I woke up to the sound of the dorm shower shutting off and the heavy, wet footsteps of my roommate crossing the room.
Even the name still sent a dark little thrill through me every single morning.
He stepped into the main room still dripping, curly brown hair plastered in messy, damp ringlets across his forehead, that signature half-smirk already tugging at his full lips like he knew exactly how ridiculous he looked and didn’t give a single fuck. Water and sweat mixed on his skin, turning it into a glossy, golden map of muscle. Those heavy pecs rose and fell with each breath, the deep cleft between them shiny and inviting, dark nipples still tight from the cold water. His abs flexed and rippled as he towel-dried his hair, every ridge and cut standing out in sharp relief. The towel hung dangerously low on his hips, the thick root of his cock just barely hidden, the heavy bulge shifting with every step.
“Morning, nerd,” he rumbled in that deep, post-sleep baritone, voice still rough from sleep and the way he’d probably been moaning my name into his pillow an hour earlier. He caught me staring and flexed one arm lazily, watching the bicep peak and the veins stand out along his forearm. A bead of water traced down the curve of his pec, caught on the nipple, and dropped onto the floor. “You gonna keep eye-fucking me or you actually getting up today?”
I grinned, cock already thickening under the sheets. “What? I'm just appreciating the view. You look like you got run over by the protein truck again.”
Reece laughed, low and easy, and turned to grab his gym bag. The motion made those massive lats flare and that perfect bubble ass flex under the towel. He had no idea. No clue that a week ago he’d been my balding, beer-gutted, ranting homophobic father. No memory of the slurs, the lectures, the way he used to sneer at anything that wasn’t “normal.” All of that had been scrubbed clean by Chronivac.
Now he was Reece—my 22-year-old, 6'2", 225-pound bi jock roommate who thought we’d been sharing this dorm since freshman year. And he was mine in every way that mattered.
I waited until he left for his morning lift before I pulled out my phone and opened the app again. The interface glowed softly.
I scrolled through the categories I’d already tweaked and felt my cock twitch at the memory of how it had all started.
--------------------------------------------------------
What happened exactly? It had been last Friday night.
My dad—Robert—had shown up at the dorm unannounced, same sour expression, same gut straining against his polo, same receding hair and judgmental eyes. He’d taken one look at the rainbow flag sticker on my laptop and launched into the usual bullshit about “real men” and “phases” and how I needed to “fix my shit before it’s too late.”
I’d smiled, nodded, offered him the pull-out couch, and waited until he passed out drunk on cheap beer and self-righteousness.
I’d set the parameters with shaking hands and a throbbing dick.
Body Type: Competition-ready jock, low body fat, maximal muscle density, tanned skin, thick curly brown hair, handsome face with natural smirk.
I’d spent a long time on the body sliders.
Chest: +65% — heavy, rounded, deep cleavage, sensitive nipples.
Arms: 19-inch biceps, thick vascular forearms.
Abs: deep-cut 8-pack with sharp obliques.
Legs: tree-trunk quads, diamond calves, and an ass that would make grown men cry.
I previewed it and nearly came in my sweats at the render.
Cock & Balls: 8.5 inches soft, 10.5 hard, thick as a wrist, heavy low-hanging balls, constant precum production, high sensitivity, refractory period near zero.
Ass: Plump muscular bubble, tight when flexed but soft and greedy when relaxed, prostate hypersensitive.
Libido: Maximum. Always horny. Leaks easily. Gets hard from flexing, from being watched, from my voice.
Personality: Cocky, outgoing, gym-obsessed jock bro. Openly bisexual. Flirty with everyone. Secretly submissive and eager to please only around me—his “nerd roommate.” High confidence, zero homophobia, zero shame.
Awareness: Off. Full reality rewrite enabled.
Apply – Gradual Over 90 Minutes.
I hit that button. Then I sat in the dark and watched my father become my perfect roommate.
It started in his face. The snoring stopped for a second as the skin smoothed. Deep lines around his eyes and mouth faded like they’d never existed. His receding hairline surged forward, strands thickening, darkening, curling into those messy brown waves that now framed Reece’s face so perfectly. His jaw cracked softly and squared out, stubble reshaping into the light, sexy scruff that suited him. His lips parted on a sleepy sigh and settled into that permanent half-smirk. Even unconscious, he looked cocky and fuckable.
His neck thickened next, cords standing out, Adam’s apple more pronounced. When he mumbled something in his sleep it already sounded deeper, smoother, younger.
The chest was the part that made me pull my cock out and start stroking slow and tight.
