TF Central

A NSFW 18+ blog for all your tf needs

[tf-central]

The Ring’s Year of Desire: March

Devin had thought January as Chris Evans was the peak, but February as Chris Hemsworth blew it out of the water. That massive, godlike body was a playground of power and sensuality. He spent the month dominating the scene in every way: crushing workouts in Sydney where fans gawked at his bulging muscles, filming intense action sequences that left him sore and satisfied, and endless nights exploring the perks of being a Hollywood heavyweight. The accent alone got him laid whenever he wanted, that deep Aussie rumble making guys drop to their knees. But the real highlight was Tom. Their secret daddy-boy thing was pure fire. Mornings started with Tom begging for it, afternoons stolen in trailers where Devin would pin him down and fuck him senseless, Tom’s tight hole clenching around his thick cock as he whispered “daddy” over and over. One weekend, they holed up in a beach house, Devin pounding Tom on every surface – the kitchen counter, the shower, even out on the deck under the stars, Tom’s moans echoing into the night. Devin came buckets each time, filling him up, then making Tom clean him off with that eager mouth. By the end of the month, he’d edged himself during solo sessions too, stroking that huge dick while watching his reflection, flexing those tree-trunk arms, but nothing beat the real thing. As February 28th faded, he collapsed into bed after a marathon fuck with Tom, body spent, the ring humming faintly on his finger.

March 1st dawned bright and disorienting. Devin groaned, rolling over in sheets that felt silkier than usual, the room unfamiliar yet again. Sunlight poured in from a wall of windows overlooking the Austin skyline – wait, Texas? He sat up, a strange fullness in his ass making him shift uncomfortably. What the…? He glanced around: a sleek, modern bedroom with cowboy chic vibes, framed movie posters on the walls, a guitar in the corner. His body felt different – leaner than Hemsworth’s bulk but still ripped, athletic and toned like a fighter pilot. He swung out of bed, wincing at the pressure between his cheeks, and made his way to the full-length mirror by the dresser.

Holy fuck. Glen Powell stared back, that boyish grin frozen in surprise, dark hair tousled from sleep, green eyes wide. His face was all-American handsome, sharp features softened by a dimpled smile, stubble accenting his jaw. The body was perfection: broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, pecs firm and defined under a light dusting of hair, abs carved like they were made for licking. Lower, his cock hung thick and heavy, even soft, with low-hanging balls that promised a good load. He turned, admiring the ass – perky, round, the kind that begged to be grabbed. But as he moved, that fullness shifted again, sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine. Reaching back, his fingers brushed something hard protruding from between his cheeks. A plug. A fucking butt plug, nestled snugly in his hole, vibrating faintly? No, just the sensation of it being there, stretching him overnight.

Devin’s new cock twitched at the realization. Memories flickered in – or maybe the wish filling in the blanks – of Glen’s hidden life. Turns out, in this version, Glen was a total bottom submissive cock slut, craving to be used, dominated, filled. He’d gone to bed with the plug after a late-night session, keeping himself ready for whenever the urge hit. Devin’s heart raced, arousal flooding him. He’d always been versatile in fantasies, but this body screamed submission, nerves lighting up at the thought of being taken. He gripped the plug’s base, tugging gently, moaning as it resisted, his hole clenching around it. “Oh shit,” he breathed in Glen’s smooth Texas drawl, voice laced with need.

He couldn’t resist. Sinking to his knees in front of the mirror, he spread his legs, ass up like an offering. The plug was black silicone, flared at the base, maybe three inches in, thick enough to stretch but not overwhelm. He pulled it out slowly, inch by inch, gasping as his rim stretched around the widest part, then popped free, leaving him empty and aching. His hole winked in the mirror, pink and slick from lube residue, begging to be filled again. Devin’s cock hardened fully now, curving up toward his abs, precum beading at the tip. He was a slut for this, he realized, the wish amplifying it – or maybe it was always there, buried in his nerdy self.

“Fuck, look at you,” he whispered to his reflection, voice trembling. “Such a needy bottom. Need cock so bad.” He sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, then reached back, pushing two into his hole easily, the stretch making him whine. It felt incredible, his prostate throbbing as he curled them, scissoring to open himself up. His other hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, base to tip, twisting at the head where it was most sensitive. But it wasn’t enough. He spotted a drawer half-open on the nightstand – toys. Crawling over, he rummaged: dildos, vibes, a collar even. Grabbing a thick, veiny dildo – realistic, about eight inches, suction base – he stuck it to the mirror at cock height, then slathered it with lube from the bottle nearby.

On all fours, ass facing the mirror so he could watch, he backed onto it, the head pressing against his hole. “Please, fuck me,” he begged aloud, imagining a dom top behind him – maybe one of Glen’s secret hookups, a rough guy who’d call him names and use him hard. He pushed back, the dildo breaching him, stretching wider than the plug. A loud moan escaped, his body shaking as he took more, inch by inch, until his ass cheeks met the mirror, fully impaled. “Yes, daddy, wreck me.” He rocked forward and back, fucking himself, the dildo hitting deep, slamming his prostate with each thrust. His cock bounced untouched, leaking steadily, balls drawing up.

Sweat beaded on his skin, making his muscles glisten. He reached back, spreading his cheeks wider, watching the dildo slide in and out, his hole gripping it greedily. “I’m your slut, take it all,” he panted, speeding up, the wet sounds filthy and echoing. Switching positions, he lay on his back, legs spread eagle, holding the dildo now, plunging it in deep and fast. His free hand pinched his nipples, twisting hard, the pain mixing with pleasure. “Cum in me, breed this hole.” He stroked his cock furiously, syncing with the thrusts, edging closer. Fantasies flooded: being passed around at a party, multiple cocks filling him, cum dripping down his thighs; or tied up, blindfolded, used relentlessly.

The orgasm built like a storm. He rammed the dildo in one last time, grinding on it, hand flying over his cock. “Fuck, yes! I’m cumming!” Ropes of thick cum shot across his abs, some hitting his chest, his hole spasming around the toy. He milked himself dry, body convulsing, moans turning to whimpers as he rode the waves. Finally, he pulled the dildo out, collapsing spent, cum cooling on his skin. Staring at Glen’s flushed face in the mirror, he smirked. If this was March, being a submissive cock slut was going to be one hell of a ride. The ring promised more months ahead, and he was ready to submit to whatever came next.

[tf-central]

The Ring’s Year of Desire: February

Devin couldn’t believe how fast January flew by. Waking up in Chris Evans’ body that first day had been a shock, but once he got over the initial rush, he dove headfirst into the life. The ring on his finger gleamed subtly, a constant reminder that this was temporary, but for now, it was all his. He spent the month in Los Angeles, navigating Chris’s schedule with surprising ease, like the wish had implanted just enough knowledge to keep things smooth. Red carpet events, photoshoots, gym sessions that left his muscles pumped and aching in the best way. Fans screamed his name, paparazzi flashed cameras everywhere, and the hookups? God, the hookups were endless.

He’d hit up exclusive parties where Hollywood’s hottest mingled, and more than once, he’d end up in a private room with some eager guy who’d been eye-fucking him all night. One memorable evening, he brought home a twinkish actor from a club, the guy’s hands all over his broad chest as they stumbled into the bedroom. Devin flexed for him, peeling off his shirt to reveal those perfect pecs, and the guy dropped to his knees, sucking him off like it was the role of a lifetime. Devin thrust into his mouth, gripping his hair, moaning in that deep voice, cumming down his throat while staring at his reflection in the window. But he always came back to solo sessions too, jerking off in front of mirrors, showers, even once in a limo on the way to a meeting. He’d stroke that thick cock slowly, building up, whispering praises to himself. “Fuck, Chris, you’re a god.” By the end of the month, he’d explored every inch of that body, from fingering his ass while edging to humping pillows imagining it was some co-star.

Life as a celebrity was intoxicating: private jets to New York for talk shows, where he’d charm the audience with Chris’s easy laugh; dinners at spots where the bill ran into thousands; and the constant admiration that made him feel invincible. He even nailed a workout video shoot, his sweat-slicked muscles gleaming under lights, fans later flooding social media with thirsty comments. But as January 31st wound down, he crashed hard in his LA mansion, body exhausted from a day of hiking and a quick fuck with a delivery guy who’d recognized him. He drifted off thinking about what February might bring, the ring warm on his finger.

February 1st hit like a thunderbolt. Devin stirred awake, sunlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains, the bed beneath him softer than Chris’s usual setup. He blinked, disoriented, the room spinning a bit. This wasn’t his bedroom. The walls were painted a soft gray, modern furniture scattered around, and out the window, he caught a glimpse of a private beach, waves crashing gently. Where the hell was he? He sat up, heart racing, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His body felt different again – heavier, taller, even more powerful. He glanced down: massive thighs, a chiseled torso dusted with light hair, arms like tree trunks. Panic mixed with excitement as he stood, padding across the plush carpet to the mirror on the opposite wall.

Staring back was Chris Hemsworth. Those stormy blue eyes, the long blond hair tied back in a messy bun, the rugged beard framing a jaw that could cut glass. His body was a masterpiece of bulk and definition – shoulders impossibly wide, pecs that heaved with each breath, abs like cobblestones leading down to a thick, heavy cock nestled in trimmed pubes. Devin reached up, touching his face, feeling the stubble, then down to flex his biceps, watching them peak hugely. “No way,” he whispered, the Australian accent thick and commanding, sending a shiver through him. The ring had shifted him again, interpreting his wish in a new way for the new month. From Evans’ all-American charm to Hemsworth’s godlike Aussie power. He turned, admiring the ass – round, firm, powerful enough to thrust for hours.

But then he heard a soft murmur from the bed. He spun around, eyes widening. Curled up under the sheets was Tom Holland, his lithe body half-exposed, messy brown hair tousled from sleep, those big eyes still closed. Tom’s chest rose and fell gently, a faint smile on his lips, like he was dreaming something sweet. Devin froze. What the fuck? Memories trickled in, courtesy of the wish maybe – flashes of secret meetups, stolen kisses in hidden spots, a relationship kept under wraps from the prying eyes of Hollywood. Tom and Chris – or rather, this version of them – had been hooking up for months, a daddy-boy dynamic that made Devin’s new cock twitch just thinking about it. Tom idolized him, called him daddy in private, begged for his attention like a needy pup.

Tom stirred, stretching with a cute yawn, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked up at Devin – no, at Chris – and his face lit up with a sleepy grin. “Morning, daddy,” he murmured, voice husky from sleep. He shifted under the sheets, revealing more of his toned, compact body: smooth skin, perky ass peeking out, his morning wood tenting the fabric. Tom’s hand reached out, groping playfully at the air. “You look so hot standing there. Come back to bed?”

