Gaining Followers

Wes couldn't stop grinning. He'd only posted a single video since downloading the plugin for his Tik-Tak account, but already his followers had tripled. "Damn...should've done this a long time ago," he said to himself, the number of views rising exponentially. He was a little embarrassed at watching himself move around shirtless on screen, but that had more to do with his principles than any insecurities over his impressive physique. Wes had always judged the guys who posted thirst trap videos of their ripped abs or chiseled pecs rather harshly. He rolled his eyes whenever he saw some mediocre, handsome-ish guy flexing in nothing but their shorts. It was always the same. They'd pose and show off, all the while pretending their video was about something other than flashing some skin for attention.

Despite having a face and build that was objectively better than most of the guys he resented, Wes told himself he'd never resort to that. With broad shoulders, perfect pecs, the best abs on campus, an ass that defied gravity, and unblemished, boy-next-door-turned-model features, he was well aware that this body was a work of art. He didn't need strangers on the internet to remind him. A light dusting of chestnut hair coated his leanly muscled frame, and a long, thick cock dangled between his solid thighs, leaving the 21 year old straddling the line between charming youth and rugged masculinity. It was no surprise that Wes turned heads wherever he went, though as much as the handsome jock enjoyed being the center of attention, he liked to control the situation. His expertly manscaped body was still on display whenever he strutted around the locker room or hung out shirtless with his buddies, but he didn't have to worry about what people were doing while looking at him in those scenarios. The amount of times he got hit on by guys at the bar was already enough to make him uncomfortable, and he could do without having to wonder if those same guys were getting off to his videos. He told himself he'd rope people in with his personality. He didn't need to objectify himself like some cam girl.

That was proving much harder than Wes had anticipated. He was likable, and he could be charming in person, but precisely because of his above-average appearance he never had to try that hard to be witty or outgoing. People just wanted to be around someone who was pretty, whether he had a flat personality or not. Unfortunately, that magnetism didn't translate to the short videos he posted. He followed the popular trends and tried to mirror what he saw other people doing, but no matter how much time he spent filming, he couldn't get his followers off the ground.

So when he found the Gaynz plugin, which promised to promote and enhance his online performance, Wes figured he had nothing to lose. He'd heard of people buying followers and inflating their numbers, but he told himself this wasn't like that. This would still be him creating content, with the followers finding him naturally, and once he could punch through the ceiling he kept hitting he wouldn't need any extra help. And HB&L, the company that made the program, seemed legit enough from what he could find online. Wes had never heard of Facets, their Insta-clone, but the rave reviews at least made him feel like he wasn't being scammed.

Once downloaded, the program was supposed to scour his profile and then make tailored suggestions for what he could do to improve his content. When the first suggestion came back that Wes should film a shirtless video, he naturally hesitated. It was the very thing he swore he'd never do, but the program made a surprisingly compelling argument. He worked hard to build the kind of body he had, and if people wanted to see it, he shouldn't feel bad about that. He should feel flattered. It wasn't desperate or attention seeking; he was giving his audience a gift. Wes didn't need them to appreciate his physique, but it was okay to want it.

It was more fun than he thought it'd be. He did the latest lip-synch challenge, a type of video he'd posted countless times before, only this time he popped his shirt off. Flexing his pecs independent of each other while he swayed his hips, showing off his shredded abs, Wes mugged for the camera, his ripped torso doing what his lackluster persona never could. The angle of the video was mostly centered on the scant patch of hair that sprouted on his prominent chest, but he let it dip slightly, following the wispy trail that disappeared into his jeans. The elastic waist of his boxers was just barely visible, a tantalizing peek for the new followers pouring onto his page.

As much as the exhibitionist thrill turned him on, Wes told himself that was as far as he'd go. He already had enough shirtless pictures on social media that a few videos on Tik-Tak wouldn't change anything, but that was where it would end. He'd already gotten a few texts from his buddies with eggplant and heart-eye emojis mocking his last video. Anything more suggestive and he wouldn't be able to live it down.

