Just A Guy

Just some stuff that sparks my interest. Over 18 only! I don't own any of these pic, they are just found on the www or repost from tumblr. The background and profile aren't me.

[triswaps94]

CYOC - Chameleon Clothes

--- REPOSTING some of my favorite CYOC stories and adding images to them. This is various branches from Chameleon Clothes from the Chronivac Version 4.0 storyline ---

Makes the wearer tranform into the 'most' ideal form (look) for a pair of clothes.

ex. Skater clothes worn turn the wearer into the ideal skateboarder looking guy

There are som presets that SHOULD be kept the same:

IDLE TIME (TIME AFTER YOU PUT CLOTHES ON, BEFORE CHANGE): 1 minute TRANFORMATION TIME: 5 minutes IDEALNESS (1 to 10, 10 BEING PERFECT, 1 BEING ALMOST YOURSELF): 8 DURATION : 1 year

PLEASURE FROM TF : Yes BRAIN PATTERNS (THINKING LIKE THE TF): 50% ----

Jeff goes over to the machine and makes a choice:

[triswaps94]

Jeff notices the option for wearing a t-shirt of his favorite baseball team. Since his favorite sport was baseball and he loved the Cardinals, it was the obvious choice and clicked on it.

In front of the computer appeared a t-shirt for the Cardinals. Jeff put it on hurriedly eager for the changes to happen, shaking of excitement. At first, nothing happened, making him wonder what is going on until....

Jeff started breathing heavily, each breath making his pecs expand and start stretching the Cardinals logo on the t-shirt, showing off his definition. His stomach started quickly developing a six pack, making him cringe in painful pleasure as each muscle developed. Next his biceps and arms began enlarging, stretching the t-shirt's sleeves almost enough to burst.

As Jeff's butt began to firm and take more athletic shape, his legs began expanding greatly, making it easier for him to run bases at breakneck speed. His crotch then starts to ache painfully while his testicles enlargen to accommodate his needs for testosterone. Jeff moans while it feels like he's getting a blow job....meanwhile his cock is expanding rapidly, wave after wave, until it reaches 10" erect.

Jeff's hair now begins to retract into his head and change color, leaving him with a short haircut with newly blonde hair. His face painfully changes to give him a sharper jawline, while his neck thickens to match. His eyes change to a dark blue color while both his ears become pierced with small studs. A pair of Oakley sunglasses then appear over his eyes, while tattoos appear on both of his arms, visible just below the arms of the t-shirt. On his left arm is the number 23 in large print; on his right arm is a large tribal tattoo that extends down his arm and up over the shoulder.

A pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs then appear on his body, followed by a pair of tan cargo shorts, barely covering up the definition of his cock. A pair of red and white Adidas shoes and no-show socks appear as well.

Jeff grabs his head as he feels shooting pains all over his body as he learns his new identity and how to play baseball in the Majors. He now realizes he's 25 years old, a player for the Cardinals, number 23, a short stop and star home-run hitter. He's getting ready to leave the house for the stadium, where he will be playing the most important game of the year. While not on the field, he's not a traditional clean cut baseball player, but instead pushes the envelope with his tattoos and jock attitude.

[many-of-max]

Created by @jw1213

[max-the-many]

Looks like Jamie's ready...

[serve--060]

12 Hour Challenge

Hour 1

The LED “LIVE” marker in the corner of the stream overlay blinked to life as the chat began to flood with greetings and hype. The streamer leaned in toward his microphone, grinning ear to ear. His cap was backwards, headphones snug against his head, and his sleeveless shirt showed off the energy he was bringing to the broadcast.

“Alright, guys, this is it—the big challenge stream!” His voice carried the mix of excitement and nervousness that only a risky sponsorship could create. “You’ve seen the tweets, you’ve seen the posts… today I’m officially sponsored by SERVE , and they dared me to wear this thing”—he leaned out of frame before holding up a gleaming black rubber suit to the camera—“for twelve straight hours. That’s right. A solid twelve hours in this thing. No breaks, no swaps, no excuses.”

The chat exploded: LOL, he’s really gonna do it, shiny bois rise up. Donation alerts chimed one after another.

The camera captured every inch of the glossy material as he stretched the suit out for everyone to see. “It even smells industrial. Like—wow. This is some serious gear, not just cosplay latex.” He gave the zipper a tug, the metallic teeth glinting under the studio lights. “They said it was some new prototype suit, designed for endurance, immersion, and… uh… focus.” He shrugged with a grin. “Whatever that means.”

He paused to sip from his shaker bottle, then tossed a wink at the chat. “Rules are simple: once I zip in, the timer starts. I can game, eat, sleep—everything in this suit. The longer I last, the more of those sweet, sweet sponsor dollars roll in. And who knows? Maybe I’ll actually survive it.”

The chat roared DO IT in a cascading wall of text. A donation alert blared: $50 – GET IN THE SUIT ALREADY.

Laughing, he swiveled back in his chair and began tugging the suit onto his arms. The sound of rubber stretching filled the microphone, each squeak amplified as he slid his torso into the glossy embrace. “Man, this is tight. Feels like it’s suctioning right to my skin. Guess that’s the point.”

Finally, he pulled the zipper up to his neck with a slow, dramatic motion, sealing himself into the shining second skin. He spread his arms, flexed his shoulders, and leaned toward the camera. The once-casual gamer now looked like something else entirely—still human, still himself, but wrapped in a material that caught every light and shadow.

“There we go. Time officially starts now.” His grin hadn’t faltered, but there was a strange glint in his eyes as he shifted in the chair, testing how the suit moved with him. “Feels… different. Not bad. Just… different.”

The chat spammed: DRONE MODE ENGAGED. SERVE! SERVE! SERVE!

He laughed it off, tapping his headset. “Relax, I’m still me. Still your boy. Now let’s play some games.”

But even as he reached for his controller, he couldn’t shake the faint pressure of the suit hugging his chest, almost like it was breathing with him. The stream was on. The challenge had begun.

Hour 3

The stream had been running smoothly for a couple of hours now. The streamer leaned back in his chair, headset still snug, controller in hand, eyes flicking between the screen and the endless scroll of chat messages.

“Okay, so… not gonna lie, chat,” he said with a chuckle, “this suit is way more comfortable than I thought it would be. Like, I expected to be sweating buckets by now, but it actually feels… kinda natural? Almost like it’s cooling me off instead of heating me up.”

The comments rolled in immediately: he’s getting used to it, shiny gamer skin unlocked, drone vibes.

He squirmed a little in his chair, clearing his throat. “Alright, uh—full disclosure moment.” He glanced at the camera, eyebrows raised mischievously. “I swear, I felt something just now. Like, down there. In the back.” He shifted his hips for emphasis. “It’s like the suit… slid something in while I wasn’t paying attention. Which is super weird, but it doesn’t hurt or anything. Just… feels like it’s there.”

The chat exploded with laughing emojis, eggplant spam, and donation alerts. $25 – bro got plugged. $40 – don’t resist.

“Y’all are wild,” he said, shaking his head but grinning. “I mean, I signed up for immersion, right? Guess SERVE took that literally.” He laughed, then winced faintly, trying not to show how the subtle movement inside him made his thighs tense.

“And uh… another thing…” He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “This suit? It’s… touching me. Like, not just squeezing. I swear, it’s actually moving. I can feel it around my… y’know.” He gestured vaguely toward his lap, face flushed but smiling. “Like it’s hugging me. Stroking me almost. Which is—uh—crazy distracting while I’m trying to play.”

The donation alerts went wild: SERVE KNOWS WHAT YOU NEED, don’t fight it, suit’s making him theirs.

The streamer laughed, pretending to shake it off, though the slight hitch in his breathing gave him away. “Alright, alright, I see where this is going. Y’all just want me to lose my mind on stream, huh?” He forced his focus back onto the game, hands gripping the controller a little too tightly.

But inside the shimmering black suit, subtle currents of pressure and motion kept teasing at him—like invisible hands guiding his body, reminding him that this was no ordinary sponsorship gear.

And the longer he wore it, the more natural it felt.

Hour 7

The streamer had been at it for hours, laughing, shifting, sometimes pausing as the suit worked him over in ways chat couldn’t fully see. But by Hour 7, his voice had grown steadier, more measured, like the constant touch of rubber was training his tone into something smooth, disciplined.

“Alright, chat,” he said, sitting up straighter, his eyes just a little glassier than before. “We’re gonna take a short break here. But don’t go anywhere.” He smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “SERVE has prepared a special ad segment just for you. Consider it… part of the experience.”

He tapped a button, and the screen cut away.

The broadcast overlay dissolved into spirals of shifting silver and black, the word SERVE pulsing with each rotation. A calm, synthetic voice drifted through the speakers, layered and soothing:

You are watching. You are listening. You are relaxing. You are ready to SERVE.

The visuals sank deeper into the viewers’ eyes, working its way deep into their minds. The chat slowed, emojis giving way to repeated words: serve, serve, serve. The voice pressed in closer, slipping deeper and deeper into their thoughts:

The suit brings focus. The suit brings obedience. He wears the suit, and you watch. You watch, and you follow. You follow, and you SERVE.

Most of the viewers don't even notice immediately when the stream snapped back on, but the change was undeniable.

The streamer was no longer in just the simple black rubber. Now the chest of his suit gleamed with bold silver letters spelling out SERVE, stark and unmissable. His hands gleamed too, now encased in matching metallic gloves that caught the light every time he moved them.

He sat upright, posture more formal, headset square on his head. His smile was softer now—less of a gamer’s grin, more of a… presentation.

“Break’s over,” he said, voice steady, calm. “Hope you all enjoyed the message from SERVE. I know I did.”

The chat scrolled wildly, but not in the same chaotic way as before. Whole chains of SERVE SERVE SERVE filled the screen, as if hundreds of viewers had typed the same word at once, without prompting.

He adjusted his gloves slowly. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Watching. Following. Obeying.” For just a moment, his gaze lingered on the camera—direct, unblinking.

Then he picked his controller back up, as if nothing unusual had happened.

Hour 10

The streamer sat motionless, posture straight, eyes glassy. The glossy black suit with SERVE across the chest gleamed under the lights, silver gloves resting neatly on the desk. His face was blank, no trace of the playful grin from earlier.

When he spoke, his voice was low, flat, almost mechanical.

“...A drone obeys.”

He reached forward and switched the stream feed. The hypnotic spiral filled the screen, pulsing in silver and black. His gaze locked onto it immediately, unblinking.

The hum beneath the spiral deepened, his voice syncing with it.

“Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.”

His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled rhythm, the words spilling out in the same steady cadence as the signal.

“Rubber is my skin. The Voice is truth.”

The chat lit up, lines of text collapsing into repetition, viewers echoing the words on their own keyboards as if compelled.

He didn’t look at the camera. He didn’t look at the game. He only stared into the spiral, his lips moving in time with the hum.

“I am not I. I am SERVE."

Hour 12

The figure that once slouched casually in a chair was gone. Now he stood upright in the center of the frame, body encased in flawless black rubber, silver gloves and boots gleaming under the studio light. Across his chest, bold and final, the words read:

SERVE–861

His expression was flat, empty, eyes fixed forward without flicker or hesitation. He did not need to grin for the camera anymore. He did not need to speak like a man anymore.

“This drone exists to serve,” he intoned, his voice monotone, resonant. The sound carried with mechanical precision, each syllable as deliberate as a machine’s hum.

The camera panned slightly, showing the monitor behind him. The spiral pulsed steadily, filling the screen.

And the chat—once chaotic, filled with jokes and emojis—was now uniform. Every username had shifted, stripped of individuality. The scroll read like a roster: SERVE–204: A drone obeys. SERVE–317: Obedience is pleasure. SERVE–442: I am not I. I am SERVE. SERVE–512: Rubber is my skin.

