Karim كريم

[misctf]

Cocky straight guy becomes a twink trophy boyfriend

He spots her across the living room before anyone else really registers she’s arrived. New face, effortless confidence—his kind of challenge. He takes a second, smooths his shirt, then crosses the room like he already knows how this ends.

“Hey,” he says, easy smile, leaning just enough to feel close without crowding. “You look like you’re deciding whether this party’s worth staying at.”

She glances at him, amused but unreadable.

“I was,” she says. “Still am.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Give me five minutes. I’ll make it worth it.”

She tilts her head. “You always open like that?”

“Only when I’m right.”

“Confident.”

“Usually rewarded for it.”

“Usually,” she echoes.

He grins, holding eye contact. “Stick around. You’ll see.”

She doesn’t answer. Just watches him, an amused smirk forming on her face. Jake returns the smirk- god she was hot. He couldn't wait to make her...

“Not my type.”

That actually lands. Jake blinks, thrown off, but only for a second. His smile returns quick, “Alright, maybe I started off wrong. Name’s Jake.”

“Lena.”

“So what is your type?”

Her eyes travel over him, slower this time. “Bulky guys aren’t really my thing.”

Jake scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “How can you not be into muscles?”

He flexes his arm, showing off muscle that no woman could resist. Only the peak isn’t as full, the sleeve of his shirt hanging just a bit looser than it did a minute ago. He catches it, but maintains the smile. Figures the lighting is off.

She looks at him, unimpressed, “I said what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer. “I’m more than just muscle, you know.”

“Mhmm... Doubt that.”

"Yeah?” he smirks, "Give me a chance and I'll prove you wrong." He readjusts his shirt, barely registering how it no longer clings tightly to his chest.

“I'm good." She shrugs, "All that body hair isn't winning you any prizes with me."

Jake huffs a laugh. “What? C’mon! That’s what makes me a real man.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he says, glancing down as he casually drags his thumb along his forearm- then pauses.

The dark hair there looks… lighter. Thinner. He rubs again against increasingly smoother skin.

“That's... that doesn't make sense.” he mutters, forcing a grin, though his fingers linger.

His other hand comes up, brushing his jaw. He paused. His usual rough stubble is... gone. Like he just shaved. His confidence flickers and he feels a cold shiver run through him as his chest prickles under his shirt.

Jake straightens abruptly. “Woah that's not...” Lena is smiling, a predatory look in her eye, "I... wait here, I'll be right back" He chuckles, nervously- mind racing. He needed a mirror. Just to check. To confirm.

He takes a half step back. Lena leans in just slightly, smiling.

“No, stay,” Her voice lifts. “I’m enjoying our little conversation.” She runs a hand along his smooth jaw, "Please." Jake feels his heart flutter, "Just relax, tough guy."

Jake grunts as the tension drains out of him. He should be on edge. He was on edge. But he feels his posture soften, weight shifting onto one leg, hips angling slightly without permission. His stance opens up. Less guarded, more… inviting.

“Wh-what?”

His lower back arches subtly as he shifts. His stance now blatantly emphasizing his ass. Jake stiffens at that, registering just how exactly he looked standing there.

“No way...” he mutters, trying and failing to address his stance, "I look so..."

He tries to square himself again. To stand with the same commanding presence he usually did. But the adjustment slips, settling back into that same relaxed pose. His ass jutting out, begging for attention.

“You did ask me what my type was." Jake's eyes widen as he realizes he's standing at eye level with Lena now, "But it's so much more than the physical. I like guys who know how to be vulnerable."

Jake swallows, “I mean... yeah, I can be vulnerable,” he says, but it comes out softer, less certain. His shoulders pull in as he talks, frame narrowing further, “It’s just, like... I don’t usually say this stuff out loud, I just kinda… push it down, you know? Be a man about it...” He freezes, “Why am I saying this?” His voice jumps... higher. Whinier.

Lena smiles, "It's okay to open up, Jake."

Jake’s hand flies to his throat. “Okay, no... like why does my voice sound like this? This's not... like, not my voice.” It spikes again, edging toward a whine.

"Jake?" He recognizes that voice, "Dude, what the fuck?"

“Brett!” Jake blurts, cringing at the pitch of his voice, but relief floods in anyway. “Oh my god... thank god you noticed! Something’s like… totally wrong!”

Brett steps in close, brow furrowed. “What happened to you, man?”

“I don’t know!” Jake says quickly, voice light and uneven. “She just, like... started saying stuff and now I’m...”

A sharp snap. Brett goes still. His expression melts, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack. Drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Jake stares, “What? Brett?”

He grabs Brett’s arm instinctively and pauses. His fingers press into Brett’s bicep, lingering a second too long. There’s a flicker of something... appreciation?

Jake jerks his hand back and spins towards Lena, “Like, what did you do to him?!”

Lena barely glances at Brett. “Don’t worry about him,” she says smoothly. “Focus on something more fun. Like gossip… or cute guys.”

Jake tries to hold onto his panic, but her voice threads through it, steady and impossible to ignore. His thoughts begin to blur at the edges, like something is quietly wiping them clean, and before he can latch onto what he’s losing, new ones slip in—lighter, easier, strangely compelling. He finds himself wondering who’s attractive, who gets attention, who deserves it.

Behind him, Lena leans toward Brett, whispering into his ear. Jake turns without meaning to... and this time, he really looks. The line of Brett’s arms, the way his shirt fits across his chest, the way his slacked jaw and dim eyes look.

“Oh wow.” Jake’s breath slows and he licks his lips.

He'd seen Brett in the locker room after games. Knew what he was packing. He never thought much about that. But now? God... he wanted it now. He wanted Brett.

“Now you’re more my type,” Lena looks over Jake carefully, satisfied. “But I doubt I’m yours.”

Jake blinks, still looking at Brett, something warm and fluttery settling in his chest. He lets out a soft, airy laugh, barely even thinking about it.

“Yeah, I mean… like… no offense, but… yeah.” He winces slightly at how natural that felt.

Lena smiles. “So tell me... what is your type?”

Jake doesn’t hesitate this time. He glances back at Brett, eyes lingering, a small, giddy smile slipping through. “I mean… Brett,” he says, almost giggling. “Obviously.”

"He's kinda cute."

“Kinda? Bitch, he's hot." Jake can't believe the words leaving his mouth, but they don't stop, "So like... we're..."

"Besties." Lena grins, "I needed a new gay bestie anyway." She looks over at Brett and snaps her fingers, "And what are besties for?"

Brett's face contorts and settles. The dull look in his eyes shifting as he looks over Jake. Replaced by something hungrier. Jake watches as Brett steps closer, slow, deliberate. His eyes stay locked on Jake.

“Hey,” he says quietly, voice lower than Jake remembers. “You look… different.”

Jake giggles, “Different good, right?”

Brett’s hand comes up, hesitating just a second before brushing along Jake’s waist. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Really good.”

Jake inhales sharply, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans, eyes flicking up through his lashes.

“Wow, okay…” he says, half-giggling. “You’re, like, being really forward right now.”

Brett smirks faintly, closing the space between them. “You don’t seem to mind.”

Jake bites his lip, heat rushing to his face. “I mean… I don't.”

“My room’s just upstairs,” Brett murmurs, leaning in slightly. “You wanna check it out?”

Jake lets out a soft, breathy laugh, glancing back at Lena for half a second before looking up at Brett again. “I mean… yeah,” he says, voice light and a little giddy, fingers brushing Brett’s arm. “Lead the way.”

Lena watches for a beat, satisfied, “Have fun, you two!”

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

Jake moans loudly as Brett slams into him from behind. He arches his back, pushing his fat ass further along Brett's length. His own cock, smaller than he remembered it being, throbbing uselessly. But he doesn't care. Not when he can feel Brett balls deep inside him.

"Fuck yes," Jake gasps out, hands fisting in the sheets beneath him. "Harder, Brett. Fuck me harder." Brett grunts, gripping Jake's hips as he picks up the pace, "Oh fuck!"

Jake couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy each time Brett bottomed out. The same kinda sounds he imagined Lena making if the night had gone differently. But now? His world was narrowing, focused only on the feeling of the dick pounding into his thicc, juicy ass. Because for Jake, nothing else mattered in this moment - not his pride, not his former identity. And it never would again.

[hairy-bothered]

Match Fit

By three in the afternoon, downtown Atlanta had turned into a moving cornucopia of flags. Mexico green in the crosswalks. Portugal red under the MARTA signs. Croatia checker boards rippling beside Switzerland scarlet. All swirling around the ubiquitous red white and blue of America.

Every bar patio had spilled onto the sidewalk, every giant screen showed pregame coverage, and every third person seemed to be arguing about lineups - like they knew anything about soccer or they were assistant managers with headsets in another life.

Ben, Tom, Jose, and David were already late to the FIFA Fan Fest. Not dangerously late. Not kickoff late. But late enough that the good standing spots near the big screen in the shade would be gone, late enough that the food trucks would have lines, late enough that four men who had once played together every Sunday morning for 15 years were already blaming each other like it was stoppage time.

“You said there’d be jerseys at the venue,” Tom said.

“I said there might be jerseys,” Jose answered.

David walked carefully, one hand near his lower back, his Portugal scarf hanging around his neck in the oppressive Atlanta summer. “You all had six months to buy these online.”

Ben looked down at his plain charcoal T-shirt stretched by his middle-aged dad-bod belly and frowned. “I wanted to try one on. I don’t trust sizing anymore.”

None of them laughed too hard at that. They were all old enough to understand.

Twenty years earlier, they had been the guys who stayed on the field for one more game, even when the sky went dark and the ball became a blur. Ben had been the wall at the back. Tom had been tidy and clever, never the fastest but always two passes ahead. Jose had played like the ball owed him obedience. David had been broad, mustached, impossible to move, and impossible to shut up.

Now Ben was bald and heavy through the middle. Tom’s blond hair had started retreating at both temples. Jose still looked the youngest, though he had begun noticing softness under his jaw in photos. David, the oldest at fifty, carried his old back injury like an extra piece of unwanted equipment.

But the World Cup had pulled something out of them. It always did. It gave them an excuse to hang out and to enjoy each other's company. An excuse to forget about their mortgages, their jobs, their expanding mid-sections and their nagging kids - if even for just a few weeks every four years. They needed jerseys. Not generic jerseys - their favorite players' jerseys. Ben wanted Croatia, Gvardiol across the back. Tom wanted Switzerland, Cömert. Jose wanted Mexico, Jiménez. David wanted Portugal, Neto.

The official booths lining Peacthree Street on the way to Fan Fest had nothing in their sizes. One vendor had kids’ shirts. Another had knockoffs with the names spelled wrong. A third tried to sell David a Ronaldo jersey and seemed personally offended when David said, “No, Neto.”

That was when Tom spotted the sign. Not a normal store sign. More like a temporary event placard tucked under a black awning between two downtown buildings:

MATCH FIT — PLAYER SHIRTS CUSTOMIZED ON YOU WHILE YOU WAIT

Below it, in smaller print:

TRY BEFORE YOU LEAVE. NO RETURNS AFTER KICKOFF.

“Customized on you while you wait,” Tom said. “That’s all we need.”

The place looked temporary, like it had been assembled that morning and might vanish by midnight. Inside were racks of national jerseys arranged by country, a counter with a heat press, and a hallway of six small fitting rooms made of black curtains and white partition walls.

No one stood at the counter. Instead, a tablet lit up when they approached.

SELECT PLAYER. SELECT FIT. ENTER BOOTH.

Jose grinned. “Atlanta has everything now - it is the Capital of the South, after all.” The rest of the men just rolled their eyes and grimaced at the Chamber of Commerce speech from Jose.

Ben tapped Croatia. Tom tapped Switzerland. Jose tapped Mexico. David tapped Portugal.

The tablet printed four receipts, each one with a booth number and a name already filled in.

BEN — GVARDIOL

TOM — CÖMERT

JOSE — JIMÉNEZ

DAVID — NETO

The tablet lit up again.

DON'T FORGET TO GRAB YOUR TEAM'S JERSEY FROM THE BIN - NAME CUSTOMIZATION WILL OCCUR AFTER YOU TRANSFORM.

“Creepy,” Tom said. "How did it know which players we wanted? And what does it mean by transform?"

“Who knows. At least it's efficient. It's probably some nerdy sports RP crap to build an experience.” Jose said. "We're running late, guys! Just grab your jersey and let's go!"

David took the Portugal shirt from the rack and held it against his stomach. “As long as they don't charge airport prices...”

They split into separate changing rooms. Ben pulled his curtain shut first.

The Croatia jersey looked too bright in his hands, almost aggressive under the fitting-room light. The standard red and white checker-board pattern. Clean seams. A shirt made for someone who expected contact, not someone who got winded carrying groceries upstairs.

Ben looked at himself in the mirror. Bald head. Light scruff. Heavy belly. The kind of body people called “solid” when they were being kind.