Under the old polo, his soft tits began to swell. The fabric stretched with a quiet creak. I watched the shape change—fat melting, muscle packing on in heavy, rounded slabs. His nipples pushed outward, darkening, growing sensitive enough that even in sleep one hand drifted up and rubbed across the new chest. The polo rode higher and higher as the pecs inflated, the deep valley between them forming right before my eyes. Throb… pulse… stretch… I could almost hear the tissues remolding. By the time the changes slowed, two heavy, meaty pecs strained the fabric, the outline of those fat nipples obvious. A bead of sweat already glistened in the new cleavage.
His gut followed, shrinking fast. The beer belly caved in with wet, sucking sounds I felt more than heard. Skin tightened. Muscle carved itself into existence—first the top row of abs, then the lower ones, deep cuts appearing between each block until an 8-pack sat where the paunch had been. His waist pulled in, creating that sharp V that arrowed straight down to his crotch. The polo was now comically tight, seams popping one by one with tiny pop-pop sounds as his lats and chest kept growing.
Shoulders broadened with dull cracks, delts capping, traps rising. His arms inflated like someone was pumping air into them. Biceps rounded and split, veins rising to the surface in thick ropes. The sleeves of the polo shredded at the seams with satisfying rrriip sounds. He shifted in his sleep, one new massive arm flopping over the edge of the couch, and I had to bite my knuckle to keep from moaning out loud.
Lower body next. His legs lengthened slightly as height adjusted, then packed with muscle. Quads swelled against his pants until the fabric stretched shiny and thin. Calves hardened into diamonds. And that ass—fuck, that ass. It rose and rounded, cheeks firming and lifting into two perfect, muscular globes that pushed the seat of his pants to the absolute limit. Stretch… swell… clench… I watched the fabric ride up between the cheeks as they grew. He was going to have the kind of ass that looked obscene in anything he wore.
The crotch was last and the best. Even asleep, his body knew what was happening. His cock began to lengthen down one thigh, thickening visibly, the bulge growing and shifting. Throb… pulse… thicken… The head pushed against the fabric, forming a clear outline. His balls swelled into heavy, churning orbs that made the fabric tent. Almost immediately the high libido kicked in—dark wet spot blooming at the tip of the bulge as precum started soaking through. His hips twitched. A low, unconscious groan left his new deeper voice. I stroked myself faster, matching the rhythm of his growing cock.
Over the next hour the changes refined. Skin tone warmed and tanned. A light dusting of hair appeared across the new pecs and abs, just enough to catch sweat and make everything glisten. The old clothes morphed—polo and pants becoming a tight black tank and gray gym shorts that barely contained the new body. When he finally stirred and sat up, stretching those massive arms overhead, pecs bouncing and flexing, he looked exactly like the man now living in my dorm.
“Shit, I crashed hard,” he said in that new voice, rubbing his face. The smirk appeared naturally. “Did you just let me sleep on the couch like a fucking animal, bro?”
I played it cool even though my cock was still leaking in my hand under the blanket. “You looked comfortable. Rough night?”
He stood, and the new body moved like it had always belonged to him. Shoulders rolling, pecs shifting, that heavy cock swinging in the loose shorts. “Nah. Just lifted late. You know how it is.” He scratched his abs absently, fingers tracing the new cuts. “Gonna shower. You need anything before I head out?”
I shook my head, watching the way his ass flexed as he walked away. The reality rewrite had already settled. In his mind we’d been roommates since freshman. My dad had “taken a job out of state.” No one questioned it. No one remembered the old version except me.
And I made sure to enjoy every second of the new one.
Over the next few days I made small, delicious adjustments while he was awake and oblivious.
Tuesday afternoon he was in the middle of push-ups on the dorm floor, tank top soaked through, curly hair falling into his eyes. I sat at my desk pretending to study and opened Chronivac.
I watched as Reece's pecs swell right there on the floor. Each rep made them bounce heavier, fuller. The tank stretched tighter. His nipples, already sensitive from the first round of changes, darkened and pebbled visibly against the fabric. He grunted through the set, sweat dripping from his chin onto the deep cleavage.
“Fuck, pump’s insane today,” he panted, completely unaware that every rep was making his chest grow. By the time he finished, those pecs were noticeably heavier, the tank looking painted on. He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and caught me staring. “What? You like the pump too, nerd?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Looks good on you.”
He grinned that cocky grin and flexed both arms, then bounced his pecs deliberately. “These bad boys? Been growing like crazy lately. Must be the new protein shake.” He stepped closer, still breathing hard, musk rolling off him in waves. “You can feel these milkers if you want. Spotter’s privilege or whatever.”
