For a while, Jamie getting the chronivac was the most fun we ever had. We went from two bullied idiots to kings of the school. Look at him, he looked like he had taken insane amounts of roids, but that was just what he naturally looked like now. All the guys in the school we’re just thirsting for a lick of his alpha dick, something he had carefully made sure of. Not me though, I got lucky haha!
I, obviously, also got my upgrades. I always did have a bit of swagger hidden behind my previous nerdy identity, so I had no trouble picking up girls with my huge new body. The App had just let the butterfly out of the chrysalis.
Anyone who was annoying us? Turned into some sort of sex doll that wanted to have sex with us and our huge tanned bodies.
Mr Morrison, for example, was bothering us the other day on his class because we weren’t paying attention to the bronze age collapse or some shit. Jamie just pulled his phone, made some alterations and boom, this was Ryan Morrison now. Not a history teacher, but an anatomy one that lectured shirtless, in order to better help illustrate the body’s anatomy, of course. He also gave private lessons to his favorite student, Jamie, where he explored his anatomy further. Damn, I should have him do some shit like this to Mrs Gomez too…
It was all rainbows and sunshine for a while, but one day I think he got bored. We had already transformed and fucked half the school, and while I was content just living life like this, he wasn’t. I think some people are just never satisfied.
“Yo, Jamie, what you doing there? Any transformation ideas? I was thinking maybe we could genderswap some peop-“ I exclaimed, before getting quickly cut off
“Actually, Lex, I think I have a better idea. I think you’re going to be my next target.” He said, smirking coldly at me
“W-what? Dude, don’t play around like that! We’re in this together, right? I responded, trying to cover up the nervousness in my voice.
“No, actually. I’m the one with the app, I just happened to share my joy with you for a while. Now I think I’m gonna have some fun with you.” He said, pressing the enter button before I could react.
When I woke up, I couldn’t believe what he had done to me. I looked masculine, sure, but so fucking gay. I had shrunk down a whole foot, making my muscles insanely compact. I looked like some buffed up dwarf, hairy as fuck too. My cock was now tiny, probably the same reason why my butt looked like some kardashian’s. It ached, ached for Jamie. That fucking faggot, I can’t believe he did this to me. I’m so fucking horny. I need him. I sent him a photo, showing his work.
“Fuck you, now I need your dick inside my ass you asshat. If you made me a faggot, the least you can do is come and plow me with your cock.”
I quickly got an answer
“hahaha, i’m right outside babygirl, just come on out and i’ll help you out”
I opened the door, my brain too clouded with hormones to think about what the fuck I was about to do. I just know I need it.
Can you transform me into a muscular, hairy, dominant man, where I'm being changed without my consent and without realizing it at first?
When you got the notification that a package had arrived at your door, you were confused by the sleek black box sitting right outside your place. You didn’t remember ordering anything, and unlike most cardboard deliveries, this one had an expensive design. You carefully brought the strange package inside and opened it. Inside was a black-and-gold envelope resting atop a few expensive items. You knew it wasn’t something you would have ordered, but the address on the box was yours.
Picking up the envelope, you ripped open the flap and pulled out a black card with gold lettering. There was a scent to the note, almost as if it were lightly spritzed with some cologne or perfume. The note didn’t offer much explanation, either about what this box was for or why it was sent to you.
From Your Secret Admirer. A Self-Improvement Box.
On the back was a scribbled phone number, clearly handwritten by whoever sent the strange gift to you. You tried calling it a few times, but whoever was on the other end didn’t seem to bother picking up. Texting the number yielded no response either, and you were left stumped about what to do with the surprise gift sitting on your kitchen table. Before you could decide anything, you looked more closely at the items inside. There seemed to be a bottle of cologne, a dark liquid glimmering back at you inside the glass. There was also a sleek signet ring, although you weren’t exactly someone who really bothered dressing up or wearing jewelry. And finally, perhaps the most expensive of the three items: a smartwatch. It looked quite minimalistic in design, like one of those fitness watches you would see on a fitness influencer or athlete to track their physical progress. And while it was tempting, you still weren’t exactly convinced that this box was meant for you.
You sighed as you picked up the smartwatch, admiring its fancy design. The metal felt cool and smooth, and for a moment, you entertained the idea of having something like it. Even if you weren’t going to use the items from the strange gift box, it didn’t hurt to imagine what it would be like. Slipping the smartwatch over your wrist, you found yourself enjoying its weight. It might have been great in another life, but right now it didn’t fit your personal aesthetic.
