The Fusion Archive.

Heyy, i have a resquest, hope you like it:

What if a very bad, punk guy from an average college has a really Bad demeanor and is always causing trouble, so he gets transferred to a re-education that supposedly turns you into the perfect preppy boy, where forced by his preppy colleagues he gets his attitude adjusted?

It was Lucas's first time on the Davidson College campus and his first night of an after-hours "attitude adjustment" class. His ratty backpack bounced on his lithe shoulders as he approached the classroom while the other students sneered under their breaths, all heading to their dorms and homes for the evening. Lucas's ratty leather jacket, jeans, and weathered boots couldn't have stood out more harshly against the sea of button-down shirts, sweaters, shorts, chinos, and boat shoes.

Liberal arts was his major, and he was good at it - well, he would have been if he'd put in any academic effort. But to Lucas, papers, essays, and exams were all a power structure to rally against. Four years into a three-year degree, and sick of the disobedience and attitude, his college gave him an ultimatum: leave for good, or take the adjustment course at Davidson, which was a college known in academic circles for its snobby preppiness, but also its eerily successful adjustment program.

Lucas's parents certainly didn't want an unemployed, moody twenty-three-year-old back in their house, and the college was all he had. So the choice was all but made for him. He was to take the class at Davidson and lose the attitude.

Eyes toward his feet, Lucas slinked into the classroom only to run head-first into a cashmere sweater. Lucas looked up at the man who stood a head taller than him and found himself flanked by two other similar-looking students. All three men stood two to three inches taller than the five-ten Lucas, all wore their hair in similar parts, and all wore typical, semi-formal prep clothing. Another three cogs in the machine at the Davidson, Lucas thought to himself.

"You know, I don't exactly want to be here. Get outta my way and the quicker I get out off your snotty campus," Lucas stated plainly.

"Oh we know, Lucas," the middle frat boy snickered.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, how did these nimrods know his name? He also knew that despite his disregard for these types of preppy bros that he wouldn't stand a chance against one of them in a fight, let alone three. "Look, guys, I just gotta do this course, then I'm gone."

"And why do you think we're here?" said the man to Lucas's left.

"We're your instructors," chimed the third of the trio.

"Let's get started," the leader said, grabbing Lucas by the collar and pushing him to the wall. "Alright boys, you know what to do."

Lucas struggled against the large hands pinning him down while one of the others held a clear bottle in front of his face and sprayed it three times.

"Get the fuck off me, asshole!" he screamed, attempting and failing to land a lunch as the preppy jock loosened his grip.

"Not so fucking smart now are you?" the preppy student sneered at the defenseless punk who was coughing from inhaling whatever it was the group had sprayed in his face. Not only did the admittedly pleasant scent hang around in his nose, but it was like it permeated him as a whole.

Lucas fell to his knees, his head spinning. The smell in the air was so... masculine, enough to turn on even the straightest man or puritan prude.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" the main jock chuckled.

"Ah... ach... what did you do to me?" Lucas spluttered, rolling his neck.

The trio of preppy frat boys wasted no time hoisting the incapacitated Lucas into a chair, tying his limp hands at the back and switching on the projector screen at the front of the room.

Lucas coughed, unable to get the scent out of his airway. He struggled against the rope holding him to the chair, watching helplessly as the image of a black and white spiral flashed onto the backdrop ahead.

"You assholes just wait, when I get out of here I'm... gonna... gonna... I..."

All it took was a glimpse for Lucas to become slackjawed and glued to the screen, unable to continue with his useless verbal threat. The preppy men began to take turns making hypnotic commands.

"You want to be a preppy college stud."

"No, please... I don't want to be..." Lucas mumbled, almost drooling as he gazed at the spiral, feeling the mixture of the jocks' words and the substance they'd sprayed him with mingling in his head.

"You want to be like us. You don't wanna do any of that useless liberal arts shit anymore. Finance, law, engineering... real work, take your pick, that's what you wanna do."

"Finance... yeah... just like dad..." Lucas could feel his philosophical smarts draining away, replaced with business savvy and a desire to impress.

"A real prep has to know how to have fun. You wanna party with us, don't you?"

"Yeah... no! No!" Lucas tried to resist, but it was no use. The chemicals and instructions forced open new neural pathways, replacing the old Lucas with a far more extroverted one. "Uh... hell... yeah..."

"Most of all, if you wanna be like us you've gotta look the part, man. You want to look like us. You will look like a preppy frat stud."

It felt like hands were gripping Lucas's body from all directions, pushing, kneading, and tugging. Only seconds later his back cracked loudly. With a long, loud, uninterrupted moan, he arched backward as he began to grow taller. His legs pushed out along the rough carpet and his arms dangled longer at his sides.

To his horror, his jacket and shirt ruffled like they were in a gust of wind, shifting and warping. Lucas shrieked in bliss feeling his rail-thin chest puff outward to fill what was now a button-down shirt while lean abs bubbled to the surface just below.

"No, god... No... what am I... I... I... oooooohhhhhh!"

Another guttural cry echoed off the walls along with a large helping of pre-cum ejecting into Lucas's shifting underwear. His lanky arms pulsated, lean muscles bulging underneath tanning skin towards hands that were popping and jutting out larger across the floor. Sweat ran down his tied arms, dripping off the ends of his twitching, lengthening fingers.

Lucas had almost forgotten that the three preppy studs were still in the room with him, softly pawing at their thick cocks as they watched him become more and more like them.

"Feel good, bro?" one of them whispered, "Doesn't it feel fucking great to become a proper man?"