Devin swallowed, stepping closer, his massive frame towering over the bed. The role felt natural, the wish pulling him into it. “Hey, kid,” he rumbled in Hemsworth’s voice, sitting on the edge. Tom’s eyes roamed hungrily over his body, lingering on the bulging biceps and the semi-hard cock starting to rise.

Tom whined softly, scooting closer, pressing his face against Devin’s thigh. “Please, daddy? I’ve been dreaming about you all night. Need you to fuck me. Like, right now.” His hand slid up, fingers tracing the veins on Devin’s arm, then down to palm his growing erection. “You’re so big. Missed this.”

Devin groaned, the touch electric on his new skin. He grabbed Tom’s chin gently, tilting his head up for a kiss – deep, possessive, tongues tangling as Tom melted into it. “You begging already, huh? Such a good boy.” Tom’s whine turned into a moan, his body arching up, grinding against Devin’s leg.

“Yes, daddy, please. Fuck me hard. I want to feel you stretch me.” Tom pulled back the sheets, fully naked now, his cock hard and leaking, smaller but perfectly proportioned to his athletic build. He rolled onto his stomach, ass up, presenting himself like an offering. “See? All ready for you.”

Devin’s cock throbbed fully erect now, thick as a wrist, veins pulsing, the head slick with precum. He climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress, hands gripping Tom’s hips. The size difference was intoxicating – his huge hands spanning Tom’s waist, making him look even smaller. He leaned down, kissing along Tom’s back, nipping at his neck. “Gonna make you scream, baby.”

Tom pushed back eagerly, ass cheeks spreading. “Do it, daddy. Pound me.”

Devin reached for the lube on the nightstand – apparently a staple here – squirting some onto his fingers. He teased Tom’s hole first, circling the rim, pushing one thick finger in slowly. Tom gasped, clenching around it, his body trembling. “More, please.” Devin added a second, scissoring them, stretching him open, curling to hit that spot that made Tom buck and moan loudly. “Fuck, yes! Right there, daddy!”

Satisfied, Devin slicked his massive cock, lining up. He pushed in inch by inch, the tightness gripping him like a vice, heat enveloping him. Tom whimpered, fists clutching the sheets. “So big… oh god, fill me up.” Devin bottomed out, balls against Tom’s ass, holding still to let him adjust. Then he started thrusting, slow at first, building rhythm, his powerful hips slamming forward.

Tom’s cries filled the room, high and needy. “Harder, daddy! Fuck me like you own me!” Devin obliged, pounding faster, the bed creaking under them. He reached around, stroking Tom’s cock in time with his thrusts, thumbing the head. Sweat dripped down his back, muscles flexing with each drive. The sight of Tom’s ass taking him, rippling with impact, was mesmerizing.

“Take it, boy. All of daddy’s cock.” Devin growled, flipping Tom onto his back without pulling out, hooking his legs over his shoulders. Face to face now, he kissed him sloppily, thrusting deep, hitting his prostate relentlessly. Tom’s eyes rolled back, hand clawing at Devin’s chest, nails digging into the pecs.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy! Please, let me!” Tom begged, body shaking.

“Cum for me,” Devin commanded, stroking faster. Tom exploded, ropes of cum splattering their abs, his hole clenching rhythmically around Devin’s cock. That pushed Devin over the edge – he roared, burying deep, flooding Tom with hot seed, pulse after pulse until it leaked out.

They collapsed together, panting, Tom nuzzling into his chest. “Best way to start the month, daddy.” Devin smiled, stroking his hair, already wondering what the ring had in store next. For now, this was paradise.

[tf-central]

The Ring’s Year of Desire: January

Devin had always been the kind of guy who blended into the background. At 22, he was a computer science major at a mid-tier college, spending most of his days hunched over textbooks and code, his skinny frame hidden under baggy hoodies and jeans that never quite fit right. His glasses were perpetually smudged, his hair a messy mop of brown curls that he never bothered to style, and his social life was pretty much limited to online forums and the occasional awkward dorm hangout. New Year’s Day was no different; the campus was quiet, everyone else nursing hangovers from the night before, but Devin was out for a walk, trying to clear his head after pulling an all-nighter on a project.

The streets were empty, a light drizzle making everything glisten under the gray sky. That’s when he spotted the antique shop, tucked away in a narrow alley he’d never noticed before. The sign above the door read “Curiosities of Time” in faded gold letters, and something about it pulled him in. Maybe it was boredom, or maybe it was the promise of something old and mysterious to distract him from his mundane life. He pushed open the creaky door, a bell tinkling softly as he stepped inside.

The place was crammed with dusty shelves overflowing with oddities: ancient clocks, tarnished silverware, faded paintings of stern-faced people from another era. Behind the counter sat an old lady, her white hair pinned up in a bun, her eyes sharp and knowing behind thick spectacles. She looked up from a book and smiled, wrinkles deepening around her mouth.

“Welcome, young man,” she said, her voice like rustling paper. “Looking for something special on this fresh new year?”

Devin shrugged, adjusting his glasses. “Just browsing, I guess. Never been in here before.”

She nodded, as if she expected that. “Ah, but perhaps something has been waiting for you.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a simple silver ring, etched with faint symbols that looked like they might be runes or something ancient. “This, for instance. A ring of wishes.”

He chuckled nervously, thinking it was a sales pitch. “Wishes? Like, genie stuff?”

“Not quite,” she replied, her tone serious. “It grants one singular wish, but only for a year. After that, it fades away, and so does what it gave. But be careful what you ask for; the ring has a way of interpreting desires in its own… creative manner.”

Devin picked it up, feeling a strange warmth in the metal. It was cheap, she said, just ten bucks, so he bought it on a whim. Why not? It was New Year’s, a time for silly resolutions and fantasies. He slipped it into his pocket and thanked her, heading back out into the drizzle.

As he walked home, the ring felt heavy in his jeans. The campus loomed ahead, but his path took him past a busy intersection where a massive billboard towered over the street. It was an ad for some action movie, featuring Chris Evans in all his glory: chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, that perfect smile, his muscular body straining against a tight shirt. Devin stopped, staring up at it. Chris Evans was the epitome of hot celebrity life, the kind of guy who had it all – fame, fortune, an endless parade of admirers. Devin had always had a crush on him, scrolling through fan pages late at night, imagining what it would be like to be that confident, that desired.

He pulled the ring out and slid it onto his finger, the metal fitting perfectly. “Man,” he muttered to himself, “I wish I could experience what it’s like being a hot celebrity like that, even if just for a little while.”

The words hung in the air, and then everything flashed white. A surge of heat rushed through his body, like electricity buzzing under his skin. The world blurred, sounds warping into a distant roar, and when his vision cleared, he wasn’t on the rainy street anymore.

He was standing in a lavish bedroom, sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawling hills of Los Angeles. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, the city skyline shimmering in the distance. The room was huge, with a king-sized bed draped in silk sheets, modern art on the walls, and a scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. Devin blinked, heart pounding. What the hell?

He turned and caught sight of a full-length mirror across the room. Stumbling toward it, he froze. Staring back at him wasn’t his nerdy face, but Chris Evans’. Those famous blue eyes, the strong jawline dusted with stubble, the broad shoulders and ripped physique under a simple white t-shirt that hugged every curve of muscle. He raised a hand – Chris’s hand – and touched his face, feeling the smooth skin, the slight roughness of beard growth. His body felt different too: taller, stronger, heavier in all the right ways. He flexed an arm, watching the bicep bulge, veins popping under tanned skin.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, but it came out in Chris’s deep, velvety voice. A grin spread across his new face. The ring had worked. For a year, he was Chris Evans. Or at least, in his body, in his life? The wish had been to experience being a hot celebrity, and here he was.

Excitement bubbled up, mixed with a rush of arousal. He’d always fantasized about this, about being someone so undeniably sexy. His hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard pecs, the nipples hardening under the fabric. He pulled off the t-shirt, tossing it aside, revealing a torso that was a work of art: defined abs, a trail of hair leading down from his navel, shoulders broad enough to carry the world. He ran his fingers over the ridges of his six-pack, shivering at the sensation. This body was sensitive, responsive, like every nerve was dialed up.

His gaze dropped lower. A bulge was already forming in his pants, the outline of a thick cock pressing against the denim. Devin – or Chris now – licked his lips, staring at his reflection. “Fuck, you’re hot,” he murmured to himself, voice husky. He unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers, kicking them off. There it was: Chris Evans’ cock, hanging heavy between his legs, semi-hard and impressive even at rest. It was thicker than Devin’s had ever been, with a slight curve, veins tracing along the shaft, the head pink and inviting.

He wrapped a hand around it, gasping at the warmth, the weight. It throbbed in his grip, growing harder as he stroked slowly, base to tip. In the mirror, Chris’s face flushed, lips parting in pleasure. Devin pumped a little faster, his other hand exploring: pinching a nipple, tracing the V-line of his hips, cupping his balls which felt full and heavy. Precum beaded at the tip, slicking his strokes, making obscene wet sounds echo in the quiet room.

“Oh god,” he groaned, eyes locked on the reflection. He imagined fans drooling over this body, gay guys like him jerking off to pictures, but now he was the one in control. He flexed his abs, watching them ripple, then turned sideways to admire the ass – firm, round, the kind that could take a pounding or give one. He reached back, squeezing a cheek, fingers dipping toward the cleft, teasing his hole which clenched in response.

The strokes quickened, his hand flying over his cock now, twisting at the head on each upstroke. Sweat glistened on his skin, making his muscles shine. He leaned closer to the mirror, breath fogging the glass, whispering dirty things to himself. “Look at you, Chris. Such a fucking stud. Bet you’d love to get fucked, huh? Or fuck some twink senseless.” The words fueled him, his hips bucking into his fist.

He slowed for a moment, edging himself, wanting to draw it out. His free hand roamed up to his neck, then his face, tracing those perfect lips. He sucked on his fingers, tasting salt, imagining it was someone else’s cock. Then back down, pinching his nipples harder, tugging until they ached deliciously. His cock was rock hard now, leaking steadily, the shaft pulsing with need.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he panted, but he held back, dropping to his knees in front of the mirror for a better view. On all fours, he stroked with one hand, the other propping him up, ass in the air as if presenting it. He watched his balls swing, his cock strain. Switching hands, he reached back, fingering his hole, pushing a spit-slick digit inside. It was tight, hot, sending sparks up his spine. He moaned loudly, Chris’s voice echoing deep and needy.

