sorcerer-felix

[sorcerer-felix]

Have finally started to see results as I build muscle but would love to be completely taken over my the transformation. Just completely lose myself, almost like I become a new person

The humid air hung thick and heavy, a stark contrast to the sterile chill of the gym Zach had abandoned for the afternoon. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of ancient oaks in the park, casting dancing shadows on the worn path where he performed his pull-ups. He stared at his reflection, the faint outline of biceps mocking his efforts. Months he'd dedicated to iron and sweat, yet the gains were frustratingly minimal. "I'll do anything to get stronger," he muttered to his reflection, a desperate plea hanging in the humid air.

Rounding a bend, he saw a figure draped in shimmering silk, lounging on a moss-covered boulder. "Felix?" Zach asked, recognizing the sorcerer from their brief encounter in town. Felix turned, a playful glint in his light blue eyes. "Ah, Zach! Come to admire the scenery?"

"More like, wallow in frustration." Zach slumped onto a nearby rock. "This whole muscle-building thing… it's not working." Felix chuckled, a light, airy sound. "Training alone? Oh, Zach, that's only half the battle. It's all about nutrition." "I know, carbs and proteins," Zach groaned, reciting the mantra he'd heard a thousand times. Felix waved a dismissive hand. "Such pedestrian notions! You need… blue caviar." Zach blinked. "Blue caviar? Where am I supposed to find that?" "Ah, that's the fun part." Felix's eyes danced with mischief. "Follow the river to the Emerald Falls. Step into the water, behind the cascade, you'll find a cave. It awaits there." "Wait, what kind of fish produces blue caviar?" Zach was already picturing himself wrestling some exotic sturgeon. Felix simply smiled, a knowing, infuriatingly vague expression. "Patience, Zach. Some things are best discovered firsthand." He rose, smoothing his silk trousers. "Good luck! And bring some caviar for me too." "Wait!" Zach called out, a million questions crowding his mind. But Felix simply smiled, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes, and disappeared into the dappled sunlight. "The Emerald Falls?" Zach muttered, a shiver crawling down his spine by the thought of the exhausting hole day long hike through the wilderness. Still, the promise of a shortcut to his dream physique was too tempting to ignore.

The weekend arrived, and Zach, fueled by Felix's cryptic promise, embarked on his quest. He followed the Emerald River, its waters shimmering under the canopy, deeper and deeper into the untamed wilderness.

Zach’s trainers crunched on the overgrown path, each step heavy with anticipation and a growing sense of fatigue. The Emerald River snaked before him, its waters shimmering under the dappled sunlight that pierced through the dense canopy. He swatted at a persistent mosquito, the buzzing a minor irritation compared to the ache in his muscles. A day's journey it had been, just as Felix had said, a day stolen from his weekend and dedicated to this… this bizarre quest for blue caviar. Finally, the path opened to reveal ancient mermen statues, their stone faces weathered by centuries of mist and spray. They stood sentinel on either side of the river, guarding the entrance to the Emerald Falls. Zach gasped and his heart pounded with excitement; he was close.

The water cascaded down moss-covered cliffs, a roaring curtain of emerald green. The air thrummed with the falls' power, a primal symphony that resonated deep within his chest. Fishing rod in hand, Zach approached the riverbank. He scanned the churning water, searching for any sign of sturgeon. This whole thing felt absurd. Blue caviar? Magical muscle growth? Yet, Felix's confidence had been unsettlingly convincing. He set up his fishing rod, the familiar action grounding him amidst the fantastical surroundings. As he cast his line, a figure emerged from the depths of the pool. A merman, muscular and imposing, with a black tail that shimmered like obsidian, short, gelled black hair, and a stubble that shadowed his sharp features.

"What are you doing there?" The merman's voice was deep, resonating with an undercurrent of power. Zach, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a creature he thought existed only in myths, stammered, "Uhm... nothing." The merman rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "I see that you are fishing, and that's fine with me. I just wanted to know what fish you are after. By the way, my name is Caspian!" Zach blushed, his gaze darting away from Caspian's piercing emerald eyes. "I'm hitting for sturgeon, to get some blue caviar. I was told that it helps to gain muscles." Caspian threw back his head and laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the falls. "That doesn't work this way." He gestured dismissively at Zach's fishing equipment. "Let me help you!" Caspian plunged his hand into the water, emerging with a creature that made Zach’s stomach churn. It was a leech, but unlike any he’d seen before – thick, pulsating, and disturbingly large. Caspian laid it on the stone beside Zach. "What is that?" Zach asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Your ticket to bigger muscles," Caspian replied with a sly grin. Zach thought it was a special bait and reached for it, intending to hook it onto his line. But the leech was faster. It uncoiled with surprising speed, slithering over Zach's legs, a cold, slimy sensation against his skin.

"Hey!" Zach exclaimed, trying to shake it off. But the leech was relentless. It slithered upwards, disappearing beneath the hem of his shorts. Zach yelped, scrambling backwards. Panic flared as he felt something wriggling against his groin, a cold, insistent pressure. He clawed at his waistband, desperate to dislodge the creature. Then, a sharp, stinging pain erupted from his groin. He ripped down his shorts, his eyes widening in horror. The leech's mouth, a gaping maw ringed with tiny teeth, hat put his teeth into the base of Zach's shaft and was now fixed. "Get it off! Get it off!" Zach screamed, scrambling backward. He grabbed at the leech, trying to pry it loose. "Agh!" A wave of numbness washed over his legs, making them feel heavy and unresponsive. He looked up at Caspian, his eyes wide with fear. Caspian chuckled, a cruel glint in his emerald eyes. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. If you pull on it, the leech secretes a special secretion, which paralyzes your limbs—and eventually, your heart." Zach's blood ran cold. "But how can I get that thing off?" Caspian grinned, a flash of predatory amusement in his emerald eyes. "Not at all. Just enjoy!" "Enjoy?" Zach was bewildered, his eyes darting between the leech latched onto his cock and Caspian's unsettlingly gleeful expression. What was he supposed to enjoy about this? Then he felt it. A slow, deliberate caress as the leech explored the sensitive skin of his glans, a wet, insistent flick against his piss slit. A moan escaped his lips, involuntary and mortifying. A strange heat bloomed in his loins, eclipsing the initial fear and disgust. The leech continued its tantalizing ministrations, driving Zach to the edge of climax, then abruptly stopped. Zach gasped, his body aching with unmet need. "The leech subsists on your cum," Caspian purred, watching Zach's torment with undisguised pleasure. Desperation clawed at Zach. He was so close, yet the leech held him captive, denying him release. Hours crawled by, each moment a symphony of exquisite torture. The leech teased, retreated, and advanced, always stopping just short of the precipice. Finally, when Zach thought he could bear it no longer, the leech relented. A shuddering climax ripped through him, his body convulsing as he emptied himself into the leech's insatiable maw. Afterward, spent and disoriented, Zach felt a gnawing hunger. He caught a fish, gutted it, and started a fire. The flames danced, casting flickering shadows on the surrounding trees. "Why bother with that?" Caspian asked, arching an eyebrow. Zach shrugged, confused by the question. "I'm hungry." Caspian chuckled. "Suit yourself." Over the next few days, the leech's game continued. The periods of teasing grew longer, the pleasure more intense, and the frustration more unbearable. Zach noticed the leech growing larger with each climax, its body pulsing with stolen energy. He, too, was changing. His muscles grew denser, his frame broadening, and his appetite became insatiable.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session with the leech, he caught a fish, the familiar pangs of hunger biting at his stomach. As he prepared to clean it, a primal urge surged through him. He hesitated, then, driven by an overwhelming compulsion, devoured the fish raw, scales and all. The taste was wild, untamed, and shockingly satisfying. He ripped the flesh from the bone, relishing the wriggling life between his teeth. "That's more like it," Caspian said, his eyes gleaming with approval. The shift was complete. Zach was becoming something… else. With each passing day, Zach's transformation accelerated. His body became a sculpted monument of muscle.

But the changes weren't merely physical. His thoughts grew simpler, his desires more basic. He found himself seeking Caspian's approval, a deep-seated need to please his tormentor. "Is this good, Caspian?" he’d ask, flexing his biceps. Or, "Did I catch enough fish, Caspian?" Caspian would simply smile, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You are doing well, Zach. Very well indeed." Soon, Zach was a hulking mass of muscle, barely recognizable as the slender young man who had sought Felix's aid. He no longer bothered with fire. Fish were simply sustenance, devoured whole and wriggling. His movements became more animalistic, his thoughts clouded, his will diminished. He was aware of the change, a dull ache of loss buried beneath the rising tide of instinct. But the desire to please Caspian, the primal satisfaction of his ever-growing strength, eclipsed all else. One day, as he was wading in the river, he noticed something strange. Patches of scales were forming on his legs, shimmering like polished metal. Fear flickered in his eyes, a brief spark of his former self. He looked to Caspian, a question forming on his lips. But the words died in his throat. All that came out was a confused, "Caspian?" Caspian approached, his expression unreadable. "You are becoming what you were always meant to be, Zach. A magnificent specimen." Over the next few weeks, the scales spread, encasing his legs in a glistening, iridescent armor.

His feet fused together, forming a powerful, sturgeon -like tail.  His cock now nestled within a sheath in the tail, almost hidden. He looked, undeniably, like a merman. He stared at his reflection in the water, a grotesque parody of his former self. "What…?" Zach croaked, his voice thick with fear. "How can the leech survive under the skin of my tail?"   Caspian threw his head back, a booming laugh echoing across the falls. "There isn't a leech anymore. It is completely merged with you!"

He began to sing, his voice a deep, resonant baritone weaving an ancient melody in an alien language. A seam in Zach’s tail shimmered, then opened, revealing his cock, now strangely sensitive and pulsating. With a practiced stroke, Caspian’s hand encircled Zach’s shaft, milking him with firm, rhythmic motions. Zach moaned, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. “Oh, fuck…” Caspian continued to stroke, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. “Almost there, little fish.” Then, with a final, forceful stroke, Zach came. But instead of cum, a cascade of glistening blue caviar spilled from the tip of his cock, each tiny sphere catching the light like a miniature jewel. The caviar tumbled into a clam shell that Caspian held beneath, the shell filling rapidly with the precious substance.

Zach stared, mesmerized. All the anger, all the frustration he had felt towards Caspian, the torment of the leech, vanished in that instant. He realized Caspian hadn’t been cruel; he had been guiding him, helping him to achieve this. “Thank you so much, Caspian!” Zach grinned, blissful. “Now I can become a human again… a muscular human!” He reached for the shell, eager to possess the caviar that would restore him.

But Caspian’s answering smirk was cruel, predatory. He snatched the shell away, the blue caviar gleaming enticingly. "Caviar isn’t for livestock," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. Zach’s face crumpled. He stammered, confused. “Livestock? But… the caviar…, Caspian?” Caspian’s eyes glittered, emerald shards in the filtered sunlight. "And don't call me Caspian. It's 'your highness' to you. I'm the prince of these waters, and you? You are not even my subject. You’re nothing more than my… cattle!" Two other mermen materialized from the depths, their eyes cold and assessing. They seized Zach, their grip surprisingly strong. “Hey! Let me go!” Zach struggled, panic rising in his chest. He was a fool. He tried to fight, thrashing against their grip. But his muscles, newly grown, were no match for their aquatic strength. They dragged him down, deeper into the emerald abyss. Caspian chuckled, a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Don’t fight it, Zach. Embrace your new purpose. You will be well cared for, I assure you. And your caviar will be greatly appreciated.” The mermen hauled Zach through twisting tunnels, past kelp gardens and shimmering schools of fish.

In the coming weeks, they molded Zach into livestock. He fought, he resisted, he pleaded, but the mermen were relentless. Days blurred into a monotonous cycle of feeding, milking, and subservience. Caspian would sing to Zach, his voice a siren’s call, weaving promises of comfort and purpose. "Just relax, Zach," Caspian would coo, stroking his tail. "You're doing so well. Such beautiful caviar." Slowly, Zach’s resistance crumbled. The primal instincts, awakened by the leech, took over. He stopped thinking, stopped questioning, until he was nothing more than a compliant creature, grateful for the scraps they tossed him. He preened under Caspian’s touch and became accustomed to the milking, eager to offer up his bounty.  He even took pride in the quality of his caviar, in the rich blue hue and the perfect spherical shape of each glistening pearl. He was livestock, yes, but he was *good* livestock.

One morning, a ripple disturbed the tranquil surface of the river. Caspian, ever attentive, turned with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Ah, Felix. Always a pleasure." Felix strolled into view, his silk shirt catching the light. "Caspian, darling! You always have the best seafood. A stressful month, you know? I need a little treat." Caspian clapped his hands, a sharp, commanding sound. "Of course, Felix. Only the best for you." He gestured towards the water. "Zach!" From the depths, Zach emerged, his magnificent tail rippling. He held a shell, brimming with the shimmering blue caviar. His eyes, once so bright with ambition, now held a vacant devotion. "Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural rumble.

Felix smirked, his gaze lingering on Zach's transformed physique. "Wow, Zach got quite muscular! You've been taking good care of him." A flicker of something, recognition perhaps, sparked in Zach's eyes as he heard his name. Caspian beamed, a possessive hand landing heavily on Zach's head. "He has really developed into wonderful livestock!" He plucked the shell from Zach's grasp, offering it to Felix. Felix, always the connoisseur accepted it, delicately tasting the caviar. His eyes widened in delight.

"He's become quite docile, hasn't he?" Felix commented, watching Zach's reaction to Caspian's touch with amusement. "Hardly a trace of the human he once was." "That's the beauty of it," Caspian replied, his voice laced with possessive pride. "Complete control. Utter devotion." He squeezed Zach's cheek, his fingers digging in slightly. "Isn't that right, Zach?" "Yes, your highness," Zach murmured, his voice a low, submissive hum. He opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on Caspian's face. There was nothing else in his world. Felix chuckled again, shaking his head. "You truly have a talent for this, Caspian. Turning men into…well, this." He gestured towards Zach with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's quite impressive, in a disturbing sort of way." "He's almost ready," Caspian said with a grin. "Soon, he won't even remember his past life. He'll be nothing more than a vessel for producing caviar, completely and utterly mine." Felix nodded slowly, while popping another spoon of caviar. He strolled back along the riverbank and muttered to himself, "Another soul claimed, another wish twisted. Amusing, truly amusing." He laughed, a carefree, boyish sound that echoed through the trees, carrying no hint of the devastation he left in his wake.

As Zach watched Felix go, a faint echo of a memory stirring within him. The echo was quickly washed away by the overwhelming tide of Caspian's presence. He was livestock, and Caspian was his master. That was all that mattered. He lowered his head, content in his servitude, as Caspian led him back into the cool, dark depths. The world of human ambition, of striving and desire, was a distant, forgotten dream. He was home.

[sorcerer-felix]

Sorcerer Felix- THE ORIGIN

The wind whispered through the streets of Marsh Grove, carrying with it the scents of earth, moss and the salt of the nearby Ocean. At seventeen, Felix was already a sight to behold, with his golden hair glinting in the sunlight and those piercing blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He strolled through the market square with an effortless swagger, drawing glances from everyone around. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he smirked at his reflection in a shop window. “I’m destined for greatness!” he muttered with a vain smirk on his lips, adjusting his white t-shirt to better showcase his physique.

Felix strode confidently out of the town onto an overgrown path that led him to an old oak tree. Shadows danced among the leaves as Felix paced impatiently, his golden hair catching the light like a beacon.

“You think you can just waltz in here and demand to learn magic?” The voice of Mara, the Wicca coven’s leader, cut through the air like a knife. Dressed like a hippie, she stood tall, her expression a mix of disappointment and disdain. Felix smirked, undeterred. “I have what it takes. I could be the most powerful mage you’ve ever seen. Just imagine—” “Magic isn’t a game, Felix!” she snapped, her tone sharp. “It requires respect, dedication, and humility—qualities you lack.” He shrugged, feigning indifference. “C’mon, just give me a chance! I can be powerful, and I know you can feel it.”

Mara's eyes narrowed. “This is why we won’t teach you. Your arrogance will only lead to chaos.” Felix scoffed, waving her off as he turned on his heel and left the clearing, his charm failing to mask the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had always felt destined for more than this sleepy town could offer.

Years later, Felix found himself in a bustling university town, a world away from Marsh Grove. Life buzzed around him—students, laughter, and the eclectic mix of coffee shops and bookstores. Now twenty, he stood in front of the Mystic Moon, a magical shop in the university town.

Felix, with his trademark smirk, sauntered into the Mystic Moon, the bell above the door tinkling a greeting only he seemed to notice. The air hung thick with the scent of dried herbs and something faintly metallic, like old coins. He frequented the shop not for its crystals or incense, but for Dorian. The clerk's gaze lingered a beat too long, his smile a touch too eager whenever Felix entered the shop. Dorian was an open book, a fact Felix intended to exploit. Dorian, a handsome man and Wicca in his 30s, with kind eyes and a gentle smile, was clearly smitten. Felix, despite his straight inclinations, saw an opportunity. He needed magic, and Dorian seemed willing to offer more than just enchanted trinkets. Felix feigned interest in spell books and tarot cards, all the while calculating his approach. Each visit was a reconnaissance mission, mapping Dorian's desires and vulnerabilities. He spotted Dorian behind the counter, arranging a display of crystals.

"What do you think about dark magic?" Felix asked, leaning against the counter of Mystic Moon, his eyes gleaming with a playful curiosity. Dorian, usually so composed, fidgeted slightly. "Dark magic is bad! It twists the nature of things and destroys what we Wicca want to heal!" Felix feigned a thoughtful expression, then countered, "But dark mages are often really hot!" The words hung in the air, a deliberate barb aimed at Dorian’s hidden desires. Dorian's face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and longing swirling in his eyes. He was secretly in love with Felix and realized that he is obviously not Felix's typ. Even though he knew Felix was straight, yet Felix's words still ignited a flicker of longing in his heart. Felix, sensing the shift in Dorian's demeanor, smiled and slid a picture across the counter. It was an AI-generated image of Dorian: clad in a tight, unbuttoned black silk shirt revealing a hairy chest, and tight black suit pants. His hair was slicked back, a stark contrast to his usual gentle appearance.