Lucas could only muster a moan and a nod, too enamored with the bulging muscles growing down his legs and his swelling, perky butt that threatened to ruin his jeans any moment. Those began to change too though, the denim becoming softer, looser, and better fitting shorts that hugged his new bubble butt.

"No, n-, n-, n-..." Lucas murmured in the death throes of his resistance as the changes progressed and took hold of his cock.

With his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open and looking up at the handsome figures towering above, Lucas felt his hard cock stir dramatically in what was now an expensive pair of underwear

"AUUUGH! Fuck yeah!"

His face and head throbbed, his jaw tightening while his cock pulsed heavier and thicker, pre-cum flowing like a fountain against his muscular thigh. Like his cock, the toes in his boots stretched longer, striking the ends of the footwear. The pressure suddenly dropped, however, when the boots themselves shifted in shape and size, becoming a fresh pair of large, size twelve boat shoes. Large soles and long, bony toes tore through the remains of his socks, inching forward to fill the jockish footwear.

At the same time, his cock was running out of room in his pants while at the same time his skull felt like it was being squeezed as it took on a squarer shape. Lucas groaned for mercy through gritted teeth that were becoming straighter and whiter. His nose shrunk cuter, while brown eyes become a striking blue. The messy black hair he'd long worn lightened in tone, combing over neat and handsome.

Before that fateful night, Lucas would have had much to say on how he shrugged off the "shackles" of beauty standards and masculinity. But now... now he knew he was beautiful, he could feel it. The lean, slim muscles and his large, swelling cock oozed masculinity, and he loved it.

The transformed Lucas sat there smiling dumbly, moaning, almost drooling as he thrust his bulging crotch upward.

The three other preppy jocks examined the now lean, handsome man head to toe and gave each other smirks of approval, and switched off the projector.

Lucas' eyes fluttered as he left the spiral's trance and the last of the catalytic chemicals in his body were used up. His balls swelled and tensed up, ready to launch their load.

"Man, I'm gonna... gonna..." Lucas growled, breaking free of his restraints and desperately fishing his cock out of his chino shorts before it launched rope upon rope of thick cum halfway across the room.

"Lucas, welcome to Davidson," the main jock chuckled, slapping the newly inducted preppy stud on the back.

"Heh, thanks, man," Lucas panted, "Call me Luke, by the way."

"Alright Luke, if you wanna put that trouser snake of yours away, Daniel here will show you where your dorm is."

Luke barely realized his long, soft cock was still out in the open. He hurriedly stuffed it back into his shorts before following his fellow prep bros to his new campus dorm.

Index

Here is an index of all my stories, easy(er) to search !

Since all my stories are quite unique, I will list them in chronological order (newest on top), with main genres specified.

Enjoy !

================================================

Original stories

That Day No One Cared (Mental Change/Corruption) - as part of @occamstfs' Viral Transformation Stories.

A Willing Puppet (Preppy tf/Identity Change) - for @fafnir19 as part of the Secret TF Writers Swap

Reiwa Rīzento (Greaser tf/Mental Change)

Conversion Powder by Eamora Co. (Gay to Straight/Straight to Gay)

Do Not Forget Who You Are (Muscle Growth/Muscle Loss/Queer Romance)

The Beatty Files (Twink tf/Muscle Loss)

How Can One Move On ? (Body Swap/Nerd to Jock)

Allahu Akbar (Muslim tf/Beard Growth/Mental Change)

A Proper Discussion (Multiple tfs/Satirical) - for April Fool's 2024

Curing the Neighborhood (Hairstyle tf/Himbo tf/Infection tf)

Consultation at Dr. Davod's : Part 1 (Hairstyle tf/Fuckboy tf), Part 2 (Hairstyle tf/Himbo tf/Reality Change) - 200 followers special

The Chechen Mod (Chechen tf/Jock tf/Queer Romance)

Investing in China (Chinese tf/Twink tf/Reality Change)

The Party at Delta Omega Gamma (Frat Bro tf/Himbo tf)

The Good Side of Life is One Good Action Away (Fuckboy tf/Non-binary tf)

Identity in Language and Thought (Tiktok tf/Mass tf)

The True Self (Douchebag tf/Corruption/Straight to Bi)

The Berkley Hills' Abandonned Frat House (Jock tf/Frat Bro tf)

The Business School's Poster-Boy (Twink to Jock/Jock to Twink)

I Am Chris Albanese (Age Reduction/Jock tf/Straight to Gay)

Unfair Competition (Nerd to Jock)

Collaborations/Reblog chains

Anyone feel like transforming me ? (Khmer tf/Bokator tf ~ Boxer tf) - from @transform4u

Your last like is your new body (Moroccan tf/Beard Growth) - from @newchangestf

Asks

Heureux Soit Celui qui Demande Sans Donner (Jock tf/Nationality Change)

DBPWH (Hairstyle tf/Jock tf/Dumbing Down) - from @alphajocklover

Immersing Myself in the Culture (Nahua tf/Twink tf) - from @peepshow321

Of Hairy Arab Men (Arab tf/Hair Growth)

Other

My recommended writers

My stance on Gay to Straight : Part 1, Part 2

Subscriber milestones : 100, 200, 400 - Thank you so much for your support !

================================================

If you're curious about what I like, don't hesitate to check my "main blog", @ykrui73 ! (If I contact you or send you an ask, chances are it's from this account ^^)

“Watch where you’re going!” snapped the businessman, Sam Milton, the newly made CEO of his father’s business. Hot coffee spilled over his suit as he quickly wiped away, glaring at the speedo wearing shirtless and skimpy man in front of him that had bumped into him. They held a rainbow flag in hand as Sam instantly knew he was from the pride parade that was nearby.