In and out, fingering himself while jerking off, the dual sensations building. His prostate throbbed as he curled his finger, hitting that spot, making his toes curl. Precum dripped onto the floor, his strokes frantic now. “Yes, fuck, worship this body. Cum for me, Chris.” He imagined a crowd watching, cheering him on, or better yet, joining in – hands all over him, mouths sucking him dry.

The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through him. He cried out, ropes of cum shooting across the floor, splattering the mirror base. His body shuddered, muscles tensing and releasing, hole clenching around his finger. He milked every drop, stroking through the aftershocks, cum dripping from his hand. Finally, he collapsed back, sitting against the bed, chest heaving, staring at his reflection with a satisfied smirk.

Chris Evans’ face looked back, spent and glowing. For a year, this was his. Devin couldn’t wait to explore more.

[tf-central]

The Magic Shorts

Alex was your typical college nerd—skinny, pale, with messy brown hair that always fell into his glasses-covered eyes. At 19, he was deep into his computer science major, spending most nights hunched over his laptop in his cramped off-campus apartment, coding or binge-watching anime. He was gay, sure, but his social life was basically nonexistent. Hookups? Forget it. He was too shy, too awkward, and honestly, too twinkish for the kind of guys he fantasized about—big, muscular hunks who could pin him down without breaking a sweat.

One rainy afternoon in September, Alex was coming back from class, his backpack slung over one shoulder, when he spotted something weird on the steps outside his apartment building. A pair of bright red shorts, just lying there, soaked but looking brand new. They were short, like running shorts, with a shiny fabric that caught the light even in the gloom. No one around, no lost and found nearby. Curiosity got the better of him. He picked them up, wrung out the water, and shoved them into his bag. “Free shorts,” he muttered to himself with a shrug.

Back in his apartment, he tossed his wet clothes into the hamper and eyed the shorts on his bed. They were dry now, weirdly enough, and they looked way too small for anyone bulky. But Alex was slim, 5’6” and barely 130 pounds, so maybe they’d fit. Out of pure boredom and a little thrill—he’d always had a thing for trying on clothes that didn’t belong to him—he stripped down to his boxers and pulled the red shorts on.

The fabric felt electric against his skin, warm and tingling. He adjusted them over his hips, and that’s when it started. A rush of heat spread from his waist downward, then upward, like fire in his veins. “What the fuck?” he gasped, stumbling to the full-length mirror on his closet door.

His legs were changing first. His scrawny calves ballooned with muscle, veins popping as they thickened into powerful pillars. His thighs exploded outward, quads and hamstrings ripping into definition, like he’d been squatting heavy for years. The shorts stretched impossibly to accommodate, hugging his growing ass as it rounded out, firm and bubbly. Alex’s heart pounded as the transformation crept up. His abs etched themselves into existence, a six-pack—no, eight-pack—carving deep lines across his once-flat stomach. His chest puffed out, pecs swelling into meaty slabs that bounced with each breath. Shoulders broadened, traps rising, arms bulging with biceps and triceps that flexed involuntarily.

He grew taller, too, his spine stretching as he shot up to at least 6’2”. His face shifted—jawline sharpening, cheekbones rising, his messy hair darkening and curling into thick, wavy locks. Olive skin tone washed over him, replacing his pale complexion, and a light stubble dusted his chin. His eyes turned a deep brown, smoldering. He looked Italian now, like some Mediterranean god, ripped and handsome in a way that made his old self look like a ghost.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice deeper, richer, with a faint accent he didn’t recognize. He flexed an arm, watching the bicep peak like a mountain. His cock, already half-hard from the weird rush, tented the shorts obscenely. But panic hit hard. This wasn’t right. This was impossible. Freaking out, he yanked the shorts down and kicked them off, tumbling onto the bed in a heap.

The heat reversed instantly. His body shrank back—muscles deflating, height dropping, skin paling. In seconds, he was back to his twink self, panting and staring at the discarded shorts on the floor. “What… the hell was that?”

He sat there for a minute, catching his breath, his mind racing. Magic shorts? Some kind of prank? But no, it felt real. Tentatively, he reached for them again, holding them up. Nothing happened until he slipped one foot in, then the other, pulling them just up to his ankles. The tingling started immediately, but slower this time, like it was waiting for more contact.

Alex bolted to the mirror, heart thumping with a mix of fear and excitement. He wanted to see it happen, to watch every detail. The shorts dangled loosely around his skinny ankles, but as the warmth spread, his feet grew first—larger, stronger, toes lengthening. Then calves again, inflating like balloons filled with steel. He pulled the shorts up a bit higher, to his knees, and the change accelerated. Thighs bulked up, his dick twitching as the energy pulsed through him.

“Fuck, this is insane,” he murmured, but his voice was already deepening. He hiked the shorts all the way up, snapping them over his hips, and the full transformation hit like a wave. Height shooting up, muscles piling on, face reshaping. In the mirror, the Italian hunk stared back, smirking with full lips.

But he didn’t freak out this time. Instead, a horny grin spread across his new face. His cock, now thicker and longer in the shorts, throbbed hard. “Oh yeah,” he growled, flexing his pecs, watching them dance. The fear was gone, replaced by raw lust. He was hot. He was powerful. And he was gonna enjoy this.

Alex—no, in this body, he felt like Alessandro or something—posed in the mirror, turning side to side. His ass looked incredible in those red shorts, round and perky. He slapped it, feeling the firm jiggle, and moaned. “God, look at me.” His hands roamed up, tracing the deep V-lines leading into the waistband, then up to his abs, fingers dipping into each ridge.

His dick was rock hard now, straining against the fabric, a wet spot forming from precum. He cupped it through the shorts, squeezing, and let out a deep grunt. “So big… fuck.” Slowly, he peeled the shorts down just enough to free his cock, but kept them hooked around his thighs so the transformation held. It sprang out, thick as a wrist, veiny, with a fat head already leaking.

He wrapped one massive hand around it, stroking slowly, eyes locked on the mirror. “You’re a fucking stud,” he told his reflection, voice husky. His other hand pinched a nipple on his huge pec, twisting it until he hissed in pleasure. The sensation shot straight to his balls, making them churn.

Stepping closer to the mirror, he licked his lips, admiring the tattoo that had appeared on his shoulder—some script he couldn’t read, but it looked sexy as hell. He flexed his bicep, kissing the peak, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. “Mmm, yeah, worship this body.” His strokes picked up speed, hand gliding slick from all the precum.

He turned around, craning to see his back—wide lats tapering to a narrow waist, dimples above his ass. He reached back, grabbing a cheek, spreading it slightly, imagining getting fucked in this form. “Bet I’d take it like a champ now.” Turning back, he dropped to his knees in front of the mirror, like he was blowing himself, but instead, he jacked harder, balls slapping against his thigh.

The room filled with his grunts and the wet schlick of his fist. “Fuck, look at these abs… this chest…” He bounced his pecs again, then ran his free hand all over them, squeezing the muscle. His cock pulsed in his grip, swelling even more. He edged himself, slowing down when he got close, wanting to drag it out.

Standing up, he posed like a bodybuilder—double bicep, most muscular, abs and thighs. Each pose made his dick throb harder. “You’re a god,” he panted, stroking faster now. He spat into his palm, lubing up more, the slick sound echoing. His balls tightened, the pressure building.

He imagined a hot guy on his knees, sucking him off, but no—this was all about him, this perfect body. “Gonna cum all over you,” he growled at the mirror, aiming his cock at the glass. His hand blurred, twisting at the head, thumb rubbing the slit.

The orgasm hit like a truck. His muscles tensed, veins bulging everywhere. “Oh fuck, yes!” Rope after thick rope shot out, splattering the mirror, dripping down in white streaks. He milked every drop, shuddering, knees weak. Cum pooled on the floor, his chest heaving.

Finally spent, he leaned against the wall, admiring the mess. “That was… incredible.” But as the high faded, he kicked the shorts off, shrinking back to normal. The cum was still there, proof it happened. Alex grinned, picking up the shorts. This was gonna be fun.

[tf-central]

The Idol’s Alpha

Alex was your typical ditzy twink. At 22, he had that slim, smooth body that turned heads in the clubs back home, with his bleached blond hair always perfectly tousled, his tight little outfits showing off his perky ass, and a giggle that could melt ice. He wasn’t the brightest bulb, but he didn’t need to be. Guys loved spoiling him, and he loved the attention. This summer, he’d convinced his rich daddy-type boyfriend to take him on a fancy vacation to Costa Rica. Beaches, resorts, and maybe some light adventure. But the boyfriend, Mark, was more into lounging by the pool with cocktails, so Alex decided to go on a solo hike through the rainforest one afternoon. “It’ll be fun,” he chirped to himself, slipping on his tiny shorts and a crop top that barely covered his nipples. “Like, totally Instagram-worthy.”

The trail started easy enough, all manicured paths with signs warning about monkeys and snakes. But Alex, being Alex, got distracted by a shiny butterfly and wandered off the path. Before he knew it, he was deep in the thick of it, vines tangling around his legs, the air humid and sticky against his skin. Sweat beaded on his forehead, making his makeup run a bit, but he didn’t care. He was lost in the fantasy of being some explorer babe. Then, pushing through a wall of ferns, he stumbled into a small clearing. There, half-buried in the mossy ground, was this weird stone statue. It looked ancient, like something from a movie. Carved into the shape of a massive, muscular man with a huge cock jutting out, balls heavy and full. Symbols etched all over it, ferns growing around its base like pubic hair.

“Oh my god, what is this?” Alex squealed, his voice echoing a little too loud in the quiet forest. He knelt down, brushing dirt off the idol’s chest. It felt warm under his fingers, almost pulsing. “This is so cool. I bet it’s worth a fortune.” Without thinking, because thinking wasn’t his strong suit, he wrapped his manicured hands around the stone cock, giving it a playful squeeze. A jolt shot through him, like static electricity but way hornier. His body tingled, and he let out a gasp, falling back on his ass. The idol seemed to glow faintly, and a deep, rumbling voice echoed in his head. “You have awakened me, mortal. I am Xochipilli, god of masculinity and fertility. For eons, I have waited for one worthy to carry my essence.”

Alex blinked, his brain short-circuiting. “Wait, what? Like, a god? That’s hot.” But before he could process, the tingling turned into a burn, a delicious, aching heat spreading from his core. He moaned, clutching his stomach as his abs started to tighten. No, not tighten. Grow. His flat, smooth belly rippled, muscles pushing out like someone was inflating him from the inside. “Oh fuck, what’s happening?” he whimpered, but it didn’t hurt. It felt good. Really good. His crop top stretched, then tore at the seams as his chest expanded, pecs ballooning into thick slabs of meat, nipples hardening into sensitive peaks.

