Tyler walked into the university gym for the very first time. The hot, heavy air hung low in the brick cavern, with his school’s athletes training hard in every corner. All of them big, thick, sweaty, and smelly- one of the two main reasons he’d avoided the gym for his first semester, the other being the intense insecurity he felt being surrounded by guys who at the bare minimum knew what they were doing. All these men seemed to effortlessly use these machines, these strange different weights like the mysterious kettlebell… And there he would be, somehow fucking up the pec fly machine. As he flashed his student id against the scanner, the loud ping of the system logging his entrance was enough to have a few of the patrons heads turn in his direction, all of which smiling and chuckling to themselves.
He quietly returned his id to his wallet and tried to make an a-line to the locker room, only to be intercepted by a loud brutish voice calling him out. Tyler shut his eyes and sighed, great. Some dumb jock bro was gonna berate him for coming into the gym, and of course some fratty humiliation would ensue.
“Ay! Jenkins, is that you?” Tyler turned toward the heavy baritone voice bellowing out at him. There, in the corner, dripping in sweat and loudly huffing after whatever insane workout he was doing was Farez, the Lebanese international student from Econ 116. He sat in the front row every day, his 6'5 body barely fitting in small desk, and loudly (though often correctly) shouting out answers to the professor’s hypothetical questions. Tyler surprisingly felt a small bit of relief, if any dumb jock dude was going to call him out in the gym, at least let it be a relatively nice one like Farez.
“Hi Farez, how are you?” Tyler slowly walked over to Farez sitting shirtless and dripping onto the wooden platform. The dude was at most 5% body fat and just so damn handsome. He was one of the few students on the boxing team, and his transformation from the skinny young dude that had started his freshman year and the now third year hunk was pretty stark. Almost impossible, Tyler had always thought.
“I am good. You know, just finishing some difficult training.” His thick Arabic accent was sometimes difficult to understand, but he always seemed excited to speak to his fellow students- authentic and energetic. “I have never seen you in this gym before! It is good to see you!” Tyler smiled, and thanked Farez, retreating toward the locker room. Just past the entrance was a second door down a dim corridor, which he rightfully ignored, instead turning to the brightly lit shower room, then to the rows of lockers. Changing into some very modest workout clothes, he walked back into the open gym and perused the machines, opting to start on the treadmill.
Stepping onto the worn old treadmill, he pressed the button and the belt he stood on began to move at a walking pace. He clicked play on his phone, putting his earbuds in, intending on listening to the lecture he’d missed the day before in Macroeconomics. This plan was quickly tossed out the window, as a recognizable hand slapped the cancel button on the console. Tyler turned to Farez, who’s dumb, smiling face was still breathlessly huffing from his intensive cyclical workout. Farez pulled one of Tyler’s earbuds from it’s place.
“My friend, I do not want to be the ‘that guy’ I am told about, but I think you would get better results for your time by lifting weights.” Tyler was moderately annoyed by this uninvited interruption, but lowered his irritation at Farez’ innocent support.
“Well, I don’t really know how to do any of that yet, so I wanted to start small. You know, get the basics down first?” Farez burst out laughing, though not quite in a bullying manner. He slapped Tyler’s back, the athletic tape wrapped around his hands and knuckles spit his sweat upon impact, leaving a wet handprint on his freshly washed Fruit of the Loom shirt. Farez pulled Tyler close, the salty heat emanating from his pumped muscles washing the twenty year old nerd in the Lebanese jock’s fragrant musk.
“I promise you my friend, you can learn fast. I can show you how.” The sincere grin crawling over Farez’ bearded face looking down on him made Tyler feel obligated to at least give it a try. After all, a free training session from a collegiate athlete that looked like Farez was not an opportunity that came to many people. He coyly nodded and Farez clapped his hands loudly in excitment! “Very good, Jenkins! This will be good!” Hopping off the treadmill, the jock led Tyler to the free weights section of the gym, handing him a five pound dumbbell. After a solid fifteen minutes of trying to model bicep curls to his classmate, Farez watched as Tyler still struggled to accurately complete a curl. Unperturbed, still with an ecstatic pep in his step, he clapped at his trainee again.