"Look, how sexy you would look as a dark mage!" Felix said, pointing at the picture. Dorian stared at the image, a mix of fear and lustful excitement swirling within him. “That’s not me, Felix! It can’t be me!” Felix leaned closer, his voice dropping to a flirty whisper. “But his silk shirt is really hot. You should wear one as well, you would look amazing!” Dorian imagined the sleek fabric on his skin, how it would hug his strong pecs. Felix pressed on, "And maybe some silk boxers as well, which are caressing your glans soft and cool!" Dorian felt his cock stir in his pants, the image of himself in black silk now vivid and tantalizing. To break the tension, he said, with a hint of sarcasm, knowing that Felix is straight, “If you would date me, then I would wear such clothes!” Felix smirked, reaching under the counter. He produced a black silk shirt and black silk boxers, placing them on the counter with a flourish. “I guess we have a date!”

Dorian blinked, hardly believing Felix's offer. He hesitated for a heartbeat, the offer hanging in the air like a potent spell. He couldn’t dismiss the chance to spend time with Felix. He grabbed the silk shirt and boxers, retreating to the small restroom in the back of the shop. The silk felt cool against his skin as he changed, the fabric whispering promises of a different version of himself. Emerging, he smoothed the shirt over his chest, the unbuttoned front revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his torso. "You look amazing!" Felix grinned, his eyes raking over Dorian. Dorian smoothed the silk over his chest, feeling the fabric cling to his skin. "I feel so sexy today," he purred, reveling in the newfound confidence the clothes provided. He glanced down, feeling his cock throb against the confines of the silk boxers. Felix noticed the growing bulge, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "I would enjoy watching you jerk off!" Felix declared, his voice laced with suggestive delight. Dorian’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and arousal flooding his senses. He hesitated for a moment, then, emboldened by Felix's gaze, he began to caress his cock through the fabric.

"You are doing great!" Felix cheered, his voice laced with excitement. Dorian’s breath hitched as he continued, the silk a tantalizing barrier against his skin. He grew closer to the edge, moans escaping his lips. "That is so hot!" Felix exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Couldn’t you summon some dark magic, just for the mood? You would be so sexy, doing it! That would top it off." Dorian paused, his arousal warring with his conscience. "Only something small, e.g. killing that potted plant over there?" Felix pressed. "I would never kill something living!" Dorian refused, his voice firm. "I have a better idea," Felix suggested, his tone persuasive. "You could transform my clothes, so that I fit a bit more to your style!" Dorian considered the request, seeing little harm in it and hoping to further entice Felix, to show him that he could be someone different. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy, and summoned the dark magic. A visible force shimmered around Felix’s clothes, the air crackling with arcane energy. Felix watched in fascination as his clothes transformed, morphing into a light-blue silk shirt with short sleeves, unbuttoned to his waist, and tight grey nylon pants.

He examined himself in a nearby mirror, a grin spreading across his face. Felix felt a surge of triumph, realizing he had successfully manipulated Dorian into using dark magic. Felix seduced, "That’s amazing! I feel so horny in such clothes! Shall I suck your cock?"  

Despite his straightness, Felix was willing to pay the price and suck Dorian’s cock, viewing it as a small sacrifice to finally gain the magical power he craved. Dorian could hardly believe his ears, but the offer was too tempting to resist. He nodded eagerly, his eyes burning with desire. Felix wasted no time, dropping to his knees and pulling down Dorian’s silk boxers. He began to caress Dorian's glans with his tongue, sending shivers of pleasure through Dorian’s body. His tongue flicked and swirled. Dorian moaned, reveling in the sensation of Felix's lips on his cock. The dark magic amplified the lust, igniting a fierce desire within him. Felix sucked deeper, his expert technique driving Dorian wild. Lost in pleasure, Dorian surrendered to the moment, his body trembling with anticipation. Felix focused on making Dorian cum, hoping to further weaken his resolve. Dorian cried out, his body convulsing as he climaxed, shooting his load into Felix's face. He collapsed onto a chair, exhausted but euphoric. Felix wiped his face, a strange mix of disgust and satisfaction swirling within him. Felix caressed Dorian’s thighs, his touch both gentle and possessive. "That was amazing, Dorian," Felix purred, his voice low and seductive. "But you need to keep it a secret. You know, the Wicca want you to be weak and obedient, not so strong and manly as you are now!" Dorian considered his words, a seed of doubt planting itself in his mind. . "You might be right," he conceded, "they have never let me step into higher ranks in the coven." "They only pretend to be your friends," Felix continued, his voice dripping with honeyed persuasion, "but in reality, they just want to keep you under their thumb." Dorian found truth in Felix's words, a seed of resentment beginning to sprout within him. "The Wicca don’t mean good with you," Felix pressed on, his voice gaining urgency. "You need to subdue them and take their magic power!" Dorian hesitated, his conscience warring with the dark path Felix was urging him down. "I can’t do that!" Felix began to caress Dorian’s cock through the fabric of his silk boxers, his touch igniting a fresh wave of desire. "You need to render them harmless!" Dorian moaned, his resolve crumbling under the onslaught of pleasure. "Yes, I will subdue them and take their magic power away!" "And then you will give me their power," Felix added, his voice a seductive whisper. "We will be perfect partners – two dark mages!" Dorian’s eyes glazed over, his mind consumed by lust and ambition and his will completely surrendered to Felix's influence. "Yes!" he gasped. Felix abruptly stopped caressing Dorian, his demeanor shifting from seductive to cold and calculating. "We will see each other again when you have taken the magic power of your first Wicca-victim," he said, his voice laced with a predatory edge. "I will make it a celebration of lust for you when you provide me with their magic power!"

Felix stood before Dorian’s apartment door a week later, anticipation bubbling within him. Dorian’s call, the news of a Wiccan’s stolen magic, had electrified him. Power, true power, felt tantalizingly close. The moment he had craved for so long was at hand. He pressed the buzzer, a thrill coursing through his veins. The door hissed open, revealing a starkly modern space. Black and chrome dominated the luxurious living room, the open layout accentuated by a glass staircase that seemed to float in the dim, accented lighting.  

This wasn't how he has imagined the apartment form the Dorian he knew from the dusty magic shop. Dorian appeared, a triumphant glint in his deep blue eyes. "I have it," Dorian said, his voice a low hum. He extended a hand, offering a small vial filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid. "Pure magic power, Felix. Ready to become a mage?"

Felix snatched the vial, his heart pounding. "How do I use it? Do I drink it?" Dorian laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down Felix’s spine. "No, Felix. It needs to be absorbed. Apply it to your skin." He gestured towards the bedroom. Felix didn't need to be told twice. He tore off his blue parker with its fur collar, tossing it carelessly onto a chrome bench. Buttons popped as he ripped open his white shirt, his fingers clumsy with haste. His pants followed, landing in a heap at his feet. He stood in the impressive bedroom, clad only in blue briefs and his open shirt.

The bedroom was dominated by a massive bed draped in black silk sheets. He stared at the vial. Here it is, he thought. Everything I ever wanted. He popped the vial’s cork and poured the liquid onto his hands, then eagerly began to rub it into his skin. A wave of warmth spread through him, a delightful tingle that quickly intensified into a potent arousal. He moaned, his body growing heavy, his muscles loosening. The lust built rapidly, overwhelming his senses. He collapsed onto the silk sheets and writhed on the bed, his body arching uncontrollably. Dorian watched from the doorway, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes burning into Felix. Dorian reached out, his fingers brushing against the elastic of Felix's briefs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he swept Felix's briefs aside, exposing his throbbing cock without fully removing the fabric. He began toying with Felix's cock, his fingers teasing and tantalizing, while simultaneously pinching and twisting his nipples. At the same time Dorian unzipped his pants, his own cock sprang forth, thick, engorged and slicked with pre-cum. He held it to Felix's lips, a silent invitation. “That’s it, Felix,” Dorian purred, his voice dripping with dominance. “So horny and at my mercy.” Felix gasped and tried to resist, but his body refused to obey. He was trapped, a puppet dancing to Dorian's tune.

Dorian pressed on, his voice laced with command. "Submit to me, Felix! Suck my cock and become my obedient servant!" Felix was shocked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. However, the lust was too potent, the magical influence too strong. Felix's will crumbled. He opened his mouth and took Dorian’s cock, his tongue flicking over the head, savoring the taste of pre-cum. Dorian groaned, lifting Felix’s legs and positioning himself between them.  He gripped his saliva-slicked cock and pressed it against Felix's tight hole, the head slipping in with a wet squelch. Felix cried out, struggling against the intrusion. "Please, Dorian, stop it! I just wanted to become a mage!" Dorian's grin widened, a chilling display of cold amusement. “I just have started,” he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. “Soon, you'll be mine. I will enjoy you, every inch of you.” Felix felt helpless, trapped in a nightmare of his own making. But beneath the fear, something else stirred: a strange, forbidden pleasure. He hated this, but a part of him, a dark, nascent part, thrilled at the sensation of being dominated. Dorian sensed the shift in Felix's emotions, his grin widening. "You have become a mage, Felix. But you will also be mine." Dorian’s dominance fueled Felix’s lust, igniting a primal desire to submit. His resistance crumbled, replaced by a perverse longing to be dominated, to be used. “Yes, Master,” Felix moaned, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “Teach me what it means to be a mage!” Dorian accelerated his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. "Cum the first time as a mage with my cock inside you, and you will be mine, body and soul. Cum for me, Felix!" The command, the raw power in Dorian’s voice, shattered Felix's remaining control. He bucked against Dorian, his body convulsing, and with a strangled cry, he shot his load onto his own lips, the taste of his own semen mingling with sweat. Moments later, Dorian shuddered, emptying his load deep into Felix’s ass. As Felix lay exhausted on the bed, gasping for breath, Dorian leaped to his feet, his energy seemingly boundless. “It’s time to get dressed, Felix,” he declared, his voice brisk and businesslike.

With a snap of his fingers, clothes began to materialize around Felix's body: Black velvet pants hugged his hips, and a tight black silk vest with a deep neckline showcased his chiseled physique. Felix stared at his reflection in a nearby mirror, and a surge of pride coursed through him. He looked powerful, youthful, and undeniably sexy. He got a hard-on by his own sight and ran a hand over the smooth velvet of his pants, reveling in the sensation. Dorian smirked, watching Felix’s reaction. "I like that you feel so attractive," he said. "You were born for showing you off!"

"The girls will adore me!" Felix said, striking a pose. Dorian chuckled. "Sure, they will adore, desire, and serve you," he said. "But I don't think that girls are too much of interest for you anymore." Felix looked perplexed. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You are a dark mage now," Dorian explained. "Girls won't be enough for you anymore. You desire more - men!" Felix was shocked. "What, I'm gay now?" Dorian just laughed. "It's about dominance and power," he said. "And you will crave for it. That is the nature of dark magic. Don't you feel drawn to me, to my power?"  A vision flashed through Felix's mind: himself, kneeling before Dorian, serving him, obeying his every sexual whim. The image was shockingly arousing. "Yes, Master!" Felix moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Let me serve you, make me your pleasure boy!" Dorian threw back his head and laughed, a triumphant and possessive sound that echoed through the room. "That's the spirit, Felix!" he said. "But now it's time to hunt Wiccas, to strip them of their power. And you, my pleasure boy, will help me."

Time blurred. Dorian’s grip on dark magic tightened, twisting him into a figure of cruel authority. Evil dripped from his every word, every glance. Felix, however, remained untouched by darkness. His ethical compass spun wildly, but his playful spirit endured. He took nothing seriously, not even the dark magic coursing through his veins. "Another sacrifice awaits, my pretty mage,” Dorian purred, his voice a silken threat. Felix shrugged, adjusting his silk vest. “Wiccas are boring. Can’t we find someone more fun to corrupt?” Dorian’s eyes flashed. "The dark magic didn't affect you as I had expected," Dorian mused, circling Felix like a predator. "No evil, no dominance." Felix shrugged, flashing a disarming grin. "Why should I? Magic's just another toy." Dorian's eyes gleamed with disapproval. "You underestimate its power. It can corrupt, consume..." "Maybe," Felix conceded, his gaze flitting around the room. "But I'm too much fun to get corrupted."

[sorcerer-felix]

Sorcerer Felix - the Origin

The wind whispered through the streets of Marsh Grove, carrying with it the scents of earth, moss and the salt of the nearby Ocean. At seventeen, Felix was already a sight to behold, with his golden hair glinting in the sunlight and those piercing blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He strolled through the market square with an effortless swagger, drawing glances from everyone around. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he smirked at his reflection in a shop window. “I’m destined for greatness!” he muttered with a vain smirk on his lips, adjusting his white t-shirt to better showcase his physique.

Felix strode confidently out of the town onto an overgrown path that led him to an old oak tree. Shadows danced among the leaves as Felix paced impatiently, his golden hair catching the light like a beacon.

“You think you can just waltz in here and demand to learn magic?” The voice of Mara, the Wicca coven’s leader, cut through the air like a knife. Dressed like a hippie, she stood tall, her expression a mix of disappointment and disdain. Felix smirked, undeterred. “I have what it takes. I could be the most powerful mage you’ve ever seen. Just imagine—” “Magic isn’t a game, Felix!” she snapped, her tone sharp. “It requires respect, dedication, and humility—qualities you lack.” He shrugged, feigning indifference. “C’mon, just give me a chance! I can be powerful, and I know you can feel it.”

Mara's eyes narrowed. “This is why we won’t teach you. Your arrogance will only lead to chaos.” Felix scoffed, waving her off as he turned on his heel and left the clearing, his charm failing to mask the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had always felt destined for more than this sleepy town could offer.

Years later, Felix found himself in a bustling university town, a world away from Marsh Grove. Life buzzed around him—students, laughter, and the eclectic mix of coffee shops and bookstores. Now twenty, he stood in front of the Mystic Moon, a magical shop in the university town.

Felix, with his trademark smirk, sauntered into the Mystic Moon, the bell above the door tinkling a greeting only he seemed to notice. The air hung thick with the scent of dried herbs and something faintly metallic, like old coins. He frequented the shop not for its crystals or incense, but for Dorian. The clerk's gaze lingered a beat too long, his smile a touch too eager whenever Felix entered the shop. Dorian was an open book, a fact Felix intended to exploit. Dorian, a handsome man and Wicca in his 30s, with kind eyes and a gentle smile, was clearly smitten. Felix, despite his straight inclinations, saw an opportunity. He needed magic, and Dorian seemed willing to offer more than just enchanted trinkets. Felix feigned interest in spell books and tarot cards, all the while calculating his approach. Each visit was a reconnaissance mission, mapping Dorian's desires and vulnerabilities. He spotted Dorian behind the counter, arranging a display of crystals.

"What do you think about dark magic?" Felix asked, leaning against the counter of Mystic Moon, his eyes gleaming with a playful curiosity. Dorian, usually so composed, fidgeted slightly. "Dark magic is bad! It twists the nature of things and destroys what we Wicca want to heal!" Felix feigned a thoughtful expression, then countered, "But dark mages are often really hot!" The words hung in the air, a deliberate barb aimed at Dorian’s hidden desires. Dorian's face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and longing swirling in his eyes. He was secretly in love with Felix and realized that he is obviously not Felix's typ. Even though he knew Felix was straight, yet Felix's words still ignited a flicker of longing in his heart. Felix, sensing the shift in Dorian's demeanor, smiled and slid a picture across the counter. It was an AI-generated image of Dorian: clad in a tight, unbuttoned black silk shirt revealing a hairy chest, and tight black suit pants. His hair was slicked back, a stark contrast to his usual gentle appearance.

"Look, how sexy you would look as a dark mage!" Felix said, pointing at the picture. Dorian stared at the image, a mix of fear and lustful excitement swirling within him. “That’s not me, Felix! It can’t be me!” Felix leaned closer, his voice dropping to a flirty whisper. “But his silk shirt is really hot. You should wear one as well, you would look amazing!” Dorian imagined the sleek fabric on his skin, how it would hug his strong pecs. Felix pressed on, "And maybe some silk boxers as well, which are caressing your glans soft and cool!" Dorian felt his cock stir in his pants, the image of himself in black silk now vivid and tantalizing. To break the tension, he said, with a hint of sarcasm, knowing that Felix is straight, “If you would date me, then I would wear such clothes!” Felix smirked, reaching under the counter. He produced a black silk shirt and black silk boxers, placing them on the counter with a flourish. “I guess we have a date!”

Dorian blinked, hardly believing Felix's offer. He hesitated for a heartbeat, the offer hanging in the air like a potent spell. He couldn’t dismiss the chance to spend time with Felix. He grabbed the silk shirt and boxers, retreating to the small restroom in the back of the shop. The silk felt cool against his skin as he changed, the fabric whispering promises of a different version of himself. Emerging, he smoothed the shirt over his chest, the unbuttoned front revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his torso. "You look amazing!" Felix grinned, his eyes raking over Dorian. Dorian smoothed the silk over his chest, feeling the fabric cling to his skin. "I feel so sexy today," he purred, reveling in the newfound confidence the clothes provided. He glanced down, feeling his cock throb against the confines of the silk boxers. Felix noticed the growing bulge, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "I would enjoy watching you jerk off!" Felix declared, his voice laced with suggestive delight. Dorian’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and arousal flooding his senses. He hesitated for a moment, then, emboldened by Felix's gaze, he began to caress his cock through the fabric.

"You are doing great!" Felix cheered, his voice laced with excitement. Dorian’s breath hitched as he continued, the silk a tantalizing barrier against his skin. He grew closer to the edge, moans escaping his lips. "That is so hot!" Felix exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Couldn’t you summon some dark magic, just for the mood? You would be so sexy, doing it! That would top it off." Dorian paused, his arousal warring with his conscience. "Only something small, e.g. killing that potted plant over there?" Felix pressed. "I would never kill something living!" Dorian refused, his voice firm. "I have a better idea," Felix suggested, his tone persuasive. "You could transform my clothes, so that I fit a bit more to your style!" Dorian considered the request, seeing little harm in it and hoping to further entice Felix, to show him that he could be someone different. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy, and summoned the dark magic. A visible force shimmered around Felix’s clothes, the air crackling with arcane energy. Felix watched in fascination as his clothes transformed, morphing into a light-blue silk shirt with short sleeves, unbuttoned to his waist, and tight grey nylon pants.

