#male tf

[poptheweasel]

Turkish Delight

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Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.

He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.

And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.

Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.

That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.

His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.

Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.

“Hey, you.”

Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.

Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.

“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.

“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?

“Like what you see?”

Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.

The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.

After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.

Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.

Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.

The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.

Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.

Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.

After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.

Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.

Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.

This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.

Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.

Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.

The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.

The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.

Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.

The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…

“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!

“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”

“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.

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Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!

#male transformation #male tf #race change #racial change #turkish tf #hair growth #hairy tf #reality change #musk tf #my writing

[occamstfs]

Higher Education

Bit of a belated 4/20 TF! Reliving the heady days of his weed-filled youth may not help a professor's tenure track. Enjoy! -Occam

It had been quite a while since Richard had cut himself some slack. He was on track to be tenured and the obligations and rigor involved gave him little time to himself. His department has really become more of a family to him than his estranged once loved ones. He spends more waking hours in this office than any room of his spacious home. Today he’s burning the midnight oil yet again as he mars a doctoral candidate’s thesis draft in red ink.

Seeing just how much of a scarlet mess he has left for this poor student he pauses to make himself a cup of tea. He certainly doesn’t want to be seen as too critical or crotchety, though he feels assured that his students know this. Upon returning to his desk he finds a small wrapped gift box resting squarely on the marked up essay. He knows precisely who it is from and chuckles as he looks at the kitschy weed-themed wrapping paper. 

Picking it up he hears something small and light shake around in the box. The tag reads: “Happy 4-20 Old Man, why not live a little- your favorite Candidate, Mac.” Slowly unwrapping it Richard smiles wistfully as he recalls way way back to when he was in undergrad. Walking down smoke filled dorm hallways bleary-eyed as he contributes to it. Just smoking grass on the main lawn welcoming anyone to open their minds at these little sessions. An alarm goes off on his computer shaking him from his reverie as he sets the gift down to respond to the pile of emails that have accrued today.

Richard begins his cookie-cutter responses to colleagues, scratching backs and brown nosing as need be to advance his own career. Not too long into this dull work however does he begin to smell that unmistakable skunky scent coming from Mac’s half opened gift. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, shocked that his subordinate would fully shepherd drugs into his office before pausing to remember that weed is legal here, in this state at least. He tosses the box in the bag making sure the scent can’t escape as he returns his attention to the ocean of busywork.

He cannot find purchase however as he finds himself impossibly distracted, the tea he made tastes bitter in his mouth and every so often he smells a whiff of the joint hiding in his bag. Richard rushes through a couple of responses before checking the clock and realizing Mac was right, partly that is. He can afford to head out a little early. It is a holiday of his youth after all, he thinks to himself smiling mischievously as he grabs his coat and heads to his home. 

Tenured he may not be but he makes enough to live incredibly close to campus. It’s about five so theoretically the work day is over anyway, but he lives close enough that should there be need he could easily return. He would be happy to even, he puts his hand in the bag and fingers the ripped paper of the gift box. Patting it as if to say maybe another time, though resolving to chew out Mac for such an inappropriate gift. 

Tossing his bag on a chair and entering his quiet home he pours himself a drink and heads to watch the daily news. As soon as it touches his lips though he spits it out all over himself. It was beyond revolting, for the life in him he can’t figure out why though? It’s what he always has as a treat isn’t it? He wipes up his mess and grills himself as to what on Earth caused him to do that. Going down the list of possibilities he finds himself distracted as wafting from his open bag is the impossibly alluring scent of Mac’s joint. 

For a time he just sits and stares at his bag, mulling over any real consequences there could be to just letting himself smoke just this once. He’s sure his colleague Dr. Bennet can barely go a school week without smoking away at least a day. Flicking the metaphorical angel off his shoulder he decides to go for it. It’s just one joint, what could possibly go awry.

The doctor takes one massive hit and remembers that whatever the kids are smoking today is leagues more intense than the kush he had back when. He coughs heartily and stumbles into his kitchen to get some water, smiling as he remembers the old adage that coughing actually gets you higher. He pours a cup for himself, spilling a tad over the counter and neglecting to clean it up.

Richard decides to throw on a record before returning to his joint once more. God he remembers loving nothing more than just sitting and watching his wax spin on his player as smoke danced in the air. He reclines back and immediately feels more at home. He’s lived here for almost a decade now and never has he felt more comfortable than this moment. He laughs at himself wondering why he’s waited so long to smoke again. Maybe he should text Mac and thank him?

