Hey Pink Fairy! I guess I should start by explaining that I have a huge muscle fetish. there is nothing that gets me going more than seeing a hot muscle boy or bodybuilder. Frankly, the thicker the muscles on the guy, the better for me.
I’ve done a fair amount of muscle worship before I met my boyfriend, but now that we are monogamous I haven’t been able to pursue my fetish other than looking at images of muscular men online.
My boyfriend gets it, but doesn’t share my fetish to the same degree. That said, he’s put a fair amount of effort into building himself up for my benefit over the past couple of years. It’s just the kind of thing about him that makes me love him so much. Well, that and the fact that he’s able to take my thick 8″ cock like a champ.
Here’s the problem: my boyfriend is a really tall guy. And at 6’5″, he’s been able to get really fit, and he’s built enough muscle to look ripped when naked and even clothed (you should see him in his Lycra workout gear!). But it isn’t the kind of bulging, muscle-bound physique that I fantasize about.
It’s not his fault. It is really hard for guys his size to bulk up without resorting to extreme measures. He’s putting in the work, but is starting to get a little demotivated. Is there anything you can do to help my boyfriend become the kind of muscleman that I drool over?
When your mind clears, you realize that you are not at home. The last thing you remember is falling asleep on the couch. But right now it appears that you’re in a sex shop of some sort. The shelves in front of you are illuminated by a dim pink light which is streaming in through the windows at the front of the shop.
You can hear the pitter-patter of raindrops splashing against the glass, and you shiver as a cold breeze winds its way past you. You jump, startled, when you notice that someone is standing there beside you. He’s hot. Cute. Adorable. A twunk in the quintessential sense. Wearing bright pink booty shorts, sneakers, leather harness and snapback. He smiles at you, a big toothy grin, and says, “It’s not that hard to create mass out of nothing, but it is annoying.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about. Mass out of nothing? That’s the stuff of science fiction. And fantasy, you suppose. “Oh, you’re probably confused right now… But you’re here because you made a wish. For the boyfriend of your dreams. And here I am, the Pink Fairy, ready to grant it… for a price.”
“But if you really want your boyfriend to become a muscle hunk, it would be so much easier to take the mass that’s already there and just… change the distribution. What do you say?” The Pink Fairy holds out a hand, a devilish smile playing on his lips. You think about it for a moment, but you’re powerless to resist. You shake his hand and the world changes around you.
You jerk in your sleep, and as you open your eyes you realize that you’re back home. On the couch. Bright sunlight streams in through the windows. You blink, trying to recall the dream that you just had. You remember bits and pieces, but not a lot. It’s hard to think through the thick haze of horniness and arousal in your head.
You hear the door open and watch as your boyfriend returns from his workout. He’s glistening in the light, his gym clothes drenched with sweat. You can scarcely help the moan that slips past your lips as you smell his musk, drifting through the air toward you.
“The fuck did you do with the laundry?” your boyfriend grunts. You look at him again, closer this time. He’s shorter, this time. You’re sure of it. His tank top, which used to leave a space between the waistband of his shorts and the bottom hem, looks ridiculously long on him, now.
He grunts and scratches one pec. You watch him closely. He’s getting shorter. It’s gradual, but it’s enough that you can see the changes happening. Your cock twitches in your pants. His glistening biceps are beginning to swell, his pecs puffing up like slabs of muscle. It isn’t long before he’s stretching out the too-long tank top, his cut abs pressed up against the damp fabric and leaving nothing to the imagination.
He seems oblivious to the changes. And you’re too spellbound to point them out. Even as you watch his calves and thighs grow to the size of veritable tree-trunks, filling in the legs of his gym shorts. You can scarcely resist the urge to take out your hefty cock and play with it. You don’t get the chance to indulge yourself, as with an almighty rip, your boyfriend’s clothes get torn to shreds. The sight makes you cum in your pants with a groan.
“Aw fuck…” your boyfriend mumbles. His voice sounds lower, slower, duller. His eyes, once full of intelligence, are only slightly glassy. “Not again…” he complains. He turns around to pick up the pieces of clothing that have fallen around him, and for the first time you get the full view of his new bubble butt.
The sight wakes a beast in you. You jump to your feet and cross the distance between you and your boyfriend in one bound. You place your hands on his hips and thrust your clothed crotch against his ass. “Fuuuck…” your boyfriend grunts, every second sounding dumber and dumber. “Right now?” he says. “Fuck. Yes. Please…”
You pull your dick out and slide it between his cheeks. But you realize that with your boyfriend’s new height, and his new bulk, he won’t be able to take your cock as easily as he did before.
A wave of pleasure and heat rolls through you as the fog in your head deepens. You moan, gripping your cock in both hands as you feel it pulling into your body, getting shorter and more slender. As it does, you can feel yourself bulking up. Not to the extent of a bodybuilder, but enough that you won’t be mistaken for anything other than a jock. At the same time, you feel your intelligence dropping. Memories, knowledge, all these things popping like delicate soap bubbles to make way for lust, desire, and arousal.
With an animalistic grunt you mount your boyfriend, pressing kisses against his deltoids, against the muscular bulk of his back. You can’t imagine doing anything other than this. You know you’re too dumb to do anything other than fuck and worship. But let’s be real. There’s nothing else you want to do at this point, anyway.