His arms followed, biceps swelling, veins popping along his forearms. He flexed experimentally, watching in awe as his once-skinny limbs turned into powerful guns. “Holy shit, I’m getting buff.” The heat dipped lower, and his cock, which had always been cute and average, throbbed against his shorts. It grew, pushing against the fabric, thickening and lengthening until it tore through, slapping against his new abs. Nine inches, ten, eleven, a monster now, leaking precum like a faucet. His balls churned, growing heavier, fuller, like they were filling with something potent. His ass plumped up too, but in a firm, muscular way, thighs quadrupling in size, calves diamond-hard.

The voice boomed again. “You will be my vessel. Alpha among men. Your seed will bring fertility to the barren. Impregnate the males, spread my power. Seed as many as you can, and my strength will grow with each life you create.”

Alex, or whatever he was becoming, groaned as his face shifted. Jawline sharpening, stubble sprouting, his ditzy features turning rugged and handsome. His hair darkened a bit, curling wildly. He stood up, towering now at 6’4”, his shredded clothes hanging off him like rags. He felt powerful, horny as hell, his new cock bobbing with need. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, voice deeper, more commanding. The ditziness was still there, but overlaid with this alpha confidence. He was Alex no more. He was… Alejandro now? Nah, still Alex, but Alpha Alex. And god, he needed to fuck.

The directive burned in his mind. Seed men. Impregnate them. His cock twitched at the thought, balls aching with fertility. He ripped off the remains of his clothes, standing naked in the clearing, muscles glistening with sweat. Birds chirped overhead, but all he could think about was finding someone to breed. Mark. His boyfriend was back at the resort. Perfect start.

He crashed through the forest, instinct guiding him back to the trail. His body moved with ease now, powerful strides eating up the distance. By the time he reached the resort, the sun was dipping low, casting golden light over the pools and cabanas. Heads turned as he walked in, naked and unashamed, his massive cock swinging between his legs. Whispers and gasps followed him. “Is that… Alex?” someone said. But he ignored them, zeroing in on the suite.

Mark was lounging on the bed, scrolling his phone, when the door burst open. “Babe, where have you been? And what the fuck happened to you?” Mark sat up, eyes wide, taking in the transformed hunk.

Alex grinned, predatory. “Got an upgrade, baby. Now get on your knees.”

Mark hesitated, but the pheromones rolling off Alex were intoxicating. He dropped to the floor, mouth watering. Alex’s cock was right there, thick and veined, head glistening. Mark leaned in, licking the tip, tasting the salty precum. It was like a drug, making his hole twitch with need. “Fuck, Alex, you’re huge.”

“Suck it,” Alex commanded, grabbing Mark’s head and thrusting in. Mark gagged, but took it, throat stretching around the girth. Alex face-fucked him roughly, balls slapping against chin, grunting with pleasure. But this wasn’t enough. He needed to breed. Pulling out, he flipped Mark onto the bed, ripping off his shorts. Mark’s ass was exposed, pink and eager. Alex spit on his hand, slicking his cock, then pressed in.

“Oh god, yes,” Mark moaned as the head popped past his ring. Alex sank deep, inch by inch, until his pubes ground against Mark’s cheeks. He started pounding, hard and fast, the bed creaking. Mark’s cries filled the room, pleasure mixing with the stretch. Alex felt his balls tighten, the god’s power surging. “Gonna fill you up, make you mine.”

“Do it,” Mark begged, pushing back.

With a roar, Alex came, pumping rope after rope of thick cum into Mark’s guts. It was more than normal, flooding him, and something magical happened. Mark’s belly warmed, a faint glow as the seed took root. He gasped, feeling fuller, changed. “What… what did you do?”

Alex pulled out, cum leaking from Mark’s hole. “Planted my seed. You’re gonna carry my kid now.” He smirked, cock still hard. The directive pulsed: more. He needed more.

That night, Alex prowled the resort. The pool bar was packed with hot guys on vacation. He spotted a group of twinks like his old self, giggling over drinks. “Hey boys,” he said, striding up naked, muscles flexing. They stared, jaws dropping.

One, a cute blond named Tyler, blushed. “Um, hi. You looking for fun?”

Alex grabbed Tyler’s hand, pulling him close. “More than fun.” He kissed him hard, tongue invading, while his hand slipped into Tyler’s speedo, stroking his little cock. The others watched, aroused. Soon, Alex had them all in a cabana, clothes off, bodies writhing.

He fucked Tyler first, bending him over a lounge chair, slamming into his tight ass. Tyler screamed in ecstasy, cumming hands-free as Alex bred him deep. Then the next, a brunet named Jake, on his back, legs over Alex’s shoulders. Alex pounded him mercilessly, whispering dirty promises. “Gonna knock you up, make your belly swell with my baby.” Jake came twice before Alex flooded him.

By the third guy, the cabana reeked of sex, cum everywhere. Alex was insatiable, his god-given stamina endless. He lined them up, breeding each one, their moans blending into a symphony. Bellies warmed, seeds planted. The god’s voice approved: “Good. Spread my fertility.”

But the resort wasn’t enough. The next day, Alex hit the beaches, picking up surfers and tourists. He fucked a ripped lifeguard in the dunes, the guy’s muscular ass clenching around his cock as he begged for more. “Fill me, dude, make me yours.” Alex did, pumping him full, watching the glow take hold.

In the evenings, he ventured into local gay clubs, a beast among men. Dressed in tight shorts that barely contained his bulge, he danced, grinding against bodies until they followed him to back rooms. One night, he took three at once: one riding his cock, another sucking his balls, the third fingering himself in wait. He bred them all, cum overflowing, their bodies accepting his gift.

Weeks passed, Alex’s vacation turning into a breeding spree. Mark, now sporting a small bump, stayed by his side, horny and devoted. “I love what you’ve become,” he’d say, rubbing his belly while Alex fucked him again.

The god’s power grew with each impregnation. Alex felt stronger, his cock even bigger, loads thicker. He impregnated dozens: twinks, jocks, daddies. Some resisted at first, but his alpha aura broke them down, turning them into eager sluts.

One memorable encounter was with a group of backpackers in the rainforest, near where it all started. Four guys, all fit from hiking. Alex appeared like a god himself, naked and hard. “Wanna feel real power?” he asked.

They nodded, stripping. He fucked them one by one under the canopy, rain starting to fall, slicking their bodies. The first, a ginger, took him doggy-style, ass up, moaning as Alex’s cock reshaped his insides. Cum shot deep, seeding him. The second rode him, bouncing on that massive pole until he came, then got bred. The third and fourth shared, Alex alternating thrusts until both were filled.

As he came in the last one, the idol’s voice thundered: “You are my champion. Seed the world.”

Alex knew this was just the beginning. Costa Rica was fertile ground, but the world waited. His balls churned, ready for more. Horny, powerful, unstoppable.

[tf-central]

Nerd to Retro Hunk

Alex was the epitome of a high school nerd; skinny, awkward, with thick glasses perched on his nose and a backpack full of comic books and calculus textbooks. At 18, he spent his afternoons in the library, avoiding the jocks who teased him relentlessly. But one fateful day, during a mandatory gym class field trip to an old, abandoned fitness center from the 1980s, everything changed.

The place was a time capsule: dusty weights, faded posters of muscle-bound hunks, and a forgotten locker room that smelled like sweat and nostalgia. While the class wandered around, Alex snuck off to explore, hoping to find a quiet corner to read. In a dusty corner, he spotted an ancient bottle labeled “Muscle Juice – Pump Up Your Potential!” It looked like some gimmicky protein shake from decades ago, but curiosity got the better of him. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he muttered, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. It tasted like chalky vanilla with a weird, tingling afterburn.

At first, nothing happened. Alex shrugged and headed back to the group, but as he walked, a warm heat spread through his body. His heart raced. “Oh god, what did I do?” he whispered, clutching his stomach. Suddenly, his limbs started to ache; no, grow. His scrawny arms ballooned with muscle, veins popping as biceps swelled like inflating balloons. His chest expanded, ripping his oversized t-shirt at the seams, revealing a chiseled torso that could have graced the cover of a bodybuilding magazine. Abs etched themselves into his midriff, a perfect six-pack glistening under a sudden sheen of sweat.

His legs thickened next, thighs and calves exploding with power, stretching his baggy jeans until they tore apart, reforming into tight black shorts with white stripes; straight out of an 80s workout video. Sneakers morphed into worn Adidas trainers, and tube socks pulled up high on his calves. A mustache sprouted on his upper lip, thick and retro, while his hair grew longer, wavy, and perfectly styled like a mullet dream. His glasses vanished, eyes sharpening with a confident gleam. By the time it was over, Alex; no, he felt like “Alec” now; stood there, a towering 6’4” hunk of pure 1980s bodybuilder perfection, clad in a cropped black tank top emblazoned with “Retro World Athletics” and a golden eagle logo.

The transformation wasn’t just physical. As Alec flexed his massive bicep, a rush of new thoughts flooded his mind. Books? Nerd stuff? Who cared about that crap when you had guns like these? He smirked, feeling a cocky swagger take over. “Damn, look at me,” he growled in a deeper, huskier voice, his hand sliding down to trace his rock-hard abs. The gym mirrors called to him, and he struck a pose, one leg propped on a bench, arm curled in a classic flex, just like those old-school pros. His body was a temple now, and he was ready to worship it.

But there was more; a stirring heat in his groin that made his tight shorts bulge. As he admired his reflection, flexing his pecs and watching them bounce, a wave of desire hit him. Not for girls, like the straight jocks back at school. No, his mind flashed to those posters on the walls: ripped men oiled up, posing together, their bodies pressed close in competition. “Fuck yeah,” Alec murmured, his hand grazing his thigh, feeling the power there. He imagined other guys like him; strong, sweaty, grinding in the gym, hands exploring each other’s gains. His cock twitched at the thought, hardening as he worshipped his own form, lips parting in a moan. “This body’s made for flexin’ and fuckin’. Gonna hit the weights, pump up, and find some bros to share the pump with.”

The old Alex was gone, buried under layers of muscle and machismo. Alec sauntered out of the gym, ignoring the shocked stares from his classmates. He was a retro god now, obsessed with his physique, craving the admiration of other men, and ready to live the bodybuilder dream; pumping iron by day, and exploring his newfound desires by night.

