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dumbroski · 7 months ago

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The trip to the beach.

A collaboration with @misctf .

Steve was the most cliché of the word "nerd" with only 5'4 tall, with pimples and with irritating little voice he was the target for the jock boys in his university. But despite being victim of sneers and bullying, he was the happiest student in college, he always smiled, helped people and was quite studious. So the mockery towards him mattered little to him. Today was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Steve was studying hard in his room, he didn't have any plans for today and he didn't care to have one either, his parents were not home so he enjoyed being alone quietly until someone knocked on his house door.

"Who could it be?" Steve sighed, “I’m really behind on my work.” He looked at the essay he was in the midst of completing, “I should...” The second knock was louder, “Must be important.”

Steve quickly made his way to the front door. As he went to open it, he paused. He could hear the boisterous laughter from the other side, the frequent use of the word ‘bro’, and a few belches. His stomach dropped.

“What could they possibly want?” Steve thought miserably, “I should really...” He sighed. It wasn’t in his nature to just ignore someone. What if they needed help?

“Oh shit! Look who it is! What’s up lil’ bro?” Garrett laughed, emphasizing the word ‘lil’. He put his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging.

“Uh hey.” Steve stammered, “Uhm, I...I...” His mind was racing, trying not to stare. Garrett was rather good-looking- dark hair and eyes, his chiseled face framed by a well-groomed, short beard. And looking further down, it was obvious that his years on the baseball team did wonders for his body- all of which was framed nicely in his tight tank-top, “Sorry, just studying today.” Steve blushed, mentally admonishing himself for making it so obvious that he had a thing for the star pitches on the team.

"Studying?! Lil’ dude, come on.” Garrett groaned, nudging one of the other jocks, “Seriously dude, how lame. How about this? We came here to invite you to the beach.” He placed his firm rugged hand on Steve’s shoulder and grinned, “Lil’ dude, it’s gonna be fuckin’ lit. Cheerleaders, booze, you name it. When’s the last time you did something like that, huh lil’ dude?”

Hearing this, Steve raised an eyebrow. None of these things were as appealing to him as Garrett likely thought they’d be. Although, the naively optimistic part of Steve wanted to imagine this could be the start of a friendship with Garrett. Part of him yearning for closeness with the jock. But Steve shook his head before adjusting his glasses- on what planet would he ever be friends with Garrett?

"I don't want to be rude or offensive, but why are you inviting me?” Steve questioned, “Jake and Logan were just bullying me the other day.” The two jocks behind Garrett snickered, earning them a disapproving look from Garrett.

"I know... Dude, but believe me we want to make peace, me and my bros promise we won't make fun of you again!” Garrett replied, no hint of insincerity in his tone, “Besides, it's Saturday and being at home? It's boring as hell."

Steve sighed, mulling over the offer. Would it be nice not to be bullied by these meatheads? Yeah. Would it be nice to spend time with Garrett? Yeah. Did he really think they’d make peace after this? Steve sighed again- the rational part of him saying to shut the door. The other saying to give these bros a chance.

"Okay, okay... I’ll go.” Steve said, the uncertainty of his choice evident in his voice.

“Oh sick lil’ bruh, but like, don’t sound too disappointed.” Garrett laughed, slapping him on the back and knocking the wind out of his small frame.

“But really, I’m doing this to make peace.” Steve insisted, “No funny business.” He tried to sound confident and stern. Garrett smiled and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, “Oh and..." Steve bit his lip, “This is so embarrassing but it’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach. I don’t really have any appropriate swimwear.”

"That shouldn't worry you bro! Give me a second." Garret grinned, “You’re just in luck, lil’ dude.” Garrett seemed way too excited, “Check out these!” His bro reached into a bag and handed him some green shorts with a bit of blue and gave them to Steve. "Here! These shorts belonged to one of our bros. Well former bro. He went on to bigger and better things.” Garrett sighed, “Internship or some shit. Brains and brawn, can you believe it?” The other jocks snickered.

Steve looked at the shorts and made a face of disgust. Did Garrett and his bros really think he would wear someone else’s shorts? Why did they seem to have them ready too? Steve awkwardly grabbed the shorts, and looked back over at the group of jocks.

"Garrett... I uh." Steve could see the look of excitement in Garrett’s eyes. Like he was proud of something, “I don’t really feel comfortable wearing another guy’s shorts. And besides, these aren’t going to fit me."

“And why not, lil bro? I wear my bro’s stuff all the time.” Garrett grinned, “I understand that you don't have the same muscle mass as us, but they’re shorts, shorts look good on everyone."

"Yes... but..." Steve sighed- how was he going to make these oafs understand his discomfort when they clearly had no shame?

"Dude, just get changed. We’ll wait here for you." Garrett grinned, “Come on bros, I’ll get the car started. I got a bomb playlist.”

Steve watched as they walked back to their car, all chuckling and talking about their beach plans. And before long, loud obnoxious music filled the air. Steve cringed, worrying what his neighbors might think of the loud music.

“The faster I get this on, the faster we get out of here.” Steve figured, walking back to his room.

Once there, he quickly undressed and examined himself in the mirror. He frowned as he examined his short and lanky frame- his skin pale from the hours spent indoors studying. His brown hair a curly mess atop his head. Nothing compared to the healthy tans and meaty muscles Garrett and his bros sported. Steve shook his head, ignoring these negative thoughts. Instead, he turned his attention to the pair of shorts in his hand.

"This is so disgusting...” Steve mumbled, taking a whiff of them, “Oh god, did they even wash this?” Steve was instantly teleported back to his high school locker room- the smell wafting from these shorts an unpleasant reminder of his days in gym class, “What have I gotten myself into?”

He grimaced as he slowly pulled the shorts up his skinny legs, where they rested over his Marvel boxer briefs. Yet despite his initial disgust, he was surprised to see how well they fit. He figured he owed Garrett some credit- shorts do look good on anyone. Steve walked over to his closet, rummaging around until he found on of his old discarded tank-tops. After placing that over his skinny frame, he smiled.

“Okay, I kind of look the part.” He commented, flexing his skinny arm, “Almost.” He laughed, thinking how ridiculous he must’ve looked.

And as he turned away from the mirror, he felt a wave of vertigo wash over him. He stumbled forward, catching himself against a wall. Steve groaned and wiped some sweat from his forehead, trying to make sense of the sudden dizziness. But as quickly as it had come on, it had passed. And Steve awkwardly walked to the front door, each step feeling somewhat heavier and requiring more focus.

“Oh lil’ dude, you look great!” Garrett said, approaching him, “You’re more than ready for the beach.” He raised an eyebrow, “Ah wait, lil’ dude you forgot your shoes. Logan! Grab ‘em a pair from the trunk.”

Steve only nodded, not really paying all that much attention. His mind felt foggy, his body heavier. When Logan threw the pair of worn-out sandals at his feet, Steve just slid them on. They were clearly too large for him, but he didn’t have the mental bandwidth to make a comment.

“Lookin’ good on ya!” Garrett grinned, putting an arm around Steve’s shoulder and leading him to the car, “God, you reek, lil’ dude.”

Steve shook his head, “No... it’s... it’s the shorts.” He replied, “They smell...”

“Sure, sure lil’ dude.” Garrett chuckled.

Steve wanted to say something in response, but he felt a slight achiness in his feet. And when he looked down, he could have sworn that they looked bigger and now sporting tufts of hair. In that moment, Steve could’ve also sworn that his nostrils were being invaded by an increasingly intense odor- reminiscent of the locker room but somehow worse. Sour and musky, all at once.

“Alrighty lil’ dude, get in.” Garrett said, "Let's go!"

Steve could barely focus. The smells, the boisterous laughter, and the blaring laughter from the bros around him. He grimaced as a can of beer rolled around in the backseat, hitting his foot. He watched as Logan reached down and smirked, before shot gunning the can of beer while his bros cheered.

“Lil’ bro, why don’t you try one?” Garrett asked from the driver’s seat, “Pregame for me, since I’m drivin’ and shit.”

“I’m good.” Steve replied, clearing his throat. His voice sounded off, “I’m not feeling too...”

A beer was thrust against his skinny chest and he looked over at Logan, who had a wide grin on his face. Steve held the beer, staring at it closely. And with his meatier hands, cracked it open. Steve never drank- it wasn’t his thing. But as he cracked open the can, he felt compelled. He was gonna chug it. And as the bros cheered him on, Steve did just that. As he did, he couldn’t possibly realize the bulge in his shorts was growing. His member growing in size, going from a measly 5 centimeters to an astonishing 14 centimeters, a dense forest of pubes sprouting around his new member.

“Buuuuuuuurrrrrppppppppp.” Steve grinned slightly as he crushed the can in his hand as his bros cheered, “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Fuck yeah lil’ dude!” Garrett cheered from the front.

“That was sick bruh!” Logan playfully punched Steve’s arm.

Steve looked down at where Logan punched him and his eyes widened. His arms... his skinny arms... they looked bigger? More defined. Muscles Steve knew he had but never saw were suddenly becoming quite obvious to the naked eye. He looked up at Logan and then up to Garrett.

“Hey somethin’s...” Steve froze. That baritone voice couldn’t possibly be...

But no one paid him any attention. They were going on about the cheerleaders, although Steve noticed Garrett was oddly quiet during the conversation. Occasionally glancing at Steve through the mirror. Steve stirred uncomfortably as Garrett stole glances at him. Why did he keep looking at him? He blushed slightly, trying to appear smaller, but his growing pecs and widening frame made that difficult. He was taking up more space now, becoming uncomfortably close to Logan.

“Dude, can you...”

“Not my fault this car’s so fuckin’ small.” Steve’s eyes widened. He would never talk like that, “What the fuck?” The fogginess in his mind was starting to dissipate. He was becoming acutely aware of his newly massive frame, enlarging pecs, and arms that looked more like tree-trunks than sticks.

Garrett turned to look at him and smiled. "What's wrong bro? You look good.”

“I... don’t... fuckin’...” Steve groaned as his tank-top ripped and he tossed the ruined fabric into the trunk.

He grunted as his muscles pulsed again and again. His frame expanding larger and larger, while Logan just grinned, despite losing more room in the back of the car. Steve gasped as small blond hairs erupted from his massive arms and traveled up. And when they finished coating his massive forearms, the hair in his pits exploded into a dense, musky forest. He grimaced at the smell wafting from them, yet at time went on, the smell was becoming familiar. Somewhat nice actually. He brought his hands to his head as his head started pounding. And in the car’s mirror, he saw that his hair was becoming blond. His curly locks reshaping into a sporty cut. His face becoming sharp and defined, his lips puffing up and forming into a permanent smirk.

“Eric, bruh, you good?” Garrett asked.

Steve let out a baritone groan, “Nah bruh, who the fuck’s Eric?” He grabbed his head again, “That’s... not... my... name...”

As he made eye contact with Garrett, he could feel it. A set of memories. Gym sessions with Garrett. Going to sporting events. Playing videogames. Waking up in each other’s arms... tearing each other’s clothes off... fucking... Steve realized in that moment. Garrett and Eric. They were more than frat bros... they were... A small smile formed on Steve’s lips as he felt Eric’s personality and mind overtake his. And in that moment, he came. The climax so intense that he passed out in the back seat.

“Took him long enough.” Logan chuckled, “You happy Garrett?”

Garrett nodded and parked the car, “Alright bros, give him some time to rest.” Garrett smiled at his sleeping boyfriend, “I’ll be right behind you all.”

As his bros started walking to the beach, Garrett opened backseat door and smiled at his hunk of a boyfriend. He ran a hand down his jaw and gave him a quick kiss, before grabbing his cum-soaked shorts.

“Was hoping you’d save that for me.” Garrett smirked, “But all good, bruh.” He kissed him on the cheek, before quietly shutting the door. He’d let Eric get some rest- besides, they had a long night ahead of them.

#male tf #personality change #reality change #jock tf #nerd to jock #male transformation #frat boy tf #musclegrowth #dumber tf #musk

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entonymwrites · 1 month ago

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Himbo Dreams

Nick was trying to get some sleep. He had been lying on his bed, clad only in briefs, focusing on the spinning ceiling fan as if trying to lull himself into deep slumber. Nick thought he would finally join a club, go to parties, maybe even fool around with some boys. But college was just lecture after lecture, his overactive imagination already stressing about tomorrow's seminar. Goddamn. He needed to calm his mind, trying to focus on something else - that is, hot jocks.

Tall, beefy, muscular men had popped up in his brain like fleeting mirages. Somehow, Nick had ended up in a college that was a giant in every sport imaginable. From sun-kissed boys in the swimming club, to the brawny brutes of the football club. Of course, he could only watch, not do. Next to the pinnacles of fitness, Nick was just a regular unassuming guy. In a campus full of jocks he was short at 5'5", and though he worked out on occasion, his body didn't show anything impressive. The only interactions he got were accidental shoves from people walking past.

Still, an occasional glance at the hunks in his class or at the soccer team out the window helped get him through the day. He noted how each of the sport teams had their own sexy characteristics:

Down by the pool, the swimmers were lean and tanned to perfection, dripping water highlighted the grooves of their abs, carving straight to their cum gutters; brought out perfectly by tight speedos that left little to the imagination, showing off juicy curves and asses.

Full of testosterone and ego, the quarterbacks were huge. Larger than life in body and demeanor, always rowdy and loud in the field. Drawing attention with their boulder shoulders, accentuated by their shoulder pads; and tight pants that showed their meaty behinds. Unlike the smooth shaven boys in the water, the footballers were hairy and musky, pits and pubes full of sweat that could drive you crazy.

The soccer team were the complete definition of hunks, they loved to strip down on the field, showing their carved torsos in glory; the basketball players were tall and packing heat, black shorts only highlighted their lengthy members, and their stamina on the court wasn't just for show according to some rumors.

Nick could go on and on about every fantasy in his mind, hoping one of the jocks would magically ask him out, allowing him to feel up their bodies. Or even better, if he could be them. To be that muscular and commanding jock, sauntering into a room bulge first, popping his pecs in class, having a flex off with his like-minded bros. Although it was just a pipedream, it permeated his mind over and over, usually ending with him grumbling to himself and sighing deeply.

Out of all the stereotypical jocks, there was one he loved the most, the perfect combination appearing in every sport, and the final hot image in his brain - a frat bro.

Dumb, muscular, horny, hung, himbos, every descriptor activated the right neuron in his brain. These words were on constant repeat in Nick's mind, remembering them as he drifted into horny dreams, carrying those words with a wish. But tonight, someone heard it. And soon enough, static and fuzz crept into Nick's brain, compelling him into deep sleep.

Something whispered from the dark. Granted.

A small hum of energy blew in the air, as the bed began to creak, not from Nick's tossing and turning but from an increase of weight. With a sudden pop, his legs started to rapidly stretch, causing them to hang off the bed. His torso and limbs followed along, elongating in a deep stretch and pop that elicited a groan from the sleeping Nick.

Tall. Basketball player height.

5'5" became 6" that further lengthened into 6'4", leaving him as tall as most of the basketball team. Damn, he might have to duck under some doorways every now and then. The stretch continued, perfectly proportioning his limbs, as his neck and arms grew to fit. Meanwhile, a surge of energy focused on turning his average feet and hands into gargantuan monsters. His size 7 feet became meaty size 16s, toes becoming wider; they would make an audible stomp everywhere he went now, along with an unmistakable sweaty imprint. He remembered his bros complaining about the loud stomping in the frat house. Heh. He couldn't help it, they were just marks of a man. His fingers followed, popping longer and thicker to become meaty digits. They were better suited for gripping dumbbells and protein shakes, rather than any pens or keyboards for class. Not like he used them often. English and Arts? Nah, he was only there for sports, Athletic Science or some shit, with grades at the bare minimum.

Hunk. Toned Soccer Player. Nick's body began to lean out, the frustrating belly fat that had stayed through countless 15 minute core workouts dissolved into rock hard abs. Each individual ab popped into a perfect six-pack, carving and embedding themselves into his core. His waist cinched tight as his cum gutters became visible, allowing any drops of sweat to slide and accentuate his toned and tiny waist.