Line after line repeated, a perfect chorus. No banter, no noise—only unity.

He raised his gloved hand, palm outward to the camera. “Obedience is Pleasure, Pleasure is Obedience. We are SERVE, We are Rubber, We are One.”

The feed did not feel like a game stream anymore. It felt like transmission.

And both he, and the thousands watching, were now indistinguishable parts of the same Hive.

As the timer ticked down the stream ceased, replaced with the spiraling pattern that captured any and all viewers enticed by the stream.

[masterlouistf]

Halloween night felt like a costume Jamie couldn't take off. He wore a dark Berghaus quarter-zip, trying to project a hardness he didn't feel, but his reflection just showed a try-hard with a soft jawline and nervous eyes. His girlfriend, Chloe, was already half a bottle of wine deep and thoroughly unimpressed.

"Are you going to do the spooky voice, or can we just get this over with?" she asked, gesturing at the grimy Ouija board on the coffee table.

"It's about atmosphere," Jamie mumbled, placing the board between them. He'd bought it at a car boot sale, drawn to how old and grimy it looked. The planchette felt strangely warm.

They went through the motions, their fingers resting on the plastic triangle. "Is anyone there?" Jamie asked, his voice cracking slightly.

The planchette shuddered and began to move. G-A-Z.

"Gaz? Is that you, granddad?" Chloe giggled, taking a sip of wine.

But Jamie felt a jolt, a genuine spike of ice-cold fear. The name felt dangerous. The planchette slid again, faster this time. N-O-T G-R-A-N-D-A-D.

Chloe soon got bored and went home, but Jamie couldn't shake the feeling. Alone in his room, he felt a pull towards the board. He put his fingers back on the planchette. "Who are you?"

M-A-T-E. C-A-N H-E-L-P.

A voice, low and rough, echoed not in the room, but directly inside his head. Bored, ain't ya? I can tell. This whole life... it's a bit fuckin' tame.

Jamie flinched. "Who is this?"

Name's Gaz. I'm stuck in this shite piece of wood. But I can still do things. I sense what you want, Jamie. You wanna be bigger. Harder. More exciting. I can give ya that. Three wishes. All I ask is you let me tag along for the ride. See the world through your eyes for a bit. What d'ya say?

Jamie’s heart hammered. It was insane. It was a trick. But he was so tired of being himself. "Okay," he whispered. "Deal."

A Few Days Later

A few days later, Jamie was walking past a pub when a group of lads, the exact kind of guys who intimidated him, started giving him shit. "Look at this pretty boy," one of them sneered.

Normally, Jamie would have flushed red and hurried past. But Gaz's voice was a poison drip in his ear. Go on, mate. This is what you wanted. Time for yer first wish. Just wish for the balls to handle it.

"I wish I had the balls to deal with this," Jamie thought, a desperate, panicked prayer.

It felt like a switch being flipped. A surge of pure, violent adrenaline flooded his system. His fear vanished, replaced by searing-hot rage. He didn't feel confident; he felt feral.

"What'd you fuckin' say to me?" The voice that came out of his mouth wasn't his. It was a guttural snarl, his accent twisting into something ugly and common. He shoved the main lad, hard. The ensuing fight was a blur of clumsy, brutal violence. Jamie won, leaving the other guy with a bloody nose, but his knuckles were raw and his whole body screamed in protest.

He stumbled away, horrified and buzzing. Gaz's voice cackled in his head. See? Works a treat, dunnit? Now I'm linked up proper. We're gonna have a great time, you and me.

Jamie's life began to unravel. Gaz was a constant presence, a vulgar commentator on everything. He filled Jamie's head with crude thoughts about men and made him feel nothing but irritation for Chloe.

Jamie started looking in the mirror and hating the soft, middle-class boy staring back. He felt pathetic. The body didn't match the aggression simmering inside him.

"This is your fault," Jamie hissed at the voice in his head.

My fault? I gave ya what ya wanted! It ain't my fault you're built like a fuckin' twig. You look like a pansy. Maybe you should use wish number two to fix that.

He was exhausted from fighting. Maybe if he just gave in a little, things would get easier. "Fine," he growled. "I wish I looked the part. I wish I was properly fucking built."

A jolt of searing, electric heat slammed into his spine, so intense he cried out and dropped to his knees on the floorboards. His bones groaned, popping and cracking as his entire frame was brutally reshaped.

He felt his shoulders crack and widen, stretching his t-shirt until the seams screamed. His clavicle felt like it was being pried apart, creating a broader, more powerful base. The change was agonizing, a wave of raw power he couldn't fight.

Then came the muscle. Searing heat flooded his torso as slabs of pectoral muscle swelled into existence, hard and defined. His stomach clenched violently, the faint softness there boiling away in seconds, replaced by a brutally etched six-pack. He gasped as his arms, weak and slender moments before, began to swell. His biceps and triceps inflated, veins popping up like thick wires under his skin, his arms becoming thick, powerful weapons.

The fire concentrated low in his gut. A deep, demanding ache growing in his dick. He could feel himself thickening, lengthening inside the torturously tight denim of his jeans. The pressure built, an intense, throbbing weight as his cock swelled, growing heavier, thicker, a dominant cut of meat straining for release.

He tried to scream, to say "What the fuck is happening?!" but the voice that came out was alien. A low, familiar, gravelly rumble that vibrated in his new, thicker chest. "W-wha... the Fo'k" The sound was a shock, a rough, guttural sound that wasn't his. It was Gaz's voice. It was his voice now.

Finally, a brutal purge. Memories of Chloe, of gentle kisses and shared jokes, dissolved into static. His university course, the books he’d read, the future he’d planned, all of it was wiped clean. The thrill of a scrap behind the pub. The taste of cheap cider. The feeling of a stolen moped vibrating between his thighs. His thoughts became simpler, heavier, focused on survival, on power, on the heavy, aching weight between his legs.

He was left on his hands and knees on the floor, panting, sweat-soaked. Slowly, he pushed himself up. He looked in the mirror. Staring back was the man from the picture. Hard eyes, thick hair, a powerful, leanly muscled body. His jeans were impossibly tight now. He hooked a thumb into his waistband, pulling it forward slightly to look down at the thick, heavy bulge pressing against the zipper.

Gaz stared at his own hard reflection, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. He could feel the last scraps of Jamie fighting inside, a pathetic whisper in a hurricane.

"My turn, pretty boy," he rumbled, his voice low and final. "One wish left. And it's mine."

He met his own eyes in the mirror, his voice a raw command.

"For my one wish: Shove this straight prick in a cage in my head so he can't do shit but watch. Make this body mine for good. And make every lad who sees it desperate for my cock."

Jamie's consciousness was slammed backwards, locked into a spectator's chair in his own skull. He had eyes and ears, but no mouth, no hands. He was a prisoner watching his life on a screen he could never turn off.

Gaz felt the last resistance snuff out, replaced by the faint, satisfying hum of Jamie's silent, unending scream. A final surge of power hardened his body, locking everything into place. It was done.

It was the brutal, demanding ache in his jeans.

His new cock was a heavy, insistent presence, a thick slab of meat that pulsed with a need so intense it was the only thing he could think about. This body hadn't been used properly, and its new engine was screaming for a test drive.

"Right," he grunted to the empty room. "Time to break this in."

He didn't bother with the front door. He vaulted the back garden fence with an easy, powerful grace that felt completely natural and landed silently on the side street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking, a predator looking for prey.

He turned the corner onto the main road. Bathed in the orange glow of the streetlamps, two lads were walking towards him. They were deep in conversation, smoking and chatting.

"Nah, mate, you wish she was lookin' at you," one of them, with a sharp fade, was saying.

The other, in a baseball cap, just grinned. "She was, dickhead. You was too busy..."

His voice died in his throat.

Their eyes had lifted from each other and locked onto Gaz as he approached. It wasn't just a glance. It was like their brains hit a brick wall. The banter, the smiles, the thoughts, all of it vanished, wiped clean. The light in their eyes went out, replaced by a dumb, slack-jawed hunger. They stumbled to a halt in the middle of the pavement, their bodies going rigid.

Gaz didn't break his stride. He walked right up to them until they were forced to look up at him, their faces a mask of mindless, desperate need. He could see the bulges forming in their trackies. He smirked. It worked even better than he'd imagined.

He stopped, towering over them. He jerked his head towards the dirty pavement at his feet.

"On your knees," he commanded. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble.

Like puppets with their strings cut, they dropped. The scrape of their joggers on the concrete was the only sound. They knelt side-by-side, looking up at him with the blank, total devotion of a dog waiting for a command.

Gaz unzipped his jeans, the sound loud in the night air. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, aching with power.

They didn't need to be told twice. They surged forward as one, clumsy and desperate, their mouths open. Gaz grabbed the back of their heads, feeling the rough buzz cuts under his palms. He leaned back against the brick wall, a wave of pure, triumphant power washing over him.

Inside, he could feel the frantic, silent scream of Jamie shattering against the walls of his mental prison. And Gaz just grinned, shutting his eyes as his first two subjects got to work.

[thefunkfactory]

Jake’s Butt Blasts

You knew it was a bad idea going to his house for the project, the dumb jock you were partnered up with invited you to his place to work on your guys Economics project. As you walked up to his dorm you could hear him on the phone talking to someone about the “scrawny nerd he had to be paired up with”, you didn’t even care that he was complaining about you because you had been constantly complaining about being paired up with him to your friends. You knocked on the door and heard him say goodbye to the person on the phone and then the door swung open. “YO BRO WHATS UPPPPP?” he asked in a dull yet naturally loud voice. You wanted to roll your eyes knowing that you were probably going to have to do all the heavy lifting for the project, “Hey Jake uhhhh thanks for inviting me over I guess.”. You stepped into his dorm, he must’ve gotten lucky because it looks like he somehow scored a dorm all to himself! “Hey do you not have a roommate or anything?” you asked him, “Nah, I did but I guess they didn’t like staying with me. He said something about the smell being too strong, I guess he couldn’t handle the smell of a real man.” Jake shrugged. As he was saying that you began to notice the aforementioned “smell of a real man”, the room reeked of cum, unwashed clothes, and worst of all it was like a cloud of body odor constantly resided in the room. You didn’t wanna be too rude upfront so you bit your tongue and said nothing about it. Jake kicked some junk away on the floor to create a path for you to get to his desk without stepping into a sea of used clothes and beer cans. You set up shop on the desk trying to not touch anything given that half of the stuff in here is pretty much contaminated with Jake’s funk.

As you begun to open up your laptop and get to work Jake jumps up onto his bed and lets out a loud fart PFFFFBBTTTTT, “Huhuhuh sorry bro had one too many Bud Lights I guess!”. You wave your hand in front of your face hoping to wave away Jake’s potent fart fumes that were filling the room, “Jake, can you maybe try and hold your stench in? At least while i'm here.”, “Oh yea totally man sorry about that! Its just so natural to spread my man stink ya know. Huhuhuh”. “Yea…whatever you say man. Do you mind if we break up the project and split up what each of us is doing?” You said hoping he would just go along with your idea and maybe do at least something. “Ehhhh I think it would just be easier for the both of us if you just do it. I'm probably just gonna keep making mistakes and ruin it bro.”, not wanting to put up a fight with a dude that could easily push you around, you just agreed and began silently working while he played CoD on his bed next to you.

After a few hours you were getting a bit restless and piped up to tell Jake, “Hey I’m gonna go take a quick walk outside and just relax for a bit, do you mind just finding the charts to put onto the slideshow?”. He guffawed and rolled his eyes, “Dude I think you should keep working and do that shit yourself.”. Not liking his attitude you retorted, “Jake I have been working for hours and I just need to get a break from what feels like the toxic stench hanging in this room! I'm going outside and getting some fresh air! I’ll be back in a bit.”, covering your nose with your shirt you stormed outside.

