guybodyswaps

[guybodyswaps]

The Blank Profile

"He's kind of cute."

Cameron could feel his dick stir as he gazed at the shirtless photos of a nearby twunk. Nice pecs, nice abs, and bulge barely hidden by a tight speedo. Just his type.

"Hey there, I like your pics." Cameron typed, "Kind of new to this. What are you looking for on here?"

Sent. Cameron lowered his phone and let out a sigh.

"C'mon Cam, that was lame." He muttered to himself, instantly regretting his decision to press send, "You can do better than that."

It had only been a few months since he came out, and even more recently that he started hooking up with guys. He was new to all this- the apps, the culture... all of it. His eyes lit up when he heard that he had a new notification.

"Sorry, not into twinks." The man had replied, "Not a top. And not looking for a relationship." Cameron frowned, "And FYI, Grindr is for hookups, buddy. Try Hinge or something if you're actually looking for a relationship. No offense, but most people aren't trying to date rando guys off Grindr."

And then he was blocked. Cameron felt his dick soften- the reply killing his mood. The guy was right. And as Cameron reviewed his own profile, he realized how stupid he sounded. Looking for something long-term... deeper connection... dates... He even included his hobbies. All on Grindr...

"I can't believe I actually thought Grindr would be a good place to find a boyfriend," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He couldn't help but laugh. "What was I thinking?" He looked over at his desk, "I should probably being studying anyway..."

The sound a of new notification caused Cameron to look back down at his phone. A blank profile- of course. And the message?

"Yo come over."

He didn't have much to go with, but the fact he got a message made his heart flutter, especially after the rejection. And as he reviewed what little information there was, Cameron felt his dick stir.

Age: 27

Ethnicity: Middle Eastern

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 190 lbs

Position: Top

Body Type: Muscular

Tribe: Jock.

That definitely piqued his interest. After all, he was into muscular guys. Fuck it. A relationship could wait. After all, as the twunk had told him, Grindr was for hook-ups.

"Hey, I'd love to come over... but could you maybe send a pic first?" Cameron typed out nervously, biting his lip as he hit send.

A few agonizing minutes passed before the response came through, "No pics. You coming over or what?"

Cameron gulped, hesitating. This was so unlike him, meeting up with some random guy online without seeing what he looks like first. But god... his imagination was running wild with the possibilities.

"I'll come over. Text me the address."

__________

Cameron stood outside the door, heart pounding as he knocked tentatively. No answer. He double checked the address. This was the right place.

"Hello? I'm here…" he called out, voice wavering slightly as he pushed the door open as instructed, "Hello... oh crap." The smell hit him first - stale sweat, musk, and something else he couldn't quite place. He wrinkled his nose.

The studio apartment was a mess, clothes strewn about, empty beer bottles littering every surface. In the corner sat a weight bench surrounded by dumbbells, a towel tossed carelessly on top. And there, on the unmade bed, a laptop played a loud porno, two beefy guys going at it. Cameron stepped inside cautiously, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Hello? Anyone home?" His voice echoed in the messy space. He moved further in, "God, what am I doing here?" he muttered under his breath. Every instinct screamed this was a bad idea, "What the..."

He approached the laptop, morbidly curious. The two muscular men on screen grunted and groaned, lost in their intense pleasure. Cameron felt his face flush hot, imagining what it would feel like to be pinned under one of those muscular men.

"Get it together Cam." He whispered, looking around the dirty apartment, "Maybe I should just..." The weights scattered next to the bench caught his eye, "Woah, does this guy really lift that?" Cameron approached the weight bench, imagining the type of guy that could lift those weights, "I don't even think I could lift that with both arms."

He reached out to touch one of the heavy dumbbells. And as he gripped it, sudden vivid flashes of memories flooded his mind - himself, shirtless and glistening with sweat, grunting as he lifted the weight over and over. The muscles in his arm flexed and bulged with each rep.

"What the hell?" Cameron gasped, yanking his hand back. Those weren't his memories… were they? They felt so real... He stared at his hands, noticing they looked bigger, more calloused than usual. Stronger, "Fuck… I need... need some water…"

Cameron stumbled to the small kitchen area, opening the fridge. Tubs of marinated lamb, chicken skewers, and other halal meats greeted him. Memories surfaced - himself at the butcher, haggling for the best cuts, preparing the meat with practiced ease. He shook his head, trying to clear the strange thoughts.

"This isn't my food… is it?" he mumbled, reaching for a protein shake. The label was in Arabic, a language he didn't know. Yet somehow, he could read it perfectly. As he unscrewed the cap, the scent made his mouth water. He chugged half the bottle before realizing what he was doing.

"Shit!" Cameron set the shake down hard, droplets splashing onto the counter. He felt feverish, skin flushed and sensitive.

Cameron stripped off his shirt, tossing it aside carelessly. He ran a hand over his bare chest, marveling at the firm muscle beneath his palm. When did he start working out like this? When the fuck did his biceps get that big? He couldn't remember ever being this fit. Because.... because he wasn't? Right?

As he moved to the couch, more fragmented memories assaulted him - controller in hand, thumbs dancing over buttons during intense gaming sessions. Him sprawled out naked, watching sports highlights, cheering at the TV. None of these were his normal activities. Something was very, very wrong.

"No, no, no…" Cameron panted, sinking down onto the cushions. They felt familiar under his ass, like he'd sat here countless times before. "This doesn't make sense. I'm not… I'm Cameron. I don't…" He felt like something was pressing on his brain, squeezing it tightly, "I need to get out of here… I need to…"

Cameron's head throbbed as he tried to make sense of the alien memories and sensations flooding his body. The longer he stayed in this strange apartment, the more foreign and distant his own identity felt. With a burst of panic, he leapt up from the couch, stumbling towards the door. But he didn't make it far.

"Oof!" Cameron cried out as he tumbled face-first into the pile of dirty laundry. The pungent aroma of sweat and musk overwhelmed his senses. He sputtered and coughed, trying to push himself up.

"Ungh… what the fuck…" he groaned, but the words sounded wrong, too deep and guttural. His abs clenched involuntarily, and he watched in shock as defined ridges appeared across his stomach. His pecs swelled outward, dark hairs sprouting across the newly expanded muscle.

"Aah! No, stop!" Cameron wailed, scrambling backwards. His arm hair thickened and darkened, the strands elongating. He clawed at his head as clumps of brunette hair fell away, replaced by coarse black locks that soon covered his scalp in a close-cropped style.

Cameron's face contorted in agony as a beard began to sprout rapidly, coarse hairs prickling his skin. He scratched frantically at his burning cheeks and chin, recoiling in horror as the facial hair darkened and thickened.

"No, please… I don't want this!" he begged, his voice already sounding less like his own. Stumbling to his feet, he staggered towards the bathroom, nearly tripping over his changing body.

In the harsh fluorescent light, Cameron stared at his reflection in disbelief. His skin tone deepened, shifting from pale to a rich olive complexion. His once bright blue eyes clouded over, darkening to a deep, smoldering brown. The changes slowed but didn't stop, leaving him panting and disoriented. Small details shifted- thickening eyebrows, styled beard, a new chain necklace...

"What… what's happening to me?" he croaked, no longer recognizing the man staring back at him in the mirror.

It was a stranger in the mirror - a muscular Arab man with dark features and a thick beard. Panic rising in his throat, he mentally compared himself to the Grindr profile from earlier:

27 years old? Check. Middle Eastern appearance? Check. 6'2" tall? Check. 190 pounds of solid muscle? Muscular build? He flexed an arm experimentally, watching the bicep swell impressively. Absolutely. Somehow... somehow he had become that man. At least physically. But 'top'? 'Jock'? Those didn't feel right. He was still himself- a newly out college kid who just wanted to find the love of his life. He just needed some help... he just needed....

"Someone to worship my cock." Cameron's eyes widened as the words left his mouth.

"N-no… I'm not like that," Cameron stammered, but the words rang hollow. A foreign heat began to build low in his gut, his newly muscular body thrumming with an intense, single-minded desire.

"Ahhh, fuck…" he groaned, palming his growing erection through his pants. The musky scent of his own arousal filled the small bathroom, making his head spin with lust.

"No… I don't want this!" Cameron struggled against the invading thoughts and urges, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave.

"I just wanna fuck… wanna get my dick sucked…" he growled, voice dripping with desperate need. With shaking hands, he whipped out his massive, throbbing cock. It was so much bigger than he remembered…

"Ungh yeah… gonna find someone to choke on this fat cock," he grunted, fisting his meat faster. Drool leaked from the corner of his mouth as he lost himself in the haze of horniness.

His free hand roamed his sculpted torso, tweaking a nipple as he imagined a pretty little bottom gagging on his dick. The urge to breed, to mark his territory, consumed his every thought.

"I need it… need to fuck… need to cum…" Cameron babbled mindlessly, "I... fuck... no... Allah, what's happening to me?!" He cried out, tears prickling at the corners of his dark eyes, "Don't... don't wanna be like this... wanna find love, not just... unghh... just fucking..."

Cameron whimpered, even as his strokes became more aggressive, more focused solely on his own pleasure. As Cameron's climax built, a new name flashed through his mind - Raheem. And it repeated in his mind, over and over. Raheem.... Raheem.... Raheem.... until that was all that remained. With a guttural roar, he exploded, thick ropes of pearly cum erupting from his cock. His powerful body convulsed, muscles rippling as the intense orgasm crashed over him.

Raheem… Yes, that was his name now. His true name. As the final spurts dribbled from his spent cock, darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. The last thing Raheem saw before passing out was his reflection in the mirror - always his... forever... Then everything went black.

________

Raheem stirred groggily, blinking awake on the bathroom floor. His head throbbed and his muscles ached pleasantly. Rising on shaky legs, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and grinned, admiring his new physique.

"Damn, I'm fine as fuck," he purred, flexing and posing. He snapped a quick selfie and updated his Grindr profile with the picture- a blank profile no longer, "That'll get their dicks hard."

Scrolling through the app, while pawing his meaty cock, a familiar face caught his eye- some twunk. He knew he recognized that face, but he couldn't tell from where. But fuck he found him sexy. A small grin formed across Raheem's face as he sent a message.

"Yo come over."

[guybodyswaps]

It happened fast, but not fast enough to miss.

I was leaning against the counter, making dinner plans with Rachel, just a normal Wednesday night. She was in the bedroom folding laundry, talking through the door about sushi or Thai. I was half-listening, checking the time, when Eric — our roommate — walked in.

He stood there in the hall, half-shadowed, holding something in his hand that shimmered like oil on water. His face... I hadn’t seen him smile like that before. It was calm, collected. But underneath it? Smug. Ugly.

“You’ve really got it all, huh?” he said, not even looking at me at first.

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Eric took a few slow steps into the kitchen. “You. The job. The girlfriend. The little domestic thing. You think this is you. Like you were ever meant for it.”

“What—?”

“I’ve had to watch you stumble through a life you don’t even deserve. Every night. Listening to her laugh at your stupid stories. Watching her kiss you goodnight like you’re worthy of her. You’re not.”

I backed up instinctively, bumping into the island counter. My heart rate spiked.

“What’s going on, Eric?”

He held up the object — it looked like a small, jagged crystal embedded in a metal ring. The air pulsed around it. I swear the shadows on the walls started moving.

“What is that?”

“Let’s call it a key,” he said, eyes glinting. “To a better version of reality. One where things make more sense. Where I’m not living in the shadow of some bland, forgettable nobody.”

“I’m calling Rachel,” I said, voice shaking.

But I didn’t make it two steps.

Eric muttered a word — I couldn’t even register it — and the air broke. My body seized. Pain like liquid fire raced down my spine. I collapsed to the floor, convulsing, gripping the tile like it could anchor me to who I was.

“Don’t fight it,” Eric said, stepping over me. “This is a one-way rewrite.”

I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. My limbs stretched. My muscles inflated — my arms ballooned with thick, veined biceps, my chest thudded with each spasm as it packed on slabs of mass. My shirt shredded at the seams as my body grew.

“I’m going to take your place, just so you know,” Eric said, crouching beside me. “Rachel’s going to look at me like she used to look at you. She’ll never remember you. She’ll think you were always the guy sleeping on our couch. The idiot who leaves gym socks everywhere. The raunchy, stinking embarrassment who was just ‘too nice to kick out.’ That’s your new role.”

My scalp burned. I screamed as my hair pulled inward, strands falling around my face, my temples throbbing as it shrank back to a short, brutish buzzcut. At the same time, thick black stubble erupted along my jawline. It wasn’t a beard — not quite. It was a dirty, unkempt chinstrap, sharp and oily and wrong. I clawed at it, but my fingers were different now — swollen, stubby, rough-skinned.

My face in the oven’s reflection warped — my nose wider, brow heavier. My eyes dulled, losing the glint of recognition. My mouth slackened, forming into a natural smirk that felt foreign and obscene.

“You’ll forget her,” Eric said softly, almost kindly. “You’ll forget you. You won’t even miss it. You’ll love being the new you.”

The last thing I remember was the sound of Rachel’s voice calling my name from the hallway — my real name — and Eric answering.

And then..

--

Phone’s at five percent, but I’ll charge it after I get this pic up.

I swipe through the front camera real quick. Lookin’ solid. Tank’s sticking to my chest — soaked a bit, but it looks good in the mirror. Traps are hittin’. Got that shine on my shoulders. My beard’s looking tight, too. Rough and low and dirty, the way I like it. Chinstrap’s filled out real nice since I stopped trimming. Girls hate it. Dudes love it. Not my fault I know my demographic.

I tilt my head, smirk a little, lift the phone, and snap. Hell yeah. That one’s going straight to Grindr.

