octuscle

[octuscle]

1 month ago i tried this app in my phone called chronivac, but i ruibed my life by mistake, i tried to see how i would look when i reached some ages, i saw myself at 25, at 33, at 46 and 52, and i fell in love with myself, i decided to edit myself more giving me muscles like a bodybuilder and making myself very hairy, i kept playing with it, but i accidentally threw a glass of soda on it and the computer shut down, i tried to turn it on to repair these changes i did to myself, but i couldnt, i started to freak out when suddenly my dad came to my room after he heard the loud noises, he didnt recognized me and started screaming at me to get the hell out of his house, i jumped from the window and ran as far as i could, now 1 month after that, im a homeless man, im already used to this life a bit, already have some friends out here, but its sad seeing pictures of myself in the street saying "¿have you seen this person?", is there a solution for me?

Well, what can I say… On the one hand, a really heartbreaking story. On the other hand, it's also really tragic that you got stuck in this very body. Yes, there's a bodybuilder's career in that body. But let's not kid ourselves, that was a few years ago…

Unfortunately, your case is a real challenge… Your account is not deactivated. And as long as it's not, I can undo a maximum of three changes. But when I look at you in that used-up body in the shabby living room of the homeless shelter, anything is better than your current body, right? So, undo the last three changes and you're now in the body of the 25-year-old bodybuilder. Nice, I'd say… The couch is no longer in a homeless shelter, but in a frat house. If it stank of piss and garbage a moment ago, it now smells of sweat, beer and testosterone. Lots of testosterone. And yes, God knows you're not innocent of that… Now we just have to get the story straight with your parents… Unfortunately, I can no longer change you. But I can make them fit in with the new you.

They had you very early on. You were more of an accident. Your mother was 18 and your father 17 when you were born. It was difficult for them back then, but of course it's cool now that you still have such young parents. And the fact that your parents hardly had any money back then made you a fighter. Nothing can bring you down. At least not so quickly. But now relax. Your bros will be here in a minute with beer and burgers and then you can watch the game. And let's see what happens afterwards.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #age reduction #age progression #ai image #chronivac

[octuscle]

Hi Chronivac Support, can you help me out with this request? I don't like my stepdad for being an annoying jock because I am nerdy and sophisticated. I wake up one morning and my DNA and body transforms as if my biological father never existed and my step dad had been my real dad. My hair turns ginger like his, my skin pale like his, my muscles grow to become a jock like him. My memories with my old dad slowly fade away and all I remember was growing up with my ginger jock dad, him teaching me to workout, how to play sports, my personality becomes more like his (a carefree simple jock that only cares about working out, sports, showing off my body, and getting laid). My new job is a personal trainer at my dad's gym. I forget all of my past life, solidifying me as my new ginger jock father's ginger jock son. I am happy and content with this, forgetting my previous body and life. Like father, like son.

Phew! What am I supposed to do with this request now? You're happy, you look amazing, you can tear up trees and fuck anything you want… You have a happy relationship with your mother and your father (who is no longer your stepfather)…

So, what exactly do you want me to do for you? Open up old wounds, let you grieve for your father and let you tear yourself apart with your stepfather? Or give you the opportunity to start a career as one of the hottest personal trainers? Don't take offense… But I choose the latter. Especially since I've seen your stepfather:

Shit, if it's your destiny to look like that in 35 years, then I'd say congratulations!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #ginger tf #chronivac #ai image

[octuscle]

Old

When you're skinny and weak, it's no fun being young. Richard wasn't even particularly clever or funny or charismatic. Richhard was just a lop! No longer being 18. No longer being mistaken for 16. No longer being bullied… Richard wanted nothing more! Regularly attending a gym seemed the logical consequence. Train hard. That must lead to muscles. And tougher facial features. And more respect from others…. But the first few visits to the gym were more than demoralizing. The other guys here were so much bigger than him. He looked ridiculous in his cheap clothes from school sports. Richard moved his work outs to the early mornings or late evenings when he was almost alone. At some point he was asked if he would like to earn a few extra dollars. Soon, when he trained in the evening, Richard would lock up the gym after his workout, clean up, mop the floor and get everything ready for the next morning. This had many advantages. He had money for better clothes and even got an employee discount at the gym store. And he could train completely alone and undisturbed after the official end of business.

That had an effect. Slowly. Far too slowly. After six months, perhaps no one was laughing at Richrad anymore. But no one showed him any respect from the members or colleagues who occasionally crossed his path despite his training and working hours.

Richard had already heard about this Chronivac. It was used to support particularly solvent customers with their transformations. The device had to be in the managing director's office. But it was always locked there. There was no chance of getting to the device. Until this one evening. The evening when Richard walked through the corridors with the mop. And the door to the office was open. Wide open. And this device was lying on the desk. Obviously on. The display bathed the office in a very faint blue light.

