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Hiii! Im a scrawny white guy that just moved out into a new neibourhood that is strangely filled with fuckboys and my parents want me to cut my long curly hair to fit in. They want me to have a buzz cut or an undercut. Do you know someone who can help me?
“Welcome to the normal barbershop ! I… see you’re accompanied.”
Indeed, when you enter, the severe face of your mother is revealed behind your shoulder. She seems dead set on having a say in whatever you’re going to do, no matter how uncomfortable you look. You know that, as you’re a few years into university, you should really, like all your friends find yourself flat or flatmates, yet the only ones who would qualify are all related by blood. However, with the sky-high price for property, inflation eating into everyone’s pockets, and uni being just an hour away from home… the choice is obvious.
Even if it feels a bit constraining to have your quite controlling parents breathing down your neck.
“I…” You start, before being cut by your mother. - My son here needs an appropriate haircut. This… clump he caries around has to go.”
It is clear for everyone in the room that she wants you to have a haircut, not you… and that she seems dead set on you cozying up to the upper echelons of society. Not an objectionable dream, but not one she should force onto her kid. This malaise that grows out of it is broken by the arrival of a tall but thin guy, dressed in all white polos and chinos, wearing an expensive golden watch, luxurious black sunglasses and a single stylish golden earring. His jet black hair is parted in the middle in a tasteful style stinking of money – and hairspray – accompanying slightly folded amber eyes that frame a very handsome face.
“Greetings, miss.” He announced rather dramatically, smiling in a manner that would swoon anybody. “Don’t worry, I, Jonathan Nasukawa, heir to the famous Shimotsuke family, from the Uesugi clan, and to the de Clissons family, who studied under the famous master barber Dr. Davod, will take care of your son. I’ll make sure he’s… up to my standards.”
You are not impressed. In fact, you’re more weary of whatever bullying he may decide to make about your lack of self-care, or your lower social class… but your mother is comfortably taken by the smile of that certified ikemen. Her severe expression morphs into one of the most benevolent smiles that a human can make, and pushes you to him by your shoulders.
“My son will be more than honored to be able to be helped by all your expertise. I’m sure that, once he knows how to properly act, he will thank you for the immense service you are giving him.”
The ikemen’s smile becomes sinister, somehow… though your mother stays just as smitten by his through the roof charisma.
“Rest assured, he will.” His smiles becomes normal once again, as he places a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you may, I have some work to do. - Well, I wouldn’t want to prevent you from doing your job… I just so happen to have a few things to buy, so I’ll get to this now !”
As the exchange devolves into civilities, you start advancing to the barber chairs, where you guess your mane that you actually really like is going to get chopped off. What a waste, you love the feeling of long hair, how it floats, how freely you can shape it. But before you can take a step closer, you are stopped by a soft hand on your shoulder. Expecting it to be your mother, you put your hand on it and turn around… only to notice it was Jonathan. The barber.
“I was going to say that we are not going there, but… are you trying something ?”
You vehemently deny, red appearing on all your face, making him laugh very elegantly.
“Hahaha ! Your expressions are so precious ! No, we’re going inside that special room, with the elite setup, for maximum comfort !” You stare at him, unsure of why he’s trying to do by playing into your mom’s delusions. “What, it’s comfortable for me too ! And it’s topical !”
You smile from that defense that paints an image quite different from the one he casts, that more of a laid-back and less… arrogant than the uptight and quick to point out ancestry he seemed to your mother. He makes you sit on the chair inside the private room, that feels incredibly comfortable, as he takes out multiple products, clippers and scissors.
“I’m sorry your mother made such a scene… I mean, we’re supposed to be the one uncomfortable, but you must have been so ashamed hearing her spouting nonsense like that.” Of that you agree. « Now, before you start making up ideas, I’m not a noble or anything. I just said that to impress her, because I know it works – I’m sure she would faint if she knew I lived in a small flat with three roommates to save money ! Though the lineage is correct, it doesn’t come with fortune, unfortunately.”
He speaks so much that you have a hard time saying anything. And in the time he took to explain every part of his trick, he washed your hair and put in some weird lotion. How industrious he is, expertly manipulating your hair while not stopping one second from talking… Although his claims to famous families were bogus, his claims to skill were visibly warranted.
“Now, let me talk about what I’m going to do. See, I’d like to keep your hair. It’s nice and long, and I’d likely trim it a little and find some ways to dress it so that you can have a good cut that will sway even the straightest of guys and the gayest of girls. « However… due to the whole situation, I have to give you a shorter cut. See, I know her type. She wouldn’t find anything but that a proper men’s cut. But don’t worry, I have here everything necessary to make you own that short cut.”
And as he said all of that, he used scissors to cut down most of the length, the locks falling one after another, in a shower of hair. Although you feel very hurt by this development, you can’t stay mad too long with him overwhelming your brain with words… Actually, is that a strategy he’s using ? As if he was-
“So the recipe for a short cut in the current trends is the curly undercut. Thankfully your hair is already curly, so I won’t have to change much, but there are some details that I’ll still have to fix. « But right now, I’m concentrating on the most important : the shape. Now that most of the mass has been dealt with, I’m shaping it so we can find the modern shape we’re trying to achieve. Now, you may think that looking like a mushroom is cringe… and to be honest, you’re right, but it’s only cringe if you of think it as much.”
God, he was so fast ! He drew the clippers, put a short guard, and tore through the sides of your hair, leaving only short fur ! And he even had the time to make the short part two-tone, with it being a smidge longer when connecting with the top of the hair ! He really is gifted ! But as he did that, what he told you about cringe kept on making rounds in your head. Although it feels almost wrong, like an incorrect leap of logic… you couldn’t find how. You could only find more ways in which it was correct.
If you’re the one to wear such a cringy haircut… should you be revising your stance on it ? It’s not as if you could get rid of it that easily… And looking at how much expertise Jonathan puts in cutting your hair… should you even ? Should you not accept that it’s your hair, and be… proud of it ? Of having your hair cut by such a gifted barber, who chose such a hot and trendy cut ? That thought feels weird… kind of… intoxicating. Like it’s opening a door that should not have been open, making you feel hotter than ever.
