"Get A Piercing," They Said. "It'd Be Cool," They Said. I've Always Struggled With Resisting Peer Pressure.

"Get a piercing," they said. "It'd be cool," they said. I've always struggled with resisting peer pressure. Just my luck, getting pierced by a witch or whatever he was. I knew I saw his eyes glow purple when he pierced my sensitive nip, but none of my stupid friends would believe me! Fuck, my body won't stop growing. I can't believe how much muscle I've put on! A few minutes ago I was a scrawny twink and now I look like I could go head-to-head with the jocks on the football team! I'd probably win too, with these new massive biceps. My god, why does it have to feel so fucking good! I don't want to be a dumb jock, but losing my brain feels better than any orgasm!

In His Father's Shoes

With bated breath, Timothy tiptoed into the family's home office. Hoping to find his stashed birthday present, but instead found his father, Tim. Tim's smug expression made it clear Timothy's entrance was expected.

"Don't even bother pretending to be surprised this time, Jr. I catch you every year trying to sneak a peek at your birthday present." Tim snickered.

Timothy laughed. "Fine. Fine. So, what's the punishment, old man?"

"No punishment," Tim said plainly. "In fact, I'm going to reward your childishly devious behavior. You can have your present early this year."

Timothy beamed with surprise. "What!? Really!?"

Tim's expression got even smugger. With one foot, he gently pushed his kicked-off and well-polished dress shoes in front of his son. "Happy birthday, Jr."

Timothy's expression quickly went from joyous anticipation to disappointed confusion. "Your… shoes? That's my present?! You're joking, right!?"

"Try them on." Tim teased, pushing the shoes closer to Timothy.

Timothy's confusion only grew as he looked down at his father's, well, his new shoes.

"Where's the enthusiasm? Where's the gratitude?" Tim teased even further.

Timothy sighed, slightly smirking and jokingly rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'll humor you, old man. But I better get my real present after!"

With a raised eyebrow of suspicion, Timothy slipped his bare size 9 feet into his father's size 12 dress shoes. The shoes clearly hadn't been off his father's feet long - warm like a heated blanket. Oddly, the warmth was comforting to Timothy.

"How are they, Jr?" Tim teased.

Timothy exaggerated the look of confusion on his face. "Strange… they're a little too big for me."

"You can't fool me, Jr." Tim teased, slightly less playful this time. "You love them."

"Okay, Dad. No more fooling around. Where's my real-" Timothy lost all thought, silenced by a faint voice suddenly popping into his head. "He's right. You do love them. You could easily spend all day standing here in your father's shoes… your shoes."

"You look a little tense all of a sudden, Jr." Tim teased. "You're hanging out with your old man. Nothing stressful about that. Just relax."

"He's right. Your father is always right. Relax. Relax. Relax." the voice droned, this time louder than before. The word "Relax" echoed through Timothy's mind, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Suddenly, Timothy felt as if he had just gotten done having a full body massage - every inch of him utterly relaxed.

"There, much better." Tim relished in his son's newly calm expression. "You feel nothing but relaxed. Too relaxed to think. Too relaxed to do anything but stand there. Let all thought dissipate. Let it all evaporate. Clear your mind completely. Let my words be the only thing that resides within your mind."

"No thoughts of your own. Only fathers. Only fathers. Only fathers." the voice rang throughout Timothy's head, erasing all apprehension. He felt blank. Empty and still, like a statue.

Tim maliciously smirked. "My words are truth. My words are your reality. Do you know why, Jr? Because I'm your father. I made you. I'm your creator, your god."

"He made you. He created you. You're his son, his creation. He owns you. Owns your body. Owns your mind." the voice droned, no longer resembling a stranger but his very own inner voice. Suddenly, Timothy was washed over by a wave of faith, deifying his father in his mind.

Tim looked his unmoving son up and down, grinning like a supervillain, enjoying every second of his son's blank expression. Trying to contain his laughter as Timothy began to drool. "You know, those shoes are a little big on you." he teased, his eyes now on the perfectly-polished dress shoes. "Big shoes require big feet. Size 12 feet."

"Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet." Timothy's new inner voice droned. His feet vibrated, slowly expanding and widening, stopping only when his feet fit perfectly into the shoes.

"Much, much better." Tim smiled, but his satisfied smile only lasted for a moment. "Hmm, now your feet are almost too big for your body, Jr! Big feet belong on a tall, meaty body."

"Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty." Timothy's inner voice droned. His ankles pulsed, spreading up through his entire body. His clothes tore as his legs stretched and thickened; torso broadened; butt swelled; chest expanded; neck and arms bulked. Timothy was now as tall and wide as his father.

"Perfect. Simply perfect." Tim was beyond thrilled with his son's new and improved physique. "Hmm, that baby face of yours doesn't quite match your new masculine physique, does it, Jr? A strong, masculine face is what a masculine body requires. A face like mine. My face."

"Father's face. Father's face. Father's face." Timothy's inner voice droned. His face pulsed, losing all sense of boyishness as it morphed into chiseled statuesque perfection. His wavy hair receded, leaving it short and more mature. His face now resembled his father's exactly - a mirror image.

"Perfect. However, Do you know what should come from such a manly face? A deep, manly voice. A voice like mine. My voice." Tim scoffed.

