Crack the Code, ch. 15: Brought To You By (Patreon)

“Damn.  Haters are gettin’ weird,'' Donny laughed to himself.  He was used to getting angry DMs, he’d built his Influencer brand around being arrogantly beautiful, but he’d never received one quite like this before.  Insults, threats of violence, and encouragement to self-harm had become so commonplace that they didn’t even register anymore.  Promises of a warped body and an altered reality where he’d have endless attention, though, were something entirely new.  The groggy stud re-read the message a few times just to make sure he wasn’t missing an obvious joke, and, if nothing else, Donny had to give the person points for originality.  Their persona as the “Code Breaker'' was certainly creative and lent an air of menace to the surprisingly polite message, but if it was meant to inspire real fear they’d missed their mark.  “Might as well say good morning.  Someone who puts in that much effort deserves a response,” he yawned to his empty bedroom.

Donny savored the familiar rush of pride as he sat up against his headboard and let the thin sheet tumble to his waist, exposing the sculpted perfection that was his tanned, smooth torso.  Broad, solid shoulders, chiseled, powerful arms, and perfectly proportional, prominent pecs all framed in a tight, tapering washboard.  “Fitness” was the young hunk’s official brand, specifically bodybuilding of the natural variety, and it showed.  His infuriatingly smug attitude aside, Donny actually was stunning to look at.  At twenty five, he’d spent a decade lifting his way to “Adonis” status, eagerly embracing the Influencer lifestyle and the easy access it brought to money and hookups.  Clothing companies, supplement makers, gym gear manufacturers; he gladly took sponsorships from each of them, all too happy to shill whatever product they wanted him to push as long as he got paid and got something for free out of the deal.  And with his hundreds of thousands of followers, Donny could afford to ask for such a high price.  He was innately photogenic, as if his athletic frame had been genetically engineered to exploit the age of social media.  His prize-winning build was capped by an equally impressive face, currently topped by a messy crop of burnished bronze bedhead, and wearing a light dusting of early-morning stubble that drew attention to the sharp cheeks, dimpled chin, and plump lips.  While some people questioned their purpose in life Donny knew he was made to be looked at, to be desired, envied, or both, and that unquestioning self assurance shined on camera.

It’s what made people, casual viewers and corporate sponsors alike, overlook some of his less than ideal qualities.  At the first whiff of insecurity, or after any perceived slight, Donny quickly became a petulant pretty-boy.  No one was safe from his wrath when the mood to be cruel struck, but despite being called out on multiple occasions the behavior had yet to impact his bottom line.  So the videos mocking people struggling at the gym, or wearing an outfit he deemed unworthy, or sporting an unfortunate haircut, continued unabated.  His fragile ego wielded his following like a weapon, bludgeoning anyone unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Instead of self-reflecting on the angry messages that inevitably followed such a video, like the one he’d posted the previous day of a heavyset, middle-aged man struggling to plod along on a treadmill at the gym, Donny merely relished the attention.  Whereas many of his peers in the Influencer Industry chose to ignore the negative messages they received, the smug stud loved to egg them on.  He’d taunt and tease the senders relentlessly, twisting the intent behind their words until he’d safely chalked their ire up to nothing but simple jealousy.  To drive the point home he’d always film such rebuttals bare-chested and casually flexing, making sure to show off and tease the superior beauty that, in his mind, was the real reason for their anger.

Filming in bed made it even better.  Cameras were everywhere in the condo, and his spacious bedroom was no exception.  In addition to the phone in his hand, Donny had a camera set up on each nightstand and one on the dresser directly across from the foot of the bed, each of which he could control via an app.  Climbing into or out of bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs made for good b-roll, and the videos where he positioned himself as he currently sat, tantalizingly exposed in the relaxed setting, always out-performed the rest.  He knew there were plenty of people that fantasized about being in bed with him, and the intimacy of filming himself just after crawling under the covers, or while groggy and waking up, drove that segment of his viewers wild.

“Mornin’ ya’ll,” Donny said with a sleepy grin.  He had one arm folded up and resting on the top of his head while he spoke, casually showing off the impressive size of his bicep.  “I really triggered some folks with the video of that dude on the treadmill yesterday.  I just got one of the craziest messages I’ve ever read,” he laughed, shaking his head.  “Like, seriously nuts.  I mean, I don’t even know what to say…someone put some effort into this.  I guess since I’ve been such a bad boy these babies are gonna get nice and thick,” he purred, pursing his lips as he let his free hand drop to his pecs.  “As thick as that hottie on the treadmill, though?  Fuck…that’d be tight,” Donny moaned, absently kneading one of the muscled mounds.  “Are you the one who sent that message, big guy?  Are you watching me like I was watching you?  Way that fat ass bounced?  Goddamn, man, I could NOT get enough.”  Donny heard the unfamiliar words leaving his mouth, and he knew they weren’t at all what he’d intended to say, but he couldn’t stop his mouth any more than he could stop his groping hand.  “You guys know I love dick in all shapes and sizes, but I’ll take a chunky boy like that any time.  It’d be hot as hell to straddle that belly,” he sighed, toying with an increasingly sensitive nipple.  Suddenly, the video in question had no longer been posted in jest but in lust, a lust that Donny felt all the way to his core.  “We could see whose titties bounce more.”