Because you decide that you are hot.
“And then, I just have to cut down the top to an acceptable volume ! See, it’s all about volume, about looking big and fluffy. It’s a pain to style – believe me – but it’s worth it, because it’s such a show off. « You know, you have a great nature of hair, you should absolutely not spit on that. Many people use chemicals to get a result resembling your hair, yet you have it naturally ! What better thing to show off !”
On that time, he switched to scissors and has cut the top of your air so it only kinda looks like a mushroom. Now, everything fits together… and it makes you feel so much hotter. It’s not cringe, you’re just hot, and you love it. But your brains latches on how high-effort this whole style is, and how great your hair is… Sure, you know that you check out a lot of guys who have great muscles, handsome faces, and generous crotches, but you never thought of that concept applied to you.
You never felt like you had anything much to be proud of, in your body, but seeing how he praises your hair, how many guys want to have hair just like yours… it makes something click for you. You do have something to be proud of. And it’s something others should get to enjoy. So why not use these high-effort techniques ? Why not put in work ? And what then would be wrong to get feedback for this work ?
It all feels so intoxicating… It feels so wrong… But it’s so good, so attractive, and it makes you so, so, sooo happy. So why stop ? Somehow the thought of annoying others by showing off just… doesn’t compute anymore. You’re happy showing others, they should be happy seeing what you’re good at.
“Now, please lie down in this machine. I know I said that your hair had a great nature and didn’t need to have any chemicals to get it like that… it doesn’t mean that it is well-taken care of.
« Thankfully, thanks to the product I put in your hair and the machine here, it should be looking good as new ! Don’t worry if it feels a bit weird at first, everyone gets surprised by it !”
As soon as you lie down in the machine, he activates it and goes out of the small room. You are left under the big… thing ? rectangle ? You can’t actually describe it much, it’s just weird. But it hums, and it feels quite warm… almost as if it was frying something. You don’t know, your head is just empty at the moment.
Suddenly, you feel your arms twitch. Then your torso. Then your core, and your legs, and the rest of you body. Thousands of small pricks invade your body as what was just a weird occurrence becomes something very uncomfortable. Your muscles are all twitching, all aching as if they were suffering from over-exertion. You don’t quite know why, and you would like to know why, but your head refuses to think of any answer, as it feels like it is absolutely frying inside the warmth of the machine.
You hear through all the noises of the machine the sound of tears, but don’t make much of it, as the rest of the sensations were invading you. Everything feels uncomfortable. You want to be out of this machine as fast as possible. But simply leaving the underside of the rectangle never occurres as a possibility in your embattled brain.
No, only bips from the machine, signaling it was turned off, broke your frying brain from utter nothingness.
You look around, seeing the tatters of your clothes on you. You think a little, when you realize that you should probably take them off. But then, the subsequent problem arose : how to cover your muscular body. Thankfully, when standing up, you see a collection of luxury boxers, fine jogging pants, a puka shells necklace and a black iPhone. You put them on, finding them to meet your standards, when suddenly, you see a mirror. Not the one in front of the barber chair, another.
Were you always blonde ? You can’t really remember, but… it’s the perfect position to take a selfie, isn’t it ? So you open the phone, enter your code, and move it up and down until you get the lighting perfect. Then, you take it.
Perfection.
Its very definition.
You look so hot, everyone’s gonna fall to their knees.
And when you leave the private room, opting for a heavy gait to show off your ripped muscles better, you notice your mom, who looks half-proud, half-horrified at you. But you don’t really care for her, what you really care about is all the people staring at you, checking you out. Even Jonathan Nasukawa, that ikemen, hyper-hot guy who cut your hair, looks at you proudly.
And as you rock your few remaining braincells to find somewhere you can show off better, you can only find one appropriate place to go.
“Yo, ma.” You hail your mother, who is very shocked at how you suddenly speak to her. “I have to go to the club, so let me leave the car before coming home.”
#male transformation#male tf#twunk tf#douche tf#fuckboi tf#hairstyle tf#dumber tf#mental change#transformation#tf story#ask#the normal barbershop
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Hi, can you make me please a twunk with a aura? That even straight guys want to fuck me...
snap
Remind me again what a twunk is? A muscular twink? Okay, I can work with that. Let's get started.
First of all, shorter. You have to be shorter. With a big mess of dark hair, an angular jaw and a young face. You need a stud in those ears too. Just the way Daddy likes it.
We'll plump your muscles up. Not too big though! How about some popping veins? Look at your arms bro, you like that?
Okay, lift up your shirt and do something sexy with it. Yeah! Just like that. Perfect.
And now why don't you try a pose or something. Yeah you can put it in your mouth, why not. Great, and flex!
Go on, get out of here bro. You have some weights to lift.
#everything powers#male tf#jock transformation#male transformation#male tf story#muscle transformation#reality change#male body transformation#gay twunk#hot twunk#muscle twunk#muscle
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thinking about a world where Li xiangyi does actually get murked in the donghai battle / of poison, but through a series of events, ends up kind of... wandering the world as a ghost for a while, which isn't great and gives him so much time to think about everything he fucked up, and then, because his life is a farce, ends up eventually accidentally possessing this brat.
this very familiar brat. this brat who has spent the last several years training and all but breaking himself to get strong enough, healthy enough, based on a dead man's words, this brat who just got his ass kicked out of the baichun court (again) and is already making plans for how he can conceal his identity to get through the exam next time.
this very familiar brat he would fucking like to unposess as fast as possible, actually, only it appears they are fucking stuck with each other, and ok, maybe finishing unfinished business will let him, y'know, move on to his well deserved punishment of the afterlife, and thus: it's time for a weird ghost road trip.