He examined himself in a nearby mirror, a grin spreading across his face. Felix felt a surge of triumph, realizing he had successfully manipulated Dorian into using dark magic. Felix seduced, "That’s amazing! I feel so horny in such clothes! Shall I suck your cock?"  

Despite his straightness, Felix was willing to pay the price and suck Dorian’s cock, viewing it as a small sacrifice to finally gain the magical power he craved. Dorian could hardly believe his ears, but the offer was too tempting to resist. He nodded eagerly, his eyes burning with desire. Felix wasted no time, dropping to his knees and pulling down Dorian’s silk boxers. He began to caress Dorian's glans with his tongue, sending shivers of pleasure through Dorian’s body. His tongue flicked and swirled. Dorian moaned, reveling in the sensation of Felix's lips on his cock. The dark magic amplified the lust, igniting a fierce desire within him. Felix sucked deeper, his expert technique driving Dorian wild. Lost in pleasure, Dorian surrendered to the moment, his body trembling with anticipation. Felix focused on making Dorian cum, hoping to further weaken his resolve. Dorian cried out, his body convulsing as he climaxed, shooting his load into Felix's face. He collapsed onto a chair, exhausted but euphoric. Felix wiped his face, a strange mix of disgust and satisfaction swirling within him.

Felix caressed Dorian’s thighs, his touch both gentle and possessive. "That was amazing, Dorian," Felix purred, his voice low and seductive. "But you need to keep it a secret. You know, the Wicca want you to be weak and obedient, not so strong and manly as you are now!" Dorian considered his words, a seed of doubt planting itself in his mind. . "You might be right," he conceded, "they have never let me step into higher ranks in the coven." "They only pretend to be your friends," Felix continued, his voice dripping with honeyed persuasion, "but in reality, they just want to keep you under their thumb." Dorian found truth in Felix's words, a seed of resentment beginning to sprout within him. "The Wicca don’t mean good with you," Felix pressed on, his voice gaining urgency. "You need to subdue them and take their magic power!" Dorian hesitated, his conscience warring with the dark path Felix was urging him down. "I can’t do that!" Felix began to caress Dorian’s cock through the fabric of his silk boxers, his touch igniting a fresh wave of desire. "You need to render them harmless!" Dorian moaned, his resolve crumbling under the onslaught of pleasure. "Yes, I will subdue them and take their magic power away!" "And then you will give me their power," Felix added, his voice a seductive whisper. "We will be perfect partners – two dark mages!" Dorian’s eyes glazed over, his mind consumed by lust and ambition and his will completely surrendered to Felix's influence. "Yes!" he gasped. Felix abruptly stopped caressing Dorian, his demeanor shifting from seductive to cold and calculating. "We will see each other again when you have taken the magic power of your first Wicca-victim," he said, his voice laced with a predatory edge. "I will make it a celebration of lust for you when you provide me with their magic power!"

Felix stood before Dorian’s apartment door a week later, anticipation bubbling within him. Dorian’s call, the news of a Wiccan’s stolen magic, had electrified him. Power, true power, felt tantalizingly close. The moment he had craved for so long was at hand. He pressed the buzzer, a thrill coursing through his veins. The door hissed open, revealing a starkly modern space. Black and chrome dominated the luxurious living room, the open layout accentuated by a glass staircase that seemed to float in the dim, accented lighting.  

This wasn't how he has imagined the apartment form the Dorian he knew from the dusty magic shop. Dorian appeared, a triumphant glint in his deep blue eyes. "I have it," Dorian said, his voice a low hum. He extended a hand, offering a small vial filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid. "Pure magic power, Felix. Ready to become a mage?"

Felix snatched the vial, his heart pounding. "How do I use it? Do I drink it?" Dorian laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down Felix’s spine. "No, Felix. It needs to be absorbed. Apply it to your skin." He gestured towards the bedroom. Felix didn't need to be told twice. He tore off his blue parker with its fur collar, tossing it carelessly onto a chrome bench. Buttons popped as he ripped open his white shirt, his fingers clumsy with haste. His pants followed, landing in a heap at his feet. He stood in the impressive bedroom, clad only in blue briefs and his open shirt.

The bedroom was dominated by a massive bed draped in black silk sheets. He stared at the vial. Here it is, he thought. Everything I ever wanted. He popped the vial’s cork and poured the liquid onto his hands, then eagerly began to rub it into his skin. A wave of warmth spread through him, a delightful tingle that quickly intensified into a potent arousal. He moaned, his body growing heavy, his muscles loosening. The lust built rapidly, overwhelming his senses. He collapsed onto the silk sheets and writhed on the bed, his body arching uncontrollably. Dorian watched from the doorway, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes burning into Felix. Dorian reached out, his fingers brushing against the elastic of Felix's briefs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he swept Felix's briefs aside, exposing his throbbing cock without fully removing the fabric. He began toying with Felix's cock, his fingers teasing and tantalizing, while simultaneously pinching and twisting his nipples. At the same time Dorian unzipped his pants, his own cock sprang forth, thick, engorged and slicked with pre-cum. He held it to Felix's lips, a silent invitation. “That’s it, Felix,” Dorian purred, his voice dripping with dominance. “So horny and at my mercy.” Felix gasped and tried to resist, but his body refused to obey. He was trapped, a puppet dancing to Dorian's tune. Dorian pressed on, his voice laced with command. "Submit to me, Felix! Suck my cock and become my obedient servant!" Felix was shocked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. However, the lust was too potent, the magical influence too strong. Felix's will crumbled. He opened his mouth and took Dorian’s cock, his tongue flicking over the head, savoring the taste of pre-cum. Dorian groaned, lifting Felix’s legs and positioning himself between them.  He gripped his saliva-slicked cock and pressed it against Felix's tight hole, the head slipping in with a wet squelch. Felix cried out, struggling against the intrusion. "Please, Dorian, stop it! I just wanted to become a mage!" Dorian's grin widened, a chilling display of cold amusement. “I just have started,” he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. “Soon, you'll be mine. I will enjoy you, every inch of you.” Felix felt helpless, trapped in a nightmare of his own making. But beneath the fear, something else stirred: a strange, forbidden pleasure. He hated this, but a part of him, a dark, nascent part, thrilled at the sensation of being dominated. Dorian sensed the shift in Felix's emotions, his grin widening. "You have become a mage, Felix. But you will also be mine." Dorian’s dominance fueled Felix’s lust, igniting a primal desire to submit. His resistance crumbled, replaced by a perverse longing to be dominated, to be used. “Yes, Master,” Felix moaned, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “Teach me what it means to be a mage!” Dorian accelerated his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. "Cum the first time as a mage with my cock inside you, and you will be mine, body and soul. Cum for me, Felix!" The command, the raw power in Dorian’s voice, shattered Felix's remaining control. He bucked against Dorian, his body convulsing, and with a strangled cry, he shot his load onto his own lips, the taste of his own semen mingling with sweat. Moments later, Dorian shuddered, emptying his load deep into Felix’s ass. As Felix lay exhausted on the bed, gasping for breath, Dorian leaped to his feet, his energy seemingly boundless. “It’s time to get dressed, Felix,” he declared, his voice brisk and businesslike.

With a snap of his fingers, clothes began to materialize around Felix's body: Black velvet pants hugged his hips, and a tight black silk vest with a deep neckline showcased his chiseled physique. Felix stared at his reflection in a nearby mirror, and a surge of pride coursed through him. He looked powerful, youthful, and undeniably sexy. He got a hard-on by his own sight and ran a hand over the smooth velvet of his pants, reveling in the sensation. Dorian smirked, watching Felix’s reaction. "I like that you feel so attractive," he said. "You were born for showing you off!"

"The girls will adore me!" Felix said, striking a pose. Dorian chuckled. "Sure, they will adore, desire, and serve you," he said. "But I don't think that girls are too much of interest for you anymore." Felix looked perplexed. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You are a dark mage now," Dorian explained. "Girls won't be enough for you anymore. You desire more - men!" Felix was shocked. "What, I'm gay now?" Dorian just laughed. "It's about dominance and power," he said. "And you will crave for it. That is the nature of dark magic. Don't you feel drawn to me, to my power?"  A vision flashed through Felix's mind: himself, kneeling before Dorian, serving him, obeying his every sexual whim. The image was shockingly arousing. "Yes, Master!" Felix moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Let me serve you, make me your pleasure boy!" Dorian threw back his head and laughed, a triumphant and possessive sound that echoed through the room. "That's the spirit, Felix!" he said. "But now it's time to hunt Wiccas, to strip them of their power. And you, my pleasure boy, will help me."

Time blurred. Dorian’s grip on dark magic tightened, twisting him into a figure of cruel authority. Evil dripped from his every word, every glance. Felix, however, remained untouched by darkness. His ethical compass spun wildly, but his playful spirit endured. He took nothing seriously, not even the dark magic coursing through his veins. "Another sacrifice awaits, my pretty mage,” Dorian purred, his voice a silken threat. Felix shrugged, adjusting his silk vest. “Wiccas are boring. Can’t we find someone more fun to corrupt?” Dorian’s eyes flashed. "The dark magic didn't affect you as I had expected," Dorian mused, circling Felix like a predator. "No evil, no dominance." Felix shrugged, flashing a disarming grin. "Why should I? Magic's just another toy." Dorian's eyes gleamed with disapproval. "You underestimate its power. It can corrupt, consume..." "Maybe," Felix conceded, his gaze flitting around the room. "But I'm too much fun to get corrupted."

[sorcerer-felix]

The Sport Shorts

@samstud9 asked:

Can you do a cool story with AI and this stud coming through the door in tight compression?

Felix stood at the window, the morning sun casting a warm glow on his face. He adjusted his crisp white t-shirt,  straightening his back, ready for some sport in the fresh air. Beyond the glass, the vibrant green park beckoned, a tempting sight for any outdoor enthusiast. Just as he admired the lush scenery, his friend Marco arrived, his sporty frame filling the doorway.

"Hey, Felix! Ready to hit the gym?" Marco's voice boomed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Felix turned with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, Marco, my friend. Another beautiful day, and you want to spend it lifting weights? The great outdoors awaits! How about a game of tennis? Or a run through the park?"

Marco shook his head, his expression resolute. "No way, buddy. Leg day can't be skipped! Besides, who wants to get all sweaty and dirty outside when we can crush some reps in a nice, air-conditioned gym?" "But the fresh air, the freedom of the open road—" Felix began, his plea cut short by Marco's insistence. "Nope. Gym. Now. Let's go!" As Marco headed towards the bathroom, his steps echoing through the house, Felix sighed. He knew this argument was futile; Marco was a gym rat through and through. With a resigned chuckle, he waited, wondering why Marco was taking so long. "Everything alright in there?" Felix called out, his voice carrying a hint of concern. The bathroom door opened, and Marco stepped into the hallway, a sight that made Felix's jaw drop. Gone was the slightly built, average-looking guy he knew. Instead, a buff, broad-shouldered hunk filled the space, clad only in tight compression shorts.

Felix's eyes widened, taking in the bulging muscles and the confident stride of this new Marco. With a grin that threatened to split his face, Marco announced, "Check it out, Felix! I found this magic gym shorts in your drawer. I guess now you need to go with me to the gym as it is actually your fault that I’m a gymshark now!” Felix raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You see, my dear Marco," Felix began, his voice laced with amusement, "It's not my fault you decided to rummage through my drawers and put on those shorts without my consent. And might I add, those aren't gym shorts. They are, in fact, cycling shorts, and your sudden muscle growth was merely a temporary phase in the magical transformation process." Marco looked utterly confused. "What do you mean, Felix? I don't understand." His voice held a hint of panic as he tried to make sense of the situation.

As if on cue, the shorts began to emit a soft blue glow, and Marco's body underwent another astonishing change. His muscles, once bulging, deflated gracefully, as if the air had been gently released from a balloon. In mere moments, he stood before Felix as a slender, athletic cyclist, clad in a sleek full-body suit. "Ah, now we're talking," Felix said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Shall we embark on a cycling adventure? The great outdoors awaits us, my friend."

Marco, still processing the rapid transformation, shook his head, his voice laced with determination. "No, I must reverse this! I need my muscles back. Cycling... it's just not my thing. I mean, look at this outfit, it's so..." His voice trailed off as he became acutely aware of a peculiar sensation. A throbbing sensation emanated from his crotch, causing Marco to shift uncomfortably. He glanced down, his eyes widening at the sight of his now fully erect member, straining against the Lycra fabric. The cycling suit, designed for aerodynamics, left little to the imagination, and Marco's arousal was on full display.

"Oh, it seems you've discovered a newfound passion," Felix remarked, his voice laced with amusement. "Who knew cycling could be such a turn-on?" Marco's protestations faded into a low moan as he adjusted his position, trying in vain to conceal his burgeoning excitement. His body, once focused on pumping iron, now craved the rush of wind against his skin and the rhythm of the pedals. "Let's... go... for a ride," Marco moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, Felix, I need to feel the wind, the speed... Cycling makes me... so... horny!" Felix laughed, a light, musical sound that filled the room. "As you wish, my friend. I'll just change into something more suitable." He disappeared momentarily, returning in a crisp white cycling suit, his lean body mirroring Marco's newfound athleticism.

They ventured out, their bikes glistening in the sunlight. Felix, a picture of elegance, pedaled with effortless grace, while Marco, still adjusting to his new form, struggled to keep up. The wind whispered through their hair, the sound of tires on asphalt creating a rhythmic melody. As they cycled, Marco's initial discomfort transformed into pure pleasure. The sensation of the lycra against his skin, the breeze caressing his body, and the rhythmic motion of the ride sent shivers down his spine. His cock, still erect, throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the tight confines of the suit only adding to his arousal. They rode for miles, the countryside unfolding before them in a blur of green fields and golden sunlight. Felix, content with the day's events, smiled to himself, relishing the sight of his friend's newfound passion. And Marco, his face flushed and body glistening with sweat, pedaled on, his moans of pleasure carrying on the wind, a testament to the magical transformation that had taken place.

[sorcerer-felix]

I've never been the biggest guy about 5'5 and 180 Ibs. People think I am 10 years younger than I am (I'm 29). I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.

The gym buzzed with the sounds of grunting weights and the rhythmic thud of sneakers against treadmills. You watched, enviously, as the muscular men strutted around, their broad shoulders and commanding presence making you feel like a shadow in their midst.

You stood there in your oversized t-shirt, wishing you could be one of them—someone who could walk into a room and have everyone take notice. You were halfway through your lukewarm set of curls when you caught sight of Felix, the sorcerer. He was running on a treadmill, his blond hair flowing behind him like a golden banner.

You approached, half out of desperation and half out of curiosity. “Felix,” you said, slightly out of breath, “I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.” With a playful grin, Felix kept running. “That can be arranged, but it’s not just about appearance. It’s also about attitude. You need a mentor who shows you how to be commanding!” He paused his run, producing a tarot card. “Here, take this. It’s the Wheel of Fortune. If you find the right mentor, lay the card on the table and he will magically become your mentor and teach you everything you need to know!” You took the card, though skepticism nagged at the back of your mind. Still, you had nothing to lose.

Over the next few days, you wandered the gym, eyeing potential mentors. You’d approached some of the guys at the gym, hoping for guidance, but they were all brawn and no brains—mere meatheads with egos to match their muscles. Each encounter left you feeling more deflated. You wanted someone who could teach you not just how to lift weights but how to command a room, to embody the confidence that oozed from those muscular titans. Each failed attempt left you feeling more frustrated and disheartened. When you arrived at the office that day, the last thing you needed was Hank, your colleague. He strode in, exuding an air of arrogance that made your skin crawl. He was tall—towering, really—his muscles rippling beneath a fitted shirt that did little to hide his vanity. You hated him for it, yet a small part of you envied the way he filled the room with his presence. You despised him for his cocky swagger, but even more for the way his confidence made you feel small. "Hey, buddy," he said, stepping behind your chair, his voice a low rumble that dripped with condescension. You could feel the warmth of his body close to you, and his hands landed possessively on your shoulders. “Uh, Hank,” you started, trying to suppress the flutter of irritation in your chest. “Can you maybe not—” “Relax.” He leaned closer, peering at the screen. “What’s this? Your latest failure? Just look at this,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the discomfort.

Then, disaster struck. Suddenly, the tarot card Felix had given you slipped from your shirt pocket, fluttering to the desk like a fallen leaf. You watched in disbelief as it landed, the edges glowing a magical blue. “What’s that?” Hank asked, his tone shifting from casual to curious.

Before you could reply, the card began to glow with a magical blue light. You stared in disbelief as the image on the card shifted to reveal a young man in a black jumpsuit, opened to the waist, with a dog mask covering his face. The imprint read "The Dog".

Your breath hitched. “Wha—?” Your body began to shift, warmth enveloping you as if you were being wrapped in a cocoon. “No! Wait!” you gasped, but it was too late. You fell to your knees, your shirt and dress pants melting into the silky fabric of the jumpsuit. A mask materialized over your face, obscuring your features. Hank’s laughter echoed in your ears, deep and mocking. “I guess I will name you Rowdy!” he said, his voice booming with satisfaction. You wanted to protest, to scream and tell him to fuck off, but all you could manage was a muffled growl, the mask constricting your voice.

The transformation continued, and you felt your body reshape, fur sprouting from your skin. You whimpered, a sound that was no longer human, as you became a sleek black dog. You looked up at Hank, who grinned down at you, a smug satisfaction radiating from him. “Good boy,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

Hank’s voice became a beacon of command in your mind, and you found yourself craving his approval, yearning for his direction. “Let’s train, Rowdy,” he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “You’re going to learn how to fight.” Days turned into weeks, and the training was brutal. Hank pushed you to your limits, and each fight honed your aggression and dominance.