He lifted the jersey. "There's no way this is going to fit..." he thought to himself. Then for one strange second, the fabric seemed to pull toward him. He paused a moment then he put it on.

The first thing that changed was the fit. The shirt had been tight over his stomach, then less tight, then suddenly it sat against him as if the body underneath were being adjusted to meet it. His belly drew inward slowly. Not vanishing at once, but tightening, compressing, reshaping. His shoulders lifted and widened. His neck looked stronger.

Ben grabbed the edge of the bench. A dark prickle spread across his scalp. “No way,” he whispered.

Hair pushed through skin that had been smooth for years. At first it was only shadow, then short dark growth, then thick curls forming unevenly, damp-looking and messy. His scruff darkened along his jaw, gathering into a fuller beard. His face, still barely his face, began to pull into a new structure. The roundness tightened. The jaw sharpened. His nose and brow shifted by small degrees, enough that every breath made him look less like Ben and more like the man printed on the mental image he had carried into the booth.

His arms hardened inside the sleeves. His chest lifted. His posture changed without permission. By the time the transformation settled, Ben stood taller, younger, powerful in a way that felt quiet and dangerous. He touched the beard, then the curls, then the Croatia crest. He had become the spitting image of Joško Gvardiol.

"Whoa..." was all the came out of Ben's mouth.

On the other side of the wall, Tom made a sound that was not quite a laugh. Tom had expected the Swiss jersey to make him look respectable. He did not expect it to make him feel measured. That was the sensation: as if the red shirt had taken inventory and found him lacking in very specific places.

His blond hair with its thinning edges remained blond at first. His average middle-aged body remained average. He exhaled in relief, almost disappointed. Then the shirt tightened at his shoulders.

His torso firmed beneath it. The small softness at his waist retreated. His chest broadened. His arms gained definition like a photograph coming into focus. Tom stared down as the jersey changed from something he was wearing into something that belonged on him.

His face followed more slowly. His cheeks hollowed slightly. His jaw grew cleaner. Blond hair darkened at the roots and filled in at the temples, strand by strand, losing its faded middle-aged color until it became thick and dark. Stubble gathered across his cheeks and chin, first rough, then fuller, shaping itself into a dark beard.

His heart began to race as his body continued to shift. “Calm down,” he said, but the words came out in a voice that was already less familiar with a Swiss-German accent.

His eyes looked more intense. His brow strengthened. His features kept some trace of Tom for another few seconds, enough that he could recognize himself being overwritten. That was worse than disappearing all at once - he was being absorbed, enveloped, rewritten by the jersey.

After a few more seconds, he looked unrecognizable: younger, fitter, sharper, the Swiss red jersey lying smooth over a body that had no memory of stiff mornings.

Then curiosity beat fear. Tom lifted the hem of the shirt. His stomach was flat, then defined, then cut with muscle he had not seen since...well never. He stared at his abs, mouth open. The surprise on his face was pure, almost innocent as he finished his transformation into Eray Cömert.

From the next booth, Jose said, “Tom? You alive over there? Does the jersey not fit?”

Tom did not look away from his stomach. “I’m reviewing new information. Please hold...”

Jose laughed, "What is that accent, bud?" but his laugh caught halfway through. The Mexico jersey had felt warm when he pulled it on, as if it had been sitting in sunlight. Green fabric slid over his shoulders, and for a moment he simply admired it. Jose had always liked the way Mexico green looked on him. It made him feel connected to something bigger than himself: family, noise, food, history, every summer cookout where someone had screamed "GOOOOOL" at a television.

The first change made him smile. His shoulders squared. His chest tightened. His stomach flattened. Not dramatically, not yet, but enough that he stood straighter.

Then his face began to shift. Jose leaned forward in disbelief of what he was looking at. He lifted his hands to his jaw. The stubble there thickened, neatened, and spread into a trimmed dark beard. His cheekbones sharpened beneath his fingertips. His mouth shifted. His nose, brow, and eyes moved by subtle degrees toward a face he knew from match highlights. Then he saw the infamous scar from a head injury and surgery sketch across his head.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, that’s different.”

His hair styled itself shorter and cleaner, as if wind and sweat and stadium lights had shaped it. His average build became athletic, his arms filling the sleeves. He leaned forward even more, inspecting himself in the invisible idea of his reflection, trying to catch the exact second when Jose became someone else.

The strange thing was that he did not panic. Or not only panic. There was fear in it, yes — the impossible closeness of another man’s face forming over his own. But there was also a rush of recognition, like the shirt had found a version of him that he secretly wished for ever since he was a little boy playing pick-up at the neighbor's house down the street.

As the final changes washed over him, Jose stood in Mexico green with a body built for ninety minutes plus stoppage time and a face that now carried Raúl Jiménez’s sharp, calm confidence.

He tested a smirk. It fit too well. “Uh-oh,” he said softly, pleased despite himself.

David’s booth stayed quiet longest - if for no other reason because he had the most difficulty getting the jersey over his big round belly and sagging chest. He had sat down to put the Portugal jersey on because that was how he put on most things now: carefully, with respect for his lower back, with one hand braced and one foot angled just so.

He hated that the others knew this. He hated that they pretended not to. The jersey lay across his lap, red and green, lighter than it looked. David ran his thumb over the crest. His thick mustache twitched with a humorless smile.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s see if I can make this work...”

He pulled it over his head. At first, it hurt. Not pain exactly, but the memory of pain leaving. His back loosened so suddenly that he grabbed both sides of the bench. The tightness he had lived with for years unwound one muscle at a time. His spine straightened. His hips shifted. His shoulders rolled back.

David inhaled sharply. The belly under the Portugal jersey began to shrink. His chest lifted. His arms tightened. The heavy, careful way he carried himself broke apart and reassembled into balance.

Then came his new face. He touched it midway through the change, palm pressed to one cheek, fingers moving over crow’s feet that were softening under his skin. Laugh lines faded. His thick mustache thinned, shortened, and reshaped, darkening as it joined a trimmed beard along his jaw. Salt-and-pepper hair deepened toward black, thickening into tousled curls.

For the first time in years, he stood without calculating the movement first. The realization hit harder than the transformation. He was not bracing. Not protecting. Not negotiating with his body. He was simply standing.

The rest of him followed quickly now: stomach flattening, chest defining, thighs and arms rebuilding into young athletic strength. His face sharpened into the Neto look, youthful and alert, with just enough disbelief left in his eyes to prove David was still inside.

In the final moment, he lifted the Portugal jersey with both hands and looked down. Abs. Not theoretical abs. Not “under there somewhere” abs. Clear, ridiculous, undeniable abs.

David barked a laugh so loud it shook the curtain.

“This better not be temporary!”

The curtains opened one by one. They did not step out like friends leaving fitting rooms. They stepped out like a lineup reveal for an all-star squad.

Ben emerged first in Croatia checkers, dark curls and beard replacing the bald, heavyset man who had gone in. His expression was stunned but controlled, as if the new body had given him a defender’s composure before his brain caught up.

Tom came out next in Swiss red, still glancing down at himself and tugging the shirt like he expected the abs to vanish if he stopped monitoring them.

Jose pushed his curtain aside in Mexico green, smirking like he had just won an argument nobody else knew they were having.

David came last in Portugal red and green, walking easily. That was the thing that silenced them. Not the younger face. Not the body. The walk. No stiffness. No guarded step. No hand hovering near his back.

Ben stared. “Dave...is that you?”

David rolled his shoulders once, then twice. His eyes shone with something too bright to joke away.

“I know,” he said.

The tablet on the counter chimed. A new message appeared.

PLAYER FIT COMPLETE.

Below it:

FAN FEST ENTRY: 0.4 MILES. ARRIVE BEFORE ANTHEMS.

Tom looked at the door. Outside, downtown Atlanta roared. A chant rose from the street, echoing between buildings, as 48 countries layered into one sound.

Jose laughed. “We are going to cause a problem. People will recognize us!”

Ben looked down at the Croatia crest on his chest. “We should probably avoid cameras.”

David was already moving toward the exit. “Absolutely not.”

They stepped back into the heat. The city swallowed them in noise: drums, whistles, flags, traffic, the bass thump from the Fan Fest stage downtown. People turned as they passed. A group in Mexico jerseys stopped mid-chant when Jose/Jiménez walked by. Someone pointed at Ben/Gvardiol. Two Switzerland fans stared at Tom’s/Cömert's shirt, then at his face, then at each other in complete disbelief. David/Neto heard a Portuguese supporter shout something behind him and felt a grin spread across his new face.

For the first block they tried to walk like normal men. By the second block, they were jogging. By the third, they were running. Not because they were late anymore - but because they could again.

[supfag-archives]

ASHTON SUMMERS & DOM KING LIE TO ME (2023)

[transformhim]

And how’s that fit for ya?

Nice, man… very nice..

Yeeaah I figured you’d be happy in a suit like this. Damn, get a feel of those tits. How’d you find a guy like this anyways?

Aahhh, it’s… It’s complicated..

Let me guess… Personal trainer neighbor? You were sold when you watched him mow the grass?

Worse…

Ooh, one-night-stand? Couldn’t get rid of the memory of worshiping this huge bod all night?

Worse…

No… family?

… Brother..

Noooo shit, dude... Hah! I was gonna say, you two bear a striking resemblance.

From another mother... but, yeah..

Can’t blame you, bro! Not with guns like this..

Mmppff… fuck, these feel insane. No wonder he’s always flexing in the mirror.

Yeeaah, man… get a whiff of ya too.. woof!

Ha! Stooop, dude… I’m getting hard!.. feels.. huh, feels weird…

Oh! Let me help you there… annnd..

AA-OOoooooohh, fuck!

Yeah, man, you can feel that meat now, huh?

UUunngg, it’s like I slipped into his cock like a sleeve, and I felt me fuckin.. explode into his size! Damn I’m packing..

You’re acclimating very well!

Yeah, man.. I’ve wanted to do this for fuckin ever… He won the genetic lottery, I don’t know what happened with me, heh..

Stoooop, man, you were already cute! But now?… Mmff, what a unit…

Shit yeah, bro, I can feel how much you’re into this! You got—… Damn, when’d you lose your drawers?

As soon as I realized I needed to feel my meat up against this cake.

RRNngh, goddamn you’re.. you’re thick… greedy fucker aren’t you?

You have no clue. I just wanna feel all of you, dude. In fact, I might just have to try you on myself.

Uuooghh, fuck you’re so deep, bro! I can feel—…

Feel me thrusting up into your cock, right? FUCK you’re big! Ooh, you’re gonna love this…

G-guuoh my god! Shit you gotta tight grip!!

That’s right, man, flex harder for me!

I—UUGH—OOUUhhh…

Theeerree you go, dude, keep sliding in, mmmfff… let’s get, uunnhh, fuckin’… huuuuge…

Aauuhh, fuuuuckk dude, s-s-soooooo BIIIIG…. MMMPFFF yeah bro, sss-streeetch us OOoouut, gimme—gim—UUUHH—FFUUOOHHH FFFUCK!!

Oohh—Uuoohh—Huuhh… Hoooo, WOW. Hoomygod, fuck what a mmesssss… Jesus Christ, man, I can’t believe it took all that to tap me out. But fuck get a look at us!

Look at these… guns as big as my head… And these.. mmff, these titsssss, yeeeow! Damn I gotta be 280 at least, and… god, I’m gonna choke some motherfuckers with this thing. Hah! Almost hurts to swing around.

Alright dude, I’ll let you go your own way, but first we’re gonna have a weekend together that’ll change your fuckin’ life. Hell, you might come crawling back to have me to slip you on like a condom on the regular… All my other clients do.

Strap in, bro, this is gonna be fun.

[mystrangetfs]

24th Caption - Accident

Hey everyone here is the 24/31 caption - I really enjoyed making the images using ai for this one and the story itself.

As always here is the first paragraph and the rest is on my blog.

Richard cheered louder as the protest reached its end point, in front of the factory itself. It had been for manufacturing car parts but now under new management all the workers had been laid off and an Ai was now running the whole operation. What’s more, instead of car parts, this new company - Flipside, was supposedly creating sex toys and other dirty sex paraphernalia, even worse they were gay sex toys. Richard wasn’t going to allow this to happen in his town, he needed to protect the children from the harmful LGBT invasion that was happening, so he had been shouting and screaming all day. He was now the most hyped up he had been standing near the gates, chanting songs and waving his American flag. However, it seemed that the others in the march had lost much of their enthusiasm now that they had reached the destination. While marching through town there were people to shout at, counter protesters to argue with, but now at the deserted end of town with many derelict buildings and no other people around it seemed pointless shouting at an empty factory, but not for Richard.

Richard tried to rally the others and tried to get them louder but many were now heading home having done their bit.