(fang doubing has doubts about the literal fucking ghost in his head, who is very clearly lying about, uh, a lot of things, but on the other hand he is learning like, so much about investigating and also just every topic under the sun it feels like, and it's not exactly being a proper detective, but... he's got a year, anyway, and maybe showing up with a solved case or twelve under his belt will convince them to give him a chance)
#mysterious lotus casebook#fang doubing#li xiangyi#waters words#probably di feisheng wakes up and is like yo who tf is this twunk. why tf is he so familiar.#li lianhua is like hey bestie xiaobao body buddy we need to leave now immediately For Reasons#and fang doubing at this point has been sharing a body with 'li lianhua' for like. the best part of a year#and is like ok. go directly in the direction of the guy you want to avoid. understood!#anyway sometimes a found family polycule situationship can be you your murdered rival and the twunk he's possessing
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I’m a proud ROR Hercules x Loki truther because there’s absolutely no heterosexual explanation for this panel
#loki ror#snv#snv loki#hercules ror#snv heracles#Hercules x loki#cause why tf is loki perched up on Hercules’ club like that 😭#like bro’s back is arched and shit 💀#my bitch’s pose is NASTY#record of ragnarok#shuumatsu no valkirye#also do y’all consider Loki to be a twink or a twunk
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still thinking about the time someone said Lammek was a twink... fucking where...
#golden chats#.txt#That is a whole ass wall of a man. tf you mean 'twink'#im sorry there are very few things that annoy me and the most is when u are just. So wrong abt that#IF ANYONE IS A TWINK!!!!!! LOOK AT KOU!!!!!!#i cant even really say Nakaou bc that guy has some mass. Like a twunk or a twunkish hunk or smth#BUT LAMMEK... bro
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screw this “what’s the meaning of life?” bs. the real question is how the fuck do twinks age? like how do you move on from this?
how does that turn into an old man?
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‼️SPOILERS FOR TF ONE‼️
(Sorta) anyway i need opinions on this topic
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What are your favorite stories to do?
- Jocks
- Himbos
- Twinks
- Twunks
- Biker boys
- Bears
Love your work
Well… I like the stories that end up with the men I would most like to have in bed myself. Or in whose body I would most like to be in bed…
I wasn't exactly a jock at university… More the "sporty nerd" type. That's why I like Jock TF. I'm an avid swimmer myself with a regularly epilated body. That's why I like bear TF and transformations where men don't smell like chlorine, soap and body lotion (I have enough of that myself).
I always say that I became gay because I love men. Real men. That's why I'm not usually into twinks and twunks��. And all the more into men in leather. In chaps and harnesses as well as in Dainese motorcycle suits. I love my bike. That's why I also like leather and biker TF.
But now I don't like TFs at all. Guys, you've all helped me survive the holidays without running amok. But now I'm on vacation until the new year with hopefully lots of fun in the real world. I love you all and wish you all the best for the new year!
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This is part of the Secret TF Writers Swap, a small "secret santa" event between writers organized by the lovely @alphajocklover.
Thank you very much for organizing it !
================================================
To @fafnir19
You sat at your desk, readying yourself for yet another soul-sucking day of office work.
You may be writing loads of stories on the internet, of people growing in and out of wealth, of demons and creatures, and most of all of transformation, but back in the real world, everything feels so much more static. Yesterday’s problems are today’s problems, and today’s problems are tomorrow’s problems. A never-ending series of crisis after crisis, which somehow always swap roots yet never swap effects. You can at least consider yourself fortunate that your pay is comfortable enough so that you can weather these, even if it means having to look in the eyes of someone who has little, and answer their request for starting something greater in the negative.
But today, there seems to be some agitation in the office. A change in the routine. Something to bring you out of the intensive mundane and the boring busyness.
So you ask the colleague with which you share desk a part in today’s gossip, and what he answers may surprise you :
“Nathaniel Nostitz has come here ! I don’t know why he’s here, but I’m sure everyone wants to bag him !”
Now, as a banker, you do keep an eye on the important fortunes in your area, and the Nostitz family is one of them – if not the most important. You know that their family comes from Silesia, but that there was recently some family drama with his son, or at least that’s what the few articles of showbiz about him that some colleague forced you to read said. You don’t actually care, but you do know that such an important family coming to see a standard local bank is quite… unusual.
But you know to keep your head down and not cause unnecessary problems. You won’t be able to convince him to do anything with you, and he may be tempted to destroy your career if you’re too annoying. Therefore, you go back on working on your computer, some case of investment account or something. Boring, but safe.
That’s why you were surprised when, suddenly, you hear a deep sultry voice speaking right next to you.
“Greetings. I think I have a proposal that may interest you.”
You look up to suddenly see a middle-aged looking blonde man, impeccably dressed and styled, sporting a bit bushy beard.
Is he… actually Mr. Nostitz ? He looks quite a bit younger than you expected… and more attractive… but it may be due to him having access to all the best treatments money can pay, after all. However, as he looks right in your eyes, you suddenly understand that the proposal – a business proposal, you guess – was aimed at you.
“Oh, er…” You stumble, not having expected this turn of events. “Greetings to you too, sir… what is that proposal about ?”
He smiles when you call him ‘sir’. Somehow, this smile seems almost… predatory ? Of some kind ?
“I’d be willing to place some of my fortune in your care… therefore in the care of this bank, if you were willing to grant me a few... favors.” He smiles, trying his hardest to look innocent while he is, in effect, holding you hostage to your company’s expectations. - I… I’ll think about it, sir…” You answer evasively, taken by surprise. - Of course, of course !” He smiles, looking even more predatory and threatening than before. He gives you a black piece of cardboard paper. “Here’s my business card, for when you’ve taken your decision.”
On that not-so-subtle order to accept, he takes his leave, leaving you confused in-between the jealous and judgy eyes of your colleagues. And as expected, you’re immediately summoned by your boss. He urges you to accept without delay, promising you a share of the high profits that a share of the Nostitz fortune will bring the bank.
And the door if you dare refuse.
That’s why you’re now here, in front of this huge manor, as ready as you can manage to be to throw yourself in the lion’s den.
The manor is very big, and very beautiful. Its fine architecture betrays its age, which shows how entrenched the Nostitz familly is, around here. A butler welcomes you inside, and leads you up to Mr. Nostitz’s office, though not without ridding you of your coat. And as you stand in front of the old wooden ebony door, you gather your courage before knocking.
“Enter.” The low and sultry voice orders.