At this his phone rings and he sobers up almost immediately, his first couple hits washed away as he sees a text from his department head. He holds the joint with his lips as he uses both hands to unlock his phone, smoke sailing wistfully past his eyes as he starts to read it. Sitting there looking at the bright screen of his phone alongside the ever increasing smoke though his eyes quickly dry and he sets it down. How important could it be anyway? The workday is over; he is under no obligation to respond, he reasons. Surely it’s nothing. He sets his phone down and goes to lie back on the couch and listen to his old music, taking another massive hit.

He struggles to kick his shoes off as they suddenly grow uncomfortable on his feet, almost as if they were a couple sizes too small, that can’t be right though as if his feet were growing in his old age. He laughs at the idea, picturing clown feet at the bottom of his thin legs, not seeing in reality that his feet are starting to strain his socks. Nor could he possibly notice as their odor begins to mingle with the overpowering smell of weed filling his den.

His phone vibrates again and he furrows his brow before his eyes glaze over as intended. His clothes all over begin to feel a little uncomfortable on his body. He grimaces wondering what exactly the move is before duh, this is his house! He hits himself on his head as he decides to just strip, he was always half naked smoking outdoors back then he may as well do so in his own house. Taking off his clothes he doesn’t notice as there is a skip in the record as it changes, the grooves warp, harden, and shrink as his pristine record collection diminishes into a massive, slightly disheveled CD collection. Richard certainly doesn't notice as he scratches at his chest, the only thought in his head as he rips his joint once more is “Man, I love this song.”

He giggles once more as he hears his stomach rumble and he recalls what a persistent issue the munchies have always been for him. In fact it was one of the reasons he quit back in his grad school, he simply couldn’t afford all the weed along with the food budget that satisfying his cravings demanded. Shouldn’t be a problem now though, he thinks, he is an, uh? Pausing as the haziness sets in his eyes burning pink as the thoughts in his head slow. He’s a professor right? Though his mind slows he continues his steady crawl to raid whatever snacks lie in his cabinet.

There he, surprisingly, finds a stoner’s paradise. The shelves are lined with chips and cheap pastries beyond imagination. He once more holds the joint in his mouth as he reaches deep to double fist some bags of chips, tacitly continuing to smoke as his stomach rumbles in jubilation. In his gluttony he drops bags to the floor and laughs letting the joint fall to the floor wondering if the five second rule applies to weed, guffawing some more. He hears his own voice in his head telling him to keep it down but as if he’s going to listen to that square.

He turns up his CD player’s stereo in protest as his inner monologue grows more agitated. Dude you’ve gotta turn it down, you share a wall with the neighbors. He stuffs his hand in the potato chips and starts devouring them as he reflects on this. Shares a wall? But that would be he lives in a duplex, or wait? He looks around his place and sees it smaller than he remembers it, right? Continuing to scarf chips getting grease all over his hands and face as, so far beyond his notice, it begins to produce more oil itself than it has in decades. 

Continuing to snack he hears his phone ring as his boss is fully calling him now. Stumbling up and over to his phone Richard doesn’t notice as his thighs begin to fill his underwear. He had lost a lot of weight from his long years of working and now that he is finally indulging once more it seems a healthy weight is returning. Rubbing together as he makes his way to the couch, the friction draws his attention to just how pleasurable physicality is when he’s high. Gosh he needed this. 

He grows distracted as he arrives at the couch, his phone stops ringing before starting up again as his Department head calls once more. Seeing her contact picture appear he says aloud, “whatever bitch” laughing like an ass as he hangs up on her and sets his phone to do-not-disturb. Once more there is a buzz in the air as the music set up changes once more. Phone now in hand he starts to play music the only way he has ever known, wrinkles and the few gray hairs that remained totally disappearing from his face as he presses skip on his phone and is awash in adoration as his all time favorite album starts playing. 

He sits there and just takes in the music as he rubs his slightly distended stomach. Grimacing as he thinks he should start hitting the gym. He hears Mac all the time talking about how much he loves hitting the gym high. His heart suddenly flutters as he thinks about Mac and grows giggly again. He feels a pang in his head that such behavior is inappropriate. He is a prof- He’s a? His mind strains to recall what exactly he is. His eyes search the room looking for any hints before landing on the TV seeing the Daily News that has been playing through it all suddenly turn to static before coalescing into the video game Mac was always talking his ear off about in office hours. In the once professors mind though the only thought present is, Fuck! I love this game!