"Scanning the client" was written on the display… It looked like a normal smartphone app. Richard pressed "okay" and a monitor appeared. Richard held the device in front of his face. There was no button like on a camera. But after a few moments there was an acoustic signal and the message "Number of virtual training units" appeared on the display. Damn, what was that supposed to mean? Was the device simulating training sessions? Richard trained three times a week. 12 times a month. 144 times a year. It would be cool to be four years older. 22 years old. A college jock who had been training hard for four years. Richard did a quick mental calculation. That was about… He heard footsteps. Shit! 500 had to be about right. He typed in 600 and pressed enter. And carefully put the device back on the desk. Hopefully that had worked. He took the mop and ran to the showers. And while he was mopping the floor, Nick, the manager, came in. He greeted Richard and asked if everything was OK. It was already late and Richard should leave. All right, Richard replied. The message "Transformation started. Perform 500 monthly training cycles. Transformation within the next eight hours."

As he has done for almost 42 years, Rick was one of the first to enter the gym. He had been a member longer than any other guy pumping here. Longer than anyone who worked here. Rick was simply part of the inventory. He was the janitor, the manager, the go-to guy here. And a role model for every man who trained here. Yes, Rick had never become one of the musclemen who also trained here. But he had also always been clean. Never cheated. And a body that still worked like a well-oiled machine despite his almost 60 years of life was his thanks. Yes, his beard and hair were gray. But he still had the body of a 30-year-old athlete. And with that, he had honestly earned the respect of everyone here.

Inspiration by @workinprogress1986

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #age progression #ai image

[octuscle]

There’s this huge roided guy at my gym and he’s kinda my crush. Do you think you could turn me into a super roided guy like him to be his boyfriend or husband?

Let me check that… Your crush may not look like this… But he's into the "muscle daddy" type. Let's see what we can do about that…

As you enter the gym, your gaze falls into a mirror. You are neither tall, nor muscular, nor a daddy. You are an athletic blond college boy… God knows it's not bad. But you don't stand a chance with your crush. However, that has already changed when you step out of the changing room onto the training floor. You've spent the last three years training for all you're worth using all the chemical aids available. And it shows. Some of the bigger boys here give you a respectful nod. Your crush continues to ignore you.

You're lifting more than you've ever lifted before. Your moans boom like thunder through the gym. A muscleman who doesn't even know your name assists you. Your hair gets darker and darker. Your beard shadow is pitch black. Your crush continues to ignore you.

You need a protein shake. You've been training hard for an hour. Your T-shirt is lying in tatters somewhere in the corner. It's actually against the house rules to train bare-chested. But you're so tall that there's nothing in your size in the gym store. The first gray hairs are showing in your neatly trimmed beard and at your temples. That's nothing special. In your family, most men were gray by the age of 50. The hunk behind the counter hands you the shake with a fist bump. Your crush continues to ignore you.

You must be getting to the end of your training. It's almost time for sunset prayers. Normally you don't take it too seriously. But on a Friday… You take a look in the mirror. You actually like yourself better with fur on your chest. But you're in competition form. Tomorrow you'll be on stage. The absolute favorite in your age group. So it's a good thing that you went to the full-body epilation yesterday after the hammam. You're paying double the price. Because you simply have a lot more skin that needs to be freed of hair. Your crush… Your crush tries to make eye contact with you.

You look at the weakling a little pitifully. You don't like men whose necks aren't at least twice as wide as their heads. But the weakling has some pretty good beginnings. And let's not kid ourselves. He's still a lot more muscular than most of the other guys here. Your crush asks what you plan to do after training. You're not a man of big words. You head towards the changing rooms. And with a slight movement of your head, you gesture for him to follow you. You don't need to turn around. He follows you like a dog follows its master.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #race change #age progression #ai image

[octuscle]

Damn, these stories have got me jealous and inspired. Maybe you can help me like you helped these other guys. I’m a skinny nerd with curly blonde hair stuck in a research job but I’m too lazy to work out and too scared to get a short haircut. Make me a wrestler, a construction worker, a footballer, I don’t care - just save me, please!!

You're sitting in your lab… Looking into the microscope. And you're starting to get bored. I don't know what's bothering you, but you take a microscope slide and spit on it. It's cool how your spit looks. You have an idea. You take your impressive cock out of your pants. And start wanking. And wank all over the next slide. Damn, it's these, these… Whatever the fuck it's called. The shit that makes babies. It doesn't matter. Looks like the tadpoles you used to catch. Hehehe, it was always a test of courage to eat them. Didn't do you any harm either. Then you remember that you're hungry. You take the trolley with the mop and push it towards the cafeteria. You have to take out the garbage anyway.

Even if you're not wearing a T-shirt, you're still sweating in your rubber dungarees. Thank God you've just shaved your hair. Long hair sucks. It gets in the way at work, it gets in the way during sport, it gets in the way during a proper fight in the pub or at the soccer stadium. And those are somehow the three most important things in your life. well, not work actually. But you have to earn money somehow. And unfortunately you're far too stupid to do such a shitty lab job…

The fresh night air is good for you. Outside in the parking lot is a summer party. The nerds and other weaklings are having fun at a kind of company fair. Not your thing. You're about to call it a day. And then it's off to the gym. Start by hitting the punching bag for an hour. And then let's see… You'll have a good time. Actually, you always have fun!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #nerd to hunk #getting dumber #ai image

[octuscle]

Actually, he wasn't my type at all. I'm more into hairy, muscular Arabs… The guy was rather slim. Caucasian. But he exuded this masculine dominance. A superiority. And a horny self-confidence. I couldn't help it. "Like"