Richard started to become frustrated “It’s not over yet! Close it down! Close it down! C’mon everyone!” Richard was met with a couple of voices joining in but many were leaving, content with what they had done already to protest the factory, but not Richard. Richard looked at the factory, there were no people inside, just this Ai. If he could break in and disrupt production, destroy the Ai or anything to show that the people of this town were serious about this perverted factory he would be hailed a hero! Richard waited for more people to leave before shuffling around the side of the fenced off area, the wire fence was easy to climb over for someone of Richard’s athleticism. He had been a footballer for most of his youth and now worked out regularly and while also doing some personal trainer work on the side. Richard’s large muscles made it easy to pull himself up and over, what’s more, with one powerful kick from his tree trunk-like legs he was able to bash open a door at the side of the factory. 

Accident

  Richard cheered louder as the protest reached its end point, in front of the factory itself. It had been for manufacturing car parts but n

[rebwx]

German Rebeu (Talahon) listening to French rap

[rebwx]

The Rebeu is the combination of everything I have ever desired in a male: African fertility, Arab dominance, and a sexy French tongue. It's a shame there are still too few of them; we need more of them abroad so that both sides of the Mediterranean look, dress, and mate in the same way 🇫🇷

[mystrangetfs]

A fun assignment- Muscle growth ai sequence and story

Alan and Mac stayed after class as instructed by their politics and economics professor. Alan shuffled awkwardly with his books trying not to look at the mountain that was Mac, the jock was huge in height, weight and muscle mass. Alan wrinkled his nose as he got a whiff of sweat and body odour that was radiating off of Mac, he couldn't believe that they even attended the same college, let alone the same class. How was it that such a dumb mountain of muscle was allowed to coast along while people like Alan studied day and night. Alan had just spent nearly two weeks solid in the library writing his report on the power of words of authority while he assumed Mac must have spent it in the gym. Both men then turned to their professor, he beamed at them both. "Thanks for staying guys. I wanted to let you know that for the next assignment I'd like to pair you up for a debate. After reading both of your recent papers I think it would be enlightening for both of you to spend some time working together".

Alan almost gasped at the news but stopped himself.

Alan turned and sneered at Mac who instead grinned with delight. Of course he would be happy, he'd have a nerd to do all the work thought Alan before turning back to his professor and coming close enough to whisper.

"Please sir, is that really necessary? I don't have time to babysit some odorous gorilla."

The professor just looked down at Alan with a small amount shock and frustration "Yes. It will be good for both of you." the professor said sternly and turned and left leaving Alan alone with Mac once again. "Odorous gorilla huh?" Mac said almost amused but with an undercurrent of anger. "I'll show you odorous"

Mac then proceed to grin like an idiot and bend over pushing his enormous muscular bubble butt directly towards Alan, the threading of his shorts ached as the massive muscle stretched it out to his limits. Alan had no time to react as Mac grunted and unleashed a booming, thunderous fart that blasted on for a strong 10 seconds before then bombarding Alan's senses with the concentrated scent of protein and ass.

Alan gagged as the smell assaulted him, the shock and disgust he felt soon turning to anger as Mac laughed at his own foul fart and Alan's pathetic reaction.

Alan was filled with rage as he pinched his nose which did nothing to get rid of the scent that now seem to stick to his nostrils and tongue. Alan's voice came out as almost a scream as the furiously little nerd dropped his books and pointed a the chuckling behemoth.

"You beast, you animal! You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! How the fuck did they let someone like you into college its a disgrace!" Alan said red in the face with fury.

However, Alan's fury quickly subsided as he looked at Mac who after being insulted was no longer laughing and instead now looked rather threatening and Alan realised he had just called a man twice his size a monster.

Mac then spoke into a loud commanding tone that instantly made Alan retreat into himself. "Monsterous? Dumb? Smelly? Is that all you think of me as? That's disappointing Alan, I was actually looking forward to working with you since we both got the highest grades on the last assignment." Alan almost whisper "Highest?

"Yeah I found out some really interesting things when researching words of power and how they have been used in history. For example I learnt this neat little phrase -" Mac then took an deep inhale before then with a deep resonating shout said "ym eciov sdnammoc ym eciov si hturt" Alan was confused by the jibberish and after standing in silence for a time finally asked "And what does that mean?" Mac then grinned an almost sinster smile "It means that you will take off your glasses and smash them on the floor, you don't need them anymore." Alan assumed it was just a threat, Mac's penance for Alan insulting him. Alan had no intention of smashing his glasses but then something odd happened, his hand moved without his consent and grabbed them from his face. Alan whimpered "Wait what's happening?!" confused as he dropped his glasses to the floor and raised his foot. "Stop! Why -crunch, smash, crunch"

Alan found himself violently stomping on his own glasses his body moving autonomously and without his control. When they were fully destroyed Alan found himself looking back up at Mac. He should have been blurry and hard to see but instead he was as clear as crystal, like he had never needed glasses in the first place.

Alan now more fearful look up at Mac's grinning handsome face and asked "How did you do that? Why did I just do that?" Mac smiled "Words have power and those words have an awful lot of it." Mac then paused and folded his arms which made him look even more imposing. "Those words, they help me to command the truth, which is why you no longer need your glasses and it is also why you no longer dress like a dork and instead dress like a gym obsessed frat bro who loves attention." Alan was still confused but then he felt a breeze on his legs and saw his trousers starting to shorten and his shoes turning bright yellow. Mac wasn't just commanding the truth, whatever he said became the truth! Alan looked down in horror as his modest button up shirt changed to yellow, its sleeves vanished and the fabric shrunk until only a ridiculously skimpy stringer tank remained. Alan's trousers became bright as they turned from boring grey to neon pink and then pulled themselves up past his knees up and to his thighs, leaving even more of his thin, pale, skinny body exposed to the world. Lastly were his shoes, the bright yellow covered them as they morphed into obscene sneakers that could be seen from a mile away. Alan could only look down in shock as Mac let out another chuckle at the skinny 100 pound nerd in the outfit of the most arrogant bodybuilder.

Mac grinned "You always dress like this even through the winter, you have to be noticed." Alan then felt something in his brain change, a slight fuzz spread across his memories and now whenever he thought back he was dressed in similiar attire, every class he was in a tank top, even in the snow he was rocking the short shorts and his closet at home would blind him with the neon colours. Alan then looked at Mac was pure fear in his eyes, he hadn't just change his appearence here and now, no... he had changed his entire past and his memories!

Alan turned to Mac and started begging "I'm sorry Mac! I am sorry I didn't want to work with you, I am sorry I called you names, I am sorry that I assumed you were just a an idiot jock! Please just change things back, please just let me go!" For a moment Mac's expression softened and for a second he considered letting Alan go and living the rest of his life in his new ridiculous outfits but then Alan's insults came back to him and his smile deepened. "Monsterous...dumb...smelly oaf. Very unkind words I have to say Alan...but words that describe you perfectly." "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Alan screamed as suddenly his whole body felt like it was on fire as his muscles started to flex and itch and swell. Alan winced in pain as his bones started to lengthen and his height increased pushing him upwards. His arms and legs ached as muscle began to grow and expand, his thin torso widened as abs and pectorals began to form as Alan started on his journey to jockdom.

Alan was terrified as the heat inside him then seemed to double as every muscle in his body grew expontially larger and his entire frame grew wider and more unwieldy. Alan looked down and saw his chest grow two large, plump, round pectorals that jutted out like a shelf, each one then flexed and bounced involuntarily. Alan groaned as his torso quickly sported a six pack which very quickly turned into an eight pack as his whole torso soon looked like had had been sculpted from marble. Alan then saw his biceps balloon as thick veins came to surface of his muscles and his biceps grew to the size of cannonballs. While his legs and thighs thickened and soon rubbed together due to their sheer size. What's more behind Alan his once flat pale ass had grow into a shapely round, perfect peach that was hugged delicately by his tight workout shorts, showing it off to everyone who would walk by. Alan now had the body of a gym bunny but still the heat increased inside him.

With one more painful burst of heat and energy Alan felt every part of him grow as his legs, torso and arms all grew in size. Alan looked at Mac pleadingly as he grew to match the jock's eye line and then kept going higher until he was three inches taller than Mac. When the heat finally subsided Alan was taller, heavier and more muscular than Mac, he had to be at least 6'5 and over 280 pounds of pure muscle.

Alan cringed as he looked at his new massive physique and how much of it was now on display due to his tiny skimpy outfit. Alan wanted to keep pleading with Mac but the jock placed his hand on his shoulder and cut him off before he could speak.

Mac was almost giddy as he looked at the newest mounatin of muscle on campus "Now that's the monsterous part, now here comes the dumb part, but don't worry Alan I'll let you keep all those smarts they'll just be locked up inside that head along with your nerdy self and who you used to be." Alan was about to protest when suddenly the fuzz in his head returned and everything suddenly became harder to piece together. What was it that he wanted to say? Why was he so worried? Was there something that he wanted to stop? Didn't he use to think good? Was that the problem? Even a slight bit of drool started to form at the edge of Alan's mouth as all his knowledge of college, high school, elementary school and everything except the basics was sucked away to a tiny little part of his mind that his body no longer could access. Alan tried to get to it but it was like his mind was walking through thick mud and the more he tried to get to it the less he felt in control of his body and instead it seemed something else was taking control.

Mac grabbed his new creation by the shoulder smiling as he watched the twinkle in the eyes that use to be Alan become trapped at the back of his own mind. Mac then gave the walking wall of muscle a little shake "Hey bro you in there? Earth to Atlas my best bro are you in there or are you too busy thinking about the party tonight?" Alan no longer could do anything as the fuzz in his brain started to clear and when it did Alan no longer recognised the memories and thoughts. No longer was he studying in his room for hours on end, no he was partying and or going to the gym with Mac and his bro's. There was memories of him drinking and smoking weed, getting tattoos, banging babes and being the best mate to his bro Mac. Alan wanted to scream as his old life, all that education all of his smarts, all of his achievements were erased and replaced with some arrogant asshole gym bro who only cared about his appearence, partying and his best mate Mac.

Alan could only sob from inside his mind in the body of Atlas as tribal tatoos covered his arms, a gaudy gold chain and watch attached itself to his body, while diamond studs appeared in his ears, while his whole body took on an almost fake tan hue. Alan wanted to scream and cry, he wanted his body back but no matter what he did he was still stuck in the mud of his mind, the intelligence and knowledge, his past life all there but until able to take control of the dumb oaf he had become. Alan then felt his stomach rumble and his new body grinned at Mac. "And here comes the smelly part" Mac said already starting to laugh as Atlas turned around and pushed out his pink short clad bubble butt. Alan desperately wanted to protest and was thoroughly humiliated as he bent over and unleashing a droning, spluttering, foul smelling fart that left Alan sobbing for mercy as he smelt the stench he had now produced and would be forced to smell for the rest of his existence.

"Get a whiff of that bro! That could peel that fucking paint off the walls!" Atlas shouted incredibly proud of the stench he had made and making his best bro laugh. "You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! Get that ass away from me!" Mac laughed as he playfully pushed at his new bro's gaint gas producing ass. "Phew we better get out of this classroom before we stink it out!"

Mac then put his hand on Atlas's back and he returned the bro affection by putting his arm round Mac's shoulder. The two bro's laughing at the stench they had created as they left.

"So what are we doing now bro?" Atlas asked while casually flexing a bicep.

"I've got to find a new debate partner for this class, you have gym session with the boys." Mac said before waving to Atlas and leaving him on his own, where the new monsterous bro found himself blasting ass and then heading to the gym with a tiny almost silent scream echoing at the back of his head.

[mystrangetfs]

4 wishes - Muscle growth and inanimate AI sequence.

Jason tapped his foot loudly, the gardener he had hired was still not finished and had been bugging him all day to pay for better manure based fertiliser, he had three data reports left to write by 6 O'clock and now he was waiting impatiently on hold, while he urgently needed to confirm an order with the supplier but it seemed they were intent on making him wait.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy! Come play with me!"

"Not now pumpkin, daddy is busy." Jason sighed with thinly veiled frustration before adding "I got you all those silly pop dolls you wanted, why can't you just play with those?" Jason huffed he had spent a small fortune on all those toys to keep her happy but still she wanted to vacuum up his precious time!

"Fine. I only wanted to ask you about this doll. It has a 4 leaf clover on it and the Saja boys don't dress like this?" She said while holding up the doll.

Jason was about to look closer when he heard a voice on the other side of the phone "Finally! I urgently need to speak with Graham in shipping concerning the latest shipment" Jason then turned away from his daughter and she soon got the hint.

Dejected and sad, she began to walk away with the strange doll in her hands, muttering a wish while looking at the cartoonish, little handsome muscle doll of some Korean idol. "I wish daddy was fun and strong like you guys" she said before grabbing a few more of her toys and heading upstairs.

Unbeknownst to Jason the clover on the doll started to glow and one of the leaves disappeared. Jason thought he heard something about being fun from his daughter but, she had already run off to play and he was too concerned with his call to care. That was until he felt an off sensation coming from his shoes, it was as if they were vibrating. Jason quickly looked down and then across the room to check it wasn't an earthquake but everything else seemed normal, it was only his shoes and feet that felt strange.

