Transformation - Blog Posts
It’s easier for the caterpillar to die than to grow wings. You cannot choose ease when splendor demands difficulty.
Transcript & Invitation to Join Challenge - Understanding Parallel realities
My favorites stories (of 2024)
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Hi all, another year is almost over.
I wanted to take a moment to revisit some of my new favorites stories posted this year as well as some old-but-gold posts posted over the last couple years!
First, I want to put into spotlight some stories but out by authors that started out this year:
Catch! (βΓΦ) by @johnbrand
The Witch's Transformation part 1 and part 2 by @keozrb
Spare Parts by @yellowjestertfs
Personal Muscle, Uniform Included by @mrrharper
Miserable Nerd by @alphajocklover
Revenge: Jock Bro Style by @czascornertfs
The Jockrooms by @jockbroski34 (technically started in December of 2023, but...)
Some other reasonable mentions from seasoned authors this year would be:
The Silent Sentinel by @axeeglitter
Reversal Agents II: Going Back, the 2024 sequel to The Reversal Agents by @misctf
Immersive Mode™ by @artificial-transmutations
Be Kind Rewind (Fan title) by @salmonskinrolltf
americanalphajockbro.mp3 by @transform4u
3TH93USA by dumb-and-jocked (thank you for all your stories!)
AL:IV Everycop by @occamstfs
Next up are my old-but-gold favorites. Some of these authors have written dozens of stories and it was hard for me to pick just one favorite to recommend, but alas I can't make the post too long!
New Surf Instructor by @amalianetwork
Pledging the Frat by @agmsye
Mermaid Sire by @fafnir19
Construction Crew Recruitment by @bluecollarmcandtf
Well on your way (Fan title) by @bodriversblog
The Long Game by @captainmalewriter
Himbo Haunted House by @cinaedefuri2
Pills and Cubes by @deviantknight25
Rogue Muscle Drone by @dougtfs
Kristian by @fullfriendnerdpurse
Veni, vidi, vici by @guytransformedforever
Chess Rivals (Fan Title) by @hyphyphurray
Midnight Snack by @inanimatetffantasies
Pool Table by @jakelandry
Sentenced to Grow by @jd07201990
End of Shift by @joshslater (Phenomenal story, cruel and dystopian but super hot)
Making Todd by @joyfullovepirate
Get Digitized by @just-a-jock (Such a cool theme to write about. Would love to see more digitization-related stories!)
Replacing His Shirt by @mrcavanaughtf
Listen Up: Swimmer by newyoutf
The Box by @omnitf (and their many other excellent stories!)
Genieus Barber by @rakurairagnarok (Fellow Dutchie 🇳🇱)
Boxered into a promotion by @rozza22365 (I must admit it was hard to pick a favorite, haha)
Doctor's Orders by @king-craftsman
Magic Hoop by @the-tfstation
Career Day by @thetfchangingroom (One of my all-time favorites)
Oliver, the handyman by @the-volunteer-host
Terminal Boredom by @transformhim
Model Job by @octuscle
I also want to highlight that there are other good sites that also host great stories, here's some I'd recommend:
Thank me later, bro (Fan Title) by @adonker811
My Roommate Gives Me Nicknames by Derek Williams (From the good old NCMC days...)
Brothers in Arms by @idesofrevolution
Fantasy Models by Lusty Stallion
Permanent Vacation by Nameless
Won't let them change me by realhankmccoy
The Pred Policeman by RotherhamMan
Tailgating by TheBurdenBorne (originally posted on DeviantArt)
Swimming Confidence by ZacharyEverlust
If at this point you are still reading this post, thank you. Not too get too sappy but I really wanted to shine on a light on just how many amazing authors there are, some of which even still actively write stories today! Surely, there are some authors I may have forgotten but I think this is a good start!
I also want to quickly say thanks to blogs like @imsrtman, @bratboy197 for liking, reblogging, and archiving posts for everyone to keep reading. In this corner small corner of the internet where stories get taken down, authors move to different platforms, and some disappear into thin air it's nice to know not all stories are lost!
Furthermore, I want to give a special thanks @mrrharper for the good company and his tremendous help with proofreading some of my stories. As well as others in the community I have chatted with or helped archive more old stories!
Lastly, I hope this post motivates you to read and heart some of these great stories or perhaps inspire you to start writing your own!
-user2112001
New Policeman
this is my first story, I hope you like it, if you see any mistake or something to improve don't hesitate to comment it, thanks.
-----
Niko didn't know how he had ended up in this situation.
Everything was rather confusing.
He was at the Edgewood police station in Florida, in a room with several soundproof panels scattered around, though not so many as to resemble a recording booth, but enough to isolate the noise. The room contained only a two-legged white table and black acrylic conference chairs on either side.
It resembled a movie interrogation scene, with the only difference being the lights. Instead of a table lamp used to shine directly in his face when the officer demanded answers, there was, fortunately for him, a ceiling fan circulating the air in the room.
Niko began to recall everything that had led him to this situation. He had initially been at Fuego Night Club, having a good time. Niko couldn't help but think of Rosalina, although her real name was Anya. The nickname came from her appearance: a woman in her early twenties with blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, a white T-shirt, and black (or dark blue, he couldn't tell due to the nightclub lighting) shorts, fair skin, and star stickers on her cheeks.
He had been sitting on one of the club's sofas, enjoying himself and not thinking about anything in particular (thanks to the incredibly loud music). He took his plastic cup and took a big sip of his Blue Hawaii, sighing with pleasure. He placed the cup on the table and headed to the dance floor.
He walked with confidence but with enthusiasm, feeling the heat rise due to the rum in her drink. He started moving in tune as a remastered version of Onyra's "The Monster" began, moving his shoulders up and down, raising an arm when the music hit the speakers.
Niko closed his eyes when he decided to let the music take control, like a puppet whose master guided its movements but with some self-control to avoid hitting anyone. He felt the other people on the dance floor bump into him and move around him, several people brushed against his back or arms, but only for a few seconds before they pulled away.
When he opened his eyes, he snapped back to reality, feeling the ecstasy of the music recede, along with his fatigue. He weaved and zigzagged his way through the crowd to exit, and after a while, he was out of the crowd.
When he returned to his area, he sat down and let himself sink into the seat. He looked toward the table where he had left his drink and realized it was no longer there. He scanned the area in case someone had accidentally knocked it over, but it wasn't on the floor.
"Perhaps someone took it," he reasoned. Niko turned his head in both directions, looking at the people in the other seats and checking the drinks they held. But there was no trace of his Blue Hawaii.