As you moved to remove it, you were surprised to find the device properly latched to your wrist. You grunted as you tried to pull off the new piece of techwear, but it didn’t budge. The strap stayed tight; it wasn’t uncomfortable, but the watch wouldn’t move, no matter how hard you tried. Resigning yourself to the gift, you sighed and left it alone. Not wanting to deal with the weirdness, you closed the box and set it aside, hoping to forget about it. Whoever sent it clearly meant it for someone else, and it was best not to touch another item that wasn’t meant for you.
The rest of your day went by uneventfully. You had a few errands to run, but thankfully, you still had the whole weekend before work. As you went about your tasks, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that you were more energized and invigorated. By the time you got home, you felt an extra bounce in your step, like you could run a mile or two. Glancing down at your new smartwatch, your eyes widened at the tracked steps. You certainly got a lot done today, and the light whiff of sweat from your pits told you as much. Once home, the change felt even harder to ignore.
Making your way to the shower, you found it a bit more difficult to pull off your clothes. Maybe it was the sweat making them stick to your skin, but you couldn’t help twisting and turning your shoulders as you tugged your shirt off. Leaving your clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor, you cast a quick glance at your naked body in the mirror. There were glimpses of definition there, and flexing your biceps showed off some nice peaks. You didn’t pay much attention to it, though, just posing as if it were natural. The last thought you had was that your gym workouts were really starting to show, even though you had forgotten it had been some time since you had even set foot in a gym.
It had been some of the most restful sleep you had ever had that night. The shower was soothing, and you practically dreamed of the slippery sensation of soap bubbles sliding down your back. When you blinked open your eyes, the first thing you noticed was that you seemed much lower than normal. Swinging your thick legs off the side, your large feet thumped along the floor. It seemed that your bed frame had broken again, but this was a common occurrence for you. You struggled to find something that could hold all of your muscular weight. For now, you would have to leave the indented mattress on the floor until you figured out something else. You sighed as you stood to your towering height, ducking your head under the doorframe out of habit. From there, you headed toward the bathroom.
Lumbering toward the bathroom, you raised your hands to scratch and rub at your meaty pecs. It was always a welcome sight to wake up and see such a delicious view each morning, with the valley between your pecs leading down to a chiseled set of abs. Of course, cutting and bulking routines were practically second nature at this point, as your physique was something you put your whole life and soul into. You positioned yourself in front of the mirror once more, your naked body on full display. Sleeping naked was really the only comfortable way for you to get good rest now. Clothes always felt restrictive, particularly when they did very little to conceal your hefty, sizeable bulge. A stray hand slid down to fondle your swaying cock as you admired your physique. It had become a bit of a morning routine, with your admiration for the hard work you put into your body.
A soft beep from your smartwatch reminded you of the brunch you were getting later with some friends. Grateful for such a convenient device, you rarely took the watch off. It felt like second nature to have it on you. As you washed up and prepared for the day, you reached over to grab some cologne to spray on. Your hands found an unfamiliar bottle, practically unopened, with the amount of black liquid still inside. Before you even had a chance to register what was happening, you applied a few quick spritzes to your chest and neck. The smell was rich, dark, and musky, like bergamot mixed with leather. Your eyes widened as your brain began to register the bottle in your hand. It came from that strange box you found yesterday, though you didn’t remember taking it out and setting it in your bathroom.
Your brows furrowed at the strange mystery, but the beeping alarm from your smartwatch quickly interrupted you. You didn’t have time to think about that now; you’d have to deal with it when you got back home. Hurrying out of the bathroom, you turned to the side to let your boulder-sized shoulders and wide back through without bumping the frame. Throwing together a quick, easy streetwear outfit, you took a moment to admire how the clothes clung to your skin. The shirt was almost a crop top, so small, and you could practically see the seams starting to rip. One simple bicep flex and it would burst into a flutter of tattered fabric. Ignoring your intrusive thoughts, you hurried out the door, leaving behind a deliciously thick scent.