You follow suit, opening the door, and finding Mr. Nostitz reading some files on a well-organized desk, with only a suspicious brown mallet throwing the neatness off.
“Hello, Mr. Nostitz.” You start, but as you’re about to continue, he cuts you with his authoritative voice. - Greetings. So you’re here to discuss my… proposition, are you not ? - Y-yes, sir, I am.”
He puts his files down, and stands up, towards one of the racks on the wall, looking through binder after binder.
“You see… ever since my son decided that our wealth was… problematic, I had a little project in mind. And when I saw you, I knew you were the perfect candidate for it.”
Son leaving ? Wealth problematic ? You the perfect candidate ? … it seems like the family drama you desperately wanted to know as little as you could about comes back to bite you in the ass…
“I’m sorry sir, I-” You start backing off, but he cuts you once again, his mere presence silencing you. - I want to do a little experiment on you.” He says, having found the documents he was searching for, reaching for the mallet and opening it in front of your eyes. “These… potions, you may call them, have some effects that I want to study. And you’re the perfect man for it. - Sir, I’m sorry to say that, but I don’t know if I want to risk my health with an untested substance !” You start refusing, tampering it as much as you can. - Of course, your refusal is to be expected when presented with so few information.” Somehow, this felt like a jab at you. “However, I guarantee that it is safe, it has been tested on numerous animals, and it’s been proven to be safe for humans. Besides, the papers I brought out here make me liable for any disease related to this… treatment.”
At least he was thoughtful, and didn’t ask you to jump in with full faith. However, he does ask you to jump in blind, which is more problematic.
“And, this treatment…” You interject, finding an opening in the conversation. “What does it do ? - Ah, yes, a most important query.” He comments, yet again preventing you from going further in your thought. “Let’s just say that it may trigger a few… changes in your body. Most importantly, it will make you look younger.”
Changes ? Younger ? These are two keywords that draw your attention, as they usually belong to that other part of your life… You are quite a bit more excited than you should be, but the chance to experiment with at least part of one of your oldest dreams, one that felt like it could only ever belong to fiction, clouds your judgment.
Such was Mr. Nostitz’s plan.
“I… I’m interested.” You finally manage, feeling it’s safe and enviable enough to throw the remainder of your caution to the wind. - That’s perfect. Then, I’d ask you to sign those papers, please.”
You skimp over them quickly before signing, hopefully catching anything big that would be lying in the text, but you find none. Assuming that no surprises remained, you sign. On that, Mr. Nostitz smiles maliciously, yet again looking like a predator, before reaching in the mallet and drawing a small glass flask, half-filled by an opaque cyan liquid.
“Then we should start now, don’t you say ? Please drink this.” He orders with his deep, authoritative voice. - O-okay…”
You were not expecting to start this so soon, but you’re quite weak to the strength of his voice… So you drink it. It doesn’t taste good, a bit too salty to your taste, but it’s not that bad. You know foods that tasted a lot worse. As you feel it coursing down your esophagus, you start expecting some effects, standing in silence, looking discreetly at your skin. But this just makes Mr. Nostitz elegantly laugh.
“Are you expecting instantaneous results ? You should wait until tomorrow, at the very least !”
You blush of shame from this, before deciding to cut this meeting there, since the treatment has already been administered. But before you can properly address your salutations, he stops you :
“I’m sorry, but now isn’t the time to go. See, it’s already late, so you won’t be able to go back to work.” He is correct, it is 7PM already, but you don’t understand why he’s stopping you like that. - I’m sorry, sir, but I… should really go home.” You say with the utmost care, not wanting to appear rude. - My, don’t you know you that, during the duration of the experiment, you agreed to lodging here ?”
You freeze.
You didn’t know that. Was it written in the document you signed ? Did you not notice it ? You did skimp through it, but surely such a motion would have jumped to you… However, taken in surprise, you improvise, lying to try and save face.
“Y-yes, of course, but I… need to get some things from home ! I can’t stay here with only what I have on me !” Hopefully he will buy your excuse. - Don’t worry, we have everything necessary on hand here. It might not be what you’re used to, but… everyone needs a bit of luxury in their life, if you catch what I’m saying.” He snidely smiles to you. - I’ll… see what I can do with…” You admit defeat, though surrendering to luxury isn’t the hardest thing to do. - That’s great ! The butler will lead you to your room.”
On that, the butler opens the door, and urges you to follow him. He leads you through beautiful corridor after beautiful corridor, all stinking money, until you reach another door. Inside is a spacious bedroom suite, likely bigger than your first flat, even without including the bathroom. It looks quite a bit more modern than the rest of the house, but with no less old money woody tones.
The butler leaves you alone inside, where, immediately after putting down the few things you were still carrying, you rush to the bathroom. However, you’re disappointed when you look inside the mirror and… it’s still you on the other side. Well, you expect it to still be you, but still, not seeing any change does bum you down.
This taken care of, you look around the room to get a bit more familiar with it. If it’s where you’re going to stay in the near future, you’d want to know where to find things of interest.
You start by the bathroom, finding a lot of hygiene stuff, including products for the skin and for the hair, as well as multiple bottles of expensive cologne and, weirdly enough, condoms… that are too big for your dick. Great. You move to the closet, in which you find a wealth of clothes, all fitted to your size – though they’re a bit loose on you, not by much, but noticeable enough – as if Mr. Nostitz knew you’d come. However, you’re surprised by their diversity. While there of course are the dress shirts and suits you’d expect, as well as polos, sweaters and other preppy clothes, there’s also some more young – for lack of a better word – clothes like a collection of jackets, t-shirts and even tank tops.
You close the closet back up, thinking to yourself that you’d never need this much clothes, but that you appreciate the thought. Having barely closed that piece of furniture, the butler invites you for dinner. He leads you to a grand dinner room, outfitted with a long wooden table, on which only two places were set.
You take place in front of one, while Mr. Nostitz takes place on the other side. On that follows a floury of expensive dishes, served as if you were at a high-grade restaurant. While you ate each of the courses, you entertained a lively discussion with Mr. Nostitz about investment, and about how his money would be taken care of, now that it is in your care.