Jason was about to bend down and check when Graham began speaking on the other side of the phone and both men started chatting. Jason was far too busy with his work to notice that his brown dress shoes has already started turning a mixture of neon yellow, pink and purple, his trousers has started to loosen and had began shrinking revealing the bottoms of his legs. His belt was thinning and began melding with the fabric of his trousers, which had now taken on a more vibrant pink hue. The blue in his shirt had already started to swirl around as more bright colours started to appear all over it until it looked like a ridiculous flamboyant pattern. The expensive watch on his wrist had turn blue and blocky, the metal changing to cheap plastic and the clock face turning digital. It was only when the buttons on his shirt began to tighten that Jason felt something was wrong. When he looked down he jumped in fright and dropped his phone, while the buttons on his shirt began to ping off and fly across the room. His shoes were now bright coloured high tops, his trousers were now pink short shorts, while his shirt had a garish pattern and was now three sizes too small revealing his pale chest and soft little belly. Leaving him in a young, bright, fun new outfit.

"What the hell is happening!" Jason shouted as he looked at the unfamiliar clothes and cheap digital watch. Jason had no idea how it was possible, had it been some kind of prank? Was he hallucinating? Had his daughter done this some how? Jason was about to shout up and ask when he heard a dull voice coming from his phone on the floor and once again his work became a priority, he would finish this call and then investigate what was going on. However, just as Jason was about to bend down to get his phone, his body suddenly became bursting with energy. Rippling waves of intense energy sent shock waves through every fibre of his being. Jason suddenly felt strange, giddy and he had the urge to run and jump. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time not since he had grown older and grown his little chubby belly. Yet, as Jason thought about his belly he looked down to see it no longer was prominent and was that definition?

Jason couldn't believe his eyes as he watched his body ripple and change as more muscle started to appear over his body. What were once the beginnings of man boobs were now the beginnings of pectorals, his belly had gone and instead there was a six pack etching itself across his torso. His biceps expanded, while his thighs and calves packed on the muscle until he almost looked like a fitness model.

However, the growth didn't stop there. Jason watched in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his pectorals rounded out and became large bouncy handfuls of muscle. His six pack quickly grew into an eight pack and looked impressively defined and sculpted, something that would have taken years to acquire, Jason had gotten in seconds. His thighs thickened and his butt became round and pert, his arms grew huge and strong making him look more masculine and strong. If the growth wasn't so unexplained and rapid Jason might have been thrilled with the transformation but it isn't normal to go from 40 pounds overweight to the body of a professional bodybuilder!

When the feeling inside Jason finally stopped he was now 240 pounds of pure muscle, his body was insanely shredded and toned and even his new ridiculous outfit didn't seem out of place on a body such as his. Jason took a few seconds to catch his breath, his phone had gone silent and he was left standing with a new outfit and a new body. Jason had no idea what to do, should he call for help? Did he need to call for help? He didn't feel unwell in fact he felt better than ever, he was still able to think and to move around but how was this all possible? Jason then heard music blasting from his daughter's room upstairs and then he looked down at the dolls on the floor, some of them were wearing similar clothes to him! His daughter had said something before she left maybe she could tell him what was happening. Jason then started heading to the stairs to confront his daughter.

However, upstairs his daughter was still playing with the doll and happily singing along to k-pop. She then looked at the doll and felt a little sad as she made another wish "I wish my daddy liked K-pop as much as me" The next leaf on the clover glowed and faded away.

Jason has only just got to the bottom of the stairs and he started to feel strange again and this time it was coming from his face.

Jason found himself bracing and gritting his teeth as his head began to hurt. Jason closed his eyes in pain as the hair on his head started to thicken, his receding hairline faded away. The wrinkles and lines on his face smoothed out as his skin became taut and supple. His teeth whitened, his body felt more energetic, for the first time in years he felt overcome with arousal and his shorts began to tent out. When he finally did open his eyes he gasped in shock as the face looking back at him was the one he was used to seeing in the mirror about 20 years ago.

Jason let out a small worried smile as he touched his restored youthful face, he had forgotten how handsome he used to be and looking down at his shorts, how horny he use to be in his early 20's. Jason was still panicked but it was getting harder for him to worry, the outfit was stupid but he now had the perfect body and he was once again young! Jason shook his head, this either had to be a dream or a hallucination, he could have an entirely different life now. He could escape the humdrum family life and stressful job. He could move abroad and party and fuck as much as he wanted, he wouldn't waste this opportunity. However, while Jason was already planning his new life away from his family, his face began to feel hot again.

Jason was confused as the pain returned, was he getting even younger looking? Jason had to close his eyes and hold his head as he once again started to change. His blonde hair darkened to deep black, it grew even thicker and straighter, while taking on a very glossy texture. His lips seemed to grow fuller and more pouty, while his complexion grew lighter and his skin turned plump, smooth and with a luminous glow. His eyes turned from blue to deep brown, while his eyelids changed shape to fit his new culture and nationality. When Jason did open his eyes he was still young but he was no longer looking at his face, or an American face. Instead he was staring back an incredibly handsome, pouty face of a Korean man.

Jason went to shout but it seems his vocal chords had changed just like his face because instead of English, Jason found himself shouting in Korean.

"맙소사! 무슨 일이야? 내 얼굴이 어디로 갔지!" (oh my god! What is happening? Where did my face go!?)

"나는 왜 영어를 못 하는 거지! 빨리 도움을 받아야 해!" (Why can't I speak English! I need to get help quick!"

Jason was about to turn to call for help but upstairs his daughter was playing and was still holding the doll.

She smiled, sang and danced but now she has started to organise her dolls, her daddy had bought her hundreds but he had never taken the time to learn anything about them or spend any time with her. She then held the special doll tightly and wished "I wish Daddy would play with me." While being hugged tightly the clover on the doll glowed once again and the third leaf disappeared.

Jason was about to run and get his phone when suddenly his legs seemed like iron weights. Jason looked down at them panicking, they felt stiff and hard, whenever he tried to move them they didn't respond. Jason quickly grabbed at his legs and was shocked at what he felt, instead of soft warm flesh, he felt something cold, hard and rigid. Jason almost screamed when he started seeing his skin turn to plastic in front of his very eyes.

"돕다!돕다!돕다!" (Help!") Jason screamed as he flailed his arms and torso around to try and move but soon they started to stiffen as well. Jason shouted as loud as he could but his daughter's music was just too loud for her to hear him. Jason could only watch frozen as his legs turned shiny and plastic, as well as his arms and torso. The perfect muscles now forever permanent in their plastic toy form. Jason whimpered in fear as he watched his joints crack and bend until they resembled that of an action figure. His hair was now one big clump of plastic on his head and soon the hardening reached his face. His mouth was forced into a smile while his frightened expression of his eyes became forever plastered across his face. The once handsome, Korean bodybuilder was now nothing but a giant life sized action figure, although not for long.

Jason felt his stomach twist and his head spin as his body started to rapidly shrink. The world around him becoming taller, larger and more imposing as he shrunk from 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1 foot in height but still his body compacted and shrank. Soon Jason was measuring his height in inches as the stairs next to him became a mountain he could never climb and even the first step was as tall as a house to him now. At 5 inches tall Jason was now miniscule, plastic, Korean and completely helpless.

Jason was left in silence, the faint music coming from his daughter's room the only thing he could hear. Jason couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything at all. He realised he wasn't breathing or blinking, yet he could still see, he could still hear and he could still smell as deep earthy stench suddenly tickled his nose. Jason then felt the large thudding vibrations of giant foot steps as deep nasally voice shouted out into the house.

"Mister Jason. Mister Jason I ave finished dumping the manure like you asked?"

Jason wanted to screamed as he watched his massive, obese gardener Miguel stomp into the house. He had to be the size of a skyscraper, his large fat gut wobbled as he took a step and his voice hurt Jason's ears as he shouted for him again. Jason was terrified he desperately wanted to call for help, to alert Miguel to what happened to him and to get someone to save him. Yet, all Jason could do was smile the same plastic smile even when Miguel's manure coated boot took a step closer towards him. The stench was horrendous, thick and foul. At his new height Jason could see in great detail they thick sloppy muck that clung to Miguel's boot, its odour causing Jason to gag internally even though he no longer had a stomach or throat.

Jason then watched as the other boot came even closer, Jason wanted to scream. He begged and prayes that Miguel would see him, that he would pick him up and save him but the gardener was not looking at the floor or for 5 inch Korean action figures and so with his next step Miguel planted his dirty, filthy boot directly onto Jason's tiny plastic body.

Jason screamed but felt no pain as the massive weight crushed him from above, pushing down onto his face and crushing him into the floor. His little plastic limbs twisted and bent into unnatural positions, changing depending on the force applied and no longer under Jason's control. The thick manure on the boot coating the tiny man and making him reek of horse shit. Miguel only pressed down for a moment before quickly realising he had stood on something hard, but that moment was enough to coat Jason in grime and crush his spirits. How was he ever going to become human again, so tiny, so unrecognisable and so helpless.

Jason wanted to weep as Miguel pinched his head and pulled him up from the floor covered in filth. Miguel quickly inspected what he had stood on and looked worried as he tried to rub off some of the manure and pose Jason back into into a more recognisable stance. Jason then heard a familiar voice from the staircase.

"Are you looking for my daddy? Hey what have you got there?"

Miguel looked up sheepishly "I am sorry little señorita, I think I stepped on one of your dolls." Miguel said holding out the palm of his hand.

Jason watched as his daughter walked over to him and he stared back at her giant face and that of Miguel's. This was his chance, if he was going to move or going to talk it had to be now. Jason tried with all of his might to move his plastic body, he tried to scream and shout, to cry for help, to tell them he was right here, that the smell of the manure on his new outfit was unbearable, to apologise to his daughter for never paying enough attention to her! He tried to say all those things but nothing emerged from his smiling mouth and his little plastic body remained posed how Miguel had moved it.

"It smells funny" The girl said while smiling at Miguel. Miguel chuckled "That I think you can blame on me, but look at his little face its almost as if he hates being stinky too!"

Both Miguel and the Jason's daughter chuckled as they looked at the filthy little action figure. Jason could do nothing but be humiliated as he was left looking up at his daughter pleadingly. She was his last hope, maybe deep down she would sense that her father was now this pathetic little action figure and find a way to turn him back to normal.

With an innocent grin she smiled and looked at Miguel "He isn't one of my dolls, mine don't smell that bad!" Laughing once again and crushing Jason's last hope of being saved.

Miguel let out another deep laugh as he looked at the funny expression on the weird little action figure "So what do you want me to do with him?"

The girl smiled and clutched her newest doll "I wish for you to have him, he seems to make you laugh!" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Jason screamed internally and with that last wish the final leaf of the clover glowed and disappeared the magic gone forever, while the memory of Jason the dad, businessman and husband was wiped from existence and instead was replaced by a funny little action figure owned by a fat gardener. For a moment everyone remained frozen until the new reality hit Miguel and Jason was left frozen and sobbing in his hands. "Thank you little señorita, I know exactly where to put him. It's another place very stinky so I know he will feel right at home." Jason was left screaming, sobbing and crying as his tiny plastic body was shoved into the back pocket of the gardener's tight large trousers. The musky, sweaty smell already burning Jason's nostrils.

Jason was left sobbing and broken as Miguel left his home, Jason could only watch as his life, his family, his future was all left behind as he pressed deeper into Miguel's fat ass cheek. His daughter waved to Miguel as he left but it was almost as if she was waving to her father and she closed the door and forgot about him completely. Jason was on the verge of a mental break down as he was jostled around along with Miguel's fat ass as he waddled back to his truck and climbed into it, slamming his ass down on the seat and crushing Jason. Now alone Miguel reached down in his messy truck and pulled out some old cheeseburgers.

Miguel was lactose intolerant and cheese gave him terrible gas but he was the only one in his car so he didn't feel bad about lifting his ass cheek and letting rip a long droning fart, making the tiny plastic man in his pocket squeak and scream as his life with his new owner has only just begun.

[mystrangetfs]

Makeover - AI transformation sequence - Femboy tf

Allen took a double take as he walked with his girlfriend Felicity down the street, at first he thought it was a very curvy and voluptuous woman standing looking at her phone but as he looked back his face turned to disgust as he saw that it was in fact a man.

Allen couldn't believe what he was looking at as he grimaced at the pretty, lean, blonde man with an obscene bubble butt. Allen felt a mixture of confusion, anger and betrayal, he was all to happy to leer and stare when he thought it was a woman, but now he felt tricked! Allen and Felicity had barely taken two steps before Allen could not contain his discomfort and disgust any longer.

"Can you believe that!? That weirdo's like that are allowed to parade around in public! There are children here!" Allen said his fist clenched as he made his voice loud and heard.

