Janicki Panicking

[6-word request: Straight jock possessed by butt-loving ghost]

Eric Janicki clicked on the camera and took a breath before hopping out to begin his informational video, beginning with his trademark spirited, “WHAT’S UP guys, I’m back and we’re going to be working on lunges today!” Despite the warm weather outside his garage gym, with its door wide open, a chill suddenly fell over him. He shivered, goosebumps rising on his arms. “First off, let’s have a quick talk about form.” He shivered again, glancing down to find his nipples rock hard, poking through his tank top.

He chuckled, blushing, and turned off the camera. “Damn,” he said reaching up to feel his rock-hard little nips. “These fuckers could cut glass. Why is it so cold in here?” He thought he heard something quiet–a whisper, maybe? A hiss of gas? But he must have just been hearing things.

A few minutes outside in the sunshine, jogging to raise his body temperature, and his hard nipples finally relaxed. He went back into the garage gym, shocked to find it still just as cold, but ignored it and continued from where he’d left off,.

“So when you’re lunging, especially with a barbell on your back, it’s very important to make sure–”

Suddenly Eric’s shorts suddenly dropped around his ankles, as if they’d been yanked. He whirled around, surprised to find no one behind him–he was SURE he’d felt somebody’s hands!--and then pulled up his shorts. “Looks like I’ll be deleting that one,” he said, readjusting his big cock in his boxer briefs. “People would go nuts if they saw my dick and bare ass online…” With a sigh, he reset and started from the top.

“WHAT’S up guys, I’m back and today we’re going to talk about–”

Eric yelped as suddenly he felt the back of his shorts jerked into the air. “FUCK!” he groaned as the shorts pulled higher and higher, going slipping hard between his giant cheeks. His face turned purple as he winced from the force of the wedgie–which continued until he was lifted right off the ground. He kicked his feet in the air, shocked as he found himself hovering near the top of the garage, his boxer briefs stretched to their limit… until they finally tore and he fell hard against the padded floor.

It took Eric a moment to catch his breath. He stood up and examined the area around him. What had just happened wasn’t possible… but there was no mistaking it. His groin and ass crack still ached from the force of the wedgie–and his boxer briefs were ripped! He held the torn shred of fabric in his hand, the other gently kneading his sore ass as he walked with a bit of a waddle back inside. He had to change. He snagged the camera on the way.

After he had changed, he reviewed the footage. Sure enough, something invisible had pulled his boxers up and he had been hovering in mid-air. “Nobody’s gonna ever believe this…” he mumbled as he watched it. He hardly believed it himself!

His shock and confusion over the incident was enough to discourage him from recording at all that day, so he set the camera down and turned away. “Maybe just… a nice little gym session will do good.” Back in his gym, he loaded up some plates on his smith machine and did some nice, wide, deep squats. It felt good just to get the stretch, to feel the bloodflow in his big glutes, quads and hamstrings. He did sets of 30 with a light weight, then racked it. He turned around and was surprised to see his camera, on its tripod, set up right behind him.

He was sure he’d left it inside.

He walked out of the garage again, surveying the area around his house. Was someone fucking with him? “Hello?” he called. His neighbor Mrs. Marsden, watering her lawn, waved at him. She was 85 years old; there was no chance she’d messed with his camera.

“Whatever,” he said. He returned to the smith machine and did a few more reps. He paused, mid-set, to readjust his shorts. The fabric was creeping into his crack, not an uncommon occurrence for a guy with glutes as big as his. He tugged the shorts out and continued. A few reps later, he felt something slipping into his butt again, tickling his hole. He shivered at the sensation, then moved to rerack the weights…

…but something grabbed hold of his arms, holding him fast to the bar. His eyes went wide as he felt an unseen force pressing him up and down, forcing him to continue squatting, as his shorts dug deeper and deeper inside him. “Fuck–FUCK…” he moaned. The shorts were stretched impossibly deep up his ass now, tickling him from the inside as he continued to bob up and down. His dick grew hard in his shorts despite his horror, and the sensation up his ass grew in intensity. Though he tried to deny it, he knew an orgasm was on its way. He tried to control his breathing, to think of car accidents or baseball to distract him, but it was too late.

A moment before he came, he saw his camera floating behind him, recording his penetrated ass and his rock-hard, precum spewing cock spreading a wet spot, all visible in the mirror. Then the big stud groaned, cumming buckets. He moaned, his muscular body twitching, sweat pouring from him as he unloaded a massive amount of cum in his shorts.

Soaked, he collapsed to the floor, bewildered. “Fuck… how… how is this…”

A mist materialized before him, forming into the shape of a face. “DAMN, boy!” boomed an unearthly voice. “That ass is UNBELIEVABLE! If I’d had cake like that when I’d been alive… Good god, the fun I could’ve had!”

