“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The chant rang through the air as Chris guzzled a whole pint of beer in one go. He slammed the glass onto the table, followed by laying his elbow into the platform as he awaited his opponent. He smirked at his old friend. “The student has become the master.” Jack finished guzzling his beer and smacked his own glass onto the table. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, caveman.” Through the hazy screen of alcohol, Chris hardly noticed the changes that had overtaken Jack. His build had become thick, muscular, yet athletically lean. Almost as if refined by hours of hunting and combat. His once short hair haphazardly dangled over his shoulders, an unkempt mess that belied the more clean cut image he normally projected.
Chris grinned. “Me chug. Me drink good. Me fight good. Now, me wrestle good.” Chris hardly noticed as his vocabulary simplified. He shuddered as the tingling spread from feet and crotch through his body and into his head. His cock had grown erect and pushed needfully against his jeans. Feeling the fabric's pleasurable friction against his cock caused a low rumble of pleasure to bubble from his chest. He hunched forward, his arm twitched in anticipation. His knuckles stood taut against the skin. His nose burned red from the alcohol that now raged through his bloodstream. He was strong, drunk, horny, and powerful. His cock twitched and a small bead of cum darkened his jeans, turning light blue to navy. All he felt was energy and lust, the encouragement and alcohol fueled buzz dampened his awareness of his own change, urging him to embrace his increasingly primal self.
A rally of hoots roared in Chris’ ears as heat radiated pushed against them from within. It felt almost as though his own heartbeat were forcing the other frat members to expand as the cool night air breezed over them. Read to arm result, Jack lifted his arm into position, flashing a set of yellowed, crooked, teeth and a noticeably longer set of canines. Seconds later, Chris' hand clasped Jack's in a grip of iron. Both furrowed their thickening brows.
His arm burned. His chest strained. His lats and traps bunched and heaved as he engaged his core, pectorals, biceps, and triceps. A low growl escaped Chris’ lips as he bared his teeth and strained against the force of his friend’s arm. He wanted to win. He needed to win, to dominate. It just … felt right. The same lust burned in Jack’s eyes as the two locked in combat. He wanted to say something snappy, but … he just couldn’t think. It was like his brain was putting all the effort into the fight, too. He spread his legs wide on his stool. His crotch strained visibly, and grew increasingly damp from the occasional shots of pre that paired with his surges of strength. Across from him, Jack's pants also tented, as he reveled in the growing power and masculinity of his friend. Chris was the last person he'd have expected to grow so dominant, a surprise that fueled a deepening lust. Finally, two rips tore through the night as the table resounded with the defeat of a
competitor.
“Oh, snap!” someone shouted as a deep, growl tinged, moan echoed through the air.
Chris gaped disbelievingly at the table. His arm was throbbing, but it held Jack’s pinned to the table, like a wrestler waiting for the final count. Jacks face was contorted into a look of primal pleasure as he came down from orgasm. Beneath the table, one could observe Chris's dominance had pushed Jack over the edge. A litter of cum stained the floor and the top of Chris's shoes. Jack's pants were soaking and his cock, now far longer, poked over the top. While he was once cut, a foreskin now graced the tip, increasing its primal vigor. The victor, Chris had yet to cum and his cock surge even larger, straining his pants nearly to the breaking point.
Neither seemed to notice or care how the sleeves of their shirts had torn in the heat of the moment or how prominent their pectorals had become as the collars strained against their torsos. Idly brushing his hair from his eyes, Chris hardly realized how long and messy it had grown.
As the adrenaline faded, the competitors heaved and finally grinned at one another.
“The winner is Chris!”