Felicity was taken aback and embarrassed as she hurried her boyfriend along so that his insults would not be heard. They had been dating for the last 5 months and not once had Allen shown any inkling of homophobia. Yet, as they walked Allen kept going on about how gross and lewd it was, how freakish the man was and that he should stay in his own area and away from the public. Allen continued to talk about how no man should ever have plastic surgery and it was perverted and weird for men to wear make up, his anger only intensifying. Felicity couldn't believe what she was hearing, she felt cheated, she felt dirty, this was not the man she thought she was dating! Allen was only getting more irate and was on the verge of shouting, his language only seemed to be getting more vulgar and offensive, when Felicity interrupted him finally ending his rant.

"Babe stop! I need to head to the salon and I think you should come with me." Felicity said while taking Allen's hand and leading him down a quieter street.

"The salon? But I thought you just got your nails done?" Allen said in confusion.

"Yeah I know, but suddenly I just feel really ugly" Felicity said stopping and looking at the man she had just spent 5 months of her life with who had turned out to be some bigoted asshole. "I think you should get something done while you wait, I think it will help you relax and maybe change your mind about a few things."

"I ain't getting my nails done!"

"No silly, they have something special for guys like you. C'mon it's just a couple more streets this way." Felicity said as she pulled at Allen's hand.

A few minutes later Allen was pulled to a very luxurious boutique salon called 'Pink and Pretty!'. Allen felt awkward as Felicity left him in the entrance way while she went and spoke to some women at the back. They smiled and then looked at Allen who gave a quick wave which they did not reciprocate. The women then led Felicity to a room at the back while one came over to Allen.

"Felicity has told us everything we need to know and has booked you in for an ultra pink renewal. Just wait here and someone will be with you shortly." The woman then quickly headed towards the backroom.

"Hey wait what's an ultra pink renewal?" Allen yelled but the woman had already disappeared, leaving Allen standing alone in the salon.

Allen once again found himself grimacing as he looked at the feminine decor, the flowers and pink, as well as the pictures of clients, many of which were gay men. Why would Felicity bring him here? Allen was about to wait outside when the lights started to flicker and the room seemed to darken and then flash to a pinkish hue. Allen then jumped in fright as a loud girly voice echoed throughout the salon squealing with delight.

"A new customer! How nice it is to meet you sweetie, Felicity has told me all about you! Aren't you a stud!"

Allen looked around but could not see the source of the voice, it didn't sound like it was coming from a speaker and it didn't sound electronic but Allen could not work out the source.

"Oh up here handsome." the voice giggled

Allen then looked up and froze in fear as two pink glowing hands danced above his head before slowly lowering themselves in front of him. Each hand was delicate, perfectly manicured and completely ethereal like some sort of pink ghost. Allen wanted to dismiss it as some sort of trick or projection but the way they moved was just far too real and life like. Allen immediately went to run for the door but the hands quickly floated in front of him, unlike a ghost when Allen ran he didn't pass through the hands but instead it was like he had hit a brick wall. Allen was pushed to the floor, Allen looked up to see one hand with its pink finger wagging.

"Nuh-uh handsome, where do you think you're going?"

Allen quickly scrambled to his feet and stared at the sentient hands in fear.

Allen tried to run once again but this time the hands were ready as they dived at his feet and grabbed each one. The hands then pulled Allen's feet downwards, rooting each one to the ground and no matter how much he tried to pull on them, they remained stuck in place. The hands then quickly reappeared in front of Allen and wagged their fingers again.

"Oh you naughty boy! Felicity has ordered the ultra pink renewal package for you and you aren't going anywhere until I have finished making you over!" The voice then laughed and the lights flickered.

"Please this has to be some sort of mistake, what is this?" Allen shouted while still trying to pull his feet off the floor.

"No mistake honey, it seems your girlfriend felt you needed a bit of a revamp. Shall we get started?"

"What!? NO! FELICITY HELP!!" Allen screamed as the pink hands moved closer to him.

"Oh such a big man with such a big manly voice! That certainly won't do!" The pink hands then moved to his head and became to massage it.

Allen began to freak out even more as he felt the hands touching his hair and scalp, the massage would have actually felt nice if it wasn't for the fact he was rooted to the ground and the hands doing the massaging were ghostly and pink! "FELICITY HELP ME! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! GET OFF OF MEeEEeeEeeE!" Allen then reached for his throat as his normally masculine deep voice suddenly cracked and whined as he spoke. Allen tried to cough as his throat suddenly started to feel strange. "WhAt ARe YoU DoInG tO meeeeee!" As Allen screamed his question his deep voiced continued to break and sound higher as it no longer sounded demanding, angry and dominant but instead it just started to sound whiny.

Allen's panic only intensified as the hands on his head still massaging started to apply more and more pressure. Eventually it started to feel like Allen was balancing a tonne of bricks on his head as the hands continued to pushed down until suddenly Allen point of view dropped. It was as if Allen had just tripped over but he was standing completely still, it seemed impossible but as the hands pushed the sudden shift happened again and Allen's mind spun. Allen looked around desperately for answers about what was happening to him and as he did he noticed that something was off. The counters and chairs looked bigger and closer to him, the mirrors that circled him looked larger. Allen then felt the drop again and quickly looked at his reflection and let out a deafening yell. "AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhh" Allen's yell turning to a high pitched squeal as he looked at his much shorter reflection. Before he had stood at a confident 6'3 but now he looked like his short friends he bullied at only 5'9 and still the hands were pushing and massaging!

"WHat is happening to me! Make it stop please!" Allen started to shout but as his point of view suddenly dropped another couple of inches his voiced grew in pitch. "My voice, my body! What have to done to me! Change it back!" Allen screeched as his voice remained girly, high and sweet, making his demands sound trivial and far from the bellowing shout he intended it to be. Allen's mind raced as he looked to his reflection and saw he was now only around 5'5 in height and this had drastically changed his body. While he was physically shorter he still had retained his weight and muscle, meaning that it has was now more condensed and compact making him look comically wider. The small fireplug of a man was freaking out as he desperately tried to move and get away from the hands pressing on his head but nothing he did seemed to stop them pushing as once again his point of view fell again. Allen whined and screeched for help as now he was barely looking over the salon chairs as he fell to a cute little 5'1 becoming petite and cute, his voice high and pathetic to match his new smaller stature.

Finally the hands on his head floated off his scalp and the pressure finally stopped and left Allen reeling at his new height and squashed muscular body. "What the fuck have you done to me? Change it back this instant!" Allen screamed, it was intended as threatening and furious but instead it just came across as a school girl having a tantrum.

"Oh honey that voice is cute but do you know what isn't? All that ugly muscle! It makes you look fat sweetie! But don't worry I can fix that!" The voice said with glee as the pink hands that grabbed onto Allen's arms and started to squeeze.

"No please not my muscles! Let go of me pleassseeeee!" Allen cried in his femme voice as he started to feel weaker. It started where the arms were grabbing as his biceps began to rapidly shrink, each one deflating until the massive cannon balls became barely visible lumps. Allen screamed as he watched the decades of hard work at the gym all disappear in seconds as his muscles mass dwindled away. Next his back and shoulders seemed to cave in as the lats that once made him broad and imposing shrank away, this was quickly followed by his chest as his was prominent pectorals sunk back into his small, weaker torso until only his perky nipples peeked through his shirt. Allen felt tears pricking his eyes as he watched his legs thin and wither as the once thick quads became average little sticks holding up his now petite lean little body. The veins, the definition, the mass all faded quicker than Allen could fully comprehend. Allen a once tall imposing 250 pound monster of muscles had his muscle and height siphoned away leaving him at an lean 120 pounds of sweet, petite cuteness.

"Please stop! I don't want this, Felicity wouldn't want this! Please just turn me back, I want my muscles back!" Allen said as he let out a quivering little sob.

"Awww aren't you precious, don't worry honey we are nearly done. We just need to make your face match your new super cute body and voice!" The pink hands then grabbed at Allen's head and started to massage his hair and face, making Allen screech and yell all over again.

Allen's voice was quickly muffled as the hands pushed and kneaded his face, at first it was uncomfortable and painful but then it started to feel strange as if his skin and face was actually being pushed around and reshaped. Allen quickly looked to his reflection and tried to look at what the hands were doing. It started with his nose that seems to be pushed and squeezed until it was a cute little button nose. Then came his jaw which was pushed and smoothed until it was less defined, rounder and more androgynous making him look far less masculine. Allen wanted to shout and yell but the hands rubbed at his lips and soon they were plumper and pinker. The hands then rubbed at his skin as it became smoother, softer and blemish free. Allen looked at his reflection and whined as he became delicate, prissy and cute, his once manly, angular, strong face had been morphed into the epitome of pretty boy and with the right make up and wig he would easily pass as a member of the opposite sex! Allen desperately tried to fight the hands as they pinched at his eyes brows, making them thinner and more defined and winced as his ears grew bigger lobes and shrunk in size. Then hands started to tussle his hair and with each toss it grew a little longer and curlier. It was like watching a car accident for Allen, it was horrific seeing his body become something he hated but he couldn't look away as his short brown hair grew into a curly, messy blonde perm on the top of his head, completing his look into tiny, cute pretty boy.

"Oh honey aren't you just the cutest thing!" The voice echoed clearly pleased with its work. "Oh but why so glum?"

Allen could feel the rage building inside of him as he looked at his new face and body, he looked like a completely different person of course he was unhappy! Allen was just about to yell once again when the voice quickly cut him off.

"AHH How could I have been so silly! Of course you have that bitchy little face when I haven't finished your make over without giving you your new look!" The voice shouted in genuine shock as the pink hands quickly pulled at Allen's clothing.

As the lights flickered darker the hands started to twist and pinch at Allen's clothes and quickly they began to change. As one hand pulled up his shirt to reveal his midriff the fabric seemed to shrink away to turn it into a crop top and turned it a bright white so everyone could see him. The shorts he wore to the gym most days thickened as they turned to denim and then rapidly started shrinking until they were a cute pair of daisy dukes, wedging themselves up Allen's ass crack. While his shoes became pretty pink converse, the crucifix around his neck changed into a glittery rainbow, making it clear what the pink hands had turned Allen into. When the hands were finished the lights in the salon turned bright once again and the pink faded from the room.

"One ultra pink renewal finished and looking fabulous! What do you think cutie pie" The voice echoed, leaving Allen staring at his new body, outfit and face.

"Come on sweetie don't be shy, what do you think?"

Allen was left stunned for a moment as he looked at a reflection he did not recognise. A strong feeling of disgust and fury bulged inside him as he looked at his feminine features, diminished height, withered muscles and revealing outfit. "WHAT DO I THINK! TURN ME BACK NOW! I am a freak, I look like some pathetic, weak little fairy! I sound like a fucking little girl! I worked years to build muscles to become a monster at gym that woman wanted to fuck, that Felicity wanted to fuck! Not this prissy, little wimp that has never lifted a day in his life and couldn't lift his own limp little wrists! CHANGE ME BACK NOW YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!" Allen screamed into the void. In his head he still sounded intimidating, scary but in reality he just sound petulant and it only made him sound more pathetic.

Allen was left in silence and the more the quiet hung in the air the more vulnerable he started to feel, the more he was aware of how small he was, how he was still stuck to the floor and how he was still at the mercy of the voice.

"I am sorry you are not satisfied honey." The voice said dejected.

There was another long pause and for a moment Allen thought that perhaps the voice would reverse the changes.

"I know how to fix this though sweetie." The voice said back with its normally bubbly gleeful tone "I'm going to upgrade you! Instead of just the ultra pink renewal I'm gonna give the the super duper prissy pinky-winky dolly-wolly ultra deluxe package! Free of charge!"

"What NO stop!" Allen screeched as the lights flickered and the pink hands returned and this time one held an pink ethereal syringe.

"Careful sweetie you are going to feel a few sharp pricks!" the voice echoed joyfully as Allen yelped and tried once again to escape from the ghostly hands.

The first jab went straight into his lips and immediately they started swelling to an unnatural size. Each one grew fatter and more swollen until Allen found his mouth pushed into a permanent pout but even then they didn't stop. Each lip was pumped with ghostly liquid until they were so fat and swollen that they no longer closed properly, giving him a dumb bimbo pout. Allen yelped as his cheeks were pricked and they started to feel fuller. Allen could barely see but his face felt fuller as his cheeks swelled and his face felt tighter. Soon Allen's cheeks lost their natural contours and instead look bloated, overly plump, and shiny, with a swollen appearance even when he wasn't emoting. Allen cried as he felt hundreds of sharp pricks all over his face, he winced in pain but soon found it harder to move the muscles in his face as it was slowly filling with botox. Each prick injected more until his skin was tight, shiny and barely moved even with the vast distress Allen was feeling.

When the hands finally retreated Allen felt the tears return to his eyes as he no longer had his face, no longer did he have the cute femme face but now he had once bloated and filled to the brim with chemicals making his face look cheap, plastic and fake. Allen wanted to cry but his face barely moved.

"Pweathe thtop thith now... I'm begging you..." A squeaky voiced Allen said to the hands and he winced in embarrassment as he heard how distorted his speech was now thanks to his now plastic face and swollen lips.