Energy surges through his body as he searches for a playstation remote. His pulse races as his excitement grows and he feels a desperate urge to stretch. He feels as his tendons extend. Rubbing his arms across his torso he feels his increased weight begin to coalesce into firm yet weighty muscle. His hands twitch and scratch against his increasing strength as he controls on the couch, moaning and laughing at just how lascivious this pleasure is, his voice vibrating deeper as the pitch of the song and video game blast louder in his head. Haha wait a second, he thinks, I’m so fuckin’ sore I must already be going to the gym faded with Mac right?

He blushes and stretches some more, feeling his back arch and his tight torso stretches to its limit before surging beyond it. His arms raised behind his head they grasp at air and feel the sought after remote and a hat which he instinctively throws on. Ah this hat is Mac’s isn’t it! He is briefly confused once more as he tries to remember what exactly his relationship is with Mac. It’s? He’s, are they roommates? Rich looks around the room, eyes shifting to where there once was a record collection, no a CD stand? Why would he need either of those though haha, as if Mac’s apartment has space for that!

Mac’s apartment. The thought repeats many times over in his mind and his eye twitches as he feels a pain that the high cannot make pleasurable. Grimacing, he decides to try and focus on the game. Black ink slowly staining his body as he clicks buttons. After little time at all though he realizes, fuck, it’s been so long since he’d hit that joint hasn’t it?

Pausing his game he uses his bleary eyes to scan his apartment floor for the roach. He didn’t drop it in the chip bag did he? He checks far too quickly to possibly see it before giving up. There’s gotta be an easier way to smoke some more right? Out of the corner of his eye he sees the rocks glass he was using as a stupid smile inches across his face. Through the haze in the room the only thing Rich can see when looking at such a cylinder is a bong. Rich reaches for it, the glass growing taller and embellishing as he does. In a fluid motion he snatches it and starts to stumble around and look for a lighter. 

Lucky for him in Mac’s apartment they seem to be scattered around as if they were decoration. Thinking of Mac his mind is a sea of conflict again and there is a sudden urge, a craving, a need to smoke right now. He lights the bowl and before he even inhales from the beyond filthy bong he is at ease once more. Smoke rocketing into his lungs he holds back a coughing fit before a giggle breaks the line and he loses control. 

Between each cough he feels himself lose something. He sees Mac and laughs at the idea that he could ever be in charge. Mac’s older than him, right? He sees an unfamiliar house that he could never afford as it turns to static and shrinks into a small one bedroom apartment that doesn’t even have his name on the lease. He sees a degree he sees multiple degrees and not only can he not imagine himself having the willpower to get them, he laughs at the idea that he would even want to sit through a single college course. Smoke fills the air as if he were hotboxing the apartment and he rubs his body as hair pushes its way out of his skin. He needs to shave, Mac like him smooth. 

Feeling his body once more, flexing his bare body against the couch and rubbing his hands across his itchy stomach smiling without a care in the world or a thought in his head he hears a key turn in the front door. His eyes stay closed as his smile grows wider and the only man, the only thing, that matters to him in the world approaches. Mac stands over him, dressed in a suit as he clearly came from the campus and says, “Miss me, Dick?”

Dick’s eyes burst open more bloodshot than could possibly be healthy and he stares wordlessly, longingly, into the eyes of the man domineering over him. He’s a little confused at what the smirk on his face could mean, but Dick is confused most of the time, so he’ll just wait for Mac to explain! 

He doesn’t. Mac leans in close to Dick’s ear and just whispers, “Happy 4-20 Doc. Thanks for giving in.” Then puts his mouth over Dick’s before his mind could even recognize the words being said. He loses control instantly without a hand touches his cock as it expands heartily, no underwear to hold it or his cum back as he forevermore loses control over his mind, of his life. Not that he minds, how bad could life be with someone as nice and great as Mac watching over him! The two continue to make out on Mac’s couch, not caring for the cleanliness of the suit as the bong is knocked onto the table. From now on there is little at all that Dick would care about at all besides his master, his Mac.

#male tf #mental change #stoner tf #muscle tf #reality change #straight to gay

[bigwishes]

Quick Bet

Jake stood there is disbelief as he heard the terms of what he had just agreed to.

