rare? I only eat medium well." Still though, the steak looked appetizing. He popped it on the stove to cook and tossed a few potatoes into the oven. As the meat sizzled, his patience grew thin; the aroma of the meat made him salivate and lick his lips. He waited only 7 minutes before pulling it from the stove, digging in almost immediately. The meat easily ripped apart in his mouth as his lower canines gained a little height and sharpness. The steak was medium rare, but no steak had ever tasted so good in his life. He resolved to eat them like that from then on. After 8 minutes of inhaling his food, he sat back in his chair, releasing a great belch. It took a few moments, but Phil realized how he had just acted, and felt a bit appalled he even ate his steak that rare. "I must be coming down with something. I've been feeling weird all evening..." Wanting to put whatever sickness he had to rest, Phil carried himself upstairs to get ready for bed, unchanging down to his new jock before plopping down onto his bed, entering a deep sleep. ----- The rays of sunlight eventually stirred the man as he slept. He yawned and stretched, feeling a bit sore all over. Phil let out a belch as well, and it was then that he realized something else was off this morning. Bleary-eyed, he pulled off the sheets and was immediately hit with a wave of strong musk. It felt like he hadn't showered in a week, and to his surprise, he grew a little hard at the thought. From what he could tell, his feet weren't faring too well themselves in the scent department. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and reached for his glasses on the dresser. He blinked and took them off for a moment. It almost seemed like... he could see a little better without the glasses. A double check confirmed his theory. He gave an annoyed grunt, vowing to see his eye doctor soon enough for a better pair. With his slightly blurred vision, he didn't notice the changes his body went through in the night. His muscles had increased a bit more, and the hairs on his chest continued to thicken. He stumbled into the bathroom, pulling aside the pouch of the jock to let his cock free to unload his bladder. He aimed it with one hand, noting it felt oddly heavy. He guessed that his cock was just still subsiding from morning wood, not realizing it was indeed thicker than the day before. He slipped the tool back into the pouch of his jock and took a look in the mirror. His beard seemed a bit fuller or scragglier than usual. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his razor, trimming it up back to its normal chinstrap look. He took a quick look at the clock in his room and realized he would have to start moving quickly if he didn't want to be late for classes. "Crap!" He shouted before bolting out of the bathroom, any idea of a shower pushed out of his mind. In a rush, he grabbed a can of deodorant and sprayed his pits and crotch vigorously, hiding the musk under a thick layer of aromas. Tossing the can aside, he pulled open his dresser drawers to try and find something suitable to wear. A pair of jeans fit more snugly than usual, but he was still able to get them on without too much trouble. His shirts, on the other hand, did not fare as well. He could barely get any t-shirt to fit over the top of his head and larger shoulders, let alone allow him any sort of decent motion. In frustration he ripped them off, tearing a few with his new strength. Desperate for something to work, his eye looked at the package from yesterday. With no other options, he took the athletic shirt out and wrenched it on. Despite having seemed too large the previous day, it seemed to hug his body in all the right places now, accentuating his pecs, forming abs, and bulging arms. He rubbed a hand down the front, his fingers gliding over the smooth material felt good as he felt the slight contours of his torso. He thought he could feel abs too. He was confused and looked down. Sure enough, his stomach had receded enough to show light bumps when he flexed his stomach. "Guess I never realized how far I've come with the dieting..." he mumbled to himself, a bit scared but excited at the same time. It Made him feel manlier. Remembering he was on a time schedule, Phil grabbed a coat and his bag. He quickly shoveled some food into his stomach in the kitchen, grunting to himself about the lack of meat people have for breakfast, then ran out the door. His morning classes seemed alright, but Phil kept his jacket on to try and hide the odd body changes he had started experiencing. The information in the classes was going right over his head as his mind started drifting. Thoughts of working out and relaxing seemed so much better than boring books, and the occasional rumble of his stomach wasn't helping him concentrate either. He stretched in his seat to try and wake himself up a bit more, pausing when he felt resistance in his clothing. The shirt had fit comfortably only a few hours ago. He subtly unzipped part of his jacket and took a peek inside. His pecs were pushing harder against the fabric, nipples slightly hardened too. His shoulders were also bulging the sleeves. Phil quickly zipped the jacket back up and gulped. This shouldn't be happening. He had no idea what was wrong with his body. To make things worse, seeing his altering body had made him a bit horny. He adjusted his meat inside the jockstrap, trying to will it to go down, but the attention only made him want to play with it more. He gave it a couple of lewd gropes before realizing he was in public, blushing deep red. This only made things worse for