They can complain all they want — Rachel and Eric. Always acting like I’m some kind of feral dog they let crash here out of pity. She makes a big deal about the smell. Keeps saying I’m “stinking up the bathroom” again, like it isn’t just me. Natural musk. Man-funk. I earn it. Two workouts a day, no deo. Can’t cover this up — the bros would be disappointed.

Eric’s worse. Mister Perfect. Always cleaning the kitchen after me, always muttering when I leave laundry in the machine. I know he hates that I’m still here. But what’s he gonna do? Tell me to leave? Not happening. Not until I’ve got a place of my own. Not until the tips from the foot pics and private vids stack up enough. Living here sucks, but not more than being broke.

Besides, I got my own thing going on. Got my followers. Got my boys. I’ve got dates lined up for the weekend, and I’m booked solid tonight. One of them wants me to bring my gym bag and not change first. Says he’s into “raw” smells. I told him I haven’t worn socks for three days. He sent three fire emojis.

I flex in the mirror one more time. Yeah, I’m lookin’ good. Thick, smelly, and cocky as hell. That’s the brand.

Upload photo. Caption: “Smell like I lift. Come find out.”

God, I hope Rachel doesn't light another candle. The smell in here’s perfect and I’m not about to let her ruin the vibe before I get picked up.

Still — wouldn’t mind getting out of here. New place. My own fridge full of energy drinks, no one bitchin’ about the smell, just me and my bros. Someday.

[guybodyswaps]

It had started out like any other quiet night at home. Ben Larsen and his husband, Tyler Grant, were celebrating their anniversary—seven years together. The evening had been simple, cozy: takeout containers littered the coffee table, and soft music played in the background. The small apartment they shared was warm and lived-in, with framed photos of vacations, friends, and family smiling down from the walls.

“C’mon, Ty. Let’s grab a pic for Insta,” Ben said, leaning over and slinging an arm around his husband. His brown hair was still damp from a shower, his clean-shaven face pressed close to Tyler’s cheek.

Tyler chuckled, brushing his blonde bangs out of his eyes. “Alright, alright. Just one, though. No filters, promise.”

They propped the phone up against a beer bottle, leaned in, and snapped the photo—a simple shot of two lean, boyish men in their late twenties, smiling wide with love.

Ben tapped at his screen, typing up a sweet caption: Lucky to have this man by my side for seven years. Here’s to many more. ❤️ He hit post.

But something went wrong.

The app refreshed, and both men froze.

“Uh, Ben… what the fuck is that?” Tyler’s voice was tight, confused.

Ben blinked at the screen. The photo was not the one they’d just taken. No, this was two massive, thickly-built men, shirtless, both with heavy tattoos curling across their chests and shoulders. One had a broad, hairy chest and a thick black beard that covered half his face, framed by a black cowboy hat. The other was bald under a straw hat, his reddish-brown beard full and wild, a glint in his eye as he leaned close to his buddy.

But it was the caption that made Ben’s blood run cold: WRECKED that hungry hole tonight—hot collab with my boy BUCK KELLER. Three loads and the fucker was still beggin’. 🔥💦🐻 Full vid up now—link in bio, don’t miss this bear meat show. It was on the profile of the black-bearded man—the account was named BEARBRUTE69.

And beneath that caption, a preview video had auto-played.

“Oh my god,” Tyler whispered.

There they were—those two men—grinding, rutting, gasping. The black-bearded brute pounding into his partner, sweaty bodies slapping, their guttural moans filling the room. Tyler’s face went pale, but before either could react, it began.

Ben felt it first. His skin itched and burned as dark hair began sprouting along his chest, then thicker, denser, as if years of testosterone flooded his veins all at once. His smooth face tingled, and red-brown stubble exploded into a full, wild beard, wiry and coarse, spreading up his cheeks and down his throat. His jaw widened, nose broadening, eyes deepening under heavy brows. His lean arms swelled with muscle and fat, thick veins rising along his biceps. His soft belly firmed up just enough to form a solid gut, framed by heavy pecs dusted with hair and tattoos curling across his shoulders—tribal patterns, skulls, barbed wire. His age advanced—he looked mid-40s now, roughened by hard years, his voice a gruff baritone with a lazy southern drawl he hadn’t had before.

Tyler tried to speak, but his voice cracked, shifting lower as his throat thickened. His clean face bristled with black stubble that darkened and spread in seconds, forming a dense, square-cut beard that framed his jaw like a pelt. His brown hair darkened to black, receding just slightly under his black cowboy hat as if it had always been there. His frame widened, arms bulging with thick muscle padded by a layer of bulk. Chest hair erupted, curling dense and sweaty across massive pecs, the same sunburst tattoo from the video branding his shoulder. He aged too—pushing past 50, with lines at the corners of his eyes, a nose broken once or twice in bar fights. His voice rumbled deep, with a slow, cocky Texan accent. His name wasn’t Tyler anymore—it was Hank Slade. Owner of this house. The black-bearded bearpig who just wrecked his buddy’s ass on camera.

And Ben? He wasn’t Ben Larsen now. He was Buck Keller, forty-six, a traveling content creator who lived for collabs like this, for the raw, nasty sex his subscribers craved.

Their apartment morphed around them. Gone were the photos, the cozy couch, the bookshelves. The walls became wood-paneled, adorned with leather straps, cowboy hats, and a giant mounted bull skull. The air smelled of sweat, cum, leather polish. A camera sat on a tripod in the corner, a lube bottle next to it, and used towels strewn across a battered leather couch. A jockstrap lay discarded on the floor. Hank’s house. Always Hank’s house.

The men sat, sweaty and sated, reality fully rewritten.

Buck scratched his beard, smirking as he looked at the post on Hank’s phone. “Fuck, man, didn’t realize you was gonna post that clip so fast. You’re gettin’ your subs worked up already, huh?”

Hank chuckled, voice deep and slow. “Hell yeah. My boys been waitin’ for this collab. They love seein’ me split some hole, ‘specially when the fucker’s beggin’ for more. You took that bear cock like a fuckin’ champ, Keller.”

Buck laughed, taking a long swig from a beer he didn’t remember grabbing. “Damn right I did. Shit, Hank, you sure know how to break a man in. My hole’s gonna be singin’ for a week.”

Hank leaned back, pulling out a fresh cigar and lighting it, the smoke curling around his thick beard. “That vid’s gonna make a killin’. Might hafta get you back here next month. Thinkin’ we do somethin’ in the barn. Got a few toys out there my subs been wantin’ to see me put to work.”

Buck licked his lips, his thick fingers stroking along his beard. “Hell, man, you just say when. I’ll be here. Ain’t nothin’ I like more than helpin’ a buddy get his nut on cam. ‘Sides, you wreck me real good. Feels fuckin’ right.”

Hank grinned, eyes glinting under his hat. “Bet your subs are lovin’ it too. They like seein’ that hole get opened up proper, seein’ a real man get bred.”

Buck’s cock stirred again in his worn jeans, the massive bulge straining the zipper. “Shit, Hank, you’re gettin’ me hard again talkin’ like that.”

“Yeah?” Hank drawled, leaning in close, his cigar clenched between his teeth, his breath hot with whiskey and smoke. “Might hafta fire up that camera again. Give ‘em a lil’ bonus.”

Buck chuckled, voice low and raunchy. “Fuck yeah. Let’s give the boys what they want.”

And that was all they knew, all they’d ever been—two filthy bear pigs, living for the next collab, the next video, the next load. The sweet anniversary, the apartment, their old names—all gone, as if they’d never existed.

[guybodyswaps]

One night, while Matthew was going to bed, his phone vibrated with a notification. Shocked that someone would want to talk to him, he quickly grabbed his phone, only to see it was an email from a strange website. It was a simple website, you typed in your wish and it would come true, apparently. Matthew had no expectations from the site, but being small, thin, and rather feminine, he realized he had nothing to lose by giving it a try.

“I wish,” Matthew typed into the website, “that I was more manly.” As he hit submit, he froze. He scanned the room, and listened for something to happen. After a few seconds of anticipation, he came to the decision that the wish was phony, and closed his phone. He turned over in his bed, and went to sleep, angry that he let himself fall for something as stupid as magic. 

Matthew woke up the next day, and reached for his phone. As he did, he saw his arm and stopped. It was so big, and so harry! His hand was huge and rough. He shot up in his bed and looked down his torso, finding a beefy furry chest. He had pecs and abs! He traced his fingers along his abs, feeling the grooves of muscle. He grabbed his pecs and squeezed the firm slabs of muscle. He lifted his arm and flexed his bicep, and felt himself growing hard from how sexy his body was. 

Matt lifted the sheet and froze in shock as he was overwhelmed by how large his dick and balls were. His dick shot up in response, and he quickly grabbed it and began pumping. With his other hand, he felt through the furry bush he now had, thinking how he’d been shaving for years, but there was no way he was trimming this now. He started grunting from his own masturbation, his huge dick completely overtaking his thoughts. His mind was spiraling as he finally felt a rush and a massive load spewed from his dick, coating his furry stomach and sexy hands. He took a moment to relax, panting, his mind growing dull. 

He chuckled to himself, and cleaned himself up. Then he remembered the site. “If it gave him one wish, maybe it would give more?” he thought, as he sat down at his computer. His webcam flashed on as he logged in, and he finally noticed how manly his face had gotten. 

Matt felt his new hair and thick beard, and smiled. He began making faces to show off how handsome he was, but the thought drifted back to his mind about more wishes. He pulled up the site, but did not find a place to put his wish in. Now, it only said the words, “Wish Granted. -F~”

Upset that he couldn’t get more, he laid back in his bed, and began stroking his furry chest. As he did, the hairs seemed to get thicker and longer. He looked down at himself, and noticed his stomach was pushing out a little, and some of his chest hairs were now grey. He sat up, and felt his heart drop as his stomach inched further out, and more hairs turning grey. His pecs now looked softer, and he grabbed them to confirm his fear that they were now covered in a layer of fat. His abs were now gone, a firm stomach replacing them. He pulled his hand to his head in shock, but the worst was yet to come. As he did, he was surprised to feel a smoothness on his scalp, pulling his other hand up he rubbed it and sobbed as the realization of his baldness was setting in. His knees ached a bit as he stood up off his bed, and he made his way over to his computer to check the damage. 

Matthew sobbed as he saw his reflection, now double his age. He pulled his hands up to his new bushy beard, and sighed.

Matthew sat back in his chair, defeated. He heard his roommates talking from the living room and a new wave of panic drilled into his mind, “How am I going to explain this?”

[guybodyswaps]

ReMod App ~ One Tap to Rewrite it All

Daniel lounged back on the sun-warmed pool chair, sweat glistening on his broad chest as he casually sipped a glass of ice water and scrolled through his phone. His legs sprawled confidently, his sculpted frame barely contained in the snug black swim trunks that hugged his powerful thighs. He wore a backwards cap, massive headphones over his ears, and a lazy, satisfied grin that screamed self-assurance. Every now and then, a group of girls would giggle as they passed, stealing glances at him—and he’d flash them a knowing smirk, as if that had always been his reality.

And as far as Daniel knew… it had.

Only a few days ago, Daniel had been the least noticeable guy on the trip. He was wiry, short, and always the “funny friend,” not the one who drew attention. Sick of always playing second fiddle to his ripped, confident buddies, he’d been scrolling through his phone one night at the hotel and came across an ad for the ReMod App. It looked like some silly avatar-editing game, so he downloaded it, laughed at how you could tweak your height, body hair, jawline, and even “confidence aura.” He sculpted the perfect version of himself—tall, tan, muscular, and undeniably hot—and clicked confirm.

What he hadn’t noticed were the settings at the bottom:

[✓] Reality Rewrite

[✓] Self Forget Enabled

When the transformation hit, Daniel didn’t feel a thing. Because as far as he knew, he had always looked like this.

Gone were his old insecurities and self-deprecating humor. In their place was easy charm, natural swagger, and a track record of attention from both women and men alike. His friends never questioned the shift—because to them, Daniel had always been the alpha of the group.

There were no old photos, no records of who he used to be. Every image, ID, and memory had been rewritten to reflect the body he now had. The ReMod App, now deleted and forgotten, had done its job perfectly.

[guybodyswaps]

The Clone Machine

A light elbow to the chest woke Tyson from his sleep. He quickly opened his eyes, looking around at his surroundings in alarm until he realized that he was in lecture hall. He must have fallen asleep in class again. He glanced over at his friend Matthew, who gave him a little smirk.

“How long was I asleep for?” Tyson muttered under his breath.

“Only a couple of minutes. I would’ve woken you sooner, but you look so cute when you sleep,” Matthew replied with a wink.

Lecture had just ended, and both Tyson and Matthew rose from their seats and packed their bags.

“Tyson? Can I have a word with you?” Professor Duncan called from the front of the lecture hall.

“I’ll wait for you outside. Good luck,” Matthew whispered, heading towards the exit with the other students.

Tyson let out a sigh as he approached Professor Duncan. The man was in his early fifties, with short gray hair and a well weathered face that indicated he had been through much in his life. He looked on at Tyson disapprovingly with his steely gaze, packing his own supplies into his satchel as he did so.

“Did you have a good rest?” Duncan asked snidely with no trace of amusement.

“Professor, I -” Tyson started.

“I’m sure you have a good excuse, just as you did the last half a dozen times I caught you sleeping in my class. I am not interested in your personal issues. What I am interested in is why you choose to take up a spot in my class when there is a waitlist of students that actually want to learn what I am teaching,” Duncan lectured, sliding off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

“It’s just-” Tyson tried again.