That is, after all, the primary reason of your stay. Even if it got eclipsed by another.
Once the meal was finished, Mr. Nostitz waved you goodbye, and the butler accompanied you to your room. You did as usual, preparing yourself for bed, changing into your nightwear, brushing your teeth and all that. But as you were doing that, you noticed that your hair looked a bit… brighter than usual ?
It must have been the lighting, you think to yourself as you fall to sleep in the giant and extremely comfortable bed.
You are woken up by the butler at an early hour, as he tells you that breakfast will be served before you go to work. Ah… yes, right, you forgot, with how comfy the bed was, that you weren’t in holidays. So you stretch a bit, but as you enter the bathroom, something doesn’t look right…
It takes you a moment before you manage to figure it out.
Your hair was now blonde ! And curly !
You look out to your bedroom, but the butler isn’t here, so you look back in the mirror. God, that hair looks so healthy… You pinch yourself a few times, before you decide that you’re actually in the real world, and that this is now your hair.
A bit confused, you look in the myriad of products, and see that all the products for the hair are made for wavy or curly hair… how fortunate… So, you put some in your hair, hoping that they will make the mess that you woke up with more dignified, before continuing your morning routine as you usually do.
However, now the fact that there actually was a transformation makes you all excited for whatever comes next. You’re actually living your fantasy ! The one you thought wasn’t impossible in the real world !
Jovial, you eat, and enter the limousine, before being dropped off in front of your bank. You’re so happy about all that that you don’t even register the fact that you’re coming to work in a limousine, and sporting a healthier, curlier and blonder hairstyle than you ever had in your life. Though your colleague don’t ignore that, as you do manage to overhear people gossiping about those very things, you… really couldn’t care less. It just felt quite unimportant, really, when compared to everything else.
The day of work was over pretty quickly, and before you could even worry about going back to the manor, you see the limousine that drove you to your bank stationed in front, disturbing traffic in the meantime. You’d usually feel a bit guilty of being the reason of other’s frustrations, but somehow, you’re so happy that you just don’t care. Yet again.
As you enter, greeted by the chauffeur, it even starts feeling a bit normal, how you’re greeted with the utmost deference, how you are given privileges, how people are waiting for you…
You shake your head. This state of affairs is temporary, do not get used to the luxury. In a week, you’ll be back to your usual grind.
Arrived at destination, you enter the manor, expecting to see Mr. Nostitz, but he is nowhere to be found. That’s weird, you haven’t seen him in the whole day… you were eager to show him the golden curls you acquired… You furrow your brow at your sudden thought, finding them a bit out of character until you remember that you’re in an experiment. Of course the one responsible for holding the experiment should keep a close look on their patient.
But here you are, on your bed, not having seen him anywhere. You had the time to explore the mansion further, to write part of your next story, and relax, yet when the butler called you to go eat, you still hadn’t seen him. Taking place at the table, you also noticed that there was only one place setting. None for the elusive master of this mansion.
Adding insult to injury, before the first course, the butler comes back with a small flask, of the same kind that you took yesterday, filled in half with yesterday’s opaque cyan liquid. You sigh of frustration and take it from the butler’s hand, a bit more aggressively than you wanted to, and drink it, before unleashing your growing anger at the poor employee :
“Why isn’t Mr. Nostitz here ? He should be eating with me ! - Sir, Mr. Nostitz’s schedule is very busy, you were fortunate to have been able to share a dinner with him yesterday.” Explains calmly the butler, as if he’s seen this kind of tantrums many times. - That’s… understandable…” You answer, starting to calm down.
You eat each subsequent course in silence, trying to understand the reason of your anger. It’s not as if you really cared about Mr. Nostitz… he hosts you and runs this experiment, but you have only known each others for two days, and it’s not like it was love at first sight… After finishing your meal, you come back to your room, hoping to have a quiet evening after that feat of anger.
And as such started to create a bit of a routine for yourself.
On the morning, you checked the mirror for any change, noticing that you got taller, younger, more muscular and handsomer – for lack of a better word. You then take breakfast, ride up the limousine to your bank, slog through a workday becoming progressively boring as the days go on, and get relieved to find the limousine waiting for you in front of the building. Coming back to the mansion, you drink the flask, and then come out of your shell more and more, watching TV on the huge one in the living room, playing the latest Fifa if the urge takes you, going for a walk in the big gardens or even working out in the private gym, that seemed suspiciously new. And before sleeping, you use a progressively bigger amount of beauty products, noticing the odd few additional changes like your dick enlarging or your eyes taking on a blue color.
This life is becoming progressively comfier – not that it was painful by any means – and you feel more and more at home in the giant, faceless manor that you inhabit. Having a butler take care of you, being driven by a limousine, eating the finest foods, wearing the finest silk… all that luxury is starting to become second nature. The week flew by, and it was already time for the weekend. The last days of your experiment, the last days of a luxury that you will surely miss. And all that, without even having caught a glimpse of Mr. Nostitz.
You are now basically unrecognizable from the tired banker that came in this mansion. Now a handsome young man with blonde curls, all the fancy clothes that were bought for you fit like a glove thanks to the new muscles. As you take a last photo in front of the estate’s forest, you wonder if you should try opening an Instagram account. After all, your good looks aren’t going away, and work is just getting so boring...
But suddenly, your butler asks you to come urgently. Nonchalantly, you follow him to the mansion, where there seem to be a lot more people than usual. Is there a party of some kind happening ? You stroll in, finding Mr. Nostitz at the center of a small crowd. Finally ! He is here ! He will finally be able to see what you became !
So you hurry in his direction, drawing the ire of some of the guests. But you don’t actually care, they shouldn’t have been in your way in the first place. You are now in hearing distance from the architect of your experiment, but as you’re about to make yourself known to him, his voice overpowers you. However, it isn’t addressed to you, but rather at a guest.
