The Man of His Dreams
Bryan huffed as he locked the door behind him, “Finally…”
School had been as insufferable as always, constantly surrounded by dickwads and idiots he’d grown up with for the past 18 years. Bryan was smart, but not as an Ivy League level or anything. However, he was just smart enough to be recklessly harassed by the popular crews, as in the backwards-cap, crotch-grabbing, fag-bashing, athletically inclined Bros of high school. And it only got worse when Bryan’s mother had remarried to one of the football coaches right before his freshman year, granting him a stepfather who not only supported these arrogant pricks, but defended them as well.
But now, Bryan had the whole weekend to himself. His mother had planned a romantic getaway for herself and her second husband, leaving Bryan the entire place until Sunday evening. Bryan barely had any homework, so the next 48 hours were going to be spent doing what he knew how to do best: lounging. Playing video games, watching television, mindlessly eating. That’s what this studly high school senior was most excited for. His mom had stocked up before leaving, and with no one to physically impress, Bryan planned on stuffing his 5’6 frame to the limit.
After dumping his belongings in his room, Bryan entered the kitchen with full anticipation. Still wearing a nicer shirt and khakis from the school day, he decided he should start with something that wouldn’t cause such a mess. After investigating through a couple of cabinets, his eyes eventually landed on a box of crackers. Everything about them followed the Nabisco branding guidelines he and the rest of the world were so accustomed to, but one thing in particular stood out.
“Titz?”
Bryan blinked, but the “T” still stood proudly where the “R” should’ve been. Bryan didn’t really know what to make of the situation, but he also didn’t care. He just assumed it must have been some random one-in-a-million processing plant error. It was ironic really. Bryan was gay, but it wasn’t like he was forcing it on anyone. The harassment at school probably would have been far worse if he had come off as more flamboyant. That being said, his flamingo-print socks probably didn’t help his case.
With the box of crackers and an adult beverage in hand, Bryan jumped onto the couch and turned on the television, switching to his favorite documentary channel. A two hour-long special on World War I artillery was about to start, and Bryan couldn’t think of anything better to do than to lay back, absorb, and munch away. He quickly ripped open a sleeve and grabbed his first Titz, the cracker was gone in just two bites.
The documentary started off a little slow, but Bryan knew they always tended to–especially the longer ones. He couldn’t help but continue eating the crackers one by one, not even registering each Titz that went through his teeth, down his throat, and finally landing within his stomach acid, digesting before assimilating into the environment around it.
After about five minutes, Bryan found himself unusually impatient, absentmindedly scratching at the itchy material of his button-up shirt. His fingers graced along some Titz crumbs that had begun to accumulate onto his rock-hard stomach. The teenager was not at all bothered by this development. His attire however was.
The program droned on, with Bryan’s eyes fixated elsewhere as his stomach began to gurgle within his outfit. The Titz crackers had begun to process and were incorporating their intoxicating, American-made chemicals into the 18-year-old’s system. The standard blue button-up began to soften and lighten in color and material, the buttons popping out as a seam brought together the two edges. The generic color was replaced with a designer teal, brought along by the new logo fixing itself right above Bryan’s left pec. The sleeves shortened as well, morphing into the perfect tee for his tightened upper arms.
Left pec? Tightened upper arms? Those descriptions would’ve never been given to Bryan’s previous chunky frame. Yet the Titz crackers weren’t only having an effect on the high schooler’s clothes. As his stomach continued its light grumbling, the little fat that he had begun to wash away. It was like each wave pushed a little more off into the distance, never to be seen again. Underneath it all lay the beginnings of an excellent six pack, a set of two powerful pectorals, and the beginnings of powerful pairs of biceps and triceps. A little more masculinity was bestowed upon the burgeoning man as well, with his pits puffing up with hair and veins crawling along his youthful arms.
“BUURRP!”
Bryan wasn’t usually one to belch so easily, yet nor was he one to not be invested in a documentary. Especially one that should have been as captivating as the war it was explaining. But Bryan continued watching along, unknowingly growing more uninterested by the second.
That wasn’t the only thing he didn’t realize was growing, however. His legs, one propped up while the other stretched out, were each pushing a little further with every passing moment. The Titz crackers were accumulating and making space by elongating the bones and tendons along them, moving Bryan’s height up inch by inch. Before long, Bryan now stood (or lay) at a solid 6 feet, yet he would later claim an extra inch when asked.
With the legs at their full capacity, the Titz crackers continued their work on the 18-year-old. The quadriceps were first, shaping the thighs from a little flabby to full musculature while maintaining their cushy size. Calves built for running distances across soccer and lacrosse fields, followed by feet plumped up to generous Size 13s to better fill out the socks-and-sandals look.