[realmen4worship]

[storyofkink-deactivated20221103]

Ethan was a smart, if somewhat self conscious, young man until he went to the gym one day.

While in the changing room he noticed a hat resting on a bench, he felt compelled to take it and wear it. The second he did his mind deteriorated, leaving me plenty of room to work in converting him into the beefy brainless slut you now see.

[verus-animus]

Finally Home

"Uuuggh.... fuuuck... that's gonna hurt for at least a few hours..." A deep groan escaped from my mouth as I rubbed the pain in the back of my head. Having him fly across the room and slam his head on the hard concrete floor was definitely not in the plan, but at least everything else had been successful.

You see, for years and years I had been lusting over this one handsome hunk that frequented the gym I went to. Damien, as I later managed to find out his name, wasn't just any normal gymgoer. No, he was beyond that and more. The way he easily lifted those weights with his huge biceps, the tension of his massive quads as he ran on the treadmill, and the short breaks he took between each set to give everyone around him a prideful flex show... He was a god among gods... at least in my eyes.

Some might have called me obssessed, but I just found myself mesmerized by everything he did, everything he said, and everything he was. I loved the way his tall muscular body moved, I loved the way his deep accented voice sounded, and I even loved the way his pungent after workout musk smelled (Yes, I might have broken into his locker a few times just to bask in that wonderful scent of his...).

At first I really thought I was just in love with him, but I quickly realized it was something more than that, something more possessive. I didn't want to be with him. No, I wanted to be him. I wanted... no yearned to parade around with that wonderfully fit body, to watch myself flex with those massively thick biceps, and to simply own all that he possessed and had worked hard for. The very thoughts would make me quickly chub up and I'd often be forced to release a big load in the gym toilets while imagining running my hands across that chiseled flesh of Damien.

That's why I've spent the last seven months browsing through every book in the library, every website on the net, and every tattered research paper I could get my hands upon to find some way to actually make my desire come true. It took countless sleepless nights and an almost empty bank account, until I finally found what I was looking for. All that was required was the right place, right time, and right person...

I wasn't going to risk anything, so after finding out where he lived, what time he usually went to the gym, and when he would most likely come back home, I immediately put my plan into action. Yes, I broke into his apartment. Yes, I smeared chicken blood all over his living room floor to draw a glyph and lit incense sticks everywhere. And yes, I sat in the middle of it all naked and drenched in chicken blood, while clutching a piece of dry wood with runes carved on it in my hand.

You would think I had gone mad at this point, but you have no idea the dedication and yearning I had felt to actually make this go through. Patiently I sat there and waited for him, minutes and hours went by, but I was just as ready for the moment he would be back.

And when I could finally hear the entrance door to his apartment unlock, and saw the shocked expression on his handsome face as he found a complete stranger sitting in the middle of his living room floor, I immediately brought the unusual dry wood high up in the air and split it into two. Almost instantaneous an intense burning pain washed all over me, followed by the horrific sight of my physical body being engulfed in sweltering purple fire. A pile of ashes and flesh pieces was all that was left, as I now found myself hovering above the glyph in some sort of hazy non-physical state.

Not letting the opportunity pass me by, I immediately focused my form towards Damien's body and flung myself against him. A look of absolute terror was plastered on his face, as the words "Oh fuck" left his mouth. A wide gaping mouth that turned out to be the perfect entrance for me to slam myself straight into. The very force of my invasion however caused him to suddenly be flung backwards and across the living room.

I was rapidly forcing myself down into his gagging throat, and quickly filling him up with all of my essence. I could feel him starting to fight back, but I had no intention of giving him that chance. Immediately I pushed down even deeper and found his core. It was warm, livid, and pulsating... and I wasted no time completely enveloping it and absorbing it into myself. I could feel all his memories, dreams, and desires wash over me. If I wanted to become Damien, I had to go all the way.

One the outside, Damien's face was red and exhausted, as his expressions went from ones of pain and anguish to pleasure and joy. For a few brief minutes he closed his eyes and just laid there on the floor in eerie tranquil.

Until they finally opened again with me in complete control.

I tried to push myself back up, only to fall back down on the floor with a heavy thud. As much power and strength that flowed through my new bigger body now, I found myself beyond exhausted. Not only that, but my broad muscular back was now drenched in sweat, as were my armpits with my new wonderfully pungent musk.

Accepting that I wasn't getting up from this floor anytime soon, especially with this pounding headache in the back of my head, I decided to enjoy my new self right there and then. With one rugged hand shoved deep down in my gym shorts and squeezing my new engorged manhood, the other massive arm was busily being kissed, flexed, and having its wet armpit being worshipped.

Basking in my new perfect body and identity, I spent the rest of the evening filling the apartment with groans of my deep accented voice, and my stomach with pounds after pounds of my sticky white Damien cream...

I was finally who and where I had always meant to be, with the perfect body, life, and identity.

Finally I was home.

[verus-veritas]

Adjusting To His New Reality

There’s just something so incredibly erotic yet wrong to be licking and tasting his jock neighbor’s armpits, Finneas thought to himself. Not that he had any plans of ever stopping the worship of his new body. His asshole of a neighbor had not only been a huge pain in his ass since his wealthy parents moved in next door, but also quickly become the object of his desires.

Now, the Chronivac had completely erased his old body and life from existence, and quickly transferred all that belonged to the former jock to him. His accumulated wealth, his perfect fit body… even his dank messy room…

Gone were the posters of video games and music groups, replaced by pictures of body builders, cars, and busty blonde women. His music instruments, his closet, now being fully replaced by work out equipment and work out clothes instead.

Surprisingly yet fortunately though, only his room had been affected. Stepping outside showed his normal house, and downstairs his parents were still as kind and humble as before, even though their pockets were now overflown with cash.

And as he would later find out, everyone now recognized him as Finneas, the rich jock. Part of the school orchestra, but also a main player in the school’s football team. Loved, respected, and lusted by literally everyone.

For now though, he just wanted to play with himself. Feel, smell, and taste what his new perfect body had to offer. Maybe he’d even invite the hot straight QB over to help him worship his body. After all, with the Chronivac in his hand… anything was possible…

[octuscle-deactivated20250620]

Is this chronivac support? I accidentally mixed up names and put the name of Chris Hemsworth in the spot of my real name instead of who I want to be. 'Now I'm the one and only and the chronivac cannot undo it as it says no changes have been made yet. I'm even starting to forget things, like my name. I know it wasn't Chris Hemsworth, but what was it? Can you help me out, mate? Maybe I should find my brother Liam and ask him?'

Okay, now this is REALLY crazy. You accidentally registered as Chris. And you both actually used the same password. Has anyone ever told you that QWERTY is not a secure password? But there is one question: Why does Chris have a Chronivac account at all?

Ever thought that you don't get shoulder length blonde hair overnight? Well, not usually… Many actors use Chronivac. Hercules today, Meatloaf tomorrow and Prisoner of War the day after? How can you do that without Chronivac? And our VIPs have VIP treatment, of course. Everything super discreet. I'm not really responsible for that. But now I'm caught between two stools. You are clearly Chris Hemsworth. And you're actually clearly not. But as you rightly said: You are now the one and only…

You know what? If you don't tell anyone, I won't tell anyone. I'll ask my pal in IT administration to delete the case. And I'm going to take a coffee break. Hopefully the cute fella at Starbucks is on duty today. I think he looks a bit like Liam….

[joshslater]

Delayed Graduation

Repost of an old story that was previously flagged as too risqué for tumblr. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

- We might have a solution of sorts for you.

I barely registered principal Johnston talking. My world had been shattered, without warning. It all felt unreal, and most of all unfair. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but there were no witnesses, just my word against hers. She wouldn’t press charges, Johnston had explained. I was almost demanding that she did, so I could clear my name, but thought better of it. If it went to trial all outcomes would be bad, to varying degrees. This way I would just be expelled. I guess I could use the term “drop out” to soften it further. It’s not like the job market is stellar even if you have a degree, but this would firmly pigeon hole me as manual labor.

- What? - I said we might have an arrangement that could interest you.

He pulled out a stack of papers from his manila folder and placed them in front of me, and continued.

- We have a little trial project we would like to push ahead with, to see what the full potential is. Coach Andrews would personally take charge of your training to see how far he can take you in a year. Similar to what he managed to do for Shane O’Brian. Since you will be heavily supervised, fully scheduled and not share any classes with your former class mates, she has agreed to allow you complete your studies under these conditions. It’s not that many months until she graduates anyway. Your graduation obviously will have to wait until next year.

Shane of course was the star of the basket team. He was two years below me, so I didn’t know him, but I heard he had basically never touched a ball before he met coach. He must have been active in something else though, with that body. The girls were swooning like crazy. Some of the boys too, as rumor had it.

- Sir, I’m really grateful for this opportunity, but I’m not really made for sports. Just look at me. Tall and thin. Not much track and field around here. - We are not asking for any miracles. Just follow all instructions given and do your best. That’s all we’re asking.

I started to flip through the papers. I was bored just looking at the page numbers.

- Should I bring this home to my parents? - This is a bit time sensitive, so I’d prefer if you make your decision already today. You’re 18. You get to decide this on your own. Why don’t I leave you for a bit? You can have a read through, and then decide what you want to do.

As he left the room I started to go read through the contract properly. Why do they make things so complicated? The contract really just said that I assumed responsibility for the “infraction”, but the school would not disclose it to anyone unless the contract was breached. I would agree to participate in the athletic education study for one year. In return the school would allow me to graduate next year. But written over 26 pages.

I didn’t feel like I had many options. Initials on every page and signature on the last. Then repeated on the second copy of the contract. I was about to leave and find principal Johnston when he returned, followed by coach Andrews.

- Have you made up your mind, or would you like Mr. Andrews to explain it in more detail. - I’ve already signed the papers. - Oh, well then. I’m so happy we could work something out.

Coach Andrews opened the gym bag he was carrying and pulled out a blue singlet and ear guards, and held them for me to take.

- Let’s try this on right away. - Now? Here?

Johnston opened a door to a side room of his office.

- You can change in the conference room here. - But wrestling?! Have you seen me? - As I said, follow all instructions and do your best is all we ask.

It was the first time I even held a singlet in my hands. I’ve never even thought of how to put one on. It wasn’t hard, just step in them like some shorts and then pull the straps over your shoulders, but I never imagined doing it.

I looked ridiculous. I guess size isn’t as important when the fabric is stretchy, but this sure wasn’t my size. The taut straps pulled the fabric in the groin, while at the same time my thin legs didn’t fill out the legs of the singlet. What a mess. I walked back into the office, naked apart from this one single piece of clothing.