Meeting up with your friends was always enjoyable, and you were glad that everyone had enough free time to grab a meal together and catch up. Today seemed a bit off, though, as more than one person kept complimenting the way you took care of your facial hair or how nice a tan you had. You weren’t really sure why they were so hung up about that. Your skin was a rich caramel tone, covered with a healthy dusting of coarse, dark hair. When you first met your friends, you had told them about your summers in Pakistan visiting family. The facial and body hair was an absolute must for you; there was no way you were ever shaving it off, especially when it was part of your manly, masculine appeal. While people kept pointing out the obvious, you noticed how one of your friends seemed particularly infatuated with your scent. He made small comments about how nice your watch looked or how the new cologne really suited you. His attention made the whole outing feel more charged.
He hadn’t been someone you had noticed before, really, but even you couldn’t deny the way his eyes lingered on the dark hair peeking out from under your shirt sleeve, leaving very little to the imagination with the growing sweat stain under your pits. The summer sun wasn’t exactly kind to your darker complexion as you all sat outside, and you could feel the top of your head grow warm under the rays. But a quick wipe on your forehead with the back of your hand, and you were back to catching up with your friends about what they had been up to. By then, the moment had settled into the afternoon.
Brunch ended rather uneventfully, with a few promises to meet up again soon. Your smaller friend seemed to linger back to give you a hug goodbye, and you couldn’t help but notice how his head seemed to slip up between your pecs comfortably, like a missing puzzle piece finding where it belonged. You offered him a strong, hearty squeeze, making sure to press his slim frame up against all your heat. The other man squeaked in surprise at the feeling of your flexed muscles pressed up against his backside, and he scurried away just as frantically as he appeared. Shaking your head in amusement, you scratched at your hairy chest as you made your way back home. It was finally time to just kick back and relax.
With nothing else planned for the day, you began peeling off the sweaty clothes and tossed them to the side for you to deal with later. Flopping down on the couch naked, you could still catch a whiff of the dark cologne you sprayed on this morning. Mixed in with your natural musk, the scent was actually quite overwhelming. The spiced scents flooded through your nostrils, and your eyes rolled back at the rather intense smell that rattled your brain. Dazed in the moment, your head lolled to the side to stare out at your coffee table.
There, perched upon the glass, was that simple black box. Before, you didn’t want a single thing to do with it. You hadn’t even had time to look into who it might actually belong to. But now, there seemed to be this strange pull that enticed you closer. It was like your body was moving on autopilot, with you, a passenger, watching a movie. As you pulled back the box lid, you saw the note with the phone number lying inside next to a signet ring. Pulling out both objects, you felt a sensation in your chest that made you focus more on the ring.
It was a simple, golden band with a nicely designed crest on top. It certainly looked expensive, which fit your style perfectly. Without much thought for anything else, you slipped it onto your pinky. The new piece of jewelry made things begin to click into place, like a fog of confusion lifting from your mind. In that moment, you knew that this was who you were meant to be. A beefed-up, hairy, hunk of a man that was in control of everything in his life. All the decisions, the guidance, the permission granting… it lingered in the back of your throat like a cough. Dominance never felt like a personality trait or a role you had to fill. It was just who you were as a person, and people loved you for it.
Twiddling the note between your fingers, you flipped the piece of paper over to read the hand-scribbled number on the back. In that moment, you remember why that number seemed so familiar to you. A small, knowing smirk formed on your lips as you grabbed your phone off the coffee table. It seemed there was a rather naughty, needy boy who needed to understand what his role was in your new dynamic. He would have to become reacquainted with the new you, given that he did so all on his own, without your permission. You turned on your phone camera, taking a picture of your naked body. Making sure to include your heavy set of balls, hairy chest, and half-chubbed cock, you texted over the photo to the person who sent over the box. It was ridiculous that he even thought you needed self-improvement. You were perfect the way you were, like a god who decided to walk amongst the mere mortals.
get over here, boy.
it seems you’ve done something without my permission again.
you’ll have to earn my forgiveness.
The reply came back fired back just as quickly, a simple “Yes, Sir,” giving you all the confirmation you needed. It made no difference. If he didn’t come, it was his loss. And if he did, you would show him the fruits of his labors. Until then, you reclined on the couch and made yourself comfortable. It was going to be a long and eventful rest of the day.
Manufacturing details: Produced by the lays Frato-laid (formerly known as frito-lay).