He let out an annoyed sigh.
He spun on his heels and headed towards the crowd gathered around the drinks bar. After some maneuvering, as there were other people trying to get drinks or staking out their spots for conversations, which he despised, though he couldn't deny he had done the same before.
He observed one of the bartenders behind the bar. He was young, perhaps in his mid-thirties, Latino (he didn't know from exactly where), short hair and a neatly groomed beard, and brown eyes. He wore the standard uniform, consisting of a black T-shirt and pants. He was serving two beers to a group of patrons and briefly glanced up, probably to check for new customers approaching.
Niko raised his hand to get his attention, and the bartender nodded, approaching him. He announced his order, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the music, but it was audible as the bartender nodded and began preparing the drink.
Niko reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet, and paid with a five-dollar bill. When he took the drink, he took a sip. It was refreshing, followed by the warmth of the rum. He moved back to his spot, but now there was no place to sit because a girl, whom he would later learn was named Estela, was sitting but occupying two seats, leaving enough space on either side but not quite enough for someone (unless they were quite skinny) to sit comfortably.
He approached, leaning toward her, taking her by surprise as she instinctively moved her body back in an attempt to create distance. Although it didn't help much as her body hit the backrest of the seat. Seeing her reaction, Niko stepped back to give her space, trying to convey that he had no ill intentions.
Although it seemed the girl didn't see it that way as she appeared nervous. Niko spoke, hoping the music wasn't too loud to convey his message, informing her that he just wanted to sit.
But it seemed the girl was unwilling to respond, just looking at him, trembling. Niko gave up, turning on his heels and heading toward another section of the nightclub.
After another zigzag through the crowd, he found a spot on the other side of the dance floors, at the opposite end of where his seat was, near the speakers. The loud music drowned out any thoughts, and even laughter and conversations were muffled.
He stood there, enjoying the moment, when someone tapped his shoulder. As he turned, he noticed it was an older man in his late forties, pale skin, worn and plump build, wrinkles on his face, pronounced dark circles, and a fairly prominent receding hairline. He was wearing a light brown shirt and beige pants.
There was another person behind him, a man with black hair, in his thirties, maybe a bit older, with a sturdy build, dressed in a black T-shirt. The attire of a security personnel.
The older man said something, but it couldn't be heard. Niko pointed to his ears, annoyed. In response, he took out his phone, pressed a few keys, and turned the phone to show Niko directly in his face. On the screen, against a black background, probably one of those note-taking apps, was written in white letters,
<Come with us.>
Niko was perplexed by the request. Why would they be calling him? He looked at the man, who then turned and started walking. After a few steps, Niko noticed the security guy standing where he was, staring at him with an expression that made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to restrain him if he didn't follow.
Niko didn't want any trouble, so he followed them.
As they exited the club, they were greeted by a gust of cool air, but Niko noticed two police officers present on the premises. One officer was talking to two girls a few meters away, though it was hard to make out exactly what they were saying. Only one of them was visible, gesticulating quite a bit, while the other was mostly obscured by the officer's figure, with only one of her limbs visible on the side.
The other officer remained by the vehicle, leaning against the passenger door, looking toward the entrance, waiting. When the older man exited, he stepped aside and stood upright. He approached when Niko and the security guard continued. The older man stepped aside, leaving the officer face to face with Niko, who was still confused."
The officer grabbed his arm, the grip firm, and shoved him into the patrol car despite Niko's protests. He raised his head to continue protesting, but the officer was already moving to the other side of the car, making way for passersby who wasted no time in pulling out their phones and began recording, blinding him with the flashlights they had presumably activated for better visibility.
The older man turned and entered the building, closing the door behind him, leaving the security guard at the door, staring at him and with the doors closed.
He heard the driver's side door open, and Niko turned to see the officer.
— This is a mistake. — Niko began, but it seemed the officer had heard those words before, as he said nothing.
— You have to listen to me. — Niko persisted.
But the officer snapped, "Be silent."
The tone he used made it clear he wasn't joking, so Niko obeyed. He could hear the voices of people talking on the street and sensed the seconds passing as camera flashes went off. After a while, almost thirty minutes later, they arrived at the station.
They pulled him out of the vehicle when it stopped. Some officers were coming out of the door. They had taken away all his personal items – house keys, cap, wallet, and consequently his ID card, and his cell phone – and placed them in a tray, which was taken by another officer who headed toward the door they had entered through initially.
The officer took him by the shoulder and led him into a waiting room where he could be observed at all times. It appeared he had company, as there were three people sitting in rows of tables scattered throughout the area, serving as a waiting room, with desks arranged in columns, three by six. Several officers sat at their respective desks, typing or answering calls, while others conversed before looking at some papers. It looked more like a scene from a movie set in an office.
The officer sat him in one of the chairs in the makeshift waiting area. Niko watched him walk away, disappearing around the corner. He remained seated, staring in that direction, waiting to see him return.
— Stand up.
"Heard someone calling, which startled him as he was caught off guard. He centered his attention on the person who had called him, and in front of him stood a woman, dressed like the others. Brown hair, tanned skin, perhaps in her thirties, with a serious expression on her face.
Niko simply obeyed. He didn't know how much time had passed, even though he started counting (he had reached five hundred and fifty-six) and only stopped when he began to feel drowsy out of sheer boredom.
Perhaps an hour passed, although it felt like five to Niko. He felt the door open, and a officer in his late forties, white, with a neatly groomed three-day beard and a pronounced mustache, and brown eyes, appeared. He wore the standard uniform and looked at Niko without showing any expression, approaching the table.
— Stand up.
<<Is this some kind of joke? How many more times are you going to make me stand up?>> Niko complained, but he did as ordered and stood up from the chair.
That's when they led him into this new cinematic room. He waited there for about ten minutes before the door opened again. This time, it wasn't a police officer, and the person wasn't even dressed as an officer. He was wearing a light gray tuxedo.
As if he had done this many times before, he approached the table, took the remaining chair and moved it aside, causing it to screech, and then sat down. He remained silent, staring at Niko as if he were a zoo animal.
He sat like this for what seemed to be ten minutes, although Niko was no longer sure.
— ¿Can I know why I’m here? — Niko finally asked.
The man seemed to smile, although the smile was small.
— Of course you can. — the man said, though his voice was higher-pitched than his appearance suggested. "You overstepped with a girl."
The news took Niko by surprise. Overstepped with a girl? But he didn't even try to talk to anyone... Then, as if it were presenting itself in his mind, the image of the girl he had asked for a seat came to his mind.
