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raspalace · 6 days ago

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Access Denied

Two workplace enemies are forced to understand each other intimately after an ID mix up leads to them becoming exactly who they think the other is.

Science themed role swap! Straight gym bro -> Twinky lab tech and Uptight assistant -> Horny beyond horny dom meathead! -Occam

The workweek had begun like any other. Nico’s Monday had been spent making sure the lab was stocked and all equipment was in working order. But the tech has always longed to move up and do some actual science. Elsewhere, Jeremiah worked the hours away in RnD as more or less a lab rat, testing out new exercise equipment and protein powders. He doesn’t notice any crazy difference between the machines or with his gains, but he is more than happy to continue getting paid to stay ripped.

The two rarely interacted to any major degree. They’d pass each other in the halls, act cordially in communication as needed. Despite their limited time together though, there has been more than enough chance for mutual disdain to form. Perhaps it was when Nico ordered the wrong brand of energy drinks, or how Jeremiah leaves his sweaty towels constantly cluttering up the should-be sterile lab.

So after the first passive aggressive spat the pair had taken to simply avoiding each other. Both being mature enough adults, they know they’re cushy gigs are worth having to put up with a slightly irritating coworker. As of late though, it’s almost as if their supervisors are forcing them to interact with each other more, which neither is quite happy about.

This was a topic of much complaint at the bizarre Tuesday night happy hour they both attended at the insistence of said supervisors. Other techs nod along as Nico loudly complains about how ungrateful the guinea pig is while the few coworkers that fancy themselves fit tag along near Jeremiah and stare as he complains about uptight Nico’s seeming obsession with him.

Any time their hands lack a drink someone is sure to offer a new one, tasting slightly more acrid than the last, though they’re quite too sauced to notice. Neither even remembers getting home, though there’s no time to question anything as they wake up late and rush into the lab.

Lugging a delivery of pipettes and PPE he had delivered to his home, Nico’s vision was blocked by boxes. Mid-swig of a morning black coffee with hastily added protein powder, Jeremiah was distracted trying to remember what the boss man said his testing schedule was today. Even despite their hungover, frazzled states, they could probably take a collision with anyone else in stride. Though as they fall to the floor, the same thought is on both of their minds.

“It just had to be him.”

Gasps fill the lobby as coffee and boxes splatter to the polished floor. Groaning atop the now crushed container of gloves, Nico pushes himself up and frowns at the gym rat. “You really should watch where you’re going, you know.”

Clicking his tongue, Jeremiah eyes the blonde roast still spreading on the floor and responds in kind. “Last I checked, takes two to collide don’t it doc? Oh wait sorry kid scratch that. Ain’t got a title do ya?”

Both fume for half a second, waiting to see if the other is going to escalate any further. Before either hurls anything actually damaging though, they realize what a mistake that would have been as both their supervisors rush over to help them up. This catches them off guard as they know their bosses should be already in the lab. It’s as if they were waiting for them here? But neither says anything as they’re escorted in opposite directions.

“Don’t you worry about those boxes Nico. We’ll have someone see if anything’s salvageable later. Can’t have coffee stained facemasks after all haha!”

Nico nods along as he’s led, taking one last look over his shoulder he sees Jeremiah do the same. Brows furrowed he assumes the jerk is scowling at him mindlessly, rather than harboring the exact same suspicions he does as his supervisor continues.

“Ah! I managed to pick this up for you in that chaos, you really should keep better track of your employee ID. You know I’d hate to write you up.”

The card gleams in her hands almost as much as the blank smile forced on her face. Nico apologizes quickly and supplicates himself, “Of course Ma’am. I won’t let it happen again.” Her eyes follow the card as Nico slowly clips it back onto his belt before patting the underling on his shoulder and wandering past him into the lab. “Hurry along now Mr. Kelly, there’s science to be done.”

Across the lobby, Jeremiah sees the scene happen just as his own project lead holds up an ID card and gives the same spiel, tempered for his favorite lab rat. “Eyes over here Ace. You know how the higher ups are always so anal about security. You must’ve dropped it when Nico bumped into you. I know how irreplaceable you are but my bosses reallyyy hate security leaks so try and be more careful with it.”

