czascornertfs - Tumblr blog

czascornertfs · 2 months

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A Defector's Story

[DISCLAIMER: Some anon requested this, and I honestly found the idea pretty interesting to explore outside of the usual sexual stuff I write on here. ALSO this is in no way portraying North Korea in a glorifying way, and the story below is purely for fantasy. I do not condone anything North Korea is doing, and I still wish for their citizens' liberation from tyranny.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"곧 우리 중 하나가 될 것입니다..."

The soldier's tone was firm, his low voice drilling itself into Hans Moretti's ears...along with a cold sharp pain in his neck. Hans had found himself deep in the hermit kingdom's countryside after he answered a call about some "strange geological phenomena". A brilliant geoscientist, he and a few of his associates flew into Pyongyang a week earlier, but Hans was assigned a solo trip to some random forest. As he was mapping the area, a group of soldiers gradually formed a small crowd, curious at the strange sight of survey tools and a man who absolutely did not belong. And Hans was annoyed. Even more so when some of the soldiers began stepping into the survey area and walking past him while making silly faces. He was fine with it, until one of them purposefully made him trip and fall to the ground. In a fit of rage (and a good dose of being absolutely terrified at being watched in a country like North-fucking-Korea), he grabbed the soldier by the collar and threw him to the ground. His comrades rushed to his aide, as two others quickly pulled Hans aside to where he was now. The jab to his neck felt immensely painful, as he felt his vision slowly darken and his knees buckle to the ground. As he stared up, he saw the sneering face of the soldier above him, spitting in his face just before he drifted off to sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he awoke many hours later, he found himself in some strange building. He found himself sleeping on some cold hard wooden bench, as he sat up and shifted his boots on the floor. W-wait, boots? Hans immediately got up as he found himself wearing some sort of uniform, very much like the one the soldiers wore. He looked at his hands trying to see if they did something to him when he noticed how much callus they had. Sure, he worked with the earth, but these felt different, as did his skin color which had now developed a sort of tan. Holding his hand out against the sunlight, he stared in disbelief as he felt his breaths become deeper. He had somehow turned into one of them.

"아-아니... 므-뭐...?" Hans felt his voice tremble as he heard how different he sounded. Gone was his usually higher-pitched tone, replaced with a deeper, gruffier one. He tried speaking English to himself but all that came out were a jumbled series of syllables barely resembling a "This can't be real". "You enjoying yourself?" He heard a voice speak in English from the opposite side of the room as he tilted his head towards it. It was the soldier he pushed to the ground. He knew the sounds, but for some reason it made zero sense to him. Finally the soldier laughed as he repeated himself in Korean, to which Hans responded by shaking his head and slapping himself in the face to see if this was all some nightmare. "동무, 모든 것을 잊어버리라고 명령합니다." (Comrade, I order you to forget everything.")

As soon as the soldier spoke those words, a piercing headache erupted within Hans's head as he literally felt his brain start rewiring itself. Tears flowed down his face as he started forgetting more and more about his past life, now slowly being replaced with memories of growing up in the harsh environment. He remembered the brutal cold of winters gone by, and how he and his comrades remained so close together in the barracks to pass the time trapped indoors by the winds and pelting rain. Soon enough, he started forgetting his own name. Hans...

Han...

Hanj...

Han-jae.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hans's colleagues were informed that his survey had been completed and had flown back earlier than expected to his home country, and they were none the wiser. Hans was kind of a loner after all. Meanwhile, Han-jae was back at the barracks, standing outside ready to greet whatever tourist was intrepid enough to visit his country.

He scrutinizes every face that passes by, his head filled with nothing but the commands of his superiors and...well nothing else really.

“동무, 혀를 내밀어보세요!” (Comrade, stick your tongue out!) It was spoken in a condescending and mocking tone, yet he was compelled to follow through with it. After all, he was a good soldier, and he certainly didn't want to disappoint his superiors by insubordination.

But deep inside his mind, a piece of the old Hans remained, itching to find it's way out by any means possible. And only a few weeks later, a chance encounter would help him escape.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was when a couple of tourists came to the barracks to take some pictures when he saw it: an iPhone. The image of the phone suddenly materialized itself in Han-jae's mind as slowly but surely, hazy memories of his past self came back.

It had been so long since he thought about such things, and Han-jae simply stared in quiet contemplation. Sure, he still had zero clue who he was, but he sure as hell knew he had to leave. Hans was all but gone, but Han-jae knew he had something to do about these memories as curiosity about the outside world became overwhelming. He had to leave.