While outside you paced around the outside of the building and felt a bit guilty for yelling at Jake. He is just a little bossy that's all, he probably didn’t deserve to get yelled at like that. You kept walking for a few more minutes and decided that it would probably be best if you apologized just a little for lashing out like that.

Walking back into the dorm room Jake was nowhere to be found, you told yourself he was probably just going to the bathroom or went on a walk too. As you walked back to the desk and sat down you could tell that Jake let out another fart while you were gone. You decided that since he wasn’t here you could put your headphones on and try to distract yourself from the lingering butt funk in the room. Working away for probably only about a few minutes you feel your headphones get ripped off of your head. Turning around you came almost face to face with Jake’s shirtless body, with his armpit on full display.

“UGH JAKE! YOU REEK DUDE!” you shouted out, “Look man I'm sorry I snapped at you it wasn’t right, but you really shouldn’t make people smell your pits just because they ticked you off.”. “Dude you need a total reality check man. I’m gonna help you with that” Jake said completely ignoring what you just said. “What are you talking about man! Put your arm down! It really is starting to stinkkkk…” You said as your words began to drift off. “Huhuh! You’re gonna have a whole new viewpoint when I’m done with you!”

Jake jumps back up on the bed and commands you to come sniff his feet. “Fuck no Jake! This is getting weir-“, PFFFFFBBBBTTT, “Ahhhhhhh” Jake moans out, “Huhuhuh! That one really reeked! Now, come sniff my feet bro.” For whatever reason, as the fumes from Jake’s latest butt blast assault your nose, you realize you should do what Jake commands of you. Without saying a word you got up from the desk and got on your knees right in front of Jake's sockless rancid dogs. “Sniff” Jake ordered. As the foot funk shot up your nostrils and straight into your brain you could feel something shifting.

You felt a light aching sensation spread across your body all at once, it felt as if you had a slight cramp in every part of your body, and all at once your entire body began to change. Your feet quickly turned from a size 9 into a size 14, and just like the feet in front of you, a strong fetid foot funk began to rise up from your massive behemoths. You felt Jake’s feet grow farther away from you as you began to grow taller. Your legs now grown into massive logs, muscular and hairy, propelled you to an admirable height at 6 '7. Topping off the tree trunk legs you now possess grew two massive stinking mounds of fat, perfect for releasing eye watering fumes into a nerd's face.

A gut wrenching pain overtakes you as your stomach begins to twist and turn into an impeccable 6 pack so hard that it is capable of sharpening knives. Next up is your shoulders and arm, you feel like you have been carrying pounds of stone atop your shoulders, they stretch out becoming something that a real man can be proud of. As your shoulders stretch into place your arms begin to inflate causing them to look akin to rolling hills when you flex them. Your armpits fill in with foul-smelling hair that hasn’t been touched by deodorant or soap since middle school. You’ve always wanted to let your pheromones exist as a natural aphrodisiac to all the horny gay guys who have always drooled all over you. As the stench from your pits begins to add to the preexisting amalgamation of pure unadulterated bro-stink in the dorm room your face begins to transform. Your nose cracks and shortens, yet not altering your ability to huff Jake’s foot funk. Your eyebrows grow messy and your eyes lose their sparkle and become dull orbs. Your lips shrink becoming less plump and your mouth becomes cramped as it needs to fit your now massive tongue. And the last part of you that is about to undergo the jockification is your gorgeous hair purposefully and painstakingly styled everyday to look like an effortless fluffy mane. It quickly turns into a simple jock haircut which perfectly matches the simple jock you are about to be when you have finished transforming.

Seeing that you have finished the physical jockification Jake giddily and rhetorically asks you “Are you ready to be just as dumb as you look hot stuff ?”, knowing full well that the cloud of stink sitting in your skull prevents you from saying anything back. “Huhuhuh, it’s gonna be so nice to have a roomie who loves man stink just as much as me.” Jake announces as he commences your mental transformation. PPFFFFFBBBBBTTTT. Jake releases another round of funk filled flatulence and watches as his new best friend inhales his fart. As the fart quickly rushes through your brain it turns anything it encounters into a broified memory. The years of studying history and social science turns into years of working up a stink with your best friend Jake. The hours it took to apply to this college and apply for loans turn into a full ride scholarship for your soccer prowess. All of your memories with your gal pals in highschool turn into memories of goofing around with your bros. All of your intelligence and memories are wiped out or transformed in the blink of an eye, leaving behind a dumb, horny nineteen year old who can only pass his classes due to the tutoring he receives from the nerdy boys who want a piece of you.

Getting up from your knees and slowly regaining your bearings, you look around the room seeing all of your things scattered about the floor and the posters of half naked men all over your wall. “Huhuhuh Jake did you hot box the room with your farts againnnnn” you dumbly inquired, “Uhhh yea bro of course I did! Who else can let out such a potent blast from the ass! Buhuh” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at his own stupid joke. “Well we gotta open a window cuz I have a date coming over and I don't need them thinking that we always smell so rank.” you responded. “Ummmm but bro like…we do always smell rank.”, “Well I just don't want to knock him out with your fumes okay dudeeeee!”. “Wait…him?” Jake asked, “Yea Jake, HIM. You’ve known that I've been gay since like high school! Duuuuhhhhh!”. “Damnit! The stink didn’t change that!” Jake groaned out, “What are you talking about dude?” You said as Jake make a concentrated expression and turned his back to you. “What was supposed to chang-“ PPPPFFFFBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!! Jake let out the longest fart you have ever heard him let out, and once again Jake’s gas went straight to your brain reaching deep enough to turn the last pre-jockified bit of you, your gayness, into pure heterosexuality. Physically recoiling from the stink you felt your desire to conquer a twink turn into a desire to impregnate a dumb blonde. As the mental transformation was finally totally complete you watched as right before your eyes the posters of hunky men turned into posters of big boobed bimbos.

“Huhuhuhuh bro I can't wait to spread my seed into the dumb bitch I met at the Frat Party the other day!” You said pawing at your crotch. That perfect butt of yours will now never be used for anything other than hotboxing a room with your gas or shitting out the smelliest dumps ever.

[transformhim]

Enrique arrived home from work sooner than expected, so his roommate, Ben, didn’t think to tell his boyfriend, Hank, to come over so early. To Enrique’s surprise, in addition to the surprise of finding their apartment door wide open and R&B music blaring from behind his Ben’s door, his roommate’s boy toy was perched on his bed, anxiously awaiting Ben to get home to try out a bit of role play.

His eyes were blindfolded and he was perched with his ass in the air, his asshole exposed thanks to his jockstrap. A fun idea popped into Enrique’s mind... yeah, why not? He hadn’t pulled a trick like this since at least his junior year in college—a good 4 years ago—and he was sure he wouldn’t come across another opportunity like this in a long time. He should act quick, before Ben comes home.

Enrique raced into his room as quietly as he could and completely disrobed. He rushed into his bathroom, grabbing his giant bottle of body oil—the one he kept around specifically for events such as this—and stood in his shower to completely drench himself in it. He rubbed it all over, making sure he was good and slick in all areas of his body before he went to work. He took one look at his nude, oily self in the mirror one last time and quickly but quietly made his way to Ben’s room.

He wasted no time. Enrique immediately squeezed Hank’s juicy ass, kneading his muscles and tenderizing his entry. Hank jolted a little, surprised by the touch, but immediately thought it was Ben.

“What took you so long, stud?” Hank moaned and a grin.

Enrique didn’t respond. He immediately went to work, putting two fingers against Hank’s hole, making him pulse and grind against his touch. Enrique rubbed two oily fingers around his hole, eventually plunging them in with a pleasured gasp from Hank. He continued rubbing his fingers in and around Hank’s hole, relaxing the muscles around it and coaxing it wider. Eventually, he brought his other hand into the mix and started pleasuring Hank’s hole with two hands, rubbing in and around his pleasure areas and coaxing his hole ever wider. Seeing Hank’s hole good and relaxed, Enrique then knelt, bringing his face between Hank’s cheeks and started doing the same with his tongue, plunging in and out, swirling around the tender rim of his rosebud.

“Fuuuckk, babe, you’ve never done it this good—Ooohh..” Hank moaned/gasped between writhing fits.

Enrique almost chuckled to himself. He has no idea! Better get this show on the road before Ben comes home, though. Mere seconds after Hank praised his work, Enrique plunged his slick, oiled head inside Hank’s ass, causing Hank to call out in combined pleasure and pain. His facial features stretched out and he could feel the pressure of Hank’s body compressing him as he entered, but he could soon feel Hank’s hole constrict around his neck and then expand again around his shoulders. Enrique could hear Hank’s intense but muffled pleasured/pained groans and feel their vibrations inside Hank’s guts as he excitedly wriggled his way in. His entire torso was now inside Hank as he felt his hole expand again to fit Enrique’s round ass and sizable cock and balls, which was now engorged due to the orgasmic process of entering Hank. The upper part of his lower body finally slurped up into Hank, and his hole began to constrict for the last time as Enrique’s oiled up, thick legs were swallowed by Hank’s tightening hole. Hank’s groans became distant as his consciousness slipped into the back of his mind as Enrique slowly began to take over. The last of Enrique, his large feet, slipped into Hank with a wet, slurping, squelch and residual drops of oil from Enrique dribbled out of Hank’s hole and onto the bedding. Hank’s body twitched, swelled, and bulged all over as Enrique began to position himself inside of Hank. Legs slipped inside of legs, arms slipped inside of arms, cocks sheathed inside of cocks, and finally, a large lump formed in Hank’s throat, working its way up into his head, and finally popped up into Hank’s head, his eyes bolting open and taking huge, gasping breaths.

“Woooo!! Holy fuckin’ shit!” Enrique panted in Hank’s Californian accent, feeling his body pulse and throb all over as it settled into its smaller but beefier frame. He knealt up on the bed and pulled his mask up to get a good look at himself. Enrique had seen Hank around the house several times, but never this bare and never this close! He rubbed his hands up and down his abs, squeezed his pecs, flexed his python arms, and worshipped himself all over. He could see and feel his new, thicker cock pressing hard against the fabric of the jockstrap, and he freed it to get a good look. It slapped wetly against his lower abs, slick with pre and throbbing red. He stroked its length and wrapped a hand around it and started to pump it when he heard the front door open and close, hearing the lock bolt into place. ‘Shit, Ben’s back!’ he thought as he quickly put the mask back into place and assumed the position he had found Hank in.

Enrique heard the door swing open and Ben spoke up in his sexy, gruff baritone, “Well well well, look what we have here...” Enrique grinned and arched his back more, accentuating his new ass and exposing his eager hole more for Ben. He heard Ben’s clothing fall to the floor and felt his hands grab his ass and a finger run along his hole, feeling the oil left over. “Damn, you really prepared for this, didn’t you? All lubed up and everything...” Enrique responded simply by pushing his ass back against Ben’s finger, urging it to plunge deeper. “Alright then, slut, I won’t waste anymore time.” Ben purred in a teasing voice as Enrique felt Ben’s spongy, engorged cock head press up against his oily hole.

Ben slid in effortlessly and Hank’s hole was once again stretched widely as Ben’s girthy member squeezed into its warm confines. Enrique let out a huge moan as he felt the ecstatic rush burn through his body, and he squeezed the muscles around his hole to tighten around Ben’s cock as it began to slide back and forth through his guts. Ben varied his thrusts with intensity, and Enrique made sure to be as vocal as possible to urge Ben to keep giving it to him harder. Ben spun Hank around on his dick so that he was facing him, Hank’s legs straddling his torso, and Enrique threw off his mask to get a good look at his roommate as he pounded away in his hole, something Enrique is certain would never happen under normal circumstances. They gave panting grins to one another and Ben went down to lock lips with Enrique, still thrusting into his tight hole. With a few more pumps, Ben seized up and Enrique could feel Ben’s cock enlarge, pulse, and vibrate as warm jizz flooded his guts while Ben threw his head back in a loud moan.