Speaking of clothes, the square pants Bryan once wore had crawled all the way up his legs, leaving only a 5-inch inseam left for the world to imagine what hid underneath. At least the obnoxious boxer briefs gave a clue. And as for the once flamboyant socks, those had dried up into a starch-white pair meant for any typical jock, now even adorning the same certifiable-douchey logo of his tee.
“BUH-UUuurrrp!!”
Bryan followed up the deeper and more guttural belch with a little guffaw, feeling slightly impressed at his own work. He was not however impressed with this documentary. It was so stale and boring. This war happened like a gazillion years ago…who cares? Grabbing the remote, he switched channels until eventually landing on a game. Right away he could tell it was a rerun for a football match, even though this knowledge had never existed to him before. But Bryan became much more invested in seconds, satisfied and crunching away at the Titz crackers.
As more of the crackers entered Bryan’s system, their alterations began to work elsewhere. After lengthening out the neck a smidge to make room for a more prominent Adam’s apple, Bryan’s head began to undergo its own miraculous improvement. First, a good chunk of his body fat was stripped away, leaving him with the more typical facial structure of a high school jock: young, privileged, and undeniably attractive. Longer nose, duller eyes, and a voice now much more suited for the syllable “uh”. As a finishing exterior touch, Bryan’s hair grew out and flopped neatly underneath the backwards cap that had secured itself upon his head, a different logo matching his adult beverage visible next to the strap.
Before long, Bryan grew tired of watching the game play out for him. Although he didn’t remember when, he knew he’d already seen this match-up. And thanks to the Titz crackers he’d been chowing down, his attention span was rapidly decreasing. The external cranial work had been finished, allowing for interior revision to begin. Bryan picked up the remote and began flicking through the different options.
A news segment on sunscreen? Nah, Bryan didn’t need that junk. He loved his hard-earned tan lines from the many afternoon practices with his bros. A commercial for a scented detergent spray? Pfft, that wouldn’t do anything against Bryan. His teenage-boy funk was an unstoppable force (not like he wanted to get rid of it anyway). A man-on-man porno? How could that-
“Mmph…” Bryan grunted; his now deeper, lackluster timbre fully apparent. With a Titz cracker in one hand, Bryan was surprised to find his other underneath his shorts fondling his dick. His massive dick. While chipping away at his psyche, the crackers had made two final physical adaptations. First, a perky bubble butt that would forever entice the wrong audience. Second, a pair of fertile, sweaty balls with 8 inches of young man meat to match. A set that would certainly entice an audience. And by the way it was reacting to the porno, that audience was extremely gay.
Bryan rolled his eyes back into his head, a surge of pleasure enveloping his system as the compounding effect of the Titz crackers annihilated what was left of Bryan. The individuality, the integrity, the timidness, and even the moral compas were etched away, leaving only the most basic instinct behind. As Bryan felt himself coming to an edge, the Titz crackers took everything with them to his churning testicles, leaving only the stereotypical husk of the common high school jock.
“BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!”
The belch wasn’t the only thing released from the 18-year-old’s system. Not even bothering to adjust himself, the high school senior felt the warm, sticky goo slowly sink into his boxer briefs and shorts, marinating his awesome pouch.
“God, these are awesome!” Bryan exclaimed, taking another Titz cracker from the sleeve. Suddenly, the front door unlocked and opened from behind him. Bryan didn’t even bother turning or changing the channel–by the heavy footfalls he already knew who it was.
“Forget something?” Bryan called out to his stepfather. The coach entered the room from behind, his smile widening as he slowly took in the scene around him. The voice was the first clue, but the open sleeve was the confirmation.
“Your mom noticed I forgot the condoms,” Bryan’s stepfather chuckled in his brass register. "We weren't too far yet, so I decided to swing back and grab them."
“Hope they aren’t too old.” A smirk fell over Bryan’s face, “You got to replace them every now and then because they can get holes.”
Bryan's stepfather couldn’t help but beam with pride when he noticed the slightly tampered box placed proudly on the dining table. Where he’d planted the crackers, he knew it wouldn’t take long for his stepson to get to them. He hadn’t planned for an immediate success, however it was definitely working.
“Wish me luck, kiddo,” Bryan’s stepfather replied as he made his way out. Bryan only released a farewell fart, its poignant odor not at all muffled by the couch cushions beneath him. He really did hope his stepfather got lucky this weekend. And after grabbing his phone, Bryan realized he ought to as well.
Just as Bryan sat back down on the couch, looking at his phone, a studly man with a killer smile and not a stich of clothing appeared out of thin air. Bryan was definitely going to get lucky tonight. Bryan striped off all his clothing and started making out with his newly found man of his dreams.