But it didn't stop there. Muscular. Football team large. A warmth spread up from his feet, which made his calves swell into massive diamond shapes. His thighs piled on muscle after muscle, causing his legs to spread apart, threatening to spill off the bed. A mixture of pain and pleasure washed over Nick. Memories of brutal leg presses and squats injected themselves straight into the fibers of his massive columns. After all, bros never skipped leg day, that was how they got their signature lumbering walk. His once average ass - not wanting to lose the fight - fattened into massive globes that lifted him higher into the air, soaking his sheets with sweat. Nick’s upgraded bubble butt was huge and round, each cheek constantly bouncy and jiggly, especially when riding his frat bros. In response, Nick started gyrating on the bed as new memories flowed into him -nights of being fucked and used - the sensation sending tingles down his spine, as his hole tightened to be used for maximum pleasure. Nick's audible groans became louder as the energy surged through his chest, ballooning into mounds of firm pecs that would show through any shirt he tried on. They swelled out into hefty milkers, his nipples stretching just a little wider, big enough for his bros to play with. His shoulders followed, doubling in width as they grew along with his broad back, connecting with his traps. Giving him that strong structured look. Biceps and triceps exploded with muscle, defined by a juicy vein that ran up from his steel forearms. When flexed, they would tear sleeves to their breaking point, but it didn't matter, his wardrobe was stock full with singlets and tank tops, just like any other bro.

Smooth and hairy in all the right places.

A tingle swept over his entire body, as his old pitiful wisps of leg hair fell out and disappeared into the ether, giving him smooth and soft skin. Instead, all the hair went into his pits and pubes, fluffing them up into musk-filled bushes, hairy and dark. They would peek out in his singlets and jockstraps, enticing everyone to sniff or lick. His hair grew to a messy mop that would be paired with beanies and baseball caps. Dumb and Handsome. With a crack, Nick's face began to rearrange to model status, making him attractive while permanently affixing him with a dopey grin. His nose thickened to breathe in more musk from bushy armpits, sometimes even his own. His lips fattened; sloppy and wet for passionate kisses or blowjobs for his bros. Panting like a dog, his tongue lolled out, wide and long, a pleasure tool on its own. Eyes became clear, removing any need for glasses but also becoming vacant, an open window to the constant horniness and empty thoughts in his head. And the final pop of his enlarged Adam's apple gave him that stereotypical bro cadence. His deep and dull voice had two purposes, dumb moans in the bed and rough grunts in the gym. Hung like a horse. Heavy bull nuts. Groans and pants filled the air with heavy breaths as the warmth spread to his most sensitive area. His cock and balls. Nick's average 5 incher rose to a sizable 9 inches, barely fitting into his white briefs, its uncut head leaking pre everywhere, almost turning the fabric translucent. Still, it kept growing. 10 inches... 11 inches... Harder, thicker, longer, into a fat meaty pole that shot out of his briefs with a satisfying pop, landing with a wet smack on his abs. Now uncontained, his 12 inch monster cock was a weapon of its own, when not being bred, Nick ravaged the bedroom with his footlong size. Thick veins ran up his erect dick, overflowing with cum from his pumped up nuts. His balls had swelled along with his hefty member, dropping from regular to swinging, heavy, animal nuts. Finding underwear would be impossible for the new himbo, remembering his package bursting through buttons and briefs in the past. Luckily, jockstraps could barely contain the beast, and the tight fabric behind settled perfectly in between his cheeks, pulled taut to tease his hole throughout the day. His balls were now cum factories, capable of going endlessly in a night, churning to the brim with frat bro seed. With one final swell and thrust, Nick erupted in a loud grunt, tensing his entire body as his cock quivered with pressure, balls tightening for release. A force in the air blew, and with the gentle gust of wind caressing his cock, he exploded with mind-breaking pleasure. Spurts of cum flew out, almost reaching the ceiling, as Nick bucked his hips in mindless pleasure. Each load caused deep and heavy moans to reverberate on his bedroom walls, his thick and smelly cum landing on every surface. He continued his musky assault on his surroundings, bucking his cock in the air like fucking an invisible hole. After painting the room white in cum, and staining the air with sweat, Nick let out a rich sigh, his sleeping face dumb and exhausted. His wet dreams were fulfilled. In a sudden, it whispered. Wake up.

Nick groaned, his body was on fire. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed himself so hard at yesterday's full body workout, but he knew the pump was well worth it. He stared blankly at the empty ceiling, strange, he could have sworn he had a fan up there. Maybe that's why he was so goddamn sweaty. Nick pulled himself out of bed, making a goofy grin at his still hard cock, twitching and ready for countless rounds. His sheets were always stained with a mixture of sweat and cum, making the room reek with musk. Last night must have been super wild, he'd always get extra wet dreams if he didn't jerk off before bed, but fuck there was even cum on the floor today, though he was unable to remember what the dream was. It didn't matter though, all it took was a second for his doubt to fade away. He'd clean up the mess later, or ask a bro to do it. Heavy footsteps paved their way to the shower, an audible signal of the dumb himbo. His horsecock dripped precum all over the floor, making a light slapping sound against his thunderous thighs. After a quick rinse to get rid of the excess sweat and cum, Nick stared hungrily at his own reflection. His towel draped at just the right angle to reveal his shredded torso and give a peek of his gorgeous v-line.

Fuck, he was hot. His model face and beefy body greeted him in the morning, along with his throbbing monster cock. Nghhh. He groaned, bull balls slapping against the white sink, he almost fucked the countertop in desperation. However, it stopped him, giving three basic words that completed his transformation. Lift. Eat. Fuck. Freshly imprinted into his brain, Nick let out a long guttural moan as the command settled into his every cell. "Huhuhu." A dumb laugh followed, and like a robot, Nick was steered by the hypnotizing call. Fuck it, he would go commando today, He threw on a white tank top and black sweatpants, ones that hugged his body tight for everyone's viewing pleasure; making sure to add a gray beanie and a chain necklace that screamed douchey bro to the world. Taking a quick snap in the elevator, the new Nick cemented himself as a forever dumb, muscular himbo. With another wish granted, it murmured. Good Himbo.

*you've made it to the end! finally wrote a tf story after lurking for so long, gotta start with one of my favorite tropes, the himboooo. but wait! who was that mysterious force? maybe we'll find out one day ^^, or you could find out if you magically wake up as a himbo ;)*

#male muscle growth #male transformation #nerd to jock #himbofication #reality change #tf #dumbing down #jockification #mental change #entonym

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soul-controller · 2 months ago

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The Do-Over

This is one of my favorite stories that I've done, so much so that I've been considering bringing this idea back and turning it into a series for Patreon. I hope you enjoy!

As Arthur Saunders peered down towards his kitchen counter, the newly-minted 29-year-old scratched his head as he attempted to understand what he was looking at. It was earlier in the day when he first encountered the medium-sized box as he accidentally kicked it upon exiting his apartment. Despite his own curiosity about the box given the fact that there was no label or return address listed, the man had several birthday-related errands to run and was forced to quickly place the box inside before leaving for the majority of the day.

So despite his slight tiredness upon returning back to his apartment after a lively day of various celebrations with friends and family, Arthur’s mind began to continuously ponder not only what was inside the box but who had sent it. Based on the lack of postage or a shipping label, it was clear that someone had physically dropped the package off on his doorstep. But who would do that and not even knock on the door or attempt to speak with the man?

Although Arthur believed his curiosity was already at its peak, he soon realized that this was not true as he cut open the box and pulled back the cardboard flaps. Sitting in the box was a huge red button with the words “DO-OVER” painted white on the top, which instantly puzzled the young man. Although he assumed the button was all that was inside the box given the slew of packing peanuts that filled most of the box, Arthur gripped onto the button and found that a full contraption was unearthed upon lifting it up and out of the box.

As he set it down on the kitchen counter, Arthur spent a few minutes observing the bizarre item. Although the bright red button was a prominent feature, it was connected to a jet black base that was rounded and nearly double the size of the large button. On the base itself, Arthur discovered two large rectangular LED screens that sat both above and below the large button. Although he could tell that they were meant to display some sort of text or visual, the dull haze of the screen revealed that there was no power to the contraction… at least not yet.

Intrigued about what exactly the device did, Arthur found himself lifting it up and inspecting it in search of a power button. But alas, no such discovery was found by the man, which caused him to set the item down and direct his focus towards the huge box. In hopes of finding some sort of instructions, the man plunged his hand deep into the sea of packing peanuts and aimlessly felt around.

Eventually, the man was able to pick up on the slip of paper that was included in the box and fished it out. Upon grabbing it and holding it out in front of him, the curious man narrowed his eyes as he hoped the paper would provide some much needed explanations.

Dear User, Congratulations on being selected to test out the brand new Do-Over Program. Upon being submitted by an acquaintance of yours, our company has been slowly observing you and your actions for the past few months. Upon noticing your general feelings of stagnation and confusion over your life, we’ve deemed you to be a perfect fit for the program. The device you’ve been provided will allow you the opportunity to do-over your life, which will cause every aspect of your personality to be randomized in hopes of providing you an entirely new and positive outlook towards life. Although such a concept may seem scary, please know that none of these changes are permanent (as long as you don’t wish for them to be). With the perks of being chosen for this program though, our only ask is that for our own research that you wait at least 24 hours before attempting another do-over. In regards to completing the program, there are two possible options. Firstly, you can continue to explore and test out various different lives and identities until you find one that seems perfect to you. Upon doing so, you can then lock the new identity in, which will cause the device to be retrieved and sent to the next participant in the program. If you do not accept any of the new lives created by the program, there is also another option that will return you to your original life. With this option though, we only recommend it if you have discovered that the entire process has caused you to have a renewed interest and sense of determination of how to move forward. If you choose this option, please contact S-C Enterprises via the provided information and we will send an employee to retrieve the device. Regardless of the end result you choose, we hope you have an enjoyable experience as a part of our program. Sincerely, The Do-Over Team

Upon finishing reading the note and setting the piece of paper onto the kitchen countertop, Arthur found that he now had more questions than he had answers. Who had submitted him to this program, and what did the company mean by saying they’ve been observing him for months? Surely they weren’t actually watching him and observing his online behaviors, right?

Despite being significantly unnerved by the contents of the note, Arthur couldn’t deny that his curiosity was piqued by the reveal of what the contraption sitting on his counter was capable of. The premise sounded like something straight out of a science fiction 80s film, but it felt surprisingly pertinent to him.

Although he hated to give props to a group that was apparently stalking him both in person and virtually, it was true that Arthur wasn’t quite happy with the cards he had been dealt with in life. When he first decided to go to university, the concept of being a teacher and helping mold young minds seemed like a rewarding career path. But after several years of actually being a teacher in a posh all-male school, the dull monotony of lessons along with the disrespect from both his students and fellow faculty members left him feeling like a husk of himself. With the constant influx of assignments to mark along with having to create lesson plans, Arthur found that even his own free time in his flat was devoted to his career… which only made him loathe it further.

To make matters worse, the realization that he was now only one year from reaching his 30s left the teacher feeling quite depressed and anxious. Although he knew that he personally loathed his current career choice, the crushing reality of his ever-increasing age meant that it was becoming incredibly unlikely for a last minute career change. Even worse, he had so many other hobbies and dreams that he couldn’t even mentally envision what to do with his life. In his free time, the man loved to write short stories or play video games, but the likelihood of becoming a famous author or Twitch streamer seemed impossible. Overall, his life left him feeling trapped and utterly helpless.

As he realized just how correct the letter’s assumption of his unhappiness was, Arthur’s eyes soon found themselves peering down to the blocky white text of “DO OVER” plastered across the top of the red button. Although he remained significantly unnerved by the contents of the letter, the bold white letters on the button had an inversely calming effect. Closing his eyes, the text flashed through his mind like an opening night marquee and thus caused the man to envision the endless amount of possibilities that he could have taken with his life. Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, the man reached a hand out and quickly slammed it down onto the bright red button.

The loud noise suddenly emitting from the contraption caused Arthur to suddenly open his eyes and look down in slight fear. As a sound similar to gears whirling seemed to emit from the inner mechanism of the device, Arthur let out a soft scream and jumped in shock as the speed of the noise increased until a booming pop filled his flat.

Soundtracked by the noise, Arthur watched as a small knob suddenly popped out and revealed itself on the left side of the device. It was perfectly in line with the rectangular LED screen, which left the man curious about if the knob was somehow linked to the screen. Just as he began to reach out to mess with the knob though, both screens suddenly became active and lost their dim and dull display.

In awe, Arthur watched as the screens finally began to display text. At first, it was just the top screen that went into action, displaying a simple welcome message that addressed him by his full legal name. But upon displaying that message for a few seconds, the screen erased the text as a slew of text emerged. As Arthur watched each statistic display itself though, he quickly realized that it was somehow perfectly displaying accurate descriptions of himself.

Name: Arthur Saunders Age: 29 Height: 6’1” Weight: 95kg Physique: Average Ethnicity: Caucasian Nationality: British

Before Arthur could even attempt to formulate a reaction to what he was seeing, his eyes watched as the bottom screen suddenly roared to life. Looking down to see what was happening, he watched as letter by letter a word was forming. Although he soon figured out what it would say by the fifth letter, Arthur still watched with intense curiosity as the word Randomizing manifested. Just as the “g” finally appeared to finish the word though, Arthur gasped in shock as a loud and shrill whirring noise began to emit from the device.

Unlike the metallic whirring sound that was due to the gears inside the device changing, this whirling was undoubtedly electronic due to its frequency. Out of nowhere, the noise spiked to ear-numbing levels and forced Arthur to grit his teeth while lifting his arms up to shield his ears.

For a few moments the sharp noise maintained its maximum intensity, which continued to just assault Arthur’s eardrums to the point where the usually non-religion man was mentally begging for salvation. To his relief and utter shock, his prayers seemed to work as the noise suddenly halted and caused the entire room to go quiet (besides the intense ringing that was still rattling in Arthur’s ears).

Unfortunately though, this tranquility didn’t last for long as a bright white light suddenly erupted from the device and completely engulfed Arthur’s modest flat. Frantic to not be blinded by the intense assault on his vision, the man pulled his hands away from his ears expeditiously and used them to cover his eyes.

Although he had assumed that the assault on his senses had been utterly affected, it seemed this wasn’t the case as Arthur could feel a dull vibration ripple across his entire body. Upon gritting his teeth, the man was left with nothing to do but ride out this uncomfortable sensation that left him feeling as though he was viciously drifting through the ocean.

After what felt like hours, the bizarre sensations riddling Arthur’s body suddenly ceased. Although he was unsure of whether the blinding light that had filled his flat had finally stopped, the confusion and fear over what he had been feeling caused him to take a risk and slowly part his eyelids. Given the blinding light and the deep vibrations that had wrecked his body resembled that of a bomb, Arthur had assumed that his flat would be in some state of disarray. But as he looked around, everything appeared to be exactly like he had last seen it from the slight piling of dirty dishes in his sink to the device that remained on the kitchen counter.

Such a reveal was confusing to Arthur, which caused him to rub his temples and attempt to figure out what exactly he had just experienced. “What the hell wa-” he began, his words suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. As his eyes bulged out in shock, the man lifted a hand up and allowed his fingers to graze along his Adam’s apple. For 29 years of his life, Arthur had always had an average and very clearly British accent when he spoke. But as he talked now, it quickly became clear that it wasn’t the case. Instead, the words that came out of his mouth resembled a deep boom that echoed through his flat and unequivocally American. “Is, is that my voice?” he asked aloud to no one in particular, his body shivering as he realized he wasn’t insane in his first assumption. He truly did sound just like the men he had seen in countless American blockbuster films.

Just as he was on the verge of becoming incredibly panicked over the new voice in which he spoke with, a loud ding suddenly rang out from the device and caused Arthur to look down. Upon doing so, he watched as the bottom screen began to display text. As he watched each line of text display itself, Arthur quickly realized that it was the same stats as the top screen, although they were now being listed in reverse order and displaying very different information.