“Cassandra, why must you raise this issue in a day of rejoicing !” As he told that, he looked briefly at you, noticing your presence. - Nathaniel, you cannot continue this charade ! Leandra has long passed, and even your own son agrees that you can’t continue claiming the fortune ! You are not part of our family anymore !” A well-dressed woman – Cassandra, you assume – with long curly dirty blonde hair insisted, angrily. - This son of mine isn’t able to manage our fortune, you can at least agree with me on that. Besides, I was married to Leandra, my beloved, so you know the implications. - Quit trying to act as if you’re part of our kin. We will need to see you in court, if you do not heed this last warning !” She said ominously, although it only drew Mr. Nostitz’s smile. An evil and predatory smile, as always. - If you’re talking like that… then I assume you are not acquainted with her second son.”
Second son ? You thought he only had one ! … and clearly, so did the rest of the room, who fell silent, looking at Mr. Nostitz with incredulity.
“Stop inventing excuses. If Leandra had another son, I would have been aware ! - Well, in this case, we may make introductions !”
He suddenly strides towards you, grabbing you by the arm, and as you stand there incredulous, he announces :
“I present to you my son. Leandra’s second son, and my second son. The true heir of the Nostitz family.”
A gasp of shock sleeps through the entire room, which would have included you if Mr. Nostitz hadn’t squeezed your arm at the right moment. Just what is he playing at ! Last you checked, you remember your parents, and none of them seem to belong to the Nostitz family that stands here, and you’re quite sure that Mr. Nostitz is in no way your father.
Yet, after the initial shock and denials, you hear people in attendance starting to notice similarities between you and your supposed parents. Some point out the curls like Leandra, or the blonde like Mr. Nostitz, some say your face looks like one member of the family or another, and other say you stature reminds them of Mr. Nostitz.
Out of them all, Cassandra, although she was just as shocked as the others, if not more, was the first to speak out against this assertions.
“This… is ridiculous ! You can’t just invent a new son to keep a hold of the money ! - I’m not inventing anyone. He was just… raised in another family to prevent him from being corrupted like his older brother. - This is pure and utter nonsense ! I require proof ! Irrefutable proof that he is your son, and Leandra’s son ! - All in due time, I knew you would react like that, so I prepared all the necessary prerequisites to make a paternity test. I wanted to present him to you all to continue this process.” Suddenly, he looks at you in the eyes. “Of course, my son will be enchanted to cooperate in your quest for proof, isn’t he ?”
His look was a dare. A dare to start living a life in a lie. A dare to continue living in the mansion you inhabit. Although he neglected you during your whole stay, although you have a life outside this mansion, although you have actual parents and family, you… can’t seem to be able to refuse his request.
Is it the luxury that drew you in ? Or the transformation, making you become a whole new person altogether ? Or is it Mr. Nostitz’s authority that you don’t want to defy ? Whatever the actual reason, you smirk, and cannot help but say, in the most proud and obnoxious voice that you have :
“Yes, of course, father.”
You pose, as your butler takes a picture in front of your vineyards.
You are dressed in an expensive shirt, with a luxury watch and obnoxious Gucci sunglasses. And you wouldn’t expect any less than this display of wealth. Because even though you don’t actually run those yards, your father being the one to generate all the wealth that you benefit from, you still own them. You also own a lot of other things, noteworthy between all these possessions being the Nostitz mansion.
However, now, you don’t work a day in your life. You quit you banker job as soon as the DNA test results came in, showing that you were indeed the son of Nathaniel Nostitz and Leandra Nostitz, as this life wasn’t yours anymore. Rather, you now spend your time on Instagram, modeling and throwing party after party with your new famous or otherwise wealthy friends. These activities let you earn a surprising amount of money, although it is just a drop in the ocean of all your wealth.
But you know that you are only a puppet, living a life of hedonism while your father cultivates power on your back, created with the only aim of holding on to a fortune. And you couldn’t care less. Hedonism is fun, once you give in, and it makes you happier than you have ever been. If the price for that is any sense of life achievement… then you are more than willing to pay it all.
Besides, it’s not as if you could actually say no to your beloved father.
#male transformation#male tf#secret tf writer swap#twunk tf#preppy tf#jock tf#hairstyle tf#mental change#identity change#transformation#tf story#collab tf
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hey so I'm a new lucky Luke fan and started to read the comics recently and why the fuck is most of the plot that has the Dalton bros is just a short guy bringing his brothers to his break up, like the dwarf mf just straight up "this only between YOU and ME,luke" why tf let your bros witness with you how you fumbled a twunk ,your bros are at their early 30s they SHOULD be at the clup or salon brooo.
SO TRUE they always follow him just to see him fail and get put back in jail, they really should just go clubbing instead. Joe is SO petty and will never let things go haha. And 99% of the time Averell is just like "When do we eat?" And Jack and William just watch Joe try to fight Luke like 👁👄👁
I mean, Lucky Luke killed their cousins so I guess that's a pretty good reason to be mad, but at what point do you just let it go 😭
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finally watching rwrb movie…. first question why does alex’s laptop have a UT sticker if he’s supposed to be living in the white house in DC. secondly june not being in this is not only robbing us of an iconic girlboss side character but also makes alex an only child which throws his vibes WAY off. something disturbing abt his personality being Like That as an only child. can’t explain it. thirdly who tf is this twunk journalist in the cafe. Uma Thurman is slaying of course. no notes. I wanna know what they paid her to be in this.
#rwrb#rwrb movie#also I feel like the actor who plays alex is overacting and its making his Weird Only Child Vibes worse#only 23 min in. lets see what these faggots can do
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kirill is really hot 😛
-🍒
ate that fortnite twunk tf up fr🙏
#daniel bernhardt#kirill jw#kirill john wick#wickblr#🍒anon#.evren answers#iosef is a twunk i thougjy i should mention thaty
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Wait why are you supporting that poll?? I thought your polls were over, am I mistaken?? Do you just wanna still be active on the account or did I miss something? /genq
Also why support that side of the argument? (Talking about the twink poll, where you agreed with the borderline rude person running the account 💀) Look up the definition of twink and twunk. There IS a word for larger people who are otherwise twinks, they’re called twunks. Don’t just lump them in with a separate label??? Use the word they already have lol
No, there cannot be ‘fat twinks’, those are twunks. Twunks are valid and we love them, please don’t erase the word :,) </3
hi!!!! ive been working on and just started round one for a second showdown in this account. that has been a thing! sorry you missed it i guess????
you said /genq but it came off as pretty agressive tbh so im not sure how to feel about that????
to adress the twink poll
1. The rules stated both twinks and twunks were allowed! your point that a twunk isnt a twink means nothing here :)
2. a lot of ppl dont think fat men can be hunks either, cause hunks are "strong not fat". so by your logic a twunk would NOT include fat people, actually! then you could say "oh there's the term otter" but thats for hairy men. now u have the fat hairless gay mlm who id w the label of twink but arent accepted under that, or under anything else apparently
3. if you were following the poll before it started, there was a conversation about fatphobia in he gay community, where op even said they would extend the poll to include otters, until one anon said that he, as a fat gay man, was happy to see people being so accepting of "fat twinks", so op decided to accept fat twinks.