“Every single person in this class has personal issues going on, Tyson. The difference between them and you is that they find a way to manage their problems so they can contribute meaningfully to this class, not sleep through it. At this point, you are going to need to ace the midterm next week just to scrape by with a passing grade, and based on your academic history, I find that highly doubtful,” Duncan slung his satchel up his arm and started heading for the lecture exit, walking past Tyson as he did so.

“Are you saying you’re kicking me out of the class?” Tyson asked in shock.

Duncan glanced over his shoulder at Tyson, a trace of pity in his dark blue eyes. “I’m saying that you need to get your priorities in check. Must I remind you that failing my class means you will get cut from all extracurricular activities?” Before Tyson could respond, Professor Duncan swiftly exited out into the hallway, leaving him along with his thoughts.

“So how bad did that go?” Matthew asked once Tyson emerged from the classroom. Matthew was the same age as Tyson, and the two had been good friends since meeting as freshmen in college. While Tyson was the athletic type, Matthew was more academic oriented. Despite being heavily dedicated to his studies, Matthew was in good physique, with his daily morning runs allowing him to maintain a slim frame. He had curly blonde hair and bright green eyes with a charming smile that gave him the perfect boy-next-door appearance.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tyson replied sullenly, falling in step with Matthew as they made their way through the campus towards the parking lot.

“Not great then,” Matthew surmised.

“He’s saying I’m going to fail the course. And if I fail the course, that means I’m off the team,” Tyson explained through gritted teeth, clenching his fists.

“It sounds like you could really use study group then. I’m meeting some friends in the library to prep for next week’s midterm; you should come,” Matthew offered.

“Nothing would make me happier, but I’ve got to get to work,” Tyson declined reluctantly. He could really use the extra help studying, but there was no way he could afford not to go into work. He was barely keeping up with his tuition payments and Kyle kept bothering him about getting caught up in his rent.

“Sorry, I forgot. Well, if you get off early, we’ll likely be studying late tonight. Text me!” Matthew shouted as he hurried away, heading towards the campus library.

---

Tyson wiped a thick layer of grease off the deep fryers with a damp cloth, hard rock music pounding through his headphones. Luckily, it had been a slower night at work so far, and Leon had agreed to maintain the counter so that Tyson could focus on cleaning up the kitchen.

“Tyson!” Leon shouted so that Leon could hear him over the music blaring through his ears. Tyson looked up from the fryer and took out his headphones, turning to face Leon.

Leon was in his early thirties, with a dark black baseball cap covering his bright cotton candy pink hair. He also had on a long-sleeved black shirt to cover the sleeves of tattoos he had on both his arms. The only hint of his rebellious nature noticeable in his work attire was the metal spike running through his right eyebrow. Tyson and Leon had been flirting with each other since they had started working together months ago, but with Tyson’s busy schedule he didn’t have time to even think about pursuing relationships.

“I’m heading out for a smoke break. Can you watch the counter?” Leon asked. Tyson nodded in agreement, rising from his knees and taking off the grease-stained apron he was wearing before heading out front to the counter area.

The bell rung, and Tyson looked to see his teammate and rival Travis entering. Travis was wearing his varsity letterman’s jacket with a skin-tight V-neck shirt on underneath, showing off his pecs and abs. Tyson and Travis had briefly been friends when they joined the football team at the same time, but Travis quickly grew to resent Tyson after Tyson had been made starting quarterback by their coach.

“Oh hey, Tyson,” Travis laughed, giving Tyson a quick once over in his unflattering work uniform, “I forgot you worked at this shithole.” Travis ran his hand through his spiky jet-black hair, his dark brown eyes sparkling with joy at torturing Tyson.

“What do you want, Travis?” Tyson asked, rolling his eyes.

“Missed you at football practice tonight. Not really, because it gave me another chance to show coach how wrong he was to make you part of our starting line,” Travis continued.

“I had to work. Coach was okay with me missing practice,” Tyson explained, feeling the rage seething inside of him.

“Still,” Travis smirked, “You’ve been missing a lot of practices lately. How long do you think Coach realizes you’re dead weight and just drops you from the team completely?”

Tyson wanted to leap over the counter and punch Travis, but he knew that would do him no good. Instead he calmly steadied his breathing and maintained a stony expression while facing Travis. “Are you going to order something?”

“Nah, I think I’ve lost my appetite. The smell wafting off you is rancid,” Travis chuckled, turning to exit.

After their shift, Leon offered to take Tyson out for a drink, but Tyson had to politely decline. As much as he loved the idea of having some downtime, he needed to get some sleep to be ready for football practice tomorrow. After his run in with Travis, Tyson needed to be sure to bring his A game.

---

Tyson slowly crept into the small apartment he was renting out, trying not to awaken his roommate Kyle. It was well after midnight, and he didn’t want another noise complaint. As he was making a quick dinner before bed, he noticed a note left on the fridge.

'Tyson, I wanted to talk to you about this in person but you’re never home these days. You are still two months behind in rent. You know I like you and I don’t mind covering for you now and again, but this is getting out of hand. I can’t keep paying both your rent and mine. If you can’t get caught up by the end of the month, I’m going to have to start looking for another roommate. -Kyle’

Tyson shook his head in frustration, feeling completely overwhelmed and unsure of how to proceed. He just didn’t have enough time to do everything he needed to do; it was impossible to juggle a full-time job, college courses and varsity football. Some days he wished he could split himself in two; it felt like the only way he could ever get ahead in life.

Tyson’s cellphone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see that he’d just received an email. He opened his inbox to see that it was just another spam mail; he was about to delete it when the email heading caught his interest.

“Clone machine?” He read aloud, arching his eyebrows.

---

Tyson woke up early the next morning to the sound of the doorbell. Jumping out of bed, he quickly slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a muscle shirt and hurried towards the front door. Kyle was still asleep, as was to be expected; Kyle worked from home in the software industry and usually didn’t start his day until around 10.

Tyson unlocked the apartment door and pulled it open to find there was no one in the hallway. He leaned out and did a quick look both ways, but there was no sign of movement. Glancing downwards, Tyson noticed a small nondescript cardboard box sitting in front of the apartment doorway; he picked it up before closing and relocking the door.

After returning to his bedroom, Tyson tore open the box to find what looked like a smartwatch inside. It took him a moment to remember that he had clicked on the ad for the Clone Machine late last night; this must have been related to that.

“That was fast delivery,” He muttered to himself, slipping the device around his wrist and hitting the power button on the side. When he had read the advertisement for a Clone Machine, this had certainly not been what he’d been expecting. The screen lit up with text: ‘Scanning, please wait…’

A 3D model of Tyson’s body was projected from the device, showing him naked and erect. Tyson was surprised at the high quality; when he had ordered the device, he had been more or less confident that it was some kind of scam. Looking at the device’s detailed model of his body, Tyson started to feel like it might actually be legitimate.

‘Please confirm subject: Tyson Rogers. Yes/No’ Tyson selected yes on the screen, and the 3D model of himself vanished. ‘Please select target.’

---

After football practice, Coach called Tyson and Travis to his office. Tyson still had the device wrapped around his wrist; it had seemed like a great idea when he’d make the order last night, but now that he actually had the machine in his hands he was having second thoughts. Could he really overwrite somebody else’s life with his own? Making someone into his unwilling clone didn’t seem right, no matter how much easier his own life would be with the ability to split his burdens. He’d been lost in his thoughts all morning, struggling with the dilemma, and knew he hadn’t performed well during practice.

“So here’s the situation, boys,” Coach explained, gesturing for Tyson and Travis to take a seat across his desk from him, “You’re both good. Really good. And I know that it’s common for rivalries to form, but I don’t want that for you two; we’re all on the same team, with the same goal.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Coach,” Travis nodded, a sly smirk on his lips, “Which is why I think it’s so important for the team to show up to every practice. How are we supposed to work effectively if our starting quarterback only shows up half of the time?”

Tyson opened his mouth to object, but Coach but his hands up to silence both of them. “Tyson has already discussed his circumstances with me, Travis, and I don’t want to hear anymore on the matter. That’s not why I called you in here.”

“Why did you call us in here?” Tyson asked, a sense of dread rising in him.

“I have given it a lot of thought, and I have decided that you both should share the roll of leading the team. That means that both of you will be our starting quarterback, alternating games.”

Tyson felt the ground drop out from under him; it was just as Travis had predicted. Coach was punishing him with a demotion because he wasn’t able to commit 100% to practice.

“I think that’s a great idea, Coach,” Travis said, looking at Tyson with a smug sneer of triumph.

“Coach, I…” Tyson started.

“I realize this may seem unfair, Tyson, but it’s my job to do what’s best for the team. This is not up for discussion; Travis will be starting quarterback for the game on Friday, and then you will for the game next week,” Coach stood up from his desk, indicating that the conversation was over. “Now hit the showers.”

Still feeling shell-shocked, Tyson followed Travis into the locker room. Most of the team had already showered and headed out while they’d been in the meeting with Coach, leaving the changeroom practically empty.

“I tried to warn you,” Travis laughed, starting to slip off his football uniform, “It was only a matter of time before Coach realized I’m the better player.”

“Fuck off, Travis,” Tyson responded angrily, pulling his jersey and shoulder pads up over his head.

“Good comeback,” Travis chuckled. He slammed his fist into the locker, leaning in menacingly. “Enjoy the games you have left, because I’m coming for you.”

Travis pulled down his underwear and headed for the shower room, a towel slung over his shoulder. Without stopping to think about it, Tyson raised his wrist and pointed the device towards Travis, pressing the screen to select him as a target. ‘Scanning, please wait…’

A 3D model of Travis was projected from the device. ‘Please confirm target: Travis Smith. Yes/No.’ Tyson didn’t give himself the chance to hesitate, selecting yes as soon as the option was displayed.

‘Cloning in progress…0%’ __ After stripping down fully, Tyson grabbed a towel and headed into the showers. Travis was already at one of the showers, lathering himself up; Tyson went to the shower a few away from the other man.

Travis looked over at Tyson as he entered the shower and grinned. “Like what you see, faggot?”

Tyson blushed bright red as he looked down; he’d been so excited in using the Clone Machine he hadn’t noticed he’d grown a boner. Tyson looked back over at Travis and grinned.

“You’re one to talk,” Tyson mocked, gesturing down at Travis’ member. Travis had been soft when Tyson had entered the showers, but his dick was starting to fill with blood and harden. Travis quickly covered his erection with his hands and turned away from Tyson, clearly flustered.

As Tyson watched on, Travis was slowly starting to grow a bit shorter. Travis has been a few inches taller than Tyson, but he was rapidly losing his height advantage as his limbs shortened until the two men were eye level. Next, Travis’ frame started to broaden, his shoulders widening as he took on a stockier build. Tyson looked down at the device on his wrist. ‘Cloning in progress…30%’.

“Could you pass the soap?” Tyson called out to Travis, trying to get the other man to turn around so he could better watch the changes as they happened. He expected to get a snarky reply, but Travis wordlessly turned back towards Tyson and handed him the bar of soap.

Travis’ pecs seemed to be swelling larger with each breath he took. As they bulked up, the pecs lost a little definition, growing round and beefy. Travis’ six pack abs started to flatten, vanishing as his stomach bulged outwards into a hard muscle gut. Hairs started to grow in a line up Travis’ stomach towards his navel; the patch of hair around his crotch was also growing thicker, starting off as dark brown before lightening to a blonde. The hairs along Travis’ shins and forearms also lightened, growing longer. Curly blonde hairs sprouted from Travis’ chest surrounding his newly hardened nipples.

“I never noticed how hot your body was,” Travis commented, breaking the silence between the two men. Tyson noticed that Travis’ voice was a little less rough and gutteral than usual, sounding softer and more friendly. Travis had taken his own cock in hand, slowly stroking it as he gawked at Tyson’s wet body.

“I didn’t think you were into guys,” Tyson replied, still finding the changes he was seeing right before his eyes unbelievable. As Travis continued to jerk himself, his dick grew slightly shorter but thickened considerably, his balls expanding and hanging lower.

“I wasn’t…I’m not…I’m not sure,” Travis frowned, pausing midstroke to stare off into space and frown. His personality was obviously starting to change, and Travis seemed to be caught in between the new memories from Tyson of being gay and his original memories of being straight.

“You certainly seem to be into guys,” Tyson smirked confidently, taking a step toward Travis and running his hands down his now hairy chest. Travis moaned out as Tyson slid his hand around Travis’ dick, beginning to jerk him.

“Fuck, dude,” Travis panted, wrapping his arms around Tyson and pulling him in closer. Their mouths met for an extended kiss, massaging each other’s tongues. Tyson could feel the muscles in Travis’ arms expand around him as his upper body continued to bulk up.

The two men eventually broke their kiss, and Travis slowly lowered himself down to his knees, taking Tyson’s cock in his hand. Travis’ lean legs had bulked up into two thick, sculpted thighs, the blonde hairs from his shins spreading upwards to cover his entire lower body. Travis’ tight, flat ass was also bulking up, inflating into a round bubble butt as a thin dusting of hairs grew along it.

Tyson glanced down at the device on his wrist. ‘Cloning in progress…80%’. It now appeared that Tyson and Travis were pretty much identical from the neck down, except for a few small minor changes that were still taking place on Travis’ body. Travis licked his tongue along Tyson’s shaft, causing Tyson to moan out and lean against the shower wall. Travis slid the tip of Tyson’s cock into his mouth, flicking his tongue along the head of the cock. Travis slowly took a few more inches of Tyson’s cock into his mouth, sliding back and forth along the shaft. Tyson was running his hands through Travis’ wet black hair, which was growing lighter and slightly longer.