Hearing his words if not listening to them, Jeremiah nods with intensity as he throws the card loosely back into his pocket. “I swear coach- uhhh Sir. Ain’t gonna happen again. You takin’ me somewhere special today or should I just head on in?”

The researcher’s eyes soften and he briefly directs Jeremiah to the door, “Just a normal one today. I’ll see you in there, Jere.” He then rushes off to join Nico’s supervisor. Together the pair wander in a door that Nico and Jeremiah both know doesn’t lead to their usual labs, but what recourse do they have.

Briefly they eye each other from across the lobby. Both men know something is off. Though as everyone else in the lobby goes about their usual business, with the only person they can trust being the one who always stinks up the elevator, the one who always opts for grainiest protein bars. They simply turn and go about their business. Why would either trust the other over their own boss?

They enter the labspace easy enough and despite the rocky start it seems that this is going to be just the plan and simple day needed to recover from their overindulgent night and hectic morning. It’s the decontamination room where it becomes clear that something has gone terribly wrong.

Jeremiah scratches his chest as he walks to the exit door, he’s done this a hundred times and hasn’t had a single thought about it since the first. Nico sheepishly eyes the camera in the corner, from what he knows about labs he doesn't really understand why theirs even needs a decontamination room at every entrance.

As they reach the next door at exactly the same time, the scanner at the door blares in a way they have never seen before. Shocked by the aggressive beeping the pair turn to find a large screen light up, now shining red light down onto them.

ACCESS DENIED BIOMETRIC READINGS INCONCLUSIVE FURTHER IDENTIFICATION NEEDED

Nico scoffs as a loading wheel slowly spins on the screen before looking at the ID in his hand and inspecting it closer. Jeremiah shifts his jaw and wonders if this is a test, wonders if that little dweeby tech is in on it. More pressingly, he wishes he had been able to finish his coffee as he too checks the card and at once, they both see the expressionless face of their apparent workplace adversary.

“Shit.”

Just as soon as they discover the mixup and start to question the intentions of their supervisors, each of their screens stops loading and confirms the mixup. Jeremiah tries the door he came from and groans as the handle doesn’t have the slightest give. Turning back he sees the screen shift white.

WELCOME NICO KELLY. PLEASE ANSWER THESE AUTHENTIFICATION QUESTIONS.

Not quite used to the tests being so strange, Jeremiah plans to have a convo with his doctor about ethics. He’s pretty sure that’s something he’s allowed to do from his own incredibly limited research from when he got this job.

WELCOME JEREMIAH WOOD. PLEASE ANSWER THESE AUTHENTIFICATION QUESTIONS.

Nico on the other hand is frustrated and wondering if he’s being set up to simply be canned. His mind is unable to focus on anything but the memory of his manager drilling the importance of lab security. Eying the camera once more he sighs and knows he just needs to get this over with, get in there and swap ID’s back with Jeremiah.

Both men hit proceed and are greeted with the first question:

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES?

“Hobbies plural? Shieeeet, I don’t know what that little nerd’s into.”

Jeremiah scratches his beard and tries to remember if he’s ever seen Nico wearing some accessory or another. Guys like him love anime keychains and figurines and shit right? Or he’s gay right? What do gay guys do for fun? Eying the screen he asks aloud, “This shit multiple choice or what?” It shines on, awaiting an answer that Jeremiah hasn’t a hope in the world to give.

Nico seems like a gamer. Thinking of his own hobbies, the gym flickers in his mind and he laughs at the idea that small fry’d ever be caught dead in there. No, he’d probably say something pretentious, something to look smarter Jeremiah bets. He can almost swear he remembers seeing some big book bulging in the tech’s tote bag.

No sense wasting time, and never much of a thinker, Jeremiah decides to lock it in. Offering his answer in an impression that is a tad more femme than he intended, “It’s me Nicoo, I love nerd shi- oh uh, video games and reading lotsa books!” His stone-cold face focuses on the screen as a spiraling loading screen returns once more.