It takes me a few seconds to come back to my senses. This is no longer my office, where I had definitely been surfing through NSFW content just moments ago. My computer is gone. My shirt and jacket are gone. The sun is shining through the dirty window of a shabby hotel room. The "No Smoking" sign is in the wastepaper basket along with a few cigarette butts. And in my mouth is a freshly lit cigarette butt. I had never smoked before in my life. But my body needs nicotine. And sex. Shit, I' was 'm so horny. There are a few stains on the cheap carpet that must have come from my cum or that of other men. At that moment, the cell phone on the desk vibrates. A new message. "Master, when can I be your cunt today?" My inbox is full of messages like this. There are dialogs in which men sent me impressive pictures of their cocks and, even more often, their assholes. I didn't send any pictures. The replies I sent were usually short. So I simply copy one and send it to the last sender "200 euros plus 'tip' to [email protected]. Then we'll see". I have no idea what I meant by "tip". It takes less than two minutes for PayPal to notify me that 400 euros had been received. Shit, what on earth am I supposed to do now? Half an hour later, I had smoked three cigarettes. I had stomped the last one out on the carpet with my combat boots. I had been surfing through my cell phone apps. But I ain't any smarter. But my cock is hard as steel. And then the room phone rings. "Hey Ronny, it's Marek from reception. There's another pervert for you." Send him up," I reply, shocked by my own smoky, masculine and dominant voice. Shit, shit, shit! What had I gotten out of it so far? I obviously have very active and successful accounts on OnlyFans and other relevant portals. But when I looked at my emails, I also had to have a "bourgeois" profession as a car mechanic. Apparently I live near Nuremberg in Bavaria and am quite successful at humiliating other men for money. Shit! I'm some kind of hooker!

There's a knock at the door. Bloody hell. I take a drag from the cigarette, open the door and blow the smoke in the guy's face. "Have you got the money?" I ask. "But I paid via PayPal…" I take his chin in my hand. I pull his ear to my mouth. And I hiss quietly, "Dude! That wasn't my question? Do you have the money?" The guy takes out his wallet and gives me a 50 euro bill. "That's all I've got…" "That's fine," I reply and gesture for him to come in. "Go on, strip! Keep your underpants on." The guy doesn't hesitate for a second. His boner is even bigger than mine. "And now go and get a packet of fags from Marek at reception. Tell him to book it to the room." "But I can't go out like this!" Smack! The guy deserves a good slap in the face. I grab his chin again. "What's it called?" "By your command, master!" "That's a good boy, bitch!"

A few minutes later he's back. Marek is behind him, filming everything with his cell phone. "On the floor!" I growl. My customer doesn't hesitate for a second. I sit down next to him, raise my arm, press his face into my armpit with my other hand and just say, "Lick it clean!" He licks as if his life depends on it. Every now and then I pull his head down and spit in his face. "So, bitch? How's that?" "Very good," he moans. You slap him in the face. "It's 'Very good, master', you dirty piece of shit". Marek calls out to me that the next customer is already waiting downstairs. I collect all the snot and spit it in the bitch's face. "Who owns you?" I ask. "You, master!" "That's right, you bitch. Now fuck off, you perverted pig!"

Humiliating my next customer is almost routine. Shit, I love showing other men that they're nothing but miserable filth. And that I can dominate them at will. The picture @milankotowyc posted of me has a new like. Fuckin' deserved!

Your last like is your new body. Who's winning?

Dumb muscle himbo for me it seems!

#male tf #age reduction #chav tf #alpha tf #dominance #inked man

[octuscle]

Can't stop lifting n pumping. Dude, I don't understand uh word of what you're writing. That's uh hell of uh lot of letters, words, stuff n shit! do I have to read all that? I mean, in da time it takes me to read all that, I cud do uh set of bench presses. N at least den I understand what I'm doing. When I read your shit, I don't understand uh word. What's this shit about cursing n stinking n shit? I smell what uh proper gym bro smells like. Nah one haz ever complained to me.

so, I don't know what you want from me. But do you know where my sweat shorts are, bruh? I mean, I can't work out in my speedos. My whole bush is sticking out! bruh, I mean, I shave twice uh week. But I feel like my fur is growing. It's almost like I'm cursed or somethin.

Found pic of my new me just a few hours later @maxx-magnum

I went to the gym yesterday. I don't go there regularly, just to keep fit. When I was looking for a free locker, I accidentally opened one that was occupied but not locked.

I totally slammed that thing shut like, ASAP, no questions asked! It was, like, a matter of serious honor, you know what I'm saying? Yo, I swear I can't shake off the stench of those gnarly gym clothes from my nostrils!

Like, what's the deal with that, dude! It's like my nose has been hijacked by the funk and it won't let go. Send help, bruh! And y do i say "bruh"?

Hmmm seems like some curse left behind and forgotten, not to worry I'm sure its nothing too serious, in fact a lot of guys get scared by the word "curse" and don't see it for the blessing that it really is. That terrible smell hasn't just latched onto the inside of your nose dude, its latched onto you that's why you smell it non stop and you'll probably notice that when you don't go to the gym for a day the smell gets worse. A little counter intuitive I know but hey some people use thing sort stuff to encourage them to hit the gym more. You might want to up your 1 day a week routine to a 7 days a week policy unless you want to hold the world record for the worlds worst stench by the end of the week.