Nationality: American Ethnicity: Caucasian

Although Arthur felt proud of himself for assuming that his assumption of his new accent was correct, there was also a lingering sense of panic as he finally took a moment to realize that the device was truly randomizing his body and turning him into someone else. With the concept of having a new life to try out now validated, the man looked down with cautious excitement as the next few lines of text began to appear.

Physique: Muscular Weight: 163 lbs Height: 5’11”

Upon watching those three lines of text appear on the screen, a loud gasp instantly escaped from the man’s mouth as he couldn’t believe the concept of becoming incredibly muscular. Although he had a moderate amount of muscle in his arms and legs, it was often clear that he was an average man by the slightly pudgy stomach that was small yet still made itself present in any shirt he wore. It was always a place of insecurity for the man, so when he looked down at himself and noticed that his stomach was completely flat, a relieved smirk manifested onto his face. This smirk quickly turned into a cocky grin though as he reached his hand underneath his shirt and ended up discovering a well-defined six-pack that left his hands feeling as though they were traveling down a brick road.

Despite wanting so badly to explore more of his new physique, Arthur forced himself to stop as the final two lines of text revealed itself to him.

Age: 23 Name: Michael Chad Johnson

Upon learning of his new name and age, the realization that he was now someone entirely different from Arthur Saunders set in. In his mind, it was one thing to gain a muscular physique and another to become an entirely different person. As such, the concept was both incredibly exciting yet also undoubtedly nerve-wracking. In hopes of calming this anxiety though, the man took a moment to remind himself that this could all be temporary and that caused him to take a deep breath and ground himself once more.

With the last of the text now displayed, Arthur wasted no time rushing away from the kitchen counter in hopes of getting a better look at himself. The man made a direct bee-line towards his bathroom, quickly flipping on the light and shutting the door behind him. As the lights above the mirror flicked to life, Arthur felt butterflies in his stomach as he found himself looking at his new visage. He looked so hot!

The man couldn’t help but smile as he looked into the mirror and admired the new features that his face possessed. Not only was he in possession of a well-angled jawline, but his blue eyes were incredibly inviting and at odds with just how classically masculine and intimidating he looked. Although it was only 6 years of age regression, Arthur quickly picked up on some noticeable changes. Given the fact that his new age made it so he wasn’t up late every night planning class lessons and grading papers, there was no indication of the slight wrinkles that had recently begun adorning his face. On top of this, the man also picked up on how his complexion had completely altered, shifting away from a slightly pasty shade to something that was much more well-maintained and tanned.

Eager to see more of his new physique, the man wasted no time taking his shirt off and throwing it aside. Upon turning back to stare into the mirror, Arthur was greeted to the glorious sight of a ripped physique. Although he was momentarily upset by the loss of chest hair that adorned his chest and down his stomach, he quickly accepted the change as he traded it in for an impressive six pack and pair of pecs.

Not wanting the remaining clothes to hinder his exploration of his new physique, Arthur quickly dropped his pants until all that he was dressed in was a pair of underwear. For several minutes the man was transfixed as he tensed his leg muscles to admire his thick thigh and calf muscles. As he turned around and craned his neck back to the mirror, the man was also relieved to discover he had a prominent yet firm ass now.

But while all of those aspects were exciting, the sudden strain against the fabric of his underwear caused Arthur to take note of his manhood. While he was admiring himself, he had understandably gotten quite turned on to the point where a rock hard cock was struggling to remain concealed. Unlike his former 5-incher, the manhood he was now in possession of had to be at least 7 inches and twice as thick. As he gripped onto it and gave a slight squeeze, the man moaned as he began to leak pre-cum. This is a dream come true, he thought, allowing one hand to caress his cock while the other flexed and squeezed on his new physique.

So while Arthur was having a blast admiring his new jock body, the device that remained unattended on the kitchen counter was continuing to move onto the next stage as text appeared on the top screen.

Stage Two: Location Alteration Current Location: United Kingdom Residence Style: Flat

Given Arthur’s new identity as an American, the second screen suddenly began to rapidly scroll through all 50 states to settle on his new home along with a list of different housing styles. After a good 15 seconds of bouncing between countless options, the device finally settled on two choices for the new Michael Chad Johnson.

New Location: Virginia Residence Style: Mobile Home

So while Arthur remained in a euphoric state exploring his new body, the man was unaware of the fact that he and his residence had been teleported to a vacant lot in a rural Virginia trailer park. Given the larger plot of land that he now called his own, the man’s flat began to expand and rearrange itself into an expanded rectangular shape. While the magic began to connect all of his piping and electricity to the plot of land, the interior of his new home was being redecorated to give a cozy Americana feel. Although a lot of the man’s original décor remained (such as the few shelves of superhero memorabilia that he had), it was condensed to allow an entire row of shelving to display vintage Americana style décor and signage.

By the time Arthur had finally exited the bathroom to return to the device, the changes to his new residence had finished and immediately threw the now-younger man for a loop. It was so bizarre to discover the new layout of his home as he attempted to navigate his way back to the kitchen. Throughout his journey to return to the device, Arthur also noticed the slew of blank picture frames that now hung off of his walls. It was a bizarre sight for the man to behold, especially as he knew that they would soon be filled with random new images as more of this Michael character’s backstory was created…

Upon returning to the kitchen counter, Arthur Saunders’ return was perfectly timed with the text of the device erasing as the next step in the process began. To his immediate interest, the next stage was revealed to be the announcement of both Arthur’s and “Michael’s” hobbies. Rather than just a text reveal though, the top screen of the device became much more visual as it was divided into three individual sections. As soon as the lines were finished dividing up the spaces, Arthur watched as each individual section began moving up and down. Watching each section rapidly spin up and down, it quickly became clear that the visual was supposed to be reminiscent of a slot machine. After a few more rotations around, each section finally stopped to lock in three emojis.

|🖊️|💪|🕹️|

To Arthur’s amusement, he saw these and immediately realized that they perfectly described his hobbies. Whenever he wasn’t hard at work grading papers or creating lesson plans, the man loved nothing more than writing, working out, or playing video games. Although he shouldn’t have been surprised about how accurate the device was given the magical abilities of it, he still found himself impressed that he could be narrowed down so specifically.

Soon afterwards, the bottom screen adopted the same visual style and began to aimlessly spin. With intense curiosity, Arthur found himself bent over the counter and excitedly looking down to wonder what his new hobbies would be as Michael. One-by-one, the emojis that formed caused Arthur’s heart to flutter in a tizzy of intense joy.

|📱|💪|🎼|

Although he had no idea what the music emoji would entail, the visual of seeing a cell phone and a flexing emoji back to back left Arthur taking into account his hunky new physique and becoming excited about the concept of being a hunky influencer. While the magic quietly worked itself in the background for a few minutes though, the man began to ponder whether his educated guess was actually right as nothing seemed to be happening. But soon enough, his phone began to go absolutely haywire as a flood of notifications began to ring out and fill the room with an endless sea of dings.

Despite not being able to unlock the phone as it continued to ding and reveal endless notifications, the man’s lock screen was able to provide a decent amount of information as he saw these notifications coming from both Instagram and TikTok. With each like and comment notification flooding his phone, the man’s mind couldn’t help but wonder what his new social media content would be like.

Eventually Arthur was given the opportunity to explore his new social media as the notifications finally stopped after a few more minutes of notification spamming. To start things off he headed over to his Instagram to see what had become of his account. Upon doing so and heading to his account page, the man was flabbergasted to discover that his new account of michaelchad757 had nearly 100k followers. Given the fact that his former account only had 400 followers, the growth was monumental and left Arthur oddly feeling incredibly proud despite not actually being Michael.

Upon clicking on his most recent post, Arthur was immediately turned on by innate confidence that his new self displayed as he smirked for the camera and flexed his mighty biceps. Based on the comments underneath the post, it seemed that Arthur wasn’t in the minority in terms of how hot and bothered his flexing made people feel.

After quickly scrolling through the rest of his post history and finding tons of flexing videos or thirst trap photos that showcased his ripped torso, Arthur was buzzing with excitement to see what sort of visual delights awaited him on TikTok. As such, the man quickly exited out of Instagram and switched over to the other app that had become overloaded with notifications. Upon doing so and heading to his account, Arthur was shocked to discover that his account there was even bigger than his Instagram. With over 250,000 followers and over 2.6 million likes, he was an undeniable TikTok star!

For the most part, his TikTok account was exactly what he expected: an endless slew of thirst traps where he cockily smirked on the camera before removing his shirt and flexing his muscles as a random song or sound soundtracked the video. As he continued to scroll through videos, he found that Michael had a favorite move - popping his pecs to the beat of any song that he used in the video. It was incredibly hypnotizing to watch his plump chest ripple and bounce to the song, which made more sense as to why he was able to amass such a huge following despite being the most vanilla of thirst traps.

After scrolling through at least 20 videos of his new body doing the same sort of moves while stripping, Arthur found himself thrown for a loop when he came across a video of Michael doing something non-flexing related. Instead, he watched as his shirtless body stood in front of a mirror and instead began to freestyle rap rather than flex. Such a reveal was a huge shock to Arthur, especially as he himself wasn’t much of a rap guy. Pop and alternative were usually his favorite genres, so this new reveal was quite the 180 for the former teacher.

Yet as he exited out of the app to explore his Apple Music, he found that the device had deleted all of his favorite tunes from his library and replaced them with unknown rap songs that Michael seemingly adored. Upon hitting shuffle, the first song that popped up seemed like an instant no to Arthur as the instrumental was a far cry from his usual tastes. But as the beat continued and rapping began, the transformed man found himself absentmindedly perfectly replicating the words and the flow of the rapper.

Upon allowing the song to finish up, Arthur was somewhat amused by this new quirk. Although he loved his pop music more than anything, he found himself willing to embrace this new change as he viewed this new life as only temporary since he could just do another attempt with the device tomorrow. As soon as this thought crossed his mind, the device seemed to pick up on Arthur’s acceptance of his new situation as the screens lit up once more and began to move to the next stage.

The bright lights of the screen pulled Arthur away from his phone, which caused him to tuck it back into his pants pocket as he devoted his attention to the device once more. While doing so, Arthur quickly discovered that the next stage would be deemed the “mental changes”. As the text quickly deleted itself, the man watched as the screens evolved once more and became more visual. Instead of a slot machine graphic though, each screen revealed a large roulette wheel.

In a snap, each roulette slot suddenly became adored with various text. While the top screen had a slew of numbers ranging from 70 to 130, the bottom screen’s slots were filled with text that listed various things such as “heterosexual”, “asexual”, “homosexual”. As he read the bottom screen, he was able to quickly figure out that the roulette wheel there was meant to decide his new sexuality. Given his status already as a bisexual, the device had already grayed out that option to make it clear that he was intended to have a new experience with Michael’s life. The top screen remained a mystery for a few minutes before the term “IQ” was suddenly manifested in the middle of the roulette wheel.

Instantly, the concept of changing his IQ set off alarm bells in Arthur’s mind. The concept of gaining a new body was a dream come true, but the 50/50 chances of becoming either smarter or dumber than what he already was was a risk he was unwilling to take. As such, he tried his best to search for a way to skip the intended changes. But his entire search of the device revealed no skip button and he gulped in fear as the top wheel began to spin just as he set it back down on the counter.

For what felt like an eternity, the wheel continued to just aimlessly spin as if it was taunting Arthur for its impending choice. As such, Arthur’s entire body felt absolutely sluggish as the weight of the upcoming decision weighed on him. To both his relief and horror, the wheel finally decided to stop on the number 74. Given the fact that his IQ had seemingly been in the 100 range based on how that entire range had been grayed out, 74 was an extreme downgrade.

Instantly, Arthur could feel the intense ripple effect of the IQ choice as his mind was seemingly drained of his knowledge. In no time, it quickly became clear that he wouldn’t be a teacher anymore as all of his university knowledge was sapped away and left him with a high school education. To make matters worse though, Arthur’s knowledge was further impacted as his low IQ made him a piss-poor student with a bare minimum vocabulary. Rather than easily passing all of his classes and graduating near the top of his class, Michael was an obvious idiot who struggled to stay focused on boring class lessons. As more of Arthur’s high school experiences were erased, they were soon replaced with memories that fit a total slacker like Michael. Given his new low attention span and dislike of boring classes, Arthur’s thoughts of high school brought forth new memories of being a total nuisance in class as he loved to disrupt the teacher or sit in the back making small talk with his other jock friends.

This life path as a total himbo also led to an unintended side effect as new memories emerged where Michael opted to go by his middle name of Chad. This was mainly due to the fact that everyone in his friend loved to taunt him and jokingly call him a “total Chad”. Given the fact that his middle name was actually Chad, he opted to forgo his ill-fitting first name and become the complete Chad fantasy that his best bros had heralded him.

Speaking of jocks, Chad’s high school experience made it so the only place he really excelled was in sports. Throughout his 4 years, he had played football, wrestling, and baseball and been the star player on each team. If it wasn’t for his barely passing grades, he could have gotten full-ride scholarships to countless major schools. But alas, the man found himself utterly bored with school by the time the last sports season of the year was over. Rather than wasting his time and waking up early to spend 7 “dull ass” hours trapped in a classroom, Chad dropped out a month before graduation and began to just work out at the gym 24/7.

This decision had a serious impact on Chad’s life, causing him to get kicked out of his parents’ house and left to fend for himself. Given his jock physique, he ultimately found himself making money occasionally training some pudgy middle-aged loser who wanted to lose weight at his local gym. It was pathetic in Chad’s eyes to watch someone fail to do the bare minimum in terms of workouts, but he refused to make his thoughts known so he could continue making money. After nearly six months of crashing on the couch of his jockish best friends, the man had finally gained enough money to move into a mobile home in a nearby trailer park.

By the time the second wheel had begun spinning, the light behind Arthur’s vibrant blue eyes had faded, leaving behind simply the dull stare of an idiot himbo. As such, the only reason why the man’s attention was kept by the device was the bright vibrant colors of the wheel as it widely spun around. This transfixion that the device kept on him was maintained even as the wheel stopped spinning and landed on the heterosexual option, so much so that he didn’t even object to such a reveal.

“Fuck yeah bro, that’s lit!” Chad exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air as deep down Arthur finally submitted to become his ultimate straight jock fantasy. Upon closing his eyes and thinking about what it would be like to be a straight man, Arthur found himself envisioning a blonde bimbo on her knees and looking up with a lustful stare. While this fantasy was helping lead him into this new sexual orientation, the man’s cock was hardening as his memories of love and relationships were altering.

Rather than being attracted to jocks like his best bros or sweet and kind girls, Arthur’s mind found his memories altering to where he almost exclusively hooked up with members of his high school cheerleading team. There were countless memories where he would be approached after a game by a girl looking to congratulate him for a great performance, which would soon lead to erotic fucking in the locker rooms or baseball dugouts. Although Arthur was once a sensitive lover who was more interested in the emotional connection he had with someone, it was all physical for Chad. He didn’t give a fuck about personality or emotional connection, all that mattered to him was whether a girl had a “banging bod” or not.

Upon the wheel’s effects finally finishing up their changes to the new Chad’s mind, the screens went blank again before announcing that the final stage - career prospects - was about to begin. As Chad looked up towards the first screen, he was utterly confused to see that his career was listed as a “Professional Educator & Aspiring Writer”. He fucking loathed school, so he would never dare to become a loser that spent all of his time dressed up all nice and teaching dumb shit that didn’t matter in real life! The concept of becoming a writer was funny to Chad as well, because he was fully aware of the fact that he was a complete idiot. He loved that fact about himself, so the concept of becoming a writer with his elementary school level writing abilities was hilarious.

After finishing his laugh at the concept of having such loser jobs, Chad watched as the bottom screen lit up and began to display text. His mind was quite confused though as the screen displayed the same text as the top screen: “Professional Educator & Aspiring Writer”. To add more confusion to the mix, the words educator and writer were suddenly erased to leave two large blanks.