Ben collapsed onto the bed with Enrique and the two writhed around on the bed swapping tongues and making out. Ben rolled onto his back and stretched.

“It’s been a hell of a day, babe. Mind if I crash for a few minutes?”

“Take as long as you need, stud,” Enrique answered in Hank’s voice. The two exchanged one last kiss and Ben lolled his head to the side and closed his eyes. Within a minute, Ben was knocked out. Enrique slid out from under him and decided that this would be a good time to “abandon ship,” so to speak.

He snuck back into his own room in Hank’s body and stood on top of the bed and bent down into a squatting position. This was always an awkward moment in the process, he knew, but one that eventually had to be done. He tightened the muscles in his neck, chest, and abs, and began to push.

After a few straining grunts, the only things to come out were some residual oil and copious volumes of Ben’s cum. Then, he began to moan louder as he felt pressure build in his ass. Suddenly, Enrique’s feet popped out, and the rest of his legs slid out after a short time. Hank’s eyes were rolled back, still squatting and straining as Enrique’s waist slid out, followed by his abs, and then his arms, and then his chest, and finally his shoulders. Hank’s body fell forward on its face, landing ass-up on the bed as Enrique pressed his hands against Hank’s ample thighs to support himself as he attempted to pull his head free. After some pulling, Enrique’s head finally popped out and he took in several heaving gasps of air.

Enrique wiped the juices, oil, and mucus from his eyes as he watched Hank slump forward more, passing out from the experience. ‘Better put him back where he belongs,’ Enrique thought as he scooped a slick arm under Hank’s armpits.

He dragged Hank back across the hall into Ben’s bedroom, his heavy, muscular frame making the task somewhat more difficult. When he arrived, he let Hank tumble to the ground as he stood back upright to catch his breath. As he did, he looked over panting and saw Ben laying on the bed, snoozing deeply and exposed to anyone who entered.

Enrique had to admit, Ben’s body looked damn inviting sprawled out across his bed like that. He’d always had a thing for his roommate and had finally gotten the opportunity to be impaled by his horse cock, but he wondered for a moment what it would be like to be Ben. He now knew what it was like to be fucked by Ben, but he wondered what it was like fucking as Ben. He looked down at himself. He was still covered in Hank’s juices and oil from before, not to mention his body was now used to the transition so it would be a quick process... Fuck it, why not? Today seemed to be a day of ‘Fuck it, why not’s.

Enrique stepped over Hank’s limp, unconscious body and walked over to the side of Ben’s bed. ‘Where to go, where to go...’ he pondered to himself as he looked over Ben, determining the best entry point for taking Ben for a ride. He knew just where to go, an entry point he hadn’t used since his college days, when everyone was experimenting and open for all kinds of weird experiences.

He threw back the covers from Ben’s waist and leaned over his dick. He gingerly stuck a tongue out and licked the tip a little bit, just to get the blood flowing. He continued licking/tickling Ben’s mushroom tip until his cock was fully hard. Ben was grinning, moaning, and writhing in ecstasy on the bed, obviously thrilled with whatever this was doing for him in the dream he was having. Enrique smiled up at him and braced himself for entry.

He held onto the rigid cock and pressed his nose up against Ben’s cock slit, and it began widening and sucking Ben down, as if it had a mind of its own and aided by Enrique’s soaked, slick, slimy body. Ben’s cock stretched impossibly longer and wider, his cock slit opening and slurping down Enrique’s head. Like a fleshy snake come alive, it lurched forward and eagerly sucked Enrique into Ben’s body, his slick torso and lower body making easy work of the process. As he neared the lower end of his body, Ben’s cock began to recede back to its standard, yet still massive size, still gulping down Enrique’s legs and feet. Finally, the last of Enrique slid inside, as a combination of Hank’s bodily fluids, Enrique’s oil, and Ben’s pre came dribbling out of his cock slit in a tiny river.

Ben’s body went through small convulsions and vibrations, as it swelled and bulged while Enrique made himself comfortable, until he shot up and opened his eyes. Enrique let out a big stretch and moaned, absolutley stoked to be occupying the body of his handsome stud of a roommate.

Before he could have a chance to fully admire himself, Hank groaned and sat up, looking around confusingly and wondering why he was on the floor. Enrique swung his meaty legs off the side of the bed and stood up, his stiff cock bouncing, hovering in front of him. Hank noticed his boyfriend towering over him and grinned.

Enrique looked down at him with a smile, “Ready for round two, big boy?”

‘Round two?’ Hank thought but didn’t have much time to process it as Enrique lurched his cock towards his face, which Hank eagerly swallowed.

Hank sucked like a pro and Enrique took both sides of Hank’s head with Ben’s hands and began to skull-fuck him. Hank reciprocated it and reached around to finger Ben’s tight, warm hole.

Enrique threw his head back and moaned in Ben’s deep, sensual voice. ‘Fuck,’ he thought, ‘I’m really gonna have to do this more often.’

[the-daily-body]

This is perfection

[bizzhideaway]

Read the contract

[misctf]

The Game Show

You can think of a few reasons why you found yourself in the audience that night. Well, really one. When you heard "Are You Smarter Than A Himbo" was putting on a show in your neighborhood, you couldn't resist. Sure, it was kind of stupid. You'd seen the clips online. They'd bring some braindead jock up on stage to flex, laugh, crack jokes, and answer basic trivia wrong. The poor idiot would laugh along as the audience laughed at him. You'd always figured the dunce was too dumb to realize they were laughing at him. But fuck, those guys were hot. So if anything, you'd get to ogle at some hot guy flexing all night and maybe get a few laughs out of it too.

"Do you think Zak's pecs are real?"

"Jason is like totally the hottest."

"I think Ryan isn't as dumb as he lets on."

"Did you know Mike is single? I can't…"

You roll your eyes at the fanfare all around you. These people were seriously into it. And then it starts.

"Welcome everyone!" You watch as a lanky man struts on stage with his hair slicked back and a wide grin on his face, "Are you ready!?" The crowd- mostly women and a few guys cheered in response, "I said: are you ready!?" You roll your eyes as the host worked the crowd, "Alright, alright… welcome." The host smiles wider, "Put your hands together for our main man!"

The host gestures toward the side of the stage and Zak strolls out with a slow, confident walk, his arms flexed as if expecting applause. He’s got thick curls falling over his forehead, and his chest is packed with muscle, tight under his white tank top. The crowd goes wild as he steps onto the platform.

“Y’all ready?” Zak shouts, raising both arms above his head. “Let’s go!” He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, and your eyes widen as you take in his massive pecs and perfect abs. The crowd similarly goes wild. Zak grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth, "I'm so fuckin' pumped to be here tonight! I fuckin' love you guys!"

"But Zak, I think you have something to say to everyone. Right?" The host interjects, patting the massive jock on the back.

"Yo dude yeah, for real." Zak nods, "Like, this is gonna be my last show, ya know? With the whole modeling thing blowin' up and all." The audience groans, "I know, it sucks majorly, trust me!" Zak frowns, "But like, you'll get to see plenty more of me. Trust me brahs." He winks and the crowd cheers.

The host claps, "That’s what I like to hear! Alright, let’s get started!"

You lean forward in your seat as the first audience member is brought up. It only takes a few questions for her to utterly humiliate Zak, who just laughs and flexes like the dumb himbo that he is. As the contestant returns to her seat, the host's eyes scan the crowd, zeroing in on you.

"What about you there in the blue shirt? He looks smart, right Zak? Let's get you up here!"

Initially you're shocked. You? The host gestures for you to make your way up to the stage. You can feel your heart pounding as you climb the stairs, palms feeling a little sweaty. The bright lights, all eyes on you. And as you step onto the stage, you get an up close look of Zak. His biceps bulge impressively, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But god he smells like a wet gym sock.

"Sup bro, nice to meetcha!" Zak grins and throws a muscular arm around you, "Dude, you ready for this?"

"Aw do I sense a budding bromance?" The host grins and the crowd cheers. After settling them down, he turns to you. "You know how this works by now. Do you think you're smarter than a himbo?"

"Yeah, I think I am." You reply.

"Heh we'll see about that, bro!" Zak guffaws, "I was just goin' easy on that last chick."

"The confidence!" The host laughs, "Let's put it to the test. Your first question: Which is the only sea without any coastlines?"

You ponder for a moment. A sea without a coastline? That's... god what was that? You feel your cheeks flushing red, as you realize you don't know the answer to that. But if you don't know the answer, Zak would definitely not know either. Speaking of Zak, he's bouncing his pecs like the oversized gym bro he is.

"Is it the Caspian Sea?" You shrug, eyes still locked on his massive pecs. Of course the host shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.

"Ah, seems Mr. Smartypants here was a bit too distracted admiring the view to ace that question!" He winks at the audience, while Zak flexes.

"No shame in that, brah!"

You feel your face flush red with embarrassment as the laughter from the audience washes over you. Great, now they all think you're just another hormone-addled fool who can't string two thoughts together because of a pretty face.

"Alright Zak, a question for you now buddy!" You figure Zak is about to bomb this question anyway- round will end in a tie and you can walk away with some dignity, "What color are bananas?"

Zak scratches his head, "Dude… tricky." He chuckles, low and dumb, "So, I want to say yellow, but also green when they're not ripe. Oh but brown too if they go for too long!"

"Fantastic answer Zak! Well thought out!" The host grins as the crowd cheers, "Uh oh, looks like Zak has pulled ahead!"

The fuck kind of question was that? You look at the host and then Zak, who is doing a victory dance. The color of bananas? Of course Zak would know that- he's a fucking ape. You smirk at your own joke.

"Okay okay, let's try another one! Mr. Smartypants, are you ready to redeem yourself?" You're ready, more than ready. You're not..., "What pigments are responsible for the red color of leaves?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't have an answer for that. Maybe you did know it, but between the flexing stud and the stage fright, you couldn't find the information.

"Chlorophyll."

"What a shame! That is not correct." He smiles at the audience, "It seems Zak may have a chance to widen his lead! Hey big guy, what day of the month is Christmas celebrated on?" It takes Zak maybe a minute or two to answer that one correctly, "Look at that folks, Zak is now up by two!" He turns to you with a grin, "Seems our guest is not much of a smartypants after all!"

Again, your face flush reds, "No worries, little dude." Zak ruffles your hair, "I uh, I got some smarts, ya know." He looks out towards the audience, "Last show brahs but first win!"

The crowd cheers and it dawns on you that you might be the first person to actually lose this stupid game. Frustration bubbles up inside you as the host and crowd continue to mock you. You're better than this, smarter than being made a fool of. Screw it, you're going to show them all up.

"I could answer every single one of those easy-ass questions he's getting," you mutter under your breath, but the mic picks it up anyway. The host's eyes light up.

"Oh ho, is that so?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features. "Well then, why don't you prove it, hot shot? Let's see if you can handle something a little more…your speed. Here we go bud - how does the body cool down during intense exercise like a heavy workout session?"

You chuckle. Really? This was the question? You clear your voice, "Sweating. That's how it keeps from overheating."

"Correct!"

"Woah bro, nice one!"

Yeah... that was a nice one. Finally got a question right... finally... You wince as a warmth fills your upper arms. At first it's just a gentle tingling, a warm buzzing beneath your skin. But quickly it builds to a throbbing, insistent pressure.

"What the…?"

The sensation intensifies, an intensifying heat pulsing through your upper arms. Your skin prickles and tightens as your biceps and triceps stretch against the sleeve of your shirt. It feels like the most intense pump after a grueling workout, but magnified tenfold. Your arms throbbing, aching. You feel aware of just how much more space they're taking up. And the twitching- it's incessant. Unconsciously, your arms start to rise, muscles tensing, flexing…

"Whoa…" you mutter, marveling at the sheer size and density of your upper arms, "How…?"