— I wasn't overstepping with her; I just asked for the seat— Niko stated.
— We know. Estela already confessed it to us.
Happiness welled up in Niko, and it was evident in the smile on his face.
— ¿So, can I go back home then? — Niko didn't hide his happiness.
The man in the suit let out a disappointed sigh.
— It's not as simple as that.
The smile vanished from Niko's face.
— But you said...
— I know what I said. — the man in the suit interrupted. — But did you think about what people saw?
Niko shook his head. Now that he thought about it, he was right. Not only had people seen him in the patrol car, but the officer had also turned to face the onlookers.
— Exactly. — the man in the suit continued, raising his index finger. — The evidence might disappear, but people have probably already shared your face on social media.
Niko hadn't thought about that either.
— Which means. — the man in the suit went on. — anyone who recognizes you, whether they were inside the nightclub or in the waiting room, will spell serious trouble for you.
Niko brought his hands to his head, looking down at the table. It felt like his world was falling apart.
— But don't worry; it's not the end of the world. — the man said reassuringly.
Niko looked up but didn't remove his hands from his head.
— We can give you a new life.
That didn't sound entirely certain, as if he could wave a magic wand and make the incident disappear from people's memories.
— What about the videos? — Niko asked.
— We'll make them disappear. — the stranger replied.
The stranger turned the page on the table without taking his eyes off Niko and then slid it in front of him.
Niko glanced at the paper, not paying much attention as the man took a pen from his pocket and placed it on the table. Written on the sheet was a declaration that Mr. Niko Lingray allowed the Florida Supreme Court to take responsibility for providing him with accommodation and enough money to subsist, in exchange for working a thirty-six-hour weekly schedule for an annual salary of seventy-five thousand dollars.
And below are several clauses, with the first one stating that you cannot engage in a second job. You must fulfill your duties and possess the necessary skills to perform them," the man explained.
— Is any of this legal? — Niko asked.
The man leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, still smiling.
— Of course, it is. You're applying for a job.
Niko felt that the situation was far from just a job application. But thinking about the situation, he didn't have many options. He could refuse, but just walking down the street and having people stare at him as if he were dangerous, and knowing that he might be hounded by people without any decency asking why he did what he did, wasn't a life worth living.
Niko gave in. He knew he didn't have a better way out of the situation. He picked up the pen from the table and began signing the paper. His signature consisted of his name written in cursive, with the 'N' in uppercase, curving into a serpentine pattern that connected with the 'I'.
The man in the suit took the paper, rose from his chair with a grating noise, and left the room. The door closed behind him. Now alone, Niko began to contemplate the situation he was in. So much had happened in just one day, and fatigue was catching up to him. He just wanted this to be over soon.
Niko waited and felt the room getting warmer. He sensed the gusts of air from the fan, but they had turned warm, adding to the heat. He waved his hand, trying to fan himself, but it didn't seem to work. He wondered if he was getting sick. He planned to ask the man in the suit if they could check on him or give him something for the discomfort.
Niko felt drops of sweat forming on his forehead and removed his cap, tossing it on the table. He wiped his forehead with his hand, not realizing that the area he touched began to take on a bronzed tone.
As he lowered his hand, he felt an itching sensation, as if it had fallen asleep. He began shaking it to get rid of the feeling, but without success. He opened and closed his hand to regain feeling, but that didn't seem to work either. He looked at his hand to see what was happening.
With horror, Niko watched as the veins on his hand bulged and moved as if they were snakes, slithering and extending down his arm.
He felt a tightness in his arm, as if someone were pulling it, as if it were about to be torn off. He raised both hands, placing them in front of his eyes, trying to convince himself that he wasn't seeing what he was seeing.
With horror, he realized that he wasn't hallucinating. It was clear that his right arm had elongated and was now much longer than his left, with his sleeve revealing the extended half of his arm, unlike the other. It was accompanied by a thick mass of black hair.
He looked at both hands, alternating between palm and back, inadvertently hitting the table due to the newfound length of his arms. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, trying to convince himself that it was an illusion, but a part of him knew that wasn't the case, and he needed to call one of the officers.
He glanced at the door, screaming for help, waiting impatiently for someone to hear him. He felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. He grabbed it tightly in an attempt to alleviate the pain, although Niko didn't notice that his shoulder was expanding and becoming quite prominent.
The burning sensation in his other hand began, and he knew what would happen next. He had to get up and show the officers what was happening. He rose from the chair, letting it drop with a horrible noise. He approached the exit, gripped the doorknob, but it wouldn't open.
Niko looked perplexed at the door, wondering why it was locked when he knew it had no lock. He hadn't heard the sound of a door being locked. He began pounding on it, begging to be let out, resisting the pulling sensation in his arm. He struck it once, twice, thrice... eight times with force, but the door wouldn't budge, and his hand hurt from the impact.
Then, the pain intensified. He thought he might have dislocated a joint in his hand from the pounding. He leaned his head against the door for support, examining his hand to assess the damage. He noticed that the top of his index finger was swollen, doubling in thickness compared to the others.
He cried out for help again, but no one seemed to hear him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled and inhaled again, attempting to manage the pain. It seemed to work, as the pain became more bearable.
Crack.
Crack.
Two more cracks followed. He howled in agony, throwing his head back. He examined his hand, thinking he had broken a finger. But as he looked at it, he saw that there was nothing visibly wrong, oblivious to the fact that the palm of his hand had become wider.
And as if a switch had been flipped, the sound of his fingers breaking became audible. Each finger started to elongate and thicken, resembling sausages, filling and forming a large, fleshy hand. His skin tightened, hardened, and formed calluses. Niko's eyes welled up with tears due to the excruciating pain.
The pain extended up his arm, and his skin began to ripple, resembling boiling water. With each ripple, his arm expanded, filling the muscles and creating strong biceps that burst through his shirt, tearing the fabric apart. Niko felt the weight unbalancing him, and he struggled to hold himself up until he couldn't bear it anymore, collapsing to the floor, his chin and knees hitting the ground with force as he cried out in pain.
Sweat had accumulated on his forehead and began to roll down his face, forming small puddles on the floor. Niko threw his head back in an attempt to suppress the pain, but it only spread to his chest. Unbeknownst to him, his pectoral muscles began to expand, pushing against his shirt. As his back arched and stretched like a candy cane, his shirt and jacket failed to cover his entire body, leaving his stomach exposed.