As soon as this was complete, Chad jumped in shock as a keyboard suddenly extended out of the device. At first the man had no idea what he was supposed to do, but as he looked at the screen and watched as a text cursor began to blink within the first blank. “Oh shit, it’s like a game huh?” Chad dimly exclaimed, chuckling as he thought about the concept of picking his own career. Although he had the opportunity to pick any possible career that could provide him with a more lavish lifestyle, Chad’s low IQ didn’t allow for such intense thinking. As such, the man’s id led the way as he opted to pursue his immediate impulsive thoughts and typed out his answers. Upon looking it over, the man gave a dopey smile before he pressed the enter button to lock in his answer.

With a loud yet cheerful ringing suddenly emerging upon hitting enter, Chad found himself staring intensely at the bottom screen as more text began to finally fill the screen.

Professional Thirst Trap & Aspiring Rapper * CHOICE ACCEPTED *

Instantly, Chad tilted his head back and gasped as an intense tingle began to massage his skull. Deep within his brain, the jock’s mind was undergoing one final transformation to complete his new life for the day. Although his memories of becoming a worker at his local gym were true, this altered slightly as he became TikTok famous to the point where brands were actively reaching out to do deals and endorsements with him. With such a steady amount of income coming in, the man ultimately quit his job and focused on creating thirst trap content. Now instead of the grueling chore of a 9 to 5, Chad simply spends all of his time now working out and filming vanity videos of himself flexing for the camera.

Given just how fast his brand had grown over the course of the past year, Chad knew that he had his audience in the palm of his hand. So, knowing just how much people thirsted for him (for obvious reasons in his opinion), Chad also found himself making even more money as he opted to open up an OnlyFans account. Despite his OnlyFans account name being Chad Johnson (which always made him chuckle as he was a total Chad and had one glorious Johnson), the young jock was willing to show practically everything besides his impressive manhood.

Although this was partially due to wanting to keep the ladies guessing, the main factor was that he knew that a large portion of his fans were gay men who thirsted over him. He had always had an issue with queers ever since he caught some nerds checking him out during gym class, so there was always a boiling rage he felt whenever he saw a man thirst-commenting on any of his photos or videos. The concept of some pathetic losers jerking off to his glorious body was utterly disgusting in Chad’s eyes, but the man was smart enough not to make those thoughts known so he wouldn’t be canceled. As such, he ultimately opted to forget about it as they were paying customers who helped fund his lavish lifestyle of expensive fitness gear and sports cars despite still opting to live in his trailer.

Given the constant influx of money he received every month from brand deals and OnlyFans, Chad spent most of his free time pursuing his other passion - rapping. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been drawn to the genre and found himself writing raps for fun whenever he was bored (which was pretty often). Now that he had no worries given his healthy income, the man finally decided to fully invest into his career as an aspiring rapper. Thinking back caused Chad to recall the release of his most recent EP, which had done moderate numbers given the size of his fanbase.

Unfortunately, Chad’s cockiness made him unable to realize that he truly wasn’t the greatest rapper. Even when people commented under his posts to specifically pinpoint why he wasn’t good at the genre, he refused to believe such nonsense. Those losers were just jealous of his immense talent and trying anything they could to make him give up on his dreams!

As he continued to think about the intense criticism he got and considered making a diss track about those pathetic losers trying to hold him back, the changing of the text on the device’s screens caused him to forgo that thought and see what it said.

If you’d like to keep this life, please press in the knob to lock it in. If not, you can press the button again tomorrow to try again. Thanks for using The Do-Over!

Upon reading the text, Chad found himself struggling to comprehend everything that had just occurred to him. He knew deep down that he didn’t used to be like this, but the details were so vague and thinking about it too hard was just making his head hurt… and he hated that!

Luckily for him, a ding from his phone stole his attention and caused him to forget about the confusing transformation that had just befallen him. To his amusement, a text from Chad’s newest hookup had arrived. Although he had a feeling that he had never met the woman before, the memories that rushed into his mind upon thinking about her caused him to think otherwise. He could instantly recall countless nights of fucking where she eagerly worshipped his muscles and was utterly submissive as he fondled her perky breasts, teased her nipples, and slapped her soft peach-shaped ass. He was a total hunk, so it wasn’t a shock that girls like her would bow down to a total alpha!

Cockily smirking upon recalling just how great it was to fuck her, Chad took a moment to adjust the thick bulge that was straining against his underwear before unlocking his phone and entering the text messaging app. Upon doing so, his heart began to beat a little bit faster as he read the “omw” text and looked at the attached photo showcasing the raven-haired woman in her car.

Knowing that the woman only lived a few minutes away, Chad was quick to run around his trailer. Rather than cleaning up though, the man was simply moving items off of the couch and his bed to make sure they had no obstructions once they started messing around. Upon exiting his bedroom, the hunk took a detour into the bathroom where he quickly grabbed a box of condoms out of the medicine cabinet and returned to the kitchen.

After setting them on the counter next to the device that had transformed him, the sound of a knock on his door caused him to perk up and adopt his best machismo persona. With a swagger in his step, he strutted over to the door and pushed it open. As he flicked on the porch light and lifted his arms up to pose against the doorframe, he smirked as he saw Katie standing there dressed in a long trench coat.

“‘Sup babe?” He remarked, smirking as the woman looked up at him with “fuck me” eyes. To his surprise and pleasure though, Katie then suddenly moved towards him, but rather than stopping upon being face to face she just continued. Despite the man’s impressive physique, she was unfazed as she plowed right into his shoulder and caused him to move away and allow her entry. Such an action was an incredible turn on to Chad, as evident by the way he bit his lip and stifled a slight moan as he picked up on the scent of her flowery perfume.

By the time he returned into the living room upon shutting the front door, the woman had already pulled off the trench coat and revealed an expensive-looking pair of white lace lingerie. So clearly turned on, the jock couldn’t resist reaching down and gripping onto his bulge as he savored the sight of the woman’s D cup breasts struggling to remain trapped within the garment. To make matters even worse, Katie then began to tease the man by attempting a slight striptease.

“Oh, you want this don’t you?” she purred, guiding her fingers down to her panties which she began to slowly nudge down past the top of her curvy hips.

“Fuck yeah babe,” Chad exclaimed, making his way closer to her until their lips were mere centimeters away. Given the close proximity, the man was overcome by his lustful desires and leaned in to whisper that into her ear. “I wanna fuck that tight pussy of yours so bad…” As he pulled back away from Katie’s ear, the man noticed how the woman now had an equally cocky smirk on her face.

Upon waiting a second, she looked the man up and down and began to speak once more. “Then why are you still standing here doing nothing,” she matter of factly asked, which instantly sent Chad in a frenzy.

With incredible haste, the jock put his strength to use by wrapping his arms around Katie’s shoulders and the small of her back before lifting her up. Knowing exactly what to do, the girl pushed her feet off of the ground and used the momentum to wrap her legs around Chad’s waist. Now intimately intertwined, the duo pushed their heads forward and began to sloppily kiss each other.

As their tongues began to their partner’s mouths, Chad continued walking until he was in the kitchen. Eager to get to the main event as if it was the first time he’d fucked in years (even though he knew he had literally just fucked another girl the night prior), the jock set the woman down on his kitchen countertop while pulling away to begin peppering kisses up and down her chest.

In more attempts to display his alpha behavior, the man felt no remorse for gripping onto the front of Katie’s bra and ripping it off rather than just unfastening it. Based on the way the woman gasped and moaned as Chad pulled the material off and revealed her breasts, it was clear that she didn’t mind it either.

With Chad basically nude already, all he had to do by the time he peeled off Katie’s panties was to drop his underwear and kick them to the side. Now staring at each other’s nude forms for a moment, both of them felt an undeniable attraction to each other that made a deep fiery lust emerge within them. As such, Chad looked towards the box of condoms on the counter and quickly grabbed onto them. Upon opening it and tearing one of the packaged condoms open with his teeth, Chad smirked as he rolled it down his irresistible eight inches of manhood.

Upon giving a knowing glance at each other, Chad wasted no time penetrating the woman’s pussy and beginning to fuck her with impressive stamina. As he continued to use his whole body with each thrust, the slapping of skin was also soundtracked by the high-pitched moans of Katie as Chad immediately began to pleasure her. Due to this, the woman found herself losing control of her body as it caused her to flail around.

So while their passionate lovemaking was occurring, neither of them picked up on the fact that one of Katie’s frantic hands had accidentally bumped into a large circular object that was on the counter. As a result, none of them could see how the device with the large red “DO-OVER” button landed onto the floor perfectly so that the extended knob was pressed in and locked into place.

Given how preoccupied Chad would be for the rest of the night into the next morning, the jock would never discover the device again as the magic within would allow it to be transported back to the company’s headquarters so the next deserving candidate was given the chance for a do-over. As such, Chad would wake up the next morning and go about his daily routine with no memory of the life that he had accidentally given up. Although Arthur himself certainly wouldn’t be too pleased to discover that he had become an idiotic straight himbo, Chad loved that aspect of himself and thought that he was living the dream life!

Interested in reading more of my content? Head over to my Patreon to discover more than 140 hot transformation stories like this one! Additionally, I've also recently added a perk to the $15 tier where members can submit themselves to be the protagonist in future stories! If you'd love to be transformed by me, this is the only opportunity since I don't do commissions anymore.

#male transformation #nerd to jock #gay to straight #reality shift #mental changes

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malebodytf · 4 months ago

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Michael took a sip of the protein shake his new gym bro handed him, not thinking much of it. He had been going to the gym for a while but hadn’t seen much progress, so a little help seemed like just what he needed.

The moment the drink touched his lips, his body jolted. His skinny frame suddenly stretched taller, his arms swelling with dense, thick muscle. His chest ballooned into massive, meaty pecs, round and solid, pushing against his shirt until the fabric strained. His neck thickened, his shoulders broadened, his back widened into a powerful V-shape.

A sharp, musky scent filled the air, his own. He reeked of pure testosterone, sweat, and strength, but he was too focused on chugging the shake to notice.

As the last drop slid down his throat, his mind rewired. Books? Comics? Nerd shit? That wasn’t him. He dedicated his life to the pump. His head swam with new thoughts—sports, lifting, getting massive and pushing his body until he becomes a freakish mountain of muscle. If anyone dared to call him a nerd, he’d knock their teeth out.

The new Michael, or how he now preferred to be called—Mike—let out a deep, rumbling belch, licked his lips, and smirked while flexing his guns.

"Yo, bro, got another one?"

#jockification #himbo #male transformation #male tf #mental change #muscle transformation #muscle tf #nerd to jock #dumber tf #muscle #tf story

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occamstfs · 4 months ago

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Peace Together

Devon dreamed of getting out of the South, after achieving his great escape and beginning his Ivy League education he finds a new challenge in his perfect roommate, Phillip Wellington III or Lip. Never has the jock been anything but an angel to his new roommate, so why does he drive Devon mad?

Anxious nerd -> Preppy jock Bit of a self indulgent one, vaguely based on a certain American novel, which anyone who has read it will surely notice haha! Once more aided by Fred W. Kong! Hope you enjoy this tale of two longing roommates! -Occam

Devon never believed that people like Lip actually existed. Sure, superficially he looked just like any number of tormentors he knew from back home; The very ones who led him to avoid any team sports or phys ed, the ones that led him to pour everything he had into his studies and any academic extracurriculars he could find to get out of Mississippi. And so he did, and then he met Phillip. Or Lip, as he prefers to be called.

The pair came from different worlds. Devon was the sole Asian student in a southern public high school. Phillip Wellington III was the scion of a blue blooded Massachusetts clan. From the start Devon knew he would be encountering people from lives he would never understand, coming from backgrounds of such privilege he could scarcely understand.

But when he heard he would be rooming with a Wellington, Devon went almost catatonic with fear that he would be some plaything of a rich asshole. Out from the frying pan of brutish jocks and into the fire of a genuinely powerful preppy tyrant. Come to find out however, Lip was the furthest thing from a cruel snob.

At face value, one would assume Lip was handed his admission to this university on a silver platter, and true, no donor-hungry university would deny a Wellington. Devon certainly thought as much. But after learning even briefly of his new roommate’s achievements it was clear that by all accounts, Lip earned his place here. His test scores were stellar, academically he sometimes even gave Devon a run for his money. On top of his stellar intellectual pursuits though, he was an athletic star unlike any other.

Like a polyglot learns languages or a prodigy instruments, anytime Lip encountered a sport or game he had yet to play, in an hour's time he would be schooling whoever showed him the ropes. He could do it all, he did do it all. He had every right to look down on Devon. And yet ever since their first meeting Lip has been nothing but kind and respectful. He has been a beacon of warmth to Devon as he adapted to this cold, often hostile new university life.

So why does he fill Devon with such dread?

“Y’alright buddy? Dev?”

Devon shakes out of a stupor he didn’t even know he was in and finds himself staring directly at his roommate, his self-proclaimed best friend, Lip. He smiles awkwardly, as he does most things, and apologizes, “Jeez yeah- too many late nights I guess, sorry Phillip.”

Lip grins, perfect smile gleaming as he walks over to ruffle Devon’s hair. The meek man desperately tries to hide how he freezes up under the faultless man’s touch, something he’s well practiced in after their few years living together. While both are quite busy with the rigor of their course schedules, Lip even more so with his athletic and social commitments, in their free time it was rare to see one without the other.

Outside observers would be quick to pin Devon a hanger on, but in reality Lip goes out of his way to be near his roommate whenever the opportunity presents itself. Which, given Devon’s proclivity towards static study is fairly often. An entire floor of the campus’ library had become something of a popular haunt due to Devon, and by proxy Lip, frequenting it and attracting the true hangers on of the Wellington golden boy.

For the life of him, Devon can’t understand why a man that anyone in their right mind would describe as perfect would give him the time of day. Why he would care to spend time with him at all, let alone invite him on their family vacations. Since Devon stumbled into their dorm all those years ago and saw Lip hallowed by their cheap phosphorescent ceiling fan, he has done nothing but gone out of his way to ensure Devon would never feel lesser. It made the ever-antsy man feel like he was going insane.

“Man! Lost in your head again Dev? Gotta be a new record,” Devon feels the blush burning on his cheeks as he sees the same genuine smile that is almost always painted on Lip’s face. His blush is certainly not helped by the fact that Lip is halfway through changing into a flowy button up. Not that Devon’s gay of course, or whatever. He just wasn’t prepared to see his friend shirtless. Lip’s smile briefly flickers as he tilts his head before continuing, “Are you still down to head to the frat networking thing tonight?”

Devon groans for a few uninterrupted seconds. Shit- He knows he really should go, but truly nothing sounds more hellish than spending time with those money-bagged brutes. Eyes flicker and something in his chest flutters as he looks to his roommate, at least Lip will be there. The thought is buried without reflection, “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll go with you-”

“Sweet!” Lip’s smile fades for the smallest moment and he quickly goes to smell his pit before grimacing, “Oof I better hit the shower before though-” The Adonis reaches to grab his shirt by the hem and lifts it over his head with effortless grace, perfectly displaying his waist and sending a gulp down Devon’s throat. Looking down at his roommate with a wink, Lip grabs a hanging towel before rushing into the bathroom, “Be out in 30, you don’t need a shower before the thing too do ya?”

Face angled down, pointedly not looking at Lip as he unbuttons his pants Devon shakes his head and doesn’t see his roommate’s carefree shrug. Finally, when the door closes and Devon hears the shower running, he sighs and feels secure enough to raise his eyes again. With Lip away Devon feels his attention drawn to the discarded, apparently sweaty shirt. His mouth goes dry.

Try as he might to distract himself, the pull the garment has on him is all-consuming. Devon is pulled to it like a mouth to the flame, his eyes struggling to stray just as they always fail to avoid staring at the back of Lip’s head. Comforted by the drone of the shower, he allows himself to step forward and grab the ever so slightly damp shirt, all the while repeating the mantra ‘I’m not gay’ in his head.