the confused man. The combination of embarrassed heat and having the jacket on began to make him sweat, small beads running down his wider back and through the crevices on his chest and abs. His crotch started to sweat as well, the salty water mixing in his pubes and jockstrap causing a reaction. Unknown to him, his musk was starting to slowly overpower the deodorant he applied that morning. Around him, a few people were beginning to crinkle their noses in disgust while some others, confused and nervous, adjusted themselves. Phil eventually got a whiff of it as well and realized, judging from the looks being shot occasionally in his direction, that it was him. He coughed nervously and blushed a bit, waiting desperately for the clock to hit 12:30. With his embarrassment and stomach leading the way, Phil walked out of the classroom as quickly as he could. Phil was starting to panic a bit, and he vowed to sort it out as soon as possible. His stomach growled loudly. Maybe he'd wait till after lunch... Following his stomach, Phil walked to the cafeteria. He started moving towards the salad bar-a common choice ever since he started trying to diet- but after grabbing a couple different veggies he gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. His nostrils flared a bit as he smelled something delicious in the air. His mouth watered as he turned to the grill area, forgetting the plate he had been preparing. On a whim, he ordered 3 burgers and a large helping of fries. Quickly paying for the items, he rushed to sit down at one of the tables, wolfing down the first burger in seconds. It wasn't rare like he would have liked it, but meat was meat. He shrugged and started work on the second burger, taking a bit more time to savor the juicy meal. His body was immediately beginning to take to the nutrients he was receiving. The shirt feeling tighter than ever as his pecs pushed out more, abs looking more like thick cobble stones. His widening lats weren't doing any favors to the poor shirt either, stretching it taught. Even his pants were beginning to feel a bit tight as his glutes swelled like hard rocks and his legs followed suit. Tightest of all though were his shoes. His toes crammed against the ends as it felt like the material was crushing his feet. Halfway through the third burger, he gave a grunt of discomfort in a voice lower than he usually had. He unzipped his jacket and shimmied it off himself in an effort to feel some relief from the tightness. All he managed to accomplish was letting his musk out more freely, radiating a bit from his pits but especially from his crotch. He took in a deep breath, his nostrils staying flared this time, and felt himself harden a bit. He felt like such a man eating meat and smelling like a beast. He started rubbing his crotch through his pants again as he began working on the french fries. Absorbed in the image of his masculinity, coupled with the pleasure of his teasing, Phil didn't realize anything was wrong till a loud rip brought him back to reality. Looking down between his arms, he noticed a large rip down half the middle of his shirt, showing off the deep and hairier crevice between his well-formed pecs. It seemed so unreal. He reached a hand up to cup one of the slabs of muscle, giving a deep, masculine moan as he brushed one of his nips. The sounds had started to attract some attention from surrounding tables. People gave him looks of confusion while others whispered and laughed. Phil blushed a bit and tried to act natural, attempting to pull on his coat again. The motions of his larger muscles caused his athletic shirt to rip further, beginning to reveal the hairy hills of his abs. He thought all would be safe, but as he pulled the jacket over his shoulders, he accidentally ripped a hole in the back, forgetting his new strength. This all seemed to just attract even more attention, making the man even more embarrassed. To add insult to injury, his rising heat levels made his musk radiate more, the jock clinging to his crotch tightly with sweat. Standing up was even worse, as he realized his boner-a full 2 inches longer than normal- pressed tightly against the fabric of his pants. Adding to the attention surrounding him, his first couple of steps were marked with loud rips as large, hairy toes poked out the front of his shoes. At this point, there was little he could do to remain unnoticed, so he rushed out of the cafeteria, knocking a few people over in his haste. He shoved himself into his car, adjusting the seat back a few notches so he would fit more easily, and awkwardly pressed down on the gas with his growing feet. The laces were straining, the rips in the shoes growing bigger as the shirt continued to rip as well. He got into the driveway and bolted into the house, slamming the door behind him and breathing heavily. "This is wrong. So very, very wrong" Phil groaned to himself. With hesitant eyes, he looked down, seeing the moderate mounds of his pecs pushing against his coat. He tentatively unzipped it and carefully took it off, groaning again as he saw the tattered shirt and odd muscled and hairy body underneath. With a frustrated grunt, he ripped the shirt right off his body and tossed it to the ground. His muscled torso glistened with sweat, and it felt good to finally get some cooling relief. Large pecs with hard nipples, rows of hairy abs, a defined Adonis belt, and biceps the size of soft balls. It looked as good as it felt. Looking further down, he noticed the large outline of his cock draping down one of his pant legs. His eyes widened. Even at full erection, he was