“Sorry mate,” came the relaxed and British sounding voice of the shirtless man, Sam felt he saw him somewhere as a model, but he wasn’t sure why he would ever remember that as he glared at him, as a barista came rushing over.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Milton, sir, could I get you a new order?” questioned the barista quickly, Sam shrugged.

“It’s fine, not like he put anything in the coffee,” Sam joked as he took a sip, not ever noticing the slightly tangy taste that came from the hot substance inside as he finished wiping himself off before leaving.

On the way to work, he found himself finishing the coffee before finally entering his office, sitting down with the skyline behind him, his assistant had already left a stack of files and things to do. Sam started to get to work, reviewing reports, as he started to find himself sweat. It was small at first, droplets on the back of his hand before beads started to run down his forehead. “Why isn’t the AC on?” Sam muttered, coughing as he noticed the odd gruffness off his voice, he started to unbutton himself, taking off his tie.

And then his dick started to become erect. Sam shuffled and stifled in his seat as thoughts of the parade came across his mind, not realising that he had been straight before, he just had a date yesterday! His hand slowly started to find itself on his thigh, wanting to inch closer and closer to his needy cock, he shouldn’t be doing this at work of all places, but his mind could barely respond, and his fingers grew closer and closer, coiled towards the very edge of his length and then-

“Sir,” A knock came at the open door, as his assistant stood firm in the doorway, giving them a warm smile. Sam instantly picked his hand away, focusing on them as best he could, only thinking about his body, those fuckable lips…Why was he thinking about that? Damn it, he needed to focus!

“Yes?” Sam’s voice sounded odd and distorted, he coughed to try and cover it up, wondering what was happening as sweat continued to sheen off skin.

“The investor, Mr. Clarke is on the line, the one to call about our next quarter,” informed the assistant, Sam nodded as they gave him one last smile before walking away back to their desk and closing the door behind them. Sam instantly picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mr. Milton,” Sam’s voice only grew rougher and rougher, as he felt his hand clutched around his cock through his suit pants, unable to stop himself as he started to see his hand, slowly growing paler and paler, the fingers felt longer as they started to grow and expertly maneuvered around his head.

“Mr. Milton, is it? I’m Julius Clarke of Clarke Foundations, I just wanted to speak to you briefly…” The voice paused as Milton couldn’t help but emit a low groan as he could feel his other hand starting to grow larger, wrapping around the phone in his hand as his other teased the head of his lengthening cock, starting to slither down towards his thighs as the first tears at the seams of his pants could be heard. “Mr. Milton, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a-head-” Sam yelped as his fingers stroked over the tip of his cock, the more they played with him, the more he felt himself growing as more rips were spreading in his pants, revealing more of the muscular mass of his legs underneath that started to grow, “of myself. Carry on.” Sam quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth as he started to see his cock poke through the top of his boxers and pants, throbbing as the suit pants were shedding away.

“As some of you know, some of our recent investors have been a pain in the ass-” Sam almost fell from his chair, now his knuckle stone white as it grabbed at the edge of his desk, feeling his chair pushed away slightly from under him as Sam felt his cheeks spread apart, hairs growing on the back as they began to grow and tear away the Calvin Klein boxers and seat of his pants. “And not to mention the fact that they’ve been clearly ripping us off.” The rest of the pants ripped away as Sam felt his thighs thickening, growing in muscularity as they became lean and long, stretching out beyond the desk and causing Sam to fall on his knees, only his office shirt on as he resisted the urge to moan at the feeling of his calves growing.

“Yeah, we- we should come-” Sam felt his cock twitch, still growing in girth and elongating as it flopped down between his legs, looking paler and larger as pre-cum dripped. “I mean, get over there and sort…sort it out.” Sam couldn’t breathe if he kept talking, trying to stop himself from panting and groaning as he felt his feet start to crawl forward, looking over his shoulder as his dress shoes began to split, the black shiny soles as his large pale feet started to poke through.

“Exactly, now I think you could be a strong competitor,” started the investor, the moment he said strong, Sam felt his arms flex themselves, needlessly watching the rest of the buttons from his tight shirt spray into the air as they were flexed off. Sam had always been fit, but this was something else as he started to cup his new pecs that became extremely large, swelling to the point where he could barely believe they were real. The muscular power flowed through his stomach, his once lean abs now became stronger and sturdier, growing and thickening as they were now deep crevices in his stomach. “I’m hosting a gala soon, where we could discuss this with some other members who are interested in a coalition of sorts, would you be interested?”

“Sorry,” Sam couldn’t tell if he was apologising to the investor for the noises or the meeting as he felt himself near writhing on the ground, the phone still barely in hand as he continued sweating, his cock throbbing.

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was having some people coming all the way from Britain,” It was then Sam started to find his mind rearranging, new accents and words fading in and out as he couldn’t even remember what it was like to start speaking with an American accent, his own groans and muffled moans started to sound different in his deep voice that lingered on with a new London accent. “Well, I will speak to you soon then, here’s hoping you can still come.” With that, everything went blank, business, statistics, stock prices, and so much more as Sam saw nothing but white as his dick throbbed and delivered the best orgasm of his life, spraying and coating his entire body and desk with his own cum, every single orgasm erasing Sam Milton as the American businessman, now replaced with the London model as he began to moan out loud, writhing in his own pleasure as he came again…and again…and again.

“Oh fucking hell mate, where the fuck am I?” Sam muttered to himself as he started to look around, standing up behind his desk now as a naked muscular hunk dripping with cum and sweat.

Some time had passed after the incident, Sam couldn’t remember what he was doing that day but now found himself too busy to care. The business was taken over by his father until his son was “feeling better”. His dad now started going to the same coffee shop as he did with the same guys who came from the same parade every year. It was only a matter of time before he followed his son’s footsteps.