Such thoughts are put on hold as he reaches down to grab it, finding the shirt still slightly warm from being worn by Lip. Moreover he feels his hands are sticky with sweat as he lifts it up, unsure why he is doing this or what he is to do with it next. Devon gulps as he realizes just how large it is. It’s of no surprise of course, Lip is so much larger than him. The Achilles to his Pat- er no that’s not right. All these classics classes are rotting his mind.

Devon bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his fingers rest on the damp left behind by Lip’s pits. Before he even knows what he’s doing he thrusts his face into the shirt and takes a deep sniff. Quicker than he can consciously think, his body reacts to this with delight more than he thought possible. In his mind he reflexively pictures his perfect roommate on the green chasing down a soccer ball, working up a sweat as he climbs trees just for the fun of it, sprinting down the university’s track to set a new high jump record.

Devon’s heart flutters as he is so easily able to recollect the man’s splendor, his success. Burned into his psyche clearer than anything, Devon sees Lip. He sees his brilliant smile, feels his rough palms, smells the memory of his sweat overpowering expensive cologne as powerfully as he smells both on the shirt clutched to his face. This is not enough, he needs more. His mouth waters as he imagines the exposed happy trail, sees a few curls extending past the edge of Lip’s sleeve, hears an echo of his loud lilting laughter. Devon needs to be him, Devon needs him.

Comforted by the sound of the shower still running, Devon loosens his white-knuckled grip on the shirt and moves to stand in front of a mirror. Throwing off the graphic tee he had on, he moves quicker than he has in years to throw on Lip’s shirt. It hangs limply from his thin shoulders and onto his flat chest, the sleeves fall well past his fingertips. He feels the cold patch of sweat about halfway down his sides where the garment apparently clung to Lip’s pits.

He pulls the placket tight to feel the shirt strain against his thin back, desperately willing the shirt to fit him. Wishing more than anything it was skin tight as it fit on Lip. Wishing he were man enough to fill it.

Staring at his reflection he sees nothing but the fool he is. The phoney he always has been. He sees his eyes begin to water as his face burns with embarrassment, with envy, with a need to be someone else. With an oppressive hunger to be more like Lip, to be Lip.

Clenching his eyes shut to avoid crying outright, the sound of the running shower fades into silence as he loses himself to his memories, his obsessive recollections once more. Burned into his eyes before the sting of tears can overwhelm him he sees how the waist of the shirt hung low, almost to his knees. And then he flashes back.

It was early on in their relationship, Devon was still unpacking his things as they moved into their first dorm. He had probably spent about half a minute trying to reach something on top of their bookshelf before Lip sidled over to lend a helping hand. Guarded more than could possibly be healthy, Devon almost scoffs before grumbling out a thanks. Turning to look up at Lip, he sees his new roommate scratching the back of his head in as awkward a manner as he’s probably capable, “Sorry Devon- I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself or-”

“It’s fine! It’s whatever.”

Refusing to let it rest, and unaware that Devon’s size is obviously an insecurity, Lip continues, “How tall are you anyway?” Devon’s brow twitches into a scowl as he prepares to snap before turning to see a look of genuine care and curiosity on his new roommate’s face. Thrown for such a loop he answers as he always does, falsely, “No it’s fine I’m uh, 5’9” Lip looks the student up and down and knows he can’t be taller than five seven. Devon simply banks that no one cares enough to call him on the matter, usually a safe bet.

The deceit bothers Lip though, quickly he moves to rest a hand on Devon’s shoulder before his new roommate can flinch away. Lip looks him intently in the eyes, “You shouldn’t lie about your height Dev. You shouldn’t feel the need to.” Devon feels the hand twitch on his shoulder as Lip considers moving it into a caress or pulling him into a hug before he instead takes a step back to give him room, “You don’t need to care about what others think of you buddy.”

The conversation dogged him then almost as much as it does now. All this time later he still cannot get over how affected he was by Lip’s kindness. How much he immediately longed to help him, to be his friend. His intense stare, the warm hand perfectly resting its weight on his shoulder, if Devon focuses he swears he can feel it there now, comforting him. Ugh! It’s driving him insane.

Opening his eyes he sees himself in a mirror, just as he was before. A reflection of his playing dress-up. Shaky hands resting on the counter and then he sees it. Or no? No, the image has changed? It must be in his head, it has to be. And yet, as he stares at the mirror, he would swear the shirt seems to be fitting him better. Making an effort he goes to stand up straight and sees the button up pull a few inches higher, he feels himself take up more space in the room.

Covering his mouth with a hand, Devon gasps and poses to find himself standing at least 5’9. No. Even taller. His eyes alight with wonder, but there’s no time to question this miracle as he realizes the sound of the running shower has stopped. Then he hears the turning of a door handle and sees steam pouring out from the bathroom door opening as Lip returns, towel wrapped around his waist and sculpted body bare to the world “Don’t remember if you needed to shower too but you’re all good now Dev!”

Shaking his hair dry like a dog, only then does he notice Devon guiltily staring at him, “Oh! That my shirt buddy? Coulda just asked-” Not a hint of judgement or suspicion on his face. Though he’s stunned from shock as Devon runs over and grabs him by his arms, never has the man ever gone out of his way to touch him fully clothed. For him to even look at him while he’s basically nude must mean something is seriously amiss.

“Phillip. Do you notice anything different about me?” Lip looks him up and down with a shy smile, tightening the towel hiding his modesty as he does so, “Uhhh, not really Dev?” Devon releases his grip as he too realizes how out of character the action was, “Look! I’m clearly taller!”

Lip tilts his head and looks closely, Devon sees his furrowed brow and for a moment it seems like he’s going to agree, but then his eyes get glassy. With a grunt Lip blinks hard a couple times and then whatever confusion that lay behind his eyes is gone, his expression returned to the usual perfect smile that rests upon his face, “What do you mean buddy? We’ve always been the same height!”

Devon blanches. Looking down he realizes that as he was so honed in on Lip that he didn’t even notice as he sprouted taller once more. He feels the cool air of their dorm room on his ankles as his legs have clearly lengthened, sees his wrists peeking from the sleeves of a shirt that now seems almost too short for his lanky arms. Gasping, he almost falls back from realizing that he is currently making direct eye contact with Lip, a man who has always stood over a head taller than him. In fact he would have fallen, had his roommate not been ready to catch him.

Devon feels the man’s slightly damp arm holding him aloft, he quietly apologizes, knowing that Devon is usually touch averse. “Sorry Dev.” In the rush to catch him, their faces rest but an inch apart from each other. Both men freeze. Devon smells Lip’s minty, warm breath and is faced with a need more pressing than he’s ever felt before. Fortunately for him, Lip’s down-turned eyes and wanting mouth provide no illusion that he craves anything but the same.

It’s not clear who moves first as their mouths meet. It doesn’t matter as they both lean in and for the first time since they met, Devon feels peace. Even the hysteria of his suddenly sprouting almost half a foot taller cannot stir him from the bliss and contentment he finds in the embrace of Phillip Wellington. When he glides across the man’s brilliant teeth with his tongue and feels his counterpart do the same, Devon finally opens his eyes to see Lip's tanned face far too close for comfort, see his lashes quiver as he somehow finds similar delight in Devon’s mouth.

And he pushes away.

Devon falls to the floor, causing a clamor louder than either man expected. Scrambling on the floor he gasps deeper breaths than his thin torso should be able to manage. His vision flashes white from taking in more oxygen than he’s ever done before. Hands that moments ago were clutching and rubbing the bare muscled back of Lip now fly to his own chest as his expanding lungs burn, only to find resistance where there should be none.

Fingers inching under the borrowed shirt scrape against the bulging muscle fibers of pecs beginning to form. As Phillip reaches out a helping hand as he has done on countless occasions in the time they’ve known each other, Devon skitters away, doing everything short of smacking the hand as he struggles to push himself back using his legs alone, crying out in a voice cracking deeper, “WhAT’s happening to me PhILip!”

Lip, not used to being caught off-guard, struggles to come up with a game plan as he’s distracted watching Devon’s exposed ankles prickle with hair as hitherto non-existent calves begin to press against his pants. Staring hungrily as wider feet press against cheap tennis shoes, filling them almost to bursting as Devon tries to crawl onto his bed. Lip’s mind is torn between two worlds, just as Devon seems to be torn between two selves. He struggles to remember which Devon he knows to be real, the quiet one sheepishly sneaking peeks at him from behind a textbook, or the one that seems to be bursting forth before him.

Crying out as his vocal chords thicken and expand, Devon’s deepening grunts cover the unpleasant sounds of his back cracking as it widens to fill Lip’s shirt. Ribs pushing out and giving him a thick chest that anyone would envy, that he should envy. Memories flash through his mind from years of hungrily staring at Lip’s pecs are interrupted with just as many instances of staring at his own massive chest in gym mirrors. Posing alongside his lov- friend, flexing and playing with a meaty chest. His eye twitches as sees a clear memory of Lip sucking on his larger nipples before gasping and returning to the present moment, hands clenching his bedsheets.

Looking at them, Devon is again stunned with images forcing their way through his mind like a reel. He can’t tell what is real or imagined, he feels himself being topped by Lip. And then he sees Lip’s tanned hands pulling at the bedsheets as he clutches the man’s pecs from behind. Yanking at his blonde curls, he hears heady breaths from his deeper chest. Feels the sweat, smells the man’s natural musk.

In reality his hips reflexively rut against the bed as he cries out Lip’s name in between drooling grunts, “Lip, help-” For the first time in all their knowing each other that he opts to not use the man’s full name, breaking Lip out of his strange lull. Seeing the man quivering against his bed frame, ass suddenly filling out his pants as they begin to tear, Lip can’t help but get distracted. He’s always been drawn to his bookish er- brawny roommate, but facing the man as he grows he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold back.

His excitement makes itself known as under the towel barely hanging onto his own gyrating waist, there’s a clear, throbbing outline of a cock that could do with some attention. One that Devon finds precisely at eye level as he turns on the spot, “Lip. I need your grgh-,” the words dance as he has trouble controlling his still thrusting form, abs bursting onto his torso give him power enough to push off his bed with ease. Which he does, exercising his new burning strength.

Head light from vertigo, he takes his first stumbled step forward and falls once more into the arms of Lip, his face squarely pushed against the man’s dewy pecs. Looking up to find Lip staring into him with nothing short of total desire, biting his lip with a fervor, Devon struggles to not totally give in to whatever alien drive is pulling them together,“Look we- we can’t, I’m not supposed to be like this!”

It’s unclear if Lip is even listening as he whines from the feeling of Devon’s bare skin against his own. Shaking with the effort of holding back, he allows his towel to fall to the ground, gasping as his cock bobs free, forcefully bumping into Devon’s barely contained package. Looking down to see Lip’s exposed growing rod, Devon feels his ability to keep his hardening cock and growing lust under control waning.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up. As he feels his traps bulging and arms bulking, he wonders if he even wants to anymore. There’s only a hint of lucidity behind Lip’s eyes as Devon makes his appeals, and with each needy throb of his package, every scratch of Lip’s hands against his back, every sweaty breath against his torso even that meagre show of willpower begins to fade.

“I’m not some muscle-bound hunk like you Lip! I’m just dweeb! I’m your little pet project!” Lip shakes his head slowly, and with each rotation Devon changes even more, biceps shaping up to be even larger than Lip’s. He feels them strain the shirt and grunts as he is unable to ignore the continuing changes. Lip would never call him a pet project, to Lip they were friends, just friends. Not divided by status, Lip never looked down on him.

“Okay whatever! We’re friends, right? Just friends!” Lip’s mouth falls open, wanting to take a bite, give a hickey, drink in Devon’s saliva, taste his sweat. Devon’s heart skips a beat as his chest feels a pang of need, are they just friends? His jaw squares out, shaping into something impossibly masculine, powerful and sharp. One of Lip’s hands forces itself under his shirt to rub his back as muscle continues to pack on. The other makes its way all the way up to play with Devon’s hair as it changes from the same cut he has gotten his whole life. Changing from one deliberately unassuming to a cut that heightens his masculinity, displays his status. One that looks just like Lip’s

He remembers when Lip took him to the barber shop his parents always took him to, being introduced to men that have known Phillip his whole life. He remembers being introduced as Dev, ‘my boyfr-” No. that didn’t happen, that can’t have happened. And yet he feels his haircut change to something posh and preppy. Something like that which he has always adored on Lip’s head. Oh how he adores him.

His mouth is a millimeter away from kissing his perfect man, the perfect man once more, something he knows would spell the end of life as he knew it. But as the seconds pass in the grasp of Lip, as his hands unconsciously free his cock from its captivity, he can scarcely remember which life lived is even the real one. He’s still Devon, he’s still a student who fought his way here from the south, he’s still intelligent. Still hotter than anything. His head tilts as Lip moves in for another kiss. And for the life of him he doesn’t know why a small part of him objects at all.

He allows Lip to tear the shirt off him before tackling him onto the bed, almost growling with need as they fuck like it’s the first time they ever have, despite clearly having done so innumerable times. Every burning muscle on Dev’s sweaty body feels brand new as they stretch and trust like they never have before. The bed frame creaks under the weight of both men as their twins burst together into a king size bed befitting the new titanic couple.

Their wardrobes combine as Dev finds himself far more accustomed to dressing just like Lip. Graphic tees and baggy pants vacate to make room for clothes exactly like Lip wears, if not a tad larger what for Dev’s preference to be bulkier than his, only relatively, lithe lover. Memories of cowering in the shadow of his perfect roommate totally disappear as instead he clearly recalls always standing by the nothing-but-kind man’s side. Dev and Lip are a pair as they always have been, and if they have their druthers, as they always will be.

When the third alarm goes off warning the pair to quit their fun and get ready for the impending networking event for their frat, Lip finally pushes Dev towards the shower, “C’mon now there’re gonna be associates of father there Dev, we’ve gotta look our best!” His lover rolls his eyes and laughs at Lip’s disheveled hair, “Think you might need a touch up there too Mr. Wellington-”

Forcing up Lip’s arm to get a good smell of his b.o. He smirks and mocks his boyfriend, who just like himself, smells unmistakably of sex, “Ooh man- And another shower for yourself I think?” Turning on the faucet he directs Lip in first, “two birds one stone?” Lip rolls his eyes before winking, “Never knew you were so concerned with efficiency there. As long as you’re able to control yourself so we might actually come out cleaner than we went in, you've got a deal.”

Following him in, it’s not long at all before Dev’s pressing his boner into his lover’s back. Lip just smiles and turns before pulling his head down to shampoo the massive man’s sweat-stained hair. Afterwards he grabs him by the jaw and shakes his head, playfully complaining, “You little horndog, what am I going to do with you…”

Despite Dev’s best attempts to have some fun, the pair eventually get all washed up and head out to the door only a few minutes later than planned. Dressed as well as they can be with what limited time they had, they wander off to the event hand in hand, as they almost always are. For the first time in years Dev is not burdened by his obsession, not held back by his denial. He finally allows himself to take advantage of the life he has found himself in, to feel the love of the man he has found himself with.

Lip of course never felt on anything besides equal footing with his roommate. While the Devon of the past may eventually have shed his self-conscious nature on his own, that he was blown out of his shell supernaturally is all the better for his relationship with the Wellington scion. As they catch the eyes of every guest at the party, no one can say they are not perfect for each other. Feeling his hand clasped in Phillip’s, Dev smiles as he is finally able to feel peace.

#male tf #reality change #personality change #male transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #muscle tf

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bodyhopper-files · 3 months ago

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Not going to need a tutor.

The frat house was a jock kingdom, and Derek, their god, ruled with broad shoulders and slick charm. I was the geeky tutor, jerking off to visions of being him. During a late-night cram session, I laced his energy drink with serum. He slumped, his body becoming a perfect mold before my eyes. I climbed into his skin, his thick thighs and veiny arms reshaping me. In the frat bathroom, I worship Derek’s abs, his stubbled face now mine. I text his girlfriend, Olivia, and she’s begging for me—him—between the sheets. Later, I hook up with Caleb Simmons, a twink I’ve wanted to fuck forever. He's always acted like he's too good for me, but now his hands are clawing all over Derek’s jock body—my jock body. Derek's not going to need a tutor any more. My brain’s calling the shots, and this cock’s fucking everything.