A tickling sensation in his throat intensified, causing him to cough uncontrollably. With each cough, his voice grew deeper, and the Adam's apple was pushed outward even more than it already was.
Crack.
Another crack echoed through the room, eliciting another scream. Niko brought his hands to his face, attempting to pull at his skin in a futile attempt to relieve the pain, but it was in vain. Unbeknownst to him, his jaw had retracted, making his chin more prominent. A tingling sensation filled his face as the hairs of his beard, especially on his chin, began to pull. As they grew, they tugged at the skin. The same happened with his eyebrows, which, though prominent, grew even thicker. His nose lengthened, and his skin stretched, leaving traces of exhaustion on his face, making him appear more mature.
Niko stumbled, barely managing to hold onto the table as his legs threatened to give way due to the excessive weight of his new body. Amidst the staggering, he observed how his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, with droplets sliding down his body and falling to the floor. He moved his hand, noticing how the sweat glistened in the light.
Sweat continued to slide, depositing itself in his eyes, causing a stinging sensation. He rubbed his eyes desperately, unaware that the bluish color of his eyes was starting to darken, turning them into a dark brown.
Sweat now covered his entire body, leaving clear stains on the remaining clothes. One of the affected areas was his legs, which began to swell with muscle, tearing the fabric as it stretched with each passing second until it finally ripped open, leaving his jeans looking like extremely tight shorts.
He groaned as he felt his feet being constricted, as they had elongated to the point where they pressed against the shoe's rubber and leather. He clenched his fists in a desperate hope that the transformation would stop, fearing that his fingers would break as they were pushed against the sole of his shoes.
It seemed that his wish was granted as he started to hear the fabric tearing. He sighed in relief as each toe punctured through the material, emerging from the shoe's insole, allowing him to feel the coldness of the floor beneath him.
But something Nick didn't know was that with each breath, his memories were beginning to fade, leaving behind traces of his life, family, and studies. They were all melting away, dripping like an ice cream in the sun, sliding down to his balls. Where, upon feeling the extra load, he felt a blow to his testicles. As his thoughts emptied, he felt a sharp pressure as if someone were driving needles into his head. He pressed his forehead with both hands, but to no avail. Amidst several camera flashes, resembling scenes from an old movie, new memories emerged. Yet, upon reflection, he knew they were scenes from his own life.
He remembered being raised by his parents in a house in Silver Spring, completing his studies, and asking his father to enroll him in a gym, explaining his desire to become an officer, much like in the TV series "Blue Bloods." He recalled the time and dedication he had put into the tests, as well as the celebration that followed when his commanding officer handed him the paper stating he would work at the Edgewood police station for 14 years. He could still feel how his boss had called him just twenty minutes ago, informing him that he needed to return to the police station. When he inquired further about the order, his boss had mentioned that a member of the Department of Justice wanted to speak with him.
Niko took deep breaths to alleviate his fatigue, detecting a bitter, acrid sensation in the air. It was his sweat, which surprised him as he used deodorant every day. He raised his arm, wincing due to sore muscles, but as he brought it up, his armpit seemed as usual, with no excess hair. However, the odor was strong, as if even deodorant couldn't conceal it.
His crotch shoots forward, as if someone is pulling on an invisible rope. With each tug it slides down his thigh. Pulling and pulling, growing in size. Sliding down the side of his briefs, getting tight against his thigh like a fishing net.
Nick looked down as he watched his member grow inch by inch, leaving it at 7 inches. He moaned, because the fabric of the briefs was squeezing tightly. Nick arched his back as he felt a squeeze in his lower back, similar to someone squeezing his butt cheeks, contracting them. With each contraction, the buttocks became firmer and firmer, and consequently more prominent. Pulling at the fabric of the briefs, squeezing his member tighter, which elicited a moan. In an act of release, Nick tried to remove his underpants, which already looked like a thong because of how constricted they were. But he couldn't, he couldn't even get his fingertips in, so he pinched them, though also pricking his skin in the process. Stretching the fabric enough to get his fingers in, and in one motion he had removed them.
The heat seemed to subside, leaving him gasping for breath at the bad moment he was experiencing, though it seemed to focus on his crotch.He grabbed the chair that fell to the floor and sat down, grabbed his member and began to grope it.After a few seconds, his body began to spasm, as his member shot its load and with it, everything that represented Niko.
The door opens, and Nick turns to see the man in the suit returning, holding a uniform in one arm against his chest and a set of papers in his hand, presumably to keep the other arm free. Nick gets up from the chair, ignoring the drops still dripping from the tip of his member.
— Welcome aboard, Officer Mayers. — the man comments as he sees Nick standing. He offers a smile and extends the set of clothing.
Nick nods in response and accepts the outfit, laying it on the table. He searches through it until he finds a pair of boxer shorts. But then he remembers.
He looks over his shoulder at the man in the suit, indicating for him to leave the room so he can change. He's relieved to find that the man is standing with his back to him, which he appreciates.
With that, he begins to dress, starting with the boxer shorts.
— While you get ready, — the man in the suit announces, the sound of papers rustling. — I'll inform you of your new workplace and responsibilities.
Nick wanted to tell him that it wouldn't be necessary, as his only missions were to protect civilians and punish criminals. But he can only hope that he won't have to deal with paperwork.
After ten minutes of explanation, the man in the suit left the papers on the table, informing Nick that all the information he needed was there.
— It's a pleasure to begin, sir... — Nick left the sentence hanging as he didn't know the man's name.
— You can call me Vincent. — the man in the suit replied.
Nick nodded, and Vincent gestured towards the door, proceeding to leave the room. He returned to the office area where everyone seemed to be engrossed in their work. However, there were now two new faces in the waiting section.
Meanwhile, Nick continued walking towards the exit. If only he had looked back, he would have noticed that the man in the suit was still in the room, holding the door and then closing it. The door began to vanish, merging with the wall and disappearing as if it had never existed.
The early morning air was refreshing as Nick left the police station, crossing the parking lot to reach his Toyota Tundra. He took out his keys, started the engine, and left the parking lot to head home and rest. He needed to be as well-rested as possible because he had a lot of work to do with the move.
You'd found the tracksuit while looking on Vinted for new clothes, and had to have them. They were cheap too, so it just made sense to you to buy them, and the horny feeling you got just looking at the picture of them was enough to convince you.
A few days later and they arrived, and you were more than eager to try them on. As you slipped them on, you could feel your cock hardening, stiffening in the trackie pants that youd decided to go commando in. You gave your cock a quick tug, then slipped the hoodie on, caving into the urge to wear it without a shirt. The clothes smelled of sweat and cheap lynx deoderant, which youd noticed when opening them, but the scent was stronger now you wore them, invading your nostrils and overpowering all other smells in your room.
