Tilling the Soil, pt. 2 (Patreon)

The fit blonde was almost frantic as he threw on his gym shorts and tank-top, not even stopping to worry about the obvious tent.  Blake told himself it would settle down by the time he got there, and he didn’t really care one way or the other if it didn’t.  A part of him wanted people to see, needed them to.  After the confusing romp with Ezra his body vibrated with a giddy, desperate energy.  Physically he felt better than he ever had, tingling from head-to-toe with a barely contained vigor that lubricated his thoughts, preventing the ones from taking hold that otherwise would have told him something was very, very wrong.  Blake still knew that, but in a vague, surface level way that left it as more of a hunch than a concrete fact.  And he felt too good to care.

That giddy eagerness surged along with his cock the second he set foot inside the gym.  The sweaty man musk punched him in the gut, leaving him dizzy and reeling as he looked around at the crowd.  The women he normally lingered on suddenly didn’t even register, while the men in the room seemed to glow.  It didn’t matter their age, shape or size.  Each one was a smoldering ember of lust in the churning furnace of Blake’s loins.

“About time your scrawny ass got here.”  Blake gasped and shivered when the large, solid hand collided with his perky bubble.  He’d been so focused on the novel way in which he now perceived the men around him that he hadn’t noticed Emmett’s massive frame lumbering up behind.  He braced himself as he turned, biting down on the chorus of whimpers emitted by the cloud of butterflies in his stomach.  As with Ezra, he felt like he was looking at the towering man for the first time.  Emmett’s bald scalp seemed to shine with extra radiance, highlighting his statuesque face, while below, his shirtless torso was a wall of muscled wonder.  His cannonball shoulders, mountainous pecs, and hulking arms made the smaller blonde quake as they framed in the shredded muscle gut that loomed above the brawny man’s tiny shorts.  The thin fabric was stuffed to bursting with Emmett’s powerful quads and ample, solid rear, the small bulge in the front causing Blake’s mouth to water.  For the first time, the lean man’s usual rush of envy was accompanied by a new desire to be wrapped in his friend’s giant arms.  He didn’t just want to be Emmett, he wanted to be with Emmett.

“Sorry, got held up with Ezra,” Blake said, fully aware that he was very obviously checking the other man out.

“Bet you did,” Emmett grunted.  His hand was still on the smaller man’s rear and he gave it a squeeze, their dynamic shifting as quickly as it had with Ezra.  It was with no small amount of excitement that Blake noticed the young bodybuilder looking at him the same way his other friend had.  There was no question at all as to whether or not they’d hook up, simply a matter of when and where.  Emmett’s hungry eyes seemed to suggest that the deed had already happened in his head.  Their bodies just needed to catch up.

But first there was a workout.  Blake followed Emmett over the free weights, not caring at all about the obvious lump in his shorts caused by his semi-hard cock.  It was all the more noticeable when a sweating Andy trotted up and pulled his tank-top free, leaving the blonde’s wiry torso as bare as the rest of them.

“Nice to see you too,” Blake laughed, his heart racing when he saw the same unfiltered lust in the other man’s eyes.  Andy was built like a shorter version of Emmett, standing only 5’9” against the bald giant’s towering 6’3” height.  At an even six feet himself, it was the reason Blake had chosen the taller man to use as the soil for his seed.  He didn’t want to risk getting shorter, but otherwise Andy was every bit the chiseled Adonis that Emmett was.  His rippling frame was topped by a full head of chocolate brown hair, and his lack of height actually accentuated his ample physique, as well as the hefty bulge and ballooning rear in his straining shorts.

“I bet it is,” Andy said with a smug grin.  He flexed a massive arm, reaching out with the other to grab Blake’s semi-hard bulge.  The flustered blonde knew he should have a stronger reaction to being groped in public, but all he did was smile back and instinctively press his hips into the other man’s rugged paw, fighting the urge to throw himself at him.  He could see other people looking, and he loved it.

“Later,” Emmett barked, clapping Andy on a meaty pec.  “Work first, then play.”  Ever the disciplined one, he grabbed Blake by a bare shoulder and guided him over to a rack.  The two meatheads normally acted as his de facto personal trainers, but they’d never been this invested in the smaller man’s workouts before.  Though he knew exactly what he was doing, Blake found himself the center of their attention as they took whatever opportunity they could to get their hands on him, acting as “spotters” whether he needed it or not.

Far from being distracted, Blake was thrilled at the way he powered through his workout.  The eager energy coursing through him fueled his sets in a way he’d never felt before, letting him throw around previously untouchable weight with ease.  He took it as a sign the magic was working, a suspicion that was confirmed in a more concrete manner when Emmett reached over to tousle his hair at the end of their workout.  Instead of the other man’s stubby fingers lacing through his sweaty mop, Blake felt a calloused palm connect with a bare scalp.