And so a day later in the dead of night, he managed to escape his barracks and made a long and dangerous trek up to the Yalu River, managing to avoid suspicion and being spotted by the patrolmen who guarded the border. After crossing it by sunrise, he secretly hopped on some train where he was greeted by a few scared English and French tourists who just had a trip to his country a few hours back. After some failed attempts at communication, Han-jae was locked in one of the roomettes by the authorities, along with the other tourists who stayed to help this defector. One of them was especially fond of Han-jae, giving him some food and water, and a small wipe for the rivers of sweat rolling down his face. After being handed a small tablet, Han-jae stared at it in pure confusion before some of the people on board with him slowly and eagerly taught him how to use it. Opening the translator, he typed out something with shaky fingers before giving it to one of the tourists with a shy smile.

"반갑습니다. 고맙다."

Han-jae was free. Sighing sharply to himself, he laid his head back on the seat and chuckled silently.

"씨발...."

#male tf #reality change #racial change #male transformation

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czascornertfs · 2 months

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"Hick"

"Simon says...YOU'RE A DUMB HICK!" Nick found himself at the secluded farm trying to scout out abandoned structures in the countryside. His first mistake was being caught by the farm operator. The second was him calling the guy "a dumb hick". The third? Not knowing he was mentally weak enough to be hypnotized and transformed over the course of the week. His IQ of 110 being toned down to a nice and suitable 60. His body bulked up and swelled with muscle as his brain became filled with nothing but admiration and obedience for his owner. And of course some bits and pieces of farming for good measure. Just the basics so he doesn't do any more thinking...or talking.

Nick chortled at the game as his deep guffaw echoed across the empty field, mindlessly running his fingers over his throbbing cock which had already started spurting a slow steady stream of piss and precum. His gaping mouth pooling up with saliva as he stared up at his owner like some dumb animal. After all, he sure smelled like one.

#reality change #male tf #male transformation #dumber tf #redneck tf #shorttf

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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Your “Revenge: Jock Bro Style” story was super hot!! loved the way you added the pop-ups! (how did you make those btw?) would you ever make another story like it? maybe making a new roommate for Colt? lol

Aww thank you so much!! I wanted it to be a one-off story, but honestly now that you mention it, I might make a sequel in the future. I'm thinking maybe something about a friend of "Colt" trying to look for him and getting trapped by Brock or something to that end.

I love jockification/dumbification in general so don't worry more of those stories will definitely come out :D. It took a while to make the pop-ups cuz I had to assemble it all in Photoshop, and I used this GIF-maker online to put it all together. Took a bit to render cuz it was a pretty large file lol. It wasn't that bad since the first idea I had was editing together a WHOLE VIDEO with the full monty. Anyways again thank you so much for the support! <3

#czasasks

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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Thank you all so much for the luv <3

I did NOT expect the past posts to blow up like that, and seeing everyone like AND reblog them made me feel so happy especially because I'm new to writing these kinds of stories ;)

Anyways again I'm sorry if I can't post here too often nor if I don't respond to your messages that quickly cos i wuz 2 bizy lisnin 2 sum fylz dis br0 geyve me huhuh (not really). But in all honesty I hope that won't be too much of a bother. I didn't want to leave a note like this without SOMETHING so here's a really really short story. ILYSM ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[dodson124]: plz bro stap id hurdsss

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Sorry dude. You asked for it.

[dodson124]: brooooo plz im soooo stinky n my hed hurdss so bad bro

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Well I don't know what to tell you bud. Here's what you said: "Please make me into the stud of my dreams." Well, that was your dream. You even sent a whole voicemail with what you wanted and I gave it to you.

[dodson124]: nooo bro y my hed hurdy i jus wanned 2 b BIIG

[hypn0tr1pn0]: You DID stipulate and even select the "dumber" option of my services. I know you're not all there in the head anymore but I didn't violate any rules.

[dodson124]: dude wat r u sayn i kant unnertsand u

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Oookay...

[hypn0tr1pn0]: U sed u want change. I giv u change. U sed u want dum. I giv u dum.

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Got it?

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Helloooo?

[dodson124]: dude im sooooo big an dum now

[dodson124]: fuk bro im soooooooooo hooooooooooorneeeeee

[hypn0tr1pn0]: Geez.

[hypn0tr1pn0]: I'll go over there to see if I can reverse this face-to-face. Part of our services says we need to get your address in case of a "hypnosis accident". Until then just, jerk off or whatever. Just don't do anything that'll stress your mental faculties.