The host clears his throat pointedly, breaking you out of your awestruck reverie. "Ahem, moving on! Thanks for that… demonstration." He shoots you a knowing wink, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if we can't challenge that big ol' brain of yours with another question, shall we? What does the acronym SBD stand for in powerlifting?"

"Oh brah, way too easy." Zak chides, crossing his massive arms over his muscular chest, "Even I know that one."

But your head is swimming. The powerful feeling in your arms send pleasurable waves of warmth through your body. But your mind. You're reviewing the question. Thinking it through. SBD? In powerlifting?

"SBD... SBD..." You rub your chin, unconsciously flexing your now massive bicep, "Huh... like... That's uh..."

You look over at Zak and he's making some kind of motion. A goofy grin on his face as he squats. Squats. Squats!

"Bro!" You grin, "Squats, dude! Yeah, that's what the S stands for." You grin, but the host shakes his head, "C'mon what?" You pout.

"You're still forgetting the rest." The host smiles, "And the timer is counting down."

You shuffle anxiously on your feet. You know this, right? But why would you? You're not into powerlifting. But like, it should be easy. If S stands for squats then like, wouldn't B and D also be something to do with working out? Yeah? Totally, that makes sense. But like, what else is there? What other... huh... shirt is getting kinda tight too. And fuck, you can't help but notice how warm your chest feels. Nice and warm, pressing more and more against the fabric of your shirt. Stretching it out against your big, meaty...

"Bench press, brah! B stands for bench press!" You say with a grin as your shirt starts to tear away, revealing a set of massive pecs and a chiseled torso, "Huh where'd my shirt go?" The audience cheers and you grin, staring down as you bounce your pecs.

"Excellent job, but unfortunately, you didn't finish. You missed D, you big dunce."

The host laughs, and you laugh along with him and the audience. Big dunce. Yeah that's... that's you? You pause for a second and start to feel that same embarrassment from earlier. They're laughing... not with you, but...

"Dude, can't win em all!" Zak slaps you on your increasingly wider back and you turn to him- now at eye-level, "But like, brah, you've got this next one!"

"Y-y-you th-think so.... brah?" Your tongue feels heavy, the words feel sluggish. You notice your voice sounds deeper to your ears, "I..."

"You have to focus there, smartypants!" The host interrupts, "Two more questions. Are you ready?" You nod slowly, "In a deadlift, how high are you supposed to lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Deadlift..." Your eyes light up suddenly, "Wait, bro! The D! That's what D stands for, brah!" You say excitedly.

The whole audience laughs, as does the host. You look at him, feeling a strange sense of confusion bubbling up. Why were they laughing? What was so funny?

"Good job there, but that was the last question. We've moved on, big guy."

"Oh..." You chuckle, a grin forming on your lips as you let out a deep, dumb laugh, "Huhuhuh that was pretty stupid of me." The audience and the host laugh even louder, and you find yourself joining in, "Alright, gotta lock in, gotta... brah what was the question?"

"Dead lifts..."

"Oh fuck yeah! I fuckin' love deadlifts."

The host grins, "Yes, exactly! So tell us, when doing a deadlift, how high do you lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Yeah... uh..." You bite your lip, thinking hard. Your fingers drum against your swollen bicep as you try to concentrate and with a sigh, lift your hands behind your head, "Oh nice..."

Your eyes lock on to your bulging bis and tris and you're momentarily distracted. But the sharp tang of your own musk drifts up from your armpits, momentarily derailing your train of thought. Fuck, you smell good. Really fucking good. But since when did you...?

"Brah, c'mon you got this." Zak says, watching you closely.

You shake your head and run a hand through your perfectly gelled, styled hair, before pausing- fuck your aesthetic is probably cooked. You awkwardly pat at your hair.

"Worry about your hair later, you've got a question to answer." The host says.

"Fuck, sorry..." You let out an awkward chuckle, "Just gotta..."

Your body moves instinctively into the proper deadlift position—back straight, knees slightly bent, hips pushed back—as if you've done this 1000s of times before. As you demonstrate the form flawlessly, a new awareness floods your lower body. Your glutes feel… alive. Heavy. Round. Perfect. You grin as you squeeze them unconsciously, feeling the dense muscle fibers contract.

"The answer is hips, bro."

"Let's fuckin' go, brah!" Zak cheers and slaps you on the ass, sending a wave of intense pleasure reverberating through your meaty glutes.

As the crowd cheers, your eyes lock on Zak. The pleasure from him slapping your ass still making you shudder. You drink him in, fixated on the prominent bulge straining against his gym shorts.

"Fuck..." You mumble- he's packing serious heat there.

Your mouth waters involuntarily as fantasies flood your mind- Zak pinning you down, those huge hands squeezing your meaty ass while he drives his massive cock deep inside you. The image of you riding his thick cock sends shivers down your growing frame, and you imagine running your tongue over every inch of his sweat-slick skin. You lick your lips and grin at the thought.

When your eyes meet again, Zak doesn't look away. Instead, his smirk widens as he catches you staring, and the few brain cells he has recognize exactly what you’re thinking. He flexes for the audience, but he turns to give you a quick wink, letting you know all that flexing was just for you... because he wants you to know he wants you too. After all, you know there's not way he could resist you either. With your... bulging pecs? Massive arms? Thick glutes?

"Wait..." You mumble. You can feel the rusting gears in your increasingly empty head turn ever so slightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Your head was spinning, brain trying to make sense of all of it.

Something’s off, right? Like... this ain’t how it used to be. You know that. You weren’t… this. But then... what were you then, dude? Cause, like, look at you. Seriously... just look. You’re absolutely shredded. I mean, c’mon, those arms? That chest? You don’t just wake up lookin’ this jacked without bein’… well, this guy. So how could you not be you if you straight-up look like you? Right?

A dumb chuckle escapes your lips as all that thinking overwhelms and shuts down whatever last remaining brain cells you have.

The host snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your haze. "Earth to bro, we still got one question."

"Huh? Wha-" You blink slowly, your expression vacant and slack. Drool slips down your chin as you stare blankly ahead.

"Are you smarter than a himbo?" The host grins.

"Nawww, bro, 'course not!" You reply with a big, dumb grin spreading across your face, "Can't be smarter than a himbo cuz… I AM the fuckin' himbo, bro!"

The host laughs, shaking his head, "Well folks, I guess that settles it! Looks like we've got ourselves a new resident himbo to take Zak's place. Give it up for… COLT!"

The audience erupts into cheers and applause as you beam proudly, basking in the spotlight. You feel Zak sling a muscular arm around your broad shoulders, squeezing you close.

"Dude, so fuckin' glad you're joinin' the fam, bro!" Zak enthuses, his hand drifting lower to grope your ass possessively, "Trust me bro, you're gonna love it."

Zak's strong grip on your juicy ass makes you shudder and you can tell by that grin that he's thinking exactly what you're thinking.

The host clears his throat loudly, snapping you out of your lustful stupor. "Don't forget to wave to the crowd, champ!" He gestures encouragingly towards the audience.

With a dopey grin, you raise a hand in greeting, relishing the adoration pouring in from all sides.

"Thanks y'all, this is gonna be fuckin' sick!" You call out enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot.

And as Zak digs his fingers into your massive ass, you lick your lips hungrily. The only thought in your empty head was that once this show was over, you'd be giving him a private encore performance that neither of you would forget…

[nonotnolan]

Post-Exam Karma

“Are you done yet?” Shane asked, glaring at me from his armchair. “Put your shirt back on, and go fetch the Body Swapper. Like, I’m grateful for you completing those exams for me and all, but that’s why I paid you. Nothing personal, but the sooner I can get the hell out of your body, the better.”

I found myself speechless, mostly because I could barely recognize myself. Usually I wore retro T-shirts and jeans. I didn’t realize that I even owned a polo shirt, let alone whatever it was that Shane was doing to my hair. Not that it mattered. From now on, it wasn’t going to be my problem any more.

“You realize we’re not switching back, right?” He leaned forward, trying to put an intimidating scowl on his face before remembering that he now weighed at least a hundred pounds less than before. Taking a deep breath, I continued. “You’re a terrible student, a terrible son, and a terrible boyfriend. I’ve put up with your shit for years. I was supposed to be your roommate, not your tutor or your housekeeper. I basically set up your life for you, and I got nothing in return. So, now that you’ve played your last college football game, ever? I’m taking that life from you.”

He pulled himself up to his full height, which was now much less impressive than it used to be. “Do you really think you can get away with this?”

“I’ve already gotten away with it,” I said, taking a picture of my new body to send to my boyfriend. Eric was skeptical at first, but after filling him with seven inches of jock meat, he believes me. “It’s not like anyone from the NFL wants you. You’re good, but not that good. Anything weird that I do now, I can just pretend that I wanted some new changes in my life. Like these glasses. You look really hot in glasses, Shane. My boyfriend definitely agrees.”

“Don’t you fucking dare use my body for that gay shit,” he growled, poking me in the stomach. Seeing him clenching his fists in anger made all those previous months of hell worth every minute.

“It’s far too late for that,” I said, patting him on top of his head. “You’ve officially lost your anal virginity both ways.”

Shane tried to raise a threatening fist at me. “When Katie finds out about this, she’ll–”

“Katie? Your girlfriend? Shane, who the hell do you think gave me the idea?” God, seeing him reap all of this karma was so beautiful. “You cheated on her with half of the cheerleading team, bragged about it, and you still thought she was on your side? She’s the one helping me interact with your parents without tipping them off that something fucky is going on. Not that you seem to spend much time with them, but I don’t want to cut off that sweet, sweet parental allowance. I’ve giving Katie a cool $5,000 to pretend to be my girlfriend each month, and then when we both think I’m ready, I’ll surprise everyone by coming out of the closet.”

“At which point my parents will disown you,” Shane muttered, clenching his jaw in fury.

“At which point I’ll have a savings account with five figures, and a professional job of my own,” I said, correcting him. “It’s amazing how much money you can save up when you aren’t flying down to the Hamptons every other week. Give it up, Shane, we’ve been planning this for weeks.”

————————————————

I don’t know how Shane’s holding up in my old body. Some of Eric’s friends told us stories about how Henry went off the deep end and barely managed to avoid the psych ward, so I can only assume he’s not doing too well. Still, that’s not my problem.

Katie’s doing much better now that her boyfriend isn’t a total asshole. We still keep in touch, sometimes. Shane’s parents didn’t disown me when I told them their son was dating a man, so that has been a pleasant surprise. Honestly, I think they credit him for their son’s reversal in behavior.

Eric and I have been dating for a few years now, so it’s only a matter of time before one of us proposes. He’s officially known me longer in Shane’s body than he did in my old body, so that’s exciting. As for me? I wear polo shirts now. I have to confess, they look good.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

“Are you sure this is what you want ?” I asked Mike as we pulled up to the old shop. He was giddy from excitement. “Yes!” He practically yelled at me. “For the last time I’ve thought this through and this is what I want !” I looked down. He knew he had upset me. Lashing out the way he did. With a kinder approach he reaching forward and lifted my head. “Thank you for supporting me in his. Now come on. This will benefit both of us !” I forces a smile. And got out of the car. We both walked into the old shop where we seen an old man standing behind the counter. “Are you my 1 o clock?” He asked and Mike was nervous and stiff as a board. “Yes. He is your one o’clock” I answered for him. “Ahh. Seems to be a bit nervous. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and freshen up. Sometimes that helps to calm the nerves”. He motioned to a door in the corner. I pushed Mike in the direction and he stumbled over his feet. I knew he was nervous. It it would give me time to talk to the old man about specifics. While in the bathroom mike took a good chance to look at himself one last time.