Key transformation components:
Chip dust mixed with powdered Natty Light residue
Corn masa soaked in used pong table water
Seasoning blended with late-night pizza grease and microdoses of testosterone
Plastic bag interior coated with dorm-room pheromones
Crunch vibration calibrated to lower IQ by 40 points per bite
Testing: “Ok, guys. This one was sent by. . .looks like a Doritos. Thanks for sending this, Doritos! Let’s open.”
In Johnathan’s hands is a large cardboard box with the Doritos logo on it. He was filming an unboxing video for his YouTube channel. He didn’t even like chips but his viewers (and his sponsor) didn’t need to know that. Opening the branded box, he found maybe a dozen packs of Doritos chips.
“Ok, these look amazing. What flavor are these? Oh, looks like there's a new flavor: Super Cheese.”
He opened one of the bags and took a performative sniff. He had to suppress the urge to gag, it smelled distinctively like old socks and overripe cheese. He smiled wide at the camera and plucked one out. When he placed it in his mouth he was hit with a powerful taste of nacho cheese and chipotle peppers.
“Wow!” He exclaimed, “That's hot. Like really hot.”
Despite his better judgment he went in for another, then another. Until maybe half the bag was gone. He wiped his hand carelessly on his t-shirt, leaving an orange streak. The orange powder seemed to spread across the shirt. Growing into a larger and larger stain until his whole shirt crumbled into cheese dust.
Johnathan glanced down, too absorbed in his bag of chips to care. His skin began to take on a deeper tan and his body inflated with lean muscles. His brand new vans began to wear down, becoming years old in a matter of seconds. Jewelry wrapped itself on his wrists and fingers.
As he chewed, his jaw shifted. Withers can but it became slimmer and any beginnings of wrinkles vanished. His face now one of aloof hotness, his mind soon matched. The cheese rewrote his sense of self entirely, making his brain foggy. So foggy he could recall, well, anything. He didn’t remember putting up that camara. Didn’t even remember what year it was.
When the bag was empty he pounded on his chest in a show of bravado.
“Soooo good bros. LETS GOOO!!!!” He glanced around at the bags and bags of Doritos. “Like, Where did these even come from, bro? I don’t remember things for shit.” He laughed.
Then he remembered what time it was: 10:35. Shit, he was late for school. He couldn’t fail senior year for the third time.
2
File name:SJ-ED-Peanut butter cup
Manufacturing details:produced in partnership with Graystone Athletics and the Hershey company.
Key transformation components:
Peanut butter whipped with extracted sweat from used shin guards
Chocolate shell spiked with “goal celebration hormones”
Cups constructed using molds from designer jockstrap factories
Packaging microperforated with muscle pheromone mist
Filling enriched using stadium air from Saturday night matches
Testing: Walking home after school, he was extremely hungry. The long day of studying and learning had taken it out of him. Thankfully he had grabbed a pack of peanut butter cups from the old vending machine outside the school gym.
As he walked by the athletic field he had just gotten the sealed package open. He took a large bite and was hit by the strong flavor of peanut butter. He polished off the first cup with relish, but was soon hit by the feeling of vertigo.
His height shot up, bones cracking to give him broad shoulders and a wide set of hips. He felt a slight pinch in his ears as a pair of fake diamond studs materialized. His long messy wave pulled back into his head into a trendy sporty style. His jaw sharpened to create a strong profile.
Muscles pumped into his body faster and faster till his crappy cardigan and jeans burst to shreds. Sharp cut abs and pecs were revealed and he rubbed them without hesitation. Dark hair growing unto muscled arms and legs. He stood shaking on massive feet trying to remember what he was doing.
He saw the last peanut butter cup on the ground and grabbed it, eating it without hesitation. His discarded school bag shifted into a soccer ball and nylon workout pants formed around his thick thighs. He ran onto the field with excitement, kicking the ball as he went.
3
File name:RN-ED-Cereal
Manufacturing details: Produced by Graystone Labs, Georgia division.
Key transformation components:
Cornflakes made with real silo dust from Nebraska farm co-ops
Milk powder mixed with authentic barn musk
Natural sugars replaced with “clean organic” sweetener
Box lined with hay-scent aerosols
Oats treated with UV radiation to simulate outdoor farm labor
Crunch-timbre calibrated to trigger “country-fried brainwaves”
Testing: Cassie sat down with a bowl of cereal. As a nursing student, she rarely had the time or money to go to the grocery shop. She had woken up knowing she had already eaten her last eggs the other morning. But in the back of the cabinet she had found an old box of off-brand cornflakes and had poured herself a bowl.