It was driving you insane, making your brain fog and lose focus, you smelled like a lad, a chav, and it was great. What you didn't realise, lost in pleasure, eyes closed and hands feeling up your body, was that you were growing. Your muscles becoming more lean, your height increases to a solid 6 feet, and a beard growing in on your face. Your bones were becoming more angular, cutting a hard jawline, and making you have a more tough, chavvy look. A tattoo was forming on the back of your right hand, and your hair was shortening into a cut more befitting of you new form. As you fondled your cock it grew, resting at a solid 7 inches with the foreskin back, uncut. Your balls felt full and heavy, and you could smell the combination of the musk, deoderant, and smell of smoke that now came from your body as well as the clothes. It was overwhelming you, making you blank and docile as it reworked your mind. New thoughts were seeping in, dumber, hornier thoughts, of how hot you were and how much you needed a cig.
Memories were seeping in too, of playing footie with your mates, or running an only fans, findomming pathetic subs and working out every so often to stay in shape. You were jerking off, waves of pleasure coursing through your being, and those waves carried new language, vocabulary, and a new name. Aaron. That's right, you were Aaron. A propa lad through and through.
Aaron came, soaking his, no your, trackies, and headed out to play footie with your mates, and get some booze on the way, probably nicking the beer like the badass you were.
Then There Was One
My dad goes on the occasional business trip. I'm still at home since I'm just a senior in high school my brother is a college. Plus the family dog.
My dad always has someone to keep an eye on me when he's out of town. 18 years old or not. Since my brother's college is not that far away. So he had him come home and stay with me. Which I can do without.
When he comes home he stays in his room but his buddy, his roommate comes along and stays in my room. I have to sleep on the couch in the family room and they treat me like their slave.
I'm Tommy. And my brother, jock want to be Paul. I say it, because he's a second-string jock and he hardly ever plays.
When Paul comes home it was brings his roommate Tyler. Tyler's on his school swim team and he's in really great shape. He should take my brother to the gym with him and get him in that kind of shape. But... That we don't have to really worry about that anymore.
This weekend I've got some big plan for both of them.
My brother comes home tosses his stuff into his room, Tyler comes kicks me out of my room.
My brother stocks the fridge with beer for the two of them to drink and sends me out to pick up the food they ordered. My brother doesn't want to pay for delivery.
But that works out fine for me because of my little surprise I have for them.
About a month ago I found an old Apothecary shop and I founded the items I needed to make some changes.
I picked Paul and Tyler's food along with my own. I went to the site counter of the restaurant to check the order and that's when I added the extra ingredients to Paul and Tyler's food.
When I got home they were out in the pool deck waiting for me. I brought them their food out with their beer which I also drugged with this special ingredients.
After about 2 hours Paul and Tyler were ready to go. And my brother Paul was the first one.
I can tell the stuff at taken effects my brother Paul had no fight in him. I dragged him to the side of the garage out of Tyler's view.
He was out of it and just stood there.
I pull off his jeans and underwear. Brother I'm about to becomes an only child and you're going to be part of it.
I stood behind him and being a smaller frame this was going to be easy. I started wrapping my arms around him and squeezing as I pulled myself inside his body.
It was a weird feeling as our bodies merged how I was melting inside him. My body is morphine with his as I was changing. My height started to match his as we became one. My chest sinking into his back. Our arms and legs become one. As I take over his body.
My own body being on the slim side, really didn't have much effect on his body. But once the merger was completed I did see our faces we had combined our to a good looks into a new face.
I was now in control my brother's body . I am now an only child. Since I merged into my brother's body I took his height and his age.
I got dressed to join my guest Tyler.
When I got back the pool deck he was in pretty much the same state as Paul was in. But my plans for his roommate were different than what I had for Paul.
Hey dude why don't you get your suit on we'll go in the pool.
Tyler was moving so slow and totally out of it.
What I slip into the Paul lunch was different than what I've gave Tyler. I'm going to add all this muscle mass to the my body, now have from my brother body.
Tyler just stood there, so i he's helped him by slide off his underwear. He was now completely naked as I lay them down on top of a lawn chair.
I got undressed quickly.
I prime Tyler's body the start the merging process.
Tyler was rock hard at the time and when I sat down on him. I align his firm cock to the opening in my ass. I position myself so it would slide in side me. This step went to smooth so I have a feeling my brother and him maybe doing a little something behind closed doors.
As I lay down on top a Tyler I could feel his dick pulsing as I align myself on top of him. Soon our body started to merge together. Has his lower extremities past to my butt cheeks, our legs merging together. His chest slipping into my back and taking its position. Speaking of positions I can feel my brother's, oh I'm sorry my dick grow bigger and harder. The merging of our bodies becoming quite successful. I could feel Tyler's nose at the back of my head but soon it was passing through emerging in with mine. For a short time I blacked out.
My eyes opened and I found myself being the only one laying in the lawn chair. The merger was completed I could feel the difference in my body already the muscular tone coming through.
I maybe Paul now. But.. I am an intelligent college student having the minds of Tyler, my brother Paul and myself combined into one. Merging all our knowledge and talents together.
I slept well that night in my new bedroom. Pictures of me on the wall. Trophies with my name on it. Being a first string lineman on the college football team.
I was sitting with my feet in the pool when my dad came home a few days later.
Thanks Paul for taking care of the house and the dog. You heading back to school tonight you got classes in the morning and a football game on Friday I'm sure you need to get back for practice.
Even my dad found me as Paul his only son. And this body is amazing. I'm also glad that Tyler's clothes fit me.
An interesting request from me. What if a straight man wishes to become Chris Evans because he wants the attention from girls. Well instead he becomes Kris Evans and he doesn’t notice until he is completely Kris and love the attention from men.
(Check out the full, NSFW version of this story HERE!)
Who doesn’t want to be Chris Evans?
Stellar career, great body, super nice guy, dog lover, and, by all accounts, a total chick magnet.
But nobody wanted to be Chris more than Blake. He was everything Chris wasn’t: unattractive, untalented, unsuccessful, and terrible with people (especially women).
So when Blake got his hands one one of those rare changing stones—ancient magical rocks with the power to transform the user into whomever's name they wrote on the smooth granite surface—he knew exactly what name he was going to write.