- Should I put on the ear guards as well. - No, that isn’t necessary. Here.

Coach opened a small, brown, glass bottle and poured its contents into a white plastic cup from the water cooler, and handed it to me.

- This is the time sensitive part. Drink up.

This day was going from horrendously bad to confusing to weird. I emptied the cup. The liquid tasted like cough syrup. Sickly sweet and with bitter herbs.

- What is.. *cough* *cough* - Here. Take a seat.

It felt like drinking really hot cocoa when you are frozen. It kind of spreads from the chest to the rest of the body. All of me was getting warm, and an uncomfortable feeling or pressure. Everything was off, like I was drunk, or high or something. It was over in a minute, though it is quite possible my mind was playing tricks and it really was longer than that.

- Stand up against the wall, so I can take a photo.

Bewildered, and with unsteady steps, I did as told. He snapped a few pictures with his phone, and then showed me one.

- Don’t tell me this isn’t a great starting point.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely me in the photo, but it was like the aspect ratio was wrong. I must be several inches shorter, but everything, arms, legs, chest, shoulders, neck, was wider. Even my face was altered, if ever so slightly. Where just minutes before, or whatever, I was a lanky gamer, I now was a hunk of muscle.

- How is this… - Don’t worry about the details. We must work quickly now while you are fresh, to get the wrestling technique right. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 7 am.

With that he slapped me on the shoulder and left. Just as he was about to exit the office, he pulled out a pair of shoes from the bag and placed them at a table.

- Oh, I almost forgot these. Your new size. See you tomorrow!

My head was spinning. What had just happened to me, to my body? Starting point? Principal Johnston had his distinct “anything else?” look.

- What about my studies?

My voice was lower than before, I think.

- You’ll be placed in the athlete’s reduced curriculum class. We just need to retest your proficiency levels first. - Why? I don’t understand. - My point exactly.

He didn’t make any sense. I felt tired, slow and almost dizzy trying to understand him.

- What about this body? What happens when I graduate? - You graduate with the body you have, like everyone else. It’s not like we can change it by magic or anything.

He smiled and chuckled to himself.

- Take your old clothes with you as you leave. Something might still fit.

Nothing did.

[joshslater]

Manhood Exchange

The premise is based on a story I read a while back and forgot to bookmark. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was in a shopping mall when I got the notification on my phone. Out of habit I just tapped the icon and suddenly I got a large, erect cock filling the phone screen. I immediately became aware of where I was and had a few seconds of panic before reassuring myself that no one else saw it. I moved a few steps to somewhere less open, where no one could walk behind me, and had a look again.

It was beautiful. Massive and uncut, with the skin pulled back to expose the pink, gleaming head. Actually the entire cock glistened like he had made a few strokes with precum on his hand and then positioned himself with just the right lighting to make the veins pop a little extra. The truly remarkable part was however the overlay at the bottom of the screen. “$400, quick trade”

I’d been on the Manhood Exchange app long enough to know a cock like this is usually hundred times that price, if not more. Whatever impression you’ve got from watching porn, people are on a bell curve with cock sizes, and the ones on the higher end of the scale aren’t selling. All the people who used to compensate with a big truck suddenly ended up in the same market, competing for the same cocks, and they make a hell of a lot more big trucks than big cocks. Oddly enough there was a market for really small cocks as well, not quite as high prices, but just as small supply. Normal people like me in the middle of the bell curve with no cash to buy and no cock to sell just had to make do.

It’s not enough for a cock to just enter the market either, which itself is a thread to needle with the 18-35 eligible age span and clean health declaration. For you to find one it has to be bio-compatible for science reasons and roughly the same race for ethics reasons, though the latter is just a matter of money. Obviously I tapped the “Deal!” button in the app before I even checked out his profile. With that kind of cock everyone would know you either had a shit ton of money, or you could get it by selling. The profile didn’t add much though. Just more good-looking images of him and his cock. A text message function as well, but was there really anything to talk about?

You’d think I’d be a bit more careful swapping cock with another man, especially since you can’t swap again until all the cells have been replaced because of some quantum spin entanglement bullshit. Ten years with bad meat is a long wait, but I already knew he was a bio-match and healthy, so it was more Fear Of Missing Out. I had some shit I hope I could fence, so I took an instant online loan and had the whole deal closed before I’d passed Baskin Robbins on the way out. Both I and my normal size cock were excited.

Just ten minutes later the phone chimed again with a proposed time for the swap at 7:20 pm, almost three hours away. Though I didn’t know anything about this less than an hour ago, any delay felt too long, like I hadn’t realized how much I wanted this. What it would mean for my position in the crew. Every minute of waiting was a minute where something could derail everything. My phone could be stolen. The exchange could cancel it for some reason. I tapped “Accept” and headed home with the phone in a secure grip in my pocket.

The instructions after I had accepted were straightforward. Be seated with a naked crotch and open the app ten minutes before the scheduled time for exchange. I decided to be pantsless until then just to be safe, and I set three alarms on the phone. One at 6:50 to sit down, if I wasn’t already sitting, one at 7:05 to be ready, and one at 7:09 to open the app. I sent a text to Shawn and told him I wouldn’t be joining the crew until later, if at all. No details of why.

Then I just sat down in the comfy chair. Three hours to go. I was only wearing my hat, socks, and T-shirt. And my bling of course. The sweatpants and my trunks were in a pile on the floor, and the phone was charging next to me. My cock was pointing almost straight up.

I realized that it would only be my cock for another few hours or so, and I should say goodbye properly. Normally I would jerk off in the shower or in front of the computer, but since I was already perfectly seated and with an erect cock in front of me I just grabbed it and started to remember all the highlights we’d had. When my neighbor Jamar excited came over and wanted to show me something. He was a few years older, but still occasionally spent some time with me. He showed me into the bathroom, lowered his pants, and told me to do the same. Then he showed me that by pulling on his cock he could get it to “bend” in his words. I remembered waking up one early morning with my boxers wet and worried I’d peed my bed. To my surprise they were filled with slime, but just to be safe I put them under the bed to dry so my mother wouldn’t know. I remembered that time I got an erection during a movie screening, and slowly wanked but desperately trying to avoid cumming or anyone else noticing what I did.

I remembered the first time I had sex, the first porn I jerked off to, the first time a date ended in sex, the first time I had sex in a car, the first time I jerked off to a porn video on my mobile. All while doing this I tried to go as slow as I could, like at the movie. Flashing before me were dates, partners, and porn stars, while the top of my cock had some frothy pre-cum. I was shocked when the alarm went off. How the fuck could time have moved that fast. I scrambled to get hold of an old T-shirt within reach, and pretty quickly came into it with a few pumps of cum. Not really the satisfying climax I had envisioned.

Suddenly time was moving slowly again, and I was stuck watching dried off, limp cock in front of me. I became self-conscious about how it looked, worried about if the seller would cancel the trade last minute seeing what a lousy deal it was for him. He’d seen my photos already though, but they were taken erect and with good lighting. What was the cancellation policy anyway? The next alarm went off. Why did I even set that one? I was getting nervous. What if it hurt? There was a lot of news about misteleportations some years ago, and this was way more complicated. I didn’t even understand how it worked. I knew the basics of standard teleportation from school. Every particle is a probability wave that exists everywhere, but the probability of it actually being at a specific point is overwhelming. By manipulating the quantum state you can poke the probability so that it is more likely to be somewhere else. Just a change in probability, so it can move instantaneously anywhere in the universe, given enough math. Swapping body parts between people was way harder, so it was bound to have lots of issues that could happen.

The last alarm interrupted my train of thought. I kind of felt not ready. Rich people did this, so it should be safe to do I reasoned, and tapped the activation button on the phone.

“This will start a legally binding contract with Manhood Exchange Incorporated adjudicated in the state of Delaware. Please identify yourself.” the phone voice said. I pressed the white circle on the screen with my identification finger, the middle one of course.

“Please sign that you are aware that concluding this transaction will replace your penis, testicles, prostate, and relevant connecting tissue, glands, and other structures with a third party as preliminary agreed.” I pressed the circle again, wondering what would happen if I didn’t. The $400 would certainly be gone.

“Please sign that you are aware that this is a one-time transfer option with Manhood Exchange Incorporated that cannot be reversed through quantum transplantation.” I pressed the circle a third time.

“Please sign that you are aware that both set of testicles will be made infertile through this swap.” I pressed the circle a fourth time, not so nervous I barely registered what I had signed. The screen of the phone changed to showing a live video from my selfie camera, showing me half-naked in my lounge chair. “Tap to connect” it said on the screen. I did.

The image quickly changed to show the man from the photos lying down in a white, far more upscale couch than I was sitting in. “Yo, man. You ready to do this?” he asked. His erect cock was just as big as it had looked on the photos, almost looking bigger as it was swaying with his breathing. The instructions on the screen said “Verify the other party is the selected exchange party and that he is seated with exposed crotch.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” I said, and tapped the Verified button on the screen. I could see from his motions that he did the same, and a timer started on the screen, counting down to 7:20. “So, will it fit in speedos?” I blurted out, still feeling nervous and with several minutes to kill. He chuckled. “Shorts are better for swimming, but you want some tight trunks to keep it in place when you’re wearing normal clothes. I use compression shorts a lot.”

“Well, you can use whatever with mine.”

The last 40 seconds we just stared at the countdown in silence. The actual swap was instant, almost silent, though I wouldn’t be able to describe the sound, and without any shimmers of light as you can sometimes see when teleporting. It felt like someone spilled warm water over my crotch, though that quickly went away, but it was replaced with the most amazing, intense horny hardon I’ve ever felt. It was like the cock was buzzing, craving attention. “Enjoy the wank” the other guy said. “What? Oh. Thanks!” I said and the video was closed from his side.

I grabbed the cock with my hand and instantly felt the difference in size. It was almost the size of my wrist. I just moved my hand up and a trickle of precum oozed out and trickled down over my fingers. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and continued where I had left off, thinking about the most recent porn videos, and in not too long I could feel the buildup of a climax, only this time I was unable to force it back. It just kept building and building, and I think I actually moaned out loud as the first rope of cum erupted. Then another one, and another one. Then I had to open my eyes to look at the mess, and it wasn’t any small squirts of cum either. It looked almost comical how my T-shirt was completely soaked in cum, and I was still pumping out a few more ropes.

To my amazement the cock was still semi-erect. I got up and hurried to the bathroom and threw the cum-wet T-shirt. After a quick look at my sticky chest I decided to have a shower. I stripped out of the few remaining items I had on and proceeded to have another wank in the shower. This one lasted a bit longer and produced slightly less cum, but it was still a shocking amount.