Her first bite was chalky and obviously a bit stale, she continued chewing as she looked over yesterday's notes. As she chewed her clothes began to shift, scrubs becoming loose white pants and shirts that didn’t fit correctly…yet.
She shifted in the orange chair, trying to accommodate for her body that began to change. Still, she was too absorbed in her notes to notice anything amiss. Her feet began to grow out of her socks, revealing long white arches. Limbs lengthening into sun tanned muscle. She tabbed her long fingers on the table as her mind began to wander.
Her throat became instantly thicker as the changes spread up to her face. Her tight bun exploded into a roughly cut mullet. Face becoming longer, a long nose and thick eyebrows appearing. A small scattering of body hair grew like she had never shaved before. A permanent smell of livestock formed around him.
She lost focus in her schoolwork entirely as a course of pleasure coursed through her body. Her brain started to rewrite itself, memories and instincts changing. Ambitions of becoming a pediatrician were replaced by much smaller dreams of farming and living simply in the south. Skills changed as she gained knowledge of agriculture and home cooking. The source of pleasure became obvious as she reached down to her crotch feeling for the growing penis that was pushing its way into existence. Becoming fully formed and erect as she became he.
A cap plopped onto his head as he fully embraced his new self. A ruddy, stinky, dirt-under-the-nails midwestern teenage farm boy.
4
File name:(RC)AS-ED-Sprite
Manufacturing details: produced in partnership with Graystone International.
Key transformation components:
Lemon-lime flavor adjusted with Kabosu limes
Bottle plastic mixed with recycled Chinese take out containers
Liquid aerated using pheromone enriched air from Japanese gyms
Sugar blend calibrated for maximum speed + minimum brain activity
Carbonation spiked with cultural spectrum chemicals
Testing: He cracked it open mid-commute. He needed the boost trying to walk the seven blocks to the office.
The fizz exploded in his mouth, way too strong. His body jolted in shock. Energy flooded him instantly, his legs twitching, heart pounding, lungs expanding like they could never run out of air.
He chugged it. Big fucking mistake.
His cubby frame began to skim down, he also lost at least multiple inches. The fattiness in his limbs changed into lean muscle. Lean abs formed under his clothes as his skin began to take on a lighter tone. His face lost all roundness as it became lean, sharp and youthful.
His brain… didn’t keep up. Memories of being another office worker replaced by being an international transfer student. His internal thoughts were in Mandarin instead of English. His suit melted away, replaced by a black t-shirt and baggy jeans. His hair becomes messy and straight.
“Yo—yo—yo—” he laughed, bouncing on his toes. “Gada’ get to school”
He didn’t remember where he was originally going. Already on route to a school in the opposite direction. Sipping on his sprite like it was the best thing in the world. He was so glad 妈妈 had sent him his favorite 雪碧 from china, all this American soda was garbage anyway.
(Going to do more streamlined theming for this series from now on. This one was a lot of fun, lots of cool stuff a racial change, southern tf, and a couple classic jock transformations. I’m not sure if I’ll add to this series again for while, but enjoy this yummy blend of shorts)
Kevin, out of curiosity chooses Asian. The room fills with a yellow smoke as Kevin is knocked out by the aroma.
Kevin wakes up as a fat Asian
"Change me back, or change my body weight!"
The voice let's out a chuckle as the room is filled with a black air.
Kevin is not knocked out but fell a weird pleasure in his body.
His CHEST balloons out to a medium range and Kevin let's out a moan. Next his abs became rock hard as he sit there and drooled.
He then feels voices in his head to flex his new muscles. He then has no control over his body since the pleasure gets to his head. He flexes his biceps as they grow bigger and bigger the harder he flexes
He then touches himself all over before getting to his pecs
Kevin always wanted big pecs.
The voice says "I see you like your pecs, let me increase them for you!"
The air in the room changes to a black mist
kevin feels pleasure in his chest and looks down at it as it balloons up
He let out the biggest moan as he squeezed his new pecs.
The air was still flowing in him and his whole body exploded in mass in one second
I'd like to give a special word of thanks to the talented @rowdy317 for the artwork!