never as big as he saw now. He felt an impulse to fondle it, but held his hand in check as he took note of the other changes. His muscles hugged close to the jean fabric, making the friction on his crotch all the more intense, and the shoes were a complete mess. He bent down to loosen the tight laces in hope of getting them off his feet. His hands, a bit larger and meatier than he was used to, fumbled clumsily with the strings and he instead opted to rip off the shoes with force, his shoulders and arms flexing hard as he pulled apart the sad shoes. Wiggling his toes, it finally struck him how smelly he was. His feet, overly hairy on the tops and toes, had a sweaty smell to them, and his armpits weren't faring any better. He took another good whiff, his flared nostrils stretching out further. He gave a deep moan as his voice became fully baritone, his cock pressing even harder as if wanting release. Phil felt so strange, he had never been that into scent, especially his own, and the muscle that should have made him panic only brought more excitement. He stood there, conflicted for a minute, before his second head won the fight. Phil rushed to his bedroom and shimmied out of his tight pants, giving a huge sigh of relief as his cock was allowed to spring forth, partially hugged by the jockstrap. The remaining article of clothing was completely damp with sweat and hugged his balls tight. The musk radiating off of it smelled like a much stronger version of what Phil had remembered yesterday. Some inkling in his mind knew that the jockstrap and possibly sweat was causing him to change, but he didn't care at that moment. With a grunt, Phil grabbed his now 10" tool with one of his large, meaty hands and started stroking. The rippling feeling of his muscles as he stroked, the manly musk radiating off his body, Phil was in pure ecstasy. He lifted his free arm and shoved his nose into the pit, his open nostrils taking in the salty, manly musk. All the strange new feelings he had, added to his semi-hard on he had all day, caused him not to last too long. Body growing even hotter and drenching his bed in a bit of sweat, the man roared and shot his load, getting a bit on himself but a lot on the wall behind him. The intense experience left him drained, and Phil quickly nodded off to sleep only in his jockstrap. ------ Everything was quiet, apart from some of the snorting snores occasionally filling the space. Phil slowly awoke, eyes cracking as he peered around. It was still dark, some early hour of the morning. He glanced at the clock on his end table, seeing it read 4:00am. It didn't even register in his mind that he was seeing the numbers clearly without his glasses. What did register was the soreness he was feeling throughout his body. All of his muscles throbbed, as if he had the most intense workout of his life the days before. Coupled with that, the stench was as strong as ever. The cum that he splashed on his skin had been dried, and that coupled with the scent of his old sweat was pungent. The original jock strap smell was nothing compared to the animal he smelled like now. He reached an arm over to flip the light switch and was welcomed with a foreign sight. Two slabs of meaty pecs greeted him as he looked down. Underneath, a 6-pac with nearly an 8-pac visible. He reached to feel his chest, feeling the curve of the muscles and the crevice between them. In place of the cum that had sprayed his chest yesterday, a thick forest of hair was in its place. The same could be said for his even furrier abs, and his legs, though not in the firing range, had become hairy masses. His feet looked strangest of all, a full 4 or 5 sizes larger than the previous day. His toes were thick, the nails darker for some reason. Phil sat up slowly, leaning his back against the head board. He stretches, his muscles and joints popping. He had grown a couple inches overnight too, not that it was noticeable over his other changes currently. "What is wrong with me? It feels so good, but... it doesn't feel right." He held his head in his hands as he tried to think, and he jumped a bit as he brushed past his ears. He got out of bed and walked over to the full length mirror he had on his closet door. Sure enough, his ears were different. The cartilage had stretched itself at the tips, growing into points that increased the size of his ears by a good inch or so. As his mouth stood a bit agape, he noticed a couple of his lower teeth poked into vision more clearly than the others. He pulled back his lower lip and viewed his lower canines, both having indeed grown longer and thicker like tusks almost. "And they'll be even bigger soon" Phil thought to himself, his cock hardening at the apparently masculine image. He lowered his hands and shook his head. Where had such a thought come from? Though his body was so much bigger, he hadn't had any troubles moving in it either. It was as if... he had been like this all along. Was that right? Everything was getting harder for him to think about as attention was drawn more to his stirring crotch and his own musk permeated his nose. Hadn't this been what he wanted all along anyways? He always wanted to be muscular, manlier. Looking at himself in the mirror, he admired his body, looking like a natural bodybuilder covered in a pretty thick, masculine layer of fuzz on his torso, legs, and forearms. His beard was thicker too, higher on his cheeks and a bit longer. His chest puffed out as he lifted an arm and flexed to himself, his thick arm bulging with muscle. The sight empowered him even more, and his cock pressed more strongly