Allen wanted to protest but the hands had already moved onto their next target as they grabbed onto his chest and started to squeeze painfully!

Allen felt his former pecs begin to grow and inflate, but this time they weren't growing with muscle. Inside his chest two very large pectoral implants were expanding and growing, each one getting bigger and bigger until they no longer fit into the pink hands. However, that didn't stop the hands from squeezing as each implant grew rounder and started to push out the crop top until it strained against the growing man tits. Allen was now weeping as his chest grew larger until the two unnatural mounds resembled breasts more than pectorals and hung heavy on his chest and threatened to become exposed as they outgrew the white top.

"Pweathe... I don't want titth, I'm a man... thtop it, wet me go..." Allen squeaked but the hands ignored him as they pulled at his outfit and squeezed and touched his body.

The crop top quickly turned pink and changed into a crop vest that now gave Allen much more support for his large man tits that jiggled in front of him. The daisy dukes turned pink and turned into tiny slutty athletic shorts that hugged his body, a body that has now become much softer as a small layer of fat covered any muscle he had left making him seem more doll like and curvy. Then shoes disappeared and were replaced with pink flip flops so he petite little feet were exposed, while each of the nails were painted a pink that matched his outfit.

"Pweathe!" Was all Allen was able to say before he started to sob, as the hands continued their work. The syringe returned and jabbed itself into his forehead and Allen felt his frown slowly disappear. He wanted to look sad, distressed unhappy but his face was now so paralysed with botox that he lost all expression! In fact it almost looked like he was happy!

The hands then grabbed the much smaller weaker Allen and turned him to the side. Then was a loud crack the hands spanked his ass. Allen yelped and cried but not as much as when he saw his ass cheeks begin to inflate and grow. With every hard spank his ass cheeks grew larger and rounder, not with fat, not with muscle but with the same ghostly material that now filled his pecs. Each of his ass cheeks expanded until they were the size of a basketball and they jutted out unnaturally like a shelf. Allen stared in disbelief and he was reminded of the ass he saw earlier in the day. Allen hung his head as he finally realised why this was happening to him and why Felicity had brought him here, she was never going to save him she had caused this.

As if on the cue the lights flickered, the hands disappeared and Felicity ran out of the back room.

Felicity squealed with glee and quickly embraced Allen. His girlfriend was now several inches taller than him and he had never felt so small and vulnerable before.

Allen tried to push Felicity off him but it was much more of struggle now that he was much smaller and weaker, his huge tits jiggling as he tried to step back from the woman that had betrayed him and turned him into a freakish mini ken doll.

"Oh Ally you look so fabulous! Love these tits! You were always more of an ass man though!"

"Get off me! Pweathe... you have to change me back... pweathe I'm thorry for what I thaid but you can't keep me wike thith!" Allen squeaked as he dried the tears from his eyes. He turned and looked at his reflection at the caricature he had become, his face was full of plastic and no longer could he pull any expression, his lips so swollen that he was always pulling a slutty pout. His body doughy, weak and small, something that could easily be overpowered and dominated even by his former girlfriend. The new fake ass and tits that now bounced and wobbled with every movement eclipsing any masculinity he had left. All made worse by his revealing pink outfit and accessories that screamed to everyone who looked at him that he was a flaming homosexual.

"Oh babe don't get upset! Please don't worry. It's all going to be alright follow me!" Felicity said with concern in her eyes as she grabbed Allen's now much smaller feminine hands and dragged him towards the exit.

While the hands above him hovered and the ghostly voice echoed "Ass man?"

Allen suddenly felt the pressure on his plump fake behind grow as each cheek once again began to grow. The once plump rounded cheeks swelled dramatically as layer after layer of thick filler and fat was pumped in, ballooning outward until each massive globe reached the absurd size of a large yoga ball. The skin stretched painfully tight and shiny across the enormous, perfectly round spheres, giving them an unnatural, plastic looking gloss. Deep, unnatural cleavage formed between the two gigantic cheeks, which sat unnaturally high and protruded so far backward that Allen’s lower back arched dramatically just to stay balanced. Walking became a humiliating waddle; the heavy, jiggling orbs slapped together with every step, the sheer weight making his narrow, weakened legs tremble. From behind, his silhouette was cartoonish, a tiny waist flaring into two massive, fake, yoga-ball-sized cheeks that dominated his entire lower body, the sides spilling outward in wide, shelf-like projections that made sitting almost impossible without them spreading and bulging obscenely.

Yet, Allen had no time to react to his massive ass as he was pulled into the evening air by his former girlfriend and over to a huge hulking scary man dressed all in leather and leaning against a motor cycle.

"Ally I want you to meet Ramrod. He is the head of the The Bitch-Splitters gang and they have been looking for a new member to play around with."

Allen was terrified as he looked at the monstrous tattooed man, who smiled at Felicity and then growled and sneered at him. The look in his eye was pure cruel lust as Allen saw the huge bulge in Ramrod's leather pants grow and twitch. The massive 10 inch cock fully on display in such tight leather pants. "Fuck she is perfect, the boys are gonna love fucking an ass that size and I bet them lips will feel fucking great when their tickling my balls."

Allen turned to Felicity his eyes wide with fear "Pweathe don't make me go wiff him... Fewithity!"

Ramrod then grabbed Allen by the hips and spun him around, shoving his face down over his motorcycle. Allen’s enormous, overfilled cheeks spread apart naturally from their sheer size and weight, the deep, tight cleft between them already glistening. Ramrod slapped one giant globe hard, watching it wobble like jelly. "Fuckin’ hell… these things are ridiculous," he laughed, gripping the bloated cheeks and then spanking them hard and making Allen yelp.

Allen whimpered through his plump, cock-sucking lips as the massive biker lined up his thick, bulge against the fabric where Allen's tiny, virgin hole and started to grind. "Please… I’m thtraight—" Allen tried to beg, but it came out as a pathetic, lispy whine. Ramrod didn’t care as he landed another hard smack on the massive cheeks. Ramrod snarled, gripping the sides of the ridiculous yoga ball cheeks like handles and using them to pull Allen up. He reached forward, shoving two thick fingers into Allen’s overfilled mouth, stretching those puffy lips even more. "Suck. That’s all that mouth is good for now." Tears ran down Allen’s flushed cheeks as Ramrod lifted him with ease and put him on the back of his bike. Allen's ass looked obscene as Ramrod drove him and the bitch-splitters newest toy to the clubhouse, where he would thoroughly used and abused for the rest of his days.

While Felicity smiled and waved, glad that there was one less bigot in the world and one more fat booty slut to keep the bitch-splitters out of trouble, all 47 of them.

[mystrangetfs]

Big bubbles - AI image sequence - Muscle growth

Edward just finished his phone call and rubbed his eyes with frustration, the deal was supposed to have gone through but something had spooked his clients and now they were dragging their feet. Edward has spent months, working long nights and days to get everything right and close the biggest business deal of his career, but now it could all be over and all the stress, hard work and dedication would be for nothing. Suffice to say Edward look stressed as he walked along the beach, hoping the sea air would help clear his thoughts and calm him down he walked in a hurry. That's when he was approached and a cold, pink can was waved in front of him.

"Hello Sir. Would you care to try our new drink 'Big Bubbles'. It's big peach flavour, combined with its big fizz leaves customers smiling, happy and so satisfied that they can barely think about anything else!"

The man in front of Edward holding the can was gorgeous, his smile was effortless, his eyes bright, his jaw defined, his hair with perfect curls and a muscular body that made Edward envious. If he wasn't wearing such a ridiculous pink uniform, Edward would have sworn he was a model. Finding the man's handsome face and body a little intimidating Edward's eyes fell to the can held towards him and then to the little cart packed with similar rows of the drink. The lewd peach logo and garish pink instantly put Edward off, Edward put his hand up to decline but the man from Big bubbles continued to hold out the can and speak.

"You look stressed sir, here take it! No charge." The man smiled and even though Edward was straight he found himself a little flustered.

"Er, Thank you young man. That's very kind of you." Edward mumbled and took the can as he would feel like an ass if he declined a free drink.

"No problem sir! And if you like it please promise to come back and see me for more!" The man smiled gleefully, his demeanour polite and warm, the perfect sales representative.

Edward took the cool can of Big Bubbles and started walking, it was a hot day and perhaps the taste would take his mind off things. Edward opened the can and the sweet scent of peach wafted out with a fizz. Edward then gingerly took a sip as he continued walking alongside the beach. The man had been right about the big flavours and fizz as the bubbly sugary drink coated his taste buds. The taste was almost too sweet but the cool temperature of the peachy liquid was just too refreshing to stop drinking it, so Edward continued to sip at it as he walked.

Edward found his mind going in circles as he went through all the ways he could save his business deal or the mitigating things he could do to so that his hard work was not all for nought. However, as he walked he found it harder and harder to focus on the stress of his deal, the future seemed too far away to think about and instead he found himself looking to the beach and thinking about taking a swim. Edward shook his head and stopped, he took the last sip of his drink and placed it on the low wall beside him and rubbed his eyes again, trying to focus. Edward knew that he should be thinking about ways to convince his clients to proceed, to think of other strategies to make his money back or other potential clients he could sell to at a discounted rate but his brain refused to proceed any further down those trails of thought. Edward was starting to worry as suddenly his body started to get hot.

Edward quickly took off his jacket and pulled at his collar in an attempt to reduce the overheating his body was going through but, the warmth only seemed to increase as he body started to sweat. Edward started to panic, was he ill? He looked around him but found no one near, he was just about to reach for his phone when his whole body tightened and a sudden euphoric surge raced through his whole body from his head down to his toes.

Edward's breath caught in his throat for a second as the wonderful pleasure raced across him before leaving him gasping for breath as his body started to tingle. Edward then felt all of the muscles in his body grow tight, stopping him from moving. Edward wanted to shout as his muscles kept him paralysed but his voice wouldn't respond, even when his muscles loosened. It was like Edward had tensed every muscle in his body and then relaxed them, except when he had relaxed his little belly didn't look so big, his shirt felt tighter around his arms and his feet felt cramped in his shoes.

Edward looked down at himself confused he could have sworn his belt felt tighter and the wall next to him seemed further away. Edward would have contemplated it longer if the same sudden surge of pleasure hadn't raced through his body again, causing all of his muscles to contract and then once again relax. This time Edward knew something was wrong as he looked down his belly no longer poked at his shirt and as he felt it, he didn't feel the softness he was used to. The shirt he wore was now tighter across his chest as what looked like pectoral muscles pushed against the fabric, but that was impossible. Edward had never worked out or been to the gym, yet as he looked at his shirt he could see biceps starting to push through and he felt stronger, taller, fitter. Edward shifted uncomfortably in his shoes that now felt too small and adjusted his belt to try and feel less constrained. What in the world was happening to him?!

Edward knew he needed to call for help, something was wrong and he could be in danger. Edward had always been calm in a crisis and his fast thinking meant he was great at adapting, it's what made him a great business man but as he looked down at his larger more swollen body his brain just seemed to buzz and thoughts seemed muddled. After a few seconds Edward finally went to reach for his phone in his jacket, that he has dropped after the first surge but before he could even start to bend down his whole body tensed and the euphoric waved rolled through him again.

When Edward was allowed to relax he heard the ripping of fabric as his body and his muscles grew even larger. Edward could feel his back muscles bulging, his shoulders broaden and his chest inflate. A button popped off from his shirt as his pecs grew larger and pushed outwards, while a rip formed along the back as his growing arms pushed the fabric to the limit. Edward could feel how tight his trousers were around his muscular thighs, they felt different from the chubby legs he had moments ago but still they rubbed together. Edward winced in pain as he quickly kicked off his shoes, his feet far to large to fit in them. Edward could feel the energy inside him building again, he knew he should be worried that something was wrong, he was reaching for his phone wasn't he? But something in his brain clouded again and while he knew he needed his phone to call for help, it was hard to think what he would say and what number did he need to call? Edward would have been worried about his constant blurred thoughts if he wasn't again suddenly overwhelmed with the delightful pleasure as his body tensed once again.

When Edward relaxed and he gasped for air, his deep ragged breaths were joined by the ripping of his clothes. It started when his socks burst open as he feet grew longer and larger. His trousers ripped as the fabric became too stretched as he grew taller, his legs bulkier with muscles and his thighs thicker and stronger meant the rest of his trousers were barely hanging together. Buttons popped one after the other as Edward's larger bouncy pectorals burst through, the open shirt then revealed his toned, sculpted six pack abs as well as the deep v cut. Edward tried to move his arms but it only made his shirt rip further as his hefty triceps and cannon ball biceps caused the remaining fabric of the shirt to groan. Edward's brain hurt as he struggled to comprehend what was happening to him, he was taller, stronger and bursting with muscles. Edward knew he should be scared and that he needed medical attention but a new part of him, one emerging from the cloud in his brain told him to look at his muscles more closely, to admire how big his chest was, how manly his arms were and how cool his new height was. Edward tried to focus his thoughts back to panic and fear but it was getting harder to do.