Though he wore his usual smug grin as he flexed the pec against his hand, Donny’s stomach dropped at what he felt.  The muscle didn’t just tense in his grip, it started pushing back.  Time slowed to a crawl as the brown-haired beauty watched his precision-crafted chest bloat and swell like an inflating raft, settling as an oversized set of heaping, juicy slabs.  At the same time, his broad shoulders and sculpted arms had expanded to compensate, though not nearly as much, making the cresting mountains of muscle look even larger by comparison.

Donny wanted to panic, to throw his phone across the room and flee to find help.  If this part of the Code Breaker’s message was true, he knew that what was coming would be even worse.  It wasn’t just his body that was about to change; his whole life would undergo a cosmic makeover.  He kept trying to tell himself that he was still asleep, that it was all just a nightmare, or, at the very least, that he didn’t actually feel a giddy eagerness welling in time with his growing muscle.  He was still very much aware that his perfect proportions had just been obliterated.  He could see the ridiculous muscle-tits looming above his now-exaggeratedly pinched washboard, along with the bowling ball shoulders and arms that looked steroid-infused, but instead of disgust all he felt was pride.  His unique body was his brand.  He made his living by showing that body off at all times, and putting it to use whenever and wherever possible.  That wasn’t something to be ashamed of; it was a gift that he gladly shared with anyone fortunate enough to cross his path.

To prove his point, Donny casually tossed the sheet aside.  He hadn’t noticed his fat seven inches going hard, nor had he recognized his lack of underwear until he found himself looking down over the obscuring pecs at the aching organ.  Donny was confused as he hardly ever slept naked, and the part of him that was still aware of what was happening felt an instinctive rush of panic when he thought about the cameras in the room, but then he remembered that he was only filming with his phone, and that he could only be seen from his comically large pecs and above.

His slight relief was almost instantly destroyed by a familiar green LED in his periphery.  Though he didn’t remember turning them on, a frantic glance around the room confirmed that all three cameras were not only recording, they were streaming.  Donny blinked and shook his head, a wave of dizziness washing over him when he turned his attention back to his phone and discovered that he hadn’t been filming himself at all with it, but was instead monitoring the live chat.

Instead of turning a mortified shade of purple and diving under the covers, Donny just chuckled as he read the many requests to make his pecs bounce.  “Alright, alright…you’ll just have to imagine the other guy.  I know I will,” he winked, lurching forward so that he was kneeling.  The old Donny tried to tell himself he wasn’t actually streaming a video where he was naked, hard, and writhing on his knees.  He tried to ignore the sensation of his cock slapping wildly, and the unfamiliar, shifting weight of his bloated pecs slamming up and down.  He used his hands to emphasize their heft, each squeeze and bounce sending darts of pleasure to his exposed member.

Gradually, and terrifyingly, those bright shards of bliss were joined by an equally foreign sensation from his lower half.  As he squirmed and gyrated on his knees, Donny began to feel an unfamiliar rubbing and squishing at his thighs.  He knew what it meant, the message had been all too clear that it was coming, but he still gasped at the sight of his thickened thighs.  Since he loved to flaunt his chest and ass in equal measure, he’d be given a matched pair that would be impossible to ignore.  Like his once-proportional pecs, his toned and carefully honed legs had expanded into meaty trunks, the excess bulk now necessary to support the clapping melons where his muscled bubble once sat.  It was difficult to tell just how large the globes had grown from his current vantage point, but it was clear they’d doubled in size at the very least.

“I think I give the guy a run for his money in the ass department though, right,” he grinned again, falling forward onto his elbows.  The position emphasized the sheer disproportionate bulk of his colossal cakes as Donny popped his too-trim hips, setting them into thunderous motion.  As before, instead of dread, all the twerking hunk felt was the same smug pride as he watched the thirsty, lustful comments fly by.  It had occurred to Donny that he was no longer on the standard social media platforms he normally used, but given the scale of everything that was happening the sudden appearance of a thriving OnlyFriends account seemed a minor occurrence.  “I hope you really are out there watching this, big guy,” he groaned, reaching back to spread his expansive cheeks and expose his confusingly eager hole.  The sensation of his ample globes spilling out of his large, gym-calloused hands made Donny’s head spin, though that could have been caused by the overwhelming lust coursing through him.  It wasn’t just a show for the camera.  The warped jock actually was fantasizing about the older, heavyset man from the treadmill pressing down on top of him, thrusting an undoubtedly girthy cock hard and deep.