Just seconds ago he was a scrawny guy who barely filled out his shirt and now it hugged his chest like it was a size too small. He had made a friend at the gym recently and invited him over for a bros games night. He's new friend said they should make it interesting and place bets on who'd win. Jake agreed even after his buddy said 900 pounds. He didn't know how the money conversion would effect how much money that really was but Jake believed in his gaming skills and so he agreed. It was only after his friend kicked his ass 20 - 0 that he learnt what he really bet on. His new friend revealed that the loser didn't owe money but rather 900 pounds of pure muscle. Jake laughed at first before his suddenly filled out his clothes to the point they were tight and he looked like a natural bodybuilder. Pretty soon Jake heard the sound of tearing as his pants began to give way to his slowly expanding muscle. His new friend just laughed as he watched Jake slowly transforming into a muscled up freakshow...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

[bigification]

Step Daddy

"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.

"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"

"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.

I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.

I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.

"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.

"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.

"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.

"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.

"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.

That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.

Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.

Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.

"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.

A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.

"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.

I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.

"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.

I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.

"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

[fredwkong]

Recently I’ve been seeing loads of pics of gym guys in tight, probably too small lycra gear, it’s making me jealous of their muscles & confidence, I wish I could be like them and wear tight lycra without a care who sees or stares

You’re browsing wistfully through an online sports gear store when a popup window opens, displaying a cartoonish image of a buff genie in head-to-toe lycra. “Special first time offer loading…” the popup declares, and the genie winks at you as the webpage resets.

Suddenly, something has changed. You start running your hands over the smooth fabric hugging your body and look down to see yourself clad in a tight spandex leotard covered in brand names. Even your body underneath the clothes looks different, bulked up and tan, veins almost visible right through the lycra.

You jump up, checking that the window is shuttered so no one will see you, and scramble to your closet, but inside is more of the same. Every scrap of your clothing has been replaced with lycra. The cotton polo shirts have become form-fitting compression tees. All your slacks are now muscle-hugging yoga tights. And your underwear is all sheer, tight-fitting, and skimpy as hell.

As you blush down to your lycra-clad chest, you hear a cough from your computer speakers, and turn to see the cartoon genie glaring at you from the screen. “Okay, wrong reaction,” he scolds you, his voice tinny and distorted. “Maybe this will fix you.”

Faster than you can react, another loading bar fills and the page resets.

It’s like a fog settles over your head. This is hot, you think, feeling up massive tan muscles through your even tighter lycra one-piece. You love the mesh panels that let everyone see how much of a lycra slut you are. Nothing else is important except showing off your spandex-clad superhero muscles and getting off in your favourite gear.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #dumber tf #spandex tf #wish granted

[desiretransformations]

Jake

Jake was a skinny nerd, overlooked by everyone. One night, he wished to be seen. I gave him exactly what he wanted. But with every gift, comes a price. I only took a couple IQ points. 86 is a perfectly healthy IQ score! And hey, at least he’s not overlooked anymore.

Got a wish? Come to Desire Inc., where dreams become reality.

#desire inc #jock #jock bro #jock tf #jockification #jock transformation #male tf #male transformation #muscle tf #reality change #nerd to jock #muscle transformation #himbo #himbofication #dumbing down #dumber tf #dumber #iq loss #dumb jock

[purgatorytf]

Snug

Everything had been perfect in Stefan's life. He was handsome and his preppy clean-cut look and charming personality had gotten him a beautiful girlfriend. Thanks to his hard work he had also gotten into one of the country's best universities. Nothing could stop him from getting his dream job and marrying his girlfriend. He was really living his perfect life.

Well, that's what he thought right before entering his dorm and smelled the rank atmosphere inside. Sigh. There was just one little thing that spoiled his life on campus : he shared his dorm with Bryce.

Bryce was your typical jock douchebag. Popular, obnoxious, party-goer and obsessed with working out. Apparently he hadn't registered that working out constantly also meant that he needed to wash his dirty gym gear and not leave them all over the dorm. Stefan's clean and neat persona clashed with Bryce's unhygienic and messy one. Living with him was like a nightmare.

Stefan stepped in the musty dorm and approached his bed where he immediately noticed a piece of clothing that wasn't his. He already felt the frustration rising inside of him. Bryce had, for some reason, left one of his dirty jockstraps laying there on his bed.