As for Sam Milton, well he now found himself posing on the billboard across from his old office, modelling for the makeup company; Clarke Foundations. 

Definitely am a proud gay guy but i've definitely seen a few of these gay to straight tfs and they're hot af! Your writing makes me want to transform myself, hit the gym, and chug a beer with the bros regardless of sexuality!

You're letting this affect you the right way, my man. All my readers should learn from you.

It's been feeling so natural, hasn't it? The way your cock starts to grow fat in your underwear the minute I start describing a hot chick. All those guys you used to hate, the ones you roll your eyes at and claim so proudly to be different than, there's something about them that has you fascinated. You can't help it. It's like some part of yourself, deep down, is calling out to be realized. To be brought to the surface.

To be set free from the cage you've been building. You love the way I make these straight bros speak, the way they act with snide arrogance, so sluggish and dumb and yet so primal. An apex predator, an alpha, a handsome stud with rippling abs and huge biceps always flexed. A cocky smirk, a strong jaw. Not to mention the forests of damp hair beneath his arms, the sour stench of sweat, cum, and sex lingering around his body like noxious gas. He's a stink bomb that is continuously going off.

You love how he belches, how he farts and blames it on the protein, how all he cares about are his brothers. Toxic masculinity really isn't so bad when you're standing on this side of the fence. Your feet are starting to feel secure on the ground, aren't they? Wide, and long, and so firm. Dusted with wiry curls of dark hair. You feel sweat squelch between your fat toes, but you pay it no mind. You think about being surrounded by your bros, how they'll joke about your huge feet and how you must have a massive cock, too. You love the kind of men I write about. You want their respect, their approval, their brotherhood so badly.

You are the kind of man I write about. Because if your cock is getting so hard to the idea of embracing traditional masculinity, if you're about to start jerking your cock to the descriptions I will soon make, then the truth has already revealed itself. I barely have to change anything. Your bones crack and shift, your shoulders grow broad and your nose is strong, your brow harsh and your eyes blazing with dominance. Your body inflates with courage, with conceit, as your leaking, lengthening cock already starts to ooze a thick wad of pre. It's so easy to reshape the outside. Pump up the muscles, make the features a little more rugged, all I'm really doing is making the outside match the inside.

There's a familiar voice that sounds like your own calling out, demanding you to snap out of it, to value your identity and what you know to be true, that this is just a fetish and the world you're stepping into isn't the right one. But it feels so natural, so good, as that whiny voice gets drowned out under the low, domineering tone that makes its home inside your head. I want my cock in a wet cunt, the new you drawls, your wider hips bucking with pleasure and your fat cock jiggling in your tight underwear. You can see the engorged veins beneath the fabric, the fat cock head oozing pre and leaving a splotch. It jerks in place, bobs up and down, it wants so desperately to be plunged between a pair of bouncing, fat, silicone filled tits.

You throw your head back with a low, masculine moan, your meaty hand reaching down to grab your package, stroking your thumb along the shaft. Every trace of the old you, the lie you were telling, is eradicated beneath a tidal wave of new information. All that fancy college learning goes down the drain, all those old dreams and desires and falsehoods, all that's left is a powerful, straight conservative man who knows exactly what he wants. He has never questioned his instincts a day in his life, he has always known he has been an unrivaled male specimen. Wasting his superior seed and not siring a shit ton of sons would be a crime.

Your seed.

It swells in your balls, it makes you ache and tingle, all of the feelings and lust that are taking over belong to you. There's no going back. You're one cocky fucker, a man sculpted by genetics and a conservative upbringing, a man who has always known where he stands in the hierarchy. At the fucking top, with your massive muscles exposed and your fat cock pointing at the next babe it wants to erupt inside of. You continue to jerk your cock, losing all memory of my stories and my silly little kinks, all too happy to spend a night being pleasured by your callused fist knowing it'll take you no effort to get hard again. You think about which bitch you're gonna call later, the blonde with the bee stung lips or the sexy goth, and your cock pulses with the need to impregnate a fertile womb.

Your mind settles into a happy haze of sports knowledge, cockiness, and camaraderie for your fellow traditional man. Most of all, forever filling the empty space of your brain, what remains of you will be wedged in eternity between the hot, breedable women you can't go an hour without daydreaming about. A hot blonde and a brunette with huge tits are scissoring in your mind, making your red blooded cock surge with need and lust. Every last essence of the gay man you once were is smothered between rubbing folds, bouncing breasts, and oozing pussy juice. This loss of self doesn't bother you. It doesn't really feel like you're losing anything at all.

You blow your load all over your chest, basking in the afterglow for all of ten seconds, and then you lift your muscled leg and squeeze out a droning protein fart. The strong smell makes you proud, and the loud sound makes you chuckle like an idiot. Life is going to be so simple, so correct for you from now on. No going back, only forward.

Go ahead and shoot a message to your future baby mama. It's time for you to breed.

Aronik

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2017-12-03 ---

I was a bit of nerd growing up. Actually, I was a complete nerd. Round red pimples dotted my face. Chalk white skin covered my body. Bulging stubborn fat covered my torso and thighs. Taped wireframe glasses hung on my large bird nose. I was quite the looker.

That all changed one day at the beach. I dreaded going to the beach. Where I'm from, the beach was the only place the good looking people ever went. Their tanned skin, taut muscles, sun kissed hair, glowing confidence all annoyed me. It was totally because I was envious of them. My parents urged me to come with them, and I obliged because what else would I do. I hadn't any friends and although going anywhere with parents at my age was social suicide, I was buried long ago, along with my social reputation.