Gaynz had other ideas. "Great job on your latest post! Click here for more ideas and a detailed breakdown," the notification read. Wes clicked on it, blinking at the bright, unexpected flash as the program opened. "You've got some real momentum going, don't stop now! It's important to keep yourself in front of your audience. People loved your dancing! Our data shows that you could skyrocket with a similar video wearing a little less. Gym shorts or boxers are fine, as long as they show off your lower half. Don't be afraid to shake that booty!"

Wes blushed and put his phone down. "Shaking his booty" was the last thing he wanted to do on camera, especially in nothing but his underwear. He hadn't danced as much as he'd posed and flexed and maybe swayed a little in the last video. Just the thought of gyrating and popping his hips and prancing around for real was enough to make him squirm. "No. No way," he said, hopping up from his loveseat to pace around his small, studio apartment. He folded his hands behind his head as he walked in circles, arguing with himself. "I don't care how many followers it'd get me, there's no way I'm...I'm..." he trailed off, watching his arms flex in the mirrored closet doors that lined one of the walls. The pose showed off the taper to his torso, accentuating the way his waist drew inwards before bubbling out at his solid cheeks. He turned and looked back over his shoulder, his jeans bouncing as he flexed the muscled globes.

And just like that, he was making another video. Screaming at himself to stop, Wes walked over to his phone, practiced his smug grin a few times, started some music, and hit record. He felt like a prisoner in his own body as he repeated his earlier pose, flexing his arms behind his head while suggestively rolling his hips. After a few rotations he traced a hand down the line bisecting his torso and popped the fly to his jeans, squeezing his bulge as he worked the zipper down. He gave the loose denim an abrupt shove, his stomach dropping as the pants threatened to take his boxers with them, but the thin cotton held just above the base of the now-outlined cock bouncing beneath it. Though his arrogant grin never faded, Wes was mortified as he kicked out of the jeans, turned, and gave his impressive bubble a bounce.

"What...what the hell was that?!" Wes cried to the empty apartment when the strange compulsion faded. His smug grin turned into a humiliated, crimson grimace as he fumbled with his phone. "Must delete...must delete...can't let anyone see thaaaahhh! No! How did it post?! I hit delete!" Wes cursed and hurled the phone onto his bed across the room, feeling like he'd just been kicked in the stomach. He was sure he'd hit delete but instead the video posted, sending the seductive sequence to all of his newly acquired followers.

Wes stood frozen in place, the pulsing dance music grinding salt into his wounded pride. He tried not to think about the image of his fit frame rhythmically humping the air as he'd shucked his pants, or how each and every detail of his long, thick hose was visible when it bounced against the front of his boxers. He'd never been more confused or humiliated in his life. Wes still didn't understand why he'd even done it in the first place. Whether he'd wanted to or not, as soon as he read the suggestion it was like his body went into autopilot.

"Should at least turn this shit off," he grumbled, trudging over to his phone. He picked it up to stop the music, but the first thing he saw instead was the notification about all of his new followers. Even faster than with the shirtless video, his numbers had exploded. Wes's stomach still dropped when he pulled up his account and the embarrassing video started playing, but he couldn't deny the rush of satisfaction he felt at seeing all the likes. He could have done without the many, lustful comments posted by other men, and he blushed when he saw the surprised reactions from people he knew mixed in with the lewd emojis, leaving him torn between happiness and dread.

That latter emotion grew stronger when another message from Gaynz popped up on the screen. "Wow! You're on fire! Keep it up! You're a hit with men aged 30 - 45, and our data shows this demographic likes hair. You've got a good start, but if YOU want to grow, IT needs to grow."

Wes just blinked at the screen, more confused than ever. He'd wanted followers, but not with the crowd he was gaining, and he had no idea what the program meant by growing his hair. He'd naturally always been on the smooth side of things, and he had absolutely no desire to change that, even if he could. "Alright, enough's enough. I'm uninstalling this garbage. Don't know why I...I..." He trailed off in a sharp gasp, a wave of itchiness nearly bringing him to his knees. Wes swayed on his feet, his crimson face going pale when he saw the time-lapse nightmare reflected in the mirror.