Unfortunately, spelling was among one of Blake’s many deficiencies. He relied heavier on spell check than the average person. But this wasn’t Microsoft Word. The changing stone had no spell check, so whoever (or whatever) one wrote on the rock was… well… set in stone.
At first, everything seemed to go according to plan. Blake felt himself shoot up an extra nine inches in height, followed immediately by a drastic drop in size. His blubbery gut receded back into his stomach, so much so that when looked down, his feet came into view for the first time since middle school.
But the view was short lived, as only moments later, a cartoonishly large pec shelf burst forth from his chest, once again obstructing his feet.
Jesus, Blake thought to himself, I knew Chris was big, but I didn’t know he was this big…
He had no idea.
Seconds later, the rest of his muscles began to come in: big veiny biceps, eight pack abs, a broad back, boulder shoulders, and legs the size of Thanksgiving turkeys.
It was then that Blake began to realize something was wrong. Chris Evans was a celebrity, not a supermodel. This was the body of a man whose entire career was his body. A model, perhaps… or a pornstar. God, I hope I’m not turning into a pornstar.
As if in response, Blake felt a tension in his groin area. He craned his neck over his muscle tits and watched as his cock grew to an impractical 9 inches, the fleshy sheath of foreskin inching up over the head.
Thanks to that screen sharing fiasco, everyone knew that Chris Evans was cut. This was not his dick… and this was not his body.
Blake assumed that the transformation was complete. He bore about as much resemblance to his former self as he did to the actor who’s name he’d written (or thought he’d written) on the changing stone. Instead, he had transformed into a 6’4”, 203 pound boy toy with a massive joystick.
I guess it’s not the end of the world, Blake thought as he explored his new body, chicks are gonna dig these muscles!
But there was still one last change. You see, Blake didn’t just accidentally write the name of any pornstar: he had written the name of a gay pornstar, and a prolific one at that.
As Blake entered the final stage of his transition, his mind flooded with fantasies of gay sex, images of guys sucking his dick and pounding his ass.
He tried picturing the busty blonde women he’d jerked off to his entire life, but his thoughts kept wandering back towards men: big, meaty men with big, meaty cocks, filling his every hole with their hot white spunk.
“No, stop! I’m not gay,” Blake cried out in a comically deep hungarian accent, “I don’t like guys! I like girls!”
But his dick begged to differ. The harder he tried to deny his new sexuality, the harder he got, until Blake’s dick was as hard as the changing stone itself. Whether he liked it or not, this was his new destiny: to live as a gay man.
A huge, hot, muscular gay man.
“Oh…. FUUUUUCK!”
He couldn’t take it any longer. All it took was one stroke and he shot his wad all over the stone. As the pornstar’s cum soaked the surface of the rock, the hastily scribbled black ink melted away.
His transformation was complete: Blake was no more, and in his place stood the iconic gay pornstar Kris Evans.
The hunky Hungarian gave a deep belly laugh, amused by the thought that not five minutes ago, he’d been some pathetic straight dude with a dream of turning into a Hollywood celebrity. Kris couldn’t fathom wanting to be anyone other than himself. He had the body of a god, an amazing job, not to mention the pick of any guy he wanted.
Every gay guy, that is.
Paxton Learns His Lesson - Collab with Aardvark
Paxton is a delinquent whose mother has had enough. He’s not happy when she sends him to live with his grandparents in sleepy Hart’s Landing, but the town comes to grow on Paxton in a most dramatic way. - Written by myself and @aardvarkia.
To say Paxton Montcalm wasn’t pleased with his situation was an understatement.
It was stupid, really. All he’d done was take his teacher’s pepper spray and air it out underneath his desk. How the hell was he supposed to know that was considered poisoning other people and assault with a deadly weapon…? Or whatever the judge said - Paxton had hated his fat face, so he hadn’t paid much attention beyond “you’re in trouble now, you little fuck-up!” (Yeah, no shit. He had noticed he was in court, thanks.)
He’d done his community service, apologized, even sucked up a little, but the adults just were not satisfied. Paxton had decided fine, fuck them, he’d just do what he wanted again. No one seemed to give a shit when he tried to make amends. And then he’d snuck out after curfew and gotten caught by some roided-up cop. DeSanto or something. His mother had had enough and informed him that he was going to spend the summer in Hart’s Landing, South Carolina with his grandparents.
“That’s not fair!” Paxton had protested. Upon seeing the thunderous look his mother had shot back, he’d blanched.
“No, I’ll tell you what’s not fair, little boy!” she’d roared, jumping up from the table. “What’s not fair is that I have to continually leave work to bail your ass out, using up my hard-earned cash. I’m a waitress, Paxton. I don’t even make minimum goddamn wage! I can barely afford the rent, everyone either ignores me, thinks I’m a shitty parent, or pities me! The fact that you’ve been here as long as you have is a downright miracle and, frankly, a testament to my patience!” She’d stopped, taken a deep breath, and lit up a cigarette, walking to the sink and taking a long drag. Holding it in, she had opened the window, exhaled, then hung her head. “You’re going. That’s final. Now go to your room. You don’t have to sleep, but I don’t want to look at you.”
Before Paxton could really process this - his mother had never exploded at him before, despite all the dumb shit he’d done - he was on a bus down to South Carolina. It was a long ride from Brooklyn, but he’d managed to pass the time by chatting up some cute chicks and reading a copy of FLEX he’d nicked from one of the bus terminals.
The bus stop wasn’t far from his grandparents’ house, and they met him there. Grandma Rose and Grandpa Walker were just how he remembered them from their last visit on his 10th birthday. Old, decrepit, and kind of smelly.
“Oh, just look at you!” Rose cooed, pinching his cheek and giving him a big kiss. She left a bright red lipstick print on his cheek.
“Hi, gram,” he muttered.
“Stand up straight,” Walker ordered, “and march. I know full well what you did, and I won’t have any of that tomfoolery in my house. You hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Paxton replied sarcastically.
And that had gotten him dragged two blocks to his grandparents’ bungalow by his ear.
Keep reading
Sauna
I was very surprised when a guy way out of my league, approached me and confessed to me. I should of suspected something was wrong when he invited me to his house but I guess, I was too pent-up and horny to think rationally. But I think it’s too late now.....
At the present moment I’m sharing a sauna with him and he seems to know everything about me. I’m sure this guy is going to sell my organs........ I was not prepared to die today... there is so much I still want to do. My God, he even know my daily schedule and personal details.... I’m definitely screwed.
Then he whispered into my ears “Don’t be afraid. Guess you still didn’t recognize me. I assure you, you are in safe hand.”
With visible confusion I replied “What?”