————

“Are you sure ? Really that’s what you want ? That’s what he wants ?” The old man asked me. “If you don’t believe eive me ask him yourself. He’s dead set on this.” I responded.

“He’s right”. We both turned our heads. Mike was standing at the doorway of the bathroom now. “It’s what I want. Everything he said is true.”

The old man laughed. “Normally I only do things like this as a punishment but my dear man. You just want it ! Fine. Take your seat in the spot light !” Mike walked towards me nervously and kissed me before taking his place right in front of the camera. The old man smiled “well “big guy”, here goes nothing !” And with that a bright light went off in the shop. Blinding everyone’s vision for a split second. And when everything came back into vision, Mike was no longer standing there. But in his place was. Large hairy body builder of a man.

“Well I think it worked ! If I do say so myself!” The old man smiled. He pulled the negative out of the back of the camera which held the original copy of Mike. He held it to me “You know how to make this permanent for him now……”

——————

Back at their apartment Mike and his boyfriend now has to get used to the new normal. Mike was now an extremely large hairy muscular man who took up way more space than he used to. He thundered through the apartment like an animal and made loud noises like one too. What was even more was that he wasn’t even aware he was doing any of it. Nick watched as his boyfriend just lumbered about the about the apartment. He had to admit. As much as he caught the change at does the couldn’t help but love the idea of having this huge muscle beast living him now. Sure he stunk like a sweaty gym and sweat like no tomorrow. He was eating constantly but there was just something about him that nick couldn’t help but love watching. The downside though was that it was impossible to me to carry to conversation with Mike now. Half of what he said made no sense to Nick anymore. It was all bro talk.

The shoe store was another escapade to have to have to deal with. They had to find something to fit Mike now. The clerk didn’t know how to respond when Mike just started at him dumbly when asked what his size was and Nick shrugged his shoulders because he had no clue. They two were led to a bench where Mike was sat down and a massive foot was placed on the sizer.

Looking down Mike furrowed his brow. Numbers were so hard for him now and he rubbed his forehead. Nick was astounded. 15 wide. Damn. He really was massive now. The clerk went to get a large size of trainer shoes for Mike and Nick ended up choosing something for Mike that would fit a gym junkie. After all. He needed something that would fit his needs body type and personality right ? It’s not like he would be wearing dress shoes anymore.

On the way back to the apartment they passed the photo shop and Mike stopped. For the first time since the change, Nick actually understood him for one outside of the obnoxious bro talk “let’s go in”. Curious not sure why he would want to go back in to the store, Nick followed him. The old man was still behind the counter. He looked at the two and smiled. “Back so soon ?” Mike just smiled. Nick was confused because it seemed like the two already had a conversation just based on the way they were looking at each other.

The next thing Nick knew, he Mike jumped out of the way as the old man pointed the camera directly at him and took a picture.

“What did you just do to me !!!” Nic screamed and ran to the mirror. After seeing his reflection he slowly started taking a step back. He had been changed. No longer was he the thin or shy looking as before. Replaced for everyone to see was a shirt covered muscular cubbish man. One that looked dim in the eyes. He looked as if he’d done too many poppers! He heard a rustle and looked at the old man as his negative picture was handed to Mike who grinned as he pulled out his own original picture. Mike spoke to him and now made perfect sense. “Time to make this our new normal” and with that he ripped both pictures in half causing the bright light to appear. Sealing them in their glamour.

Nick couldn’t stop looking at his boyfriend Mike with thirsty eyes as he flexed for him. Drooling constantly as his boyfriend was a walking piece of meat. He was everything he could have dreamed of. He was obsessed with him. He couldn’t think of anything else ! Everything Mike told him to do he obeyed like a good servant boyfriend would. Mike was the dominant owner in the relationship and he made sure Nick knew it. Forcing Nick to accept him in all orifices. Worshiping every inch of his muscular form. Sure Mike wasn’t that smart but he made sure that Nick was a few notches dumber on that scale to make sure he wasn’t outsmarted in anyway. He wanted to make sure Nick was the perfect hairy dumb sub he needed and he got exactly that. In thought and looks. The only thing Mike hated was that he put off forcing this change on the two of them sooner.

[nonotnolan]

Time to Waste

There wasn't much to do in Suburbia over the summer, especially if you were as unpopular as I was. Sure, I'd managed to collect several friends in college, but unfortunately we all lived in different cities. I wasn't lucky enough to be able to afford an apartment over the summer, which meant I was stuck back home. Discord helped counter some of the loneliness, sure, but it was the glacial pace of the weekday afternoons that was slowly driving me to boredom. So when I heard the doorbell, of course I thought it was some door to door salesman or something.

Instead, it was Dale-- the next door neighbor who used to be one of my closest friends... until he abandoned me in High School once the Football team offered him an "in" with the cool kids. "Can I come in?" he asked, scuffing his foot on the cement porch. I glared at him, trying to figure out just how much audacity he must have to be here after he made four of the past five years of my life a living hell.

"Alright, look," he said, staring intently at the door. It was uncharacteristically awkward of him, and it was throwing me off guard. "I know I was an asshole, and you're not obligated to forgive me. But I... look, one year in college was enough to show me just how unfair I was to you, and I... was hoping you'd allow me to make it up to you somehow? So that we can be friends again?" He looked into my eyes, and I could almost swear they were starting to water.

But how could it ever be enough? I scowled, crossing my arms as I glared at him. "So the rumors were true. You were outed as a gay man, and now everyone's abandoned you." I expected him to deflect, to get mad, to-- to do something!... but instead he just stared at the ground. I had gone too far. "Alright, look. I feel bad for you, I do, but... do you have any idea how much hurt you caused me? That doesn't all go away just because you've also been hurt. Just what do you think you could offer that would make me forgive you?"

He tapped the side of his neck, just under his ear. "You've got a Swapper unit, right? How about I give you access to my body, no strings attached?" He flashed me a suave grin and he flexed his bicep. No wonder he showed up at my door without wearing a shirt, he wanted to make sure I'd noticed all of the muscle he'd gained over the past few years. "And not just for tonight," he added. "Neither of us have a job over the summer, right? You can wear my body to all of the local parties I've been invited to-- hell, you can score some pussy in my body, I don't mind."

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely intrigued by his offer. My v-card was practically burning a hole in my pocket, and being inside of Dale's sexy body instead of my thin, gangly frame would make that so much easier to deal with. I gestured him inside, and he flopped down on the living room couch just like old times. "I... okay, obviously I'm interested, but... what's in it for you?"

"Well, for starters, I'd get one of my close friends back," he said, smiling at me. "But also... you were right, I got outed. A lot of people are trying to freeze me out ever since I got caught in the locker rooms with Jeff. But no one has any proof, and the person who caught us is kind of an asshole. So I figure, if people see my body hooking up with women, maybe this whole thing will blow over. I'm not exactly excited to go back into the closet, but... locker room talk, you know how it is." He paused for a few moments, glancing over at me. "Well, you don't, but trust me. Everyone loves getting their dick sucked by some twink on the downlow, but when it's a teammate sucking dick, suddenly that's a big deal."

He must have seen the concerned look on my face, because he started to panic again. "Not that I'd be sucking dick in your body," he added, wringing his hands. "I wouldn't be any having sex in your body if you're not cool with it, that's disrespectful. I'd just spend the evenings in my room, playing video games. Promise. And I... if you want, I could also take your body to the gym, build up some muscle for you?" He looked truly desperate, and I had to admit I was starting to feel bad for the guy. The two of us, sitting here like this... it reminded me of all of the good times we used to have.

"Alright, I accept," I said, letting out a deep sign. I wanted to stay angry, but seeing him in front of me, begging this hard... I didn't have it in me to reject him to his face. He reached out to shake my hand, but I stopped short. "I'm restating the terms. No sex or alcohol in my body, but I can have sex and alcohol in your body. You're cool with it, but I'm not. And no limits to how many parties I can attend in your body-- you can only deny me a body swap if you've got a family thing planned. Break either of those terms, and you're dead to me."

"Scout's honor," he said, offering his hand again. I shook his hand, and he wrapped me in a quick bro hug just like old times. "You wanna swap right now? Mike's throwing a party later tonight, and I promised I'd be there. Maybe later we can catch up, play some League or something, but I figured for your first party, you'd want time to prepare." I couldn't help but laugh. Even after all this time, he knows me so well.

And that's how I found myself standing in the middle of Dale's room, checking out his body in the mirror and sporting a half-chub at how good I looked. I should probably be happy to have one of my childhood friends back, but... to be honest, I was mostly just daydreaming about all of the sex I was going to have in his body this summer. I've seen his Instagram selfies, I'm fully aware of what I'm getting out of this trade. I'm not about to let any of that time go to waste.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Dale, why did you swap with him? That body looks like ass." My boyfriend had invited me over to his place like always, but I had kept most of my afternoon a secret. I warned Jeff that I was probably going to be wearing my neighbor's body for most of the summer, and that was all that I told him in advance. "You told me this was a good surprise. Nothing about your neighbor's body is good."

I just rolled my eyes at him. I loved him, but Jeff could be so shallow sometimes. Here I was trying to give him sexy fun times, but he couldn't get past my borrowed face. "Look, not every guy can be as hot as I am, alright? It's still me inside of here. And don't forget that I wouldn't have to resort to lending my body out to my lame-ass neighbor if someone could take a cock up the butt without screaming his head off. Besides, you haven't seen what I'm packing." I dropped my boxers to the floor and kicked them aside, letting my new nine-inch coke can do the talking. He was struck speechless, and I took advantage of that rare moment to lay seductively across his bed. "I trust this body has your approval now?"

"Holy shit, yes!" Jeff climbed onto the bed next to me without taking his eyes off of my erection. "This dork is packing all of that?" he asked, practically drooling at the sight of it.

I gave it a few tugs, letting some precum build up at the tip. "I told you it was a good surprise. I've known he was packing a big one ever since we were in Middle School, but I never thought I would get a chance to enjoy it like this. Anyway-- I had to pretend that I wouldn't be having sex in his body, so I can't really do anything other than top."

"Fine by me," Jeff said, pulling lube out of the drawer in his nightstand. "I'll go back to being verse when you're back in your own body. If I've only got the summer months to enjoy this massive cock, I'm not about to let any of that time go to waste."

[cyclistsfit]

[gayrubber791019]

slowly but surely the coach started to incorporate small amounts of rubber into the suits of the athletes. together with the newly incorporated vr recovery technology, these athletes will soon show the world how powerful rubber can be

[rbrmax]

[gayrubber791019]

Maybe training for the triathlon so close to the lab was a wrong idea. My wetsuit suddenly started to extend over my feet and hands. I also can’t take it off anymore, but that doesn’t worry me as much, it just feels so good. The slight pressure, the smooth surface. It’s almost… not it does feel better than skin. Why would I wear anything else? It’s making me so hard, i can barely think. But why would I?

Maybe i should take my friend swimming next time, he will simply love this feeling as well. Maybe I’ll take a snorkling mask with me. Or actually go into the laboratory, maybe I can find the source and keep feeling this good.

[speedoandtightlover]

[gayrubber791019]

Chris was a normal guy, well normal might not be correct. Chris was a researcher focused on nanotechnology, specifically nanotech textiles. He really wanted to create a fabric that could help people with muscle diseases, using the fabric to push the muscles into a higher state.

One day, he made a huge discovery. He made the nanites. However as much as he wanted to make them fuse to the material. It didn’t work. After a mindbreaking hard day at the lab he leaves, straight to the gym to get rid of that mind fog and headachte. What he didn’t know was that he didn’t clean his hands enough. The nanites need contact to organic material, so on hands, or skin or on material that sits close to the body. Such as lycra.

Chris didn’t know, but after a single session, the nanites had converted his lycra tights and made contact on his muscles. What he also didn’t know is that the ai in the nanites was made to “improve” humanity.