4. out of all the characteristics that make someone a twink, why is being skinny so important? there isnt a fat equivalent (see point 2) so whats wrong w fat gay men who fit all the other criteria also wanting to use the label? why does that bother you?
5. the poll runner of @twinkpoll responding to rude people w rudeness does not make them rude. None of these ppl cared to speak up when the nominations were up. everyone actively involved at the time was aware and supportive of op's decision to include fat twinks. thats why guillermo got in. People nominated him a lot.
6. again, a twunk is Not a fat twink. The term for a fat twink does not exist. But even if you were right, it wouldnt mean anything because the rules always included twunks too. literally from when the nominations went live it included twunks and nobody cared until the fat guy got in
7. im fat!!!! i might not be a twink but i have other issues of certain labels leaving me out because of my weight!! thats plain fatphobia and ppl just want to believe it isnt because coming up 2 excuses makes them feel better!! if one fat person is happy w more ppl accepting fat mlm as twinks (like the anon in twink poll) i will be here to support them.
8. Why tf are u messaging me about this if ur not even aware enough of my blog to know i was running another poll? where did you come from?? if you're just here to accuse me of "supporting the wrong side" in a stupid fight that shouldnt be happening, see yourself out.
also dont be a coward if u wanna start shit w someone get off anon, if i get another anon message about this its going straight to the trash
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Why are you writing so much stuff about asian men is it a fetish thing can I get a story of a white skinned twink taking muscle from guys at the gym?
I have also written a tonne of stuff about white men transforming. I don't have a fetish for Asian men, or Black men, or Latino men, rather I just love muscle and size. I love when Asian men are huge and massive, I love when Black men are huge and massive, I love when White men are huge and massive and all other kinds of guys being huge and built like a tank. Race isn't connected to it at all, I simply am a slut and a whore for all massive meatheads. However all things considered lately I am tending to write more about men of colour in the non prompt stories I'm writing and thats because for a majority of my prompts I get the default is white and thats not a bad thing but men of colour are members of this community too and I want to give them stories they can enjoy as well, not just seeing scenarios they find hot only reflected in race tf. I dunno man I had a conversation with someone a few months ago and he said how he was black and his fantasy was to be turned into a white twunk whilst his boyfriend got turned into a black bodybuilder but its hard for him to even find stories where a black man exists as the character without it being a guy becoming a black man and from that point I have just made an effort to try and be more inclusive with the kinds of guys represented, which I'm not perfect at but Im getting better.
Typically the way I write a story is I have a general concept, then I find a picture for a jumping off point and tie it all together. The happened with my last story "no backsies" where the first image was one I found hot so all other images were based around it.
As for your story request, Im pretty sure I already have a story like that somewhere on my page, but I want to take a moment to just say anyone who is sending me a prompt you dont have to include it in the prompt if you dont want to but if you want to DM me telling me some basic details like your race so your story can feel a bit more personal please do because I know it can be disappointing getting a notification saying there was a reply to your prompt only to see the images don't line up with you. Men of colour exist in this community and they deserve transformation stories too. (Side note, if this makes you feel comfortable to ask for a prompt that's great however don't expect it to be answered for a while I'm in the middle of final assessments and starting exam prep so I'm very hit or miss with responding to prompts and writing in general rn) Happy wishing to everyone in the community.
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To The Ground Floor
Heyo- Saw this next picture and just had to use it so here’s a businessman to dumb sub twunk TF!
If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for my 1K follower post here’s the link- https://forms.gle/NE66kaH4KJxkhgPk9
Probably be wrapping it up/posting a poll soon! -Occam
I don’t know what my company was thinking when they scheduled our conference in Tenerife. It would be one thing if it was a retreat or team vacation, but it is nearly impossible to get any real work done with all these tourists stomping around and getting in my way. I was set to make it early to our morning meeting, as I always do, before this twat forced his way in before I could get to the close door button. He surely noticed since he glared at me before returning to focus on the only thing that seems to matter to him, his vanity.
In retrospect I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help but scoff as he started to take a picture of his reflection in the door. It was immature, but when dealing with this crowd of influencers or whatever these childish twits has put me off my usually stoic demeanor. He immediately responded with aggression, “You laughin’ mate? You lot all think you’re so much better than us eh?” He scowls once more at me and to his credit, I do think myself superior to him. Not afraid to say it either.
I open my mouth to shoot some clever insult at him but before I can the delinquent fully spits at me! Where does he get off! The elevator chimes as it stops at the sixth floor. I grab my handkerchief to wipe the spit off my dress shoes as I hear him run off, shouting “you’ll get yours ya git!” I look up to see the small of his back showing beneath his trailing coat and mesh top. I can’t help but stare as he runs, asshole he may be but, god, he is hot isn’t he?
I cough as I can’t believe I thought that! He’s absolute filth! Parading himself around dressed like that on a work day, my word! I don’t notice that there is no longer a handkerchief in my hand as I reach to wipe the spit off my shoes with my now empty hand. As I finally wrest my eyes from his pert body I notice that the villain pushed every button in the elevator. So help me god if I’m late to my meeting I will find him and- well, there’s not much I can do. I’m not exactly the peak specimen, unlike, uh him I suppose.