Stefan saw red. The disgusting jockstrap would have originally been white, except the fabric of the pouch was stained yellow and distended. Stefan tried as hard as he could to not picture how Bryce's filthy cock and bodily fluids could have done that to a piece of clothing. "Does he think i enjoy his nauseating stench ?!"

Stefan was outraged. He wished he didn't have to take care of Bryce's dirty laundry and that he'd do it himself. He picked up the rank piece of fabric to try and dispose of it. To his horror the jockstrap was stiff in his hand, supposedly hardened by Bryce's ... cum. Stefan then swore he could hear, or feel, a voice inside his head.

"hmmm... musk..."

Shocked, he flung it across the room. He started panting heavily. What was that voice ? That feeling ? He looked at the hand that had touched the jockstrap's stiffened waistband and felt a sort of tingliness at the tip of his fingers. The tingly feeling started spreading across his hand and then up his arm. It felt like cotton all over his body. As it took over him, Stefan tried running for the door but he suddenly felt his entire body shrink and hollow out. Stefan wanted to cry for help but all he could do was feel his entire body twisting and reshaping into a pair of white Adidas socks as he fell to the floor. He could still feel, hear and smell but he couldn't move.

That's when he heard the turning of the doorknob. Bryce entered the room and walked where Stefan was laying. He had just come back from his afternoon run.

Stefan felt Bryce kneel next to him and, for a second, thought that he might be able to help him out ! "Bryce ! Help me !"

With a dopey grin, Bryce took the socks in his hand and looked at them. Stefan thought he was saved !

"Sick dude ! I didn't think i had any other clean pair of socks !"

Stefan tried to scream at him that this was him ! That he wasn't just a pair of socks ! But Bryce didn't hear anything. Stefan really was just a pair of socks, and socks aren't meant to speak, they're meant to be worn. The horror of the situation dawned on Stefan as he heard Bryce kick off his trainers and took off his current pair of socks, dirty and worn out. "I've been wearing these nonstop for months, it's time for a change huhu !"

"No ! I'm not just some piece of clothing for Bryce to ruin !" Stefan screamed out. He tried resisting in vain as Bryce pulled the pristine socks over his sweaty feet. Stefan's new body conformed to the shape of Bryce's feet and lower calves. His senses were immediately assaulted by the rancid musk.

"They're so snug bro. I'm going to wear them until they're completely ruined huhuhu"

Stefan's perfect reality, his life, his dreams, his future... everything unraveled as his new disgusting soaking reality set in. He felt so disgusted and humiliated to be a gymrat's rank socks. Bryce put on his trainers. Stefan was immediately soaked in sweat. Bryce stood and left the dorm, heading for his evening workout.

1 year later

Bryce loved his new socks and the way they seemed to fit his feet perfectly. The pristine white socks hadn't stayed that way for long. Bryce wore the socks everyday nonstop for months, to class, to the gym, even when he fucked his bros. The socks had gradually started to fray and darken.

At first, Stefan tried to resist his new life. He was determined to not let this break him. However the months went on. Trapped inside Bryce's hot sweaty shoes, Stefan was constantly drenched in sweat and musk and over time, he could feel it not only affect the fabric he was made of but also the fabric of his mind. Little by little, Stefan got more and more filthy and ruined and so his mind corrupted.

What started as a nightmare gradually became more pleasant. Stefan began enjoying the smell of Bryce's feet. Stefan's entire psychology reshaped itself around Bryce's sweaty feet. He realized he was nothing but a sweaty pair of socks who belongs to a big, muscular jock named Bryce. Stefan eventually accepted his place as Master Bryce's property, taking comfort and pride in serving the big jock and worshiping his sweaty scent and dirty feet.

His former self long gone, Stefan was broken and twisted into something better. He who used to love his girlfriend so dearly, now only had adoration for his Master's rankness. He finally felt at home, perfectly wrapped around his Master's feet.

Bryce had no plan to stop wearing his socks. He wanted to wear them out until they couldn't be worn anymore, but that would surely take several more years.

Bryce had no idea that the preppy, clean-cut guy he used to dorm with became nothing but a perverted, dirty pair of athletic socks who now existed only to pleasure him.

#inanimate tf #sock tf #permanent tf #musk #corruption #inanimate transformation #sock transformation #permanent transformation #jock #male tf #male transformation #reality change #mental change

[tidetfs]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

#stoner tf #dumber #male tf #himbo tf #muscle tf

[juanbodyswapstfs]

Dm if interested in body swap roleplay!