Eric scrambled away from the misty form, vaguely assuming the shape of a man. It floated toward him, ghostly fingers tickling at his abs and tweaking his nipples. Eric jerked back from the contact, rolling over and crawling toward the door, but the ethereal man grabbed hold of his glutes and hoisted him into the air, squeezing so hard Eric thought his eyes might pop out.

“Relax, big boy, I’ll try to be gentle!” the otherworldly voice echoed as Eric’s rear cheeks suddenly spread. Suddenly the mist gathered behind Eric, just before rushing inside him via his exposed hole. A chill rushed through Eric’s muscular body and the big man twitched and gasped, flailing a bit before going limp on the ground.

Suddenly the big athlete sat upright, his eyes glowing purple. “Well well WELL! It feels good to be in a nice meaty body again.” He stood up, patting himself down. “Feel all this BEEF! Good lord, this body is an absolute stud.”

Eric’s body turned toward the mirror, flexing and chuckling. A halo of the ghost’s mist surrounded his head, vaguely suggesting the spirit’s presence in Eric’s body. With both hands he reached up and tore the tank top off with one powerful grunt. “WOW! Look how fucking strong I am!” He grabbed a 45-pound plate and lifted it overhead with ease. “And this ass…” He turned around and hopped in place, enjoying the pleasing bounce of his big booty.

“Oh, we can do better than this…” Eric’s possessed body said before running inside the house. “Big straight jock like this… do you live with your girlfriend?” the spirit asked, although Eric was unable to respond. His beefy jock body jogged through the house before arriving in a bedroom. Rifling through the drawers, the athlete finally produced a pair of lacy panties. “Wow! Looks like you DO have a girlfriend! She won’t mind if we borrow these.”

Eric’s fans were shocked to see him livestreaming on a treadmill wearing only a lacy pink set of women’s underwear that mostly disappeared between the huge meaty globes of his ass. With every heavy footfall, his big booty bounced and the possessed man grunted, licking his lips and looking back sensuously at the camera. “Oh, good god… Do you guys feel like a wedding planner, looking at big old cakes this fine?”

After Eric’s butt-sweat had saturated the panties, the ghostly man moved Eric’s body from the treadmill and did a handstand, ass toward the camera, before spreading his legs wide. “You think it looks good like this? Think this ass is big enough? Because I think we could go BIGGER!” Eric’s form hopped forward. Once on his feet again, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and blew hard.

Suddenly, with the sound of expanding rubber, Eric’s already enormous buttocks inflated like balloons. With each breath into his thumb, his ass grew larger. The little panties shredded and popped off quickly, but the ass kept growing. Finally, the ghostly man turned Eric around to display a bulbous shelf-of muscle, as wide as a car, where Eric’s big glutes used to be.

Eric’s hands stroked the huge glutes. Even his powerful fingers looked small on the gigantic mounds of muscle, which now had a significant layer of softness over the hard muscle. The strong hands sank into the soft flesh of the freakishly huge butt (which stuck out straight, defying gravity).

“You’re welcome for the show, Janicki fans!” the haunting voice said from Eric’s body. “And Mr. Janicki will most likely thank me for improving his greatest ASSet!” The horrifying sound of the ghost’s echoing laughter filled the garage for a few moments before the mist dissipated, the purple light in Eric’s eyes faded, and the chill in the garage was replaced by the summery outside air.

“Wait… what the…” Eric said, suddenly himself again. He took a few steps, shocked at the heavy weight he pulled behind him. He turned and felt his center of gravity shift. He felt like he was towing a parade float! He couldn’t believe his eyes as he reached down and touched his gargantuan behind. Just the feeling of his own hands on the warm, firm flesh made his heart skip a beat. Suddenly he was aware of a desire to feel someone else’s hands…

“OH shit… was… was I recording that?” Eric said as he ran to the camera, switching it off. By the time he went online to delete it, it was too late. Most of his fans had already recorded the show and were disseminating it wildly. He put up posts that he’d been hacked, that it had all been a trick, but the reality of his enormous ass couldn’t be hidden. An hour later, he stared tearfully into the mirror as he tried to yank up another pair of jeans. His powerful arms pulled and the jeans tore again, just like the last one.

He needed to see a doctor or something, he knew, but how was he going to get out of the house? Meanwhile, his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating as messages came in, alternately mocking him or complimenting his incredible show. The worst part was, behind all of his shame over the situation, deep down he was considering taking one of the mysterious strangers up on their offer to stop by to massage his newly enlarged backside. And it was only a matter of time before his resolve failed and his desire won out.