“Hehe.... you are as cute as ever” he replied. “U will understand soon, sit tight. “
With that he left me in the sauna confused and freaked out.
...
I know this could be my last chance to attempt an escape and I want to but, don’t want to at the same time. Come to think of it, there is unusual amount of steam here now but, it feels really good here...... a little nap won’t hurt right?
...
Huh? Why was I asleep here.... it could have been dangerous? How long have I been here? It doesn’t feel like much time has passed. There seems to be a letter in front of me, I am sure it wasn’t here before. Should I read it?
!!!
“What happened to me? My voice what happened to my voice!?”
It’s so deep and I’m totally ripped..... hard abs, huge biceps, strong pecs, a real Alpha. How is this possible, not that I’m complaining.
.... The letter, it’s from the guy who brought me here. Huh? What’s this.... His name is Rick and he attended college with me. I’m sure, I would have remembered someone that hot but I don’t remember him. I should read the letter further....
I see it now, He is was Chemistry major, small and fat.....An ideal target to bullies. I remember standing up for him; he was my roommate after all. And he has been in love with me since then and wanted to repay me.
Well I sure do love this gift (i said while flexing), I’m busting with vigor... I could probably fuck someone for days nonstop. Rick is waiting outside for me now and I can’t wait for the main course either.
One of my all-time favorites!
Career Day
“Hey bro, do you think you have what it takes to be a firefighter?”
You stop dead in your tracks. Next to the rows and rows of folding tables set up for career day is a big red fire truck. But instead of free pens and buttons to entice you in, three half-naked firefighters stand laughing, rubbing their thick muscles through their loose handing fireproof jackets.
This has to be some sort of joke, you think to yourself with a scoff. One of the meat heads approaches you with a hunky swagger. “So,” he asks again, “you think you have what it takes?”
It’s been a pretty boring day overall, so you decide to have some fun. “Alright,” you say with a sarcastic smile, “tell me: what does it ‘take’ to be a firefighter?”
“Well,” the guy says, “first, you’ve got to be jacked. Like… really jacked.” As he says this, you begin to feel your clothes grow itchy, like they don’t seem to fit quite right.
“Yeah,” you say trying to keep an air of confidence, “and what else?”
“Well,” he continues, “you’ve gotta have tough skin. Tough enough to withstand serious heat.” The itching is insatiable now, and you look down to see a rough callous develop over your hands, which are now bulging with muscle. You frantically look around the room, but no one else seems to be noticing the muscles now begging to escape from your tight clothes.
“You’ve got to have a lot of upper body strength,” he says before you can stop him, and suddenly your arms grow sore, biceps the size of baby heads bursting at the seams of your shirt. “And good legs…” he says, sending your thighs tearing through your jeans. “Not to mention a good core.” And with that, your chest expands into two square pecs and a rack of abs directly below.
“Is that it??” you plead with him, struggling to contain your new body as it continues to grow per his suggestions.
“Not yet,” the guy continues, “you’ve also got to know a thing or two about firefighting. Not much else though, you don’t want your brain getting too crammed if you know what I mean.” You try and resist the overwhelming feeling of numbness that envelops your mind. You feel memories of training and lifting with your fighter fighter bros begin to replace those of your friends, family, and education.
You, moan, trying to resist as a new feeling overtakes your body. “No… please…”
“Oh yeah! And one last thing. You’ve gotta be pretty hung. It can get pretty boring at the station with nothing to do. Some of us like to fool around a little bit. Wouldn’t hurt to have a 9 inch dick.”
You know it’s coming this time. The testosterone, the heat flooding your pelvic region. You look down just in time to see a full, 9 inch penis burst forth from your briefs and unleash a wave of cum all over the floor. With it escapes all your knowledge of your past life; you’re nothing more than one of those meathead firefighters now, nothing else on your mind by saving lives and sucking dick.
“Here,” says the guy as he leads you over back to the truck and away from the crowds, “lets get you into something more comfortable shall we?”
You nod stupidly, eagerly awaiting the minute you can get him into bed with your thick new cock, both your muscle bodies rubbing sweaty together for hours. As he slips you into your firefighter’s coat, you know you’ve chosen the right career. Even if it wasn’t exactly your choice…
The Driver: Richard
--- Originally posted on 2018-01-13 by dumbmusclejockboi ---
“And I will need that report on my desk ASAP! Do you hear me?!” Richard said, talking to someone on his cellphone as he entered his Uber car.
“Richard?” The driver asked. “Says here you’re going to 5th Ave and 52nd St. Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” Richard responded. “And I will also need the Rosier files sent by fax to my hotel room..” he continued on his cellphone.
The driver had had many people like this enter his ride share vehicle. Though seldom did they exit the same person. Richard didn’t know it yet but he had hit the jackpot, or was he about to be eternally cursed? I guess it depended on one’s perspective.
“David, David? Can you here me? Hello? Anyone there?” Richard said shaking his cellphone and then slamming it down onto his thigh letting out an irritated sigh. “Fuck!”
“Cell troubles?” The driver asked.
“Yes. And it’s at the exact wrong time too. I’m working on a huge project at work right now. Very important. My boss has been riding my ass about it. It just gets so irritating sometimes! I wish I didn’t have to carry around all this stress. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this? “
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Many passengers say that they sometimes need an objective listener to just listen to their problems. Wouldn’t it be great to have an objective listener to hear what’s bothering you?”
“Yes. Having an objective listener would be great. Thanks you…” Richarf glanced down st his Uber app and for the drivers name. It only said ‘driver’ for his name.
“My name isn’t really important,( Rich. You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Don’t worry about it.
“In fact I think you will find that you are feeling nice and relaxed. The stress of the day is leaving you, and you don’t have any cares in the world. “
Richard, or was it Rich, could feel something was wrong, but he settled down into his seat anyway. Taking a few deep breathes and letting his shoulders droop.
“Rich, I think that jacket and tie are starting to feel a little constructing, don’t you? Doesn’t it feel like it’s choking you? Stifling you? Perhaps it would be better to take them off? Wouldn’t it feel nice and relaxing if you took them off?”
“Stifling. Choking. Feels better to take off,” Rich mumbled to himself as he removed his jacket and tie.
“Yes, that’s much better. Feels so good, doesn’t it?
“Now, I think you will find that you’re feeling warmer and warmer. Maybe you should take off your shirt and pants. If you take off your shorts and pants you wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now. I’m sure you want to feel cool and comfortable, and the only way to do that is to take off your shirt and pants.”