#bodyswap #himbotransformation #hunktransformation #male body swap #muscle tf #stolen body #male skinsuit #male tf #alpha man #alpha muscle

[onelittlespiral]

Warning: Bear Attacks

As we move into the holiday season, we would like to issue our annual warning about bear attacks. With colder weather setting in, an increased number of bears will be driven indoors as they search for food, warmth, and mates. And bears are far more dangerous in confined spaces.

Take this specimen here for instance. At first glance, he seems like a kind, friendly, fuzzy man who would keep you warm through a cold winter night. Maybe not the most happening upstairs, but he means well. Would you believe that just this summer he looked more like this?

Young and cute, but certainly not the hairy beast we have seen him turn into this season. If you are going out this winter, be aware, and be alert for the warning signs and know what to do if a bear sets its sights on you. First, how do you identify a bear? There are a few common varieties, each with their own quirks:

You have the very standard Grizzly bear, warm and cuddly. Pronounced dad bod. Notice the expression, the signature bear smirk. This will be one of the earliest signs that a bear is on the hunt.

Of course you also have the muscle bears. Their signature muscles will be coated in a thick layer of fur, accentuating their size. Hair will peak out from beneath heavy biceps, and their tank tops give no doubt to the forest underneath. They will often infiltrate and train you up before attacking. They like their marks ready, bro.

Even the smaller, younger cubs present a danger this time of year. They may seem helpless, but let us assure you they are far more knowledgeable than they seem. They can cause some of the most drastic changes in age, hair, and temperament. Countless men soon find themselves caring for their cubs, foraging for them, and assuming responsibility as they age into papa bears for their sweet little cubs.

Now bears will all hunt in their own ways, but there are patterns to their behavior. First, bears tend to congregate together. If you notice one, be on alert for others. Second, beware of beer and whiskey drinks offered to you. These are the trademark drinks of several bear species. Third, monitor the air in a room. That many big, burly men will tend to warm a place up and start to sweat, and bear musk is among their most potent tools to pacify targets. And in greater numbers these effects can be amplified. Their fur traps the musk close to their skin, so the closer they get the more enraptured you will become. If you are subjected to a direct hit from, say, a bear’s pit, it may already to be too late.

In case you find yourself taken back to a bear’s den, all is not lost yet, but far more drastic measures may need to be taken. Continued exposure to them will accelerate any changes, so you must be quick and decisive. First, avoid any food they may offer you, no matter how starved you may suddenly feel yourself becoming. Feeding the insatiable new hunger will only awaken the bear that is growing inside of you. Second, avoid direct contact with their fur. They may appear warm and inviting, and their cuddles are indeed among the coziest in the world. But skin-to-fur contact encourages hair growth as your body grows a pelt of its own. Third, avoid getting under the covers with them. Their body heat will quickly begin to melt your wits and your body will begin sweating, creating a musk of its own to compliment. Take this young man for example:

He barely made it out from a cuddle session with a bear, but some drastic changes have already occurred. His 6 pack abs have begun their journey to a muscle gut. He can hardly go a day without shaving or a full beard will quickly cover his face. And the musk he now produces keeps him far hornier than he ever was before. The effect seems to be limited to just himself, for now. Can you believe he is only 21? Hasn’t been carded in months. He had to drop from his football team, no longer in the right shape for it. He now is much more suited to rugby. And he is one of the lucky ones. This one was not so lucky:

These two photos were taken mere days apart. He was, sadly, subjected to the final transformation: becoming a bear himself. After being taken to a den, accepting some greasy snacks, and cuddled into submission, this poor man was selected to be a bear’s mate. He was laid on his back, had his clothes removed, and the bear started massaging his legs and thighs. He ran his thick fingers over his hole and slowly worked his way inside to stretch him out for what was to come. It wasn’t long before his bear dick was pressed against him, and he felt the thick, veiny cock begin to slowly pump into his cavity. Once bears get started, it is nearly impossible to get them to stop. His thighs slapped against his target’s ass as his wild bush pressed against his hole. When a bear decides to breed, it is hot, steamy, and rough. Moans tend to erupt from victims as their body betrays them, fur pushing out from every follicle, minds consumed by thoughts of sex, food, and men. Their dicks tend to stretch to match that of their mate’s, growing thick as a beer can, and so sensitive. Any memories that conflict with the bear they are becoming are churned by a new, heavy sack. Testicles will swell to the size of golf balls under the effort. Their old lives leak out of their cocks as they are edged, molding beneath their captor until the bear is happy with their target. And then, the bear will come, pumping load after load deep into their new mate. The target’s belly bloats to contain it all, creating the signature bear gut that juts out over their new bodies. The effort will push any last memories out as their cock erupts. Both bears will quickly be exhausted, falling asleep in a sticky, smelly, sweaty heap. And then it’s over. We have yet to discover a way to revert any victims. Not that they would want to. They become enraptured with their new bodies, and begin to hunt on their own for new mates. It is said a bear has an insatiable appetite, and will change as many men as they can get their hands on in a winter season until they find the perfect mate for hibernation.