The damp, concrete cellar was a far cry from the polished gym where you once felt so small. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood, the walls echoing with the growls and barks of dogs locked in combat. You were now one of them—at least in the sense that your body has been transformed into dogs'. The weight of your new body felt powerful, but beneath that strength was a struggle against the obedience that Hank had drilled into you. “Rowdy!” Hank barked, his voice a commanding rumble that sent a shiver through you. You instinctively dropped to all fours, your muscles taut and ready, eyeing him with a mix of anticipation and resentment. “Get over here!” You couldn't help but follow, the instinct to obey surging within you. As you approached, drool dripped from your lips, a sign of your growing ferocity, but inside, a part of you seethed. “Damn it,” you thought, your mind fighting against the dog inside. Hank crossed his arms, watching you with a smirk. “You’re getting better, boy. Can’t wait to see you tear into that mutt tonight. You’ve got the spirit of a champion.” His eyes shone with sadistic pride. You growled low in your throat, the sound escaping before you could suppress it. The thrill of the fight surged in your veins, a hunger that eclipsed the small, shy man you used to be. But it was Hank’s voice that kept you in line, the master that had reshaped you into this beast. “Sit!” he commanded, and against your will, your body complied, your haunches hitting the ground. “Good boy!” he praised, and the words stirred something within you—an odd mix of pride and loathing. As the days wore on, you felt the relentless rhythm of training seeping into your very being. The more you fought, the more you craved it. Every victory in the pit heightened your adrenaline, but it was always Hank’s approval that lingered in your mind. You hated the way it felt to seek his validation, yet there you were, locked in a cycle of obedience.

“Tonight’s fight is important,” Hank said, leaning closer, his breath hot against your face. “You need to show everyone who’s boss. You’re not just a dog; you’re my dog.” The possessiveness in his tone made you bristle, the primal part of you wanting to snap at him for his arrogance, yet you found yourself nodding, the obedience coursing through you like a drug. “Good. Now let’s see that aggression.” He tossed you a worn-out training dummy, and you lunged for it, sinking your teeth into the fabric. The thrill of tearing it apart sent sparks of pleasure through your body, and you felt a growl rumble deep in your chest. “Yeah, that’s it! Let it out!” Hank shouted, his voice a mix of excitement and authority. You could see the gleam in his eyes, and you knew he delighted in your ferocity, feeding it like a twisted form of affection.

Hours later, you stood in the makeshift pit, the crowd surrounding you like vultures, ready to witness the carnage. Your muscles were taut, every fiber of your being ready to explode into action. Hank stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on you, the way he commanded the room making you feel both empowered and trapped. “Show them who you are, Rowdy!” he shouted, and you surged forward, the thrill of the fight consuming you. You felt the adrenaline wash over you, the instinct to dominate and destroy taking control. As you lunged at your opponent, the rush of aggression overwhelmed you. You could almost taste the blood, the primal joy of the fight igniting a frenzy within.

But just as you were about to unleash your full power, a voice broke through the haze. “Rowdy, enough!” Hank’s command cut through the chaos, and you skidded to a halt, panting, your body trembling with pent-up energy. You hated that you had to obey, but the truth was, you had become his. “Good boy,” Hank cooed, and while your instincts roared for freedom, a part of you reveled in the praise. The thrill of the fight became an addiction, and you would often find yourself in a frenzy, teeth bared, ready to tear into anything that moved. It was Hank’s steady grip on your collar that pulled you back from the edge of madness when you teetered too close. In that moments, you were his perfect fighting dog, powerful and aggressive, yet completely obedient. The conflict within you grew, but as you locked eyes with Hank, you felt an odd sense of belonging.

One evening, after a particularly brutal training session, you lay stretched out on a couch in Hank’s luxurious loft. The scent of leather and cologne hung in the air as you panted, muscles sore but exhilarated. Hank leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. Felix strolled in, his presence lighting up the room. “How is he performing?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Hank chuckled, pride swelling in his chest. “He’s a good boy now. The perfect fighting dog—strong, aggressive, but totally loyal towards me!” Felix raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, I guess you’ve taught him everything he needs to know!”

With a flick of his wrist, Felix summoned the magic again. You felt a tingling sensation wash over your body, and in an instant, everything changed. The world around you twisted and blurred, and suddenly, you were standing upright. You looked down, astonished to find yourself transformed back into a human. But you weren’t the meek office worker anymore. Gone was the timid, thin frame. Instead, you were a muscular, handsome man with black hair and a rugged stubble.

You felt the power coursing through you, the confidence radiating from your very being. “What the—” you started, your voice deep and commanding now. You flexed your arms, marveling at the definition in your biceps. Hank looked you up and down, a satisfied grin on his face. “Rowdy, you look incredible,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “I knew you had it in you.” Felix clapped his hands together, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “See? I told you it was all about attitude. You’ve become the man you always wanted to be!” You felt a surge of energy, a newfound sense of self. “I… I never thought I could be like this,” you said, testing your voice. It was rich and resonant, dripping with authority. Hank stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You’ve earned this. You fought hard, and now you have what you wanted—a commanding presence.” As you looked around the luxurious loft, you realized just how far you had come. The weight of your insecurities melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose. “What’s next?” you asked, the thrill of excitement bubbling in your chest. Felix grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, it’s time for you to embrace your new life. The world is yours to conquer, Rowdy.” With a shared nod between the two of you, a new chapter began. You felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by the thrill of limitless possibilities. You were ready to command attention, to assert yourself in a world that had once overlooked you. As laughter echoed through the loft, you knew that you were no longer the invisible worker—you were Rowdy, a force to be reckoned with.

[sorcerer-felix]

I wanted to grant his wish, albeit with a twist

@chevy-gold asked:

Hey bruh, dis iz Chevy, of da golden army. After itz azz wuz filled by Sxodnir, it feels a strong desire 2 becum lik him! Plz, may it join him?

The warm afternoon sun bathed Felix's luxurious estate in a golden glow, highlighting the meticulously manicured gardens and the grand mansion's elegant architecture. As Felix tended to the roses, his delicate hands carefully pruning the vibrant blooms, a familiar figure approached the garden fence. "Hey, bruh! It's me, Chevy, from da Golden Army!" The voice boomed, filled with enthusiasm and a hint of arrogance.

Felix straightened up, his blue eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Chevy, the muscular right-winger of the local soccer team. Chevy's dark brown hair was slicked back, and his golden clothes hugged his athletic frame, showcasing his well-defined physique. "Chevy, what brings you here?" Felix asked, his tone polite yet guarded. He knew all too well that Chevy's charm and good looks often masked a shallow mind. Chevy’s eyes, though bright, held a vacant expression as he answered Felix. "After itz azz wuz filled by Sxodnir, I feels a strong desire 2 becum lik him! Plz, may I join him?" Chevy's request was bold, driven by his envy of Sxodnir's newfound charm and success. "And what makes you think you can be like Sxodnir?" Felix's voice dripped with disdain, his lips curling in disgust at the mere thought.

"Well, I mean, we're both good-looking, right? And I wanna be more like him, ya know, charm everyone ..." Chevy's vacant eyes lit up with excitement, his confidence bordering on arrogance. Felix suppressed a shudder, the idea of this chav in his home, even as a servant, was appalling. But an idea sparked in his mischievous mind, a way to rid himself of this nuisance and have some entertainment in the process. "You do know that Sxodnir’s purpose is to serve my fun, don't you?" Felix asked, his tone light and playful. "Yeah, Felix, I understand, fun huhuhu!" Chevy's laughter was crude, his misunderstanding of Felix's words apparent. "So, Chevy, are you willing to be more than just a common jock? Are you ready to serve my entertainment with a bit of sophistication?" Felix's voice was laced with false encouragement, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Chevy's face split into a wide grin, his dimples deepening. "Yeah, I'm in! Let's do this!" Felix snapped his fingers, and a sphere of blue light materialized, hovering between them. "This will transform you, but it might be a bit... uncomfortable." Chevy's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded eagerly. "Bring it on! I can handle it." The blue light enveloped Chevy, and he let out a muffled scream as the transformation began. His body contorted, muscles shifting and reshaping. Despite the pain the transformation process let Chevy get a boner in anticipation of becoming like Sxodnir. But suddenly his skin took on a metallic sheen, turning a deep golden hue. He sank to his knees, his cries of pain echoing through the garden. Felix watched with a mix of fascination and amusement as Chevy's form changed. His limbs elongated, becoming sleek and smooth. His facial features morphed, the strong jawline softening, and his eyes transforming into sleek headlights while his joints grinding as they transformed into gears. The pain was excruciating, but as the transformation reached its climax, Chevy's boner became a gear shifter and his cries turned into the deep, masculine roar of an engine. Within moments, where Chevy had knelt, a classic golden Porsche now sat, its engine purring softly.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Felix said, addressing the car as if it were still Chevy. "You're now a symbol of sophistication and power. A true work of art." Chevy, or rather, what was once Chevy, felt an overwhelming sense of frustration as he realized his new form. He had envisioned himself as a powerful himbo demon, a transformation that would elevate his status and grant him the respect he craved. But now, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. With a deep, rumbling growl, he revved his engine, the sound echoing through the air like a primal scream. "Ah, Chevy, my dear friend," Felix's voice was laced with amusement as he approached the car. "I must say, you've never sounded more delightful and your vocabulary has certainly improved." Chevy's tires squealed in protest, the rubber screeching on the pavement. He wanted to scream, to shout at Felix for this cruel twist of fate. But all that escaped was a frustrated engine roar. "Don't be so glum," Felix continued, running his fingers along the Porsche's smooth hood. "I assure you, this new body of yours is far more sophisticated than your previous state. And you'll be the ultimate entertainment for me, my dear car." The young sorcerer's eyes sparkled with mischief, and he couldn't resist the urge to tease his creation when Jaxor strolled onto the pavement. "Now, let's see how you handle a real driver."

Jaxor, the tall, striking demon with golden wings and an aura of raw power, stepped forward, his eyes widening at the sight of the Porsche. "Master, this car is a work of art. May I?" He gestured towards the car, his voice laced with excitement. "Be my guest, Jaxor," Felix replied with a wave of his hand. "I believe you'll find it quite an experience." Jaxor's eyes lit up, and he slid into the driver's seat of the Porsche, now Chevy's prison.

As he started the engine, a deep, throaty purr reverberated, sending a shiver through Chevy's metallic frame. Jaxor's hands, skilled and confident, grasped the gear shift, and Chevy felt an unexpected sensation—a tingling pleasure as if his cock were caressed. "This baby's got some power," Jaxor murmured, his voice low and sensual. He ran his hand along the gear shift, his touch lingering, and Chevy's engine purred in response, the growls turning into a low, satisfied hum. Chevy felt his consciousness shift. The constant caresses from Jaxor's hands, unknowingly stroking his former manhood, were driving him wild. The more Jaxor drove, the more Chevy's thoughts blurred, his human desires giving way to the primal instincts of a machine. Jaxor took the Porsche for a spin, the wind whipping through his hair as he navigated the streets with ease.

With each shift of the gears, Chevy felt a jolt of horny pleasure, his engine roaring in response. The sensation was overwhelming, and by the time Jaxor returned, Chevy's longing for his human form had faded. He was now a car, a mere object, and he craved the touch of his owner, Felix. Jaxor stepped out of the Porsche, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That was incredible, Felix. The car handles like a dream. I've never driven anything quite like it." Felix cackled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Jaxor. And to think, this car was once that dim-witted soccer player, Chevy. I've given him a new purpose, one that suits his limited intellect." Jaxor's eyes widened in surprise. "Chevy? The right-winger? But how...?" Felix waved his hand dismissively. "It's a simple matter of wish-granting, my dear Jaxor. I merely gave him what he desired, with a little twist of my own. And now, he's the perfect blend of form and function." The demon shook his head, a mix of awe and disbelief on his face. "Master, you never cease to amaze me. To think, I once played against Chevy on the field, and now he's this elegant car. It's quite the upgrade, I must say." Felix's laughter filled the air, and Chevy, now fully accepting his new existence, longed to be driven again. The car's engine purred softly, a silent testament to its new-found loyalty to its owner.

As the two conversed, the car seemed to shimmer, its paint shifting and transforming before their eyes. Jaxor, his amber eyes widening in amazement, whispered, "Master, the car... it's changing." Felix, his lips curling into a mischievous smile, nodded. "Indeed, Jaxor. My magic is at work." As they observed, the golden hue faded, replaced by a pristine white that seemed to reflect the clouds above. The transformation was swift and silent, leaving no trace of its previous golden glory.

Jaxor, his expression shifting from wonder to confusion, asked, "But why the change, Master? The gold was... unique." Felix's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Chevy, as he was known, was the epitome of a chav, and I couldn't bear the thought of his essence lingering. Now, the last trace of his chav nature is erased," Felix declared, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "White is the epitome of class, a sophisticated understatement. I must admit, I expected more resistance from him."Jaxor watched, captivated by the sorcerer's power. “But... is Chevy... truly content as a car?" Felix's smirk grew wider, "Oh, he doesn't even remember his human life. He's fully embraced his new identity, he is now an object, a possession, and nothing more." The Porsche purred, its engine humming softly, as if in agreement. "Hah! I knew it!" Jaxor's laughter filled the air, "Who would've thought Chevy would find his true calling as a Porsche! This is priceless!" Felix's laughter joined Jaxor's, echoing across the driveway, a sinister melody that hinted at the power and cruelty hidden beneath their light-hearted conversation.

[sorcerer-felix]

A Life Reimagined

@innermostthoughtsartappreciation asked:

I desire to be transformed completely. To not only have a new body and personality, but a completely new life past, memories, present, and reality too. Can you change all of that?

You watched the sun stood high in the blue sky as you stood on the calm sidewalk in a upper-class area of the town. You had made a choice, a bold one, and now you were on your way to meet Felix, the sorcerer who promised to grant your deepest desire: a complete transformation. You stood outside Felix’s luxury apartment, the kind of place that gleamed with old-money charm, intimidating in its opulence. You took a deep breath, pushing down the discomfort of feeling out of place. This world, so polished and white, seemed foreign to you, a dark-skinned man with a yearning for transformation. You took a deep breath and stepped through the door, the air inside thick with the scent of expensive cologne. “Ah, you made it!” Felix’s voice rang out, smooth and welcoming, as he appeared in the hallway. He wore a light blue silk shirt that shimmered under the soft lights, and his blond hair fell artfully over his forehead.

“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.” “No, I’m here,” you replied, your voice steadier than your heart felt. “I want this. I desire to be transformed completely. To not only have a new body and personality, but a completely new life, past, memories, present, and reality too.” Felix smirked, a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. “That’s the spirit! Come, let me show you my lab.” He motioned for you to follow him, weaving through the opulent furniture that felt foreign to you. As he led you deeper into the apartment, your anticipation mingled with anxiety. You entered a room filled with strange devices and glass tubes, each filled with colorful liquids that swirled like trapped rainbows.

A central glass tube dominated the space, and Felix gestured toward it with a flourish. “For your extensive wish, it makes sense to split you into your components and rearrange you,” he said, his tone almost playful. You swallowed hard, uncertainty gnawing at you. “Components?” “Yes! Your intellect, your appearance, your very essence. It will all be distilled into vials.” He grinned and stepped aside. “Just step inside the tube.” With a deep breath, you walked toward the glass structure. With a shaky breath, you climbed into the tube. The door sealed shut, and suddenly, a wave of vibrant colors enveloped you. *Ssssssshhh* The sound of your body dissolving into smoke echoed in your mind, the pain ripping through you like a thousand needles.

You would have screamed if your mouth hadn’t already transformed, disintegrating into a cloud of swirling hues. Felix’s voice drifted through the haze. “Don’t worry. It’s all part of the process.” As your essence condensed into small vials, you fought to hold onto your consciousness. What remained of you was an array of colorful vials. You were aware, but detached, witnessing as Felix, now wearing a lab coat, took notes and began to categorize your essence. “Intellect, prowess, libido…” He continued to write, categorizing you like an object rather than a person. Then, his pen ran dry. “Hmm,” he mused, glancing at a vial containing your skin color. “You had more than enough dark pigments anyhow!” He filled the pen with the liquid, and you felt a jolt of anger surge through you.

Felix mixed your essence with other vials, shaking them until a muscular torso began to form within a new vial.

A sense of delight washed over you, but it quickly faded as Felix placed the vial on a cupboard, leaving you in limbo.

The weeks that followed your transformation had been a blur of anticipation and anxiety. You had no idea what Felix had in store for you, and the wait felt excruciating. Then, one day, the moment of truth arrived. Miles, the chairman of a renowned corporation, entered Felix's lab, exuding an air of distinction. His gray hair and tailored pinstripe suit exuded wealth and maturity. Felix, with a mischievous glint in his eye, greeted him warmly. "Hey, Miles! I have something special for you today. The perfect solution to your little problem." Miles' eyes lit up with curiosity. "I'm all ears, Felix. What have you got?" With a dramatic flourish, Felix presented the vial containing your essence. "This, my friend, is the fountain of youth you've been seeking. A new you, ready to be unleashed." Miles took the vial, his fingers trembling slightly. "Extraordinary. How do I...?" "Just uncork it, my dear Miles. The rest will take care of itself." Felix's voice was laced with amusement. As Miles left the lab, you felt a sense of foreboding. What would become of you now?

In the luxurious bathroom of a high-end hotel, Miles stood before the mirror, his eyes fixed on the vial.

With trembling hands, he uncorked it, and a thick, blue smoke began to swirl within. The smoke, a manifestation of your essence, tried to escape, to find its own form, but it was drawn inexorably towards Miles. *No, please!* you screamed in your mind, but an irresistible force was pulling you towards him. The smoke merged with Miles, and you felt your consciousness blending with his. It was like being submerged in a rushing river, unable to swim against the current. The transformation was rapid and intense. Miles' body changed, his skin tightened, wrinkles disappearing, his hair darkening, and his physique becoming muscular and youthful and finally he sprouted a goatee. His gray suit transformed into a sleek dark blue silk shirt and dark green silk pants, emphasizing his new, younger self. "Incredible!" Miles exclaimed, his voice now deeper and more resonant. He flexed his arms, admiring his reflection. "I feel like a new man!"