Across the building Nico finds himself in a similar dilemma. At first he wonders if answering incorrectly would just let him return to the lobby and find Jeremiah. Something tells him though that the brute is currently going through the same thing, and he simply cannot trust that dullard to coordinate with him. No, he’ll just need to be correct. Should be no problem, simple man simple answers.

Obviously the lab rat answered gym. The idea that Jeremiah has multiple options and wouldn’t put his muscle-bound form at number one is simply laughable to Nico. But beyond that, the tech is absolutely stumped. He’s overheard the lunkhead on the phone on a few occasions but the conversations are most often about work or locker room talk about whoever he’s having sex with at the time.

Surely fucking isn’t a hobby, right? But what else would that asshole say! Trying to play 4d chess as he is, Nico for a moment tries to remember when he answered these authentication questions and comes up blank. Maybe they’re just testing him to see what he’ll say. In which case he’ll absolutely not say fucking. But what else is a sex-obssessed gym bro to say?

Nervously eying the screen he shakes his head and simply addresses it, first thought best thought. “Yo yo yo, uhhh? It’s me, JerEImiah- ugh. I’m into getting absolutely yoked. Yuhh? And hanging out with my, um, bros.” Nervously doing his pathetic best at a Jeremiah impression, Nico’s voice cracks fast into the hazarded answer.

The same loading symbol that greeted Jeremiah begins its dance on Nico’s screen as well. So focused the pair are on the swirling screensaver that neither notices the faint hissing sound now ushering forth from the vents. When the screen at last flashes a vibrant green Nico and Jeremiah are filled with relief.

CORRECT

Who wouldn’t take a huge breath of relief after skating through by the skin of their teeth. What matter is it that they’re slightly light headed now, is it from staring at those spinning spheres or the nigh-imperceptible ozone scent slowly filling the room. When those spinning spheres return en masse, both men feel themselves unable to look away as they reflect on their answers, as if their thoughts and ideas were being pulled from them.

Jeremiah’s answer was simple enough, quibbling for a moment on anime or video games, but in the end he was right. Right? Second guessing himself, a thought from somewhere else surges to the front of his mind, why did he call that nerd shit if he watches anime, if he plays video games?

The strange alien question stirs him just enough to look away from the screen, sucking on his teeth he defends himself, “Nah nah, likin’ Dragon Ball Z and playin’ FIFA or 2K with my boys ain’t the same!”

Is it not?

His head sears with the pain of a brain freeze as a strained grunt echoes through the small room. He knows how to make it go away. The screen shines bright enough for him to see it through his clenched eyes, he just needs to open them and take it in. As he gives in, an invasive speaks up once more.

And reading?

“Ohhuhh? I have been meanin’ to uh, read more…”

As the words fall from his thick lips, his attention is wholly absorbed by the screen. Camera lenses stationed in every corner zoom in on the man as impossible physical changes begin. His face contorts as his answers thus far simply cannot suggest a form as impressive as his own, so he must get smaller.

Stumbling in place, as each second passes it looks like his spine is slowly compressing, shrinking. Jarimiah loses a few inches of height as his head bobbles to follow the dots. One would never guess he set a PR in the lab this week as his arms look suddenly leaner, lighter as gym sessions are no longer his number one priority.

The tank on his chest suddenly hangs a little looser, no longer yanking on his traps or straining against pecs that simply don’t have the mass or leverage anymore. Strength is sapped from the no-longer behemoth as muscles shrink. His arms feel wrong, as if they haven’t been strained for weeks.

The elastic of his athletic shorts thankfully compress and maintain their hold on his ass and still-prodigious bulge as his thighs thin to a size that could scarcely break a cantaloupe, let alone a watermelon. A bush he’d never trim loses its volume as across his body, hair he’s never manscaped begins to fall away. Jungles of pit hair that always decried his masculinity lose their luster.