Beads of sweat had started to form on Rich’s forehead. He looked uncomfortable, until he started unbuttoning his shirt. The moment his shirt was off he let out a sigh of relief. But his legs were still very warm. Better to take off his pants too! With a deft motion, Rich let his pants pool at his feet.
“Hmmm…” The Driver thought to himself.
“I think you need to get down to five percent fat.”
“What the fuck?” Rich swore.
“Oomph!”
Rich’s body sort of sucked I’m on himself. His fat melted away, and like a vacuum-sealed package, revealed the contents below. He became instantly ripped. Well, as ripped as an office worker with no real muscle tone could look.
“What the hell?”
“And, you work out five days a week, sometimes twice a day. You’ve been doing this since you were 15.”
Rich suddenly felt all of his muscles fill with energy and begin to ache.
And Rich’s body expanded in a flash. It was like in those old cartoons when the bunny blew his finger, and suddenly inflated. But this inflation was not air. No, it was 15 years worth of solid muscle. Hard-wrought, well-earned traps, lats , pectorals, biceps, triceps, abs, quads, glutes, and calves.
“You bet I’ve been working out for 15 years,” Rich said as he flexed his 21-inch biceps.
“ think you’ve only been doing this for 5 years. You’re only 21.”
“Bro, I don’t know what I was thinking. Duh, I’m only 21.”
“And I think you need to convert IQ points to penis size. Maybe lose ten points to gain every inch, so you’re gonna ditch 50 IQ points to gain 5 inches of dick. You’re gonna have a foot long cock, when it’s hard, that is as thick as a beer bottle.”
“Ugghhh,” Rich groaned as a dumb smile appeared on his face.
“And your name is Buck Hardwood, a Southern stripper and porn star.”
“Yes, Sir, I work at the best club in New York City, Adonis,” Buck drawled.
“So, Buck, where are you from?”
“I’m from the great state of Alabama,” the newly minted Southerner replies.
“ I know I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Driver says.
“Well sir (pronounced sah), I’ve been is a few pornos. My favorite was ‘Two Bros, One Hole’. That one was super fun to do. Probably my most popular one was ‘Frat Bros are Easy’,” Buck replied.
“That’s great, Buck. And look! Here we are! Adonis nightclub, NYC.”
“Woo-hoo!” Buck cheered. “Wanna come in and watch me strip?”
“I’ll take a raincheck,” The Driver replies as Buck leaves the car. “Enjoy your new life, Buck.”
Hey, i'm a nerdy gay bottom and I've never been able to actually get muscle or even have some definition, if you could help with that it be great but can I keep my intelligence I have a report coming up and want to be able to understand it
Ah, so you’re looking for some “definition.” Looking to “define” those muscles a little bit. Don’t worry, I think I have an idea, and trust me when I say you won’t be loosing any of your intelligence. If anything, this transformation is going to make you smarter.
But there are two things we need first. First, these glasses. Yeah, I know you don’t need glasses to read, but these aren’t just any reading glasses. These special lenses help to “distort” things, help to “broaden” your gaze. When you wear them, things might seem “larger…”
You’re not getting it, are you? Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought. But not to worry, that’s going to change soon. The second thing we need is a dictionary.
Yup, that’s right. The only muscle you’ll be working out today is that one in your head. But after we’re done, you’re going to be spending just as much time at the gym as you do at the library.
Now, the trick to getting real definition is to learn some real definitions. You’ll see what I’m talking about in a second. Let’s crack that thing open, because the first word I want you to define is “Swell.” Can you do that? Wow, look at you. On it already. What does it say?
SWELL (verb, used without object)
1. to grow in bulk, as by the process of growth.
2. to increase abnormally in size, as by inflation.
3. to bulge out, to well up.
I’m sure by now you understand what I mean. Can’t see the page very well over those swollen pecs, can you? Might seem a little bit farther down, as your ass is practically a cushion in and of itself. And your arms. Man, it’s funny what just a couple words can do. You barely fit in that t-shirt anymore your muscles are so big! Why don’t you take it off, get more comfortable.
There you go big guy. We can find you more clothes later. We’ve still got two more words to go. Ready? The next word is “Sprout.”
SPROUT (verb, used without object)
1. to begin to grow; shoot forth and develop.
2. to develop or grow quickly.
I think I can see what’s sprouting on you. Feel that tingling on your chest? Like someone pouring champagne bubbles out of every pore? Don’t worry, it’s just the forrest of hair sprouting on your chest. A thick mane to accompany your mountainous pecs. And that’s not the only thing its complimenting. No one is ever going to be able to look at your legs again without popping a boner or getting wet; you’ve defined a perfect amount of hair to dust those thick-log like thighs about to burst out of your shorts. Take them off, you’ll see what I mean.
Yeah, I would definitely invest in some bigger pants. But wait! There’s still one more word. You didn’t think you were done, did you? Trust me, this is a really big word. Super important. Define, “Erect.”
ERECT (adjective)
1. upright position or posture.
2. raised or directed upward.
3. hard and firm, standing upright.
Don’t fight it. Just let it happen. Let the feeling of pain and pleasure sweep through your muscular body and down to your new, 10 inch penis. Your cock was always meant to be this long. It’s less of a cock now though and more of a weapon. Hard as solid concrete, long as a dagger. Not to mention it spurts like a fire hydrant when you cum. But you’re a bottom, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem… I hope…
Welp, I’ve done about all I can do, which is to say I’ve turned you into literally the perfect man. Solid adonis muscles, thick coat of manly hair, and a dick that people are going to make a religion out of. But deep down, you’re still the same, nerdy bottom with a big project due very soon. I wouldn’t worry about that though. Just keep those glasses on and you’ll always be the smartest guy in the room.
And the hottest…
Uncovered Deck in Rennes
Inspiration for a large contemporary rooftop deck container garden remodel with no cover
This is nice because I love TV-heads but I would sell a kidney for a cosmic or an abstract potion
Spin this wheel to receive a transformation potion ^_^
![[from 2023] Thought “what If Galacta Had A Wing-cape Like MK”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2538a94a8b22d63039949a3da74d873a/df92ad87ea2bc334-23/s400x600/97b7592186acf5d5f43afcc0cd04ab3f7f10eccf.gif)
[from 2023] thought “what if galacta had a wing-cape like MK”
Stress is the liminal passage
between caterpillar and butterfly...
Alcora Barian Battle Morph WIP
A doodle I made back in June but never bothered to post until now. (The blue circle was there first.)
(imagine if this was the catalyst for the events of the special /jk)