“Damn, dude...you killed it today,” the big man said, his tone proud.

“Right?  Where’s this guy been?  Keep this up and you’ll be huge in no time, bro,” Andy laughed.

“Th...thanks…” Blake stammered, too focused on his reflection in the wall of mirrors to pay much attention to the compliment.  Where his full head of golden hair should have been was a sweaty, shiny scalp.  It wasn’t entirely bare like Emmett’s, but had a thin, flaxen circlet that started behind his ears and wrapped around the back of his head.

Blake hadn’t even noticed it happening.  He didn’t know if he’d been losing clumps of hair the entire time he’d been lifting or if it happened all at once, but the sudden change to his appearance was enough to slice through the giddy haze.  He felt a quick rush of embarrassment at the way the impromptu baldness altered his features, blunting his pretty-boy face.  He told himself it was just another sign that things were working; Emmett was bald too, and if he’d adopted this aspect, it was only a matter of time until he took on the rest.

He kept telling himself that as he followed his friends into the locker room, the odd sensation of humid air wafting across his bare scalp finally registering.  He didn’t have anything to change into, but he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to watch the other two undress, and they seemed eager to have him along.  The balding blonde turned when they entered and headed towards Emmett’s usual locker, but his friend went the opposite direction.

“Isn’t your locker over here,” Blake asked, pointing to a small metal door marked 25B.  It was next to the one he normally used, and the one he’d pulled the underwear from.  Like today, Emmett had beaten him to the gym the day before, so he hadn’t actually seen the other man use it, but that had been their routine for months so he’d just assumed.

Emmett shrugged.  “Not this week, apparently.  Some other dude’s been using it.”

Blake’s heart stopped, gathered its strength, then hammered so loud in his chest he thought the others had to be able to hear it.  He swallowed hard, his throat going dry.  “Who...who’s been using it?”

“I don’t know the dude,” Emmett said, raising an eyebrow at Blake’s sudden interest.  “Why?”

“Is he here,” Blake asked, feeling like he might pass out.

This time it was Andy who shook his head.  “Nah.  Didn’t see him out there today.  What’s up?  You look real weird right now,” he laughed.

“I just...this is important,” Blake said, forcing his voice to keep from shaking.  “What did he look like?”

The two bodybuilders exchanged a confused look before Emmett continued.  “I didn’t pay much attention.  Real beast of a dude, whoever he is.  Around my size, if I remember right.  Guy looked pretty jacked,” Emmett said, nodding.  Blake started to let out a sigh of relief, but his friend continued.  “Super impressive for a dude his age.  He had to be in his late forties, at least.  The cut was hard to see under all the hair, but it worked for him, if that’s what you’re asking.  Real manly looking guy.”

Not understanding the source of Blake’s concern, Andy grinned and flexed his abs, motioning back and forth between himself and Emmett.  “What?  We’re not enough man for you?”

“Dude, keep doing what you did today and you’ll look just like him.  Especially if you let this grow out.”

Blake gasped when Emmett reached out and ran the back of his hand along his chest.  Instead of smooth skin-on-skin contact, he felt the unaccustomed sensation of short, prickly hairs.  He already knew what he’d find when he looked down, but that didn’t lessen his shock any when he saw the light dusting of hair that had erupted across his entire body.  Normally smooth skin now bore the beginnings of growth, and the few areas that were hairy to begin with, like his thighs and forearms, were spreading the wealth up his limbs.

And the appearance of those limbs was equally jarring.  As he gawked at himself, Blake began to notice a subtle change to his body.  His lean frame was slightly less wiry, sporting a set of pecs that curved off his torso a bit more than they had, and a pair of arms that had added at least a few inches to their circumference.  His lower body had followed suit, leaving his shorts feeling tight and constricting around thighs and an ass that had both swelled.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” Andy said, clapping the stunned man on a broadened shoulder to get his attention.  “It’s not all going to show up at once.”

“Ri...right,” Blake stammered.  “I’m gonna go...uh...I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving his confused friends and hurrying to the sinks and mirrors at the other end of the locker room.  He hoped he wouldn’t really find what he knew in his gut was waiting.  “Oh...oh god…” Blake groaned.  His hope had been in vain.  The full sight of his altered frame, with its budding layer of fuzz, was bad enough, but it was the increased wrinkles, and the obvious weathering of his face that threatened to send him to the floor.  Instead of a youthful twenty five he looked at least thirty, the slight increase in age further magnified by his loss of hair and the rugged alterations to his once-wiry frame.