[dodson124]: wuuut bro y u sayn jibrish r u dum . ?//

[hypn0tr1pn0]: No no read big word. No no hurt hed. W8 for me. I go ur house.

[hypn0tr1pn0]: God, why does typing and speaking like this actually like

[hypn0tr1pn0]: ....feel gud.

[dodson124]: broooooooooooooo

[hypn0tr1pn0 has disconnected]

#mental changes #male tf #dumber tf #reality change #male transformation

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

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It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

#dumb jock tf #jock tf #muscle transformation #muscle tf #jockification #reality change #jockify

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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ABOUT ME

I'm a very busy guy, so just a heads up, I only post when I find free time. I enjoy male tf (gosh who figured), and my posts are also some tf stories I made.

SOME THINGS:

If you are a minor, AVERT THINE EYES FROM MY DOMAIN AND DO NOT INTERACT.

If you are into those weird "conservative tf" stories, DO NOT INTERACT AS WELL. I may/will definitely do straight tfs, but I will NEVER make those kind of stories (big ick and big yuck)

EDIT: you CAN ask for personalized stories and what not (ex: "Can you turn me into a jock). But I have to put these off until I announce I'm free to do them (I enjoy the prospect of writing comms but I'm scared I'll lose some time and I do wanna make them be good quality and not feel rushed)

Refrain from messaging me unless it's something a little important or "exciting" story-wise. If it's a simple message of thanks and whatnot feel free to do so though (ilybnlt <3)

Asks are okay, but my response time might range A LOT so I will likely answer later than wanted.

Asks about me are fine, but if something's too close for comfort I'll probably respond with something like "secret" or whatever.

If you want to collab on something, I unfortunately have to tell you I might not be able to do those kind of stories. Like I said, I'm very busy, and I'm scared my free time will be gobbled up like nothing.

If you want to still collab, or if I wanna, please hold them off until Summer, Thanksgiving/Fall, and Christmas/Wintertime. My workplace is thankfully liberal in those timeframes and can use a few days off to let out some writing-steam.

I have anxiety and a touch of scopophobia, so if you are gonna leave a message or comment, please be gentle (don't treat me like a baby though)

Have fun reading my stories. There may not be as many as some other ancient blogs, but I still worked hard on them 🙏

Not a native English speaker, do with that info what you will (??)

Images are all taken from the Internet (duh I didn't travel to something like Russia to take them myself)

If you read this far type "protego" (I'm watching 👁️👁️)

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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In Another Place, In Another Time (2)

"Сфотографируй уже, блин." (Take a picture already, damn.) Alexandr spoke in a loud sing-song way to his boyfriend Maxim as he laid on top of the pile of dirt. Now finding new work as a gay porn star, he wanted to take a few stills for a customer asking for a "Soviet-inspired" porno.

It has been decades since the transformation happened, and he is now back in the year from when he was still in that library, many many years older. But Alexandr doesn't remember that anymore. All the cums he had spent for those many years had drained all of his past memory. And now here he was somewhere in the north of Kazakhstan, where he had moved to a few years back to find a safer home to partake in his "interest".

"Я такая сексуальная в этом советском стиле." (I'm so sexy in this Soviet style) he mumbled. "...me...beeg...seksi...yeahh..." he continued, his underwear soaking wet from precum, his mind empty, and his body bulked beyond belief. He chuckled, his deep aged voice resonating in his throat and out his mouth. Alexandr was happy.

#male transformation #male tf #nationality tf #inanotherplaceinanothertime #time travel tf

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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In Another Place, In Another Time (1)

Jack had a habit of wandering off into the library in his off time. A man in his mid-twenties, he liked gazing upon the rows of shelves. Not for books, but to simply revel in fond memories of the past. As a teenager in the 2000s, he used to bring with him his old Nokia phone and simply message other people, free from the judgmental eyes of his peers and teachers. But today was different. On the horizon lay an intimidating activity about the different countries of the world. A "simple" geography quiz where the teacher would pick a city from a different country and the student's would have to answer interesting facts about it, without repetition. This week's country: Russia. "Why on Earth did I choose World History...", he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes in general upset.

Quickly finding a spot to read some books, he brushed up on Russia's many different cities, from Vladivostok, to Irkutsk, to the far northern reaches of Murmansk. Each fact slowly blending together however, causing him to become slightly panicked. "Dammit! I can't remember sh*t!", he angrily mumbled to himself.