Tyson could feel his balls starting to tighten and knew he was close. Travis’ facial features were quickly readjusting into a facsimile of his own; his dark brown eyes lightened to a soft blue, his eyebrows and nose thickened. Travis had delicate, ‘pretty-boy’ like features, but those were quickly shifting into Tyson’s more masculine face. Travis’ jaw grew more square, as his thick, well groomed beared receded back into his face to leave a light stubble.

“Fuck dude, I’m going to cum.” Travis pulled Tyson’s dick out of his mouth to get a thick rope of cum right in his face.

He heard the device on his wrist beep, and he looked down at it. ‘Cloning process complete.’ He looked down at where Travis had been to find an exact replica of himself kneeling down, face covered in cum. He noticed that his new clone had also blown his load, having been jerking off during the blowjob.

“Travis?” Tyson asked apprehensively, reaching his arm down to help his clone back up to his feet.

“I still have some of Travis’ memories, but they’re quickly fading,” the new Tyson replied, dunking his head under the shower to rinse off his face. “It worked; I’m now you. Well, I’m me, who is also you.”

“Shit. So Travis is gone for good?” Tyson asked, feeling a small pang of guilt. Travis had been a jerk, but did he really deserve what Tyson had done to him?

“We did what we had to do,” The other Tyson replied reassuringly, “Travis was going to ruin everything for us.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I can’t believe that actually worked.” Tyson and his clone stood face to face; it was like looking in a mirror.

“One of us needs to get dressed and head to class soon. It’d be really bad if there’s two of us and we still miss our lecture,” The other Tyson suggested, grabbing a towel and starting to dry himself off.

“We still have some time. First…” Tyson said, grabbing his clone and pushing him up against the wall.

“First?” His clone grinned back at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’ve always wondered what I taste like,” Tyson smirked, sliding down to his knees.

To be continued?

[guybodyswaps]

Wrong shampoo.

The idea of living with his stepfather still didn't seem good to Jimmy, an 18-year-old boy who is skinny, nerdy, gay and a fan of comics, Even though Jimmy had already been living with his stepfather for 3 days, he still didn't like the idea but he had to get used to it, but how would he do it? His stepbrother, Jax, did not help the situation to improve either, Jax almost always made fun of him for being very skinny and short and told him that he would never be a real man and that frustrated Jimmy.

But Jimmy wasn't the typical guy who would cry over insults and that kind of thing, maybe just maybe with the days everything would change, so the days went by until Jimmy came up with an idea So that his brother would not continue making fun of him, he began to exercise at home, like squats, push-ups and all that.

One day when Jimmy finished exercising he went to shower as he always did, he grabbed his towel, his boxers and went straight to the shower, Once he was there he opened the shower, whenever Jimmy felt the water he closed his eyes to feel peace and tranquility, So since she had her eyes closed she grabbed a shampoo, his stepbrother's shampoo, he started pouring some shampoo into her hair and started bathing.

Once the shampoo made contact with his skin, Jimmy began to feel strange and a little hot, as he continued bathing, his feet began to lengthen and look more masculine, A little hair began to appear on his feet as more changes were on the way.

His once thin, hairless legs began to fill with muscle as his texture began to look more masculine, His thighs began to grow in size as they now looked like two soccer balls, Hair began to appear everywhere, now his legs looked like those of a soccer player adducting to the gym.

His bag began to grow and get thicker as it went from 5 centimeters to a mighty 11 centimeters, A forest of pubic hair sprouted on his bag, giving him a more masculine appearance.

His torso began to lengthen while his shoulders grew in size, two large pecs began to emerge while an 8-pack of worked abs began to appear on his stomach, On his pectorals, which now looked like chests due to their size, a layer of hair began to grow on his chest.

His arms also began to lengthen as muscle began to appear on them, biceps and quads They came out in his arms, it seemed like he was having a great time working his muscles in the gym a layer of black hair also began to appear on these, His hands, which were delicate and pretty, began to expand while his fingers lengthened and their texture made way for masculinity.

His back filled with muscles as he became bigger and bigger.

His voice became 5 tones lower,His Adam's apple began to bulge more on his neck, while his once brown hair began to turn black While he now had a cuter, more masculine haircut, his face began to creak, All the baby fat he had began to oxidize to give way to a sharp, sharp jaw, his lips filled out and became more kissable while his eyes grew a bit larger, His nose became cute while a small earring appeared in his ear, once Jimmy washed his hair well, his memories began to fade, A small fever began to burn in his body as he inexplicably cum and with that his memories left him giving way to new memories.

Now he was no longer Jimmy, he was James, Jax's younger brother, James was 22 while Jax was 23, James was well known in college for being the captain of the football team, for his muscles, and for being good in bed and he was also heterosexual.

once James got out of the shower he put on his black Calvin Klein boxers while his pubic hair was sticking out a little, he put on his favorite gold chain while grabbing his cell phone and taking a photo for his Instagram.

[guybodyswaps]

The warm afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a soft, dappled light over the two friends as they sat on a weathered park bench. The air smelled faintly of grass and fresh blossoms. Eric slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands raking through his dark, slightly tousled hair. His face was tight with frustration, eyes glassy.

“I just—I don’t get it, man,” Eric muttered, his voice trembling between anger and hurt. “Four years. Four years, and he just stops answering my texts. Stops calling. Nothing. Like I don’t even exist anymore.”

Beside him, Jason shifted uncomfortably. Jason had never been good at this sort of thing. Emotional support wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse. His fingers drummed against his thigh, and he stole quick glances at Eric, as if searching for the right words. He wished he could do something—anything—to make his friend feel better.

“Uh… yeah, that’s… that’s rough, man. I mean, I’m sure he’ll come around?” Jason offered weakly, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. That wasn’t helpful. Not at all.

Eric let out a humorless laugh, running a hand down his face. “Come around? Jason, it’s been a month. I think I’d have better luck finding a unicorn at this point.” He leaned back, staring up at the sky, the blue stretching endlessly above. “God. I just wish—” His voice dropped to a whisper, bitter and raw. “I just wish I could have a real, good, reliable boyfriend for once. Someone who actually gives a damn about me.”

The breeze seemed to catch the words, carrying them off into the ether, and for a moment, the world felt oddly still. Jason blinked, frowning, feeling an odd tightness in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice faltered.

It started small. A strange warmth spread through Jason’s body, as though the sun had focused its rays solely on him. He shifted on the bench, tugging at his T-shirt’s collar, but the fabric felt… different. Thicker. Rougher. His gaze dropped, and he watched with dawning confusion as the soft cotton of his shirt darkened and gained weight, morphing into a worn, zip-up hoodie, the kind of garment that bore the comfortable scuffs and stretched seams of years of use. The zipper glinted in the sun, and the material smelled faintly of cedarwood and something warm and masculine.

Jason’s arms tensed involuntarily, the muscles beneath his skin thickening, gaining mass. His biceps swelled, filling the sleeves of his hoodie snugly. His forearms, once lean, now bore a dusting of dark hair that crept over the back of his hands, thicker and coarser than before. His fingers, too, seemed broader, calloused from years of working with his hands. His nails looked clean but short, practical.

His breath hitched. His chest broadened, the hoodie stretching slightly as his pecs filled out, and a forest of dark hair spread over his chest, curling out from the collar of the now-faded tank top beneath. He felt his posture shift, his shoulders squaring, spine straighter. His stomach firmed, not chiseled, but solid, the kind of strength that came from years of steady, physical work rather than gym sessions.

Jason’s hairline receded slightly as his short brown hair took on a dusting of grey, the strands coarser, cropped close to his scalp in a no-nonsense cut that spoke of maturity rather than vanity. His cheeks itched as dark stubble sprouted, thickening rapidly into a full, neatly groomed beard that framed his square jaw. The beard was rich and dark, flecked with silver at the chin and along the edges, giving him a distinguished, weathered look.

His features aged subtly—lines creased at the corners of his eyes, evidence of years spent laughing and squinting into the sun. His skin took on a tanned, slightly rougher texture, the kind that came from long days outdoors. His ears seemed a little larger, or maybe just more prominent against the closely shorn sides of his head. His nose looked stronger, and his brow heavier.

Jason’s jeans grew looser in cut, more practical, worn in all the right places. His sneakers darkened, thickened, transforming into sturdy boots that felt familiar, as if he’d broken them in over countless hikes and long walks. The laces were double-knotted, the leather scuffed but well cared for.

As his body changed, so did his mind. A calm settled over him, steady and sure. He felt older—not just in body, but in experience. The awkwardness he’d felt a moment ago evaporated, replaced by an easy confidence, a quiet understanding of what Eric needed. No—what his boyfriend needed. His name wasn’t Jason anymore. Jason felt foreign now. His name was Jack. Jack Turner. And Eric… Eric was his partner, his man, the person he’d shared his life with for years.

Jack smiled, warm and full of affection, his voice deep and steady now, with the faint rasp of age and a life well lived. “Hey, babe. You okay?” he asked, reaching out to brush a thumb over Eric’s cheek.

Eric blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and his expression softened instantly. There was no trace of heartbreak in his eyes anymore, only the easy comfort of someone who knew he was loved. He leaned into Jack’s touch, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… thinking about how lucky I am.”

Jack chuckled, low and rich. “You better be,” he teased, pulling Eric closer so their shoulders touched. The park, the day, everything felt perfect. This wasn’t the aftermath of a breakup. This was a quiet afternoon date with the man he loved. The world had always been this way.

Eric glanced up at him, his eyes bright. “I don’t say it enough, but… I’m really glad we found each other.”

Jack’s arm draped around Eric’s shoulders, protective and solid. “Me too, kiddo,” he said fondly, the term of endearment slipping out naturally. “Me too. Now, how about we grab that coffee you like and take a walk by the water?”

Eric grinned. “Only if you’re buying.”

Jack gave a mock sigh, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path as they rose from the bench. “A man can’t catch a break. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

The two of them strolled off, side by side, the warm breeze ruffling Jack’s beard and the sun casting a golden glow over the world they shared. Neither thought of the past that had been—only the present that felt so right, so certain.

[guybodyswaps]

The Truth Changes You

Elliot had always been adorable.

Blonde hair that flopped just right, soft blue eyes behind round glasses, and a lithe, almost delicate frame that made him look years younger than he was. He wasn’t weak—he had a light tone to him from his usual cardio and light yoga—but next to his best friend Andrew, he always felt small. Invisible.

And maybe that’s why he loved Andrew. Secretly. Deeply. Painfully.

They were opposites. Andrew was tall, broad-shouldered, masculine to the core, with thick arms and even thicker legs. Tattoos, a gravelly voice, a scent that drove Elliot crazy. He was everything Elliot wasn’t—and everything Elliot wanted.

They were lounging in Elliot’s apartment, a lazy Saturday stretched out ahead of them. The air was warm, the windows cracked, music low in the background. Elliot had been quiet, fidgeting nervously on the edge of the couch. Finally, he blurted it out:

“Andrew... why won’t you give me a chance?”

Andrew’s eyes didn’t flinch. He just raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want the truth?”

Elliot nodded.

“Sometimes,” Andrew said slowly, his voice like gravel and honey, “the truth changes people.”

Elliot’s stomach fluttered, but he didn’t back down.

Andrew leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You’re cute, Elliot. But you’re not my type.”

That hit Elliot hard—until Andrew added, “I like guys with a big cock and a set of heavy balls to match.”

Elliot blinked, confused—then gasped.

His groin flushed with heat, then a weight, then a sudden throbbing pressure. His breath hitched as he looked down. His shorts were tenting, swelling, his bulge growing obscenely larger, thicker, heavier with each pulse. He groaned, the fabric straining to contain the sudden mass of manhood between his thighs. He could fill his sack stretch as his balls began to swell, fill, then hang lower.

“What’s happening?” he panted, flushed, aroused, afraid.

But Andrew just smirked. “You wanted a shot with me, right?”

Elliot nodded, squirming with need.

“Then you’ll need more hair.”

Instantly, Elliot’s skin began to itch—then tingle.

He squirmed, gasping, as soft golden hair erupted from his chest, then darkened and thickened, spreading over his pecs and down his stomach. His pits itched madly as bushy tufts sprouted, curling and musky. Hair spilled down his thighs, thickened around his calves, and climbed over his ass, finally making its way it's way to his arms. His cheeks tingled, then stubble broke through, giving him the beginnings of a rugged jawline.

“Andrew…” he moaned, half-terrified, half-desperate with desire.

Andrew leaned closer. “Not done yet. I like a man with muscle.”

Elliot’s entire body spasmed—then cramped, twisted.

He doubled over, groaning as his shoulders broadened with a cracking pop. His back grew thicker, more sculpted. His biceps swelled outward with meaty curves. His chest pushed out, forming thick pecs that bounced with every twitch. His flat stomach rippled into firm abs. His ass expanded—round, firm, strong—and his thighs surged into thick, hairy trunks. His calves bulged, and his feet stretched a couple sizes longer, filling out until he looked… massive.

Sweat poured from his brow. His glasses had slid halfway off. He was panting like an animal, lost in the heat of change. He collapsed into Andrew’s arms, trembling.

“There he is,” Andrew whispered, holding him tightly, running his nose along Elliot’s sweaty, newly hairy neck. “There’s my man.”

Elliot’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind scrambled and overwhelmed. But his body pulsed with power, desire… hunger.

Andrew stood, reached for the duffle bag he’d brought, and pulled out a black tank top, tight shorts, slip-ons, and a cap.

“Put these on,” he said with a grin. “Come on. We’re going to the park.”

Elliot looked up, still catching his breath. “The park?”

Andrew winked. “I want to show off my new man to the world.”

And as Elliot stood, legs thick, chest proud, bulge still straining his shorts… he didn’t feel like the geeky boy anymore.

He felt like a man.

And he finally got his wish - to be with Andrew, to be his guy... just not in the way he imagined it.