He needed help, he needed to know what was happening before the next sur-

It was too late, Edward found himself moaning in pleasure as the surge raced through his body as his new muscles contracted and then relaxed growing even further. This time his clothes stood no chance as the tattered rags fell from his body. Edward even found himself shaking off the remainder of his clothes to free himself from the restricting tightness, leaving him in only his underwear. Edward was shocked as he looked as his massive muscles, his larger broad chest and back, his massive thick as redwood tree thighs and legs, his sculpted marble abdominals and his strong, veiny biceps. He had to have grown at least a foot in height and his feet and hands had grown to match. He looked like a god amongst men and a new part of him was thrilled about it, it told him to be prideful and gleeful as he looked at the new muscles and body. Edward was more than frightened now as he shook those vain thoughts from his head, he needed to get help but how was he going to do that? He needed to work out what was going on, but who could help him? Edward knew he should know the answer to those questions but his mind kept getting lost in a fog and only returned with thoughts of his own muscular body. Edward whimpered as he looked down at his body and like a lost puppy he stood helplessly looking around for help, his own mind refusing to find the answers.

Edward's eyes then caught sight of something as he looked at his new huge body, he looked past his perky pectorals and noticed his underwear. The light peach colour was unfamiliar to him, they felt too tight and more revealing, staring down at them Edward saw the little peach logo on the side, he saw the words 'Big bubbles' emblazoned on them, this wasn't right. Edward closed his eyes and thought hard, he didn't own any underwear that colour, he had put on boxer shorts this morning, loose and airy with no words one them! They weren't his underwear! Edward then looked from his underwear to the can of peach drink sitting on the wall beside him and finally Edward made the connection through the fizzy peach fog in his brain.

It was the drink! It was responsible for his new muscles and also for his slowing brain! Edward cursed himself that it took him so long to work out what was causing the changes to his body and mind, however this only made it more urgent that he get help. Yet, a new part of his brain told him to go back to the man that had given him the drink, perhaps he could help him and change him back! Part of Edward knew that it was a foolish idea as the rest of him told him to dive into the pile of clothes and find his phone and call for help, but every time he looked down he looked at his pectorals and then he thought of the man dressed in his pink uniform and his hairy pectorals poking through his shirt. Edward knew he shouldn't but his body had already started walking, walking back to the Big Bubbles stand to get help.

Leaving his clothes, leaving his phone, leaving everything he had on him Edward started walking back to the man who had given him the can of drink.

Edward barely made it a few feet before he found himself moaning like a whore as the same surge of pleasure rushed through his body to every muscle. This time the surge was so strong it caused Edward's body to shake, throwing his glasses from his face and causing all of his muscles to ripple. Edward could feel his muscles growing again as they continued to ripple, tensing and then relaxing over and over while Edward was left standing paralysed. Edward knew something else was changing but his brain couldn't work out what.

While Edward's muscles continued to grow larger all over his body something else began to change as well. It started from the top of his body where his salt and pepper hair started to lighten, each strand becoming a vibrant bright yellow, more hair sprouted, growing his hair until it was thick and blond. Then his face began to tingle as the deep lines of age smoothed out, each wrinkle fading away as his skin was pulled taut, the youth rushing back to his features as his skin became, clear, soft and bouncy. The muscles that bulged from his body grew larger and the skin across them tightened making them seems bigger and more defined. Edward looked down and noticed just how massive his chest looked now as his perky nipples poked out from his pillowy pectorals that made it impossible to see his own feet. As Edward regressed further his skin appeared softer and more elastic, the definition of his now eight pack abs looked incredible and his arms were now so thick with muscles that they could no longer sit by his side comfortably but instead bulged outwards. His thick powerful legs so stacked with muscle would now give him a bodybuilder's waddle, while his new height left him towering over everyone. Edward found his posture straightening as the lower back pain faded away, the slight ringing in his left ear disappeared and the twinge in elbow was gone. When the rippling stopped Edward was left radiating with the body of a 21 year muscle god in his prime!

Edward's mind took a few moments to catch up as Edward felt his younger face and experienced his youth again, his first thought was sheer panic as his mouth dropped open in shock.

Edward's mind was in a frenzy, how would he continue to conduct business looking like this? How would people recognise him? How was this possible? How tall was he now? How crazy did his massive biceps look? How hot was this huge chest? Could he bounce each pectoral if he wanted? Where was a mirror so that he could flex?

Edward tried to hold on and grasp the initial, rational thoughts of panic but they were soon drowned out with admiration for his own body and soon Edward stood smiling and flexing his pecs.

Edward lost track of time as he stood and flexed his muscles, a dumb laugh would occasionally slip through as he looked at how jacked and toned he was. It was only when a passing couple looked at him strangely that his brain started to exit the fog it has been in.

Edward wanted to scream as he pulled himself out of the peachy fizzy fog that clogged his neurons and slowed his brain, this wasn't him! He was a smart, talented businessman. An experienced and respected professional not some lump of muscle that could barely string a thought together! Edward found himself closing his eyes so that he couldn't be distracted by his own muscles, the peach drink had already clouded so much of his mind that it was insanely hard to think. Knowledge of his business, his deals, his job was all lost behind the fizzy peach bubbles that filled his mind. Edward tried to focus on what to do, but it seemed that not only his business brain had been clouded. Edward struggled to think of the words he needed, he struggled remember who his friends were, what school he went to do and even why he was here on the beach! Edward just knew that he needed help that this wasn't what his body was supposed to be and he focussed on that. He was older and a businessman, he knew that fact and needed to hold onto it although he couldn't remember how old he was and what business he dealt in. Edward opened his eyes and saw his big chest and his peach underwear, 'Big Bubbles' that was where he needed to head. The man with the drinks would help him get old again! Edward started running he knew he was running out of time, he knew he wasn't as smart as before and the handsome peach man could help.

As Edward ran he was aware of a large weight bouncing behind him and his glutes started to feel tingly. Edward just found himself giggling before shaking his head and focussing on the peachy soda man and how he would turn him back. So with each big step Edward ignored the growing swelling coming from his buttocks, he was unaware that each of his cheeks has grown much, much larger. Each one ballooned with muscle and strained at the tiny peach underwear, each one wobbled and swayed with each step leaving his ass impossibly juicy, jiggly and strong. When Edward finally saw the soda man, each of his ass cheeks has grown bigger than his own head and now hung like a shelf off his lower back.

"You... have... to... help... me.." Edward shouted as he ran out of breath towards the handsome Big bubbles salesman.

"Woah slow down big guy!" The handsome soda man said calmly with a big smile on his face. "You look hot and tired, here why not have a drink to cool you down!" The man then held up another can of Big Bubbles soda towards Edward, the smile on his handsome face turning ever so slightly sinister.

Edward stopped and tried to catch his breath, he did feel hot and tired, his mouth also felt very dry, but wasn't there a reason he was coming to this man for help. Edward stood and looked at the good looking man who now seemed tiny compared to his own massive body. Edward couldn't help but compare his own boulder like biceps to the soda man's, they looked so small. Edward couldn't help but flex his arms and smile. Why did he need that man's help when he was already way more muscular than him? Edward fought hard against the fog in his brain but he found himself losing ground, he wasn't here to get help about his muscles from the man, he needed help for another reason. Edward was screaming at the back of his mind, through the growing fog that he needed his body back, he needed his smarts, he needed his life back but each shout became nothing back a dull whisper as his body just stared at the man holding the can of soda in front of him. Edward started screaming wildly in a frenzy in a desperate hope that his body would understand and do the right thing. IT'S THE DRINK THAT CAUSED IT! IT'S THE DRINKS FAULT! IT'S THE DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!DRINK! The peachy fizzy cloud quickly engulfed Edward's mind as the last echoes of his voice reached his consciousness.

"It's the drink! I need a drink!" Edward's body said proudly while his mind screeched 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'.

Edward's enormous mitt grabbed the can and opened it with ease and poured the sweet fizzy liquid down his throat quenching his thirst and causing the peachy bubbles to fully engulf his mind. The peachy fog drowned out Edward and drowned out all of his thoughts until only basic, simple ones could survive. Edward's face fell slack as all intelligence drained from his eyes and soon a thin layer of drool started to drip from his lips. The familiar surge of euphoria then raced through his muscles and caused his monstrous body to shudder and let out a dumb chuckle. The soda salesman could only smile with glee as he watched Edward's chest and ass swell with an enormous bloat of muscle. His ass cheeks grew into round plump globes the size of beach balls, each one barely contained by his big bubbles underwear, while his pecs grew just as large if not bigger. The two massive muscles hanging from his chest soon dominated his whole physique, becoming impossible to ignore even for Edward who found himself bouncing them to amuse himself.

"There now don't you feel better. " The salesman said patting his new mascot on the back "Now you stand there and pop those pecs and tell everyone how great Big Bubbles is, can you do that big guy?"

Edward's mind was so slow that it took a minute for him to smile a respond. "Big Bubbles is the best, look at my big bouncy breasts!" Edward sung loudly and dumbly attracting the attention of a couple of gay men.

"Good boy! Now keep it up and you can drink as much as you want." The salesman said before turning to his new customers, while Edward stood and wiggled his fat butt and bounced his big himbo tits, while not a single thought swirled around in his fizzy peachy brain.

[asian-men-x]

[davidrodge-deactivated20230417]

“Avengers Disassembled”

Part 2 - Thunder

Brad munched on the his chips by the lakeside. The cool autumn air blew across the waters surface, scattering light in all direction. He didn’t mind the cold all that much, but he had been waiting here for well over four hours now and a chill had set in.

Brad had been trying to understand the power that he had been gifted. It was interesting how when he altered reality, the world shifted to make a new life for the person he had changed, but didn’t erase the other persons existence from history. Take Captain America for example. Brad had done the world a favor and turned that overly patriotic hero into a college himbo. Everyone now had memories of captain, or Carlos now as a flirtatious jock who was eager to show off his body to any dude who looked his way. But the old captain Americas identity still existed, and the avengers and the world were desperately trying to locate the former super soldier.

Brad shrugged, crumpling up his chip bag. Magic was pretty freaking weird. It had been very difficult getting a private message to the god of thunder without alerting the other avengers. It had taken rigging together a HAM radio, a NMR machine, and a Samsung Phone to send a decent broadcast into space. (Thank god for the weirdos on Asgardin Reddit.) He’d sent a message as a concerned citizen mentioning how he had seen something that looked similar captain americas shield discarded at the bottom of the lake. He had banked on the brash avenger not taking time to question why the hell someone would sent that message to Asgard and not say the police? The sky began to swirl and darken above brad. He nodded, crumpling up his chip bag. Looks like his work at paid off.

Thor descended from the sky In a multicolored blast of light that charred the reeds and the blue grass below. Brad stood up and rolled his eyes. Destroying the natural scenery, yet another reason the avengers were hella annoying. He put on his best concerned citizen face as the Asgardian prince strutted forward with a determined glint in his eye.

“You must be the mortal child who raised the alarm!” He said pointing at Brad. Brad clutched his hands together ,

“Yeah man! Dude thank goodness youre here! I was worried that you wouldn’t show up.”

Thor almost seemed to strike a majestic pose as he replied with a sincere smile, “I may be busy running a kingdom but I’m always happy to assist midgardians like yourself. Now if you could bring me to the man who you know as “Captain America” I would be grateful.” The mans voice reverberated over the lakeside.

Brad dropped his hands and smirked.

“Well Thor… There’s actually been a slight miscommunication man… I know where the captain is, in fact he wont stop texting me work out pics. I actually brought you here for a different reason.”

Thor frowned and lowered his brow. His hands tightening on his hammer.

“What do you mean Mortal? I came here to help a friend.” He looked brad up and down gauging his abilities. “ you should know that if this is some sort of trap, I’ve faced down mightier enemies than you child.” Brad shook his head. He was getting decently fed up of being put down by these hero’s. He could be a threat if he wanted to.

“What I mean man, is that I brought you here so I could help you. I know you’ve been through quite a few losses lately and I thought I could do both you and I a favor.” Brad said

Thors scowl deepened and he began to march forward.

“Listen well child, I do not take kindly to having my time wasted and my personal life shared,” a spark or electricity shot from his finger tips, “Either tell me where I can find the captain or I will start using this hammer as more than an accessory and I-“

*Snap*

Brad didn’t care to hear the rest of the hero’s speech and let a flash of light envelope him. Thor stopped mid step with a shocked look on his face. The world began blurring around the both of them. Same old, same old thought brad, enjoying the process before him.

Thors armor began to ripple and melt together as the changes began. His hammer dropped to the shifting ground and after trembling for a moment, dissolved into the floor. The once impressive chest plate he wore began to shrink down, changing material until it was a simple cotton, hugging his impressive body. His cape began to disappear in fragments, leaving behind faint red smoke.