The hair came in everywhere. It began spreading from the few patches he already had, starting with the wiry coating on his sculpted pecs. It grew dark in the center, pushing out like a wave towards his shoulders. Silky, barely visible foot soldiers sprouted ahead of the chestnut tsunami, quickly growing coarse and dark as the shockwave caught up with them. It stopped just below his shoulders, following the natural curves at the top of his chest like inverted crescents, before spilling down his chiseled arms. The dark hair on his forearms pushed down to the backs of his hands while simultaneously creeping upward to join with the invading army that marched inexorably from the epicenter in Wes's chest.

When the peach-fuzz precursors began sprouting on his trim abs, Wes tried in vain to wipe them away. He pushed against the darkening tide but only succeeded in shivering when his fingers began stroking through the sprouting carpet. "No...oh fuck...this can't be real..." Wes stammered, his jaw dropping when he pushed his boxers down and saw the fur ripple around his hips, coating his perky bubble, before wrapping around his toned thighs. When he looked back up, he saw the growth had even reached his face, covering his high cheekbones in a layer of stubble. It wasn't a dense carpet or a thick pelt, just an all-over dusting that suggested the potential, but to Wes, he thought he might as well have been turning into a Sasquatch.

Before he could process what just happened, his phone beeped with another notification. "Fuck! No! I'm not doing what you say," Wes cried, trying to drop it.

His hand wouldn't respond and instead tilted the screen so he could see it. "Give your fans a look at the new you! You've got a great voice, so be sure to let them hear it."

Wes tried to stop himself. He raged internally, his mind racing as he fought to regain control of his unresponsive limbs. He kept telling himself that he'd stop at any moment, that he wasn't really positioning himself and the camera to get the best revealing angle. He pulled the front of his boxers up to just above the base of his cock, but he left the back wedged beneath his now-hairy bubble, which was just visible in the angle of the mirror behind him. On screen, Wes felt a short rush of relief at seeing his broad back still smooth, but it was short-lived as he reached forward and started recording.

"'Sup fellas," he said, a seductive note to his deep voice as he gave a smug, upward nod of the head. He pinched the sides of his boxers up against the elastic waist, accentuating his hefty bulge as he exposed his newly dusted thighs. "Thought you might like it if I grew it out for you," he purred, letting go of his boxers on one side and stroking a hand up through the more prominent trail on his flexing abs. "None'a that little boy shit around here anymore," he grinned, grabbing his sizable package through his boxers and shaking it for the camera.

Wes couldn't believe he'd just said that anymore than he could believe that his body was really changing. He sounded like one of the grunting dude-bros at the gym, not his usual, charming self. He wanted to flee from his apartment, but his legs would only carry him back to his phone. This time, he didn't even get a chance to see if his numbers had increased before Gaynz popped up with another notice.

"Not bad, but you can do better. That didn't get the response we'd hoped for. With a few more tweaks you'll be back on track! Instead of boxers try something more exciting, like a jockstrap." Wes gasped at the sudden rush of air on his legs, having to fight back a scream when he looked down and saw teal jockstrap where his striped boxers should have been. The stuffed pouch thrust his heavy package forward, outlining every inch of his thick hose and plump balls. "Muscle is a hit with this crowd, so the more the better! Let's bulk you up a little and see if that helps."

Wes tensed and grunted, a sudden pressure draping over him as his body began to expand. His already impressive shoulders thickened and pushed further apart, his pecs adding to their hang above his tightened waist while his thighs and ass puffed with additional muscle. It wasn't a major change, but the results were more than noticeable. In a matter of moments, Wes had gone from being cut and lean like a swimmer, to sculpted and brawny like a budding bodybuilder. His torso had a prominent "V" to it, and each of his inflated muscle groups flexed and stood apart from each other whenever he made even the slightest movement. Under normal circumstances he would have been thrilled at the magical gains, but watching his dull, arrogant grin in the mirror, and feeling the muscle shift beneath his recently acquired coating of hair, Wes couldn't help but think he was falling into a nightmare. There was another voice creeping into his head, and though the smug, eager tone sounded like himself, Wes told himself he'd never let it take hold.