What's with saying "bruh, bro and duuuhhh" so often you ask? I dunno maybe the original owner of the locker made a wish to fit in at the gym more but that's most of your vocabulary now. You are still you, at least on the inside but nobody really knows about that anymore because you talk like a fucking moron so you get treated like one. It seems your muscles are really ballooning up too. This is probably for the best, you sweat a lot, say bro non stop may as well have the size to go with it otherwise people might think you are weird, better to just conform to the stereotype.

Huh? what's that? "like duhhh, bro can you errrrr, fix duuhhhh curses bro" Sorry my dumbass is a little rusty but I think you're asking for these wonderful gifts to be removed? nah man I won't be doing that you definitely came to the wrong place because I think all men should be like this. In fact I think you'd look better 10x bigger and sweatier but I guess this is a good starting point. But hey, the choice is still yours, either turn into a putrid smelly dumb cunt.....or be that with huge muscles. Better hit the gym dude I can already smell you getting worse.

#male tf #muscle tf #bear tf

[octuscle]

I'm on a flight to Tokyo, and I'm definitely going to stand out amongst the locals... what should I do?

I always have the greatest respect for visits to Asian countries myself. So it's more than natural that you need support. I myself have had very good experiences with a preset that I am sending you. I recommend that you activate the preset as soon as possible, the transformation is set to last 12 hours.

Okay, it's exemplary that you had your cell phone in flight mode, so the message only reaches you after the plane is already on the tarmac on its way to the terminal. With your seatbelt still fastened, you activate the default setting. After the first few seconds, the first effect becomes apparent. The tension is gone. This is not the first time you have landed in Haneda. Only tourists and fools jump up and open the luggage compartments before the seatbelt signs have gone out. You are disciplined. Discipline is the only way to survive a juggernaut like Tokyo. You know that. The idiots around you don't.

You say goodbye to the person sitting next to you. You say goodbye to the flight crew when you leave the plane. In broken Japanese. You struggle with the language. Even though you've been learning it for over a year. At least you recognize a few of the characters at the airport. At least you can understand fragments of the conversations around you. And you know your way around the airport. Even if you're not the first to jump on, you're one of the first at the baggage carousel. It pays to have a Japanese ID card. Wait a minute! A Japanese ID card? Sure, you've been living here for years. Tokyo is your second home. Naturalization was only logical. You have a Japanese great-grandmother. That made it easier. You inherited your black hair from her.

You look at the people with the big suitcases with pity. They're either going to waste a fortune on cabs now. Or they'll have real problems on the train during rush hour. You've packed efficiently. And your advantage is that you stand out from the crowd. 190 cm… That makes you a giant in Japan. And a colossus at 120 kg. When you finally take the steps from the subway into the open air, the default setting has already been active for three hours. You walk the last few meters to your hotel. It's so nice to be back here. Yes, you actually live in London. But you spend as much time as you can in Tokyo for business and pleasure. For years now. You speak the language very well, you're up to date with all the fashions and gossip. And a regular guest here at the hotel. The concierge addresses you by name. You greet him back by name. Nevertheless, you exchange business cards. Tradition is tradition. The building trembles. A slight earthquake.You don't know how many earthquakes this is in your life. It's not even worth mentioning in your conversation.

Now a quick bowl of noodle soup. And then to the gym. You've spent too much time motionless on the plane and in the subway. You need action now. The feeling that your body has given its last. And then a hot bath and a massage. Your buddy at reception has already arranged everything. You just quickly take your luggage upstairs and get changed. And then you run down the stairs to the gym. The earth has just shaken a little again. The last thing you need now is to get stuck in the elevator.

Two hours later, when Atsushi presses his elbows into your back, all is right with the world again. Atsushi is a master of his trade. And you've known each other for ages. In fact, you played baseball in the same club as children before you moved to Europe with your parents. It was a real coincidence when you found each other on one of your visits here on Grindr. It's one of the biggest and hardest reasons why you're staying here at the hotel. Rarely have you experienced a better masseur who is both good for your back and offers a first-class happy ending. He stands behind you and massages your neck. And his hard-on sticks out in front of your face. Shit, if he doesn't suck you off right away, you'll cum without him laying a hand on you.

You two spend the evening at karaoke. Unfortunately, Asushi can't stay in your hotel room tonight. But he will take you upstairs. And you fuck him as a thank you. Asushi thanks you with a deep kiss goodbye. He says that your education in Europe has paid off. Nobody fucks like real Japanese men who learned to fuck in Paris. You grin. Well. An almost real Japanese man. Your one grandmother was English. You owe your blue eyes to her.