I reached out and ran both hands over the hot, sweat-slick juicy muscle. They were so full now, so heavy, bulging under my fingers. When I brushed his nipples he let out a soft, surprised nnnghhh and his cock twitched visibly in his shorts. A tiny wet spot appeared at the tip. He didn’t even seem to notice.
“Sensitive today,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away. If anything he leaned into my touch, eyes half-lidded. That submissive streak I’d programmed was already showing. “Feels… good when you do it, though.”
I squeezed gently and watched his eyes flutter. “Yeah? Maybe I should spot you more often.”
He laughed, low and breathy. “You know what, maybe you should.”
By Thursday I’d added more. Bigger balls. Higher cum volume. Ass sensitivity cranked. And a little extra spice, whenever he was around me and horny, he’d start leaking steadily without realizing it. Reality made sure no one else noticed the wet spots or the constant bulge. Only I got to see how desperate he really was.
That night he came back from the gym looking like a hot mess—curly hair damp, skin glistening, chest pumped and shiny, that smirk in full effect. He dropped his bag, peeled the soaked tank off with a wet schlick, and tossed it aside. Those heavy pecs bounced free, nipples tight and dark. Sweat ran in rivulets down the deep cleft and over the carved abs. He caught me looking and didn’t even pretend to be shy.
“Shower’s all yours if you want it,” he said, but he didn’t move toward the bathroom. Instead he stepped closer, still in those low gym shorts that clung to his thick thighs and the massive, half-hard bulge. The wet spot at the tip was obvious now, fabric dark and clinging to the fat head of his cock. “Or… you could help me cool down first.”
I stood up. My own cock was already rock hard. “How do you want me to help, Reece?”
"Hmmmm, I don't know," He licked his lips, eyes flicking down to my bulge and back up. The cocky jock mask slipped just enough to show the hunger underneath. “Been thinking about your hands on me all day. That spot you gave me the other night? Fuckkkk. Couldn’t stop replaying it.” He reached down and adjusted himself, the thick length shifting heavily. A fresh bead of precum soaked through. “You make me so fucking hard lately, bro. Is that weird?”
I stepped in until our bodies almost touched. The heat rolling off him was incredible. “Not weird at all. I like it. You like it.”
His breath hitched when I ran my palms up his sweat-slick chest, thumbs circling those sensitive nipples. He groaned—deep, needy—and his cock jumped, another pulse of precum darkening the shorts even more. “Nngh—fuck, you're right, nerd. I like your hands…”
I leaned in and licked a stripe up the center of his chest, tasting salt and musk and pure jock. He shuddered, one big hand coming up to grip the back of my neck, not pushing me away but holding me there. I sucked one nipple into my mouth and he actually whimpered, hips bucking forward so that massive bulge pressed against my stomach.
“Bed,” I murmured against his skin. “Now.”
He went willingly, that big body dropping onto the mattress like he’d been waiting for the command. I stripped him the rest of the way and just stared for a second. The cock that sprang free was obscene—thick, veiny, ten and a half inches of throbbing meat, heavy balls drawn up tight, the head already shiny and leaking a steady stream. His ass flexed as he spread his legs for me, hole already twitching.
I took my time. Sucked that fat cock until my jaw ached and his moans filled the room. Schlick… slurp… gluck… He leaked constantly, sweet and salty on my tongue, hips rolling in little desperate circles. When I finally pulled off he was panting, curly hair sticking to his forehead, pecs heaving.
“Fuuuccckkk meeee,” he begged, voice rough. “Pleeeeaseee, roomie. Need it.”
I prepped him slow and thorough, two fingers, then three, watching his greedy hole swallow them. Every brush over his prostate made his cock jump and spurt more precum onto his abs. By the time I pushed inside him he was babbling—cocky jock talk mixed with desperate begging.
“Holyyyy shittt—yeah, stretch me out—FUCK, your dick feels so good in my ass—been wanting this all week—nngh, deeper, bro, please—”
I fucked him hard and deep, watching those heavy pecs bounce with every thrust, abs flexing, curly hair bouncing, that handsome face slack with pleasure. His cock slapped wetly against his stomach, smearing precum everywhere. The sounds were filthy—skin on skin, wet squelch of lube and precum, his broken moans, my own grunts. I reached down and stroked him in time with my thrusts and he came with a shout, thick ropes painting his chest, some landing on his own face and in his open mouth. His ass clamped down so hard I saw stars and followed him over the edge, pumping deep inside that perfect, twitching hole.
Afterward he lay there wrecked and gorgeous, cum cooling on his skin, chest still heaving, that lazy post-orgasm smirk back in place. He reached up and dragged a finger through the mess on his pec, then sucked it clean with a filthy little sound.
“Round two in ten?” he asked, already half-hard again.