A part of him was genuinely thrilled at the sight of his increased muscle mass, and at the idea that it was only going to get larger if Emmett’s description had been correct.  Though it was hard to feel that way in the moment, Blake knew he’d been incredibly lucky.  He could have just as easily grabbed a pair of underwear belonging to some short, waifish twink, or one of the dumpy, nondescript men he saw on the exercise bikes.  The fact that he’d still somehow managed to at least land a brawny giant like he’d wanted was divine intervention, regardless of the other traits he was adopting, or the youthful price he’d had to pay.

As he stood at the counter and stared at himself, and saw all the passing men stare at him as well, it was finally occurring to Blake that he hadn’t fully thought about details of the ritual.  He’d understood most of it, but in his desperation he hadn’t stopped to think about the individual actions, or what they implied.  He’d jerked off while thinking about nothing but other men, while another man watched.  And ever since he’d been almost uncontrollably attracted to every man he’d seen, while they seemed just as interested in him.  Even now, through his growing dread, Blake had to stop himself from flexing his inflated cheeks every time he caught a man looking.  The muscled mounds were filling out his shorts to the point where they’d soon be spilling out above the waistband, if the elastic managed to hold at all.  The growing discomfort from his plastered-on underwear told Blake he was still getting bigger, and it dawned on him that he should leave while he still had something on, even if the thought of strutting home naked made him quiver.

He forced himself away from the sink, stumbling at the way his balance was thrown off.  His thighs now rubbed together and he could feel his extra mass shift in unfamiliar ways with each plodding step.  The hair that had just been short and wiry was starting to curl off his chest, and when he made it back to his friends he was struck by how different they already seemed.  Fresh from the shower, towels flung casually on the bench, their smooth, naked frames lacked the envy-inducing punch they normally held.  Emmett and Andy were still bigger, but the way they kept their bodybuilder physiques so clean shaven made Blake suddenly think of them as boys compared to his own budding masculinity.

“Everything okay,” Andy asked, folding his arms under his slab of a chest.  The motion caused his long, fat cock and heavy balls to bounce forward, something he did on purpose.

Blake didn’t bother to hide the way he stared at, or how he kept looking over at Emmett’s shorter rod with just as much interest.  “Yeah,” he nodded, his anxiety pushed away by his desperate need.  The confusing lust he’d been feeling was only growing stronger with the changes, and if they didn’t leave soon he didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself.  “My shorts just, uh, don’t fit so great at the moment.  You don’t have any I could borrow, do you?”  Blake knew it was the magic that kept his friends from reacting as they should.  The sight of his older, hairy, ballooning body spilling out of shorts that had fit only an hour before should have been shocking, but instead Emmett just grinned, his cock twitching noticeably.

“Not here, but I’ve got plenty you could borrow back at my place if you...”

“Hey now, you’re not leaving me out of this,” Andy said, cutting off the other man.

“Then what are we waiting for,” Blake purred, reaching out to grip both of his friend’s dangling cocks.  He knew people were watching, but that’s what he wanted.  If he had his way he’d let his friends take him right there on the bench.

The other two threw on their clothes in a frantic flurry of motion, practically running out of the gym with a shirtless Blake in tow.  His body had swelled to the point where his shorts fit like a pair of boxer briefs, his rigid cock outlined in clear detail.  Instead of embarrassment he felt a rush of pride every time someone looked, wondering why it all felt so natural.  He kept having flashes in his head of his naked body in front of a crowd, phantom memories that he’d never experienced but which somehow seemed real.

The three of them jumped into Emmett’s pickup, their meaty frames filling the bench to capacity.  Blake sat in the middle, the way he wedged between the other two further illustrating how much he’d grown.  His furry body lit up brushing against their smooth bulk also illustrated just how hairy he’d become as the copious pelt sprung out in all directions, like curly antennae seeking out sources of contact.

Their timing was almost perfect.  After only a few blocks the cab was filled with a loud, abrupt tearing sound as Blake’s shorts and underwear finally gave out.  The decimated fabric split up the sides, shredding to the point where the furry hulk’s club of a cock tossed it away as it sprang free.  Blake gasped at the sight of the girthy monster, considerably larger than his previous endowment.  The aching rod had to be close to nine inches, with a set of churning bull balls that matched the rest of his brawny, bull frame.  From what he’d caught of his reflection while they drove, Blake now looked to be at least a decade older than his friends, with a body that was nearly as impressive as theirs.  His furry chest had ballooned into a pair of massive, meaty pecs, his arms hanging off shoulders so broad he felt like he’d have to turn sideways to fit through most doors.  The arms themselves had grown so hefty he had to rest them on the bench behind his friends, and when his cock sprang free it slapped loudly against the cresting, shredded ‘roid gut that had replaced his formerly tiny waist.  His once-toned thighs were now hairy tree trunks, so wide and meaty that Blake already knew he’d be wearing only sweats from now on, and he wasn’t even done growing.