Get up, go to the gym, take a hot bath. That's how your next morning starts. Not easy with the jet lag. But you have to get back into the rhythm of the city of your ancestors quickly. The first meeting is at 07:30. Time is money. And life in Tokyo is not cheap. "それで、侍よ？よく眠れましたか？" Asushi sent a picture of his morning wood. You return the favor with a selfie, freshly showered. "よく眠れたよ！しかし、私には硬いもの���柔らかいものがある。疲れ果てた夜に備えよ," you reply. "はい、侍よ！" You're looking forward to the end of the day!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #race change

[octuscle]

I like to be a fighter from Albania, Serbia or another country like these: good looking, strong and proud and producing at least 12 sons as little fighters too. Dream or reality? you choose, chronivac

Strange wish for a 45-year-old administrative employee at Swiss Post. This is not exactly the place for fighters…

When you finish work, your body feels exhausted. Not like after a physically strenuous day… More like after hard work. Or after a visit to the gym. Not that you've ever been to a gym… Or ever worked hard physically… It's a strange feeling. And it doesn't go away when you enjoy the end of the day with a beer in front of the TV as usual. Actually, you should have been watching a thriller right now. But you're watching the Serbian soccer league. One hand on the beer bottle. One always on your cock and your balls…

Something is different the next morning… You have a lot more beard than usual. Looks good. Why do you always go to the office clean-shaven? You trim the beard a little. Feels very normal. Where's your deodorant? Never mind, I'll have to go without it today… You grab your briefcase, pack your breakfast sandwich and set off for work on your bike. You sit down at your desk. You start working on files. You have trouble sitting still. Shit, you need to move! During your lunch break, you go to the Balkan grill. And you don't realize that you're talking in Serbian to the other men who are taking their break standing up. After your lunch break, you make your rounds through the building. Your job at the in-house post office is not particularly demanding. But you can't imagine working at a desk. You need to get moving. That's why you can't wait to go to the gym after work. Get your muscles burning first. And then train your skills as a street fighter in the ring.

It's a long streetcar ride to the council housing estate on the outskirts of the city. It's one of the first warm evenings. A few of your neighbors are sitting with a beer at the playground in front of one of the run-down apartment blocks. You join them. You don't feel like going back to the small apartment you share with your siblings.

You share your room with two of your brothers. They both work on the assembly line and are on the late shift this week. You try not to wake anyone when you get up at 4:30 am. The garbage collection job is hard work, but it pays well. You can save a lot of money so that you can soon afford your own little house in Belgrade. Zurich is a good city to earn money. But not to live here.

You are a man's household. You can see that. Your bathroom is pretty filthy. Well, you don't really hit the toilet bowl yourself when you piss. Apart from that, just a bit of washing up. What's the point of more? You'll start sweating faster than you'd like.

Most of the guys who work with you are from the Balkans. Many from Croatia and Bosnia. Their parents often fled from your parents during the civil war. But you don't give a damn. The Balkans are the Balkans. In a foreign country with the snooty Swiss, that welds you together. You are a close-knit community. A community of real men. Not wimps like the locals. You are brothers. You have more brothers than the six men you share the apartment with. And you all meet up at the gym in the evenings. The only place where you spend a few of your hard-earned Swiss francs. The rest is saved for a better future.

There is no better place than the gym. Hard training, hard fights, hard sex. Yes, sometimes you also have to bang a woman. So as not to get out of practice. And Swiss whores are easy to come by. You're all real guys who look and smell like men. The whores don't find anything like that among their fellow countrymen. But it's even better if one of your compatriots or an inferior Christian from the Balkans loses to you in a boxing match. The loser gets fucked. And you fuck a lot!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #tank top #age reduction #ai image #race change

[octuscle]

Support, the stupid app isn’t working. I’m a grad student competing with a friend of mine for an internship and I can’t risk him stealing my career, so I thought I’d give him a new line of work. I don’t want to steal his youth or make him ugly or anything, I just need him out of the way, so I scanned a guy in his 20s too (some dumbass construction worker, shaved head, tats, didn’t seem too bright - let’s just say he looked like he preferred the gym to an office, not the kind of guy who’s gonna steal my internship) and told the app to start the transformation. Problem is my friend hasn’t changed at all. He’s sitting right next to me and looks exactly the same, and meanwhile I’m getting a headache trying to sort this out. Did I do something wrong, bro? Uh, support, I mean-

Bruh, did you write this support request yourself? Or did someone help you with it? I mean, the statement about the student must have been an oversight. You? At a university? I would never have thought that you could be too stupid even for the job of a mover. But I'm sorry to have to say it: You really are just very stupid! You're lucky that you have a colleague who has experience and who will do the thinking for you as long as you regularly suck his cock in the removal van. And secondly, apart from your atrophied brain, you have everything you need for the job of a removal man…

You've got the muscles to get stuck in. You're young and independent. You have the looks that make every customer melt away. And you spread the male musk that affects your victims like a narcotic. So you can get anything you want: The best jobs, the most generous clients and the best fast sex. On the loading area between moving boxes. In the almost empty apartments before you even load the mattresses. Or sometimes in the toilet of a service station. You are hot. And always horny. And now you want a few more IQ points? Or what's your problem? Forget it. You're perfect for your career, we won't change that…

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #ai image

[octuscle]

Hii, can you help me with the chronivac? Im a 17 years old teen, i used my faked my dad identity to get the chronivac, just vecause im tired of people thinking im a 13 years old teen, so i wanted to make me a bit taller, muscular, and hairier, the app suggested some modifications that i just accepted without reading, now a week later i look like a 40-ish years old hairy beef hunk man, im currently working in a construction zone because i couldnt end my studies, i rent a small apartment because my parents kicked me, apparently they say im a grown ass man, that failed in life. Is there something to do? If i keep aging i will look the same age of my dad in just a couple of days.

