purplepangolin

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What a view at 1/3rd size…

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Every night before bed, Jace would play a hypno file to help him focus in class. Little did he know that his roommate would change the file each night to one that would turn him into the perfect himbo doll. Now, Jace could care less about school. All that matters is looking hot.

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There’s a lot of tf opportunities on a farm. On a ranch. Near a magical wood, or just with enough masculine energy pushed into farm tools that might enhance the user even in the modern day. A casual changing magic that helps folks settle in for their stay, however long that might be.

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Oops it’s right there. Can we talk about it?

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“Transform me into a dad,” Jason said, handing me the ray gun. It was dark, metallic, and said DADBLASTER on the side.

I shrugged. “Okay, dude,” and pulled the trigger.

He was enveloped in a ray of green light for a moment, and when it faded, he was naked. I could see his thin, wiry body standing in front of me, hairless, and his shocked expression.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, looking down at himself. “I feel it!”

He rubbed his chest, and sure enough I could see dark hair sprouting across it. He looked back up to me in time for a moustache to appear over his upper lip.

“Bro,” he moaned, his voice deeper. “I’m becoming a dad! Fuuuuuck!” I raised his arms up and flexed, and they bulked with muscle. Dark pit hair grew in under his arms, and his chest barrelled out with muscle.

“Feels fuckin’ good,” he groaned, growing taller before my eyes. He looked down at me and grinned. “You look so little now, dude!”

I felt so small compared to him. “You look amazing,” I said. “Transform me next?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” he laughed, picking up another raygun. “But not into a dad.” He pulled the trigger and I felt the warm light engulf me just as I caught a glimpse of the words on the side: PUP BLASTER.

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

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A shared tf shower. Growth? Just cock growth for their pleasure? Shrinking for fun? So many options…

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DUMB

I had always been a smart guy. IQ 180, an all As student, summa cum laude graduate, one of the youngest scientists in my faculty.

That is, until I was challenged by one of the jocks from my old school to listen to his favourite song. I had always looked down onto him for his simple taste in music and now he dared me to listen to it without giving in to the beat. ‚You cant judge what you don‘t know, right? That‘d be so stupid!‘, he mocked me when I hesitated, not knowing what I could gain from listening to something else than Mozart or Vivaldi.

I couldn‘t leave this challenge without reply, so I took the bet and listened to that tune of some guy called ‚Timmy Trumpet‘. https://youtu.be/D4m737SW2yc?si=upG5zB5Y_HKoKA9y After just one second I knew I hated this style of music. But I had to keep going to not lose the bet, so I decided to just endure this test.

‚I play my games, you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Yes, that‘s me.

‚But I don’t wanna know it, rather focus on the fun!‘

Yes, that‘s him.

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

I‘d definitely do that.

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

Did they have to repeat it so often? I just counted 26 times! Well, I think that‘s because the typical audience of that supposed ‚artist‘ can‘t memorise more lyrics than that. But just as I was thinking that, an image of said artist flashed before my eyes, looking at me as if he was swearing revenge for insulting him.

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

34! I caught my feet going with the beat and instantly stopped it. No chance he was winning this bet!

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

55! I suddenly felt like I had forgotten something. But I couldn‘t figure out what it was.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

76! I recognised that strange feeling was connected to a drop. A drop? A drop of what? A drop of temperature? No, it was actually getting rather hot and I felt the urge to pull of my shirt.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

97! Was it the beat dropping? Hell, yeah! Timmy Trumpet always dropped the beat like a pro! I didn‘t even know what dropping the beat meant, being new to all this, but who cared?

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

118! I suddenly realised what was dropping, but it was too late. With every ‚dumb‘, my IQ was dropping down! Something told me it had to be… like… half a point per repetition? Damn, that sounded like math… how many ‚dumb’s had there been? Divided by two… damn, this is hard… and subtracted from… and… 121!?! That‘s barely scratching the mark for being highly intelligent! Come on, this has to be a bad joke!