It is advised that men stay aware, stay alert, and stay away. Report any bear sightings immediately. And stay tuned for any further information.

#musk #transformation #male transformation #bear #warning #tf #male tf #reality change

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #muscle tf #jockification #reality change #musk tf

[bigwishes]

Muscle BULL

(at time of writing muscle bull won the vote so I hope you enjoy)

Mikey took one last picture in front of the gym mirror, showing off every bulging muscle of his tight and toned frame. He typed his wish into the ask box "I wish for a change (but I wanna keep my muscle)" and looked into the mirror waiting for his changes to begin.

As soon as he pressed send Mikey felt his body begin to pulse and swell. He heard the sound of his skin stretching as his muscles swelled up underneath. Mikey grabbed his pec feeling it bulge and swell bigger, the pulses of growth matching his heart beat.

"ah, fuck yeaahhhh" Mikey moaned flexing in the mirror.

The growth began to slow down, Mikey put on some cloths feeling them tight over his massive body, unable to stop flexing to himself and laughing at how muscle bigger he had grown. He left the locker room to test his new massive body in the gym.

After an hour in the gym Mikey realised he had lifted a barbell maybe once. He was too busy staring at his massive frame in the gym mirror. Other guys around him looked puny, he looked almost over grown but he loved the size.

Mikey took a deep breath flexing again but feeling something strange in his pelvis. A butterfly like sensation stirring in his groin, Mikey looked down and moaned watching as the fabric around his dick expanded and stretched out. His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip watching it expand and grow bigger. Mikey got up and left the gym, in such a rush he forgot his bag, he got in his car feeling another surge of growth. Driving home as fast as he legally could Mikey anxiously rubbed his groin feeling a surge of pleasure as he touched it. He wanted to lift up his waist band but was even more desperate to enjoy himself as soon as he saw what was under it.

Mikey pulled up in his driveway getting out of his car, feeling what felt like his balls now so big they rubbed against his thighs. Suddenly another pulse of growth washed over his groin.

"AWWWW FUCCKKKKKKK" Mikey moaned out falling back to lean on the side of his car.

Mikey tried to run to his door but it was more of a waddle feeling the squeeze in-between his legs, Mikey shut his door and leant against it, staring up at the ceiling he moaned feeling one last massive surge. **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP**

Mikey heard his gym shorts tear apart and felt his underwear snap. Mikey let out a excited laugh looking down at his new package but it wasn't his dick that he saw. Mikey's face quickly soured as he saw a massive pink udder sagging in place of where his dick would be.

"w..w...w-WHAT THE FUCK" Mikey started to panic, grabbing onto one of his new four dick.

Another sudden pulse hit him and Mikey watched as his new sagging udder swelled up even more he felt it become tight, and then painfully tight, completely full.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK"

Mikey slid down against his door until he was sitting on the floor. He placed both his hands around the massive round udder. All four of his dicks began to leak pre.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

Mikey started jerking one of his dicks, his head fell back slamming against the door as he felt the best pleasure he's felt in his entire life. It was barely 30 second before he came and his dick squirted cum over his chest and wall. Mikey couldn't help but move onto the next one, feeling the intense pleasure, and again and then again. By the time he finished one another was rock solid. Mikey stood up wiping the cum off his massive body, moaning at his full cock udder than still felt like it was gonna burst.

Mikey walked to his bedroom and saw his huge body in the mirror, he flexed and posed his new huge muscles, he was the biggest man he's ever seen. His body took up most of his mirror and his giant hand struggled to hold his phone. His eyes wondered down his enormous frame.