I had barely dried and put on my underwear before the new cock started to firm up again. I grabbed the phone and sent a text to the seller in the app. “What the hell is happening with my cock? Were you always hard?”

The app sat silent for a few minutes until a response chimed. “It’s called hyperspermia. It’s a genetic condition, so not a disease in Manhood Exchange’s definition. You’ll learn to cope several hours between wanks. It was the precum that bothered me the most. Just drink a lot of water, always wear a condom, and compression shorts really help, as I said. Good luck!”

[joshslater]

Granny’s Will

A rewrite of JD’s story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“You should stay away from him,” she hissed in a low voice. I turned my head towards Cody’s creepy granny and saw her leaning my way. “What?” I answered, not understanding what she meant. “Tell Cody you don’t love him. You were only with him for the sex, but now understand how shallow you are. Tell him you are not good enough for him, clearly. You’re also not good for him. He’s just so full of disgusting thoughts now. Soon his grades are going to suffer. You’re like a parasite, pumping him full of poison.”

Her voice went harsher the further she went on. I just stared into my empty plate wondering if she was for real. If she would end the tirade with a “j/k lol”, but I hadn’t heard a single joke from her all evening. “I’m…” I started, unsure what to say. It was just so unhinged, like a rambling better suited a century ago.

“Should I get the desert?” Cody asked, returning from his bathroom break, and clearly not reading the mood of the room. We made a good couple on campus. He was the captain of the Lacrosse team, and supplemented his hard training on the team with some extra gym time to have a fitness magazine cover toned body. I was on the cheerleader team with body of a nymph. All rack and ass, long smooth, tanned legs, and tall enough to kiss him without standing on my toes. I decided to give my response to his granny right away, and left my chair to join him. “It’s already here,” I said and kissed him on the mouth. Not a quick kiss either, but with tongue and passion. With my tongue still in him I turned him around so I could see his grandmother. She looked pissed and her saggy face had turned red. Good. I locked eyes with her and gave her the finger behind Cody’s back. Her eyes were turning red too. And glowed.

There was a sharp slap in my face, as if someone hit me with an open palm, and I felt a shock of pain through my entire body. I was thrown backward and fell, or perhaps rather forcefully pushed down, crashing into a bed. All pain was immediately gone and I was lying on my back in a silent and dim room. Faint sunlight glowed through the drawn curtains.

My thoughts were a jumble. While I didn’t feel cold, I was naked and the sheets were damp with sweat. I leaned up, my eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, and saw a room I hadn’t seen before. At the same time it was a kind of room I knew very well. Beat up weight bench, piles of laundry, X-box under the TV, and fit babes showing lots of skin on posters on the walls. Your standard sports jock room. Also filling the room was the dank smell of sweaty dude I also knew very well, and never liked when visiting the guys on the team for some… at home exercise.

“No fuckin’ way…” I muttered, grabbing my throat hearing the deep mumble that escaped my lips. I felt the thick bulge in my neck, then stripped the sheets off me to see a massive, bulky body that wasn’t mine! “FUUUUUCK!” I shouted, jumping out of bed and hurling my beefy self to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door.

Staring back at me was a tall, tanned, and incredibly ripped jock, the epitome of a dumb fratboy. Handsome but dickish face framed by unruly curls. Wide, hefty rounded shoulders, pecs that bounced and flexed at even the slightest move, jutting out from my brawny chest. A killer 6 pack, shredded from practice, and the V-line of a god leading down to a big bulge in the trunks. My trunks. I turned to look at my back and suddenly the vision of my cheerleading friends giggling about “jockbutts” as we watched the guys play came to mind. Athletic, striated thighs completed and calves like footballs completed the look before ending in pair of big sweaty feet. The tongue of my kicks just by the door told me they were size 15. Dude, ya know what they say about big feet? Totally true, yo! I was starting to bone up just looking at myself, filling out the trunks! Wait till the chicks see me! WAIT! NO! Chicks?! I mean, my Bros… Nah, fuck dude why would they care? They’re just as swole! uuuuugh… my head….

I staggered from the mirror and fell back on the bed. What the fuck had just happened? My head was pounding and my stomach growling. I knew this was Cody’s granny’s fault, somehow, but spending any more time in this rank room wouldn’t solve anything, and to leave I needed something more than the loosem grey trunks I was currently wearing. The room was a mess, but inside the wide open wardrobes I only saw winter clothes. I grabbed a pair of basket shorts from the floor next to the bed and put them on, and their pair of socks from the floor under the shorts. Just as I was about to open the door I also decided to step into the sneakers.

The house was foreign to me, but lots of the decorations and furnishings were familiar. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where my mother was making breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She offered me second helpings of everything, complained that I was eating her out of the house, and told me I needed to shower before heading to school. I tried to argue that I was going to the gym with Cody after school, but she firmly told me that wouldn’t be of any help to anyone who had to sit near me. It was only after I was in the shower I realized I somehow knew my schedule for the day. What was going on?

The house was in the old suburb the city had turned into a rent-controlled zone. All the buildings looked much more dilapidated here compared to our real house, but the upshot was that the school was within walking distance. As I was short on time I threw on the same clothes and a sweatshirt, grabbed the backpack, and started to jog there. Halfway to school Cody’s granny suddenly stepped out of nowhere just in front of me. “One week,” she said.

“What the fuck is going on?” I said, still not used to hearing my deep voice. “You have one week to show you can control that lustful body of yours. If your dick squirts a single drop of your disgusting ball phlegm you’ll be stuck like this where you can’t hurt him,” she said in her shrill voice and poked my chest with her nail.

Just as suddenly as she appeared she was gone, and I felt a chill down my spine to my balls. I’d never felt a sensation like that before, but then I’d been a dude for like an hour. It was like you needed to pee, but different, and I could feel my recent dick stiffening again. Obviously the old crow had gifted me with a horniness attack as a parting gift. It was almost physically painful to not touch my junk and rub one out right then and there. The remainder of the way to school was agony as I jogged past worn-down houses built for Korean war vets back when, with MILFs getting in their cars to get to work. Occasionally a car with a babe from school would zip by, and when Riley from my class waved I was so close to bust a nut. I don’t think it was the actual jog that made me arrive at school all sweaty and smelly.

School was weird. Obviously I knew everyone in class, but somehow it wasn’t a shock to them that I was suddenly this muscular jock. My usual spot had been moved to back in the room, and the teachers weren’t really paying much of any attention to me. Which was probably a good thing, because man did I have a lot of issues to deal with. Who designed these desks? They were way too small to sit straight in. I found the only bearable way to sit in them was to slouch, legs spread apart to not slide off the seat. That however made a full display of my erratic boner. If I focused on what the teacher tried to tell us I could take attention away from my horny dick long enough for it to get soft, but as soon as one of the girls answered a question I could do nothing but stare at their back and remember from PE how they looked naked. Queue tenting and feeble attempts to cover it up.

I squirmed and sweated my way through the classes, half the time thinking a sweatshirt was the worst decision with how clammy I was and half the time thinking what a masterstroke it was to hide in it. I was close to losing it during lunch. You might think that just putting more people in a room wouldn’t be an issue. You can only have so many people in your field of view after all, and the ratio of hot to average people is the same. But somehow the average-looking people melt away and your eyes keep darting between the super hot people, most of which I’d showered with at cheerleading practice. I did my best to keep focus on the food, and it kind of helped because as soon as I started eating I realized how hungry I was.

Time dragged on during the afternoon, and I did my best to stay unfocused. Listen to the teacher, but zone out from class interactions and certainly everyone in class, and above all don’t think of your own body and how it feels. Most teachers left me alone, and the one that didn’t I managed to give an answer that satisfied him enough that I wasn’t totally asleep.

After school Cody and I went to the gym. I somehow knew that we usually did that on the days with no lacrosse practice, which was kind of unsettling to me. How much else of my mind and my memories had his grandmother soiled? It was nice to finally be alone with Cody, but he was acting quite different than he used to around me. I was after all just a teammate now, albeit someone he was friendly enough with to be his gym buddy. He seemed chattier and less guarded than I’ve ever known him. Lots of talk bout the cheerleading team and babes in general, which I did my best to deflect. We changed into our gym clothes, for me a grey tank top and shorts with a printed sunset on, and went to work. I was again shocked that I knew things I didn’t know before, like how to use the gym equipment and spot for Cody. He for his part continued to talk about girls, and that’s when it hit me, as I saw ourselves in a mirror wall. He was trying to impress me. Despite him being the captain, he clearly saw me as the top dawg, at least regarding girls and sex. The player among his peers.

As unsettling as some of the revelations at the gym had been, at the end, once I got Cody to focus on the exercises, it felt cleansing to work as hard as possible. It was like all of the sexual buildup over the day got released and replaced with glowing muscles. Most of it anyway. Walking back home from the gym alone with my thoughts I was confused with how the day had ended. Not only was I still with Cody, but I had somehow become his best buddy. It was bewildering why his granny had made that change, but I was grateful for it. Above all though it felt like I had a shot. I could survive one week of this and come out better for it.

Immediately as I stepped into the mess that was my room I wasn’t so sure anymore. The walls were filled with scantily clad women, just at the line of what is acceptable to sell to students. Pop stars, actresses, and photo models. But worse than that was the smell. That jock room smell, heated by sunlight all day. Even before this transformation nonsense I would associate it with sex, though from an entirely different point of view. I could feel the horniness coming crashing in fast and rushed to the bathroom for another shower, a colder one.

I spent all the time between dinner and bedtime playing on the X-box, trying to avoid thinking about anything but the game. Several times during the games I caught myself joining in with all the sexist shit my teammates kept saying over the voice chat. It wasn’t that it got me hard again, but it did make me worry about how easily bro speak kept creeping in.

The boner I woke up to was almost painful. The room was warm, I was hot, and my dick strained the fabric of the trunks I had gone to bed with. Barely awake my right hand almost automatically started to slowly grab and rub my hot rod when all of a sudden the last clouds of sleep vanished and in panic I realized what I was dangerously close to do. I jumped out of bed, rushed into the shower, and had another close call before I lowered the temperature. I needed to come up with some sort of plan to survive this week.

I threw together a shitty lunch box, protein bars and fruit, so I could avoid the school cafeteria. I put on a cut-off T to not melt in the classroom, and compression shorts as underwear in the hope of keeping that troublesome dick in place. I brought the tangled mess of headphones with me so I could tune out the class and focus on the book and the board. I was determined to not fail.