‚I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

123. A jerk. One, two, three. Just a jerk. Yeah, these are numbers I can work with. A jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. I couldn‘t stop going along with the lyrics while my old class mate smiled at me like a silly jerk.

‚I’ve got a worth in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

128 ‚dumb’s and my IQ dropped down to 114, only one standard deviance over average. No, I can‘t let him do that to me! I’m special! I have a worth in the world of the smart and educated! I‘ve got inventions to create and discoveries to make!

‚I won’t be the one you want!‘

Right!

‚If you can’t be one with dumb!‘

Oh, damn! I have to be one with dumb! Wait, that doesn‘t even make sense grammatically!‘

‚Cause I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

134! Ha! One, three, four! Haha! Did I forget one number? Hahaha! Who cares? I‘m just a jerk!

Suddenly I found myself singing out loud along with the song:

‚I play my games you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Stupid nerds wasting their time with work and learning when there are weights to be lifted, parties to be held, holes to be filled!

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun!‘

They‘re the stupid ones. I‘m the genius, because I don‘t waste time trying to be one!

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!

And my jerk bro joined in, both of us jumping and partying like idiots:

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb! But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

169! Hahaha! 69! So good! I laughed. I didn’t even know why. I just had fun. I didn’t even count anymore. And the beat dropped, and my IQ dropped, all down to 95, and we dropped our shirts and showed off our jock bodies. And while all of it dropped down, Timmy Trumpet bowed down, as an artist having finished another masterpiece.

And I bowed down in front of him, thanking him, laying my drained out IQ points to the ground before him, giving my life to him to never have any goals again than getting swole and partying half naked to his great songs.

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

And as the song faded, my favourite song from my favourite artist, my thoughts faded into simplicity, my IQ settling at a comfy 85, one standard deviance below average, right before the beginning of a light learning disability. Not that I was interested in complex stuff like that anymore. Or even able to comprehend it. All I knew was that I had reached the jerk spot, that sweet spot right between your everyday stupidity and concerning imbecility, where I was still able to manage my daily routine and training plans, but was assured to get a headache from hard stuff like… doing equations and reading science stuff. So I think I‘ll make sure to stay far away from that shit from now on!

I put the song on repeat to make my IQ click into place and lock it where it was to make sure I‘d never lose that silly happiness and fun a jerk like me enjoyed. And I proudly sang along:

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

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I hope they have fun.

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A selfie set up for measuring shrinking: step by step he drops and gets turned on…

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Smartphones do “help” with sudden shrinking.

These are absurdly hot.

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“Transform me into a dad,” Jason said, handing me the ray gun. It was dark, metallic, and said DADBLASTER on the side.

I shrugged. “Okay, dude,” and pulled the trigger.

He was enveloped in a ray of green light for a moment, and when it faded, he was naked. I could see his thin, wiry body standing in front of me, hairless, and his shocked expression.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, looking down at himself. “I feel it!”

He rubbed his chest, and sure enough I could see dark hair sprouting across it. He looked back up to me in time for a moustache to appear over his upper lip.

“Bro,” he moaned, his voice deeper. “I’m becoming a dad! Fuuuuuck!” I raised his arms up and flexed, and they bulked with muscle. Dark pit hair grew in under his arms, and his chest barrelled out with muscle.

“Feels fuckin’ good,” he groaned, growing taller before my eyes. He looked down at me and grinned. “You look so little now, dude!”

I felt so small compared to him. “You look amazing,” I said. “Transform me next?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” he laughed, picking up another raygun. “But not into a dad.” He pulled the trigger and I felt the warm light engulf me just as I caught a glimpse of the words on the side: PUP BLASTER.

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

[purplepangolin]

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Sun zonked. Forgot his sunscreen so now he’s slowly melting and becoming pliable. Solar flares can have weird effects but him obeying statements including impossible but sexy ones? A positive side effect.

Sleeping beauty.

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I applaud Joe Gage for the common thing in the porn files where guys flex their cocks at each other, a not subtle and voluntary way to show “yeah. Let’s play.” It’s a small but important touch.