#male transformation #body hopper #possession #body theft #body suit #identity theft #nerd to jock #frat boy #male tf

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marcusspace · 4 months ago

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Brotherly swap - part 1

In the quiet solitude of his dimly lit bedroom, Timothy McAllister sat cross-legged on his twin bed, surrounded by the silent guardians of his imagination—shelves crammed with comic books, action figures, and forgotten school textbooks. The digital clock on his nightstand blinked 3:42 AM, a silent sentinel to his nocturnal habits. Tim, a self-proclaimed nerd with glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a penchant for graphic t-shirts, was lost in the realm of his favorite anime series. His eyes darted across the screen of his laptop, his heart racing with every clash of swords and whisper of a forbidden romance.

A sudden noise jolted him out of his fantasy world—the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh, muffled by a closed door. Curiosity piqued, he tiptoed out of his room, his socks making faint squeaks against the cold, hardwood floor. The noise grew louder as he approached the staircase, each step bringing him closer to the source of the mysterious sounds. The thirst that had plagued him earlier was forgotten, replaced by a burning curiosity that compelled him downstairs.

The kitchen light spilled out into the hallway, creating a stark contrast with the shadows. Tim peered sneakily, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. There, at the kitchen island, stood Brad—his stepbrother, the epitome of jock perfection with a body sculpted from football and a swagger that made heads turn. Brad must’ve just stumbled home after a night of partying and heavy drinking. Brad is standing naked in the kitchen, clearly thinking everyone is asleep, his hand was moving rhythmically, fisting his impressive uncut 9-inch cock. The sight of Brad's muscles flexing, his abs rippling with each stroke, sent a jolt of arousal through Tim. He felt a pang of envy for the power Brad's body held, the ease with which it drew attention and desire.

Tim's mouth went dry as he watched Brad's hand work over his shaft, the precum glistening under the soft glow of the pendant lights. He couldn't help but think about the fantasies he'd had—fantasies where he could experience Brad's body for himself, where he could feel the strength and virility that seemed so far out of reach. But this was real, and Tim knew he should look away. Yet, he remained frozen, his own hand inching down to his crotch, his cock hardening at the sight of Brad's unabashed pleasure.

With a jolt of reality, Tim realized he could be caught staring. He bolted back upstairs, his cheeks flaming with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. His tiny cock strained against his pajama bottoms, demanding attention. He rushed into his room and slammed the door, his thoughts racing. He felt so ashamed—how could he be turned on by his own stepbrother? It wasn't just the taboo; it was the stark contrast between Brad's jock body and his own lanky, unathletic frame.

Tim flopped onto his bed, his hand trembling as it found its way into his pants. He couldn't stop thinking about Brad's cock, the way it had filled his hand so completely. He began to stroke himself, imagining what it would be like to have that kind of power, that kind of presence. He thought of Brad, sweaty and spent after a grueling football practice, his muscles begging for relief. The fantasy grew more vivid—Brad, helpless and needy, turning to Tim for comfort.

Tim's hand moved faster, his breath hitching in his throat as he pictured Brad's face contorted in pleasure. In his mind's eye, Brad's handsome features were a mix of surprise and gratitude as Tim took him into his mouth, his tiny cock forgotten in the face of his stepbrother's overwhelming manhood. The fantasy was intoxicating, a heady blend of the forbidden and the desired. His hand was a blur, his strokes becoming more erratic as the image of Brad's cock grew larger and larger in his mind.

With a strangled moan, Tim came, the sensation of release flooding through him like a tidal wave. He didn't bother to clean up the mess, too lost in the aftermath of his climax to care about the sticky residue on his hand and stomach. He lay there, panting, the room spinning slightly from the rush of adrenaline and embarrassment. Eventually, his eyes grew heavy and he succumbed to sleep, his last thoughts a jumble of Brad's body and his own secret longings.

The next morning, Tim woke with a start, his body feeling... different. He sat up, and the world tilted alarmingly. He reached out to steady himself, and his hand encountered something unfamiliar—his own hand, but it was larger, more muscular. His eyes shot to his reflection in the mirror opposite his bed, and what he saw took his breath away. He was in Brad's body.

Tim couldn't believe it—his fantasy had come to life. He rolled out of bed, his new muscles protesting the movement with a delightful stretch. He stumbled over to the mirror, his legs unaccustomed to the bulk of Brad's muscular frame. His eyes widened with wonder as he took in the sight of Brad's reflection. The broad chest, the rock-hard abs, the powerful arms, and the proud erection that jerked in response to his touch. He tentatively reached down to grasp Brad's cock, his heart racing as he felt its heavy warmth in his hand.

Tim couldn't resist exploring further. He flexed the bicep, watching the muscle bulge and dance in the early morning light. He ran his hand over the flat expanse of Brad's stomach, feeling the ridges of his abs, the trail of hair that led to his groin. He stepped closer to the mirror, his gaze lingering on the reflection of Brad's face, now his own. He touched his cheek, the stubble rough against his fingertips. His hand trailed down to Brad's chest, feeling the thump of a heart that was now his, the thrill of power surging through veins that had never felt so strong.

With one hand, he began to stroke the cock that was now his own. It felt alien, yet incredibly arousing. The sensation was magnified, as if his own desires had been amplified by the sheer size of his new member. His other hand roamed over the landscape of Brad's body, tracing the contours of his broad shoulders, the firmness of his ass. He couldn't believe the sensation—his fantasy was playing out in real life. He was the jock now, the one with the power to turn heads and command attention.

Tim's eyes remained glued to the mirror as he jerked off Brad's cock, watching the way it moved in his hand, the way his new body responded to his touch. He felt a thrill of power as he manipulated it, watching the shadows play across the muscles he had once envied from afar. The hand that was once so inexperienced now moved with surprising confidence, guided by Brad's own body's instinctive knowledge. He felt the beginnings of another orgasm build, a warmth spreading through him that was more intense than anything he had ever felt before.

Suddenly, he heard a noise from downstairs—Brad's voice, but it was high-pitched and panicked. Tim froze, his hand still wrapped around Brad's cock. What was going on? He had to find out. He stumbled to the door, his legs unsteady in this new form. His heart thudded in his chest as he descended the stairs, trying to process what was happening.

As he approached the kitchen, he could make out Brad's frantic cries. "What the fuck?! What did you do to me?!" Tim peeked around the corner, his eyes widening in horror and fascination. There was Brad, his body now in Tim's place, flailing around the kitchen in a pair of Tim's oversized glasses, looking utterly lost. Tim had to stifle a laugh—his stepbrother was now the one out of his element.

"I... I don't know what's happening!" Brad's voice, coming from Tim's smaller body, was a high-pitched squeak that seemed to echo off the walls. He stumbled around the kitchen, bumping into chairs and knocking over a vase. Tim felt a twinge of pity, watching Brad struggle with his new reality.

But the pity quickly turned into a giddy excitement as he realized that he was no longer the nerd. He was the jock, the one who could bend the world to his will. The one who could get whatever he wanted. And what he wanted, more than anything, was to live out his wildest fantasies in Brad's body.

Tim took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen, his new body moving with a grace that was both alien and thrilling. Brad's eyes went wide with shock as he took in Tim's new form. "What the fuck, Tim?" he squeaked.

"Well, well, well," Tim said, a smirk playing on Brad's full lips. "Looks like we've swapped places." He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the sight of Brad in his own skin—so small and fragile. "I guess the universe has a sense of humor after all."

Brad looked up at him with a mix of fear and anger. "Make it stop," he demanded, his voice still not his own. "This isn't funny!"

Tim just chuckled, the sound deep and resonant in Brad's body. "Oh, but it is," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "It's more than funny, it's a dream come true." He strode over to Brad, towering over him. "Imagine all the things I can do with this body." He flexed his bicep, watching Brad's eyes follow the movement with a mix of awe and dread.

"You can call me Brad now," Tim said, his voice a commanding rumble. "And I'll call you Tim. It's only fair, right?"

Brad's eyes darted around the kitchen, his mind racing. He had to get out of this situation, had to get back into his own body. But how? He had seen enough sci-fi movies to know that the geeky protagonist usually had some kind of ace up their sleeve, but all he had was Tim's scrawny body and a head full of football stats.

Tim, now Brad, took a step closer, his new body exuding confidence with every movement. "Come on, little bro," he said, his voice a mockery of Brad's usual cocky drawl. "Let's not make a scene." He reached out to pat Brad's shoulder, his hand swallowing Tim's delicate frame. "You'll get used to it."

Brad shrank away, his eyes darting to the floor. "What do you want?" he whispered, his voice barely recognizable as Tim's.

Tim, reveling in his newfound power, leaned in closer, his breath hot against Brad's ear. "Oh, you know what I want," he murmured, his hand drifting down to Brad's crotch. "But first, let's go get you cleaned up. You can't face the day like this."

With surprising gentleness, Tim guided Brad to the bathroom, watching as his stepbrother's body moved clumsily in the unfamiliar confines of Tim's smaller frame. He couldn't resist the urge to run his hand along Brad's ass, feeling the firm muscles that he had so often envied. Brad flinched, his eyes flashing with a mix of fear and anger. "Cut it out!" he snapped.

Tim just smirked, his hand lingering. "Don't worry, I know you're straight," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm not, and now I've got your body. So let's make the most of it, shall we?"

Brad's cheeks flushed, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't believe what was happening. "This isn't right," he protested weakly. "We can't just... swap lives like this."

Tim, now in Brad's body, grinned. "Why not?" He leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You've had your fun with the cheerleaders and the football games. It's my turn now." He stepped back, admiring his reflection in the mirror. "And don't worry, I'll take good care of your body." His hand drifted down to cup Brad's crotch, his eyes never leaving Brad's face. "In fact, I've got a whole new set of rules for it."

Brad felt a surge of anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "You can't just—"

Tim cut him off with a wave of Brad's hand. "Oh, but I can. And I will. Now, let's talk about your old life." He leaned against the sink, Brad's body looking eerily relaxed in Tim's usual slump. "What was her name? Your, um, my girlfriend, I mean."

"Her name is none of your business," Brad spat back, his voice unsteady.

Tim chuckled, the sound deep and resonant in Brad's body. "Well, now it is," he said, stroking Brad's cheek with the back of his hand. "I mean, I'm going to be living your life now. It's only fair that I know all your little secrets."

Brad's eyes narrowed, his hands balled into fists. "What are you saying?"

Tim, now Brad, leaned in closer, his grin wicked. "I'm saying," he began, his hand tracing the line of Brad's jaw, "that from now on, Brad here is going to be exploring his... let's call it his 'alternative' side." He watched Brad's face contort with disgust, his new body flushing with excitement at the thought. "You're going to be the one going to prom with the hottest guy instead of the prom queen."

Brad's eyes widened with horror. "You can't do this to me!"

Tim, now in Brad's body, chuckled darkly. "Why not? You've had your fun with the ladies. Now it's time for me to have some fun with the... boys." He winked, his hand sliding down to Brad's waist, the touch electric and unwelcome. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to give you plenty of stories to tell."

Brad's mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. He had to find a way to reverse the swap, to get back into his own body before things went too far. "We need to find out how this happened," he said, his voice shaking with fear. "There has to be a way to fix it."

Tim, now in Brad's body, just shrugged. "Why bother?" he said, his tone laced with nonchalance. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me." He flexed his new biceps, watching them bulge in the mirror. "I've got everything I've ever wanted."

#male body swap #male body switch #body swap #body switch #straight to gay #jock to nerd #nerd to jock #step brothers #ai generated

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captainmalewriter · 5 months ago

Text

The Jock Spell

With bated breath and blurry vision, Jeremy(?) stumbled over to the nearest mirror in the locker room. He looked at himself in the mirror while using the counter to hold himself up, and his jaw dropped when he saw his reflection.

“No, this wasn’t supposed to happen… Is that me?”

A couple of weeks ago, Jeremy Nguyen was just an average nerd with nothing particularly remarkable about him. He had a deep interest in all things fantasy-related. He graduated from college with relatively high marks and worked as a science teacher at his old high school. It wasn’t an exciting life by any means, but Jeremy was content with his simple, happy life.

Aside from his usual nerdy hobbies, Jeremy had also started regularly hitting the gym ever since the new year rolled around. Sure he couldn’t lift more than 10 pounds and got tired after only about 8 minutes of light cardio, but it was the thought that counts. Not that it really mattered to Jeremy anyway. He wasn’t interested in becoming a full-blown gym rat or anything like that. Jeremy only started exercising so that his doctor wouldn’t give him yet another lecture about his health during his yearly physical.

Jeremy pulled up to the gym one early afternoon. He normally went to the gym at night due to his busy work schedule as a teacher. However, thanks to an obscure local holiday, the schools were closed and he had the day off. Jeremy decided to switch up his usual routine and work out in the afternoon instead. He walked inside, did his warm-up stretching, and began his workout with some light hammer curls. The gym was surprisingly very packed that afternoon, especially compared to how empty it was at night. There were people everywhere!

As Jeremy continued his workout, he noticed his gaze kept coming back to one particular man just across the free weights area from him.

The guy was absolutely jacked from head to toe! Standing at 6’2” tall, he made a lot of other people in the gym look tiny by comparison. Jeremy watched with great awe as the muscular Adonis hit shoulders with dumbbells he could only ever dream of lifting off the ground, let alone work out with!

However, despite the man’s amazing physique, Jeremy wasn’t attracted to him. He never liked the muscular look in men. Wasn’t really his type at all. Yet at the same time, Jeremy couldn’t stop looking at him for some reason. The man looked vaguely familiar. Jeremy racked his brain but couldn’t place his finger on it. It was weird. He tried ignoring him and just focusing on his workout, but then the man did something that made him remember exactly who he was. Near them was an overweight man who was struggling to get through a rep with just the barbell. The man watched him from afar and sneered like it was the funniest thing in the world. It was that cocky smirk that made bad old memories come flooding back in.

The man’s name was Jared Taylor.

That name and the arrogant smile that came with it haunted Jeremy for most of his teen years. To put it shortly, they had the stereotypical high school jock bully/scrawny nerd relationship you see in movies and TV. Jared loved teasing and making fun of others. Especially quiet nerds like Jeremy who played Pokémon in class after already finishing their work. Needless to say, Jeremy hated Jared with a passion. He was thrilled to finally be rid of the bastard when they graduated and went their separate ways. Jeremy went to study chemistry while Jared continued playing for some college football team.

Jeremy never would’ve expected to see his former high school bully back in town. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Jared recognized him (you would think he would after tormenting him for 4 years…) Plus, Jeremy always went to the gym during the nighttime anyway. He wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Jared Taylor ever again!

Or so he thought.

Much to Jeremy’s dismay, he kept seeing Jared every time he went to the gym. It didn’t matter if he went late at night or early in the morning before work, Jared was there— working out with some of the heaviest dumbbells the gym had to offer.

Jeremy tried shrugging it off as mere coincidence, but his patience grew dangerously thin with every passing day he saw him. Jared’s cocky smile. His dominating presence. His haughty laugh just screamed, “I’m bigger, stronger, and just overall better than you!” Jared was already bad enough in high school, but he had only seen to have gotten worse with age!

Then, on a random Saturday, Jeremy decided he had finally had enough. It was time someone stepped up and knocked the arrogant asshole down a peg or two. And who better to do it than the nerd he loved bullying every day?

And so, Jeremy devised a plan to rid Jared of the one thing he loved more than trolling: his muscles. Jeremy scoured through his massive collection of fantasy books and trinkets, searching for the magic he would need to pull off his plan. There were plenty of naysayers who didn't believe in magical powers, but Jeremy was never one of those muggles. He believed in magic ever since he was a kid and never stopped, even as he grew up.