Anyway, this time was different. I brought a hat and kept my shirt on to avoid the ridicule of the jocks I KNEW were going to be there, like Austin Keller, the hottest guy at school and the object of my affections since fourth grade when we shared my Crayola 64 pack. He didn't know who I was anymore but under my hat and with my book covering my face I would stare all day long at his glistening smile and big muscles bouncing in action. My parents urged me to go to the water and I finally obliged when I foot hit a hard object on my way to the waves. It hurt like a train on a track so I bent down and picked up what looked to be a small golden bee.

Suddenly a man appeared and smiled, saying "Hiya! Aw thanks man you found my statue!" I was perplexed and before handing it over asked why he had this weird idol with him. He responded "I use it for a little shoot I'm running. Thanks for returning it though. Here's a little something in return." He handed me a Speedo and continued, "If you want you can help me by modeling these. Just go into the changing room and swap out your shorts for these. I'm sure they'll look great on you!" I had a humble three inches down there, and my love handles were already spilling over my current shorts, so wearing these would be even more of a reason for the jocks to humiliate me. I gave the guy a deadpan look and he reassured me: "I swear it'll compliment your look. I'm looking for people with... unique looks... so I know you'd be the right fit."

There was nothing to lose so I waddled over to the changing rooms and swapped my shorts for the speedo. The second I put them on a wave of exhaustion came over me. I collapsed and passed out in the room. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but notice how I felt. Lighter, to say the least. I looked down and noticed my shirt was tight against my stomach anymore. In fact, I didn't even have a stomach anymore. The second I put my hand, my skinnier and tanner hand, on my stomach I felt nothing but abs and tight skin. I took off my shirt and was struck by the sight. Caramel tan skin adorned my body, covering round strong pecs and a tight six pack. I looked down at my legs and noticed their impeccable definition. The speedo fit me perfectly and showed off my butt, originally large because of my fat, but now tight and muscular. My arms were no longer chicken wings but huge with trained biceps and triceps that flexed with ease. I finally glanced at the mirror and took in my new face. My new sharp eyes pierced right into my soul. My nose looked brand new, as if I had gotten the best rhinoplasty in the world. My defined jawline was so defined. My plump lips pouted and made me look so. fucking. sexy.

I wanted to check out my new package, but there was a knock at the door. "Hey pal, enjoying the speedo?" I heard a familiar voice say.

"I've never felt better." I replied, hearing my new sultry deep voice for the first time. I opened the door and met the guy, who proceeded to take me down to the water for the photo shoot. As I posed, I noticed Austin not so subtly gawking at me. I offered him a wink and instantly saw his hard on. Let's just say the changing rooms were in need of a clean up after our little session.

--- Originally posted on 2020-10-01 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

OnlyWishes

When Tim’s boyfriend jokingly wished to be an OnlyFans star so that he could help pay off their bills for the month, Tim had only laughed and shoved the twink playfully. “Sure, babe. Just as long as I’m in all of your videos.”

Little did they know, I was listening. Two wishes for the price of one are rare, but I was feeling generous that day. If Tim’s boyfriend wanted to be a star and rake in the cash, then I could make it happen. Things just had to change.

Skinny blonde twinks are boring. They’re just a quick web search away. He wanted to be every gay boy’s forbidden desire? So be it. Watch him start to stretch taller, watch his muscles begin to bloat, smell him sweat like a pig.

All Tim can do is look on in fear as before his eyes his sweet boyfriend is quickly replaced by another man. A flash of blue light and then the form of a hulking monster taking over everything that made Tim’s boyfriend… well, his boyfriend.

“Fuck, bro,” is all the new beast cares to say, smelling like the inside of a gym sock and smirking like he’s done something worthwhile. This isn’t Tim’s boyfriend, not anymore. Tim’s boyfriend hadn’t been an OnlyFans star.

“Time for a new video,” the bro says, stomping closer to Tim. That’s when he remembers his own wish, to be in every video with his boyfriend, glancing down to see the thick python straining the stranger’s sweatpants. But then…

It’s not even erect. He looks up into his former boyfriend’s eyes, and the dude isn’t even paying any attention to him. He glances at the room as it changes, weights on the floor and cum stained jock straps hanging off everything.

Posters of chicks with big tits on the walls. A fleshlight with pussy lips lying on the messy bed. He covers his nose, suddenly trapped in the lair of a straight man, forced to watch him stomp closer and closer to his prey.

And then the man walks straight into him, slamming his chest against Tim’s cheek. But to the young gay’s dismay, he finds himself unable to pull away. He lifts his hands to the two beefy pillows, only to watch his fingers sink inside.

He starts screaming, trying to free his body, but it only takes a matter of seconds until the room is silent and the fighting stops. Tim’s perspective changes, feeling heavy and bloated and so warm. Something rubs against him. He can’t speak.

“Oh, shit,” a deep voice rumbles through him, followed by booming laughter. He feels himself start to bounce, up and down until he feels almost sick. “Yeah, you fags love my pecs. Watch ‘em twerk.” Tim tries to cry out, but he can’t. He’s nothing but a money maker for his former boyfriend now.

“Stay subscribed, ass eaters, next week is the fart video y’all freaks keep requesting. Whatever, as long as I get paid! That’s all that matters!”

Tim nods in agreement. It’s all he can do,

You might like this, @mrrharper

One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys

--- Originally posted by TheBurdenBorne before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

"Excuse me ma'am, have you seen my son in your store?"

I had searched every store in the mall and was beginning to worry. Jake usually was fine on his own, but when we met his friend Riley her at the mall and they wanted to go off shopping by themselves, I should have seen this coming.