Dude, you've obviously had a bit too much sun? Are you 17? What about your father? Bruh, I'm sorry to say that your father has been dead for four years. He would have been over 90 years old by now… I mean, you're 53 years old too… Although you can only tell by the gray hairs in your beard. Otherwise you'd pass for 40 years old. And with your broad back and tight ass from behind, you could easily pass for 30. In stark contrast to your twin brother. The pencil pusher is fat and pale. Shit, you couldn't imagine life in an office. Nor one with a wife and child. Shit, how could your brother become such a philistine? And you such a hot stud?

So, Bud! What exactly is your problem again? That people think you're younger than you actually are? Honestly now? You're the first person your age to have a problem with that…

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age progression #ai image

[octuscle]

Total and life-changing solar eclipse

Michael was more than pissed off. He had been planning this April 8, 2024 for over two years. Almost all his friends from astronomy class had gone to Mazatlan, Austin or Niagara Falls. Despite all the logistical challenges, Michael wanted to see the solar eclipse at the Epi Center in Nazas. He was on the road for over 36 hours. And now his luggage with all his equipment had not arrived. And he was three and a half hours late. All he had was his special sunglasses. No telescope. No binoculars. All lost somewhere between Dublin and Mexico City… The sky was already darkening. The excursion he had signed up for was long gone somewhere in the mountains. Here, right in front of the airfield, it was full of amateurs. Idiots who didn't understand the significance of this eclipse from the Saros cycle. They probably thought it was a miracle. Michael checked Google Maps. He didn't have time to drive to the hotel first. There was no cab. But according to the satellite image, there was a large parking lot or something similar not far away. Good north-south orientation. Michael should have a good view. And hopefully it was emptier and quieter there…

He cursed the fact that he had to watch the eclipse with the naked eye. He cursed the fact that his sun cream with the sun protection factor was God knows where. His red hair shone in the sun. And he could feel himself getting sunburnt. He probably stank of sweat. The last shower had been during the stopover in Chicago. Maybe he should have flown to Toronto after all. But now he was here. And totality was getting closer and closer.

Michael had been fascinated by astronomy ever since he could read. And he had taught himself at the age of four. Michael was the epitome of a nerd. Unathletic. No friends. Assistant in the computer science department at Dublin University. And now he was standing here alone in the sweltering heat in this parking lot. His head on his back. Above him, a spectacle that rarely existed in this form. His anger evaporated. His fascination with the play of sun and moon prevailed. He no longer felt the heat. In fact, it was starting to get cooler. Cooler and cooler. And it was also slowly getting noticeably darker. Until it was as if someone had switched off the light. Michael stared open-mouthed at the sky. He was overwhelmed. The Black Sun was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. All his exertions were forgotten. The thousands of euros he had spent on the plane tickets: all a trifle for this spectacle in the sky. He put his head back even further in fascination. And he fell backwards onto the ground.

Maldita sea, Miguel thought. He must have fainted a few seconds after falling to the ground. He held the back of his head. That could be a nasty bump on the head… His sunglasses had fallen off his face… He looked at the sun with a wink. Yes, you could still see the shadow of the moon in front of the sun. And? What was so special about it? It got dark every evening. Today it was also noon. Miserable astronomy crap… Even his kunkels had all gone out to a hill outside the village… He didn't care.

His ball had rolled a few meters further. Miguel took it and practiced shooting baskets. By the time his buddies got back before that nerd thing, he was in shape. And then he would beat the losers. Like every time. Miguel was simply the basketball star of his village. And he was happy when all the strangers had finally left and things were quiet again.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #race change #ai image

[octuscle]

I went through art school for 6 years and didn't try weed once! Can I get a college stoner preset please to make up for that lost experience.

Art academy? Six years? Without smoking pot? Man, that's more than impressive! I mean, I studied economics… It was difficult to get by without weed…

In art history you discuss Bunuel's Andalusian Dog. Pretty heavy fare. Shit, Dali and Bunuel must have been smoking a lot when they made it. And a fellow student says that you can only endure the movie if you're totally stoned. He asks you if you have anything there. Without giving it much thought, you reach into the inside pocket of your jacket and hand him a small packet of Black Afghan. He discreetly hands you a few bills. And then you turn back to the cinematic realization of the collage principle. Only after a few minutes do you realize what you've just done.

You know in which corner of the campus the stoners meet. Everyone knows. Everyone tolerates it. You've never been there before. But somehow you're drawn there now. And while there are supplies for your customers in your inside pocket, you have a few finished joints in the battered tin in the outside pocket of your old army parker. Shit, weren't you wearing a plain black short coat? Where did that fucked up old olive green thing come from?

You light a joint. You don't care where the parker comes from. You don't give a shit. You couldn't care less with the best will in the world. That feels good. And above all, it gave you a whole range of really good ideas. You are damn creative in the studio today. You are developing a somewhat strange style that is rather unusual for you. But your professor praises you for freeing yourself from your usual technocratic uptightness. A good description of how you feel now.