He kept telling himself that when he set the camera back up and hit record. He tried not to think about his shifting bulge or his bare, bouncing cheeks when he turned his back and slowly strutted away to give everyone a gradual reveal of his new muscle. When he turned, he had the same dull, arrogant grin as he broke into a double bicep pose. "What it do, bros?" He sneered, folding his arms behind his head to fully flex his abs. The scrubby hair seemed to accentuate his new muscle, not hide it, as Wes shifted his weight from side to side to show off his obliques. "Got some real jock meat for ya," he purred, giving one of his inflated pecs a rough slap before bouncing and kneading the muscled mound. "See this shit comin' through the gym and you gonna stare for sure." He hooked his thumbs in the waist of the jock, stretching the elastic as far as it would go before letting it snap back into place. He grabbed the phone, panning the camera slowly up from his plump bulge, along the dusty coating on his abs, and over a hair-encircled nipple before landing at his smug face. He pursed his lips as, off camera, he worked out of the jock, just barely showing his broad, shifting shoulders and the line of hair beneath them while he stepped out of it. He pulled the phone back and held the jock in front of it, the view on screen stopping just above his twitching cock. He started to tilt the phone down but stopped, shifting it back to his face as he shook his head with a stern expression. "Uh-uh. Gotta get that ass to the gym and catch me in the showers if you wanna see the rest. Or maybe show me yours first. Slide into those DMs, dudes," he winked, pursing his lips in a kiss towards the camera and giving a familiar, dull laugh as he stopped recording.

"Thirsty bitches gonna love that," Wes heard himself say, absently scratching down his hairier abs to heft his hardening hose. He blinked at himself in the mirror, watching helplessly as his altered body flexed an inflated arm. Wes wasn't consciously doing any of it, nor did he want to, but even though he was no longer recording he couldn't stop himself. The sight of the extra muscle turned him on, and not in a vain, self-centered way, but in a way that made Wes's stomach drop. His cock wasn't just throbbing because he thought his own body was hot; it was throbbing at the thought of someone else looking like him. Like someone flipping a switch, the mental image of a locker room full of fit, musky, naked men went from something he had to endure to something he longed for. As with the strange new urges to let himself be seen, Wes desperately wanted to take a look at the other boys while he was at it.

He looked at his phone, his dull new grin spreading at the exponential increase in his followers. The fact that his friends weren't reacting with shock or horror struck him as odd, but he was too busy scrolling through his flood of DMs to give it much thought. "Fuuuuuuuck yeah bruh," he wrote back to one, his rigid log throbbing when he pulled up a message from his friend Johnny. The blonde jock had sent him a naked selfie, his own sizable cock rock hard and ready, and Wes screamed at himself when he absently started tugging on himself while staring at the picture. He'd seen Johnny naked plenty of times before, but something had clearly shifted in their relationship during the course of the horrifying events. Wes kept trying to convince himself that he'd fight it, that he wouldn't end up as some thick, hairy meathead.

Which was exactly what Gaynz had in mind. "That did it! You are officially on your way!" the notification read. "For true success, our data shows your content won't work on Tik-Tak, but don't worry, we've already set you up with an OnlyFriends account. Your audience loves watching big, hairy guys like you bottom, so put that furry bulk to work!"

Internally, Wes screamed. Externally, all he did was shrug and grunt as his body began to swell and sprout. His inflated pecs pushed out even further, the wiry carpet that covered them exploding into a dense, curly forest that spilled down like a waterfall to coat his bulging new muscle gut. The joint growth was inescapable as his arms inflated to furry pistons, the hair creeping up over his cannonball shoulders and reaching silky tendrils around his broadened sides, while his sturdy thighs became hairy pillars and his ass erupted with muscle. This time, even his face joined in, his jaw widening as the stubble that covered it grew into a thick beard. In a matter of seconds, he'd gone from a budding bodybuilder to a beefy powerlifter, his newly acquired hair growing into a curly pelt. The fat log between his legs had become even more so with the latest round of expansion, looming like a soda can above his heavier, churning balls.

Worse than the changes to his body was the knowledge of what was coming. As Wes turned away from the mirror, he saw a series of silicone cocks neatly arranged on his bed. The phone in his meatier hand no longer showed a Tik-Tak account but an OnlyFriends, and there was somehow already a profile picture of himself with his new body. As the formerly lean, smooth jock railed against his new prison of hairy flesh, Wes pursed his lips for the camera and hit record.