Slowly the screen loosens its hold on Jarimiah and he shakes out of the stupor, feeling drained but oblivious to his decidedly smaller form. His voice rests a few notes higher as he complains, “Shitt- I went way harder than I thought last night?” Looking down at his biceps his face blushes as he tries to find the veins that usually bulge on his arms, “Gonna need to step it up today.” Before he can get distracted comparing his form to any number of characters from Jojo’s or Street Fighter, the screen flashes and offers forth Question Two.

Across the lab, Nico is quite whinier about the whole thing. As soon as the screen congratulated him on the correct answer he tried the door again and yanked on it a few times before finally looking back at the screen. Anxiety already heightened, he continues to doubt the validity of this situation. Unfortunately for him, his questioning the situation only plays right into the hands of whoever is doing this to him, to them.

Was that even actually the right answer? Surely he didn’t just shot in the dark guess what Jarimiah’s hobbies are, right? He can’t be that simple? After all, weren’t they quite similar to his own?

Nico freezes in place as he knows that final thought was not his right. That it did not come from his mind. He stares daggers at the camera, his lips twitching with rage as he refuses to be some test subject for this god-forsaken experiment. After all he’s done for them, after all his blood, sweat, and tears keeping this stupid lab stocked and up to code.

As his pulse heightens and his anxieties rise though, it only allows whatever is invading his mind a deeper hold. In between imaginedprofanities hurled at the proctors of this torture, his mind keeps flickering back: blood, sweat, and tears. Sweat.

There’s a beep from the screen and he flinches back before turning and staring at it with crazed eyes. Seeing the spinning symbols once more, he feels a warmth in his chest as for some reason he imagines his friends. But as his defenses fall away he tilts his head. They do look a bit brawnier than he remembers. And why are they at the park court and not chilling at home?

Slowly stumbling closer to the beacon drawing him in. Nico loses himself in looping questions. And so he too begins to change. Sweat pools in his loose dress shirt as memories of gaming and library visits give way to hitting the gym with his friends. His mouth twitches as he almost reflexively says bros despite everything within him trying to keep the word from slipping from his mouth.

His whole form begins to lengthen like taffy. Ankles are immediately exposed as a few blonde hairs burst thicker in the open air before spreading up his burgeoning calves like a creeping ivy. Feet quickly struggle against his lab safe shoes as his thighs grow to a size that demand at least a few sizes larger.

Midriff exposed his ever-trimmed pubes erupt like a garden before launching upward towards his belly button. Nico’s freshman fifteen that never left is finally put to good use as his body bulks up as much as it’s able in these restrictive garments. The hint of pecs burst onto his chest as his sleeves catch on biceps that have never been.

Face sharpening as hours in the gym continue to rise, Nico bites his lip and slowly shakes his head as remembers quibbling about his answer. Didn’t he say that Jarimiah’s obsessed with sex? His eyes almost cross as he feels his balls hang heavier in his pants, struggling against the briefs as he wonders if he’ll ever be able to think without his cock interjecting again. He feels pre pooling in his pants almost as much as the needy drool now dripping in his mouth when at last there’s a beep that barely breaks through the horny haze.

Remembering himself and his situation, Mico grimaces from the litany of discomforts affecting him now dressed in what may as well be a child’s wardrobe. No matter, he’ll change in the locker room, or uh? The lab, yeah. Whatever.

At once both men see question two:

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE

Their minds immediately give an answer, though it takes some time for each of them to justify their subconscious reactions. Mico immediately thinks of Fight Club with a dumb smile, voice rumbling deeper in his new chest, “Yeah, dumbass dudes like him always love toxic movies like that. Don’t even think about all the uh, subtext…” Scratching his midriff as sweat flits off his new treasure trail Mico purses his lips, “Wait? That’s not my favorite movie right?”

Across the way Jarimiah remembers overhearing Mico far too many deep at the bar last night defending Call Me By Your Name. His voice cracks higher once more as he gasps in surprise, “Ahh man how did I forget that Mico loves that gay stuff!” An eye twitches as he clearly remembers scenes from this movie he certainly hasn’t seen. The memory of sneaking to see it before he was out. “Wait no, I’m- uh, straight?” Chalamet was pretty killer in Dune tho…

Without waiting for an answer, the screen has all the information it needs and rushes to begin further changes while both men are lost in thought. The hissing rises even louder as instead of ozone, two distinct scents are pumped into Jarimiah and Mico’s rooms. Peach, mixed drinks, the acrid smell of nail polish. Rubber, whey, the stench of well-earned sweat.