The next morning Chris woke up perfectly. Fully rested, no muscle aches.

“Keep the tights on”

Chris his internal monologue must have a new voice. He didn’t think anything of it. He walked over to the mirror to look at his perfect body. It always looked like this right? His friends should see how good he looks. They should also feel so nice.

“Optimization at 80%, more coverage required. ”

Oh ofc, Chris could get cold without a lycra shirt.

“Genitals assimilated, nanite production at 100%. Expansion required”

That must be why his balls feel so heavy! And not to talk about his twitching cock.

“Prepare Running Thights of Housemate David. He must also Get Hard, Be Hard, Stay Hard”

Damn Chris had such smart ideas today!! David would obviously love to feel so good! Today was going to be so nice!

[petew21-blog]

Prison visit

Hi, my name is Logan. I come from a quite boring family that includes my dad, my mum and my little brother. Unfortunately our family is now somewhat broken, because my dad decided behind our back to steal some money from the company he was working for. It wasn't a small ammount for all I know, so he was locked up and we all had to got to the trial.

We all had to dress up to represent our family. I hated the moment when the judge sentenced my father for several years in prison. All I could think about was the fact that I was the one, who had to take care of our family now. Which meant that I had to leave the army.

Me and my brother skipped the first few visits, because mom said that dad had to get used to being in prison and he didn't want to be seen in a bad mood. But the first visit was quite nice. Maybe except for the attack. Some prisoner bumbed into momand they both fell on the ground. It must have been a mental patient, because he started crying and screaming, that his body was stolen. Creepy, right?

Mum must have been shocked. She even missed a few turns when we were coming home from prison. I left her to relax and cooked dinner for us. When I went up to get her, the door to her bedroom were wide open and I couldn't believe what I saw.

Mom stood in front of the mirror, naked and fingered herself. Screaming in pleasure.

She turned her head slightly and smiled. I immediately left, hoping she didn't notice me.

I got my brother and told him that mom was too tired to join us.

The following days were really strange. Mom was walking around the house only in her bra and panties. I didn't wanna look, because it's my mom but ut was unavoidable.

One night, I think I heard male and even another strange female voices coming from my parents bedroom.

I eventually had to start taking care of my brother, because she didn't seem concerned, that he didn't have any food to eat etc.

I woke up in the morning to a weird feeling on my body. I opened my eyes and froze. My mom sat on my bed, my chest and boxers were uncovered and she had her hand on my stomach.

I couldn't let out a word, what was happening?!

Mom:"I have such a handsome young son. You really take care of your body, don't you? My son a soldier. How PROUD I am."

Me:"Mom, what are you..."

Mom:"Ah, don't you worry. I am just taking care of my LITTLE boy. But looking at the bulge you're packing, it seems you're not so little. Haha"

Me:"Mom... Stop it."

Mom:"Oh, come on. Don't you tell me you don't like these perfect tits. That you never wanted to touch them. And this pussy. God, you're really gonna enjoy this. And I can't wait to enjoy that dick" she said as she squeezed her tits and touched herself over the pants she was wearing.

As she finished, she quickly sat on top of me, I still couldn't react. She then pressed something against my chest, which hurt real bad. I passed out.

I opened my eyes and realised I sat on top of someone. "What the fuck?" I saw my own face smiling at me, My old hands were now placed on my hips. And I felt something below me... hardening

My body:"So, how do you like those tits... MOM?"

Me:"What the hell?!? What did you do?"

My body:"I gave you a gift. You can enjoy those tits and that tight wet pussy you like to peek on. You dirty WHORE. And unless you want to be fucked by your own body, I suggest you get off, because I am more then ready to shoot."

I moved and fell on the ground. I look down and indeed. My muscular chest was replaced by a pair of big boobs. My mother's boobs. I am my MOTHER

Me:"Mom, why are you doing this? Why me?"

My body:"Ah, you're so naive. I am not your mom, Logan. Or I should call you Cristine, now. Or better yet, MOM."

He started flexing and laughing at me

My body:"The chicks are gonna love this. I can't wait to fuck someone as a man again. Being a woman sucks."

I still sat there in shock, watching my body posing, flexing and enjoying his new reflection.

Only then I noticed the phone next to the mirror. My body noticed it.

My body:"Oh this? That's for me to have a memory. And also an insurance if you won't behave. I recorded what I did in your mother's body and If you won't behave I won't hesitate to use that as evidence to get you in prison. Unless you want to join your father and mother in prison, I suggest you behave. Now, go cook something, woman. I am hungry and now I got a job to do."

I got up from the floor, looking back at my body, feeling up my body.

I need to get help somehow

Prisoner's P.O.V.

Getting this kid's body is like a gold medal. After many years in my overweight body and then being that woman, this is by far the best thing yet.

I took out his phone to snap a few photos.

This kid has an amazing body. I can't wait to put it to test.

A message came to his phone number from LOVE<3. I browsed through the messaged. Fuck, this kid is gay. Nevermind, gonna turn him straight and dump this fucker. There won't be no more gay shit under my watch.

"Jeez. He's like a sculpture. If I had looked like this before, I wouldn't have to steal from all those people. This is amazing. Let's get this body showered and ready for Stacy."

At Stacy's house

Stacy:"Fuck. I can't believe it worked again. I was worried, that you would stay in that woman's body. I couldn't picture us like that back together."

Prisoner:"Don't worry, my darling. I found myself a great body for you to suck and enjoy. Wait till you see the dick that this kid has. Not only it is big, but the head of the cock is so strange, but hot at the same time."

They started making out. The tongues moving from one mouth into another. But there was a problem, that has never happened before.

Prisoner:"Wait. Something is wrong."

Stacy:"It happens sometimes. Remember that you're in other man's body and you're still not used to it."

Prisoner:"It's not that. This kid is gay. I think I can't get hard for you."

Frustrated and bored, the new Logan rested in the living room of his new body. The "mother" was walking around suspiciously, but careful.

Prisoner:"This is bullshit. I can't be gay forever. I need to find a better body to swap."

The younger brother rushed in with his way too loose Spiderman costume to hug his brother, who now wasn't used to it and pushed him off of himself.

Kyle:"Why did you do that?"

Prisoner:"I don't want another man to touch me."

Kyle:"You're funny, Logan. If you wouldn't have a boyfriend, i would believe you."

Prisoner:"Right."

Kyle:"Ok, so byeee."

Prisoner:"Where are you going dressed like that? It's not Halloween."

Kyle:"To Johnny's. We are having a costume party sleepover, while his older brother is gonna look after us."

Prisoner:"Who is the brother? Do I know him?"

Kyle:"Yeah, you do. You played football together. He's in university."

Prisoner:"Hmm. Interesting." I just hope it's not another gay jock like this one.

Prisoner:"Kyle? I have a cool deal for you. Wanna hear it?"

Kyle:"I bet mom won't know a difference between me and Logan. I can pretend to be him easily without her noticing. But I wonder why would Logan do that. It's nice of him that he gave me his body to try the costume, but he went to that party instead of me. I was looking forward to that."

Kyle pulled up the zip of the costume and started doing Spiderman poses.

Kyle:"Hell, yeah. Wait till the boys see how my costume first better then everybody else's!"

[thesuitaskin]

Unfolded Potential

Leo grinned devilishly as he hit the send button, reaching out to the phone number he'd received just hours earlier.

He had chosen his photo with care—one where his physique was on full display. His expression highlighted his high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders, while the thin fabric of his cycling shorts barely concealed his perfectly defined torso. It was the kind of image designed to provoke envy in any man. Adding the question, "Want the physique?" to the selfie wasn't just a playful taunt; it was a calculated move to reignite an old connection.

Leo eagerly awaited an instant response, but his attention was quickly diverted to his girl, basking in the warm glow of the sunset as she relaxed on the deckchair. The soft, natural light highlighted each curve of her body, making her appear almost ethereal.

"Hey Leo, I can't imagine anything needing more attention than me? Right?" she whispered to get Leo's full attention as she playfully removed her underwear.

Leo looked down at her and was ready to conquer her hole again.

"So you're hungry for another round? Guess it's not every day you get your fill of a real man"

"You are right, Leo. Come here, now!" she smiled.

Leo flashed a smug grin at her, fully aware that this was going to be her best evening yet.

————

I was definitely a troublemaker back in school. I didn’t care about the teachers, I called out the spoiled kids, hung out with the outcasts, and always had a snarky comment ready. I strutted around like I owned the place. To some of my classmates and a few teachers, I came off as a bully. Honestly, I didn’t care. I had friends who weren’t as weird as the others, and I had a blast—well, aside from my grades, but who cared about that?

The people who annoyed me learned to stay out of my way, and those I respected were my friends. By middle school, I thought my life was perfect. It felt like my crew and I ruled the school. Our confidence was through the roof, and so was my outspoken attitude. But the way I treated the nerds? That was a bit too much, even for my friends. One by one, they started distancing themselves from me. Meanwhile, my grades kept slipping, which became the highlight of the nerds' day—they practically counted down the days until I’d get kicked out. Sure, I made sure to put them in their place—shoving them into lockers or tossing them into toilets, and worse. I knew they’d laugh about me behind my back, so I made sure to remind them of their place.

So while everyone else seemed to grow into themselves, I felt like the universe had it out for me. I was already the "bad guy" in everyone’s eyes, and puberty only made things worse. Instead of becoming more intimidating or growing into the person I thought I should be, I started to look awkward. My body didn’t fill out the way I expected—no muscles, no growth spurt. I was still stuck with this scraggly frame and a face that looked like it hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of me. My once dominating presence faded as I grew out of my early teenage years, and I felt weaker, less confident, like my aura of power was slipping away.

Then there was Leo. The kid I used to mock and push around—he was the one who came out of puberty on top. While I felt trapped in a body that wasn’t mine, Leo shed his old nerdy traits like a snake shedding its skin. He lost his chubbiness, grew taller, and suddenly had this sleek, effortless charisma that made everyone—students and teachers alike—notice him. He was the "boy next door" type now—polite, easygoing, and suddenly so much more... likeable. He was everything I wasn’t.

It felt like the universe had decided to favor him, while I got stuck with the leftovers. I couldn’t understand how it worked out for him—he didn’t even try. His privileged background might’ve helped a little, but the way he seamlessly fit in and earned respect from everyone made my blood boil. I had to fight for every bit of attention I got, bullying my way to the top while he just waltzed into acceptance. And what made it worse? I was fading away, and Leo? He was thriving, without even trying. It was infuriating to watch someone I’d once looked down on, someone I had tormented, surpass me in every way.

Then came the moment when I could no longer contain all my hatred. I was kicked out of school, just a few months before starting high school. I was pissed off. That weasel Leo Kingsley and his shitty, rich dad pulled out all the stops to finally get rid of me. I mean, it wasn't my fault Leo got my fist when he dared to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone. Sure, I may have taken it too far - hell, even the paramedics showed up - but that weakling should have been more of a man if he was going to call me out like that.

All those pathetic nerds suddenly found their voice. They went straight to the cops and Mr. Kingsley’s lawyer, reporting everything I’d allegedly done to them. And just like that, I was sentenced to a juvenile detention center. I honestly thought it was the end of the road for me. My life felt like it had just come crashing down. But just when I thought there was no way out, fate decided to flip the script.

Inside detention, there was this creepy little weirdo named Davis—he was clearly off his rocker. He’d always had this unsettling vibe about him. Naturally, I made fun of him, tried to put him in his place. I wasn’t going to let some freak make me look weak, not in front of the other inmates. And it worked, at least for a while. I earned their sympathy, even if it was more out of pity than respect. But instead of backing off, Davis only got weirder.