“There they go,” Blake laughed, his voice taking on a deep, hoarse note.  He didn’t bother to cover himself.  He didn’t need to.  As soon as the fat club shot free Andy was on him, reaching down to grip the aching monster as he turned and buried his face against Blake’s furry shelf of a chest.  The former blonde felt the short stud shiver as he swallowed one of the hard, inflated nubs that had become his nipples.  With his arm still draped behind the other man he absently stroked Emmett’s bald scalp, his other hand slipping down into the back of Andy’s shorts.  “And there he goes,” he laughed again.

“No fair,” Emmett grumbled, shifting in his seat.  “I didn’t know this was a designated driver situation.”

“Drive faster, asshole,” Andy said around a mouthful of Blake’s ballooning chest.

Emmett just sighed and shook his head, pressing harder on the pedal until they screeched into his driveway on two wheels.  No one waited for the garage door to shut before spilling out of the truck, giving any neighbors fortunate enough to be looking a brief glimpse of Blake’s naked, mountainous new frame.  The inflated, now-older man marveled as he lumbered into his friend’s house, amazed at how different things looked from his new perspective.  Everything seemed smaller and fragile, and he could actually feel the floor shaking from their combined weight as they hurried inside.

Blake was now officially as large as Emmett, his bloated, hairy frame so packed with muscle he was surprised that he could still move.  His arms hung at an angle, all of him rubbed against itself all the time, and there was no escaping the carpet that tufted off his chest so much his friends could grab it by the handful.  Blake caught sight of his reflection as soon as they entered, noting the craggy, stubble-covered face of a man in his late forties, but the loss of his youth felt like anything but compared to the surging power coursing through him.  Why did he need to be young himself when he had two eager, muscled puppies like Emmett and Andy to take care of him?

Blake had the pair stripped down in moments.  He grabbed them both and pulled them close, pressing his lips against one while the other kissed at his neck before swapping positions with the other.  He clutched handfuls of their smooth, ample rears while they did the same to his furry pillows, their free hands each tugging and stroking at his oozing club and roiling balls.  Blake had another flash as they writhed together, seeing himself in a similar position with other men, strange men, one after the other.

And as he looked around Andy’s house he started to have more new memories of himself at home, still naked but knowing that people were always watching through the cameras he’d installed in every room.  Working out, fucking, showering, shitting, sleeping, eating; someone was on the other end, witnessing it all.  People paid large sums of money for the experience, while others shelled out huge amounts for the privilege of being a “guest star” in the constant stream that was Blake’s new life.  Some guys, like Emmett, Ezra and Andy, got to play for free, but that was a privilege that came from being friends with the older stud.

Blake froze at that last thought, the strangeness of it finally reaching his addled brain.  For one brief instant he was aware of just how wrong things had gone.  He wasn’t lucky to have chosen the other man’s underwear, he’d been cursed.  He was stuck as a musclebound, middle-aged sex worker, a daddy-for-hire who flashed his hairy, bloated bulk to the world.  The magic he’d worked ran deeper than he ever imagined possible, making him a magnet for men.  Gay or straight, it didn’t matter.  Everyone wanted him as much as he wanted them.  They were always on his mind and he was always on display, just like he’d been during the ritual.

And he’d done it to himself.  As he dropped to the floor between the other two, Andy’s cock batting against his lips while Emmett lined himself up behind, Blake knew he didn’t have anyone else to blame for his predicament.  He’d tossed away his youth and whatever natural trajectory he’d been on for the life of a horny, hairy bull almost twice his age.  He had the muscle he’d always dreamt of, but on a body he’d never even thought about wanting.

Until he had it.  Now, with Andy’s fat log hitting the back of his throat and Emmett’s stout plug lighting up his dextrous hole, Blake couldn’t imagine being anything else.  His flexing body felt godlike as he bucked and howled on Emmett’s kitchen floor, loving how it felt when the other man tugged on the hair that coated his wide upper back.

The horror passed as quickly as it came, taking the stricken pretty-boy and leaving a contented old man between his young, virile companions.  When he thought about how the muscled pair could fuck for hours it didn’t strike him as odd that he’d know that, only that he was lucky to have met them at the gym in the first place.  He had a ridiculous thought that they’d met in college, but he knew that couldn’t be right.  Blake had never gone.  He wasn’t smart enough for that.  He was better with his body than his brain, and it showed.  When it came to getting big or bringing a man to their knees he was a genius, and he was happy to share his years of ample experience with his young friends.

He forced the fractured thoughts away and refocused his attention on the men inside him, rolling his hips at one end and tongue at the other with practiced precision.  By the time he’d worn these two out Ezra would just be getting done with work, and he hadn’t finished paying the young stud back for his help earlier.