Debating to himself whether he’s gay or not, when images from the movie continue pumping into his head alongside countless other rite-of-passage movies. When he wonders how many times he’s seen Josh O’Connor’s ass he feels his own tight, toned ass slowly give way into becoming the perfect bubble butt that no top could resist. Biting his lip he feels it bulge plumper.

The performatively masc-goatee on his face retracts as the hair on his head lengthens and spills down his neck into waifish curls. His pale skin smooths free from blemishes as tightly-regimined muscle continues to atrophy into delightfully ample skin. Perfect to be touched, to be manhandled. Jamiah moans from the sensations coursing through him as his shorts fall away, leaving him in a jockstrap held up by his rigid boner alone as he humps the air.

His massive cock shrinks ever so slightly, but this does nothing to affect the need burning within him. Years of intense workouts are replaced with jogging and cardio done with the sole purpose of looking appealing. Of being perfect bait for eye candy that he could easily outmaneuver intellectually.

While Jamiah’s wardrobe falls away, Mico’s is rapidly filled to bursting. Already beset by hormones more powerful than he can imagine, seeing the perfect male form in his mind. The growing man is in desperate need to let off some steam. His rougher, calloused hands rip off his multiple tops and free his sweaty chest to the open air.

Rows of abs gleam from the shining, swirling screen as thick curls spread to cover pecs he would have killed to suck on. To bite, to squeeze. But no, he’d never. That’s for, uh, he can’t quite remember. But the outline of the man fills him with need as his cock throbs large enough to send a tear through the crotch of his pants.

His face, already sharpened, hardens into one unmistakably masculine. Brow casting a shadow over darker eyes as his chin is coated with a prickly stubble that he’d not be able to grow given all the time in the world. His teeth are clenched so hard it’s a wonder none of them chip as drool drips down his dry lips.

Blonde curls retract and darken as his hairline pulls back. Thick dark hair rushes across his muscular body as his head is topped with a simple short cut that would stay out of the way at the gym. His cock throbs as he moans from the delightfully searing pain of muscle bulking larger on his heavy thighs and dense chest.

Mitcoh leaves sweaty handprints against the screen as he leans against it for support, strong hips doing what they’re best at as the last shreds of his pants join his shirt on the floor. His grunts resound deeper through the room with every forceful thrust as his cock thrusts out of his tight briefs.

Somewhere two researchers eye a killswitch. Hearing their subjects groan, the busting of thick toes from shoes, the shifting of a voice higher as if it were autotuned, they relent. Who are they to stand in the way of progress. Though seeing the writing, or cum rather, on the wall they shift to rapid fire questions.’

WHAT IS YOUR MOTHER’S MAIDEN NAME

Frowning at the distraction from pursuing his fulfillment, Mitcoh answers Cruz. Hesitating for a second as he knows he should not know this, Jamiah answers Dalloway. Both fall to their knees as their minds shift irreparable, every aspect of their lives and selves rapidly shifting and switching. Did Mitcoh even go to college? Does Jamiah know what a fly machine does? No matter. No time.

WHAT IS YOUR NAME

Both men forget that they are answering for someone else as they simply say what they believe to be their own, true names. Cementing them into their new selves, their new identities. “Mitch Wood” and “Jaime Kelly.” And as they say their new names, the screens go pitch dark. Leaving them deprived of sight. They only have the scent of their musk, the sound of their gasps echoing off the no longer sterile walls of the decontamination room.

Audio pipes in and both men hear the other’s supervisor as they ask the same question.

“What do you think of Mitch Wood?”

“I’m the fuckin’ alpha.”

“What do you think of Jaime Kelly?”

“I’m the perfect bottom.”