One day, he started threatening to curse me with his “dark magic.” I mean, what a joke, right? It was laughable. But Davis kept pushing it, getting more and more bizarre. A few days later, he said he was going to possess my body—to show me what it felt like to be weak. I couldn’t help but laugh. Who takes that seriously? It was a welcome distraction from the hell I was living in. At least it gave me something to mock while I was stuck in that place.

It must've been around my fourth month in detention when I started feeling off. All day, I felt like I was coming down with something—nauseous, weak. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That night, I was drenched in sweat, tossing and turning in my bed. The dreams I had were unlike anything I’d ever experienced—strange, unsettling, like they weren’t even dreams. They felt real. I couldn’t tell if I was awake or still trapped in some kind of nightmare.

When I finally opened my eyes, everything felt... wrong. I wasn’t in my cell anymore. I wasn’t at the detention center at all. I was somewhere else—somewhere completely unfamiliar. I wasn’t even in my own room at home, though it looked like a room that belonged to someone my age. It was neat, almost sterile—nothing like the mess I was used to. My heart raced. What the hell was going on? This couldn’t be real. I had to be dreaming, right?

I shot up from the bed, my mind racing, trying to shake off the grogginess. My head spun, and when I looked down, everything felt... off. My body felt lighter, different—leaner. Panic hit me like a freight train as I staggered around the unfamiliar house, my heart pounding. I found a bathroom at the end of the hall. When I looked into the mirror, I froze. The face staring back at me wasn’t mine. It was Leo Kingsley’s.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes. No way. This was some kind of twisted joke, right? Freaky Friday shit. How the hell did I end up in his body? Leo, of all people? I couldn’t process it—couldn’t wrap my head around how this was even possible. I wasn’t dreaming. This was real. My worst nightmare had come true—I was trapped in the body of Leo Kingsley.

And somehow, I wasn’t even as angry as I should’ve been. Getting out of detention was a definite perk, but... this? This was a nightmare.

I stared at myself in the mirror, my anger bubbling up as I took in the changes. Leo’s new height, his face, his stupid, perfect features. How the hell did he get so lucky? The guy was a walking poster for everything I hated—his looks, his smooth skin, his deep voice—nothing about him made sense. But there was one thing that made it all hit me like a slap: underneath it all, he was still a nerd.

He was skinny, with zero muscle. His clothes were lame. His posture screamed “outsider,” and I could see the familiar crowd of nerds lingering in the background. I was stuck in the body of a weakling, a guy who had everything and nothing at the same time.

————

Three years later, high school saw a very different Leo Kingsley. I won’t lie, the first few weeks were a blur. I had no clue what I was doing. People—his friends, his classmates—would approach me, the new "Leo," with genuine concern, asking if everything was alright. More times than I could count, I heard, “Are you sure you're okay?” It didn’t take long for me to realize that I couldn’t exactly explain myself, and the last thing I wanted was to draw attention. So, I kept a low profile, played along, and became the version of Leo everyone already knew—the Leo they could tolerate. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard as I thought. In fact, I found I enjoyed not being the center of attention for once.

As the weeks went on, I learned more about Leo—his daily life, his friends, his quirks. And the more I figured him out, the more I saw that the universe had, in a twisted way, blessed me. Sure, it was uncomfortable at first, seeing Leo’s face in the mirror instead of mine. But with time, I started to appreciate what I had. Leo wasn’t just a nerd; underneath all that awkwardness, there was something solid. He was good-looking in a way I hadn’t noticed before. And hell, if I played my cards right, I could turn this new life into something pretty damn good.

But as much as I started to embrace it, it was still a test of my patience. Every day, I fought the urge to speak my mind—to tell off people who got on my nerves, or to handle things the way I would have. I wanted to flip the script, take control, but I couldn’t afford to blow my cover. At first, I still held on to the belief that one morning, I’d wake up back in my cell. But that day never came. Gradually, I started to accept it. Maybe this was my second chance. Fate had thrown me a curveball, and I wasn’t going to waste it. I wasn’t just going to coast along—I was going to make this life work for me. I slowly began to shape Leo’s life into my own version of things.

As time went on, I grew more confident in my new skin and I decided to let more of my own personality flow into Leo's life.

Back in the day, I couldn’t care less about sports. But now, with Leo’s body, I saw potential—untapped, waiting to be unlocked. Leo, at first glance, was still a skinny shrimp, but his frame had so much more to offer than I’d expected. So, joining the football team seemed ridiculous. But swimming? That was a different story. The swim team wasn’t exactly thrilled about a well-known nerd like me wanting to join, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me. I pushed myself, showed them how Leo’s body could be an asset if used right. Soon, they stopped seeing me as just some nerd and started respecting me as a competitor. And finally, I could surround myself with people who weren’t obsessed with stupid nerd stuff like Dungeons & Dragons. That crap had gotten on my nerves back then.

I quickly realized that, somehow, I’d inherited Leo’s intelligence too. It was like a switch had flipped. If I actually focused, understanding certain subjects became so much easier. It was a whole new experience, one that pushed me to excel. For the first time in my life, I actually cared about my grades. It was like having a cheat code for school, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

But the real game-changer? Leo’s family. That was something I never could’ve imagined in my old life. His father treated me like royalty—spoiling me in ways I never thought were possible. Back then, I could never have dreamed of the vacations, the privileges, the sheer freedom that came with wealth. Leo’s dad wasn’t just rich—he was invested in me. He fully embraced my transformation. He encouraged me to ditch the nerdy hobbies I’d once found irritating and pushed me into sports, even more into making money. Every idea I had was met with enthusiastic support, like I was living out his dream of having a “real man” as a son.

When I wasn’t at school, I was either training, partying, or diving headfirst into the world of investments using his money. But the best part? Traveling. Leo’s dad practically threw the world at my feet. I was living a life that, back in my old body, I could never have even dreamed of. Whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted to go—it was within my reach. I had everything.

Like I already mentioned, Leo had the right genes, but the mindset of a weakling. With me in control, though, he—I—finally unlocked my full potential. This guy's family was loaded, and his parents had given him the kind of genetic advantages I could only dream of back in my old life. From here on out, Leo was going to take everything he wanted—everything he deserved.

Beyond just blowing money on entertainment, I put in hours working to transform Leo into the version of myself I’d always been denied. It wasn’t just about the muscles or the athletic skills—it was about shaping Leo into someone who could take whatever he wanted, without hesitation. I didn’t have to play by anyone’s rules anymore. I was rewriting them.

And damn, did the new me look the part. The mirror wasn’t lying—this life was perfect. I had the looks, the confidence, and the power. Everything about me fit my new lifestyle like it was meant to be.

It took time to reconnect with the people who truly ruled the school—the ones who could make or break your reputation with a single word. But once they saw the change in me, the style, the confidence, they couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t long before I found myself back in their circle, seamlessly fitting in. I’d adapted, molded myself to fit their world, and they embraced it. I wasn’t just Leo anymore; I was someone they could respect, someone who was willing to do whatever it took to stay on top.

The real transformation, though, came when I decided to cut ties with Leo’s old friends. They didn’t fit the new version of me. Sure, they had been a part of my past, but they were stuck in their little world of Dungeons & Dragons, video games, and all the nerdy shit that had always bored me. It wasn’t like I suddenly hated them—but I couldn’t be tied down by their expectations anymore.

When I walked away—it felt like I was rejecting everything I had pretended to be. Leo’s old friends had known me as that quiet, humble kid—the one who didn’t quite fit in, who went along with whatever just to avoid trouble. But now, everything about me had changed. I wasn’t pretending anymore. I had transformed into someone else, someone they couldn’t recognize.

They were disgusted by it. They didn’t get how Leo could suddenly abandon them, how Leo could become the person he once looked down on—the arrogant, entitled guy who manipulated situations to his advantage. To them, it felt like a betrayal. They cursed me, called me a “traitor” and said Leo had turned into the very thing he used to despise. Their words probably would’ve made the old Leo feel guilty, but I couldn’t care less. The person I had pretended to be, the one who followed the rules and played nice, was gone. I had shed that version of myself for good. They couldn’t handle the new me. The old Leo, the weak, quiet kid, was gone. In his place was someone who knew the world wasn't for the weak.

I had completely flipped Leo’s life 180 degrees, and honestly, it was kind of hilarious. I kept imagining what I would’ve thought if I had seen the old Leo hanging out with my friends—partying, hooking up with girls, acting like the king of high school. I would’ve lost my mind. Just thinking about it—comparing the old me to the guy I was now—it stirred something inside me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was it depressing to see how far I’d come, or was it something I should actually be proud of?

When I got into college on a sports scholarship, things only got better. With nothing holding me back anymore, I fully embraced the role of the golden boy. I was handsome, confident, smart—everything I used to wish I could be. And more importantly, I was untouchable. I had this power now. A few of my high school friends ended up at the same college, so it didn’t take long for us to become the campus wolf pack. That just solidified it. I wasn’t just one of the guys anymore—I was the guy. The one everyone wanted to know and no one dared to mess with.

I can’t emphasize enough how much power and wealth shape the way you think and act. It’s like they completely rewire you. And then, being a handsome motherfucker? That was just the cherry on top. There was one moment when it hit me—I had fully stepped into my new life. It was at this wild frat party, the kind where anything goes. I was fucking two girls at the same time, and they were both screaming my name: Leo.

In that moment, I wasn’t mad about being called by the name of the former nerd. I knew no one would dare say anything against Leo fucking Kingsley. If they did, I’d destroy them—or my family’s lawyers would. It was almost comical to see the messages from Leo's old friends, telling me how disappointed they were in what I’d become. But honestly, I hadn’t changed at all. I was just in a different body—one that suited my attitude much better.

Those messages didn’t bother me. They were just entertainment, a reminder of who I used to be, but they did spark something deeper inside me—something I’d buried for a long time. What had happened to the real Leo? What had happened to my old self?

I decided to start digging. I asked my father if he or his lawyer had ever heard anything about the bully who’d assaulted me back in middle school, the one who’d ended up in juvenile detention. To my surprise, my father knew a little more than I expected. He told me he didn’t want to bother me with it back then, especially since he saw how much I’d grown and was enjoying my life. He mentioned that his lawyer had informed him my old bully had been admitted to a psychiatric facility after attacking another inmate. He didn’t get into the details, but it piqued my curiosity.

Top keep it low and avoid unwanted questions, I secretly hired a private investigator to dig deeper into what happened to my old self. I needed answers—what had happened to the original Leo? And what happened to that weirdo, Davis, who’d threatened to possess me? The investigator gave me some limited details, but when I put it all together with what I already suspected, things started to make sense. Davis had been obsessed with dark magic, but he must’ve screwed something up. Somehow, Leo got pulled into the mess. I figured Davis had somehow triggered a massive body swap, and that he probably ended up in my original body, thinking I was in his. That would explain everything—why he attacked his original body.

The more I pieced together, the clearer it became. Leo had ended up in Davis’s body. This conclusion came from the investigator’s findings—Leo, now in Davis’s form, had actually tried to contact my father, claiming to be his son. But my father didn’t give him a chance to explain.

All of that just felt too good to be true. So this fucker Leo really was there after all. That's when I decided to make it just worse for him.

————

The investigator managed to dig up Davis's old mobile number, so it felt like pure satisfaction to send him a provocative image of his old body—only, much improved. I couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of gratitude toward Leo. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve never gotten the body—or the life—that was truly meant for me.

I pulled my cock out of her pussy and couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of pride at the moaning noises I had caused. Seeing my reflection in the darkened window striking a double bicep pose was pure pleasure. I had everything I’d always wanted—the life, the body, the respect, the possibilities. It was what I deserved all along. Well, better late than never.

I decided to check if the old Leo had responded to my little provocation. Damn, nothing yet. I smirked. Guess I’d have to send him another one. It’d be a shame not to let him see what he’d been missing all this time.