[guybodyswaps]

Becoming His Beast

He was in the middle of a quarterly presentation—sharp suit, clean-shaven, tie knotted tight, posture professional. Every slide click was punctuated by a confident remark. That was until it began.

It started as an itch. Barely noticeable at first, crawling under his collar. Then more intense—like something was erupting beneath his skin. He coughed, tugged at his tie, then froze as a tingling sensation shot across his jaw and cheeks. Everyone in the meeting room turned toward him as a thick, dark beard burst across his once-smooth face, spreading like wildfire. His eyes widened in horror, his lips trembling as the hair crept down his neck, curling and thickening with unnatural speed.

“Are you… okay?” someone asked hesitantly, but it was too late.

His shoulders snapped outward, seams of his suit jacket splitting with audible pops. He lurched forward, gripping the table, veins bulging along his swelling biceps and arms. His chest heaved outward with thick slabs of heavy muscle, dragging his shirt buttons to their breaking point. Pop-pop-pop-pop! They shot across the room like bullets, revealing an explosion of dark, swirling chest hair and swelling, powerful pecs beneath.

Then came the gut. A tight, meaty swell surged beneath his ribcage, rounding outward with solid, masculine weight—not fat, but a proud, muscular belly that jutted out and demanded attention. The fabric strained over it, the tucked shirt completely undone, flapping helplessly at his sides.

Gasping in confusion, the man staggered out of the meeting room, shirt flailing behind him, remnants of his jacket dragging off his arms. He pushed through the hallway, heading toward the bathroom, his body convulsing, reshaping. His voice—deep, gravelly, feral—grunted with each transformation, “F-fuck… what the hell is—ahhh...!”

In the bathroom, he clutched the sink, panting. His reflection stopped him cold.

The man staring back was massive. His traps were thick, shoulders hulking. His arms bulged, covered in a fine mat of black hair. His chest—dense and coarse with fur—rose and fell with each shaky breath. His gut was fully pronounced now, round and solid. His ass, once narrow and forgettable, now poured out behind him in thick, muscular curves that made his pants split right down the seat. His thighs—tree-trunk thick—left no room in the slacks, the zipper barely holding in his swelling cock, already throbbing against the fabric.

His voice rumbled low, alien to him now. “What… happened to me?”

His cock pressed harder, leaking inside his shredded briefs. His balls hung heavy, his need rising into something animalistic. Rage, lust, power—it all surged through him like fire. He felt in heat.

Just then, his phone buzzed. A message from his boyfriend lit up the screen:

Can’t wait to see you, baby. I knew the serum would work. You’re finally who you were meant to be. My big, hairy, horny man. Now hurry home. I want all of you.

He stared at the text, breath hitching, cock twitching.

So this wasn’t random. It wasn’t a curse. It was a gift—a plan.

He grinned, wide and wild, licking his lips. Buttons gone, shirt open, pants torn, testosterone radiating from him.

He wouldn’t go back to that meeting. He had something more important to do.

He was going home to claim the man who made him into this beast—and fuck him until the walls shook.

[guybodyswaps]

The Transfer Auction - Vince

(Original story posted June 29th 2023) This story has been Updated!

When I wrote this story back in the day, I did so with the intention of following it up with some kind of series. It didn’t end up happening unfortunately but after revisiting it I’m once again considering the idea of writing up some more stories surrounding the auction. I’ve already got a handful of ideas. Once I’ve finished reuploading my archive I’ll try to remember to write something else for the auction!

Late on the first Sunday evening of every month, an auction was held. But this was no ordinary auction of course. It was held at a private location where only a few were privileged and trusted enough to be allowed entry. These people were either those with vast amounts of wealth or those who had special connections. Or simply of course. The only other way to enter the auction was to ‘compete’.

It all took place in a large showroom with a huge luxurious stage up front. There were multiple rows of chairs seated before the stage, many of which were already being filled by those arriving. Each one of them understandably eager for the show to start. As this was the men’s auction, naturally the crowd was made up almost entirely of rich men. The kind of rich you’d be able to sense at a mere glance. High end tailored suits, designer clothes, expensive watches, perfect hairstyles. The type of men that could spend thousands in a single day and hardly bat an eye. And yet, because of its unique and fascinating nature, this auction had drawn them all here. Because at this auction they could buy something they wouldn’t be able to buy anywhere else. So naturally when the lights dimmed, the crowd erupted with applause while a man made his way to the left side of the stage where a podium sat.

“Good evening everyone! My name is Gavin Alexander and I’ll be your host for the night!” He announced via the microphone with a wide grin. “I can’t help but notice just how many of you there are! I suppose it’s only appropriate for me to lay the ground rules. You’ve probably all read the pamphlet but allow me to reiterate the basics for anyone who didn’t.” He took a small breath before continuing with a more serious demeanor. “To start, we expect everyone here today to conduct themselves with professionalism. Any rowdy behaviour during the bidding process will not be tolerated. Second, anyone caught bribing the staff will be permanently banned. Same goes for any kind of manipulation of the event. Third, you are not to harass any of the men seen on stage here today after the event regardless of which group they enter from. And Finally, we kindly ask that all mobile phones be silenced along with any other devices on your person that may cause unnecessary disruption.”

He paused for a moment, allowing the people before him to do as instructed. His eyes flickered across the room as he watched the crowd of well groomed men checking their pockets to make sure the phones were on silent.

Gavin's smile swiftly returned moments later. “Now, with that out of the way, let’s get this show started!” He announced, causing the crowd to erupt with applause once more. Moments later the overhead lights began to dim as the main stage beamed to life with gleaming spotlights, preparing for what was to come.

Moments later a group of ten men came onto stage, all in nothing but a tight speedo with a number and letter pinned to it. Nothing was left to the imagination. The men varied slightly in age with the youngest looking around 20 years old and the oldest seeming to be in his mid 40’s. They also varied in height, appearance and race but the one thing that remained consistent throughout all ten men was that they were in great shape. Most of them were the size of huge bodybuilder’s you’d typically see showing off their gains and giving out tips online. That said it almost seemed like a bodybuilding competition to see all those massive meatheads all lined up together on stage.

“As is tradition by now, we like to start every auction off with some of the biggest, beefiest and hunkiest men we have to offer. Each and every one of them is a tower of thick muscle mass that I’m sure any one of you wealthy gentlemen in the crowd will be eager to strike a transfer with.” He said as he gestured towards the line up, prompting the brutes on stage to begin hitting an array of poses to show off their physiques. “No prizes for guessing what most of you are going to want from these adonis’!” He joked, kindling a hearty chuckle from the crowd.

Gavin took the microphone with him as he stepped down from the podium. “As per usual each one of our transfer models here today have been given the chance to set a few guidelines as to what is off limits and what’s up for grabs. They’ll be happy to share these with you as we proceed. Naturally this will be the same for each group we bring on stage tonight with the exception of our criminal selection. These are of course men who’ve been ordered to take part in our auction in addition as part of their sentences. As such these men don’t have the luxury of setting guidelines and so everything is up for grabs with them.” He said clear and sharp before making his way across the stage to the first hunk in line.

“Now to our first model of the night. Mr Chase Adams!” The crowd let out another swift applause. “What are your terms Chase?” He asked before holding the mic up towards the hunk with 1A pinned to his speedo.

“Well I’m cool with most stuff to be honest. I’m happy to transfer muscle, body fat, hair and all that stuff. The only things that are off the table for me I’d say are genitals and anything to do with my face.” Chase happily listed-off rather fairly. Soon after the bidding for his body began at around 300K. Many of the spectators were very eager to buy an opportunity to transfer with the well proportioned, fair skinned hunk. But there was one man in the crowd who wasn't the least bit interested in Chase.

Vince Hamlin.

He wore a casual grey suit that flattered his unassuming form fairly. Yet that very casual tone of his outfit made him seem a little underdressed when compared to some of the other men in the audience. Besides that he was easily identifiable by his shaven head and a nicely trimmed beard that framed his handsome looks perfectly. Vince leaned back in his chair as he waited patiently for the bidding on Chase to come to a close. The quicker they got to the sixth man in line, the better. Number six was only one Vince really had his eye on.

For the next half an hour or so Vince sat skimming through the pages of the pamphlet again or using his bidding paddle as a fan while he waited. He watched as the host descended down the line of hunks. The one after Chase was an asian man who had the face of a super model that almost seemed a little out of place atop his hulking body. After him was another white dude who was the smallest of the bunch but still huge compared to the average gym goer. Vince couldn’t help noticing how more of the overweight men in the crowd began bidding once when each guy mentioned that body fat transferral was on the table. At last however he found himself sitting up a little straighter when the host finally approached the sixth man in line.

“Next up is our 1F model for this month, Mr Darius Crawford! By the looks of it he’s our tallest hunk here tonight! But before we start fighting over him, what are your terms Mr Crawford?” He asked the looming man.

Just as the host had said, Darius was certainly the tallest contestant out of the bodybuilding batch. Naturally he was huge all over with enormous muscles that rippled along his rich ebony skin. Some of the gay men in the crowd were practically drooling at his mere presence, Vince included though he tried to hide it.

“For me, the things that are off limits are my genitals, my race and my age in either direction. Besides that everything else is up for grabs.” He spoke with a deep, masculine tone into the mic before giving a thumbs up to the audience.

“You heard him folks!” Gavin said as he turned back towards the audience. “Now how about we start the bidding at… let’s say Six Hundred Grand? That sound fair to you Darius?” He turned back towards the bodybuilder who gave a satisfactory nod. “Six Hundred Grand it is!”

Right away people in the crowd began raising their paddles. 650K, 700K, 800K, 950K! The number kept rising at a rapid rate and it was no surprise considering Darius seemed to be one of the biggest prizes of this selection. Just as the numbers were reaching the mid one millions however, Vince raised his paddle and shouted “Four Million!” There were a few glances in his direction, people slightly surprised at the sudden jump in bid.

“Going once!” The host beamed in Vince’s direction. “Going Twice?!” He added. “Any more bid’s!? This is your last chance! Go-” before he could finish he was interrupted by another bidder.

“Five Million!” Shouted a 60-something year old man.

“Seven Million!” Another one screamed with his paddle in the air.

“Twelve Million!!!” One more chimed in.

These bidders were persistent. More so than Vince had expected. Then again most of them are middle aged dudes with far too much money on their hands so he should’ve anticipated this. What he’d thought might’ve scared the other bidders off had only made them more eager as the numbers only went into higher and higher millions. And so with a big sigh he threw his paddle up again and shouted…

“TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION!!!”

The host and the audience were stunned. “T-two hundred and fifty… million? I don’t think we’ve ever had a bid that high on one person before.” The host muttered before quickly trying to regain his composure. “G-Going once!” He began. “Going Twice! Any last competitors?!” There was a brief moment of silence and… nothing. “Sold! To the handsome gentleman in the grey suit!” He announced proudly with wonder in his voice.

Vince practically fell back into his seat, grateful that he didn’t have to increase his bid any higher. “Fuck this had better be worth it…” he grumbled to himself before resigning to sit through the remaining men on stage.

After that the bidding returned to normal. The host continued down the line of remaining hunks on the stage as each of them sold for a decent price around a few million or more but none bothered to bid much higher. Vince couldn’t really care either way though. He’d already secured exactly what he’d come here for. And so it wasn’t long before the tenth and final man in line was sold meaning the show could continue on to its next phase.

“Alright everyone! That’s all for our bodybuilders tonight!” Gavin announced. “They’ll all be ready and waiting for those of you that won the bids after the show but before that we have our second wave of men!”

With that the hulking brutes made their way off stage to make room for the next group. Moments later ten more men stepped up on stage. Like the former group they were clad in nothing but speedos however they weren’t meatheads this time. Instead this group was a line up of some of the burliest and hairiest men Vance had ever seen. Most of them have strong builds made up of a generous mix of fat and muscle. Some of them were noticeably fatter and/or thicker than others with hairy bellies of varying sizes that all seemed to protrude over the waist of their speedos.

“Here we have tonight’s big burly bear selection! They’re some of the most prime beef furballs we know. Any one of these fabulously thick hirsute men would be perfect for anyone in the crowd looking to add a little more fur to their frame. Assuming they’re willing to part with it of course. Not to mention they’ve all got plenty of meaty thickness to share with anybody looking to fill out their frames with a few extra pounds of comforting fat!” Gavin said as he walked along the line of bears on stage, selling them to the audience perfectly.

The bidding began with Gavin introducing the first macho daddy bear in line but Vince wasn’t the least bit interested. He’d already gotten what he came for so he pretty much just zoned out for the rest of the bidding. Most of the bears had much lower starting bids than the bodybuilders due to them not being in as high demand. The highest the bids got up to during that second group was Eight Million. Respectable of course but nowhere near the massive bid he’d made. Though in honesty Vance still wasn’t sure whether he was proud or embarrassed to have bid as much as he did. He just had to keep thinking about his reward. It would soon be worth it.

Eventually the tenth man of the bear group was sold before they exited the stage together. After them came a bunch of brainiacs who were all highly intelligent in one area or more and were willing to transfer some of that intelligence. Each of them proved their intelligence by answering a few rapid but complex questions in their area of expertise. Once they were finished however, the next set were all lean and skinny men who were advertised mainly as group that the more rotund men in the bidding crowd could transfer as much of their bodyfat as they wanted onto. More and more batches of men across the stage during the night. Once all the specialised groups had gone through, they simply had groups of miscellaneous men of varying body types randomly put together go up on stage as well for anything niche or different they may have to offer. Or simply to have a cheaper bid.