At some point, when you can take no more and look at the result of today's creative process with satisfaction, you run your fingers through your hair, smeared with paint. Long hair… And you have a beard! Well, you've grown it over the last few years. How many years have you been studying? For ages! You're a fixture on campus… You're here for artistic self-improvement. You're here to provide students and faculty with all kinds of mind-expanding substances. And as long as your parents' money lasts, you'll stay here.

Yes, your flat share is a bit filthy. But you're like the creative center of the art school campus. A bit like the salons of the bohemians in 19th century Paris. Combined with a coffee shop in contemporary Amsterdam. You think that's a cool combination. Enjoy it!

#male tf #reality change #chronivac #tank top #ai image #stoner tf

[octuscle]

Hi:) what kind of stories do you like the most in terms of writing ? (Jock, bikers etc)

What kind of stories do you not like and/or have too much inboxes of?

Thanks! I love your stories btw

I have been thinking about this ask for a long time. I've been asked this question, or something very similar, several times before. And I have answered it. And I get asked it again. And asked again. And I get, even though I've written that I don't like celebrity TFs and reruns and sequels, requests for celebrity TFs and reruns and sequels over and over again.

I've been writing my stories here for about a year. I've posted almost 1,000 stories. Let's assume I've spent about an hour on each story. 1,000 hours of Tumblr! Almost three hours a day on average. Plus time for role-playing and the like.

If I had spent half the time in the pool or at the gym. And spent the other half learning Spanish… I wouldn't have an ounce of fat left on my body and would be fluent in Spanish. If I had tutored during that time, I could have earned 20 K euros. Ko-Fi earned me a staggering 15 USD in that time.

I always say that I wrote the stories here primarily for myself. Yes, the writing was hot. But the stories used to be in my head while I was jerking off. Was that worse or better?

There are very, very few people here with whom I had a lot of fun chatting. Really nice guys with whom I lived out hot fantasies. Virtually. Nothing was real. But still hot. I got a lot of likes and reblogs from a lot of people. I thank them for that. I received real appreciation from very, very few people. Thank you very, VERY much for that!

It wasn't exactly the question I was asked, but I asked myself which transformations I like best. My own is my favorite. It's more exhausting than the ones done by guys who use Chronivac. But I've decided to focus on my own transformation. And that's why I'm starting my Tumblr retreat today. There are a number of asks I'm already working on answering. I'll answer them later. Maybe there will be a few more exciting questions too. But only until tonight. Then Chronivac support will be closed. And I will delete the mass of unanswered asks.

I'll miss a lot of things when I retire here. But I have stopped smoking. And I managed to lose 20 kilograms a few years ago and get into the best shape of my life. Both were good for me. And I hope that the retreat from the virtual to the real transformation will be too.

#not a story #personal

[octuscle]

My family and i went to the airport to take our trip to Italy, but somehow my parents and sister seats were placed in tourist class while i got bussiness wich is weird because im just a 19 years old chubby guy that doesnt have a job. Now that im on my seat my belt is apparently stuck and i cant get up, and my skin somehow is dark than before, whats happening?

The stewardess asks you something. You don't understand a word. She repeats in English whether you have already taken a look at the menu and decided on a main course. With a heavy English accent, you say "Prendo il pesce per favore".

Flying in Business Class is great. You enjoy the service. And the food. And the choice of movies. First Dune and Kung Fu Panda. But then it gets boring. And you discover a few old Adriano Celentano classics. You don't even realize that you're watching them in the original… Without subtitles…

When you land in Rome, well-rested but a little rumpled, you think about what you've forgotten. There was something else… But you don't know what. Gianni hands you your coat and tells you that you've already been registered in the Arrival Lounge. You smile at him and ask if he's staying in Rome today. Gianni is one of your favorite flight attendants. In heaven. And in bed. Gianni apologizes. He's going back to New York today. "Peccato," you reply. "Ma si faccia sentire se mai avesse bisogno di un letto a Roma!" You grab your Fendi weekender. Your luggage will be delivered directly to the lounge. As usual.

"Signore, la sua camicia e la sua giacca sono appese stirate vicino alla porta". You love the service here on the ground. Amazingly efficient. Not like so much else here in Italy. Especially in Rome. But you're from Naples. You're used to something completely different. You open the door. Freshly showered and freshly coiffed. The lady from the ground staff is still at the door. You're not sure if she wanted a tip. Or a look at your six-pack. She gets both. You smile and thank her. And then you start your day.

È bello essere in viaggio. Ma l'unico posto al mondo dove si può vivere stabilmente è e rimane l'Italia!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age progression #ai art #race change

[octuscle]

Hey, could you help me ? I've had the weirdest thing happen to me, and I don't know who to turn to...

See, yesterday, after going to bed a bit early since I was tired, I didn't wake up in my bed... but rather on a rather fancy couch in, you know, one of those modern cubic manors the other side of town... Worse still, there was visible traces of alcohol, and even other people sleeping in the living room I was in, all of them young popular-looking guys and girls... It looked like the aftermath of a party, yet I don't drink alcohol, I'm not sociable at all, I'm not fashionable and I hate parties !