Donny started moaning as he let his hips drop so that he could grind his throbbing girder into the bed as he bucked and writhed as if he actually was being fucked.  He could feel his thickened proportions shifting and shaking and rubbing in unfamiliar ways, but all it did was fuel his demanding lust.  The tides of ecstasy were so overwhelming that Donny wasn’t sure what was real anymore.  He still remembered the message, and he still knew that his body and behavior were both entirely wrong, but he couldn’t decide which was the nightmare.  His athletic frame may have been twisted into the impossible proportions of a bodybuilding Barbie doll, with its top-heavy heft, pinched waist, and thick, bouncing bottom, but his formerly perfect shape had never once made him feel like this.  His curvy new muscle seemed custom built for bliss, enhancing even the slightest sensation of pleasure.  Not even the knowledge that he was vigorously humping his bed while pretending to get fucked by another man for an audience of thousands could cause it to dim, the thought of his satisfied viewers leaving him nothing but content.

Donny bucked into the bed until he felt himself about to fall over the edge, at which point he rolled over, grabbed his cock, and angled it so that he blasted all over his engorged chest and flushed, pretty face.  The copious load channeled through the deepened valley of his pecs like a river while he licked at the strands coating his lips, falling back against the mattress as he caught his breath.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck…ya’ll,” he finally sighed with an almost drunken laugh.  “You guys know how to make a dude feel great in the morning.”  He picked up his phone to look at the chat and to make it the primary source of the stream, the old Donny wanting to crawl under a rock and hide at the sight of his cum-covered face.  “Glad I could make you feel good too,” he said, flashing a cum-crusted grin as he took in the rapidly scrolling waterfall of “squirt” emojis.  “Alright…I gotta piss, so let’s go get cleaned up.”

Donny couldn’t believe how normal his new proportions felt when he finally rolled out of bed.  The softest step caused slight ripples to reverberate through his chest and ass, and he was confusingly excited to think about how it would feel when jogging or even walking fast.  That same excitement came with him when he stepped into an altered bathroom and saw a series of cameras set up to capture any angle.  Instead of a traditional stall with a glass door, his shower was now wide open at the far end, but it wasn’t just bathing that had become unobscured.

The old Donny couldn’t decide which was worse, cumming for an audience of thousands or casually stepping up to the toilet and letting them watch while he relieved himself.  When that was done, he turned the shower on and scrubbed himself down as if he was alone, his head spinning as he lathered up his luscious new muscle.

The altered memories were filtering in to match his altered body, showing Donny the full extent of his new reality.  He’d taken his Influencing to a new level, rarely having a moment when he wasn’t exposed and on camera.  Sleeping, eating, working out, jerking off, going to the bathroom; everything was streamed and commented on.  It was an existence as unique as his body had become: constant attention from constant voyeurs, his every action, no matter how mundane, on display for a hungry audience and eager sponsors.

“You guys are in for a treat,” Donny said as he sauntered back out into the bedroom.  “Today’s being brought to you by JCK, and you know how cute their stuff is.  These tanks are super soft, and perfect to work out in.”  Donny wasn’t at all surprised to open his dresser and see the foreign clothing.  He was surprised that there was so little of it, but that shock turned to resignation when it suddenly occurred to him why.  He slipped the cropped, teal tank-top on, the straining fabric accentuating his large, nubby nipples as the bottom barely covered his heaping pecs.  “Do I even need to say anything about the jocks?  I mean, if they can make my fat ass look this good, just imagine how yours’ll look.”  Donny followed up the skimpy top with an equally revealing, magenta jockstrap.  The low-riding pouch was stuffed to capacity by his girthy package, while the thick elastic band emphasized the improbable tightness of his waist before the straining straps did the same for the oversized pumpkins that were his rear.

Donny didn’t put anything else on, his earlier sense of resignation coming from the knowledge that, at least for the rest of the day, he wouldn’t be any more covered than he currently was.  Even when he left the house a short while later to get some coffee and head to the gym, the only addition would be his sneakers and a small sling bag for his wallet and phone.  He was getting paid to model the products and that’s exactly what he’d do, an arrangement that the rest of the world was somehow perfectly okay with.  Sometimes he wore a bit more, and sometimes considerably less, but no matter how covered or exposed he was, the only reaction he’d receive would be an ample amount of hungry stares.

It was just the way Donny liked it.  The addled stud felt a moment of emptiness when he realized there was no longer an “old” Donny and a “new” Donny.  He had a faint, fleeting recollection of a mysterious message that told him what he’d become and why, how he’d finally targeted the wrong person and his cruel actions had caught up with him, but it was hazy at best.  It was also blessedly short lived.  Donny didn’t want to linger on things that felt bad, especially when they didn’t make sense.  There was no such thing as too much attention, and he took his job as an Influencer seriously.  Specifically, he wanted to Influence as many men as possible to take his inflated cheeks for a ride.  The sponsorship money was great, but it was the lustful reactions from his adoring fans that really kept him going.

“Alright fellas, I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite.  Let’s go pound some protein and hit the gym,” he said, his voice dropping to a purr as he finished.  “And if you are watching…hope to see you soon, big guy.  I’m bringin’ something else for you to pound.”