Vince hadn’t stayed to watch the whole of the show after making his bid on Darius. At some point he’d wandered off to the bar for a drink and some food while he waited for the bidding to conclude. Every now and then he’d hear the announcement speakers mention which group of men were coming on stage next. Though he hadn’t really planned on going back to watch the rest of the bidding, when the speakers mentioned that the criminal group was coming up last, he found himself pulling away from the bar and heading back into the main showroom to watch the final batch of men.

He got there just in time to watch as security escorted the criminal group up on stage. They were a mix and match of men who’d all broken the law in some way or another to land themselves on that stage and up for auction. If Vince was being honest none of them seemed all that special physically. Mostly average dudes without a whole bunch going for them, hence why their bids started fairly low. However it wasn’t their looks alone that made them stand out, it was the fact that they weren't allowed to set guidelines. The winning bidders would be allowed to transfer as much as they wanted between themselves and the criminal models regardless of agreement. No doubt some people in the crowd would get off on that. And so Vince watched as the host Gavin went down the line of criminal men, putting each one of them up for bidding until all of them had been sold.

“And with that, the bidding part of tonight’s event comes to close!” Gavin stated after returning to the podium. “Those of you who won the bids, please allow members of our staff to escort you to our transfer facilities. Everyone else feel free to help yourselves to the buffet near the bar if you haven’t already. There’s plenty of free food and drinks as a thank you from us for attending tonight!”

Vince got up from his chair and made his way over towards a group of staff with the other winners. The staff checked the numbers as well as each winner’s bidding paddle to make sure everything was in order. Once that was taken care of they were led through a pair of double doors, down a flight of stairs and through a maze of corridors with a seemingly endless amount of rooms. Each room however had a number and letter that matched what each model had clipped to their speedos. Every man from the first batch, the bodybuilders, had from 1A, 1B, 1C onwards up until 1J. Then moved onto 2A onwards for the second group of models, the bears. Vince wouldn’t get anywhere near those doors however as his journey ended quickly at 1F, the same number and letter that’d been pinned to Darius on stage.

“Right this way sir.” One of the staff kindly ushered Vince inside room 1F while the remaining winners continued down the hallway. Once inside he was almost shocked by the large futuristic looking machine that took up most of the room. It was a massive device that was connected to two chairs, both of which seemed to have some kind of helmet above them that was directly wired to the machine. He’d never seen anything quite like it… and they had god knows how many of these things?? It was only then that he finally noticed Darius, the gigantic hunk he’d won in the bid. He’d been sitting patiently waiting since the bodybuilders bid ended and was eager to get up from his seat and greet Vince.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr…?” Darius began, holding out a large hand.

“Mr Hamlin. But you can just call me Vince.” The rich man responded while accepting the handshake. “So I assume you’ve done this before?”

“Once yeah. A couple years ago.” Darius confirmed. “It didn’t hurt or anything. You just feel a bit weird for a while afterwards as you try to adjust.” He explained rather nonchalantly. “And thank you by the way. I never imagined someone would bid that much for me. I know the organisers take 40% but that’s still one hundred and fifty million my way… I can’t thank you enough.”

Vince smirked as his eyes scanned over the hulking man’s form once again. “Your body is all the thanks I need.” He then turned his attention to the staff in the room with them. “So what’s next?” He asked.

The staff explained that all they needed to do now was agree on what was being transferred. After that they just needed to get seated and the machine would do the rest.

“So what’s it gonna be?” Darius prompted, taking a couple steps back to allow Vince a chance to take in everything that was up for offer.

“Your muscle. I want as much of it as you can give.” Vince didn’t hesitate for a second. He knew exactly what he wanted and who could blame him. Darius was a monster with how massive he was. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be huge like you. I’ve worked out a lot over the years but I’ve always struggled to put on any decent size. But now… suddenly it’s all possible.” Vince had to try and stop himself from salivating over the pure adonis before him. If he hadn’t been imagining having all that muscle for himself, he’d have been picturing himself fucking Darius’ huge bubbly muscle ass instead. If he didn’t have so much restraint, he’d certainly have a boner right now.

Darius didn’t particularly mind the lustful stares the other man was giving him. He wasn’t gay but, with how much this guy was paying him, he couldn’t really complain. The least he could do was let Vince admire the merchandise. “Yeah I figured you’d say that. I am pretty huge huh?” He gave one of arms a quick flex. “Was there anything else you had in mind?”

Vince thought about it for a second as he looked up at the giant before him. That’s when it hit. “How about some of your height as well? I’m 5’10 but I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be over 6 foot and you look like you’ve got plenty to spare.”

Vince certainly wasn’t wrong. Last Darius had checked he was about 6’5. Naturally he was accustomed to always being the tallest man in a room.

“Depends. How much are you thinkin?” Darius queried.

Vince thought for a moment before answering. “How does 5 inches sound?”

Darius went back and forth in his head for a moment. 5 inches wouldn’t be too much right? He’d still be about 6 foot afterwards… “Alright, fine. 5 inches. But no more!” Darius put his foot down on that. He might’ve been getting paid a lot but he wasn’t about to drop down to 5’11 or below. He was a tall fucker and he wanted it to stay that way. Thankfully Vince seemed more than satisfied with that.

Just then some of the staff chimed in. “Alright so we’ve got 5 inches of height and as much muscle as can be safely transferred… Is there anything else you want to request, Mr Hamlin?” They were already inputting settings into the machine regarding the previous requests to prep the machine.

Vince pondered on it for a second. Tall and muscular, what more could he want? He was about to say that was all until his eyes nestled onto Darius’s bulge. “Well… I know on stage you said it was off limits but I was wondering…”

“Nope. Not happening.” Darius didn’t even need to hear the rest to know exactly what Vince was about to ask. “Sorry man. My girl doesn’t care how huge and buff I am but she loves my big dick. Can’t help you I’m afraid.”

For a moment Vince thought of offering Darius a little extra money in exchange but he could tell just by the look on the hunks face that it wasn’t going to happen. Luckily for Vince he had a backup plan… “Oh alright. Just muscle and height it is.” He waved his hands about a little before turning to the staff. “I suppose we’re ready now.”

Once all was decided both Darius and Vince were made to sign a few documents confirming that they both consented to the transfer and that Vince would pay his fee afterwards or would be reprimanded accordingly. And once that was taken care of, they were taken back over to the machine…

As the pair of them were getting strapped into the chairs however, Vince whispered to the man that was doing his straps. “Hey. I’ve got a deal for ya.” Then, as quickly and quietly as possible, Vince proposed that he would give the man and his co-workers in the room a hefty amount of money if they agreed to transfer some of Darius’ dick size to him despite what the hunk had said.

The staff member gave him an awkward look for a second, his moral compass clearly being challenged. “S-sir… you should know that’s against the rules. You shouldn’t-” he was cut off before he could finish

“It’s only against the rules if you or your buddies tell someone. Wouldn’t you rather earn a personal bonus on top of your pay check?” Vince continued to sweet talk the man into doing his bidding. “Come on. Just say yes. Nobody has to know…”

The man looked at Vince nervously. “I… well…” but before he could get a sentence out, Darius spoke up from around the other side of the machine.

“Yo! What’s taking so long over there?” I asked pointedly.

The staff member glanced back at Vince, thinking for a second before nodding at him. Vince grinned back in return, glad to see that his little gamble might’ve paid off. He watched as the staff member returned to his colleges, seemingly pitching Vince’s proposal to them as well. Thankfully for Vince, they all seemed eager to go ahead.

Before long both Vince and Darius had the helmets placed on their heads, ready for the transfer. Soon enough there was a loud engine-like roar as the machine blazed to life. For a moment Vince didn’t feel anything besides the buzzing of the huge device behind him so he was taken by surprise when a bolt of energy from the helmet came surging through his body. It was an almost indescribable feeling, as though he was being flooded with electricity. Yet instead of frying him to a crisp it was energising him instead! It felt… exhilarating! So much so that he didn’t even realise the transfer was already starting to take place.

Slowly but surely Darius’s muscle mass began to decrease. His arms getting smaller, his huge chest deflating, his legs shrinking. With every second that passed he lost more and more size. All of that muscle he’d worked tirelessly to gain steadily drained away along with all the strength that came with it. All of it being converted into pure energy that was processed by the machine. Before long Darius was a far cry of his former self, looking rather thin and lanky rather than the imposing he’d been previously.

Of course all that energy had to go somewhere and that place was Vince. As soon as the machine had finished absorbing Darius’ muscle mass, it began pumping all of that energy into Vince’s body. He felt it immediately. A burgeoning power growing inside him. Gradually his once average body started to inflate with newfound muscle. His biceps and triceps were the first things he felt. The way they ballooned with size as pulsing veins snaked across his skin. His back and chest were quick to follow as they broadened at a rate that caused Vince’s shirt and jacket to groan under the pressure. Even his thighs and calves began to thicken significantly by the second, causing his growing legs to strain against his suit pants. Before long a series of ripping sounds could be heard coming from all across Vince’s suit.

His jacket was the first to give in as the sleeves started to tear under the pressure of his ever growing shoulders and biceps. The sound alone was music to his ears. Vince couldn’t actually see what was going on due to the helmet but the ripping of his clothes was a good indicator of how huge he was getting! His upper body continued to broaden and expand until his jacket pretty much exploded to reveal the already ripping shirt underneath which no doubt wouldn’t last long. But before his shirt had the chance to give, his quads had the honour of bursting through his suit pants first in all their muscular glory. Their sheer mass couldn’t be contained any longer. And not a moment later the top button on his pants came flying off as well as his hips and waist grew thicker to accommodate. But not as thick as his ass. Vince’s once average butt ballooned to a colossal size, practically elevating him in his chair with its mass and giving him a nice round bubble butt just like Darius once had. Soon after he couldn’t help but let out a stifled grunt as his chest heaved forwards, two enormous pecs forming at last with hardened nipples capping each one off. Those being the final straw that caused his shirt to tear apart at last.

But of course just because Vince’s clothes were in tatters didn’t mean the growth was about to stop. There was still more energy from Darius the machine had to give! And so his body kept expanding, growing even larger with muscle. His thighs had grown so thick that it was impossible for them to not press against one another. His upper body had become so swole that his arms had been forced almost comically out to the sides both due to the enormity of his arms themselves and sheer size of his lats. By the time the machine had finally run out of energy to pump into Vince’s body, his muscles looked engorged with unbelievable size and strength. No wonder since it was cramming all the muscle of a 6’5 man into 5’10 body. He was so swole now that if the transfer ended now, he’d hardly be able to move properly. But of course that had been accounted for and was about to change with the wave of the transfer.

The machine returned its attention to Darius once again, sucking even more energy out of him. Only this time instead of taking his muscle, it was slowly shrinking his body in another way. His limbs and torso all diminished until his height had reduced its way down to 6 foot exactly. On the plus side for Darius, his body didn’t look quite lanky now as it had moments ago.

Of course as soon as this was done the energy was once again redirected towards Vince. He felt the energy filling him once again, only this time it felt a little different. Instead of expanding, he felt himself stretching out instead! His arms and legs all grew longer as his height increased. Only coming to a halt once Vince reached an impressive 6’3. Simultaneously the muscle he’d gained moments prior was now able to spread itself out more evenly across his larger frame in a way that allowed him to actually move.

Now was the moment of truth. Had that bribe truly been enough to get Vince the last thing he wanted? There was silence for a moment as if the staff were still debating amongst themselves on what to do. For a second Vince was worried his little plan had failed. That perhaps they weren’t going to go through with it. Or worse, the staff were considering reporting him. That is until the machine roared to life one more time…

“Hey uhhh… sorry you two but we just need to make sure there’s no ummm… imbalances between you both before we shut this thing down.” Said a voice over the speaker.

Darius was of course none the wiser but Vince knew exactly what that meant.

The machine slowly and carefully started sucking more energy out of Darius so that he wouldn’t take notice. Unbeknownst to the once massive man, his penis was gradually getting smaller until it had lost about 3 inches of its length and a bit of its girth. Even his balls shrunk slightly to match.

When the machine turned its energy Vince however, it made the transfer nice and fast. Within seconds he felt his cock inflate rapidly, going from an average 5 inch cock to an impressive 8 incher with some added girth to top it off. The rich, conniving man couldn’t help but grin maliciously underneath the helmet as his balls swelled fatter as well.

A few minutes later the transfer machine was powered down properly before the staff returned to remove the helmets. As soon as they did, Vince looked down at himself in wonder. His body. It was everything he’d ever dreamed. Gigantic in every sense of the word with bulging muscle all over! He then glanced over at Darius who looked tiny in comparison. The intimidating bodybuilder he’d once been was now replaced by an average and rather skinny looking dude.

As soon as his restraints were removed, Vince tore away the remaining shreds of clothes leaving him in nothing but his dress shoes, socks and underwear. His ass cheeks were practically eating the underwear from behind while his fat new cock and balls created an unmistakable outline.

The very first thing Vince did was lift his hands up to grope his pecs, squeezing the muscle with pure wonder. They felt so soft yet when he tensed his pecs they became firm and hard. After that he bent forwards slightly and flexed both his arms together, feeling as they bulged with strength. His biceps looked like mountains on his arms as they peaked with insane size that not many would be able to match. And his lats… they were gigantic! Even after his increase in height, they were still pushing his huge arms permanently out to the sides, giving him more of a natural alpha stance. It was incredible. He felt incredible!

Before Vince could continue exploring his god-like build however, one of the staff members stepped up carrying a pair of large black boxer briefs, some white joggers and a huge black t-shirt. “We figured you might want a change of clothes before you leave Mr Hamlin. We always have backups.”

The rich Adonis smirked before taking the clothes. “Thanks. I had such a one track mind towards getting this muscle that I hadn’t even considered my clothes.” He glanced down at the remains of his suit strewn across the floor. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s no problem at all sir. We’ve found most people actually prefer keeping their clothes on during a muscle transfer so they can rip out of them anyway. We assumed that’s why you didn’t undress.”