You were now a part of Miles, sharing his body, his thoughts, and his desires. His libido surged, and you could sense his arousal, his cock straining against the silk fabric. You tried to protest, to make your presence known, but he was oblivious to your cries. *This is amazing!* Miles thought, *I feel powerful, virile. And look at me—young, fit, and wealthy. I'm unstoppable!* His arrogance and self-absorption were suffocating and his thoughts were a stark contrast to your values. His mind was devoid of empathy, focused solely on wealth, success, and self-gratification. He stroked his new body, his hands running over his chest and abs, and you felt disgusted, wishing you could separate yourself from him. As Miles admired his reflection, his hand drifted lower, caressing his crotch. *I could get used to this*, he thought, a satisfied hum escaping his lips, "Mmm..." You cringed, feeling trapped and violated. As he reveled in his new body, you cursed Felix, "Felix, you motherfucker!" You didn't ask to be a mere power boost for some wealthy businessman. Sure, you had wanted a new life, a transformation, but not like this. A prisoner in a stranger's body and mind, and the realization hit you hard. Felix had not given you a new life; he had taken your essence and used it to empower another—a man whose values were antithetical to everything you stood for. Little did you know, Felix's plan was far more intricate than either of you could have imagined. As you struggled to adjust to your new reality, Felix was already setting the stage for his next move, one that would change the course of your existence forever.

Meanwhile, in the luxury confines of Felix's lab, Felix stared at an empty vial, an amused expression playing on his lips. “Let’s see what we have here,” he murmured, as a blue liquid began to fill the glass. The secrets of Miles’ corporate empire were materializing in the blue liquid, siphoning away from him like sand through an hourglass. Such was the concealed cost of the transformation, and it was now being paid by the unsuspecting Miles.

“Such a shame,” Felix mused, “to lose all that potential.” A glint of satisfaction sparkled in Felix’s eyes as he lifted the vial to his lips. “Cheers!” he exclaimed, downing the contents in one swift motion. In an instant, his lab coat transformed into a luxurious dark-grey pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt, and a blue tie that seemed to shimmer with power. “Well, well, well,” he remarked, admiring his reflection. “Looks like I’m moving up in the world.”

A moment later, he stood in the same high-end hotel where Miles had just undergone his transformation. “Hey Felix, great to see you! Thanks for my transformation, it’s awesome!” Miles voice dripped with gratitude, blissfully unaware of the cost. “Happy you like it!” Felix replied, feigning sincerity. The smirk on his face betrayed him, hinting at something more sinister. “Guess with a body like this, I can work a bit less and enjoy my wealth!” Miles boasted, puffing out his chest. “First,” Felix interrupted, his tone shifting. “Let’s talk about the price of that transformation.” “What do you mean?” Miles asked, confusion knitting his brow. “You’ve lost all important information about your company and the secrets of its products,” Felix explained, amusement dancing in his eyes. Miles’ expression morphed from confusion to shock. “Felix, without the information, my corporate wouldn't be competitive! I need that knowledge back!” Panic seeped into his voice, the realization hitting him like a cold wave. “Relax,” Felix said, a playful glint in his gaze. “I have the knowledge now, and I will share it with you. Just transfer 30% of your shares to me, and everything will be fine again.” “Thirty percent?” Miles echoed, disbelief coloring his voice. He ran a hand through his dark hair, the reality crashing down on him. “That’s a lot! I wouldn’t have a majority anymore!” “Better than losing everything you’ve built,” Felix replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Think of it as a... partnership.” Miles hesitated, his brow furrowed. “I don’t like this. You’re taking advantage of me.” Felix shrugged, the glimmer of innocence in his demeanor undiminished. “It’s business, Miles. You wanted to be young and fit. This is the price of your wish.” With a long exhale, Miles relented. “Fine. I’ll do it. Just... make sure I don’t lose my company.” “Of course!” Felix chirped, a grin splitting his face.

The next day the air in the office hummed with unspoken anticipation as Miles adjusted his collar. You felt a flicker of hope in Miles, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. He wore a dark blue silk shirt that hugged his newly toned body, and the tight pants accentuated his muscular thighs. He looked like a man reborn—no, transformed. He had spent years building his empire, and today, he would flaunt his transformation. “Wow, this is going to be something,” Miles murmured, a grin spreading across his face. “I can’t wait to show these old dogs what I’m made of now! Let’s see how they react,” he said, opening the door and striding into the boardroom. Confidence radiated from him, the kind that came with age and power, now paired with a fresh body. You felt a chill wash over you as you entered the room in his mind, watching through his eyes. The room was filled with younger versions of the old board members—each one with a well-groomed goatee and a confident smile.

“What the hell?” Miles exclaimed. “They look just like me!” You could feel the betrayal coursing through him, but it mirrored your own horror. *Felix must have mixed potions with my essence for all of them,* you realized, panic surging.  It drove you nearly mad to be so close to your own fragmented self, scattered among these men. The sensation was maddening, a cacophony of identities colliding within you. You wanted to scream, but you just hadn't a mouth to scream anymore. “Felix, you little—” Miles muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the door. Just then, Felix sauntered in, his blond hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, dressed in an immaculate dark-blue pinstripe suit. He wore a smug grin that made your stomach churn.

“Gentlemen!” Felix’s voice sliced through the tension in the room. “Welcome to today’s board meeting! First of all, I’d like to thank you for transferring your shares to me, granting me a delightful 76% ownership of this lovely company.” A wave of murmurs passed through the group. Miles felt a knot tighten in his stomach and his expression faltered. “Wait, what? 76%? You can’t just—” Miles started, but Felix held up a hand, cutting him off. “Secondly, I propose we proclaim me as chairman. Don’t bother expressing your thoughts on the matter, as my vote has already sealed the deal.” He waved dismissively, his confidence radiating like heat from a flame. “Let’s focus on what’s important. Up to work, boys—earn some money for me!” Felix leaned back, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “And do me a favor, please wear more professional clothes. Your silk shirts and tight pants belong in a club, not an office.” Miles felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He was being dismissed as chairman, reduced to a mere asset in Felix's game. *This is ridiculous,* he thought, anger brewing inside him. But you didn’t notic as your mind was racing due to a new sensation. *What is happening?* You struggled to concentrate, the sensation of being splintered into countless pieces making the room spin. Whispers of thoughts and ambitions enveloped you, each board member a reflection of your essence—fragments of who you once were, now scattered among men who didn’t understand your values. As Felix continued to speak, his voice became a distant hum, a mere backdrop to your internal turmoil. Suddenly, a whisper danced in your mind, *“Don’t worry!”* It was Felix’s voice, echoing in your consciousness. *“Soon you will be more focused again!”* Relief and dread battled within you. You sensed something twisted beneath his playful tone. Then came his next revelation, cold as ice. *“Actually, you will be so focused after you've assimilated to your new existence that you will only have one target. You are the men's greed now.”* The realization hit you like a freight train. *What?* you screamed inwardly, panic rising. *I’m just… this?*  *“Yes,”* Felix responded, the gleeful tone in his voice unmistakable. *“You’ll appear in the particular man whenever one of them gets greedy. So I guess there’s a lot to do for you!”* Panic surged through you. *This can’t be happening.*

Your thoughts spiraled as the men’s ambitions surged around you, feeding off the greed you embodied. The envy simmering in the room was palpable, and it coursed through you like adrenaline. You were not a person anymore; you were a mere reflection of their desires. You sensed the greed simmering beneath their polished exteriors, and it was intoxicating. The thrill of ambition coursed through you, and you could feel how it twisted their thoughts. Yet, amid the chaos, a new realization began to take shape. You could influence them, stoke their desires. You sensed their eyes lingering on Felix, their thoughts turning lascivious. *More, we need to earn more,* you thought, your ambitions spiraling with their greed. *Felix, you need him! He would make a perfect trophy boy!* The idea thrilled you, a rush of power coursing through your fragmented essence. Suddenly, all inhibitions evaporated like morning mist. The greed within you surged, snaking through the men, igniting their ambition. You reveled in it, letting it swell until their thoughts became almost primal. “Felix looks good enough to eat,” one of them murmured, eyes dark with want. Another chimed in, “I’d love to see him in lace briefs, sprawled on a silk bed, offering himself submissively.”

You chuckled silently, the chaos of their desires intertwining with your own. You were no longer just a whisper; you were the embodiment of their ambition, their greed, and it felt intoxicating. Their ambitions and lusts fueled you. As they plotted and schemed, you reveled in the knowledge that you were the catalyst for their most primal instincts. “Gentlemen,” Felix said, oblivious to the storm brewing around him, “let’s get to work. I expect results.” And as they responded with fervent nods, you smiled inwardly, the thrill of control washing over you. *Yes, this is just the beginning.*

[sorcerer-felix]

I am an old man past his prime. I wish I had worked on my muscles more than read books. Can you help me trade my books for muscles in the past?

You wandered through the sleek, modern library, the bright daylight streaming through expansive glass walls. Your frail frame felt out of place among the lithe, chiseled bodies of the college students surrounding you. They laughed, their voices echoing like cheerful chimes as they gathered in clusters, their vitality almost overwhelming. You sighed, the weight of regret heavy on your shoulders. If only you had prioritized physical strength over dusty tomes in your youth. As you turned another corner, you spotted Felix lounging on a nearby reading table, flipping through an ancient tome. He looked like a golden-haired angel, his light blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

You approached him, heart racing at the thought of his rumored powers. “Felix,” you called, your voice barely above a whisper, “can you help me trade my books for muscles in the past?” He glanced up, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Sure!” he replied, the word dripping with playful confidence. Before you could react, a book flew open, its pages glowing with a bright, ethereal light. “What is happening?” Panic seized you as the light enveloped you, pulling you toward the pages. “Just the trade you wished for,” Felix said casually, his tone almost dismissive. “In the past, the books belonged to you, and now you will belong to a book!” With a final flash, the world around you blurred, and then—whoosh!—you stood in a vast, ancient bibliothek, filled with towering shelves that seemed to touch the heavens.

The scent of old parchment and leather wafted through the air, mingling with something fresh and invigorating that coursed through your veins. You looked down, astonished. Your body was transformed—muscular, fit, and radiating vitality. You felt as if you could lift a horse with ease. “Felix?” you called, your voice deeper now, more robust. But as if in answer, a swirling portal opened nearby, and you heard his voice echoing through the ether, “Time to hop into a book; your final destination!” “Wait! What do you mean?” you shouted, but it was too late. The portal sucked you in, and before you could brace yourself, you landed—thud!—on a dusty floor.

You rose to find yourself in an opulent stable, sunlight filtering through the high windows. The scent of hay and horseflesh filled the air.

You looked down—your outfit had transformed into a ruffled shirt and riding boots, fitting snugly against your new physique. The crisp, white ruffles of the shirt felt foreign against your skin as your fingers, now strong and calloused, brushed against the soft fabric of the riding boots. A sense of disorientation washed over you, but as you stared at the powerful stallion in the stall, a flood of knowledge entered your mind. You knew how to groom, feed, and care for these majestic creatures, and even more surprisingly, you possessed an innate understanding of the art of seduction. You raised your hands, feeling the strength in your arms. “I’m… stable master?” You muttered, disbelief lacing your voice.

"Hello, are you the new stable master?" A soft, melodious voice startled you. You turned to see Angelique, the young lady of the house, with her dark curls and innocent green eyes. She's a vision of youth and beauty, and her presence made your heart skip a beat. "I... yes, I am," you managed to replied, your voice deep and unfamiliar. "Father said you'd teach me to ride. I've always wanted to learn." Her voice was eager, and she took a step closer, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. You cleared your throat, feeling a surge of confidence that surprised even yourself. "Well, riding is an art, Miss Angelique. But first, let me show you something else." Your words came out in a low, seductive tone that you never knew you possessed. "Oh?" She bite her lip, a hint of curiosity and something more in her eyes. Without hesitation, you pulled her close, your hands gently grasping her waist. She gasped softly, but didn't resist. The atmosphere crackled with desire as you lean in, your lips brushing against her ear. Without another word your body responding to instincts you never knew existed. The hay crackled beneath you as you lay her down, the stable now your intimate playground. Her moans, soft and breathy, filled the air— "Oh... yes..."—as you moved with a rhythm that felt natural. In that moment, you are no longer a pensioner transported into a novel. You are the virile, passionate lover, and she is your willing partner. The scent of hay and horse faded into the background as the pleasure intensified, and you both screamed in unison, "Yes! Oh, yes!"

As you lay there afterward, catching your breath, you realized the extent of your predicament. "I seem to have become a character in one of those romance novels I used to scoff at," you muttered to yourself. The typical storyline of a forbidden love affair between a stable master and the young mistress of the house was now your reality, and there was no escaping it. Angelique, lying beside you, giggled. "I never knew riding lessons could be so... educational."

The grand mansion buzzed with excitement as the evening's festivities unfolded, a stark contrast to your usual quiet life as the stable master. Weeks had passed since your unexpected transformation, and you had settled into this new, younger body, embracing the unfamiliar strength and vigor. But that night, as you tended to the horses, your heart raced for a different reason. You spotted Angelique's three brothers returning from their studies in the city, their laughter echoing through the stables. Among them was Felix, the sorcerer who had sent you here, his presence an unexpected surprise.

You watched as the brothers, dressed in their fine city clothes, dismounted and handed over the reins. Their casual banter and easy smiles reminded you of your own youth, a life so different from your current reality. As they walked toward the mansion, Felix's gaze met yours, and he winked, a gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. You knew he was the reason for your peculiar predicament, and his presence made you uneasy. "Evening, stable master," one of the brothers greeted you, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "We've come to join the party. A shame you can't join us, isn't it?" You nodded, feeling the weight of your position. "I have my duties here, sir." "Duties, indeed," Felix chimed in, his voice laced with mockery. "But I'm sure you can spare a moment to ensure our horses are well taken care of." You swallowed hard, aware that these young men held power over you. With a nod, you set about grooming the horses, your hands moving with practiced ease, a far cry from your former self's clumsiness. As the party's laughter and music drifted from the mansion, you couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. The life of the gentry was so different from your own, and you wondered what it would be like to be part of it.

The party was in full swing, with music and laughter filling the air. You knew your role; you should have been tending to the horses, ensuring they were well-groomed for the guests. But a rebellious urge stirred within you. You wanted to see Angelique, the object of your scripted affection. Sneaking away from the stables, you made your way towards the mansion, your heart pounding with each step. The grand staircase, adorned with red carpet and ornate railings, beckoned you. As you ascended, your heart pounded, aware that you were breaking the rules.

"Well, well, if it isn't the stable master," Felix's voice startled you. "I thought this staircase was off-limits to the likes of you." You stuttered, caught in the act, "I—I... It's your fault! You put me in this romance novel!" Felix's laughter filled the hall, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did I? Well, then, don't keep Angelique waiting. She's a lovely girl, you know." You rushed past him, your face burning with embarrassment and desire. Angelique's room was at the end of the corridor, and you entered, finding her waiting. The encounter was passionate, fueled by the thrill of the forbidden. But as quickly as it began, it ended, and Angelique, satisfied, returned to the party. You remained in her room, waiting for the coast to clear.

But fate had other plans. The door swung open, and Angelique's three brothers strode in, their eyes narrowing at the sight of you. "What's the meaning of this?" The eldest brother, tall and broad-shouldered, steped forward, his voice cold. "We don't appreciate commoners like you taking advantage of our sister." You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as they advanced upon you. You could fight back, your muscles coiled and ready, but something hold you back. The knowledge of their status and the potential consequences kept you still.

"Strip," the middle brother commanded, his voice laced with disdain. You complied, your hands treming as you removed your clothes, revealing your muscular frame. The eldest brother approached, his eyes fixed on yours. "You think you can have our sister, is that it?" He pushed you onto the bed, his strength surprising you. "Well, we'll show you your place." You struggled briefly as he positioned himself, but the sensation of his hard cock pushing into you silenced your protests. The second brother, standing by the bed, grap your hair, forcing your mouth open. "Lick it," he growled, his cock hovering over your lips. You submit, your tongue flicking out to taste him, the salty pre-cum sending a shiver through you. The third brother, his eyes gleaming with excitement, took hold of your cock, stroking it in time with his brother's thrusts. "That's it, you filthy stable boy," the second brother taunted, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. "Suck it like you mean it." The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, moans, and grunts. You found yourself caught in a web of pleasure and shame, unable to resist the sensations coursing through your body. You found yourself lost in the moment, the shame and pleasure intertwining in a way that ignited a fire within. When they finished with you, leaving you a panting, sweaty mess on Angelique's bed, something had irrevocably changed.

In the days that followed, you avoided Angelique, her advances now unappealing. But the brothers, sensing your new desire, sought you out. Each time they returned from riding, they used your body, and you submitted willingly. "You're an eager one, aren't you?" the eldest teased after a particularly vigorous session. "We've discussed your position with Father," he informed you, his voice laced with satisfaction. "You're an eager servant, and we believe a lowly stable hand position would suit you far better than stable master." You stared at him, shocked by their intention to demote you, but your cock hardened at the thought of being degraded, and the brothers noticed. "Oh, he likes it," one of them said, smirking. "You like the idea of being put in your place, don't you? A stable hand, nothing more. That's all you deserve." You nodded, unable to speak, the shame and arousal overwhelming. "Excellent," the youngest brother said, high-fiving his siblings. "Our work here is done. Angelique is safe from this commoner's advances."

As they left, you realized the romance novel had taken an unexpected turn. Little did they know, you no longer wished to escape this world. The stable master's -or now the stable hand’s- desires had evolved, and the thought of being at the mercy of the brothers excited you more than any cheese romance ever could.

In a distant living room, Felix’s eyes gleamed as he read the unfolding events. "Well, this is an interesting development," he chuckled, setting the book aside. "Who knew this romance novel would take such a kinky turn? Might as well enjoy the show." He reclined in his couch, a mischievous smile on his face, and began to pleasure himself, his mind filled with the erotic scenes he had orchestrated.

[sorcerer-felix]

Cocksure in the Corporate World

Anonym hat gefragt:

Loved your last story. I am a female just trying to make it in a man's world. Can you show me what a life as a man would be like? I work in the corporate world.

In the bustling headquarters of a renowned corporation, you sat at your desk, meticulously reviewing the day's work. Your curly brown hair, a touch of casualness in an otherwise professional ensemble, frames your focused face. As a Senior Administrative Manager, you've climbed the corporate ladder with dedication and precision, ensuring every task for the Singapore branch is executed flawlessly. Your attention to detail is legendary among your colleagues, who often seek your guidance.

Especially Peter, your neighbor at the adjacent desk, seemed to rely on your support more than anyone else. Peter, a few years your junior, is the antithesis of your meticulous nature. His charm and intelligence are undeniable, but his approach to work is carefree, almost reckless. He's the life of the office, always sharing stories of his latest romantic conquests, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As you finished up the report, you can't help but reflect on your relationship with Peter. He's like a little brother to you, always in need of guidance, especially when it comes to his work. You've been cleaning up after him for years, ensuring his reports are accurate and his deadlines are met. Despite his lack of attention to detail, he's intelligent and likable, always bringing a smile to your face with his antics.