Brad was both interested and concerned for a moment as he saw the god of thunders eyes glowing bright blue, almost as if he was resisting the changes. Brad squirmed, unsure of what he would even do if Thor somehow over powered him. Did Thor have magic powers or something? He wasn’t sure…He was grateful when the asgaridans glowing eyes fizzled out and a blank expression appeared on his face.

More and more of Thors clothing melted away, revealing his godly body. When his bare chest was finally exposed his skin began to darken. As every part of his former identity was stripped away, Thors body began to soften. Impressive muscles used for war and battle shifted into a physique built simply for looks and instagram likes. He shrunk down, losing 10 centimeters of height. His skin turned a rich dark brown, and the slight stubble on his chin became jet black.

Thors long, golden, gorgeous hair slowly retracted back into his head, the last bit evaporating away entirely, leaving a short buzz of thick black hair. Thors leg armor glided upwards, leaving behind smooth, bulging calf’s and thighs. The material shifted into a thin spandex, that reshaped into a low rising speedo. Thors butt ballooned outwards into to large globes of muscle; that almost overfilled his new underwear. His posture shifted as well, his impressive ass now being flaunted our while still displaying his impressive chest. Brad smiled again as the front of the speedo filled in to impressive proportions. Honestly he was doing Thor more of a favor than anything.

Brad eyed up his handiwork as the world started to come back into focus. No one would recognize the man before him as the former god of thunder. Thor was nothing more than eye candy. A man who was made to workout, fuck, and be loved by other men. The temperature of the air warmed and the world snapped back into focus. Brad blinked against the sunlight, the two men now stood at the side of a pool.

Thor, or Theo now looked into brads eyes. They now stood roughly the same height so it was easier for the new man to saunter forward and place a hand around brads waist.

“Hey baby,” Theo said in a deep lush voice. Before Brad could question much about the new reality he had created, Theo leaned forward locked his soft lips into a deep kiss. Brad gasped as Theo explored the inside of his mouth with tongue. Brad found his own arms wrapping around Theo as the two shared a passionate moment. Brad couldn’t believe how amazing his life was as he squeezed the former superhero’s huge bubble butt. Theo separated and grinned, biting his lip.

“Hey how about you go get changed into your swim suit so we can spend some quality time together yeah?” He reached forward and groped brads bulge through his jeans. Brad blushed and winked at the former god of thunder.

“Sure thing Theo”

With that turned and started heading for what looked like a Miami condo, he found himself incredibly excited to explore this new aspect of reality. Thor was better off this way. No cares, worries, or responsibilities. Brad glanced back at the new man, who was now chatting and posing for other pool goers. Brad quickened his pace to find a swimsuit, excited to find a swimsuit. Maybe the other avengers would have to wait…

[hudson-heatw]

[forthegaze123]

The bass thumped through the walls of the frat house like a heartbeat. The strobe lights pulsed across the crowded dance floor like broken hearts, casting everything in a hazy red and blue glow.

Jenna pushed through the sea of sweaty bodies, red solo cups sloshing in her hands. Her friends—loud, tipsy, already dancing in the corner—had vanished in the crowd. “I’ll be right back!” she’d called over her shoulder, but the house was chaos. The air smelled like beer, sweat, and cheap cologne.

She found a pocket of space near the middle of the dance floor and started swaying, letting the music pull her in. Her pink shirt clung tighter to her modest chest, her skirt brushing her thighs. She felt exposed but alive for the first time in months. Then a hand landed on her waist.

Big. Warm. Strong.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a low voice rumbled against her ear. “Dance with me?”

Jenna turned, ready to say no, but her eyes locked on his. Tall, broad-shouldered, chest like carved marble, sweat glistening under the party lights. He had that effortless jock swagger—confident, cocky, untouchable. Something in the way he looked at her made her knees weak. She nodded before her brain caught up.

"Woahhh... What are you..."

Then he pulled her close. Their bodies fit like they’d been made for each other. His hand slid down her side, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, then higher again, brushing the underside of her breast through her shirt. The touch was gentle but electric. Jenna’s breath caught.

“I—uh—I don't do this,” she started, but his thumb brushed her nipple and a soft moan slipped out. Her knees buckled. He caught her easily, one arm locked around her back, the other still roaming.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice dripping with that fake-smooth frat-bro charm. “Just feel the music.”

Jenna tried to shove him away. Her palms hit his rock-hard chest, but her hands stayed there, fingers curling into his skin instead of pushing. The contact burned. It was like her body wanted more. She hated it. She wanted to fight, to scream, to run back to her friends. But every time she tried, his touch softened, his breath ghosted her neck, and the resistance melted like ice in sunlight.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear. “So perfect.”

She shivered. “Who… who are you?”

“The name's Zac,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious fact in the world. “Been wanting to dance with you all night.”

His hand moved lower, cupping her ass, pulling her against the massive bulge in his shorts. Jenna gasped. Her hips jerked forward instinctively. She felt him—thick, hard, throbbing. The sensation made her clit throb in time with the bass. She should have been disgusted. Instead, heat flooded her core.

She shoved again. He didn’t budge. “Stop,” she whispered, but her voice cracked. “This isn’t—”

His other hand slid up her stomach, thumb circling her nipple through the thin fabric. She arched into the touch before she could stop herself. A fresh wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her mind flashed—briefly—to her old life: textbooks, late-night study sessions, the quiet apartment she shared with three other girls. Then it was gone.

Zac chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her chest. “Relax, babe. You’re doing great.”

His fingers dipped beneath her skirt. Jenna’s breath hitched. He wasn’t rushing—slow, teasing circles over her soaked panties, pressing just enough to make her hips roll against his palm. She could feel herself getting wetter, slicker. The music blurred. All she could focus on was his hand, the way he squeezed her ass, the way his other palm kneaded her breast, pinching her nipple until she whimpered.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmured, voice husky. “That’s my good girl.”

The words hit her like a drug. Good girl. She’d never been called that before. The thought made her pussy clench around nothing. She tried one last shove, palms flat against his abs, but her body betrayed her—she rubbed against his fingers instead, chasing friction. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” he whispered. “Just let it happen. Feel how good it is.”

The transformation started small. A faint tingle at the base of her spine, like static electricity dancing under her skin. Then her thighs trembled. Jenna looked down and gasped as her waist narrowed, then flared into a wide, powerful V. Her hips widened with a soft pop, bones shifting, muscle knitting in with audible creaks and groans. Her skirt stretched tight over new, muscular thighs. The hem rode up, revealing powerful calves and a thick, veiny cock already straining against her panties.

“Oh my God—is that...” she choked out, voice deepening into a smooth, masculine timbre.

Zac’s hands never stopped. He kept stroking her new ass, squeezing the growing muscle. “You’re almost there, James. Feel it, bro?”

She heard the name and it felt just right.

James.

It had always been James.

The old memories—girlhood crushes, shy study halls, the girl she’d been—were already slipping away like smoke. In their place bloomed new ones: college football, late-night keg stands, the thrill of hooking up with whoever wanted him.

Confident. Cocky. Untouchable.

Jenna—James—felt her chest tingle. Her breasts shrank, nipples tightening into sensitive buds that rubbed against his palm. She moaned at the sensation. “Urghhh... w-what’s happening?”

“You’re becoming perfect,” Zac growled, voice thick with lust. He was still behind her, still fully dressed, still hard as steel. He lifted her shirt, exposing the flat, striated abs she’d always admired in the mirror. Now they were his. Sweat-slicked, veined, rippling with every breath. He traced the ridges, then lower, hooking his fingers into her panties and ripping them aside.

The cool air hit her new cock—thick, veined, already leaking. Zac’s breath caught.

“Fuck. Look at you.”

He stroked the shaft, thumb spreading the precum. Jenna’s hips bucked. The name James felt like it had been carved into her soul. She could feel the new memories flooding in: how to high-five, how to flex for the camera, how to say “hell yeah” after a touchdown. Her brain rewired itself, faster than thought.

Her shoulders broadened. Arms thickened. Shoulders rounded into a square, powerful frame. Her neck thickened, jaw sharpening into a chiseled, masculine line. Short, dark hair sprouted on her head, falling messy and perfect. Her face—once soft and pretty—sculpted into something ruggedly handsome: high cheekbones, strong brow, full lips that could smirk like they owned the world.

The skirt was gone. Replaced by tight white athletic shorts that rode high on thick thighs and cupped the massive bulge at his crotch. Newly-made James stood there, fully transformed, a towering, sweat-glistened jock with ripped pecs, shredded abs, and arms like tree trunks.

Zac grinned, cocky and satisfied. “Damn, baby. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

The old Jenna was still in there somewhere—buried deep under layers of new memories, new desires, new confidence. But she was drowned.

"Brooo, of course I'm gorgeous as fuck. Those jocks and chicks literally beg to fuck me," James replied. He felt no regret, only the rush of power. Zac pulled him close, cock pressing hot and heavy against his thigh.

“It's my pleasure then. Ready for round two, stud?” Zac asked, voice dripping with promise. "I can't resist to try that tasty cock,"

James moaned, the new persona already taking over.

“Hell yeah, brah. Suck me hard will you?” he winked at his bro.

The party swirled around them, but neither of them cared. The transformation was complete. And James had never felt more alive.

[ijusttrash-deactivated20221118]

@goodmenpits —-You said that you were the typical twink. But not anymore. Looking down at your body you actually start to regret that wish you made. As you can already tell that several years have left your body. It all started just a week ago when you got yet another date rejection for being that stereotypical twink.

You sent a pic to the man you were messaging only to have him turn you down. Thinks were a dime a dozen now. Nothing special. You closed the app being disappointed in your own genetics. If you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life alone you was going to have to get lucky and find someone that wanted a twink for something more than a one night stand. You started searching online for nothing in particular. And that’s when you seen an add cross by. One of those that we’ve all seen before. “Change your life now!” In big red letter flashed and you didn’t mean to hit the click bait but it just popped up right when you were swiping away. Taking you to a random website that had an eerie feeling to it. And right before you was able to close the site down a chat popped up. “Sometimes we don’t know what we want until we say it out loud”. Was the only message that came through on the site. You stare at it not knowing what to think. You try to close it but the message has froze your phone. But you do the thing we have all done on site like that. You write your wish. Secretly hoping it comes true. But knowing that it won’t. And you write “I wish to not longer be a twink”. Your phone glitches a little and the site goes away from your phone as if it never was there. And you are able to just resume your random internet searches. Sure it was weird but that happens to every one right ? You were so so consumed in your phone that you didn’t even notice your feet getting slightly callused.

You fall asleep and when you wake up in the morning that’s when you start to realize that somethings wrong. Your iPhone had issues recognizing your Face and wouldn’t open so you had to use the passcode. But you looked the same as always didn’t you? You checked your messages in your dating app turned up nothing promising. You get out of bed and you back and other joints pop. That’s very odd for you as this never happens. And when you get to the bathroom you see that your complexion has gotten darker. You make a side note to start using some sun screen as your tan looks like it’s going to set in. You don’t even notice the lines forming in the corners of your eyes or beside you Jose as your quickly drawn to the door by a knock. A letter comes under the door and there it’s from the landlord saying that an inspection is coming this week. You busy yourself around the apartment cleaning up and getting the place ready for the inspection. If you do it now you won’t have to do it later. The whole time your body changing. Under your clothes. Without you knowing it. As the hair starts to grow in on your chest and a heavy 5 o’clock shadow sets in. You don’t even notice anything is going on. You look at your phone but notice now through the black reflection of the screen that you look different and you run to the bathroom. Darker hair had started to grow across your body and your hair is getting shorter and thicker. You start to panic but don’t even have time to register the panic before everything goes dark.

And here you are waking up on the bathroom floor. The next day. As the apartment has somehow gotten grungier. You pick yourself up off the the floor and notice the darker skin that has now taken over your body. And when you look in the mirror you look like someone else entirely. Older. A different race. Your ears have gotten bigger. Your nose wider and your hair even shorter and darker. You look down and see the dark hairs that now adorn your still muscular torso. And your feet have gotten even bigger and rougher looking. And your penis has exploding in side getting darker than any other part of your body. A bang comes at the door again and this time it’s the police. Demanding to know if the anonymous tip of illegal immigration is right. You start to respond in your much deeper raspier voice that it’s a lie but in the middle of this you start speaking go with a heavy Latin accent. Harder to understand every syllable you say abs soon even harder to understand the English that is spoke to you. They bust through the door and your taken into custody. You try to tell them that who you are but there nothing that you can do or tell them that makes them believe who you are. Instead you are finger printed and thrown into jail few a few days. Under the name of Francois Bagoda. And when you’re released you are released under that name. One that is t your is. But one you’re forced to use now as it’s the only one that fits your new body.

In jail your body continued to change. Getting darker. More muscular. Each moment ticking by taking you further away from that twink body. As you got older and more weathered looking. By the time you were released there was no way you ever pass for your old self. And now that you’ve somehow legally became Francois, you had to find a way to start life. And selling pictures of your naked older body is the quickest way to get cash right now. All the while your body keeps changing. When will it stop ?

[androphilestuff]