As he was to return a book to move onto another one, he spotted something strange. In the far back of the shelf lay what he thought was a strange black covering of some sort. Pulling it out, he breathed back in surprise: it was a Nokia 8210. Not the exact one he had but, the same model nonetheless. "The hell..." Jack thought to himself, pressing the selection key to turn it on. Almost immediately, he found his surroundings blur into an incoherent mess, as his eyesight became weaker and weaker, before everything became black. No longer than a few seconds later, he blinked. He found himself in an unfamiliar bathroom, staring at his phone on the toilet. Panic rushed in, as he quickly exited the bathroom. "What the FUCK just happened to me?!" he thought. As he swung open the doors of his stall, he locked eyes with a stranger. Approaching it to ask for help, the man in front of him did as well, with the exact same expression. He stopped in his tracks. With shaking hands, he lifted his Nokia as the man in front of him did the same. A flash. This was a mirror. That man was him.

"Ч-что…" (Wh-what...) He covered his mouth. Russian. He was a Russian man. In some Russian bathroom. Wearing Russian clothes. In Russia. The thought circled over and over in his head as he stepped back. "Что, черт возьми, со мной случилось?!" (What the fuck happened to me?!) He screamed again, clutching his throat as a deeper voice vibrated within him, the Russian words flowing out like a rushing river. He quickly went through his pockets and found his driver's license.

Name: Alexandr Mishin Date of Birth: 24 December 1976

He quickly pocketed it. Checking his Nokia, he found something even stranger and frankly, more terrifying. The date was listed as 8 April 2000. That would make him 24, the same age he was before everything changed. "П-подожди. Я ВЕРНУЛСЯ В 2000-е?!" (W-wait, I'M BACK IN THE 2000'S?!) He screamed. Almost immediately, a wave of discomfort hit his head, as his vision became blurrier before quickly going back to normal. In that span of time he suddenly remembered everything about his new life. How he was born in Moscow before moving to the city of Norilsk way in the north of Siberia. He remembered how he dropped out of school fairly early, and was not considered to be the smartest tool in the shed. He remembered how he worked out almost everyday, not giving a damn about fickle matters like math, reading, nor world history. He was still literate enough to read and understand basic signs, words, and sentences, but something like акклиматизация (acclimatization) took a few minutes before the meaning popped into his head. He was still gay, but now he had to ever-so-slightly hide it when among his peers, who were currently in mandatory military service. He remembered how he had managed to bribe the officer's to avoid it, still being gifted a camouflage-patterned uniform which he wore almost everywhere to pretend he already finished his service. Slowly stepping up and rubbing his forehead, he looked down once more at his muscular frame, rubbing his sensitive nipples and running his hands along his head. "О боже… Я так чертовски возбужден…" (Oh god...I'm so FUCKING horny...). Pulling his pants down and leaning down a wall, he pulled up his cock and began stroking it. With each successive stroke, the panic from his head gradually formed into uncontrollable pleasure. His mind swirled with thoughts of fucking muscular Russian men, as he touched himself all over his body. His lips, nose, eyes, ears, were perfectly proportioned. His hair, while shaved, was so exciting and fun to rub his hands over. His muscles were all so supple, and so sensitive when touched, as was his ass and cock. And his cock was long, standing proud at a whopping seven inches long and being the width of half his wrist.

He tugged and tugged, his mind becoming even foggier as he got closer to the edge. And then it happened. Ropes of hot steaming cum raced down his shaft as it splattered across the bathroom floor. His breath was still shaky from the ongoing orgasm, as his cock quivered. With each rope of cum, it seemed as though something from his past became blurrier. Sure, he knew who he was and what he was doing, but he started to forget what year it had even happened. Images of more-modern smartphones, new fast-food items, and even some celebrities he used to love and became a fan of.

"…Перенесли на десять лет назад? Нет, нет... наверное, восемь лет... может быть, шесть? " (...Was I transported back ten years? No, no... probably eight years... maybe six?) He thought to himself as the years started blurring together.

"...w...v....vat'ever...." He said in an accented English, slightly limited and dumbed down by this point, before hurriedly fixing his clothes and leaving the bathroom. The cum stayed behind on the cold floor tiles. He was back in 2000, the dawn of the new millennium, and he was excited to relive it, even though he was in another place, in another time. His cock stirred in his pants, and he knew exactly how he would live this new life.

#male transformation #male tf #inanotherplaceinanothertime #nationality tf #time travel tf

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