Suddenly, a hush fall over the office as your boss called Peter into his chamber. You exchanged a concerned look with Peter, who shrugged nonchalantly and headed into the meeting. You knew he's been a bit lax with his work lately, and you couldn't help but worry. "I've told you to be more careful, Peter," you muttered under your breath as you watched him go. "But don't fret, we'll sort this out." Time seemed to crawl as you waited for Peter's return. Finally, he emerged from the boss's office, a broad smile plastered on his face. "You'll never guess what!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "The boss offered me the Team Head position in Singapore!" Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you couldn't find your voice. You were happy for Peter, but the promotion stings. You've been working tirelessly, putting in long hours, and yet Peter, with his carefree attitude, has leapfrogged over you. "That's wonderful, Peter," you managed to say, forcing a smile. "Congratulations."

As you congratulated him, a part of you wondered if it's because he's a man. You shake your head, dismissing the thought. You've always believed in your abilities and worked hard to prove yourself in this male-dominated industry. Before you could dwell further, your boss called you into his office. You straightened your blazer and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Emily, I wanted to discuss the last report," your boss began, his tone serious. "There was a minor error in the footnotes." You felt your face flush, knowing full well that you pride yourself on your accuracy. "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again." "I expect better from you, Emily. Attention to detail is crucial in this role." He leaned forward, his expression stern. “See that it doesn't, Emily. Precision is key in our line of work. You're a valuable asset because of your attention to detail, but we need everyone to be on the same page." The frustration bubbled up, and you blurted out, "Or what? Will I get promoted like Peter? He's the one who made the mistake in the first place!" Your boss fixed you with a steady gaze. "Emily, you are precise and accurate, but Peter has leadership qualities. He inspires people, and look at how he's influenced you. You've been doing his work without complaint."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a hint of embarrassment. You nodded, choosing to remain professional, but inside, you were seething. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you head down to the café in the building's lobby. As you waited for your coffee, your mind raced. Is Peter really getting ahead because he's a man? You clenched your fists, the steam from your coffee mirroring the heat in your veins. "You look like you could use a friend," a voice said, breaking your train of thought. You looked up to see a handsome young man with sparkling blue eyes and stylish blond hair. He was wearing a white silk suit, an unusual choice for the corporate setting.

"I'm Felix," he introduced himself with a charming smile. "You look like you've had a rough day. Care to talk about it?" There's something innocent and disarming about his demeanor, and you found yourself spilling your frustrations to this stranger. You felt a physical pull towards him, a sensation you haven't experienced in a while. So, you told him about Peter's promotion, your boss's comments, and your concerns about gender bias. "I would give my life to understand the man's world," you sighed, more to yourself than to Felix. Felix' eyes twinkled with mischief. "Deal," he said, and a blue light emanated from his palms, enveloping you in a surreal glow. The world went dark, and when you regained consciousness, everything felt... different.

Your senses were heightened, and you were acutely aware of your surroundings. But something was off. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Panic rose within you as you realized you couldn't move. Then, a familiar voice echoed in your mind, “What the hell just happened?” It was Peter, and he sounded just as confused. “Emily? Is that you?” “Yes, it's me!” you responded, relief flooding through you. “But what's going on? Why can't I move?” “I... I think you're me now. Or rather, you're my...” Peter's voice trailed off as he took in the situation. Your mind cleared, and the realization hit you both at once. You, Emily, had become Peter's penis. Your consciousness was intertwined with his, and you could feel his emotions as if they were your own. The only remnants of your former self were the curly brown locks on Peter's head and the impressive appendage dangling between his legs. Peter, now aware of your presence, turned to Felix, who was still standing nearby, a satisfied grin on his face. "What did you do? Why is Emily... why am I...?" Felix's playful demeanor remained unchanged. "She wanted to understand the man's world, so I granted her wish. Now she can experience it firsthand." He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you wish it to be different?" Peter's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head, his thoughts flooding with images of potential transformations. "No, I... I don't want to change anything. I just want to understand what's happening." Felix laughed, a light, carefree sound. "Then enjoy the experience! It's not every day you get to share a mind with your colleague's most prized possession."

As Felix walked away, Peter's panic set in. He had a few days off to prepare for his move to Singapore, and now he had to deal with this—with you. “I can't believe this is happening,” he thought. “And you're in my head, reading my every thought!” “I know, I'm sorry. But we have to figure out how to fix this,” you pleaded. “We need to find Felix and make him change us back!” Peter's thoughts turned to his promotion and the responsibilities that awaited him in Singapore. “I can't risk changing anything right now. I need to focus on my new role. Besides, I never knew you felt that way about my promotion. You were jealous?” “I... yes. I guess I was. I worked so hard, and I thought I deserved it more than you did. I'm sorry, Peter,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed by your own thoughts. Peter was quiet for a moment, considering your words. “It's okay. I understand. But I can't risk going back to Felix. Not yet. I need to get used to this... new situation.” Later that evening, Peter stood in front of the mirror, examining his new appearance. He ran his fingers through the curly brown hair, once a part of you, now framed his face, and he considered cutting it. "Please, don't," you pleaded in his mind. "I loved my hair. It's all I have left of my old self." Peter's hand hovered over the scissors, then dropped to his side. "Fine, I'll keep it," he conceded.

He looked down at his body, now enhanced by your presence, and his eyes landed on his crotch. He cupped his hands around you, and you twitched involuntarily at his touch. “I have to admit, the extra length and girth feel pretty good,” he thought with a smirk. “Don't you dare!” you screamed in his mind, as you realized his intention to pleasure himself. Peter jumped, startled by your outburst, and quickly withdrew his hand. “Okay, okay! I won't. But you're part of me now, and I can't help but notice how much better I look and feel.”

As Peter sat down to review the reports, you felt a sense of urgency. The documents contained crucial information about the Singapore branch, and you knew every detail had to be scrutinized. But Peter, never one for meticulousness, skimmed through the pages, his eyes barely grazing the words. “Slow down,” you urged him mentally, your voice a mere whisper in his mind. “We need to go over these carefully.” He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “Emily, I just want to get a general idea. I’ll read them thoroughly later.” “But—” You tried to protest, but he cut you off. “I need a break. I’ll head to the gym, clear my head. We can finish this later.” You felt a surge of annoyance. This was not how you would approach such an important task. But as you were now a part of Peter, your influence was limited. At the gym, Peter went through his workout routine, his movements fluid and effortless. You couldn’t help but admire his physical prowess, but your focus remained on the reports. “Peter, we should get back to the office. Those reports won’t read themselves.” He grunted as he lifted a set of weights, his muscles straining. “Later. I need to blow off some steam first.” Your frustration grew with each passing minute. “Peter, please, we can’t afford to waste time. This is important!” Suddenly, his mental voice boomed in your shared consciousness, making you flinch. “That is my life, Emily! You are just my cock now, so shut up!” The force of his words took you aback. You had not expected such a powerful assertion of dominance. You felt a momentary silence, a realization that your influence over him was not as strong as you had hoped. Peter finished his workout, his body glistening with sweat. As he stepped into the shower, you felt the warm water cascading over your shared body, a strange sensation that you were still adjusting to. “These long hairs are getting in the way,” he thought, running his fingers through the curly locks. “I should get a haircut.” “No!” you protested, a sense of panic rising within you. “Please, don’t cut it. It’s a part of me, of who I was.”

He ignored your plea, and soon, Peter found himself in a barber’s chair, the familiar brown curls falling around him, a stark contrast to the stylish short cut that remained. “Yes, finally,” he thought, looking at his reflection with satisfaction. “I’m back to myself.” You felt a pang of loss, a sense of your former self slipping away.

But there was no time to mourn as the evening unfolded and Peter settled in to watch some TV. The remote clicked, and the screen flickered, landing on a channel you never expected to see. "Whoa, porn!" Peter's eyes widened, and you felt a rush of blood, a sensation you had never experienced before. "Stop!" you screamed in his mind. "This is inappropriate! We can't just—" "No, Emily," Peter interrupted, his voice firm. "I'm not changing the channel. I'm a man, and this is what men do. You're a part of me now, so deal with it." You felt violated, exposed, as his hand reached down, cupping you, his cock, possessively. "No, please," you begged, your voice weak. "This is wrong." "It's not wrong, it's natural," Peter said, his voice low and husky. "You're my cock now, and you'll do what cocks do." Peter’s hand wrapped around you, stroking, massaging. “This is my life,” he said, his voice low and determined. “You’re a part of me, and this is what I need.” You tried to resist, but the sensations overwhelmed you. Your protests turned to desperate moans as pleasure consumed you. “Yes... more...” you found yourself begging, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the pleasure intensified. “Faster... please...” Peter’s hand moved in rhythm with your desperate pleas, and you felt yourself nearing the brink. “Yes... so... horny...” you screamed in his mind as the climax hit. The release was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a burst of ecstasy that left you trembling. As the pleasure subsided, you felt a mix of emotions—exhaustion, satisfaction, and a strange sense of shame. You had been reduced to a mere instrument of pleasure, and despite your resistance, you had relished the experience. Peter, seemingly unaffected by the moral implications, turned off the TV and headed to bed, leaving you to process the events of the day. You were now more than ever aware of your new reality and the challenges that lay ahead.

The journey to Singapore was a blur of airports, planes, and jet lag. As you dangled between Peter's legs, the excitement of this new chapter in his life is palpable. But something has shifted within you, Emily. The assertiveness you once possessed has faded, and you find yourself hesitating to offer suggestions or voice your thoughts. Perhaps it was the way he firmly established his dominance during that intimate moment, but you can't deny the change in dynamics.

As Peter stepped into the bustling office, you felt his nerves, but also his determination. He was ready to take on this challenge, and you couldn't help but admire his spirit. The day flew by in a blur of meetings and introductions. Peter was charming and charismatic, effortlessly navigating the corporate world. "That went well," Peter thought to himself as he sat at his new desk.

You felt a twinge of unease as you realized your influence over him was waning. "Hey, I'm still Emily!" you protested in his mind as the days went by, your voice becoming more desperate. You wanted to remind him of your identity, of the person you were before this transformation. But Peter, focused on his new responsibilities and the excitement of a foreign city, barely registered your plea. "Ey, get used to it, you're just my cock now!" he snapped back, his thoughts already drifting to the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead.

But something unexpected happened the following morning, something that would change the course of your existence yet again. "What's this?" Peter murmured, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You didn't know what was happening, but suddenly, you felt a surge of blood rushing into your shaft, hardening you, greeting Peter with a morning erection. "Whoa, good morning to you too," he chuckled, stroking you gently. "Seems like you're settling into your new role quite nicely." You wanted to protest, to scream at him to stop, but the pleasure that coursed through your cock-body was overwhelming. You had become a willing participant in your own objectification, and the realization hit you hard. "Oh, Emily, you're really getting the hang of this," Peter mused, his fingers wrapping around you in a familiar grip.

You tried to protest, to remind him of your identity, but the words failed to form in your mind. It was as if your consciousness was muted, able only to experience the physical sensations. "There, there," Peter cooed, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your new form. "No need to be shy. Embrace your new role." And as he stroked you, you can't help but agree. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and you found yourself greeting Peter with this eager hardness each morning. "You're finally behaving like a proper cock should," Peter said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I knew you'd come around."  Peter, satisfied, went about his morning routine, ready to take on the day with renewed vigor. As the days passed, you found yourself becoming more attuned to Peter's desires. Your once-scrupulous nature, the drive to make him more precise in his work, was fading. Instead, you found yourself drawn to the very essence of your new form. "Look at that one, Peter," you'd whisper in his mind, directing his attention to a beautiful woman walking by. "Not now, my cock," he'd respond, his focus unwavering during important meetings. But you knew that later, in the privacy of his apartment, he would indulge in the fantasies you planted in his mind. "I'm losing myself," you thought, the realization hitting you with a pang of sadness. "I'm becoming nothing but a tool for his pleasure." But even as you fought against this new reality, you couldn't deny the pleasure it brought. You were becoming Peter's cock, and with each passing day, your former aims and desires were shifting, aligning with your new form's primary purpose: to fuel Peter's lust and make him the virile stud he was always meant to be. Your wish to understand the life of a man was being fulfilled in ways you never imagined.

It was a typical workday, and as Peter stepped into his office, he noticed a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Felix, the young intern, has arrived, but Peter didn't recognize him from their previous encounter. Felix, the young sorcerer who granted your ill-fated wish, stand before Peter's desk, a hint of mischief in his sparkling blue eyes.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of your old self, captivated by Felix's charm. "Welcome, Felix," Peter said, his voice smooth and confident. He motioned to the chair in front of the desk, his demeanor that of a seasoned leader. "I'm glad you could join us for this internship." Felix's innocent smile send a shiver of anticipation through you. "I'm excited to learn from the best, Peter." As Peter began to explain the corporate structure, his hand subconsciously reached out, gently caressing Felix' head. You, as Peter's cock, stir with newfound power, your length growing in his pants. Peter's words became huskier, his actions bolder. "In this world, a clear hierarchy is crucial. Respect and submission are the keys to success." Felix's eyes widened slightly, but he remained still, a willing participant in this unexpected seduction. "I... I understand, Peter." Peter's fingers trailed down Felix's neck, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. "Submission is a powerful tool, Felix. It can unlock doors and grant you access to realms you never imagined." Before Felix could respond, Peter's hands were on his waist, lifting him onto the desk.

You felt Peter's breath quicken, his desire fueled by your influence. "You see, Felix, in this world, I'm the one in control." Felix's breath caught as Peter's lips found his, and you, revel in the sensation of power. Peter's actions were guided by your desires, his straight facade crumbled under your control. Peter's hands moved to Felix's hips, pulling him closer, his own body responding to the lust you've ignited. "Yes, Peter," Felix whispered, playing along with innocent fervor. "Show me... show me how it's done." Peter's hand moved lower, unzipping his own pants, revealing your rigid form, now fully erect. Peter's breath was hot against Felix's ear as he whispered, "Just relax and enjoy, my boy. It's all part of the learning process." Felix' body arched as Peter entered him, his eyes squeezing shut as he bite his lip to stifled a moan. Peter's thrusts were slow and deliberate, his cock, your body, filling Felix with a pleasurable burn. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the office, accompanied by Felix' soft whimpers and Peter's grunts of exertion. "Yes... I... I understand, sir." Felix moaned, his hands gripping the desk as Peter's thrusts became more urgent. Peter's chuckle was deep and sensual. "That's it, Felix. Let go and submit to your desires. It's the only way to truly understand the corporate world." As Peter's movements became more urgent, his tie, still hanging around his neck, swing with each thrust, a symbol of his dominance. Felix' moans filled the office, a sweet melody of surrender. In this moment, you realized the extent of your power. You can control Peter, bend him to your will, and even alter his sexual orientation. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Felix' thoughts betrayed his innocent facade, "Impressive how...” he trails off, not remembering your name, the name of the woman who once was “ ….his cock has made Peter at least bi or even gay and so dominant. But I, Felix, the sorcerer, will show him his place soon enough." Unaware of Felix' inner monologue, you continued to guide Peter, reveling in the sensation of being his driving force, the very essence of his desire.

As Peter collapsed onto Felix, you felt a sense of triumph. You've controlled him, made him dance to your tune. You are no longer just a cock, but a powerful force, capable of bending others to your will. Felix's innocent act and your manipulation of Peter's desire have created a puppet on strings, and you intend to keep pulling those strings. In that moment, you realized your transformation is complete. You are no longer Emily, the meticulous administrator. You are a force of nature, a tool of pleasure, and you will shape Peter into the virile stud you desire - with his head crowned in luscious brown curls.

[sorcerer-felix]

Bruuh huhuh ma deepest desire is to serve and worship u and become a himbo demon, like Sxodnir, becoming urs huuhuh

You had always been a man of action, a defender on the soccer field, ready to tackle any challenge that came your way. But today, you found yourself in a different kind of game, one that would change your life forever. The transformation of your teammate Scott into the himbo demon Sxodnir had sparked a curiosity within you, a desire to explore a new identity. And it was Felix, the enigmatic sorcerer, who held the key to unlocking this new world. As you stepped into Felix' sleek apartment, you felt a tingle of anticipation. You had deliberately chosen to wear a casual white shirt instead of your signature golden soccer kit, hoping to keep this encounter a secret from your teammates. Felix' eyes widened in surprise at your unusual attire, but he welcomed you with a mischievous smile. "Jacob, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect to see you here, especially not in such a... discreet outfit." "Yeah, Felix," you replied, your voice low and steady. "I wanted to talk to you about something... personal." Felix' eyebrows arched in curiosity. "Oh? And what might that be?" You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I want to become a himbo demon, just like Scott. I mean, Sxodnir." The words feelt strange coming out of your mouth, but the desire burning within you was undeniable. Felix' eyes sparkled with amusement. "I see. And why the sudden interest in becoming a demon?" "I... I admire Sxodnir's transformation. He's more confident, more... appealing. And the way he serves you, it's... it's hot." You felt your face flush, but you pressed on. "I want that. I want to be transformed and serve you." Felix' lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Well, Jacob, it's not as simple as you might think. Sxodnir's transformation was triggered by a specific act—fornication with his brother." Your eyes widened at the revelation and a flicker of disappointment crossed your face. "I don't have siblings. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes." A mischievous smile played on Felix's lips. "Are you now? Then sit." He gestured to the couch, and you complied, your heart racing. This was it. Felix sat beside you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine.