against the fabric of his jockstrap. The thing still somehow was large enough to fit him, though it felt pleasantly tight against his cock and balls. One hand moving to start rubbing his crotch through the fabric. He continued to flex, seeing his arm bulge, his pec expand-giving one of his nipples a good squeeze too-, his thick quads which seemed even thicker like tree trunks, his large, hard glutes, everything. The more he flexed, explored, and rubbed, the more turned on he got. His cock started poking through the top of the waistband as it grew and grew. His foreskin had fully grown back overnight too. Flexing a bit more, he slid the jock off and held it in one hand, continuing to admire his large frame. A particularly kinky thought crossed his mind, and he blushed a bit at the thought. He glanced down at the moist jock in his hand and slowly brought it up to his nose. He grunted loudly as he inhaled his own scent in deep. It was just like when he had first gotten the jockstrap, but so much more. He closed his eyes and greedily sucked in the scent, beginning to really jerk his cock with his free hand. As he started jacking, his fingertips and cock started to turn a funny color, going from sickly to pale green to a richer green. The color slowly spread down his body, slowly transforming his meaty hands and turning his cock into a rich green. With the changing color spreading, his cock got more sensitive, and his body seemed to puff out just a tad more. His arms bulged as he jerked, his cock now a solid 12". It all felt so good, but Phil needed to come up for air for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he saw his face again in the mirror. His nose, which had flared out and curved a bit the other day, was now almost vertical, looking more like a snout. It was wide and flat on the front. He blinked a moment before giving a tusky smirk. It looked positively primal, masculine. He took another deep sniff of the jock, and his nose finally finished pushing out into a small snout. Though he admired his body for all the changes he was experiencing, he hadn't started to notice the creeping green going up his arm and spreading over his pelvis. It crept along his body, leaving the areas stronger than before. His ears stretched up another inch, showing the fey influences of his new being prominently. By the time Phil noticed the green skin, it had covered most of his torso, arms, and legs, creeping up his face now too. A small voice in the back of his mind shouted and pleaded for the changes to stop, but the altering skin wouldn't listen. It crept over his chin, his now dark green lips, his snout, and moving up his forehead and pointy ears last. He closed his mind as he struggled with these last parts of the changes. The next time he opened them though, they glowed with a redish fire that overpowered the original brown irises. Suddenly, the changes didn't matter in the slightest. If anything, he was completely enjoying the experience with no reservations. Phil went back over to his bed, dropping the jock on the floor as he fell back onto the covers. He admired his body more as he continued to stroke his green rod. His fingers traced the furry valley between his pecs, the hills of his abs, and the wide sweeps of his obliques. His balls bounced heavily with each stroke, full of testosterone and seed. Everywhere he explored was covered in muscle and dark hair, and the stench of musk still hung lightly in the air. He felt the buildup starting at the base of his cock as he tweaked a meaty, green nipple. Grunting and moaning deeply, Phil tilted his head back and flexed his massive legs hard. Rope after rope of greenish cum sprayed across his huge furry chest and chin, even hitting the wall behind him like last night. The orgasm wracked him for a solid minute before his grunting breaths started to steady. With his seed spent and his body relaxing, Phil was finally able to think clearly again. He sat up in the bed and really got a good look at his new body. It felt at the same time so foreign and natural. It was significantly bulkier than he had been before, but some recalibration allowed him the dexterous movement he had before. Despite how strange his body felt, on the inside he felt... normal. After the frenzy of his libido had quieted down, he could finally concentrate again. Though, feeling his cock twitch slightly as he admired his body and large feet, there were some recalibrations there too. Phil had no idea what he was going to do in his current state; he certainly couldn't go out in the world looking like this. For the moment at least he knew what he wanted to do: take a shower. There was a little nagging in the back of his mind not to do it, but he brushed it aside with the reminder that he would soon be musky again. Unfortunately, he soon realized afterwards that he lacked any clothing to accommodate his new form, and, improvising, wrapped himself in a sheet toga style. He figured he would clean up the room a bit too, ripping the dirty sheets off his bed and tossing them into a hamper. He paused when he saw the jockstrap on the floor. It looked relatively clean, but he could smell the musk he had transferred to it. He picked it up and thought to himself for a moment, wondering at the mysterious power of the object. After a pause, a little thought came to his mind. He smirked and went to the kitchen where the empty box stood from two days ago. He folded the garment and placed it in the box with some wrapping paper, smirking as he considered what doorstep he'd place it.
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