"What does he look like?" said the young woman.

"Well, he was with a friend. They're both fourteen. Jake is skinny, has blonde hair -- sort of a skater look to him. Riley has brown hair, a little heavier. Have you seen them?"

"Hmm...was he wearing a black hoodie?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Two guys came in here that sort of sound like your son and his friend. One of them left a hoodie in the dressing room. Do you want to see?"

"I guess so," I said as I nervously followed the girl to the back of the store. When we entered the dressing room, I could hear two guys talking.

"Dude. That suit totally rocks!" "I know right! Can't wait to try it on the waves, dude."

The young man pulled open the door on his stall and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked like he was eighteen -- in the prime of his life. He had shoulder length blonde hair and was clearly a beach-bum surfer type of guy. He was shirtless and wearing only a swimming suit, which showed off his smooth tan chest and lean muscles. His friend was more built, but also shirtless. He had spiky brown hair and was wearing a bone necklace and sunglasses.

"Alright, sir. Here's the hoodie that you were looking for."

"Yeah, that belongs to Jake," I said, still worried that I wouldn't track down my son. But I overheard the two surfer guys again and something pricked up my ears.

"So, Riley. D'ya wanna hit the beach later?" "No prob, man. See ya there, Jake-o"

" Jake-O" I thought to myself. Could these guys coincidentally have the same names as my son and his friend. I had to ask.

"Um...excuse me, but are your names Jake and Riley."

"Yeah, why?" said the blonde.

"Well, I'm looking for my son and his friend. They have the same name."

I saw a look of fear in the blonde surfer's eye, as if he was trying to fight through something and tell me.

"Jake?" I said. "Is that you?"

"Dad?" I heard him whisper. "You have to help us. You have to get out of --" He struggled to say the words, but before he could finish. Riley lunged at me and knocked me into one of the dressing stalls.

"Shh...old man. You're gonna be okay." Jake ran into the stall and helped Riley restrain me. He no longer was trying to help and must have given up the old Jake completely. Riley took off his bone necklace and forced it around my neck. When he did, I felt warm and relaxed. They stood up and let me recover.

"How d'ya feel," asked Riley.

"What are you guys trying to do to me?" I asked.

"Just relax, you'll notice in a moment," said Jake.

I stood up and noticed that my aging 40-yr old body was starting to transform. My gut shrank. My muscles grew strong again. I looked in the mirror and saw my hairline return to the way it was when I was in high school. My hair grew too and looked like it was bleached blonde. As I lost weight and gained muscle, I began to feel young again. I took off my glasses because I didn't need them anymore.

"Here, try this on," said Jake as he handed me a dark red swimsuit. I stripped down naked and saw how tan my skin was. All of the old body hair seemed to fall away and I was left with a smooth tan chest, firm pecs and abs, and a lean, muscular torso. The swimsuit cupped my youthful bulge comfortably and smelled like the ocean.

"Dude, you're almost done."

I listened to Jake and Riley start to talk about surfboards, beaches, and how they were spending their summer vacation. I started to forget the years of marriage, my job at the insurance office, my college years. Everything started to become simple. I had just graduated from high school and was spending my time at the beach surfing. I lifted weights a little, partied, used a skateboard instead of taking the bus. I had no job -- just the beach and my friends.

"Alright, let's hit the beach!"

"See ya there, Riley," I said. "Jake and I will ride together." Jake was my new best friend. I never remember having a son.

As we walked out, the woman running the store turned to me and said, "Glad you found them!"

"Thanks!" I said back.

"C'mon, Nick," I heard Jake call from outside the store.

I had my whole life ahead of me!

A Gamer's Dream

--- Originally posted on 2018-01-14 by paradisetf ---

You ever played the Sims? Maybe Fallout 4? Any game with character customization really.

Ever wanted to BE the character you made? Most likely, right? Well, then you’ll love The Gaming Paradise.

But, do you know how this mystical shop came to be? Well, let’s start with our favorite Admin.

Alex was your normal hardcore gamer. His life was basically eat, sleep, and play games. It was always fun for him. He could make the characters do whatever he wanted.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t too kind on that front. He was picked on constantly. Whether it was his lanky body or how he obsessed over games, one way or another, some jock found a way to humiliate him.

But that all changed one day when a package arrived on his porch.

“Huh? I didn’t order any game. Why is this here?” He said, puzzled.

Last he checked there were no new games releasing, and certainly not from… wait, who even was this from?

Alex looked down and saw a note on the ground, underneath the box. He picked it up and opened it, being careful to not rip the paper.

“You are now the admin. Play this to begin. -L” It said.

Confused yet intrigued, Alex grabbed the box and stepped inside.

He ran into his room, opening the box and seeing a disc for the PlayStation. Kicking off his shorts he placed the disc inside and sat down on his couch.

“Welcome, Admin. Please enter your name.” The game said.

Alex wasn’t sure what the game meant by “admin”, but he shrugged it off.

Entering his name, an avatar popped up. When it did, he jumped. It looked… exactly like him!

Alex was tempted to turn the game off and throw it out… but something pulled him in. It was like he was destined to play it. Alex sighed as the game spoke again.

“Please confirm the changes you’d wish to make to your avatar.” It said.

“Well, it’s just a game… and my TV does have a built-in camera… so that’s probably how it made it.” He thought, trying to rationalize what was happening.

He thought about what he wanted to look like… big, beefy, like those damn jocks that always pushed him around.

He wanted to be hot, much more attractive then them. He wanted to be smarter than them. Better than them. He started to grin.