"You're sure about this?" he whispered, his breath warm on your neck. As you settled into the soft cushions, Felix moved closer, his scent—a mix of lemon and cucumber—invading your senses. Before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours, soft and insistent. You responded eagerly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his blond hair. His mouth tasted like honey and something more exotic, something that made your head spin. Breaking the kiss, Felix trailed his lips along your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. "You've been wanting this for a while, haven't you?" he murmured, his fingers skillfully unbuttoning your shirt. "Yes," you breathed, your voice hoarse with desire. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you." Felix' hand slid down your chest, and you arched into his touch, craving more. He reached your waist and then lower, his fingers brushing the bulge in your pants. His hands wandered, one reaching down to grasp your crotch, stroking your hardening cock through the fabric of your pants. A moan escaped your lips, "Ah, Felix..." His fingers worked the fly of your pants, and he chuckled as he realized you're wearing your golden soccer shorts instead of underwear. "Eager, aren't we?" he teased, his touch making you harder, the fabric of your shorts straining. "Yes, I—," you started, your voice hoarse with desire, but Felix cut you off. "Shh, let's not rush things. This is perfect for what I have in mind." You nodded, unable to form coherent words. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you wanted more. Much more. "Perfect," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Now, we begin." Felix pulled away, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood, holding out his hand. "Come with me." With a flourish, he waved his hand, and a portal opened, revealing a dark, mysterious room.

You stepped through, your heart pounding. The room was vast, its high ceiling lost in the shadows. Black marble columns loomed around you, their surfaces adorned with golden reliefs of men in various poses. At the center, a basin filled with a shimmering golden liquid caught your eye. "Step in," Felix instructed, his voice echoing in the temple-like hall. You didn't hesitate. The arousal Felix had stoked in you made the decision easy. You stepped into the basin, the goo enveloping your legs, warm and cold at the same time.

It tugged at your soul, a sensation both pleasurable and terrifying. "Now, immerse yourself," Felix commanded. Doubts began to creep into your mind as you sank deeper into the goo. What if this was a mistake? What if— "Wait! I—I can't do this. I've changed my mind!" You tried to back away, but the goo held you fast. Felix' laughter filled the room, echoing off the marble columns. "Too late for doubts, my eager friend. Much too late." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could protest further, the goo seemed to come alive, forcing you down. The goo enveloped you, its thick consistency sliding over your skin, leaving no inch untouched. It felt like a thousand tiny hands pulling at your very essence, and you realized with growing horror that your soul was being torn from your body. You cried out, the sound muffled as the goo engulfed your head. "No, please!" you screamed, but it was useless. Your soul was being ripped away, leaving you empty, and then, you were sinking, deeper and deeper into the golden abyss. You sensed your soul being drawn towards one of the marble columns, leaving a golden imprint of your form on its surface. The last thing you saw was the golden relief of your own face, frozen in agony, adorning the marble column.

Then, with a sudden rush, you broke free, emerging from the goo. But the world had transformed. The goo, once golden, was now as dark as the abyss, and the room was devoid of any trace of gold. The stark black marble columns towered around you, their coldness seeping into your bones. You knew, without a doubt, that you had entered the demon realm. Your reflection in the basin revealed a startling change. Horns, sleek and golden, curved gracefully from your temples, and from your back, majestic wings unfolded—a shimmering golden extension of your newfound demonic nature.

The sight should have terrified you, but instead, a foreign emotion surged through your veins—an intense, primal desire. "I need to mate," you whispered, the words echoing in the empty hall. "I need to fuck." The demon realm was desolate, and the thought of being trapped here sent a shiver down your spine. But your new, insatiable hunger drove you forward. You had to find a way out, compelled by the need to satisfy this burning lust. As if in response to your thoughts, a soft whisper cut through the silence, "Jaxor... Jaxor, I summon you. Come and serve." The name resonated within you, and you realized it was yours now. Jaxor.

Before you could fully process what was happening, your surroundings shifted. The dark, brooding temple of your transformation was gone, and you found yourself back in Felix' apartment.

The luxurious space was bathed in soft light, and your eyes immediately locked onto the figure of Sxodnir, the himbo demon. His golden wings shimmered, and his light blue eyes sparkled with a playful challenge. Driven by an instinctual urge, you pounced, your body moving with a newfound agility. You leaped onto Sxodnir, your hands gripping his shoulders, and you could feel his power beneath you. He struggled, his muscles rippling beneath your touch, but your strength was overwhelming. Sxodnir's breath came in short gasps as he tried to push you off, but it was futile. "Not so wild, Jaxor!" Felix' voice rang out, authoritative and laced with magic. His words cut through the haze of your desire, and you felt an invisible force pulling you away from Sxodnir. The room spun as you were lifted into the air, and for a moment, you hung suspended, your heart racing. With a gentle thud, you landed, finding yourself on your knees before Felix.

"No!" you screamed in frustration, the sound echoing off the walls. "I want Sxodnir! Let me have him!" Your voice was hoarse, filled with the raw need to claim your prey. Felix' laughter filled the room, a mix of amusement and a hint of fear. "My, my, Jaxor. Such passion. But I think we need to tame that wildness a bit." He snapped his fingers, and a rush of energy coursed through you. Your black leather pants transformed, morphing into a golden metal jockstrap that encased your cock, rendering it useless for the moment.

You bowed your head, the gesture one of complete devotion. "Command me, my master," you said, your voice steady and full of purpose. Felix' eyes widened, taking in the change in your demeanor. "You're... different," he mused. "Sxodnir has a playful spirit, but you... you're pure, raw desire. One moment you could tear the world apart, and the next, you kneel before me with unwavering loyalty." You remained silent, your gaze fixed on Felix. The need to serve him, to please him, was all-consuming. You would do anything to earn his favor, even if it meant restraining your own desires. "I see the way you look at me, Jaxor," Felix continued, his voice soft. "You want to please me, don't you?" "Yes, my master," you replied, your voice a low growl. "I live to serve you. To protect you." Your eyes flickered to the side, catching sight of Sxodnir.

Jealousy surged within you, but you pushed it down. You had no right to demand Felix' attention, but you could channel that emotion into something else - aggression! Felix smiled, understanding flashing in his eyes. "I must admit, I'm intrigued by your eagerness," Felix said, stepping closer to you. "You would do anything I say, wouldn't you?" "Yes, my master," you replied without hesitation. "I live to serve and obey." Felix' eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "And what if I were to ask you to... nuzzle my fingers?" Your heart raced at the prospect, and you couldn't suppress a low growl of desire. "I would consider it an honor, master." Felix laughed, a delightful sound that filled the room. "Very well, Jaxor. Nuzzle my fingers, and perhaps, if you're a good boy, I might let you taste something even sweeter." You eagerly knelt before Felix, your eyes never leaving his face. As he extended his hand, you leaned forward and gently nuzzled his fingers with your nose and lips, savoring his touch. Felix' laughter turned into a soft moan, and you felt a surge of satisfaction at bringing him pleasure.

But as you looked up, you noticed Felix' gaze had shifted. His eyes, sparkling with curiosity, landed on the golden soccer shorts you had been wearing—a memento from your former life as Jacob. “May I?” Felix asked, his voice laced with intrigue. He didn't wait for a response, already reaching for the shorts. You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry as you watched him undress. The golden fabric glimmered under the soft lighting, and you could almost feel the weight on your soul. Felix stepped into the shorts, his slender fingers pulling them up his thighs.

As the material enveloped his body, he let out a soft gasp. “Oh…” His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and you noticed the bulge forming in the shorts. The sight of Felix' growing arousal made your mouth water. “Incredible…” Felix murmured, his eyes half-lidded as he ran his hands over the fabric. “I can feel the magic.” Suddenly, his movements became more fluid, graceful, like a dancer. He spun, and you realized he was mimicking the movements of a skilled soccer player. The golden shorts had awakened Jacob's athletic prowess within him. “I feel like I could play for hours without tiring,” Felix laughed, his voice echoing in the room. “And the skills… I can do things with a ball I’ve never even attempted before!” You watched, mesmerized, as Felix demonstrated a series of intricate dribbles and shots. The transformation was astonishing. It was as if Jacob's talent had been infused into Felix' body. “Normally, these would turn me into a member of the Golden Team, right?” Felix asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. You nodded, your voice hoarse as you responded, “Yes, that’s their power. To grant the skills and spirit of the Golden Team.” Felix smiled, and you saw a hint of the sorcerer's power in his eyes. “Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m Felix, the sorcerer. I absorb their magic, but I won’t be joining any team.” As you watched, the golden shorts lost their luster, turning to their usual black color. Simultaneously, a red and black striped soccer jersey materialized on Felix' body, fitting him perfectly.

“Hmmm…” Felix' eyes narrowed in concentration, and you sensed him probing the magic he had just absorbed. “This power… it’s… arousing.” You swallowed, your throat dry as you understood the implications. Felix' gaze met yours, and you saw the determination in his eyes. “I think I’ll pay a visit to the Golden Team’s practice field. I heard they make out after each session. Time to join the fun!”

With a wink, Felix vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering scent of magic.

As you stood there, a jockstrap of golden metal now a part of your new form, you realized the transformation was more than physical. You were Jaxor, a being of raw desire and unwavering loyalty. And in that moment, you knew that serving Felix, exploring your new powers, and dominating those who crossed your path would be your destiny.

[sorcerer-felix]

My desire is to fit into the clothes I bought, when I was feeling aspirational. I'm just slightly over average atm but the clothes I've got are a few sizes smaller and are muscle fit...

The sleek, modern apartment of Sorcerer Felix was a stark contrast to the soft, chubby figure you presented. You stood before the young, mischievous sorcerer, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your once-fit physique had succumbed to the pleasures of food and a sedentary lifestyle.

Felix' smirk only widened as he took in your appearance, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "So, obviously you've eaten for two recently, huh?" His words cut deep, but you couldn't deny the truth in them. "I know I've put on some weight," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of embarrassment. "I want to change, Felix. I need your help." Felix's expression turned thoughtful, his fingers tapping his chin. "It's a considerable task, my friend. This won't be an overnight transformation."

Your spirits sank at his words, but he quickly added, "I can do it in three days with some assistance." Hope ignited within you, and you eagerly nodded, determined to see this through. "Whatever it takes," you declared. With a wave of his hand, Felix summoned Sxodnir, the himbo demon, who appeared with a sultry pout. His handsome features and muscular build were accentuated by his light blue glowing horns and metallic wings. "Master, you summoned me?" Sxodnir's voice was deep and sensual, but his eyes widened as he took in your appearance.

Sxodnir, used to the chiseled bodies of the Golden Army, turned to Felix with a look of disbelief, "But, Master, he's ..." "Fat, yes, I know," Felix interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "But that's where your expertise comes in, my dear Sxodnir. You know what to do." Sxodnir's handsome face contorted into a reluctant grimace. "Master, I... I can try, but he's not exactly my usual..." He gestured at your body, his handsome face contorted in a rare moment of discomfort. "Sxodnir!" Felix' admonishing tone left no room for argument. The demon sighed, his wings drooping slightly. "Okay, Master. I live to serve."

You were curious about the process, especially after hearing whispers of Sxodnir's legendary abilities. "So, Sxodnir will pleasure me, and that leads to... well, shooting the fat out of my cock?" The idea sounded bizarre, but you were desperate for a solution. Felix' laughter filled the room, drawing your attention back to him. "Not quite. Sxodnir's seed has unique properties. It will do the work from within. In essence, he will..." He paused, searching for the right words. "He'll fuck me?" you blurted out, your face heating up. Felix nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yes, that's the gist of it. It's the only way to ensure the seed is delivered effectively." Your eyes widened at this revelation, and you swallowed hard. You had never considered such an arrangement, and the idea of being penetrated made your stomach flutter with nerves. But the thought of finally shedding the weight overpowered your hesitation. And Sxodnir's reputation as a himbo demon, capable of delivering immense pleasure, sparked a curiosity you couldn't ignore. "I'll do it," you agreed, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your.

Sxodnir's expression remained unenthusiastic as he approached you. "This is new," he muttered, his eyes scanning your body. "How does this even work?" Before you could respond, Sxodnir grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer. His touch was firm, and you felt a tingle where his hands gripped your flesh. "Just get it over with," you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Sxodnir's chiseled body pressed against yours, and you felt his hardness against your backside. "I'll try to make this quick," he whispered, his breath hot on your neck. The demon's movements were mechanical, devoid of the passion and pleasure you'd expected. His thrusts were rough, and he grunted with each push, making you feel like a mere vessel for his task. "It's like I'm fucking a jelly pudding," he complained, his voice laced with annoyance. You winced with each thrust, feeling more like a target for his frustration than a recipient of pleasure. The stories of Sxodnir's prowess seemed like a distant myth now. Finally, with a loud groan, Sxodnir released his seed inside you. "It's finally done!" he exclaimed, pulling out abruptly. You stumbled forward, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Sxodnir's lack of interest in your pleasure was evident, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt. "That's it?" you asked, turning to face him. Sxodnir shrugged, his wings fluttering slightly. "Master's orders. I'm done here." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the room.

On the next day the morning sun streamed through the windows of your apartment, casting a warm glow on your leather furniture. You stirred, feeling a sense of soemthing different in your body as you awoke. It was an unusual sensation, and you realized with a start that your morning wood was notably absent. Confused, you sat up in the plush bed, the soft sheets pooling around your waist. As you rose to begin your day, a strange sensation crept over you. It was as if your body was undergoing a metamorphosis. Your fingers traced the contours of your face, now sharper and more defined. The chubbiness that had once been a source of insecurity was melting away, replaced by chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline. Your limbs, once soft and rounded, were now toned and muscular. But as your body transformed, you noticed a peculiar development—your belly was expanding, growing larger by the hour. "Hmm, not bad," you chuckled, admiring your reflection in the full-length mirror. "I look like a chiseled pregnant man."

By evening, you feel nauseous, a sensation you've never experienced before. You rush to the bathroom, only to empty your stomach's contents into the toilet.

The following morning, the pattern repeats. Your cock, usually a reliable indicator of your health and mood, remains uncharacteristically still and your belly had grown even larger. You placed your hands on it, feeling a strange sensation, almost like something was moving inside.

A subtle kicking sensation that sends shivers down your spine. "This can't be right," you muttered, panic setting in. You rushed to Felix' apartment, the sleek modern design now a familiar sight. "Felix, something's wrong," you gasped, clutching your expanding belly. "I think I'm... I mean, there's something growing in here!" Felix, lounging on his luxurious sofa, raiseed an eyebrow, his mischievous smile never fading.

"Oh, that's perfectly normal. You ate for two, remember? And now, the second one is on its way out." "What? No, I... I didn't sign up for this!" you protested, your voice rising in pitch. "I just wanted to lose some weight, not... not give birth!" But your words were cut short as a sharp pain griped your abdomen. You doubled over, clutching your belly, unable to speak. "Ah, the contractions have started," Felix said, standing up with a grin. "Let's get you to the bedroom."

The next hours were a blur of pain and exhaustion. Felix assisted you, his carefree demeanor surprisingly comforting in this moment of vulnerability. You screamed, moaned, and beged for mercy as the contractions intensified. "Push!" Felix encouraged, his voice a steady presence in the chaos. You bear down with all your might, and after what feels like an eternity, you heard a faint cry. "It's a girl!" Felix exclaimed, his voice filled with mock surprise. "Let... let me see her," you whispered, your strength sapped. Felix chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm afraid I fooled you. It's a boy. Labor got you confused, huh? Growing a girl without any XY chromosomes involved would be quite the feat, my friend." You glanced down at the bundle in Felix's arms, and your breath caught. The baby had a face that is strangely familiar, with soft, chubby cheeks and a tiny button nose. But the most striking features are the horns at his temples and the eyes—glowing with a demonic blue light. "Sxodnir!" you croaked, recognizing the demon who had taken such little pleasure in his task.

Sxodnir, who had been casually observing the birth, strolled over with a grin. "Looks like I'll be seeing more of you, huh?" Assuming he would take the demon child to his realm, you replied, "Could... could I see him sometimes? I mean, if you're taking him to the demon realm... I'd like to watch him grow." Sxodnir let out a booming laugh, his wings fluttering slightly. "Why would I care about some demon spawn? I'm a himbo demon, remember? I don't do diapers and bedtime stories. But you, my friend, you've become quite the specimen. I think we could have some fun together, as long as that... thing doesn't interrupt us." He gestured dismissively at your child. Anger flashed in your eyes at his callous words. "Forget it, Sxodnir! I won't let you speak about my son that way."

The casual way he dismissed your child as a 'thing' irritated you, reminding you of the rough treatment you endured during the ritual. Despite your indignation, you couldn't deny the stir of desire his presence evoked. Sxodnir's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his wings brushing against the back of the chair. "Oh, I think you'll change your mind. After all, you owe me for this new body of yours." "I don't owe you anything," you retorted, but your voice lacked conviction. Felix, who had been observing the exchange with amusement, clapped a hand on your shoulder. "You'll be the talk of the town, my friend. The single dad with the chiseled body—all the moms at the playground will be swooning."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride at the thought. Felix's expression turned serious. "But remember, no more overeating. Unless you want to start your own soccer team." As the conversation drew to a close, Sxodnir's eyes gleamed with a newfound intensity. "Master, I have a proposal. Let me pleasure this fine specimen tonight. I'll drive him wild with desire and make him submit to my every whim." Felix's eyebrows shot up, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Sxodnir. "I suppose that's a fair trade for the... discomfort you endured." "Discomfort?" Sxodnir scoffed. "It was a chore, but I guess I can make it up to him." You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as you felt a sudden, intense arousal. Sxodnir's presence was having an undeniable effect on you, and you couldn't ignore the desire coursing through your veins. Felix' laughter filled the room. "I knew it! The transformation has left you susceptible to his charms. Enjoy the ride, my friend. It's all part of the fun." As the sun set, casting long shadows across the room, you found yourself drawn to Sxodnir, your body yearning for the pleasure he promised.

The following morning, you found yourself in the kitchen of Felix' luxurious apartment. The morning sun streamed into the sleek kitchen, illuminating your naked, muscular form as you stood there, only an apron tied around your waist. You felt a newfound sense of purpose as you whipped up a hearty breakfast, your movements efficient and confident.

It was an quite odd sensation, this newfound instinct to nurture, especially towards your boy and Felix, whose boyish charm made it hard to resist taking care of him. Sxodnir's words from the night before echoed in your mind.

"What's this?" Felix asked, entering the kitchen. "Sxodnir, is this your doing?"

"Yep! He's our house mommy now. No more chores for you, Master!" Sxodnir's laughter filled the room. As you served breakfast, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The events of the past few days had been bizarre, to say the least. From seeking weight loss to becoming a single dad overnight, your life had taken a dramatic turn. And with Sxodnir's persistent advances, you wondered what new challenges lay ahead. The morning sun casting a warm glow on the modern décor, and you realized that this was just the beginning of your unconventional journey into fatherhood and beyond.