“Okay, my friend! Let us try something different! We will do some push ups.” Tossing down two aerobics mats, the two took their positions. “Ready? One… Two… Three… Four…” Farez turned his head as he effortlessly dipped up and down, but upon seeing Tyler failing to complete even two pushups, he began to understand the apparent difficulty of his situation. “Okay, my friend. Hold on. Just sit up.” Tyler was flushed, embarrassed to even make eye contact. Farez studied Tyler in depth. He was skinny as pipecleaners, little to no muscle mass whatsoever to speak of. It was astounding to the Lebanese muscle man that Tyler would be able to so much as walk to class every day. This was going to require drastic measures, ones that he himself was very familiar with. “Okay. You cannot tell Coach Halvorson that I am doing this for you, yes?” Tyler’s eyes widened and he instantly became nervous.
“Uh… What do you mean?” Farez looked around, and lowered his voice considerably.
“Just play it cool and follow me.” The jock smiled earnestly at Tyler, who’s anxiety was plastered all over his face. Grabbing Tyler’s cheeks and forcing his head to nod affirmatively, Farez got the confirmation he felt he needed. “Great, now you get up and follow me.” The two rose, leaving their water bottles, aerobics mats, even their sweat towels and walked back toward the locker rooms.
The two passed through the front entrance to the mens locker room, but bypassed the entrance to the showers and lockers, instead traversing down the dark hallway toward the mysterious door. Tyler looked around the hall nervously for cameras, if Coach Halvorson didn’t want them to be doing this, he would certainly be in major trouble if he were caught on CCTV. The room marker simply read “137,” with the typical purpose or owner of the room omitted entirely. Strange. Farez quickly typed a keycode into the door pad and the door clicked unlocked. He opened the door, basically tossing Tyler into the pitch black room before closing the door behind them.
A lightswitch flipped, and the room was illuminated in a greenish-yellow tint. It was very small and was occupied almost entirely by two tubular machines. To the untrained eye, they looked like the typical stand-up tanning beds that any bourgeois athletic club would have. But upon closer inspection, there was quite a bit more ventilation and drainage systems than a normal tanning bed would have.
“Okay, my friend. You stand in that one right there.” Tyler nervously scampered to the right cylinder and stepped into it. The glass door immediately shut, locking him into the machine. The nerd began to tap with increasing fervor, hoping to catch Farez’ attention, though he seemed entirely preoccupied with the console between the two tubes. “Okay, perfect. This will only take a short time, and you will be able to do whatever you would like to do, Jenkins! Just stay calm.” Tyler began to pound his fists onto the glass, as he watched Farez step into the left tube, and encapsulate himself within. The fan above Tyler whirred to life, blasting warm air into his tube, the same occurring in Farez’ capsule.
“Farez! What is going on! Wait! Wait! This is safe, right? Farez! FAREZ!” Tyler screamed, only to get Farez’ dumb smile and a thumbs up from the opposite tube. It was only then that he began to smell the musk. He looked up at the fan above him, watching as condensation began to collect on the metal rings, and drip down onto him. Collecting one on the tip of his finger, he brought it to his nose and sniffed. Without question, it reeked of Farez. It was a droplet of his condensed sweat. Following the exhaust fan’s path, he found it connected directly to Farez’ tube, as he began to notice several more pipelines connecting the two. The fan increased speed, and the moisture in the air began to grow. The stink from Farez was quite literally wafting and spinning around Tyler, and the more he breathed in ripe air, the more he began to feel dizzy.
“Already looking wonderful, my friend! I look good on you, right?” Tyler looked down at himself, his drenched clothes seemling disintegrating into thin air, showing only his rapidly tanning skin. His body began to pulsate in a faster and faster pace with every inhale of Farez’ sweaty musk, each burst seemingly inflating his musculature a bit more. He was thickening up quite nicely, to his own horror. Every breath seemed like a gulp of water rushing into him, and it began to even feel somewhat euphoric. He started to enjoy the sensation of his veins bulging, his muscles twitching, the very stink of the air… it all seemed… excellent. Entirely caught up in his own little world of muscle enhancement, Farez stood in the opposite tube, excitedly watching Tyler’s body inflate more and more. From the left front opening in the ceiling, a small rubber hose with a small silicone opening descended down. He tossed his arms behind his head in preparation for his favorite part, as his wet black shorts fell to the ground. His erect, uncut cock stood at full mast, allowing the hose to slowly press down onto the tip of his dick, before suctioning itself tightly onto the entire 11". As it began to undulate and pump his thick, smelly dick, a similar rubber hose would snake down out of the back opening of Tyler’s tube as well. The ribbed tip of this hose began to press gently against the nerd’s slowly inflating ass until it found the tightly clenched hole within. Tyler turned around to see what slimy thing had crawled to his ass, only to see the hose plunge deep into him. He yelped in surprise, it’s slick tendril probing deep into his bowels.