Kenji never paid much attention to his grandparents’ attic. It smelled of cedar and time—full of dust-laced boxes, faded photographs, and the silent weight of history. But that rainy Saturday, curiosity tugged him upward.
He rifled through the clutter with idle hands until his fingers brushed against something cool—metallic. Pulling aside an old silk cloth, he uncovered a pendant hanging from a tarnished silver chain. The stone embedded in it was black and glassy, almost alive in the low light.
Kenji tilted his head. "Kinda badass," he murmured, slipping it over his neck.
A faint warmth pulsed against his chest.
He didn’t know that this amulet had belonged to Kenzo, a legendary warrior who, according to whispered family stories, had defended their ancestral village from invaders over a century ago. The adults always said Kenzo vanished in battle, and that his soul never rested.
Kenji just thought it looked cool.
That night, as he lay in bed scrolling on his phone, he noticed something he hadn’t before—an inscription along the edge of the stone. Etched in an older dialect of Japanese, but legible to him somehow.
力と知恵が私のものとなりますように
"May Strength & Wisdom Be Mine"
He read it aloud, unaware of the ancient power that stirred with his voice.
The amulet pulsed once—then flared, scorching hot against his skin.
"Agh!" he cried out, clutching it, but it wouldn’t come off. The chain coiled tighter, the stone glowing like an ember. Then it sank into his skin, vanishing beneath the surface.
He staggered to the mirror, gasping.
His skin began to darken, a sun-kissed bronze sweeping over him like a tide. His lean frame trembled—then swelled, muscle surging through his arms, chest, and thighs with every heartbeat. Veins bulged. His shoulders broadened, his back thickening like a seasoned soldier’s.
His jaw cracked outward and hair erupted from his face—a thick, black beard pushing out in seconds. Then, as if years passed in moments, streaks of white bled through his hair and beard. Lines carved themselves into his brow and around his eyes. His youthful features matured, becoming something weathered, noble, and strong.
He stared at the man in the mirror—a man who looked nothing like the soft-featured college student he’d been an hour ago.
His voice was deeper when he whispered, "What the hell just happened?"
Inside, he was still Kenji. He still remembered his Spotify playlists, his student loans, and how to make a perfect cup of instant ramen.
But his body now carried a warrior’s weight. A body tempered by battle. A body built to endure.
Kenji stumbled backward, a strange presence pulsing within his chest—not quite a voice, but a knowing. Muscle memory that wasn’t his. Strength that wasn’t earned. Yet it obeyed him.
The amulet hadn’t just changed him—it had restored something long dormant. The relic had brought back his ancestor's might… but not his mind.
The warrior had returned. And his blood now lived again—in Kenji’s flesh.
What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?
To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.
I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !
See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !
I’m not supposed to become someone like this :
I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !
Or like that :
Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !
Or that guy :
His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !
Or even this guy !
… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !
Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !
However, today, it all changes.
Today, you will understand my plight.
Today, I’ll transform you for a change.
Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.
So, let us begin.
BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?
… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”
You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.
Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !
There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !
Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.
Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.
Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.
Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence...
Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.
BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.
Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?
Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !
… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !
Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.
So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).
Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !
However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.
Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick…
… What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)
By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !
Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !
This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !
Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !
I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.
BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !
Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.
All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !
… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…
NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.
Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.
Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…
… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?
What are you holding out for me ?
...
I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.
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By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate !
AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !
@beachedkiwi wished for balance after my last transformation request so thats what he'll get. Once a stocky white guy now becomes the nerdy asian guy that became a lumberjack.
He'll lose all memories of his old life. He won't mind that though, he'll be too busy jerking off all day in his room. He might be a nerd but he's one hell of a gooner!
Jon had grown tired of being overweight and geeky. He made a wish one day, he want to be sexy and popular.
He felt things begin to change as he rushed to the mirror.
First his race changed now becoming Korean. But soon another change began.
Holy Fuck look at that stud staring back he thought, not aware that it was him, it hadn't dawned on him that within 5 minutes he had gone from geek overweight white boy to this hunk of a Korean standing before him. He could feel his dick had grown too as he tried to adjust it now in his tight leather jeans.
His new facial features and muscled body kicked in just as his new persona became a reality. The old Jon never existed.
Joon, a stage hand called to you. They're ready for you.
You were the great Joon, the most popular Korean Rockstar on the planet right now and your adoring public awaited you.