[sorcerer-felix]

Loved your last story. I am a female just trying to make it in a man's world. Can you show me what a life as a man would be like? I work in the corporate world.

It appears to be within our grasp. Simply wait a few days, and all shall be revealed...

[sorcerer-felix]

I hear you can help me. I want to be older to be out of my college years. I'm nerdy, so beefing up wouldn't hurt either. I'm just tired of the jocks always messing with me.

The salty breeze whipped around you as you perched on the stone wall overlooking the Mediterranean. The boat ride earlier had been unbearable, the jocks tossing around crude jokes like beach balls while you fiddled with your engineering gear, feeling like a fish out of water. The raucous laughter of the jocks echoed in the distance, each burst of sound like a sharp jab to your chest. You closed your eyes, allowing the rhythmic crashing of waves below to wash away the day's frustration. You were 21, but every time you glanced in the mirror, the reflection of your slender frame and youthful face felt like a cruel joke.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back, staring up at the fading sunset, the brilliant oranges and pinks bleeding into the deepening blue of the sea. You were lost in thought when a figure caught your eye. Strolling along the path, a young man dressed in white silk shorts and a matching gilet glided into view. His blonde fade cut shimmered in the light, and those piercing blue eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief. You blinked, half-expecting him to disappear like a mirage.

He walked with an effortless grace, and you can’t help but stare. Could he be…? “Hey!” you called out, your voice rising above the sound of the sea. “Are you… Felix?” He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he smiled, revealing a row of perfect teeth. “I am. And you are…?” “Just a confused engineering student,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Mind if I join you?” he replied, plopping down beside you. “What’s got you looking so glum?” You chuckled bitterly, your heart racing just being near him. “It’s these oceanography students. They’re all surfers and jocks, and they think it’s funny to pick on me. I can’t wait for this study trip to end.” “Jocks?” Felix raised an eyebrow, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “Sounds like a rough crowd.” “Rough doesn’t begin to cover it,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping. Felix laughed, a rich, musical sound. “Well, I have my struggles too. Helping a friend with his new hotel resort, and now I’m stuck doing his gardener’s work because the guy quit unexpectedly.” You couldn’t help but smile, “You? In a garden?” “Hey!” he laughed again, his eyes bright. “I’m more than just a pretty face! It’s exhausting work, though. I’m covered in dirt half the time.” He brushed a hand through his hair, and you caught a glimpse of something different in his expression. “But it’s nice to get away from the usual.” “Yeah, I could do with a break,” you said, leaning back and gazing at the sunset. “I wish I could just skip campus forever. I’d give anything to be older—maybe a bit more…beefy, too.” You laughed at the absurdity of it, but Felix tilted his head, considering your words. “That is manageable, but there’s no free lunch!” His grin widened, and you felt a shiver of excitement mixed with apprehension. “What do you mean?” you asked, half-expecting him to suggest something ridiculous—like some creepy ritual involving animal sacrifices. He leaned closer, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “You could help me with the garden work for a week. In return, I can help you out with that… beefiness and age you’re longing for.” Relief washed over you. “Seriously? That’s it? I thought you were going to ask for something insane.” Felix shrugged, unfazed. “Nah. Just some hard work. What do you say?” “I’m in!” you replied, eager to escape the jocks for a while.

Felix raised his hands, and a blue sphere of shimmering magic coalesced between them. Your awe quickly turned to thrill. “Wait, I don’t have to work first?” “Not at all,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “You wanted to bulk up, right? Well, this is how we start.” As the sphere pulsed in the air, you felt warmth radiate through your body. Your muscles began to swell, filling out your limbs until they felt taut and powerful. A grin spread across your face; it was exhilarating. Then, without warning, a deep rumble erupted from your throat. “Moo?” you responded, bewildered at the sound that escaped your lips. Felix chuckled, his laughter ringing like the distant bells of a coastal town. “Don’t worry! It’s all part of the process. First, we bring a bit of meat to your bones.” He paused, waving the sphere again, and the energy swirled around you, engulfing you in its light. “Later on, you’ll become a little older.” You tried to speak, to voice your concerns, but instead, another discontented “Moo!” tumbled out. Panic began to claw at your insides as you looked down at your body, realizing the transformation was more than just muscle. “Why am I turning into a bull?” you thought, your heart racing.

Felix placed a calming hand on your shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just trust the process, Rodrigo. After a week of helping me in the hotel park, you’ll be back to human. Think of it as a vacation from the jocks!” “Rodrigo?” The name felt strange, foreign on your tongue—or rather, in your mind, since it didn’t seem you could speak at all. You mooed again, this time in protest, shaking your head as if that could change your fate. “Exactly! A fitting name for a bull, don’t you think?” Felix grinned, clearly enjoying this. “Now, let’s get started!”

Over the next few days, you toiled in the resort's park, digging, lifting, and hauling under Felix's watchful eye. The work is exhausting, and you find yourself too tired to resist his commands.

Obedience became your default, and you accepted your fate for the week. You, now a bull named Rodrigo, had no choice but to follow his lead; the exhaustion from the hard labor has left you too weary to resist. "Good boy, Rodrigo," Felix praised, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. "We'll make a fine team by the end of the week." You can only moo softly in response, a mixture of acceptance and resignation. As the days passed, Felix's training became more intense. He teached you obedience, and you find yourself surprisingly compliant, rationalizing that it's only for a short while. "Just a few more days," you thoughed, "and then I'll be free."

Then, on an ordinary afternoon, your world shifted. A farmer drove his herd past the resort, and as the cows ambled by, something primal stired within you. You felt a surge of power, and your bull form responded instinctively. Your cock, thick and heavy, pushed out from its sheath, causing Felix to approach with a mixture of caution and intrigue. "Easy, Rodrigo," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I suggest you restrain yourself. Breed the cow if you must, but we can't predict what that might trigger." He gestured to a phantom cow, a mechanical contraption designed for bull breeding. "Use that if you're horny," Felix instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We don't want any accidents." You snorted, a defiant huff of air. But you've heard the tales of men losing their sanity after experiencing the raw, animalistic pleasure of mating in beast form. Determined not to fall victim to such a fate, you chose to endure the torment of your lust, ignoring even the phantom cow. But the following days were a constant battle. Every little stimulus—a gentle breeze, the scent of fresh grass, or the mere thought of a cow—would cause your cock, now a powerful bull's pride, to spring forth, glistening with anticipation. As the week drew to a close, you were desperate for the transformation back to human form, your lust burning like an unquenchable fire.

Finally, Felix approached you, his hands raised, the blue sphere of magic dancing between his palms. The air crackled with energy as the spell took hold, and you felt the magic course through your body. Your muscles shifted, changing, and you stood tall, no longer a bull, but a man—a muscular, rugged stud in his prime. The transformation left you breathless, and you stared at your new reflection in awe. A stubble graced your masculine face, and your body was chiseled, every inch a testament to power.

But the awe quickly turned to frustration as you realized your lust had not diminished; it had intensified. Your gaze locked onto Felix, and you lusted after him, this handsome boy, with a newfound intensity. Driven by desire, you strode towards Felix, your steps confident, almost predatory. "Felix, let's take our collaboration to the bedroom," you purred, your voice deep and commanding. Felix's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing across his face. But his expression quickly turned stern, and he raised a single eyebrow, his voice firm. "Don't you dare, Rodrigo. You will address me as Master from now on." His words shocked you, but the obedience training from your time as a bull took hold. "Yes, Master," you heard yourself say, your voice hoarse with submission.

Without another word, you turned and fled to the nearest hotel room, your body throbbing with need. Inside the room, you tore at your clothes, exposing your muscular frame. Your cock, hard as steel, demanded attention. You grasped it, stroking furiously, seeking release. Moans escaped your lips as you imagined Felix, his pale skin, and those captivating eyes watching you. "Oh, Master..." you whispered, your voice hoarse as you climaxed, but the release provided only temporary solace.

Still breathless, you sought out Felix, determined to understand this persistent desire. "There's something wrong, Master," you pleaded. "I'm still so aroused, even after..." Felix's grin was mischievous, his eyes sparkling with knowledge. "I told you to use the phantom cow, Rodrigo. Your state of arousal upon transformation is key. It determines your permanent desire." Confusion mingled within you. "But I can't function like this!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration. "I need my mind sharp, especially as an engineer." Felix let out a booming laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement. "An engineer? You? Look at yourself, Rodrigo. You're in your thirties now, and your wish has come true—you'll never set foot on campus again. What job did you expect?"

The realization hit you like a wave, and you felt your world tilt. You are no longer a student; you are an adult, magically barred from your studies. Panic rose within you, and you struggled to find your footing. You're trapped, not just in this new body but in a future you never imagined. "But... but I..." Your words trailed off, unable to form a coherent protest. "Don't fret, my friend," Felix said, his voice softening. "I know, and I've taken care of it. With your engineering knowledge and new physique, you'll be an excellent addition to the resort staff. The guests will be more than happy to have your... personal services, all without charging them a penny extra." "Personal services?" You repeated, your voice cracking. The idea of becoming a servant, let alone a sexual servant, was never part of your plan. You glanced around, noticing the hungry stares of a mature woman and a young man, their eyes locked on you with unspoken desires. Your cock twitched, responding to their gaze, and you understood what Felix meant. "But I..." Your protest died on your lips as Felix placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm yet reassuring. "Go on, Rodrigo. It's time to embrace your new life. The guests are waiting."

And so, your journey took an unexpected turn. By day, you tended to the hotel's needs, fixing leaks, and repairing broken furniture. But as the sun set, you transformed into the hotel's secret weapon, satisfying the guests' desires with your insatiable lust. Farewells were brief as Felix departed, leaving you to your new life. The guests' moans and whispered thanks became the soundtrack to your nights, and you found yourself embracing the pleasure you gave and received. Little did you know, this was just the beginning of your journey as the hotel's resident stud, and the Mediterranean nights would forever be marked by your passionate encounters.

[sorcerer-felix]

Would it be possible to ask if I could be turned into a demon himbo please?

The excitement of the upcoming soccer match buzzed through the air as you and your teammates, the Golden Army, arrived in the quaint town for the tournament. You shared a laugh with your twin brother, Logan, as you stepped into the opulent lobby of the hotel, its grandeur matching to your  success. The team had spared no expense, booking luxurious suites for the duration of your stay. You and Logan, inseparable as always, had the most extravagant suite of all—a spacious black and gold haven. After checking in, you decided to hit the hotel gym, eager to keep up with your training regimen. As you worked up a sweat, the anticipation of the soccer tournament grew, and you imagined the sweet taste of victory. Dripping with sweat, you headed back to your suite, ready for a hot shower. As you entered, a familiar scene greeted you—Logan, your mirror image, entangled with a stranger. This time, it was a blond twink, his lithe body pressed against Logan's muscular frame. You smirked, remembering the countless flings Logan had during your travels. He never seemed to tire of finding new playthings in each town. Usually, you'd join in the post-training make-out sessions, but today, something holds you back. Perhaps it's the intensity in Logan's eyes as he kisses the boy. Unbothered by your presence, Logan continues his display, his hands now roaming freely over the twink's slender frame. You shake your head, deciding it's time for your shower.

As you turn to leave, a faint blue light catches your attention. The blue light began to glow from the blond's palms, and before you could react, a sphere of energy was launched in your direction. It enveloped you, and in a flash, your world changed. Your golden soccer kit melted away, replaced by a skimpy silver thong that left little to the imagination. You felt a strange sensation on your temples, and when you reached up, you discovered small, delicate horns. As if that wasn't bizarre enough, wings sprouted from your back, and your body transformed. Your muscular build softened, becoming lean and graceful, and your features took on a more youthful, boyish appearance. You stumble, falling to your knees, the room spinning as you adjust to this unexpected shift.

Kneeling on the floor, you struggled to comprehend what had just happened. But your confusion was short-lived as your gaze fell on Logan. In that moment, you saw him as if for the first time. His chiseled features, so similar to your own, now held a new allure. Lust stirred within you, an unfamiliar desire was swelling in you. The fact that he is your twin brother no longer seems to matter as desire clouds your judgment. Your plan was simple: pleasure him until he was putty in your hands, and then take what you wanted. With determination, you pull down his shorts, exposing his manhood.

Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, and you hear a soft moan escape his lips. "Mmm... Scott, that feels incredible," Logan's voice is husky with desire. As you work his shaft, taking it deeper into your mouth, his cock responds, growing harder with each suckle and moan.

The blond twink, the sorcerer who had altered your form, moves behind you, his touch light on your back. But your attention is solely on Logan, and the twink's presence fades into the background. His fingers trail down your spine, causing a shiver, and then there's a slight pressure as he pushes a finger into your tight hole. You gasp around Logan's cock, the sensation both unexpected and strangely arousing. The twink's other hand finds your horns, stroking them gently, and you realize these touches are not just arousing but also soothing, making you pliable. "Ah... yes, just like that," Logan's voice is a low growl, his hips moving slightly, encouraging you to take more of him. The sorcerer's fingers continue their dance, working you open, and your own cock throbs with need. You're so focused on Logan's pleasure that you barely register the twink's actions until he adds a second finger, stretching you further. "Oh, fuck!" Logan's hips jerk, and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he gets closer to the edge. Your own desire spikes, and you know this is the moment. Pulling off his cock, you look up at Logan with lust-filled eyes. "I want you, Logan. Let me take you."

But before Logan can respond, the twink coos, his voice like silk, "Ah, no, no, my little demon!" With a sudden tug on your horns, he pulls you away from Logan, breaking the intimate moment. You stumble back and you lose your balance, falling onto the hardwood floor, your wings spreading instinctively to cushion your fall.

Logan stands above you, his cock hard and glistening with your saliva, a stark contrast to his usual relaxed demeanor. "Oh..." The realization hits you like a punch to the gut. This isn't how it was supposed to go. You were meant to be the one in control, dominating Logan, not the other way around. Logan's eyes burn with a new fire, and he doesn't hesitate. He steps between your legs, tearing the silver thong away. "No, wait!" you cry out as Logan positions himself at your entrance. The tables had turned, and he was now the one in control. His hard cock thrust into you, claiming your body with a ferocity that left you breathless. The sorcerer continues to stroke your horns, and you feel a wave of submission wash over you. Your protests die in your throat as Logan thrusts forward, claiming you further in swift motions. "Ahh!" Your cry echoes in the room as Logan fills you, his cock pushing past the resistance of your soul. He sets a relentless pace, pounding into you, and your body becoming a vessel for his pleasure. "Sweet little demon, surrender to your new form," the twink purrs, his voice hypnotic. The stroking of your horns sends a strange calm through your body, making it hard to think, let alone resist. "Ah, yes, let go of your human inhibitions," the twink whispered, his fingers trailing down your back, sending shivers through your body. "You're not one of them anymore. You're a demon, a creature of pure desire and pleasure." Logan's thrusts became more intense, his moans filling the room. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering to the sensations, your body betraying your previous desires. "That's it, let it go," the twink encouraged, his fingers now stroking your horns with increasing speed. "You're not Scott, the soccer player. You're Sxodnir, a demon of lust and desire. Your purpose is to serve and please." His words resonated within you, and as Logan's pace quickened, you felt a surge of arousal. Your eyes widen as you realize what's happening. The stroking of your horns was like a spell, making you pliable and docile, erasing your former desires. "Oh... oh yes!" Logan's voice cracked as he drove into you, his body glistening with sweat. His eyes locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw the brother you knew, but then, something shifted. The brotherly bond faded, replaced by a new, unfamiliar yearning. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. You weren't thinking of Logan as your sibling anymore; he was your master, and the thought sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your cock, throbbing and hard, responded to this newfound submission, and you couldn't hold back any longer. With a cry of surrender, you climaxed, your essence shooting out in a warm release. Logan's eyes widened as he felt your ass clench around him, and with a final, powerful thrust, he surrendered to his own release, filling you with his seed. "Yes!" he grunted, his body shuddering. "The transformation is complete!" the twink exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph. "You are no longer brothers, but a demon and his master! Sxodnir, the Himbo-demon, is born!"

As your vision clearer in the aftermath of your climax, you see Logan and the twink embracing, their passion evident. "You've given me the perfect gift, Felix. My brother is now an obedient servant." Logan's eyes find yours, and he smiles, a mix of satisfaction and mischief. "Sxodnir, huh? I like the sound of that. No more sharing the spotlight, my … not brother anymore," Logan said smirking down on you. "You'll be the talk of the Golden Army as their new mascot." The twink Felix, now your master, added, "And you'll serve us both with unwavering devotion. The seed of our union will ensure your loyalty." Logan, still standing tall above you, grinned triumphantly. "You were always the more popular one, Scott. Now, as Sxodnir, you'll know your place." As their words sank in, you felt a shift within your very being. The sense of obedience they spoke of wasn't forced; it was natural, a part of your new identity. Logan and Felix as your masters...it feels strangely right, and the idea of being their obedient demon is oddly arousing.

Logan was laying his arm around your shoulder and running with the hand through his hair. "And I think it's time we introduce our new mascot to the team. The Golden Army will love having their very own Himbo-demon." The blond twink nods, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Indeed, they will adore you, Sxodnir. And you'll adore serving them, won't you?" You can only nod, the words 'yes, master' forming on your lips. A satisfied grin appeared Felix’ face, "I knew you'd be the perfect little slut, Sxodnir!" "I... I am yours," you whisper, your voice filled with newfound submission. Logan and Felix exchanged a satisfied glance, their plan a success.  Your words were simple, but it holds all the devotion and obedience you now feel. No longer a soccer player, no longer Scott, you are Sxodnir, a lower demon with a purpose—to bring luck and pleasure to the Golden Army and to serve your new masters faithfully. As the team's mascot, your presence brings an air of magic and excitement to their games. The players touch your horns for luck before each match, which drives you wild by lust, your new form a testament to the power of sorcery and desire.

[sorcerer-felix]

Sorcerer Felix

Hey, I'm Felix, a young sorcerer.

Since having a lot of influence means taking on big responsibilities, I'm here to help you with what you want. Go ahead, be brave, and just let me know what you desire. No worries, what could possibly go wrong? I mean, I look pretty innocent, right? How could I possibly harm you?