Although I was able to leave without being noticed, I'm still unsure of how in hell I ended up over there. So, could you help me understand what happened ?

The next morning is even stranger. You're lying naked on silken sheets in a huge bed. Your body nestled close to a young man with the body of a Roman god. Your hard-on is downright painful! Until you realize that this is not a dream. You slide off the bed, gather up your clothes and tiptoe out of the room and out of the house. Shit, traces of a party everywhere… This is what you imagine a modern version of the great Gatsby to look like. You get dressed on the lawn in front of the house. The expensive Hanro underwear isn't really yours. And although you can unlock it with your face, the brand new iPhone isn't really yours either. Something strange, something very strange is going on here!

During the day, you receive a whole series of messages from people you don't know, but whose contact details all seem to be saved in your address book. I wonder if you're meeting for an aperitif before the party today. What you are going to wear. Whether they should give you a lift or whether you should take a cab. You're sitting at your desk, processing claims and wondering what's going on. Should you answer? Should you ignore things? You decide to ignore it. At some point you call it a day. On the way home, you grab something from the Vietnamese restaurant. And eat it in front of the TV.

This time you wake up on a lounger by an impressive pool. At least you're not naked this time. You're wearing a golden thong. And you have no idea where your clothes are. Only your cell phone is lying on the floor next to you. So what? There are plenty of clothes lying around. From different people. None of it is yours or even your style. But you can't walk around naked. So you're waiting for a cab in a satin suit and sandals and you feel incredibly ridiculous. Until you find your wallet in the inside pocket of your jacket. Well, at least a wallet with your ID and driver's license. It's from someone who looks different from you, but who has your name on it. What the hell is going on here?

After a shower, you stand in front of the mirror in your apartment. Your skin looks darker somehow. You somehow look fitter. You just look different. Your phone reports that people are liking and commenting on your latest Instagram posts. You don't even have an Instagram account. You're late for work. You have to turn your phone off because it won't stop vibrating with incoming messages. Your head keeps vibrating. You get a migraine. You call in sick. You have to go to bed.

Damn, that was the best party in a long time! Shit, you've blacked out, you've overdone it again. Thank God it's only a few meters to your house. You can only hope that you don't have any appointments tomorrow morning that you've overlooked. And if you do, your manager will have to take care of that. You need to throw up now and then get some sleep. And tomorrow the party will be at your house. You have a reputation to lose as a host and as a party animal. Give it your all!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #tank top #race change #ai image

[octuscle]

I know you 'produce' a lot of athletes in soccer, football and so on but I'd like to become an ice hockey star - maybe I can replace an actual player and you find another solution for him? I'm open for your suggestions but nice abs are a must 😉

Monday morning. 08:30. Start of duty at the call center. The phones are ringing off the hook. It's going to be another great week, you can feel it. There's still slush on the streets of Berlin outside. Somehow spring is not coming at all this year. After the third caller who berates you for things you can't do anything about, you're already fed up. You greet the fourth caller with a friendly "Grützi". Shit, where does your Swiss accent come from… You're actually from northern Germany… Nonsense! Bern is not in northern Germany. You are proudly Swiss. The other colleagues here have always made fun of your accent…

Thank God you survived this morning. During your lunch break, you go for a run through the park. Your body needs exercise, otherwise you'll get cranky. This morning it was still bloody cold outside in Nashville. But the temperature is rising rapidly. In the early afternoon, it should finally be well over 20 degrees Celsius again. Eh, you mean 68 degrees Fahrenheit, of course. You just can't get used to the strange units of measurement here in the USA. But you'll learn that too.

The afternoon shift at the gym is always relaxed. There are hardly any people working out. Plenty of free space to do a bit of training yourself. You love to confuse new customers. With your roots in the Balkans, most people here think you're an Arab. And when you speak English with your Swiss accent, nobody knows what to believe. After 4 p.m. you have more to do. That's when some of the ice hockey team come to train. They're professionals, they're fun to talk to. Better than overweight pensioners who want to get in shape. Hehehe, but they usually tip better…

The Predators have a public practice tonight. You saw they're looking for a new fitness trainer. Ice hockey was already your passion back home in Switzerland. Now to be under contract with one of the best clubs in the world... That would be a hot deal! And you know a few of the guys quite well by now, maybe someone will put in a good word for you. A few of the less experienced fans ask you if you're an injured professional. Because you're not on the ice. Yes, you really don't look like the typical fan in your jersey….

The alarm clock rings at 05:30. You're awake two seconds earlier. Even though your family's roots are in the Balkans, you were born and raised in Bern. You are a Swiss precision instrument. Always on time. And your shots almost always hit the mark. Training on the ice starts at 09:00. Before that, you want to do your eight-mile lap and spend an hour on the weights. Last season you weren't fit enough, you missed a lot of time due to injury. That shouldn't happen to you again this season. Hard and controlled training. That's the only way to stay at the top!

Dude, you're a machine! Captain of the team. The first Swiss player to be awarded the James Norris Memorial Trophy as the NHL's best defenseman. You're one of the players with the highest advertising revenue. Some attribute it to your eight-pack. Others attribute it to your discipline and reliability. But you still have a little quirk. You call your helmet Roman. You haven't told anyone why…

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #ice hockey #ai image