Without another word, Vince pulled down his insanely tight underwear and kicked them onto the floor. The staff turned away but not before getting a glance at Vince's huge cock swinging free. It seemed that despite his self control, he was still rocking a semi hard on already. Of course the new hunk couldn’t help smirking at this, knowing full well his cock already looked bigger semi-erect right now than it did fully hard before all this. He didn’t dwell on it too much though. After all, Darius was still in the room. Instead he just pulled up the new pair of briefs and joggers he’d been offered, loving how despite their huge size they still fit him perfectly. He did however decide to keep the t-shirt off for now. He wanted to savour this a little longer…

Meanwhile, as Vince marched over towards a mirror to admire himself further, Darius stood looking down at his own thin lanky body. He hadn’t been this skinny since he was a teenager. The last time he did a muscle transfer, the other guy already had a decent bit of muscle himself so the transfer wasn’t too crazy. But now? Lord knows how long it was gonna take him to put all that size back on. “Well… back to square one I guess.” He huffed, looking over at the rich white dude across the room who was now enjoying all his hard work. He couldn’t be mad. After all, he was getting an insane amount of money for this. But still. It just felt weird seeing and feeling himself like this.

The now miniature sized bodybuilder made his way over towards Vince who had now begun posing and flexing in the mirror, enamoured by his new reflection. To be expected after a transfer like this honestly. Even watching as he pulled down the joggers for a second to get a look at how juicy his new muscle ass was. Vince certainly wasn’t disappointed by the results.

“Hey man. Lookin pretty swole! You’re happy with the transfer then I take it?” Darius questioned, keeping a positive and warming attitude.

Vince turned to face Darius with a cocky smirk. “Oh you have no idea. It feels even better than I could’ve imagined. Happy would be an understatement!” He confirmed, flexing again. He also couldn’t help but relish in the fact that he was now the one looking down at Darius thanks to the height transfer. “Thank you Darius. I promise you I’ll take good care of all this.” He vowed before extending a hand out.

“You better. I certainly didn’t sculpt all that muscle so a rich white guy could waste it away.” Darius half-joked as he clasped the other man’s hand and shook it firmly.

As they shook Vince couldn’t help but grin inwardly. Darius still hadn’t noticed the extra dick transfer he got the staff the throw in. Not that it mattered if he did because soon enough he’d get the staff to erase any data logs on the dick size transfer from the machine's memory bank. By the time Darius realises what’s happened, he’ll have no way to prove it as all the staff in the room will be sworn to secrecy with Vince’s money. It was slightly evil, he knew that. But how could Vince pass up the chance to fuck and dominate dudes not only with all this muscle but with an even longer and fatter cock too! Besides, he needs bigger equipment to match his bigger body right??

The staff then took some time to go over a few details with the men. Listing possible side effects post transfer such as headaches and mild nausea for the first 24 hours while their bodies adjust and minds adjust to the change. Vince was hardly listening though, only focusing on how fucking jacked he was now. Once they were done with the formalities however, they said the pair of them were free to either leave or join the rest of the attendees at the buffet.

At last Vince slipped on his t-shirt, adoring how it clung desperately to his giant pecs while the sleeves struggled to hold his biceps. He made his way out to the buffet where some of the other winners were already being admired after their own transfers. There were a fair few others who’d buffed up considerably. Some seemed to have gotten younger with an age transfer no doubt. Some were fatter, some were thinner. Some had different faces and voices. And some looked the same as they did before, likely having taken nothing but intelligence or other mental traits.

The moment someone noticed Vince however, everyone stopped and looked. His transformation was the most insane of them all and it was no surprise considering who he’d won on the bid. Within moments the attendees and other winners alike came over to ask him how it felt and what it was like. All of them seemingly blown away by his transferral. Of course Vince revelled in the attention and it was now easier than ever to pick out the other gay men from the crowd by the way some of them gazed at him.

The rest of his evening was spent being admired and complimented on his new body. It gave Vince a sense of confidence and cockiness he’d never experienced before but he couldn’t deny how much he loved it. He was frequently asked to flex his biceps by the increasingly drunk attendees and some people had even asked him to pick them up off the ground to which he did with ease. He even learnt how to bounce his pecs, much to his and everyone else’s delight. One very drunk dude even made a comment about how he wanted to shove his face between Vince’s juicy pecs. A wish that Vince was happy to grant as he pulled the guy in for a hug and made sure to squish the dude's face between the two slabs of meat on his chest. After which Vince even gave the guy his number so they could maybe meet up another time when he wasn’t so drunk.

Eventually the night came to an end and everyone piled out of the event, eager to get home. On his drive home, Vince couldn’t help thinking about everything he was going to do now. Besides checking himself out every morning he was going to love the attention he was gonna get every time he walked into a room from now on. He was also going to have a ton of fun buying new clothes to fit his gigantic physique. Not to mention how empowering it was going to feel to be the biggest guy at the gym as he works to maintain all this size. And most of all he couldn’t wait to get some hot guys to worship all his muscle before he fucks their brains out. He already knew he’d be pounding the guy he gave his number to in the near future. Maybe he could even get ahold of some of the dudes from the auction who’d had some delicious upgrades.

Regardless Vince knew that he was gonna have the time of his life being this muscle beast of a man from now. He reached down and groped his now fully hard cock through his joggers, smiling as he felt a full 8 inches of thick man meat down there. Oh yeah he had A LOT of self worshiping to do when he got home.

[guybodyswaps]

~~Magic Muscles~~

[guybodyswaps]

My boyfriend's been getting so big and strong ever since he started listening to workout hypno tapes. Every day he puts the headphones on, and I watch his face bliss out as the hypnosis takes over his mind, clearing his thoughts, making him stupid and sexy and ready to work out.

"Fuck dude, I feel so good," he said to me this morning, stripping down after his workout. He'd just spent two hours working on his pecs and they were huge. "You gotta try this hypno sometime."

"Okay," I said. I was nervous when he started listening to them last month, but the results were amazing. "I ... I think I'm ready to try."

"Really?" he said, he face brightening! "Oh fuck, that's awesome dude. Hold on, I got the perfect one for you."

I clicked around on the computer for a minute, then put the wireless headphones on me. "Bro, I'm so excited you're giving this a try," he said.

I closed my eyes and listened. A voice echoed in my ears.

"Relax," it began. "Relax. You're drifting down, your mind growing dim. So calm, so empty, so comfortable, so good."

I felt a little dizzy. "Whoa," I said, "this is so weird..."

"Relax," said the voice in my ears, and I obeyed. I relaxed, I felt my body go limp, falling back into a chair. I felt my mind swim. I felt myself empty of all thoughts.

I drifted away, mindless, empty, so calm.

"Wake up." I heard my boyfriend's voice. Was that it? Was it over? How long was I out? It felt like hours.

I opened my eyes to see him standing over me, naked.

"What... happened, bro?" I asked. "Did I get hypnoed?"

He grinned. "You did, sexy," he reached down and rubbed my bare chest. I was naked too? How did that happen?

He leaned down to kiss me. "It worked so good," he said. "You're a fuckin gym bro like me now."

"No shit?" I laughed. "Dude, I feel kinda stupid. Like ... I can't remember nothing. Why's that feel so good?"

He rubbed my chest. "I dunno man. But wait until you start working out."

"Oh yeah," I said. The idea of working out never appealed to me before. But now just the mention of it got me hard. "Fuck! Can we lift some weights or something? I really wanna get pumped."

"Fuck yes," my boyfriend said, punching me happily in the chest. "Let's get you big and strong, dude. Both of us. Let's get stupid strong together."

Get more stories of transformation, power, and control: https://amzn.to/2zuzn1M

[guybodyswaps]

I’ve always been chill with the fact that my good friend Alex is gay, but I don’t know I’ve never really understood that whole lifestyle ya know? Either way, Alex is chill, pretty funny, and honestly rather straight-passing so we hang out pretty frequently. Recently, Alex told me about this new weed he scored from his cousin, all I need to say yes. He warned that it’s pretty strong and has “some interesting effects”? Whatever that means. I didn’t care, I was always down to smoke with my best bro.

Alex and you had been friends for years now. Through thick and thin. Break-ups, parties, deep conversations overnight, and triumphs on the field. He was a brother to you and you appreciated his company and friendship. So when he came out as gay, you couldn't give two shits. You'd even offered to be his wingman and showed him all the support you could. But there were certainly bumps. You'd talk about your most recent hook-ups with some chick and he'd try to talk about some guy he met on Grindr. Whether you intended to make it obvious or not, he was able to pick up on the subtle cues that you weren't exactly comfortable with the topic. Your promise to be his wingman? You left the gay bar barely thirty minutes after arriving. And the night he tried to explain bottoming... that was way too much for your heteronormative mindset to begin to want to understand. So as the months passed, you found that Alex wasn't really sharing all too much about his personal life. Part of you was relieved- you much rather preferred your straight-acting friend to be straight-acting. Another part felt that the closeness of your bond was irretrievably broken.

"Dude, I scored some weed from my cousin." You read over the text and grinned. Alex's cousin always scored the best shit, "You down to try? I should warn, it has some interesting effects. Hope you're not gonna pussy out."

Interesting effects? Pussy out? You had a few questions. What did he mean by interesting effects? And since when did Alex use language like "pussy out?" Maybe it had something to do with the interesting effects Alex mentioned? Lowered his inhibitions a bit? Expanded his vocab? You chuckle and pushed the thoughts aside- did it matter after all? You just wanted to hang out with your best bro.

"Count me in."

You quickly head over to his place, a feeling of excitement building in you. When you think about it, its been a bit since you've smoked together. Usually, you'd play videogames after and have some deep conversations about life. But as you drive to his place, something feels off. Alex didn't live on this side of town? Did he? And when you park outside a dingy apartment complex, more questions arise. Since when did he live next to a gym? Since when did he live here? The place looked rundown, yet you shake your head and chuckle to yourself. Alex always lived here- how could you forget? You quickly walk up the stairs and knock on his door.

"Come in, doors unlocked."

The booming voice on the other side of the door beckons you and you pause. That didn't sound like Alex. His voice was never that deep... that masculine... Again, you shake your head. No... no that was Alex. His voice was always like that- one that would turn heads, that commanded a room. That would echo when he'd win a match of Call of Duty. Yeah... that was Alex...

"Fuck yeah, bruh. Glad you made it."

You enter Alex's apartment and are immediately hit with the stench of days old gym clothes, overcooked ground beef, weed, and trash that really needed to be taken out.

"Bro... Alex, it reeks in here." You cough, "Wh..."

You want to ask him how this happened, what was happening, but your brain paused. Nothing's changed, duh. This was Alex's apartment as it always was. There was a TV, some work-out equipment, and a dirty mattress... no decorations, no desk with his office work- just as always, right? And on that mattress...

"Alex?"

"What's up, brah. Been a bit." He smirked, "So you wanna try this weed?"

Something was wrong. Something wasn't right. Alex... Alex was lean and toned after years of soccer and track. Well groomed- preppy if anything. And you were the taller one too. But the man sitting there? Buff, muscles bulging, at least 6'3". He scratched his itchy beard, revealing a pit filled with matted, musky pit fur. His grin was predatory- not warm or kind. And he looked you over closely like he was inspecting his prey. Part of you wanted to run... but another part... no... this was Alex as you've known him. The tension in your body diminishing as you reconcile the man in front of you as Alex.

"Yeah..."

Your brain feels a bit fuzzy and you walk over and sit. He grins as he hands you a blunt and watches closely as you bring it to your lips.

"Cousin got me that shit." He comments as he goes back to playing his game, "You know dude, I was worried about us." You look over at him and raise an eyebrow, "You've been distant. Felt like I came out and it was too much for you to handle."

"No, no it's not that." You cough as the weed tickles your lungs, "I just... look man, I totally support you and whatever makes you happy." You feel a tingle down your spine, "It's just..."

"No, I get it. You just don't understand." He throws his controller to the ground, and you can feel his frustration. Alex wasn't one to get emotional or angry... you shake your head. Right, Alex was always a bit of a hothead, "And that's okay. I didn't understand a lot of things either."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Your voice cracks and you cough to clear your throat.

"Well, I didn't understand why anyone would want to be a fuckin' top." He says, "I always loved to bottom, but fuck dude you have no idea what its like to have your dick buried in some twink." He smirks, "And its not just topping. It's the fuckin' lifestyle." He looks around his dingy, sparsely furnished apartment, "The smell, the simplicity... dude it's liberating."

You nod along, a wave of vertigo washing over you. Preventing you from being able to reply. You look down at your hands and the vertigo intensifies. Since when were they so dainty? So well manicured? You shake your head... no... this is right... right?

"I never really understand why guys wanted to get so swole." He flexes and looks over at you. His grin suddenly widens, "Fuck..."

"What? Is there something wrong with me?" Your voice is certainly an octave or two higher- breathy, seductive. You don't entirely register it.

"No, no you're perfect, babe."

Babe? You raise an eyebrow. But despite your confusion, the only thing that escapes your lips is a giggle and you feel your face flush red. Babe... you liked it when he called you that.

"You know..." You say, "I didn't understand a whole lot." You sigh and kick your feet, "Bottoming, being gay? I didn't understand it." You look over at Alex and feel your tiny nub start to chub up, "But when I look at you..." Your eyes roam his mountainous pecs, his beautiful abs, the predatory look in his eyes, "Well..." But it was also his musk, his carefree lifestyle, his commitment to getting swole, "Oh god..." As your eyes traveled south you see his bulge and you lick your puffy cocksucker lips.