After extensive searching, Jeremy finally found a very old book of spells from back when he used to play D&D. The book puffed out a cloud of dust as Jeremy opened it for the first time in forever. An eerie smile emerged on Jeremy’s face as he read up on a spell designed to reverse a character’s stats and build. It was exactly what he needed to get revenge on Jared.

Once he memorized how to perform the spell, Jeremy left for the gym that same night. Just as expected, Jared was there too.

Luckily for Jeremy, the gym was empty that Saturday night, save for about a dozen people. The fewer potential witnesses, the better.

Jared was busy hitting shoulders in the free weights area. Jeremy positioned himself so that he was just across from him in the cardio section. He had a clear shot of him. Once he was sure there was absolutely nobody watching, Jeremy set his plan into action. He used his fingernail to scratch the tip of his pointer finger until he bled out a couple of drops, then smeared it with his thumb and forefinger. Once that was done, Jeremy focused on his target and recited the spell.

aketay awayyay isthay ansmay onfidencecay ybay urningtay imhay intoyay ethay ingthay ehay ateshay ethay ostmay

Jeremy’s finger shined a brilliant red as he finished casting the spell. A beam of light shot out of him as soon as he recited the last syllable, heading directly towards Jared. Jeremy smiled maniacally, knowing he was finally going to get his revenge after years of torment, though unfortunately, his pleasure was only short-lived. His smile faded as he watched Jared bend over to pick up a dumbbell, causing the spell to miss its intended target. Instead, the light hit the mirror, ricocheted, and hit Jeremy square in the chest, knocking him off the treadmill.

God-DAMN IT!! How could I mess up such an easy shot!?

Jeremy writhed in agony. He couldn’t believe his plan failed just because of a little timing slip-up. Red with embarrassment, Jeremy forced himself to get up despite the great pain he was in. As he rushed over to the guy’s locker room to hide himself, the spell activated.

Jeremy held his arms to his stomach as an intense wave of nausea washed over him. A strange warmth was radiating from his torso. His walking speed slowed as Jeremy found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. Low groans and growls escaped his mouth as his chicken legs exploded with body mass growth. It felt like his legs were on fire! The muscle fibers in his legs broke down and grew back rapidly until he had legs as strong and thick as a horse. Confused at what was going on, Jeremy looked down and audibly gasped when he saw his upper body transforming right before his very eyes.

His chest puffed out as his pectorals grew and grew until he had a nice, firm set of daddy milkers. His shoulder span nearly doubled in length as the muscles in his back rapidly tore and regrew back within a matter of minutes. His arms thickened and hardened with muscle mass too. His once pencil-thin arms had become absolute cannons with biceps the size of melons and veins throbbing with strength. With a set of washboard abs to boot, Jeremy had become an insanely ripped bodybuilder— completely unrecognizable from his former skinny and weak nerd self.

“Nnnn… What’s happening to me…!?” Jeremy huffed out a moan as forced himself to keep moving. He powered through the transformation pain and made it to the locker room where he could be alone. With bated breath and blurry vision, Jeremy stumbled over to the nearest mirror in the locker room. He looked at himself in the mirror while using the counter to hold himself up, and his jaw dropped when he saw his reflection.

“No, this wasn’t supposed to happen… Is that me? And since when did I become so… Jacked?”

Jeremy’s shocked expression morphed into a grin as he inspected his new body. Although he was never a fan of the muscular jock look, his tone quickly changed now that he was the buff one admiring himself in the mirror. He was practically purring with delight as he ran his hands over his arms, savoring the feeling of new, firm muscle on his body. Jeremy's original nerdy personality began fading away with every flex of his new muscles, leaving space for his new cocky gym bro attitude.

Then, wanting to get an even better look at his body, Jeremy stripped down to just his underwear.

“Heheheh… Just LOOK AT MY MUSCLES BRO! I’M A GREEK GOD NOW!”

His voice boomed with newfound confidence as he spent well over half an hour just checking himself out. As he struck the double bicep pose, a sudden head pain brought Jeremy back down to reality.

“Huh? What the hell am I doing?” Jeremy thought to himself. He massaged his forehead as he thought about the answer to his own question. However, the more he thought about it, the more questions about who he was began to pop up.

“Who am I? What’s my name? What do I like? What do I dislike?”

He thought long and hard, but couldn’t find anything. It was like his own brain had been enshrouded in a deep fog. He kept thinking and thinking until for a brief moment, he had a glimpse of what seemed like an old memory. He was… Jeremy Nguyen? And he liked… video games, anime, and fantasy books—

He shook his head. There was no way that description was right. He wasn’t a fucking nerd. Far from it. He took a deep breath and tried remembering his identity again. This time, the correct info came flowing in like water.

His name was Isaac Nguyen and to him, working out wasn’t just a hobby but a lifestyle and a passion. He played football both in high school and in college, then dedicated his time and energy to bodybuilding once he graduated. His body was like a golden medal to him. It was his pride and joy, and he loved nothing more than getting a good pump and flexing in the mirror whenever he had the chance.

With his new identity securely established in his mind and spirit, Isaac stepped out of the locker room to finish his upper body workout for the day. As he made his way to the free weights area, he noticed some scrawny dude with glasses struggling to curl a 10-pound dumbbell. Isaac had to stifle a laugh as he walked past him.

“Heh, can’t even lift the beginner weight, what a fucking loser… Bet he spends all his time playing video games with his other dork friends. God, I can’t stand these kinds of dudes…”

As Isaac finished that thought, he ran into an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Oh shit, Jared! Where ya been, bro!?”

“Long time no see, man! Looking swole as always, big guy!!” Jared responded.

The two men pulled each other in for a bro hug. As they pulled away, Isaac felt himself hating the man he just shook hands with. It was weird. Like he had some sort of deep-rooted resentment against Jared. But that couldn’t possibly be right. Isaac and Jared were best bros since they joined the football team together back in freshman year of high school. They were basically the kings of the school back in the day!

Yes, that’s right… Isaac was a jock, just like Jared. He had always been one. Never a nerd.

Never.

#male transformation #male tf #permanent change #mental change #muscle tf #nerd to jock #personality change

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sfde8871 · 3 months ago

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Anderson Hall Rm08

“There’s no way I’m fitting into my Spider-Man costume again this Halloween. So what though, right?!?” 💪

#ai generated #young bodybuilder #college student #muscular #ai muscle #roided muscle #sweaty muscle #nerd to jock #big shoulders #bodybuilder #muscle beast #huge muscle #big biceps #college dorm #big pecs #roid acne

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alphajocklover · 2 days ago

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Could you make a coach tf where an average need is turned into a tf coach who turns other nerds into buff dumb football jocks?

I’ve reported a bit on Jock Studies before, a strange phenomenon where a beefy Coach, or even a teacher, joins a school and introduces peculiar classes that seem to brainwash the young men who attend them into becoming slutty gay Jocks. Some of the Coaches are willing agents of whatever group is going this to colleges across america, well others are older men who stood up to the mysterious group and got brainwashed, just like the Jocks, and some are even certain Jocks who showed potential and, after graduating, were ‘promoted’ to Coach. There are even some lesser Coaches known as Assistant Coaches that are somewhere between Jock and Coach. The Jock Studies Program, as I call them, seems to be very hierarchical. Jocks are always below Coaches of course, with the highest Jocks listening to even lowest Coaches. For Jocks, the size of one's muscles, their age, and the amount of time they’ve spent in the program all come together to decide where they land on the hierarchy, well the same, plus the amount of jocks they’ve recruited, all decide where a Coach lands. But with how strict the hierarchy is, it's a bit of a surprise to me that people don’t always enter it at the same place. In rare cases, a student can skip being a Jock and become a Coach right off the bat.

I can’t quite figure out what criteria someone has to fill to join the ‘Coach Accelerated Program.’ From what I can tell it's just whoever happens to catch a Coaches eye, and every Coach seems to have a different way of deciding. I’ve heard about one Coach that turns students with bad home lives into Coaches, out of some kind of empathy. I heard about another Coach who picks only the nerdiest students he can find, having some sort of philosophy about the nerdier the kid the manlier the Coach? My Uncle even met a Coach who turned one of his students into a fellow Coach after the two had fallen in love. Whatever it is though… It seems to work. I’ve looked into some of the numbers on Jock Studies transformations (Do not ask me how I got them) and the people who go straight to being Coaches actually are more successful, on average making more, better quality Jocks. It’s not just because new Coaches right away are better either. There's something about these students-turned-older-studs that is just better. Maybe it’s because they still remember, on some level, what it's like to be young? Or maybe there really is something special about those who are picked for the ‘Accelerated Program?’ No matter what it is, it's an undeniable fact that those who graduate the Accelerated Program are the best coaches around. Take these two as an example.

36 hours ago, these were Tom and Camreon, two nerdy best friends and roommates who went to a small liberal arts college in New York. Coach Stevens, the new basketball coach who had been there for a week and had only just started integrating Jock Studies into the school, had seen something in Cameron. After a long meeting with Cameron to discuss him joining the school's new program, Cameron, now Coach Cox, had agreed to join on as the school's new football coach and Dean of Jockhood. It took one phone call for him to get Tom to join the Jock Studies Program, and he is already both one of the top students, and the new Varsity Quarterback. Just another success story for the growing Jock Studies program.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #straight to gay #jock studies tf

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onelinerbust · 4 months ago

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The weight slammed down, the reverberation echoing through the gym. Kieran blinked, disoriented. One moment he was struggling with a measly 45 pounds on the bench press, the next… this. He looked down at his hands. Not his hands. These are thick, calloused, powerful. Veins snaked across his forearms like rivers on a map. He flexed, and a bicep the size of a melon bulged.

Panic fluttered in his chest, quickly overshadowed by an unfamiliar surge of confidence. He sits back up, pushing the weight away with ease. He looked around. The familiar, slightly depressing gym of the campus ini had seemingly undergone a subtle transformation. It's brighter, cleaner, and the air hummed with a different kind of energy – an energy of raw physicality.

Next to him, Daniel also sit back up with a groan that quickly morphed into a roar. He's doing the same thing - staring at his body with a mix of awe and confusion. But there's not much confusion in his eyes, more like… recognition?

"Did what?" Kieran asked, his own voice deeper, rougher than he remembered. It feels foreign in his throat. He feels like he's speaking through a megaphone.

"Dude," Daniel said, his voice a booming baritone that made Kieran jump. "Look at this! We finally did it!"

Daniel - no, Danny - flexed again, his chest rippling. "We finally look the part, man! All that work on the app... it paid off!"

App? What app? Kieran’s mind raced, trying to grasp what's happening. The last thing he remembered was messing around with that reality-bending app he found in some obscure forum. Chronivac, it said. He’d downloaded it on a whim, a late-night joke. It promised to alter reality based on user input, but he had dismissed it as some elaborate hoax. He had even drunkenly typed in his and Daniel's details and what kind of sick transformation it would be if they looked and behaved like two all-American douchebags, but he never thought this would actually happen!

Then, unexpectedly, the memories slamming into him like a tidal wave. Not memories of late-night coding sessions and rejected science fair projects. These are memories of packed frat parties, football victories, and… well, a lot of moaning and groaning from late night sexual conquests. Memories of being Kyle, the legendary party animal and Danny, the star quarterback

"Kyle, my man!" Danny clapped him on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. “Leg day next, yeah? Gotta keep these tree trunks strong.” He winked, and Kieran suddenly understood what Danny meant when he said ‘paid off’. Every woman in the gym are now looking at them, and not with the pity or disdain they were used to. No, these are looks of genuine… interest.

"Right, leg day," Kieran – no, Kyle – mumbled, trying to process the sheer audacity of what had happened. They are... them, but not them. He's still Kieran, with Kieran’s memories lurking beneath the surface, but he's also Kyle – a confident, charismatic jock with a life that seemed both incredibly appealing and terrifyingly shallow.

He feels this twinge of guilt for the life he left behind, the robotics club, the meticulously planned future. But that feeling quickly drowned out by a primal urge, a need to… dominate. It's in his blood, a fundamental part of this new, improved Kyle.

He stands up, his legs feeling impossibly strong. He looked over to Danny, this imposingly giant of a man is his best friend and also someone he really looked up to in terms of his dedication to the craft

"Let's do this," Danny said, a grin spreading across his face. Kyle sees his own reflection in the mirrored wall – messy long hair that he intended to let grow a bit more so it can become like a glorious lion mane, a chiseled jaw, and eyes that held a spark of raw, untamed energy. He smelled different too, a musky aroma that demanded attention and physique to back that up.. This is not Kieran anymore. This is Kyle Charmers, a fitting name for the charm he exudes with ease

They moved to the squat rack, drawing even more attention. A group of girls, dressed in tight leggings and sports bras, giggled and whispered as they passed. Kyle caught one of their eyes and give her a wink. She blushed and looked away, but Kyle sees the smile playing on her lips.

"See, man?" Danny said, loading plates onto the bar with effortless ease. "Chicks loves it and our bodies crave for this shit,:

Kyle swallowed, trying to reconcile the nerdy, insecure Kieran with the confident, almost arrogant Kyle. He still can sense the hum of the old Kieran in the back of his mind, the passion for circuits and code, the fear of social interaction. But the feeling is fading, replaced by the immediate, visceral thrill of being desired.

He stepped under the bar, feeling the weight settle across his traps. It's heavy, far heavier than anything he’d ever attempted before. But he didn't hesitate. He squatted, the muscles in his legs screaming in protest, but he pushed through, driven by a force he didn't understand but couldn't deny.

He stands up, the weight feeling almost light. He did it again, and again, until his legs burned and his lungs ached. Around him, the gym seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the weight, the burn, and the knowledge that he was stronger, better, more… him than he had ever been before.

After hours of intense workout, they're finally done. As they left the gym and walked towards the frat house, Kyle noticed a familiar figure sitting on a bench. It's Becca, the girl he had a crush on since freshman year. The girl who barely acknowledged his existence--- Kieran's existence. He stopped in front of her, casting a shadow over her.

Becca looked up, her eyes widening. A flush crept up her neck. "Kyle?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Becks," he said, his voice a low rumble. He ran a hand through his messy hair, a gesture that felt both natural and incredibly calculated. "Long time no see."

Becca stammered, "Wow, you… you look different, Kyle,"

Kyle smirked. "Yeah, we grow up after all. And....well, some things change." He leaned closer as he purposefully flexed his body a bit, the musky aroma of sweat and testosterone he exudes filling her nostrils. "So, what are you up to tonight?" He whispered seductively, almost like a predator lulling his prey with sense of safety

Becca bites her lip, her eyes flickering between his face and his chest. "Nothing much," she said, her voice breathless.

"Perfect," Kyle said, taking her hand. "How about we change that?"

As he leads her away, he glanced back at Danny, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing grin. Kyle grinned back. This is it. This is the life they had always dreamed of. The life they had created.

#reality change #male muscle growth #male transformation #nerd to jock #male tf #personality change

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unusualtfs · 5 months ago

Text

Public Transformation Network

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

You looked up from the online textbook you’d been reading. And up. And up. Looming over your bus seat was an absolute behemoth of a man. His black hair was slick with sweat, a clear sign he’d just been at the gym, although his beefy physique and rank musk could’ve clued you in just as easily.

“S-sorry, what?” you stammered.

The guy responded with an easygoing smile on his broad, bearded face. “Your phone. Could I borrow it for a sec? I’m visiting my bro, but my phone’s outta juice and I forget what stop to get off at. I just need to call him real quick.” His voice was deep and vacuous.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said. “Knock yourself out.” You placed your phone in his meaty bronze hand, carefully trying not to notice how dainty and pale your fingers looked compared to his sausages.

With nothing else to do, you watched awkwardly from your seat as he dialed his friend’s number. “Yo dude, it’s me,” he greeted boisterously. “Yeah I’m on the bus using this nerdy guy’s phone right now, mine fuckin’ ran out, haha…”

You blinked in outrage, and embarrassment. “Nerdy guy”??? Just because you wore a white button-down, and had a mousy brown mop and a complete lack of facial hair, and your entire body was skinnier than his arm, didn’t make you a nerd! You had a leather knapsack — those were cool, weren’t they? Anyways.