He edited the appearance of his avatar as he felt a searing pain pass through his body. He felt his facial features rearranging, his jawline getting more rugged and defined. He could feel his adam’s apple grow in his throat. His eyes changing from a murky brown to a deep blue. His skin becoming nice and golden. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

He felt his body expand, muscles filling out in places that he didn’t even think possible. His legs, arms, chest, everything. He felt his shaft lengthen, filling out his pants as his ass and balls steadily grew.

He was changing, and as much as it hurt… it felt good too. As the pain subsided, Alex looked down, seeing the new shredded body he had, matching the avatar on the screen.

“Modification complete. Building Gaming Paradise.” The game spoke, as Alex, still admiring his body, felt the ground underneath him shake.

He braced himself as the room changed around him, going from standard to luxurious. He looked out the window when the shaking stopped.

He was no longer in his house, but rather on the second floor of another building.

“Admin assignment complete. Good luck.” The game said, shutting down.

Speechless, Alex ran downstairs, seeing a shop full of games.

“What… is this mine?” He said. He heard the same voice of the game, not from his mouth, but in his ears. It replied to him.

“Yes, Admin. You are my master now. Your goal is to bring enrichment to peoples lives under thr guise of a game store clerk. I will be your guide on this mission. Please run Gaming Paradise with care.” It said.

Alex smirked, gears turning in his head. “Oh boy, this is gonna be fun.” He said, as he flipped the sign in the door from closed to open.

Enjoy, everyone! So glad people are liking Alex. He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he? Stop by your local Gaming Paradise, and he’ll be sure to get you the game that’ll make your wildest dreams come true.

Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

The girls in the locker room snickered behind her back as Janet pulled off her gym shirt. They didn't have to shower before class (thank God!) but everyone needed to change out of their sweaty gym clothes. Janet always felt like an outsider and didn't have many friends in her class. It was partially to do with her tomboyish features: tall, lanky, flat-chested, a little bit muscular; but also because she preferred "guy" things to "girl" things. She was the youngest in her family and her twin older brothers let her tag along with their friends growing up. They were always skateboarding, riding dirt bikes, wrestling, or getting into trouble. It was a great childhood, but that all changed in late middle school. Her brothers where in high school now and their friends thought it was weird to hang out with a middle-school girl. And so she was left on her own. Now a junior in high school, Janet was isolated and lonely. She heard someone laughing nearby and tried not to look up. They were around the corner of a row of lockers, but she overheard anyway (that was probably the point anyway...)

"...such a freak. I mean, did you see her in the weight room..." "...what girl bench presses that much..." "...a girl with a dick, that's who!"

Janet tried to fight back tears as the laughter continued. She didn't have a dick, of course. She was a woman, but sometimes wondered if maybe she was transgender. She liked guys, not only because she could relate to them better, but because she was attracted to their bodies. Was that why she liked lifting? Was it because she wanted to be a man?

The laughing continued.

"Bitches..." Janet whispered under her breath. That was a mistake, because the laughter stopped. She would pay for that later, she was sure of it. These girls were your typical high school "mean girls" and she was an easy target for them.

"Hey Janet," one them called out. "The boy's locker room is on the other side!"

"Yeah, you must have wandered in here by mistake," said another girl.

They walked formed a circle around her and laughed. Janet grabbed her gym bag and ran out of the locker room before they saw her crying. She was so worried they were following her, that she sped up. As she turned the corner, she ran headfirst into a group of guys coming in from the gym and tripped. One of the guys caught her as she fell. His name was Cody, the captain of the basketball team and one of the tallest, fittest, guys at her high school.

"Sorry..." Janet mumbled.

"Dude, it's fine," Cody answered.

His basketball jersey was damp with sweat and the smell of his body odor mixed with deodorant and body spray was musty and raw.

"Hey, I know you," he added. "You're Davey's little sis, right?"

Her older brother David had played basketball, so they probably were on the same team at some point in high school.

"Yeah, that's me" she added as she grabbed her bag and tried to leave the conversation.

"Woah, dude, why don't you play. You'd be great," he said. His kindness made his face look even more attractive. But Janet saw that the girls were leaving the locker room, so she didn't answer and snuck out of the gym to the parking lot.

At home, she kept thinking about what she had overheard that day. It left her feeling empty and confused. Her parent's were gone that night, so she spent the night playing video games online. She was a big fan of games that were by no means "girly." It started with games like "Halo," "Borderlands" "Call of Duty", but she was a huge fan of "Gears of War." She always seemed to identity with the hyper-masculine heroes of the games, with their strong muscles, heavy guns, and no bullshit attitudes. Even when there was an option to build a female character in a video game, she almost always made herself the biggest, tankiest, brute, and played melee style.

That night, she was playing with random guys all over the world. It was commonplace for them to either not care about her gender, or just assume she was a guy. Though some might say that was sexist, she didn't care. She just wanted to be one of the guys anyway.

That night, she had a strange dream. It started as a scene from the video game earlier that day. Her squad was clearing out a bunker, but it transformed into her high school locker room. There she was, standing in the middle of the guys locker room. She saw a group of guys showering, there wet asses covered in soap and their hair matted down on their faces. She saw Cody, his calves round, his thighs thick, and his muscled bubble butt. She felt uncomfortable, but no one seemed to notice her. She started to back away when she heard someone shout out, "Look guys, Janet's got a cock!"

She stared down at her crotch and saw that she had a massive boner sticking out from her naked body. She heard echoes of laughter from all sides, but couldn't escape the dream. All around her were shadowy figures taunting her.

"Be strong. Be yourself. Fight. You have to fight. You have the strength. Fight through. Be strong."