I laughed, low and satisfied, and reached for my phone where it sat on the nightstand. Chronivac still open. I could already see the next tweaks I wanted—maybe make that cock even thicker, or add a little more submissiveness so he’d beg prettier, or turn up the nipple sensitivity until he could cum just from me playing with his chest.
Reece—my Reece—stretched like a big satisfied cat, completely oblivious, completely mine.
“Whatever you want, roomie,” I said, already sliding the sliders. “I’ve got all night.”
And I did. The Chronivac glowed. His body was already starting to respond again, cock twitching, nipples tightening, that perfect ass clenching in anticipation he didn’t understand.
The night was just getting started.
--------------------------------------------------------
Weeks blurred into the best semester of my life. Reece just being a perfect roommate for me in every single way. He's the perfect jock bro who somehow anticipated every need before I even voiced it. He’d wake up early to make me protein-packed breakfasts, shirtless and still sleepy, those heavy pecs swaying as he flipped eggs and hummed off-key. He quizzed me on lecture notes while doing sets of push-ups between my desk and the bed, his pumped chest glistening, that cocky smirk flashing every time I got an answer right. After long nights hunched over textbooks he’d pull me into his lap, big hands kneading the knots out of my shoulders and back until the massage inevitably turned filthy.
And you know the rest of it. He’d fuck me slow and deep right there in the desk chair, one arm braced beside my open textbook, the other stroking my cock in time with his thrusts, whispering encouragement between kisses until we both came in a messy, groaning tangle. And every single time he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world for a bi jock to dote on his stressed-out roommate like this. He had no idea how perfectly I’d programmed him to be exactly what I needed.
Exam week hit hard. I was a wreck—eyes bloodshot, shoulders locked, barely sleeping, stress radiating off me in waves. Reece noticed immediately. He didn’t push, just brought me extra snacks, left little encouraging notes on my desk like “You’re gonna crush it, roomie”, and gave me those long, grounding hugs that always ended with his hand sliding into my sweats for a quick, filthy handjob that left me boneless and a little less panicked. This morning he’d kissed the back of my neck before heading out, murmuring, “Text me if it gets too much. I’ve got you.” I thought that was it.
I was already sitting in class, and almost everyone had already left. One exam was over, and two more were left. I took a deep breath as my phone lit up with a message from him.
Hey stressed boy. Saw how tense you looked when you left. Figured my favorite nerd needed something to take the edge off before that exam. Don’t overthink it. You’ve got this. I’m so fucking proud of you.
Come home after and I’ll help you celebrate properly. Love you, bro 💪❤️🍆
I opened it with shaking hands, already half-hard from the tone alone.
“Figured you needed a reminder of what’s waiting for you when that exam’s over,” he rumbled, voice low and intimate like he was right there in the room with me.
“Been thinking about you all morning, roomie. How haaaarddd you’re working… how gooood you’re gonna look when you ace this shit.” He wrapped his big hand around the shaft and started stroking—slow, deliberate, wet schlick-schlick sounds filling the audio as more precum leaked steadily, dripping onto the tile between his feet. His balls hung heavy and full, swinging with every stroke.
"These are all pumped for you. Wish you were here so I could shove your face between them while you study.” His strokes sped up, the head of his cock flaring, the wet sounds getting louder and messier.
“Gonna cum for you right now, bro. Think about this load painting your chest later… or filling that tight ass after your exam. You deserve it. You’re gonna do so fucking good.” His breathing grew ragged, that handsome face tightening with pleasure, the cocky smirk melting into something raw and desperate. “Nngh—fuck—here it comes—FUCKKKK—watch me, roomie—”
Reece came hard, thick ropes of cum erupting across his abs and up onto those heavy pecs, some splattering his chin and lower lip. He kept stroking through it, milking every pulse, hips jerking, deep groans echoing in the locker room. When it finally slowed he brought the camera back up to his cum-streaked chest and smirked again, licking a stray drop from his lip.
“There. Now go crush that exam like the smart, sexy nerd you are. I’ll be waiting. Love you.”
The video ended on that smirk and those glistening, cum-covered pecs.
I set the phone down, took a deep breath, and turned back to my notes with a small, private smile. The exam suddenly felt manageable. And when it was over, I knew exactly who would be waiting—shirtless, smirking, already half-hard and ready to help me celebrate in the filthiest, most caring way possible.
Thanks to Chronivac, my annoying homophobic dad was nothing but a distant memory. In his place was Reece—my perfect, ridiculously devoted, best jock roommate ever who somehow always knew exactly how to take care of me.
And I was never letting him go.
theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
tangentwithtanner
dededos
titsay
origamiaround
gummygunk