As the bus continued on, you caught snippets of the conversation unfolding in front of you. Evidently, the guy had gotten hopelessly turned around, and his friend was trying to figure out how to get him to his destination. Privately, you thought this seemed too complex for his simple brain to comprehend.

“Ok wait, so you’re saying I need to be on the 115? And then take Johnson Street to the 67 line? Uh-huh, uh-huh. Gotcha. Thanks, bro. That means I should get off on…” He glanced at the route map above you, and you could see his thick head visibly struggling to make sense of it. Then his brown eyes widened comically. “Shit, this stop right here!”

Sure enough, the bus had been decelerating, and now it came to a complete stop. The guy pushed his way to the crowded exit, still absorbed in his conversation. You noted with disgust that he had your phone lodged between his bristly cheek and his broad shoulder, both of which were sheened with sweat. Then it hit you — he was about to leave with your phone!

“Wait!” you said, trying to get his attention. You hated how squeaky your voice sounded compared to his bovine bass, but still, it worked.

“Huh? Oh right,” he said. Speaking into the phone, he said, “Fuck bro, gotta go. See ya soon, king.”

Then, he hung up and turned his attention to you. “Yo, thanks so much, little guy!” At this point, he was too close to the door, and there were too many people pushing to exit, for him to turn around and give your phone back. So instead, he stood up straight, braced his knees, and lobbed your phone at you with a dumb, cocky grin. “Catch, bro!”

Oh my god, what was this idiot thinking? You were going to miss, and then your phone would hit the floor and shatter into a million pieces, or it would smack someone’s head and they’d sue you for everything you had, or…

You gripped something in your hand. Peeking one eye open, you found that your phone was secure in your grip. Despite your lacking hand-eye coordination, you had somehow caught your phone, acting purely on instinct.

Then you immediately laid it on your lap, because it was slick with sweat and had thoroughly absorbed the guy’s scent. As you leaned down to clean it, your phone screen lit up with a notification. It was a message from an unknown number.

wait did u say u we’re on the 103

BRUH u werent supposed to get off yet lmaooo 💀💀

You internally groaned. Did that meathead’s friend think he was just going to keep your phone forever? He probably did; he was obviously just as much of a dumb gym bro as his friend.

You prepared to type in a polite response informing him that he had the wrong number, but suddenly the bus lurched and you lost control of your phone for a moment. Glancing back at your screen, you realized that you had accidentally pressed send:

bro just gimme ur addy i’ll put it into maps

That was absolutely not what you had typed in. You tended to be pretty dexterous, so you had no idea how that had happened. Although… you looked at your hands consideringly. They were brown and veiny, with wide and hairy fingers. You supposed it was hard to type on a phone keyboard with massive mitts like yours. Briefly, you thought that your hands seemed disproportionately large against the rest of you, that they weren’t supposed to be this big and manly, but you dismissed it, because why wouldn’t they be?

Anyways, now that that encounter was over, you could go back to studying. You scrolled through your phone, trying to locate your Kindle app. But it didn’t seem to be anywhere. Frustrated, you swiped back and forth across your home screen, not noticing how each tap sent a jolt up your body.

Swipe. You felt movement on either side of you — which you quickly realized was caused by the passengers sitting next to you. You couldn’t avoid brushing up against them with how broad your square shoulders were. It was a good problem to have.

Swipe. Absent-mindedly, you dragged your giant paws across your equally giant pecs. You didn’t know what made you feel more virile — scratching your tangled black curls of sweaty chest hair, or accidentally brushing against your protruding dark nipples. Oh wait, you knew the answer — scratching your tangled black treasure trail and brushing against your washboard abs.

Swipe. You splayed your tree trunk legs further out, stomping your size 14 feet on the floor of the bus. You didn’t care if the other passengers thought you were rude — with thighs this thick, it was impossible not to manspread, especially for someone as well-endowed as you. A wet protein fart trumpeted from your inflated ass, but you took it in stride.

Swipe. The bus lurched again, and for a moment it felt like you had leaped half a foot into the air. But your line of sight never shifted back down, and why would it? You had always been tall — just like you had always had perfectly sculpted lats and traps, and a thick bull neck, and…

Your swiping was interrupted by a notification: 5% battery remaining. You furrowed your caveman brow in confusion. Hadn’t you left your place with a full charge? How had it run out so quickly? As you were thinking, you grabbed your squirt bottle from the pocket of your gym bag and took a swig.

Duh, your gym bag — you’d been at the gym! That explained the phone battery, then; you liked to listen to workout podcasts or mindlessly scroll through TikTok as you worked out, and with how long you spent at the gym each day, more often than not you walked out of there with much less charge than you’d started with.

Judging by the sweat leaking through your black mesh tank top, though — and not to mention your musky stench — it had been an especially good session today. It had been an arm day, and you silently admired your hard work, the way your biceps and triceps swelled with power and your veiny forearms pulsed in time with your heartbeat, all wrapped up in a layer of thick black hair and perfectly tan coloring. Yeah. Those were some impressive arms you had.

A text notification popped up at the top of your screen:

bro how do you not know this by now 😭

its 992 carter st apt#208

Oh yeah, you’d been so distracted by your muscles that you’d forgotten why you were on this bus. You were going to visit your best bro later today, and your license was suspended from the last time you two had gotten a little too crunk, so public transit it was.

You glanced at the route map above you, trying to figure out the best way to get there. So you were on the red squiggly line on the left side of the image, which meant… no wait… maybe you were on that green dot in the middle? Your eyes glazed over, and your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy. While that was a feeling you were very much used to, and even proud of, right now you were annoyed. Why’d they have to make these picture thingies so fucking confusing anyway? Whatever, that was why they’d invented Google Maps.

Copying over your friend’s address, you attempted to navigate to the map app. But your thick finger missed the icon entirely, instead opening your photo gallery. The most recent photo was a selfie you’d taken at the gym today, and you took a moment to admire yourself. You felt your blocky, bearded face form the exact same cocky smirk that was in the photo. Hell yeah, you were one sexy motherfucker.

Suddenly, the image turned black. You’d run out of power. You stared for a second at the face reflected on the blank phone screen, identical to the one in the photo.

“Fuck,” you muttered in your deep, slow voice, scratching your temple with one finger like a Neanderthal. You hadn’t gotten to put your friend’s address into Google Maps, and you definitely were too dumb to get there on your own. What to do?

Slowly, painstakingly, an idea formed in your thick meathead mind. Maybe… you could… use someone else’s phone… to call your friend up and ask him how to get there! You scanned the bus for people to ask. There were lots of people on their phones, but for some reason, one passenger stood out to you. He was shrimpy and short, sitting a few seats away from you in the opposite row as he tapped away at some mobile game.

Pocketing your dead device, you rose from your seat and swaggered over to the little guy.

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

#male tf #male transformation #mental transformation #personality change #mental tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #muscle growth tf #muscle tf #getting dumber #intelligence loss #unaware

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rowdy317 · 5 months ago

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Geeky Flab to Beefy Slab-Always fun gaming with @fantasymuscleai

#ai generated #ai digital art #ai hunks #ai muscle #ai hunk #bodybuilder #clothed bodybuilder #bodybuilders #bodybuilding #extremely muscled men #nerd to jock

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malebodytf · 4 months ago

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This scrawny dude just stepped into the gym, barely able to lift his own weight, arms like twigs, feeling out of place among the ripped guys around him. He shuffled awkwardly, eyes darting around, when he spotted it—a cap, just lying there on a bench. He felt strangely attracted to it, like it was calling to him. He didn’t know why, he just had to put it on.

And then—boom.

His body exploded with mass, muscles surging outward like they’d been waiting for this moment. His arms thickened, veins popping. His chest swelled, his shoulders broadened, and his shirt stretched tight across his torso before it rode up, unable to contain his new size. A deep, scratchy laugh rumbled from his throat as a heavy beard sprouted across his jaw.

His mind fuzzed over, losing all that useless shit—books, numbers, thoughts that weren’t about getting huge. What had he even worried about before? Didn’t matter. What mattered was the iron. The pump. The burn.

Yeah, bruh. He belonged here. He’d been coming to this park for years, hadn’t he? Everyone knew him, respected him, admired the beast he was. He was the king here.

#reality change #mental change #male transformation #himbo #male tf #nerd to jock #jockification #muscle tf #muscle transformation #dumber tf

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dumbroski · 10 months ago

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Gym Opening.

With the amazing @kylestfs

The time was 9 in the morning, Louis finished breakfast with his mother, since his father was currently on a business trip, he got up from the chair and washed his dishes, His mother looked at him with pride, she had raised a kind, cute and responsible boy.

"Okay mom, it's time for me to go to school because I don't want to be late" he approached his mom and gave his a kiss on the cheek while grabbing his backpack.

"Have a nice day, son!" His mother shouted as Louis left the house and headed to school, once he entered his friends greeted him and began to talk about movies and video games, until the bell rang, so everyone went to their classrooms.

The hours passed, Louis had lunch at school with his classmates, took some more classes and so the day went by and now the clock read 3 pm, Indicating that it was time to leave, the bells rang and so everyone began to gather their things and began to go home

"Hey Louis" his friend said as he ran up behind him and gave him a small pat on the back.

"What's up, John? Do you have something to tell me? I need to get home and start doing the homework the teacher's gave us."

"No, nothing, I just wanted to ask you if you would like us to go together" John commented.

"Is that it? No problem, I can go alone, you don't need to accompany me, I'm not a little kid." Louis started laughing

"Well, if you want it that way, no problem, see you tomorrow, take care!" John commented as he left school and headed home.

Louis closed his locker, put his backpack on his back and started walking towards his house, he left school and headed towards his house, as he was walking he passed near a new gym.

"Wow, another gym, we don't need more of those, we need more comic book stores" Louis muttered to himself And before he could take another step, someone behind him covered his eyes and pulled him into the gym.

Once Louis was inside, he felt himself being sat in a chair, his hands tied, and he could clearly hear the gym door being locked.

"Help! Who are you and what do you want from me?"

The guy who had blindfolded him removed the blindfold so that Louis could see who had "kidnapped" him.

When the blindfold was removed, he saw that he was inside the gym.

The light in the gym was somewhat warm but at the same time somewhat dark, The guy felt a little scared, he wanted to ask for help but he knew that the boy in front of him could knock him down quickly, In front of him was a tall, muscular, bearded guy, he looked like one of those guys people called "jocks" and was able to confirm it, since it gave off a smell... Strange.

"He smelled like sweat..." Louis murmured.

But an acidic sweat and he also smelled like some semen, the smell of the gym was very intense and that made he head spin, When he looked around there were some exercise machines, benches, weights and all that stuff.

"To start with... You might be wondering, Who am I? Why did I kidnap you, well, I'm shake, the owner of this new gym I am 30 years old and why did I kidnap you? Well, We don't need such disappointing and nerdy people in this world, ya know?"

Louis didn't know what he meant by that, he wanted to get up from the chair to hit him but... His hands were tied and also...

The height of both was very obvious, the boy was super small next to the muscular guy, the nerd was barely 1'45 while the boy in front of him seemed to be 1'88, So even if I wanted to I couldn't knock it down.

"What do you mean the world doesn't need people like me? Explain yourself properly" Louis said in an angry tone.

"Well, you'll see," Shake said with a mocking smile, as he began to untie his hands.

The moment he untied his hands, Louis stood up and tried to run, but unfortunately Shake grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.

"Not so fast, nerd"

While with one arm he held Louis' shoulder, the other arm lifted him up and directed Louis towards his hairy, sweaty armpit.

"You inhale the smell, bro... Don't stop, soon you'll be a dumb, muscled guy like me... And above all, my frequent bro"

While Shake was saying that to Louis, Louis was trying to get away from him, but something told him that he wouldn't stop smelling his armpit so he kept doing it, while shake began to say words that Louis did not understand.

"you are a straight brother"

"You like girls"

"You like the smell that your big muscular body gives off"

"That makes you more masculine and manly"

As Shake said those words, Louis began to change.

His straight black hair began to turn a brownish hue as its shape changed from straight to wavy, He also began to grow in height, almost matching the size of the guy from the gym.

His face began to creak a little, as all the little baby fat began to oxidize to give him a more masculine and mature face, His pimples disappeared, his jaw became more defined while his skin also began to soften, His small lips began to enlarge and become fleshy, his nose changed, his brown eyes also changed to a brown color.

His skinny body began to burn, as he began to grow and muscles began to emerge, his clothes could not hold on any longer and tore as his shredded clothes fell to the ground revealing his new body.

He now had two big, juicy pecs, while his shoulders became broader, his torso expanded, his arms became more toned while now his triceps and biceps looked good, His back also expanded and grew giving him a back carved by the gods themselves.

His belly that was thin, now had a pack of 8 well-worked abs while on his sides he had some v-lines, As he continued to sniff Shake's armpit, his Adam's bell grew larger and stood out even more.

"That's it bro... Change and keep smelling my scent, I know you like it"

The changes were still happening, now his legs began to hurt, while his thighs grew to the size of a tree trunk, his calves also exploded, His jeans ripped as they could no longer hold the size, revealing his large, muscular legs as some brown hair emerged from them.

"You're a bro, all your friends are bro's, you're a frat guy"

"You love to leave all your candy inside the girls, you love to breed"

The moment Shake said that, Louis could feel a little excitement in his cock, he could feel it starting to grow in size and so it did, His cock began to grow and thicken, its vulnerable size of 10 centimeters stopped growing, now he had a large anaconda of 20 centimeters, erect and sore.

Now, his feet began to burn and hurt, as they grew in size, his toes lengthened while his feet gained some more flesh to make them look more masculine and worthy of a athletic man, And just like all his clothes, his shoes and socks also ripped off revealing his cute and juicy 15cm feet, The moment his feet came out of his sneakers, they began to give off an unpleasant and stinky smell, just like Shake smelled.

"You love the gym, your whole life is the gym, the girls, your brothers, the parties and the alcohol"

"You hate nerds, you make fun of them and you hit them"

After that, Shake let him go, Louis was surprised to see himself in the mirror that the gym had in front of him.

"What have you done to me!?... Wait- my voice... It sounds different, it sounds deeper"

"Of course bro, you already saw yourself in the mirror, right? A muscular and stinky bro ike us must have a deep, masculine voice, I just need the finishing touch"

Shake took a perfume out of his shorts pocket and began spraying it all over the gym.

"wait, what are you-"

The moment Louis inhaled it, his mind began to blur as his head ached, He put his hands on his head and began to growl.

"Uhh...."

His old memories were beginning to fade, he tried to hold on to them, but the scent of the perfume was too strong, new memories began to flood her mind.

He began to remember that he was always a spoiled child, he was always in the best schools and that his parents were millionaires, he remembered the countless times he had left several girls pregnant.

He began to remember that he started training at the age of 18 and now at 21 he had a body that he loved.

He remembered that he was in college and in the best fraternity, he remembered the countless parties he had had with his brothers.

His mind began to fill with girls and their big boobs, making him feel needy.

Brown hair began to grow in his armpits while a sweaty smell began to come out of them.

He started thinking about his girlfriend and her big boobs, making him came, saying goodbye to his old self.

"Bro! "You've made a mess in my gym"

"Sorry bro, but I couldn't help but cum at the thought of my girlfriend, but it shouldn't bother you, this will give a unique smell to your gym" Jake laughed as he punched him on the shoulder

"Whatever bro, here, go put these pants and boxers on, it's time to train"

Jake grabbed the gray-colored sweatpants and the boxers, headed toward the locker room. Once there he put on his pants and boxers, he saw some AirPods that he recognized as his own, He put them on while grabbing his phone that was in his locker.

"damn it, I look so goooooddd, My girlfriend is very lucky to have me"

#gay to straight #male tf #personality change #jock tf #nerd to jock #male transformation #reality change #hypnosis

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