“So? How was my famous ‘Beefcake’? You enjoy it? Sure looks like it–there ain’t none left!” the chubby chef of the small roadside diner said, taking away Robbie’s plate.

“Don’ know…Feel…real strange. Is–Is I bigger?”

“Sounds like those ‘dumb-dumb shrimp’ ya had fer an appetizer are workin’ hard too!” the chef said. Now just hold on, dessert’s on its way, boy.“

Robbie looked around, his eyes dull. He hadn’t seen anyone else come into the dinner since he stopped…was that weird? He felt his body, the firm muscle covered with a thick layer of fat. He barely fit in the booth anymore…or had he never fit in it? And what was with this singlet? There were so many strange things going on, but his brain…it felt so empty now. He flexed his arms, watching his biceps and deltoids bulge out in the mirror behind the counter, and laughed loudly. He was big, like, big-big. And hairy–he could see the pelt on his chest and arms growing in thicker every moment, a thick bush underneath each armpit, and the shadow of a beard darkening across his face. He shouldn’t look like this…but why did he think that? Why did he think anything? It was easier–better, not to think at all, he remembered, and went back to just flexing.

"Here you go boy, my favorite dessert, my Homo’shake’sual!” the cook said, putting the milkshake down in front of Robbie. “Well? Go on, suck it all down like good little beefcake.”

Robbie expected the cook to return to the kitchen, but he just stood there, waiting and watching. Robbie wrapped his lips around the straw and sucked, the shake oddly salty, but still good. As he sucked it down, he found his eyes drawn up to the cook looming over him, his big belly covered with his soiled apron, his fat greasy face leering down at him. If Robbie had been smarter, he would have felt scared, but he was just feeling warm…and horny. He sucked down the last of the shake suddenly, surprised how fast he’d gone through it, and licked his lips. He was still thirsty, but for what?

The cook had taken off his apron, revealing clothes that looked like he hadn’t changed them in several days, if not longer, unzipped the fly of his jeans and pulled out a thick, smelly cock. “Well go on, my dumb-dumb beefcake homosexual. Give me a good blow job, and I’ll jack you off in that tight singlet of yours.”

Robbie let out a guffaw, and without a thought, inhaled the cook’s cock, flexing his muscles as he sucked him off. He was a dumb-dumb beekcake homosexual, wasn’t he? Guess he should have been more careful when the cook had warned him that he was what he ate.

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