Her hands curled into fists and she felt a primal, almost orgasmic rage, rise within her. When she lifted up her arms, she saw that they were ripped with muscle and covered in tattoos. Her chest and abs were chiseled and she felt taller. She took the stance of a fighter and landed a punch on one of the shadowy beings. She let out a grunt of satisfaction and turned to swing her hand across the jaw of another shadow.

"Good. You are a fighter. You are stronger than them. You must fight."

The fighting continued until all the shadows were gone. She let out a shout and pumped her fists together. Suddenly, the dream ended and she jumped up in her bed.

She turned on the lamp next to her bed and saw that she was back in her normal body. Her heartbeat was racing, but she knew it was just a dream. Probably caused by playing video games too late at night. She turned the light off and tried to go back to bed.

The next day at school, Janet figured there would be bullying. But she wasn't prepared for what she found on her locker. Someone had cut out a picture of her head and taped it onto a bodybuilder. Written across the top was "Roid Janet" and "Tranny Janny" (both new ones to her). She tore down the picture and walked away from her locker. She knew everyone was watching her, so instead of just hiding in the bathroom, she actually went and sat in her car. She pounded her fists on the steering wheel and thought to herself, "Why do I have to be a girl..."

Just then, she heard a voice in her head start to talk. "You are not a girl. You are a man. You are a fighter. You can become what you want. You choose to become strong. You choose to become a man. You choose to stop being Janet. When you become a man, Janet no longer exists. No one will know who Janet is. You will become a new person. A new man."

The voice grew louder in her head and she just laid back in her seat and let the voice put her into a deep trance. In this trance she felt strong, she felt powerful. At one point, it felt like she was having an orgasm, but it was different than anything she had felt before. But before she climaxed, it went away and the trance faded. She didn't want the teachers looking for her, so she back inside. But everyone was shuffling the halls as usual. What was strange was that no one made eye contact with her. This wasn't completely out of place, but it felt different somehow. She went back to her locker, but the combination she tried didn't open.

She banged her hand on the door, but no one stopped and looked. She stood in the middle of the hall and felt invisible. A nerdy kid that she had never seen before walked over to "her" locker and opened it. He took off his hoodie and hung it up on one of the hooks. It looked like all of her books and pictures were gone. On the intercom, she heard an announcement:

"A reminder to all students that the assembly with celebrity fighter and trainer Andy Hunt will start in the gym at 9:00 AM." She walked down the hall and passed the group of girls that bullied her staring at a poster. They were giggling about a shirtless man that was flexing. It was a poster for the special assembly. "OMG, he is SO sexy," they said casually. These girls paid no attention to Janet, even she was standing right next to him. Something about this man's body seemed familiar, like something she had seen in a dream.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered.

"Who is this?" said the voice on the other side.

"Janet, who are you?"

"Don't worry Janet. You are going to be fine. Just listen carefully."

"What! Who is this?"

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is who you are. Who you are becoming. Go to the locker room by 9:00. Andy needs his phone."

"Andy? Who is Andy? What's going on."

The caller hung up and she saw that the screen of her phone looked different. The time was 8:55. She had no idea what was happening, but saw that the halls were emptying out as everyone gathered in the gym.

She followed carefully, but the phone in her hand kept pinging with messages and text.

"Where r u, Andy?"

"Andy, you have less than 5"

When she entered the room, she saw a crew of cameramen and people waiting for the assembly to start.

"Andy, thank God you're here!" said a short thin man with a bald spot.

"I'm not Andy," Janet wanted to say, but the man was dragging her by the wrist.

"Just wait in the locker room until your cue, alright!"

As Janet walked down the hallway, she started to feel dizzy. She turned right, but the man laughed.

"Wrong way, Andy -- the men's room is that way" he said, pointing down the hallway on the left.

"Men's room, but, I ... uh ... what is going ..."

Janet turned down the hallway and walked through the door into the boy's locker room. It felt like dream. The room seemed steamy and Janet started taking off her clothes. As she stripped, she heard the voice again.

"Andy, you are so close. You are ready. Look at yourself Andy. You are strong. You are popular. You are an inspiration. You can be the man you want. You can inspire others to greatness. Look at yourself Andy."

Janet turned toward a mirror and saw the face of Andy Hunt staring back. This was the face of the man she always dreamed of being. His eyes were dark. He had a beard and styled hair. His bulging arms were tattooed. His chest strong, with only a little hair between his pecs. His abs were perfect and below was a forest of dark hair and a massive towering cock.

"Let go Andy. Allow yourself to let go."

Janet took the massive cock and stroked it back and forth. With every invigorating stroke, her mind emptied and she allowed herself to drift away. The sensation of being this man in the mirror took control. Andy wanted this, so Andy kept going. With a few thrust, Andy sprayed come into the sink and felt a wave of relaxation wash over him. Usually, he wouldn't do this before a show, but today felt different. He cleared his throat and spat into the sink. Outside, he heard people chanting his name.

Andy walked over to a bench and pulled out his underwear and the track suit and fitness wear with the words "Andy Hunt: Trainer" printed on them. He saw his luggage for the rest of the tour.

As the crowd chanted his name, Andy took the stage as high energy music played. He dropped down and did twenty push ups in rhythm as they cheered. He walked over to the microphone and greeted the group.

"Hello! Hello!"

Over the course of his show, he encouraged everyone in the room to commit to being themselves, to become strong, to stand up for what they believed, to transform their lives. Afterward, he took selfies with adoring fans, gave them advice, and signed their notebooks. He posted some of the pictures on his massively popular Instagram and Twitter pages. Tomorrow, he would train a local gym to stay fit, but then continue the tour. His message was empowering and he wanted everyone to feel like they had the power to make their dreams a reality.