Mikey let out a deep sigh dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at the massive cock udder that was now the size of a beach ball. He wrapped both his hands around his, jiggling it up and down hearing sloshing from inside. The four dicks instantly became hard from the slightest touch. Mikey have it a slight squeeze watching as all four dicks squirted cum onto his mirror.

"Oh god, I look like a fucking cow..."

---

hope you ladz can enjoy this one, its been a while and I'm trying to get back into the swing of it all.

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

[misctf]

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

#male tf #straight to gay #male transformation #mental change #twink tf #dumber tf

[frostedbloons]

Virus

Paul began to feel strange as soon as he locked eyes with some guy dancing his pecs in the gym mirror. Rolling his eyes, he was always annoyed by all those sorts of guys, especially because he found them so… distracting. Paul was kind of a short femboy-ish guy, and it had always irked him that his exact type was the most obnoxious sort of guy… This guy was especially entrancing though - it was a solid five seconds before Paul shook out of it and got into the locker room to change.

Strangely though, it felt more difficult than usual to get his usual tight fitting gym attire off. And damn, today was a cardio day, but he somehow must've got quite the pump in because his quads and chest were looking huge… Instinctively, Paul strode up to a nearby mirror and gave a quick flex - Man, he was looking built!

He started to walk back to the car, but was drawn over to a different mirror after a few steps... this 6'3 body felt huge. Feeling his mind suddenly slow down, he began to loose interest in this big body. He felt his mind drifting to forms more small… more feminine… Idly, he began pumping his pecs in the mirror.

"Huhehu, this feels good at least. Maybe I can pick up Kenzie on the way home. She's usually down…"

#jockification #jock tf #nerd to jock #gay to straight #male tf #jock bulge #dumber #male transformation #jock transformation

[fredwkong]

Hey there! I love what you do to/for your readers, and wanted to throw an ask out there. I’ve always had a rubber fetish, but never been able to afford any gear of my own. I just finally bought my first latex suit, but now I find I don’t have the balls to wear it out in public, or even to gear night at the local gay bar. I’m just too inhibited and self conscious. So here we go, I’m like kinky putty in your skilled hands. I trust that I’ll thoroughly enjoy whatever you come up with, whether I want to or not. 😉

Come on, you’ve just gotta try it out. Pretend that they’re all in latex, too. Maybe that will help.

Your imagination is a powerful thing, after all. Just put on your gear and look at yourself in the mirror. Imagine yourself filling it out better. Think about how it would feel to have the rubber stretch against your growing muscles, squeaking as you push it so far that it seems to expand. Your shoulders widening as your arms thicken beyond the limits of the suit.

Take a look at your legs too. Really imagine what your rubber suit would look like with massive quads and thick calves filling it. Think about your big feet in some tall boots, and your ass and cock stretching the latex so everyone knows how horny it gets you. Just imagine how much precum you’ll find in the crotch when you open it up later, after a whole night of feeling the suit squeak and stretch around your thick muscled up body.

Now you’re ready to go out on the street and imagine everyone around you in latex, too. It’ll help you build up confidence in your new body. Imagine the dad mowing his lawn as a daddy wearing a sheer rubber tank top and ass-hugging latex booty shorts. Imagine the college boy on his bike in a full gimp suit, bouncing up and down on his built-in plug with every stroke of the pedals. Look at the jock smoking outside the gym and think about how good he’d look in some bleachers-style pants with a matching rubber cap.

See? You made it to your event just fine, and left some sexy rubber men in your wake. Didn’t I tell you you can change anything just with the power of your mind?

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

#male transformation #answered ask #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #rubber tf #infectious tf

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

"LOL I won! Kneel, loser! Remember, no tap out unless the victor said so!" he said with excitement as he slid his compression pants off to reveal a growing erect snake, ready to impale my throat. He's too dumb to realize that this is the plan all along, letting him keep scoring so he gets bigger and dumber with more points he scored. Now look at him, no more the snoozefest and scrawny 115 lbs nerd I have to tolerate as roommate. He's now physically on par with me and we clearly have the same interest in health and fitness, partying and having the absolute fun using our bodies. Plus, a bet is a bet, and respectable men always follow through with their bets and promises. This is just pure friendly banter between two best friends, no homo.

#male shapeshift #male muscle growth #male transformation #dumbed down #roommate tf #male tf #personality change