And with that, the vents hiss once more as both are promptly knocked unconscious, carried, and robed by a crew of men in hazmat suits. The supervisors cheer for an unmitigated technological breakthrough. Perhaps there are wires to be uncrossed regarding the devolution of the mind into base, horny ID, but that can always be done in trial two. Not like it’s hard to find perfect test subjects in a lab where they deliberately ferment petty rivalries and interdepartmental disdain.

For now it is time to see how the pair react to each other in their new forms. Seeing Mitch’s cock twitch as Jaime’s slowly stirring body is deposited in the same room, the scientists are taking bets on how long it will be until they tire themselves out once more from fucking. And they can’t wait to see that happen. For science, of course.

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raspalace · 19 days ago

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The Dictionary - P4

"The Stoner" for @thepharaoh20

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-"What the hell is this?" You thought as you retrieved a weird looking old book from an unmarked box that had appeared in your office after lunch.

As you looked at the book with some contempt you noticed that a piece of paper slipped from one of the pages, said piece of paper had the name "Ulric" written on it.

-"What the hell does he want?" You thought as you kneeled towards the floor and grabbed the paper, Ulric had been your assistant up until recently, the guy had potential but he was too "undisciplined" for your law firm.

For example, he recently accepted a case that you didn't want him to, after all, it was a drug-related case that could have ruined your law firm's reputation.

After he continued disobeying your every order in the following days you were left with no other option but to fire him, he was evidently angry about the whole situation, he even started ranting about how "elitist" you were while he was forcibly pulled out of your office by security.

That had been almost two weeks ago, you thought that you would eventually forget who Ulric was yet in between your hands was his "gift" to you, written in the note that had fallen to the floor were instructions to turn to page 50 and read the first definition.

For some reason that you couldn't quite explain you found yourself opening the book and obediently searching for the page, once you had found it you started diligently reading said definition.

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Stoner

A stoner is a peaceful, relaxed, nice guy who likes to smoke weed, Stoners are usually seen in small groups of 3 or 4 and sometimes in pairs. They generally have slightly bloodshot eyes when baked, and always wear a little smile on their faces. A Stoner is not to be confused with a Pothead. As Stoners are less dependent on weed and are more chill than Potheads.

Stoners enjoy socializing and laughter and being with their friends. They typically wear more comfortable and relaxed style clothing. They often own a pair of canvas shoes, well worn by the numerous Stoner adventures the wearer has participated in, Stoners generally walk slowly and are very rarely pissed off, their personality is very peaceful and loving.

Stoners will always have their closest friends but when they meet fellow Stoners, even if they have never met before, it's like meeting family. Stoners have a beautiful union and truly see each other as one global family - considering that almost anyone could be a Stoner.

More generally all Stoners tend to have a mutual distrust and dislike of oppressors/authority figures such as their parents, the government, or the police who generally try to take away the thing that unites them in peace and love, their precious weed.

It's also important to know that the grind life isn't a priority for Stoners, they like to experience life slowly and they recognize that to have a lot of fun money is not really needed, because of this you'll find stoners happily working in lower positions job.

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-"Is this a joke?" You thought as you finished reading the passage and proceeded to throw the book into a nearby garbage can while ignoring the caricature below of a young looking guy with bloodshot eyes holding a blunt in between his fingers.

Why in the hell would Ulric send you that book, was it some sort of a sick joke that you didn't understand, was there any real meaning to it?

Before you could truly find out the large and luxurious office that surrounded you was replaced by what can only be described as a small and slightly dinghy apartment.

There was a little kitchen next to a small but combined living and dining area plus a bedroom with an adjacent bathroom and closet, compared to your penthouse apartment this place was almost the size of your walking closet.

-"How on earth did I get here?" You thought to yourself slightly worried as you started walking in a hurry towards the exit of the apartment, but before you could escape you heard a weird ripping noise.

-"What was that?" You exclaimed worried as you tried to open the door in front of you but no matter how much you tried it wouldn't budge open.

-"Fuck!" You said as you hit the door with your fist several times once the little patience you possessed ran out -"I just want to get out of here...".

