You don’t notice anything happening at first. Hardly anyone can blame you. The physical changes are subtle. The behavioral ones even subtler. You don’t notice the way that he seems to turn his attention elsewhere when the news comes on the television, the way that his nose wrinkles whenever you talk to him about politics or anything like that. You also don’t notice the way that he turns fewer and fewer pages while reading before bed.

Well, you don’t notice at first. By the time that you do notice, he’s already stopped doing those things altogether. Your TV is never tuned to the news anymore, nor to the nature documentaries that you two used to enjoy watching. Instead it’s on fitness channels or on stupid reality shows. You don’t talk about politics anymore, and have started talking about other things. More interesting things. Like work out tips and diet arrangements. You have also both stopped reading before bed and have started having sex instead.

Your boyfriend has been going to the gym a lot more, though, and after some time you notice the changes there. He’s getting bigger. Definitely. It reminds you of a dream you had once, where you were standing in the rain in a city that shouldn’t exist. But the memory fades quickly, lost in the slabs of meat growing on your boyfriend’s body. It makes you horny. Makes you fuzzy in the head. Makes you want nothing more than to jump him and make him yours.

No one was stopping you. Least of all, him. So you do it. You jump him. And you make him yours. He squeals and whimpers as you fuck his hole, and then after it’s all done, he splatters the floor with his cum. That’s when he convinces you to go to the gym with him. You jump at the chance to watch his transformation from up close.

Every day that passes you can see his muscles swelling, growing bigger. You feel yourself changing as well. Thinking less about the future. Living more in the present. Bulking up, too, thanks to the protein shake that your boyfriend now has the both of you drinking. You feel memories and knowledge popping out of your head like delicate little soap bubbles. Your boyfriend is getting dumber, too. It’s almost like your brains are being rendered down to feed your transformation.

But you don’t really care. You can’t bring yourself to care. You’re getting bigger. He’s getting bigger. The only difference is that you’re getting bigger everywhere. He’s getting smaller somewhere. But it doesn’t matter to him. As long as he has easy access to your big dumb cock, he’s satisfied. He loves bouncing those muscle cheeks on your enormous fuckpole, moaning and squealing like the muscle whore that he is while you grunt like the dumb fuckwit that you’ve been turned into.