Farez’ breath started to pick up as he began to thrust into the hose, grunting and growling in animalistic prowess before he started to roar. His body began to undulate, taking on an almost liquid state beneath a rubbery, stretchy skin, and with one more thrust, streams of cum began to shoot up the rubber tube. Farez huffed and growled as he turned to watch his load swirl around the rubber hose until it began to flow down the one connected to Tyler. He smiled as he saw the seemlingly endless stream of thick, goopy cum begin to slurp into Tyler’s tight ass. The nerd gasped at the sensation, a strange flooding sensation began to overtake his core, and in looking down, he saw his belly begin to tighten with hard, cobbled abs before it began to pool into the soles of his feet. As water expands a latex balloon, Farez’ cum began to inflate Tyler’s feet as they expanded from a modest size 7 to a 10, then a 12, then a 14, until they maxed out at a tight size 16, while the excess cum began to flow into his veins.
Tyler felt himself getting lost in the fog of the smelly funk, in the feeling of his inflating body, his head spinning faster and faster. His legs started to inflate, increasing his height at an unbelievable rate, until his head was mere inches from the ceiling. Easily comparable to Farez’ 6'5, who at this very moment had finished shooting his load into the tube. The last of his cum slowly made it’s way up Tyler’s thighs and finally into his balls, inflating them to the size of baseballs with potent jock slime. Tyler looked down at his grotesquely massive balls, filled with Farez’ seed, just as the same milking hose descended from the ceiling still dripping with the hunk’s cum. He gasped as it slipped down onto his cock, lubed with the thick spunk, and began to pump him. It didn’t take long before his balls, filled to the brim began to shoot out the pent up load, only to be shot right back into his ass. As his balls began to churn more and more of it’s own seed, his muscles were now being filled with the mixed load. His pecs ballooned out, his triceps and biceps swelled, his forearms and hands tripled in size, until they were stretched and filled to capacity. The load slowly flowed up his throat, reaching his tongue, and slipping up into his sinuses. His face began to contort and liquefy, and a sharper jawline began to chisel itself out. His nose cracked and widened, as his lips plumped up. Hair began to fall out of his head in clumps and darken, as his brows lowered and his eyes narrowed.
As his head was quickly taken over, one last burst of cum and the transformation was complete. The anal hose retracted in a sloppy squelch, a waterfall of cum pouring out of his gaping hole until it closed back to a tight pucker. The cock hose slipped off his now 10" uncut fuckstick, and his now egg sized balls hung proportionally low. Zhìháo opened his almond shaped eyes, now a dark, almost black brown. Farez stepped out of his tube, and pressed a button on the control panel opening his companion’s tube as well. The mist of musty sweat poured out, and showed off the glistening, ripped body of a young Asian man.
“Not what I was expecting!” Farez smiled, pleased beyond words with the results. “Oh I see, I guess Alex Ming forgot to clean up after himself. He and I are a good look on you. I must say.” Zhìháo smiled as he looked over his new body, musk wafting from his smooth, rippled muscles. He stepped out of the tube, his wet, sweaty feet slapping against the cold cement floor as he looked at the metrics on the screen. 46% Lebanese, 38% Taiwanese, 16% various biological matter. Could very well be geneaological samples from any one of the many athletes who have used the machine prior, but if anything Zhìháo felt a kinship he’d never felt before with all of these dudes. They were family. Quite literally. In his head, his memories began to firm up, coming from a mixed background: having grown up with a Taiwanese father and a Lebanese mother in Taipei, and coming to the university to fight on the school’s well regarded Boxing team.
“Shit, Farez. This is amazing.” His deeper, baritone voice and thick Taiwanese accent surprised him momentarily until it became second nature to him. “Ready to train?” He smiled, as the two sauntered out the door, the lights automatically shutting off behind them as the door closed, leaving the machines uncleaned yet again for the next user.
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