School had been as insufferable as always, constantly surrounded by dickwads and idiots he’d grown up with for the past 18 years. Bryan was smart, but not as an Ivy League level or anything. However, he was just smart enough to be recklessly harassed by the popular crews, as in the backwards-cap, crotch-grabbing, fag-bashing, athletically inclined Bros of high school. And it only got worse when Bryan’s mother had remarried to one of the football coaches right before his freshman year, granting him a stepfather who not only supported these arrogant pricks, but defended them as well.
But now, Bryan had the whole weekend to himself. His mother had planned a romantic getaway for herself and her second husband, leaving Bryan the entire place until Sunday evening. Bryan barely had any homework, so the next 48 hours were going to be spent doing what he knew how to do best: lounging. Playing video games, watching television, mindlessly eating. That’s what this studly high school senior was most excited for. His mom had stocked up before leaving, and with no one to physically impress, Bryan planned on stuffing his 5’6 frame to the limit.
After dumping his belongings in his room, Bryan entered the kitchen with full anticipation. Still wearing a nicer shirt and khakis from the school day, he decided he should start with something that wouldn’t cause such a mess. After investigating through a couple of cabinets, his eyes eventually landed on a box of crackers. Everything about them followed the Nabisco branding guidelines he and the rest of the world were so accustomed to, but one thing in particular stood out.
“Titz?”
Bryan blinked, but the “T” still stood proudly where the “R” should’ve been. Bryan didn’t really know what to make of the situation, but he also didn’t care. He just assumed it must have been some random one-in-a-million processing plant error. It was ironic really. Bryan was gay, but it wasn’t like he was forcing it on anyone. The harassment at school probably would have been far worse if he had come off as more flamboyant. That being said, his flamingo-print socks probably didn’t help his case.
With the box of crackers and an adult beverage in hand, Bryan jumped onto the couch and turned on the television, switching to his favorite documentary channel. A two hour-long special on World War I artillery was about to start, and Bryan couldn’t think of anything better to do than to lay back, absorb, and munch away. He quickly ripped open a sleeve and grabbed his first Titz, the cracker was gone in just two bites.
The documentary started off a little slow, but Bryan knew they always tended to–especially the longer ones. He couldn’t help but continue eating the crackers one by one, not even registering each Titz that went through his teeth, down his throat, and finally landing within his stomach acid, digesting before assimilating into the environment around it.
After about five minutes, Bryan found himself unusually impatient, absentmindedly scratching at the itchy material of his button-up shirt. His fingers graced along some Titz crumbs that had begun to accumulate onto his rock-hard stomach. The teenager was not at all bothered by this development. His attire however was.
The program droned on, with Bryan’s eyes fixated elsewhere as his stomach began to gurgle within his outfit. The Titz crackers had begun to process and were incorporating their intoxicating, American-made chemicals into the 18-year-old’s system. The standard blue button-up began to soften and lighten in color and material, the buttons popping out as a seam brought together the two edges. The generic color was replaced with a designer teal, brought along by the new logo fixing itself right above Bryan’s left pec. The sleeves shortened as well, morphing into the perfect tee for his tightened upper arms.
Left pec? Tightened upper arms? Those descriptions would’ve never been given to Bryan’s previous chunky frame. Yet the Titz crackers weren’t only having an effect on the high schooler’s clothes. As his stomach continued its light grumbling, the little fat that he had begun to wash away. It was like each wave pushed a little more off into the distance, never to be seen again. Underneath it all lay the beginnings of an excellent six pack, a set of two powerful pectorals, and the beginnings of powerful pairs of biceps and triceps. A little more masculinity was bestowed upon the burgeoning man as well, with his pits puffing up with hair and veins crawling along his youthful arms.
“BUURRP!”
Bryan wasn’t usually one to belch so easily, yet nor was he one to not be invested in a documentary. Especially one that should have been as captivating as the war it was explaining. But Bryan continued watching along, unknowingly growing more uninterested by the second.
That wasn’t the only thing he didn’t realize was growing, however. His legs, one propped up while the other stretched out, were each pushing a little further with every passing moment. The Titz crackers were accumulating and making space by elongating the bones and tendons along them, moving Bryan’s height up inch by inch. Before long, Bryan now stood (or lay) at a solid 6 feet, yet he would later claim an extra inch when asked.
With the legs at their full capacity, the Titz crackers continued their work on the 18-year-old. The quadriceps were first, shaping the thighs from a little flabby to full musculature while maintaining their cushy size. Calves built for running distances across soccer and lacrosse fields, followed by feet plumped up to generous Size 13s to better fill out the socks-and-sandals look.