As that phrase escaped your mouth the elegant business clothes you were wearing ripped themselves out of your body and as they fell to the floor they quickly disappeared out of sight, this included your bra which left your whole body completely exposed to the elements.

Because of this you automatically tried to cover your breast but luckily for you, there didn't seem to be anyone else in the apartment.

-"I can't go out like this" You thought to yourself as you looked down at your naked body -"Let's see if I can get some clothes".

With this in mind, you started walking towards the bedroom where you had previously seen a large closet, but while you were on your way you didn't notice something important, your height seemed to be increasing with each step you took.

When you originally appeared in the apartment your height was around five feet four, but now it had somehow multiplied itself into an impressive six feet four.

-"Fuck where are they?" You thought as you opened the closet only to find a few sets of old dirty clothes and some bags of pure green weed and a few blunts

-"Shit!" You exclaimed as you looked at the drug paraphernalia with deep contempt, the anger you had towards it was so big that you didn't even feel when your breast started receding back into your body.

Their milking function ceased to exit and the large areolas which were to be used to feed a new life became smaller as well, by the time you had snapped back to reality your chest now displayed a pair of equally large and muscled pecs topped by a pair of pink nipples.

Before you could scream as if you were being murdered another more drastic change started happening below your waist, something large was pushing out of your vagina which made you collapse into the floor because of the sudden sensation this made, it was as if someone had kicked you in... In the balls?

As you looked down you saw a large fleshy tube growing slowly in length and girth until it had finally reached an impressive nine inches.

-"Oh my god!" You thought as an urge to start masturbating clouded your senses, it didn't take long before you were beating every inch of your new member and as you did your body lost every single feature that could be considered feminine.

Before you could cum your old self away another change started occurring by the base of your feet, they grew slightly larger but also changed in tone to a dark brown, swirls of black hairs also formed, and started climbing your legs together with your new brown skin tone.

As they climbed they also formed lean muscle in your legs, once the brown coloration reached your dick you finally cummed into the floor like a gazer, this was thanks to your larger brown balls that were always ready to breed any man or woman that came upon you. A hole was a hole you thought as some of your old inhibitions were slowly eroded away.

Your large brown ass also developed a healthy amount of hairs while your just recently formed six-pack was now divided into two sides by a trail of black hairs that exploded like the roots of a tree once they reached your large brown pecs, they also surrounded your now brown and more sensitive nipples in a sort of ring.

-"Fuck!" You gasped with your new masculine voice as an adam's apple formed in your neck while the brown wave of hairs climbed towards your face, giving you a messy beard that surrounded your more kissable lips and which complimented perfectly your new Arab ethnicity.

As a last symbol of change your long and luscious hair became shorter and changed in color to black, it also became slightly more curly just like the rest of the hair in your body, finally a messy short haircut was left we're once flowed a wave of blonde perfectly kept hair.

With your body fully changed you stood up slowly with the afterglow of your recent orgasm still flowing through your system.

You walked towards a broken mirror that was hazardously pinned to the wall, the reflection initially scared you but the more you looked at your young, brown, and hairy body you somehow started feeling better.

It was a sort of gift, you had gained a few more years in a life of a complete stranger, a life that you were now open to embrace, your old name by this point didn't even make sense as you were a man, you stopped thinking about yourself as Cristina and started to think yourself as Kahlil, a 23 year old gas station worker who loved to smoke some weed with your large friend group.

Thinking of which you walked still naked towards a small cabinet and retrieved an already prepared blunt and lighter, without wasting time you lit the blunt and started puffing it vigorously, with each puff the little resistance you had was erased and all the previous technical and legal knowledge you had was erased with it as well.

In its place were left fun experiences of partying, smoking, exploring your sexuality and just having plain fun, the great part of it all was that you didn't need much money to do those things, not like you were money hungry like your old self anyway.

-"That's some good shit" You said out loud with pleasure as you felt your dick becoming hard again, without much thought, you quickly started to pleasure yourself, you were finally happy with the smell of weed and your stronger manly musk permeating the air around you, as you cummed for a second time you immediately thought with a dopey smile on your face -"Life is good".

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