"Yeah..." He paws at his bulge, "You know, I didn't understand why guys were obsessed with slutty twinks with thick asses either."

He moves closer to you and you shudder at the intensity of his gaze and the warmth radiating from his body. You look away, so flustered by the hungry look in your hook-up's eyes. But when you look down, you gasp. You were so thin, so soft. Your skin pale and free from blemishes. Not a remnant of body hair gracing your body. Worse yet, your dick was barely three inches hard.

"I don't... I don't like understand." You whimper in a voice that sounds foreign to your ears.

"No you didn't." Alex pins you to the bed, his sweat dripping onto your thin chest, "You didn't understand the gay lifestyle, you didn't understand bottoming." God he was so strong... so sexy... and his bulge... you could barely focus on anything else, "But this weed, it helps with that."

"You'll like totes help me understand?" He can see you eying his bulge, your eyes glazing over in an unabashed lust. A desperateness coming through... a need to make sense of all these feelings.

He doesn't say another word. He roughly kisses you along your neck, his beard tickling your skin. Your back arches and you moan- pleasure filling your body. You paw at his pecs, the meaty mounds in your grip wiping away any desire for tits. You reach around his muscular back, gripping it as your eyes role into the back of your head. You liked being dominant, hearing girls moan as you pleasured them. But now... your moans filled the air and you wanted to be dominated. And when he breaks away, you're breathing hard.

"Please..."

With his muscular arms, he flips you over with ease. You seemingly know what to do next. Your present your ass and you feel his rough hands squeeze your jiggly mounds of flesh. The pleasure radiating from his touch alone leaves you drooling, face down in his unwashed, musky mattress. And then without warning, he's inside you. Thrusting. Grunting. Sweating. And with each thrust you understand more and more. As your prostate is pleasured in ways you didn't know possible- you understood. As he calls you his slut, asks if you like taking his meaty cock- you understood. And when you are filled with his seed and left dripping and moaning- you understood.

There's no cuddling afterwards, no kisses. You clean up quick and saunter out. Your ass sore, your mind in shambles. The weed tickling your brain, rewiring more of your precious neurons, altering your reality. Helping you understand. Any resistance, any pleading from the real you, is systematically silenced. Permanently. You understand now- you are, always have been, and will always be a horny, slutty bottom. And you want this. The sound of another Grindr notification echoes from your phone. Your ass pulses with need. You understood what comes next.

___________________________

Hey everyone- have a little more time to work on stories so gonna try to catch up on some asks. Hope you enjoy!

[guybodyswaps]

Your expression in the mirror read as curious, but you knew the real emotion you were experiencing was terror. But you had an entirely new face, one so chiseled and handsome, you were going to look hot no matter what you felt.

You’d mis-dosed the “Jock Wash:” an impulse online purchase that had promised to improve muscle definition, bone structure, and hair growth, and unlock the dude-bro inside of you. Perhaps the mysterious body wash would endear you to the frat you were currently rushing. College was rough for misshapen guys like you.

But you’d accidentally ordered the concentrate, and after just one shower with the wash, you didn’t look like a jock so much as an exaggerated comic book character. Like many of the guys in your college, you were freshly 20, but now? Now you looked like a man in his early 30’s. Your physique was insane. You couldn’t stop feeling your muscles under your hands. Fuck, they were solid like rock, and your skin had a whole new rough texture to it.

One part of you was terrified about what people might say if you showed up to class tomorrow looking like… this. Another part of you was enamored with the hair perfectly dusting your body: a forest of pits, a dense happy trail, and rough tufts on your pillow pecs. Before that shower, you could never have dreamed of growing a beard like this, or maintaining it to this level.

The body wash had turned you into the perfect man, the realization of which sent your new cock to full mast. You were amazed to find your foreskin had grown back, and from the base of your bushy brown pubes sprouted a 9-inch uncut tool and a set of boulder balls ready to be emptied.

Which is exactly what you did, naturally. The load you spewed onto your bathroom counter that morning would be the first of many—that day, even. Little did you know that you were about to embark on an entirely new life. By this time next year, you’d be one of the biggest pornstars in the world (both in popularity and size).

Click the link and follow my Instagram for more short transformation captions!

[guybodyswaps]

Getting Into Character

Mikey stared contemplatively out of the bus window. He had moved to California to pursue his dream of acting, but what he found was not all he had dreamed of while back in his hometown.

It felt like this was his hundredth audition. He kept telling himself that all he needed was his foot in the door, but that was much easier to say than to do. His eyes glanced down to his phone, its cracked screen displaying the listing for the audition he would be due at in 15 minutes

Role: Hendrik-Weightlifter

We are looking for a young, physically able man to play the role of a weightlifter in our up and coming film. Must be comfortable in costume and work well with others, as this is a large period piece. Send an email to ***@********.com to apply

Mikey slouched back into his previous position giving a short sigh that fogged up the bus window.

He would never get the role.

It wasn't that he was weak or anything, but could he really sell himself to be a weightlifter? Still, he had to try. This could be his breakthrough to greater things. Soon Mikey was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed the stop.

The air conditioned waiting room was a soothing relief from the LA summer sun. Strange, Mikey thought. he was the only one there, save a middle aged woman sitting behind a desk, eyes focused on her computer. As Mikey made his way over to her, her eyes flashed towards him and she put on a polite smile.

'Am i in the right place for auditions fo.."

“Yes hun” she replied, cutting him off. Her voice was hard to place, maybe southern? Mikey didn't have an ear for accents

“You're Michael Harknet yes?”

“yeah thats me” He replied, smiling awkwardly

“Good, good,” the woman typed something into her computer.

“Now hun, just go sit down over there." she pointed to a row of chairs at the side of the room, next to a water cooler "aaaand, take this.” She opened a draw and picked out a small see-through packet of brown powder.

“The director told me to give this to you, its a protein powder thought you should try before your audition begins”

Mike paused. He had never had anything he needed to drink for audition before. Yet, he thought, by the looks of it the had already a pretty good chance of getting the role, and putting that into jeopardy could mean returning home empty handed. He decided against declining

He thanked the woman and took the baggie. It was small enough to fit inside his palm, clearly only having enough powder for one glass. He got some water from the cooler and poured the powder in watching as it quickly dissolved into the liquid, turning it a muddy brown colour. Mikey looked down now, suddenly wary of the substance. You need this role, a voice whispered in his brain. Its all you ever wanted.

Mikey took a deep breath and chugged the whole glass, leaving a dark smudge on his upper lip.

The grainy taste of protein powder chocolate lingered in his mouth, making Mikey feel a bit queasy, and his upper lip was beginning to get itchy. It was all his nerves, He need to calm down. He stood up from his seat and strode over to the desk. The receptionist already knew what he was going to ask

“Restroom's Just over there, down the hall to your left, hun” she gave another smile

He thanked her and made his way over.

I just need a splash of water to wake me up, he told himself. this is all just nerves. However, when he saw himself in the mirror, that was all forgotten

Since when did he have a mustache, especially a big bristly one like that? Hadn't he just shaved this morning? He reached up to it, feeling to see if the scratchy thick hairs were really there. With a sharp tug, he pulled one out, sharp pain piercing across his face. Yep, he was definitely not dreaming.

Weird to say, Mikey thought he looked good with it. He grinned at himself, admiring his mature look, all the while more hair was gradually growing out of his chin, forming a scratchy 5 o'clock shadow.

As he admired his mature face, the rest of his body was changing. His thighs and calves grew thicker powerful muscle breaking through his pants. His feet were also rapidly growing, widening so much they too his clothes, leaving the casual sport shoes he had worn in tatters His pants entirely fell apart when Mikey's unremarkable ass filled outwards, turning it into a bouncy, hairy muscle butt that broke through the stretchy fabric of his underpants.

Finally hearing the ripping of his undies, Mikey looked away from his face to notice what was happening to his body. He could feel the mounting pressure as his chest expanded outwards, squishy pecs sending the buttons of his dress shirt flying. The Adonis in the mirrors smirked playfully flexing his fat muscle tits. Mikey grinned as he felt his arms fill out, biceps becoming two huge chunks of muscle.

The sight of his body metamorphosing into a cocky muscled hunk was turning Mikey on. His average cock began to stiffen, growing only harder as hands explored the new crevasses and bulges across Mikey's new body. They drifted down from his biceps, feeling the smooth softness and squish of his pecs before a curious flex made them into granite boulders. They traced through his new abs, before moving down to cup his bouncy, perfect bubble butt. A finger involuntarily crept into his tight pink hole, sending a torrent of pressure across his body.

Soon he was sitting in the corner, all other thoughts inconsequential but the feeling of his hands exploring his new body, of his hands massaging his prostate and grapefruit sized balls, of his hands running along his firm, warm, dripping wet cock. Muscle memory took over and he was soon stroking it. With each tug and push it grew longer and longer. Mikey soon had both of his hands working up and down his fat pink python of a cock. With each pump, an itchiness spread across his bod, as hair growing wildly across him. His facial structure rearranged, jaw sharpening as the octave of his moans became a deeper and deeper. These moans soon reached a crescendo, the feeling of release leaving him overwhealmed as his monster cock sprayed hot, runny seed across his chest, onto his face and even upon the wall behind him. Mikey grinned cockily, admiring his work before standing up to begin cleaning himself up. Looking back in the mirror, he saw it now: he was perfect for the role.

Musk wafted from his exposed armpits. This was the smell of a real man, he thought. This was the smell that Hendrik would give off after a long day of training, and it was time to get into character. Memories of acting flooded into his brain, of starting in porn before finally making it into the big leagues in his Thirties. His accent changed as well, becoming nothing but true blue American. The new Mike pushed open the bathroom door, confidently striding in nothing by a tight pair of spandex undies. Hendrik never covered himself, he had been told, choosing to display his perfect body to the world. He walked back up to reception, seeing a tall man in a suit that could now recognize as the director standing next to the desk. The director looked Mikey down and up, admiring his work.

“Shooting begins Monday” was all he said to the sweaty muscled beast before him, before walking briskly away.

[guybodyswaps]

New reality part 1

In the high-tech laboratories of the Duval pharmaceutical group, excitement was in the air. After months of research, Philippe, a talented young scientist, had just developed a first prototype of a drug designed to enhance athletic performance. Curious about the results, the CEO himself, Mr. Duval, came down to discuss it with him.

- Well, Philippe, how is that famous sample coming along? Are the initial results living up to our expectations?”

- Yes, Mr. Duval. The formula looks very promising. Preliminary tests show a significant improvement in endurance and muscle strength. So far, no major side effects have been observed.”

- Excellent work. Keep going. This product could truly revolutionize our industry… and our market share.”

In the quiet of the lab, Philippe continued his trials. Focused, he carefully analyzed the red solution he had just synthesized. The goal was clear: to stabilize the formula and create a solid version, easier to use and more effective. But for now, the product remained too unstable. Philippe stayed cautious: he still didn’t know what side effects might occur.

While handling the sample, Philippe accidentally dropped it. The flask shattered on the table. Within seconds, the liquid reacted violently with the air, turning into a thick cloud of red smoke. Panicked, Philippe stumbled backward, horrified by what was unfolding before him.

Within seconds, the entire laboratory was engulfed in a dense red fog. The air became heavy, saturated with a strange scent — a mix of locker room sweat and gym odor. Philippe, frozen in panic, tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Suddenly, a violent pain struck Philippe’s stomach, as though his intestines were being crushed from the inside. The acrid, nauseating smell grew unbearable. Clutching his abdomen, he had no idea what was happening to him.

The pain became unbearable. Bent double, Philippe suddenly felt a thick red smoke burst from his mouth. In a panic, he couldn’t grasp what was happening. Memories came flooding back: a childhood marked by loneliness, teased by classmates for his shyness, distant parents who didn’t understand him. A brilliant student, he had found refuge in his studies, eventually being recruited by the Duval pharmaceutical group. But in his personal life, Philippe had remained a loner — few friends, one short-lived relationship… Even now, he never quite knew how to connect with others.

The memories kept shifting… something was changing. New images began replacing the old ones: yes, he had been a lonely child, but during adolescence, he had chosen to turn that loneliness into strength. He had started bodybuilding, seeking acceptance — from others and from himself. He could no longer stand the sight of his weak, frail body in the mirror. Though no longer top of his class, he had graduated and been recruited by Duval.

As these new memories rewrote his story, a new reality took hold: his body was transforming, muscles growing, his shape evolving. Philippe, confused, could no longer tell what was real and what was not.

Philippe’s memories — and reality — kept shifting. He now remembered always having been intelligent and popular. Arrogant and vain, he had embraced bodybuilding to sculpt the perfect physique — one he admired in other men, as women had never interested him.

His grades, though average despite his high IQ, had never mattered much next to his passion for sport. He had pursued a career in research to develop products that would push the body’s limits. The Duval group had hired him not for his grades, but for his charisma and ambition.

As these memories took root, his body kept changing: his muscles swelled, every fiber reshaped, reinforcing this new version of himself. Philippe could no longer tell what was real and what was imagined.

Philippe’s reality kept rewriting itself. He had never been particularly bright — academics were never for him. Sport was his world. Arrogant, self-absorbed, he had built a dream body, overflowing with testosterone. Proud of his sexuality, he was 100% gay and obsessed with the perfect, muscular male form.

One day, determined to create his own line of energy drinks for athletes, he had ended up in the Duval group’s laboratories. Now, as his body continued to transform, his clothes changed too, morphing into tight gym wear — the perfect reflection of who he truly was.

The transformation was complete. Now, it was as if the old Philippe had never existed. Only this new reality remained: a confident man, proud of his sculpted physique. He loved showing off his muscles — every pose a display of power and masculinity.

To be continued…