Speaking of clothes, the square pants Bryan once wore had crawled all the way up his legs, leaving only a 5-inch inseam left for the world to imagine what hid underneath. At least the obnoxious boxer briefs gave a clue. And as for the once flamboyant socks, those had dried up into a starch-white pair meant for any typical jock, now even adorning the same certifiable-douchey logo of his tee.
“BUH-UUuurrrp!!”
Bryan followed up the deeper and more guttural belch with a little guffaw, feeling slightly impressed at his own work. He was not however impressed with this documentary. It was so stale and boring. This war happened like a gazillion years ago…who cares? Grabbing the remote, he switched channels until eventually landing on a game. Right away he could tell it was a rerun for a football match, even though this knowledge had never existed to him before. But Bryan became much more invested in seconds, satisfied and crunching away at the Titz crackers.
As more of the crackers entered Bryan’s system, their alterations began to work elsewhere. After lengthening out the neck a smidge to make room for a more prominent Adam’s apple, Bryan’s head began to undergo its own miraculous improvement. First, a good chunk of his body fat was stripped away, leaving him with the more typical facial structure of a high school jock: young, privileged, and undeniably attractive. Longer nose, duller eyes, and a voice now much more suited for the syllable “uh”. As a finishing exterior touch, Bryan’s hair grew out and flopped neatly underneath the backwards cap that had secured itself upon his head, a different logo matching his adult beverage visible next to the strap.
Before long, Bryan grew tired of watching the game play out for him. Although he didn’t remember when, he knew he’d already seen this match-up. And thanks to the Titz crackers he’d been chowing down, his attention span was rapidly decreasing. The external cranial work had been finished, allowing for interior revision to begin. Bryan picked up the remote and began flicking through the different options.
A news segment on sunscreen? Nah, Bryan didn’t need that junk. He loved his hard-earned tan lines from the many afternoon practices with his bros. A commercial for a scented detergent spray? Pfft, that wouldn’t do anything against Bryan. His teenage-boy funk was an unstoppable force (not like he wanted to get rid of it anyway). A man-on-man porno? How could that-
“Mmph…” Bryan grunted; his now deeper, lackluster timbre fully apparent. With a Titz cracker in one hand, Bryan was surprised to find his other underneath his shorts fondling his dick. His massive dick. While chipping away at his psyche, the crackers had made two final physical adaptations. First, a perky bubble butt that would forever entice the wrong audience. Second, a pair of fertile, sweaty balls with 8 inches of young man meat to match. A set that would certainly entice an audience. And by the way it was reacting to the porno, that audience was extremely gay.
Bryan rolled his eyes back into his head, a surge of pleasure enveloping his system as the compounding effect of the Titz crackers annihilated what was left of Bryan. The individuality, the integrity, the timidness, and even the moral compas were etched away, leaving only the most basic instinct behind. As Bryan felt himself coming to an edge, the Titz crackers took everything with them to his churning testicles, leaving only the stereotypical husk of the common high school jock.
“BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!”
The belch wasn’t the only thing released from the 18-year-old’s system. Not even bothering to adjust himself, the high school senior felt the warm, sticky goo slowly sink into his boxer briefs and shorts, marinating his awesome pouch.
“God, these are awesome!” Bryan exclaimed, taking another Titz cracker from the sleeve. Suddenly, the front door unlocked and opened from behind him. Bryan didn’t even bother turning or changing the channel–by the heavy footfalls he already knew who it was.
“Forget something?” Bryan called out to his stepfather. The coach entered the room from behind, his smile widening as he slowly took in the scene around him. The voice was the first clue, but the open sleeve was the confirmation.
“Your mom noticed I forgot the condoms,” Bryan’s stepfather chuckled in his brass register. "We weren't too far yet, so I decided to swing back and grab them."
“Hope they aren’t too old.” A smirk fell over Bryan’s face, “You got to replace them every now and then because they can get holes.”
Bryan's stepfather couldn’t help but beam with pride when he noticed the slightly tampered box placed proudly on the dining table. Where he’d planted the crackers, he knew it wouldn’t take long for his stepson to get to them. He hadn’t planned for an immediate success, however it was definitely working.
“Wish me luck, kiddo,” Bryan’s stepfather replied as he made his way out. Bryan only released a farewell fart, its poignant odor not at all muffled by the couch cushions beneath him. He really did hope his stepfather got lucky this weekend. And after grabbing his phone, Bryan realized he ought to as well.
Just as Bryan sat back down on the couch, looking at his phone, a studly man with a killer smile and not a stich of clothing appeared out of thin air. Bryan was definitely going to get lucky tonight. Bryan striped off all his clothing and started making out with his newly found man of his dreams.
1 year ago