The doors click closed and begin to take me to the fifth floor. I consider hopping off to take the stairs but I’m sure he’ll be there waiting for me. I go to check my rolex when I notice I’m not wearing it? I would never go to a meeting without it though? My mind grows foggy as I thoughtlessly wipe the spit still on my hand on my suit. God it’s a little warm in this elevator isn’t it. I sniff the air and find that it still smells of that jerk. His cologne must’ve been something intense.
I continue to whiff the air before realizing that it is clearly not perfume but his natural body odor, blushing as I grow slightly jealous at his scent. I find my mind drifting as I think what a man he must be to smell so, mm. The only word I can think is, virile? Ugh, I need to get to work, this is going to set me back. The doors clink open to the fifth floor as the heat only continues to grow. Why am I wearing such a thick suit jacket anyway? It is so fucking hot on this island. I absolutely hate it here. I’ll just take it off for the rest of the elevator ride. Yeah, that couldn’t hurt right? My eyes glaze over as I think of his coat trailing off his head as he ran down the hallway and I bite my lip.
God that hot fucker. My jacket falls to the floor and before I can catch it it’s as if it was never there. I grunt as I think once more of my upcoming meeting. Surely they won’t judge right? My mind shuffles as I don’t even try to understand what has happened to my jacket. The fogginess in my head swiftly finds a form though as I see his smug smirk in my mind. Fuck I- I need to fuck him, or be fucked or? I grunt once more, my voice noticeably more dull. I try to fan my shirt open as the heat grows worse and I find myself growing hornier by the second. The elevator is already on the way to the fourth floor without my notice. I give up fanning my shirt and instead just open the buttons when I am suddenly met with something I cannot reconcile. When the fuck did I get, such, fuckable pecs? I press a finger into my own chest and start to drool as I see the depth of my muscle. I see my brown nipples grow and try to wipe the pooling drool from my mouth as I think how much my body looks like that uh, that twit? No that uh, that hot fucker? I feel like I’m losing my mind. Or, losing myself? Uh..
The doors open and close on floor four as I struggle to think of absolutely anything but that, uh, stud. My own chest jutting out forces me to think of his own hearty pecs. The powerful curves of his body stretching his fishnet top, ugh. I see the biceps now on my own arms and struggle to not flex them thinking of that staring at himself in the elevator’s reflective wall and posing. I stare at the abs pushing out of my torso and think of his cinched waist peeking out from those sagging pants. God why didn’t I just try to fuck him then oohh.. Or no, Why didn’t I give myself to him..I moan as I loosen my belt, trying to allow my growing erection some air, instead giving my cock and ass more space to expand.
God his fuckable ass was impossible to miss even through those jeans. I bite my lip once more trying to stop myself from moaning as the doors open to the third floor. No one is there to see or hear me as my pants drop to the floor and disappear as if they were never there. As if I would wear pleated pants ever I think blushing. My cock begins to grow to fill my boxers. Or no hee hee- Surely I’m not wearing boxers right haha, giggling as I look down and see the clear imprint of my erection in my tight spandex. Mikey would never let me wear something so unattractive as boxers~
I feel an itch in my crotch as I think of Mikey once more, not hesitating to wonder how I could possibly know his name. Nor why he brings me such intense, feelings. It’s just, I’m so lucky to have him! Ah- I might lose control if I keep thinking about him, I need to keep it together for my uh, meeting? I shove my hand into my crotch to deal with whatever that itch is when I find it’s not my still growing cock, but a jungle of pubes that have begun to grow down there. I feel my fingers drag through them, now covered in sweat as the pubes begin to push themselves above my waistline.
I giggle to myself as I see the thick black hair inch its way to create a perfect treasure trail up my stomach. I’ve gotta keep it looking good for Mikey after all! I play with the lengthening hair in my crotch, giggling to myself, as the elevator makes its landing on the second floor. I raise my sweaty hand to smell it as some prude stares in disbelief in the elevator lobby. I smile coily at him as he narrows his eyes in shock. He almost looks a little familiar but I’d certainly not waste any of my time on him haha!
He decides not to get on for some reason, not that I care as I look at my sharpening reflection. I play with my chest feeling the ebb and flow of my strength as I start to smell my own scent fill the elevator. I notice my feet are now bare on the dirty elevator’s floor. Ah, I hope Mikey won’t be upset if my feet are gross, smiling to myself as I think of him chewing me out. I feel a similar forest begin to grow in my pits as the elevator stops unceremoniously on the first floor before making its way to the ground floor.
I rub my hands all over on my now almost completely unclothed body as I feel my spandex shrink and tighten into a yellow speedo. My hands glide smoothly around the muscular curves, only ever getting caught on my tangled pubes as I giggle to myself. Wasn’t there something I had to do when I got to the ground floor? I raise my arm to bask in my scent as the elevator finally delivers me to my destination, and who could be standing there but Mikey!
“Mikey!” I shout at him! He looks so happy to see me, before responding, “well you’re looking great aren’t ya love.” He pushes and prods me as if he’s inspecting me as I proudly stand there giving him the doe eyes he demands. He smirks as he pulls me out of the elevator and plants his lips on mine. I can barely help but come right there as I feel my cock stretch at my speedo. I moan but keep it together, feeling his pursed lips grow into a smirk before he pulls away and laughs.
I tilt my head at him before he speaks once more, “you remember what you’re supposed to be doing right now right, pet?” My face grows warm with blush, surely betraying my cluelessness as I struggle to remember. I had a meeting or? No, Haha As if! I, I could never work a stupid office job~ I try to look as coy as possible, inviting him to jog my memory. His eyes grow dark, not from aggression, but a hunger welling within him as he answers, “I need ya to get those posh wankers and bring them to me eh, doll? Need to them to submit yeh?”
My smile grows wide as my mind fills with excitement for this task. I’m gonna be so good and Mikey will be so proud of me! None of those boring businessmen will be able to resist me hehe! I begin to make my way out to the beach looking for any salarymen looking especially susceptible to my charms. I strut around, my body on display to everyone, monkeysuit suckers and other horny tourists alike. As if any of them have something more important going on hee hee! Soon they’ll all realize there is nothing more important than pleasuring Mikey!
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