The day started out fine, though Mr. Carlton in English objected to me wearing the headphones. I told him to back off for one week, as I was on my period. The rest of the class laughed, he blushed, and left the matter. Honestly I scared myself again with that response as I kept having these short moments when I didn’t act like myself, but like this douchy frat dude.

At lunchtime I was starting to feel real horny again. If not for the compression shorts under my loose basket shorts I would be visibly tenting. I went to the stadium to get away from everyone and do a few laps in the hope that physical exercise would keep the libido in check, like what happened when I worked out with Cody. Just as I had hoped the area was deserted. No one else was dumb enough to be out on the track at midday in this hot weather. I wanted to get two or four laps in, to get 800 or 1600 meters, but it was too hot. After one lap I could feel the sweat running down my back. Instead I ended up cooling my dick in the drinking fountain by the bleachers to numb it a bit, downed half a gallon of water, and ate my packed lunch.

It felt like things were going downhill from there. Jessica kept staring at me during US history and then invited herself to team up with me during chemistry. It was like she didn’t care I had practically soaked my shirt during lunch. It took me longer than I want to admit, and a fragrant lab with ammonium chloride, to realize that perhaps she reacted the way she did because of how I smelled and not despite it. Of course that witch must have done something with my pheromones, if that wasn’t new-age bullshit. That meant I would have to keep my distance from girls too, because no way her magic worked one way.

Thankfully next on the schedule was Lacrosse training with Cody and the team. I knew all these guys since I started cheerleading, some longer, but this was way different. I was one of them, moreover one they looked up to almost as much as Cody. I ought to have been harder than ever getting into gear with all those muscled bodies, but I barely rocked a semi. Though to be fair I was probably the best looking guy of the bunch. All those thoughts just vanished as soon as we entered the field. It was just me, the team, the coach, and the game.

I don’t think I can put in words how exhilarating it was to not think of anything but what was happening right there and then. Time just rushed me by and we were heading back to the locker room again. Cody made sure to walk just next to me, patting my shoulder, and telling me how great it had been. He was right.

We talked about what had gone well, what we needed to improve, how Alex had screwed up all his passes, how Lauren from the cheerleader squad had looked at me throughout practice, how Cody’s group project in Spanish was falling apart, what games I had been playing last night. Not until we stepped into the showers did it hit me that this was all wrong. I was his girlfriend, not his mate. I don’t know if he noticed any shift in my demeanor, because as I was lost in those thoughts he began staring at me. “Fuck, you really are hung as a donkey” he said, and I looked down at my soapy hand absentmindedly jerking my fully erect dick off. Fuck! I stopped immediately. “Keep at it, bro. Looks like you need it. Why’s everyone so quiet?” he said and left the showers. I realized we were the only ones left, though we had been the last ones back into the locker room from the field.

The showers only had one setting, lukewarm, so I couldn’t go for a cold shower. I desperately needed one, apparently. I hadn’t even noticed what I was doing before Cody rescued me, and I wasn’t even through the second day. I quickly rinsed off the soap, made hasty work with the towel, and returned to the locker room.

“Looks like someone is ready,” a smirking Lauren said from across the empty locker room. I was too surprised to hide anything with the towel in my hand. I stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, completely naked, and with a raging hardon. “I asked everyone if we could have a moment,” she continued. She was wearing the white sneakers, the knee-high socks, and the cheerleading skirt from our uniform, but was topless. Her beautiful sand blonde, wavey hair reached down to her perky, round breasts. I had always been envious of that hair, but it was the boobs, jiggling as she approached me, that kept my attention. I could feel hormones rush into all the primate parts of my body while I stood still. She kept getting closer until at last her chest touched mine. It was like something snapped inside me, like a glass ampoule in a glow stick, that couldn’t be put back. I grabbed her and kissed her, long and deep. To hell with Cody’s granny’s witch games. She did this, so she can undo it. I just needed to empty my balls into this slut. She wasn’t wearing her spankies and I knew for a fact she was on her pills, so we were almost instantly on my towel on the bench with her legs over my shoulders, squeezing my fuck stick.

It was everything I had hoped for, though probably much quicker than she had hoped for, when my shattering orgasm came. Whoever said girls’ orgasms were better had never tried out this body. Fucking hell how good it felt filling the bitch up. She was still smirking when I pulled out my dick and leaked our smoothie blend on my towel. “Now be a slutty boy and keep the rest of the chicks off Cody,” she said, eyes glowing red.

[tf-central]

The Hoop (Pt. 2)

Its been a week since my first encounter with the Hoop. That first day after my transformation I went out to a local gay club. Standing in line, I looked down at my id to see my new face had replaced my former one and a new name had appeared, Jason Bowker. That night I hooked up with probably a dozen guys. Moaning as they caressed my god-like frame and took my 10-inch monster cock in their tight asses. Now I stood back in front of my bathroom mirror admiring my frame. I looked over to see the yellow hoop leaning against the wall. I had done a little experimenting over the week and from what I had gathered, the Hoop changes the very fabric of reality, based on what its holder wants to change. And if a change is not specified in the user's mind, a random one occurs, I learned that the hard way when one night I slipped the Hoop over my cock and it grew to almost 3 feet as it took on a shocking blue color. Now I stood in front of the mirror looking back at my reflection as I dropped my underwear and held my cock in my hand. I admired its slight curvature and beer-can-sized girth, and the veins that travel on the underside of my shaft. I grab the hoop and think of my next transformation before positioning my cock and balls through it. Immediately, the tingling sensation returns and I grow to full hardness. My cock reaches its full 10 inches of glory and just as it did previously, it continued to grow. I moan out as it reached 11 inches, precum dripping like a leaky faucet onto the tile below. My whole body seemed to glow in a bright sheen of sweat that dripped off my body as my cock neared 12 inches, while my balls drop lower. They grew and swelled to the size of avocados, black hair enveloping them as the stench of musk and sweat reached my nose. I pull back the hoop right before what feels like gallons of cum pours out of my foot-long cock, coating the mirror in strands of my thick baby batter. I brace my hands against the counter as a ride out my almost minute-long orgasm. I stare up at my gorgeously handsome face as sweat drips from my hair. I begin to wonder what else this hoop could do.

[octuscle-deactivated20250620]

Chronivac support? Something's not right! I had a perfect plan, let me tell you. My husband is a skinny meek pale blonde guy, and I was tired of having to cheat and sneak around to get someone sexy to fuck me. (Not that it's hard. Buff Latinos like me are hard to pass up ;P) So I set up a gradual week-long transformation to turn my husband into a confident hot jock version of himself, and set it running two days ago. It's working! He's already a little taller, a littler buffer, a little cockier... but I'm looking kinda deflated and slimmed down, as if the Chronivac is taking from me to boost him. What's going on? And can you stop it??

I am very sorry that the support was not manned the last days. And obviously the process is finished by now. You have checked the "Keep average values constant in relation" in the process. A function that is not used very often… But it obviously worked perfectly. I think that you can be quite satisfied with your friend.

Definitely a really hot jock. And I bet he fucks you more often than you would have liked. Although you're not exactly buff anymore, Latino boy!

If I see it correctly, you went to the sea for a few days. Enjoy it. And now that the ongoing process is over, you can put on a few pounds of muscle again. Whether you get them from your boyfriend, you may decide all alone!

[maletf32-deactivated20250513]

New Roommate

“What do you mean I wasn’t always black bro?” your ‘roommate’ says, clearly a little offended. 

You had arrived back to your apartment from your classes, and there was this muscular black guy chilling on the couch playing video games. You asked him who he was, and he was insisting he was your roommate.

“I don’t know what’s going on right now, but you’re not my roommate!” you say “My roommate is some skinny white dude named Mike! Not…?”

“Marlon. And dude, I really don’t know what’s gotten into you. If you don’t believe me just check my phone, plenty of pictures of us together man. You know, since we’ve been roomies since freshman year and all.” 

He hands you his phone, and as you scroll you see picture after picture of you and Marlon hanging out, all these going back to freshman year with a picture of both of you moving in to the same dorm.

“What the hell is this? How did you edit all these?” you say.

“Bro, they aren’t edited. Jez, next you’re going to tell me that you’re not black!”

“Haha, very funn..” you suddenly look down. Where there should have been a flat white chest, there were two slabs of thick black muscle. You panickedly turn your head to a mirror, and there is a muscular black jock looking back at you. 

“W-what the hell?” You gasp, feeling yourself up. Yep it’s real; your hands glide up your thighs, chest, and then to your head where you feel curly hair.

Wait a second, your ID! That surely would show your actual self. You fumble it out of your gym shorts, excitement quickly turning to dread. There on the picture was the same handsome black face. Even worse, there was a different name on the ID, DeRon.

Ugh, that’s not your name, its DeRon! You mean it was DeRon! Fuck, you couldn’t remember what your real name was.

“Everything okay DeRon?” Marlon says, gently shaking you out of your reverie.

“No man, it’s not!” you say. There must be something, anything that could prove you weren’t this hot black jock named DeRon. In a last ditch attempt, you pull up your phone, desperately trying to find anything that could prove you had changed.

Your phone yielded nothing; shirtless pics of you flexing, you chilling with Marlon on your coach, a dick pic of .. wait what? You stopped your frantic scroll, staring at a black slab of meat saved on your phone.

“Hehe, that’s a hot one huh babe?” Marlon said over your shoulder, as he wrapped his arms around you. 

Babe? Wait, was this his dick? Were you boyfriends or something? As Marlon groped you, you felt your own dick harden. Your own fat black cock; and why wouldn’t you have one? You’re black after all, just like your room.. boyfriend .

Marlon notices your arousal and saunters over to you. “Mind if I take care of that bro?” he teases, as he forcefully strips off your gym shorts, revealing your fat erection.

He does the same, and soon both your cocks are out and hard as fuck. You couldn’t help but start to makeout with him, each grinding against the other. Things escalate, two fat black cocks in both of your mouths. Its too much for both of you, as you both cum deep into each other.

“Why don’t we clean off in the shower together?” you say, cum dripping from your lips.

“Of course!” your boyfriend grins, happy you are back to your normal self

[markhunk]

[citizenies]

Someone somewhere wanted to create chaos with Chemical S6xC which causes change of ones body mostly of its gender.

Currently there was a fashion show being held in town and the culprit had spread the gas and people suddenly changed here and there. 

The people near and behind backstage were most affected since it was released at that location and the once beautiful women models had become epitome of masculinity whilst the opposite for men. 

The culprit was extremely pleased with what happened and recorded everything  especially how women burst out of their outfits while their body was being changed by the chemical