"Father's voice. Father's voice. Father's voice." Timothy's inner voice droned. His newly thickened neck vibrated, significantly jutting his Adam's apple.

"Let's hear that new manly voice in action, shall we, Jr?" Tim teased. "Speak, boy."

"Sir, yes, Sir." Timothy expressionlessly stated. His voice now identically resembled his father's - deep, rugged, and undoubtedly manly.

Tim's satisfactory smirk returned. "Perfection." He got up from his chair and walked up to his son. He softly caressed his son's newly chiseled jawline with his index finger, examining him like a freshly chiseled statue. He then looked directly into his son's eyes. "You may look empty, but I know you're still in there, Jr."

Timothy looked like he checked out long ago, but, in reality, he'd been watching from afar. Locked away in the empty darkness. Trapped in his own mind - a helpless observer. Forced to watch himself be converted into his father's likeness.

Tim maniacally grinned, once aging, gazing back down at the perfectly polished dress shoes his new and improved son was wearing. "You know what they say about big feet, Jr.: Big feet. Big meat."

"Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat." Timothy's inner voice droned. His crotch vibrated, swelling and growing. His already torn pants tore more as his cock released itself. He now had a thick, juicy member between his legs: just like his father - exactly like his father.

"Perfect!" Tim sat back down in his chair. He looked his son up and down once more, prideful in his work. "Now, you resemble me completely. However, the body must match the mind, Jr. My body. My mind."

"Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind." Timothy's inner voice droned. Suddenly, he has flooded with his father's interests and personality. Far back in the darkness, Timothy felt himself disappearing - not evaporating but sinking. Falling further into darker nothingness as his father's mind replaced his own.

"Sink, boy," Tim commanded. "Lose yourself to me. Feel yourself drain into your balls. Fill them. Swell them with your essence."

Timothy sunk further, now melting into his balls. Losing all sense of humanity as he morphed into thick, hot cum. Timothy's cock stiffened as his balls swelled with his old self. A small part of himself still hung on by a thread.

"Let go, boy," Tim commanded, his malicious grin beaming ear to ear.

Timothy's newly low-hanging swelled balls pulsed. The small part of Timothy that remained filled with dread, as he knew his time was soon up. His newly-thick member stiffened to an uncomfortable degree, ready to fire off at any moment.

"Cum!" Tim demanded.

With that came a massive load. What was left of Timothy's mind jettisoned out onto the floor. Timothy was now nothing but a sticky mess on the home office carpet. With a moan of gleeful satisfaction, Tim pressed his beautifully shaped, perfectly adorned foot into the puddle of his son's expelled essence. He wiggled his toes around, absorbing his son into his warm, sweaty dress socks - enriching the masculine scent of his godly size 12 feet. Timothy was gone. All that remained was Tim.

Made to Be Male

Brandi was thrilled when her custom "Made to Be Male" undies finally arrived. Unfortunately, to her disappointment, the front was a bit loose. The space was obviously made for a pair of cock and balls and she couldn't understand why? It wasn't as if she ordered male underwear by mistake. The brand is exclusively designed for women. There is no male option! How could they make such a glaring mistake?

Was it a mistake? But of course not. It wasn't made for Brandi, but Brandon.

Most people don't understand why a female underwear line is called "Made to Be Male" until they slip themselves into a pair. Its magical cotton transforms the feminine into 100% masculine perfection within moments. Before Brandi could put two and two together, her brain went from pink to blue. Her muscles swelled and bulged, her abs shredded, and she shot up almost an entire foot. Her breasts deflated and shifted into tight perky masculine pecs. Her hair shortened and a beard formed across her newly chiseled face.

Brandon was born and he was a man undeniably, with big feet and an even bigger cock! His sweaty, hairy pits reeked of a locker room, he was a man all right! What's Brandi's, I mean, Brandon's boyfriend gonna think when he gets home from work? Especially since Brandon is a top! Just thinking of his boyfriend's virgin hole is making Brandon horny with anticipation, ready to pounce and fuck!

hey im nonbinary and i havent shaved in a few days so my beard is coming in. my friends say i look better and my boyfriend says he thinks id make a hot man. can you help me embrace being a man and give me a body to match?

No problem, bro.

Not only will I give you the body, but the attitude to match: a cocky alpha who takes zero shit from anyone.

Not like anyone's gonna give you shit when you look like this, bro!

Just ask your boyfriend.

You show him no mercy in the bedroom, bro. That is if you're patient enough to even make it to the bedroom. Which isn't often, bro. But you can't help yourself, bro. It's all that primal alpha testosterone rushing through you, bro.

When you're not wrecking your boyfriend's hole, you're at the gym: your second home. You're a fearless beast addicted to the pump and grind of his workout, bro. You go till your arms are mush and you're drenched in sweat, like any true alpha beast.

You've even dropped the nonbinary label, bro. Can't blame you. You're an unmistakably 100% masculine man now, bro!!

For deleted posts and the NSFW stuff I can't post on here:

Happy Father's Day

To Luke's surprise, he got a Father's Day card in the mail. Being a 20-year-old gay twink who'd never done a thing with a woman, much less had a kid with one, it was clearly sent by mistake. He would've sent it back, but there was no return address. He considered tossing it, but the bizarre symbols marked meticulously around the card's borders piqued his curiosity. He flipped it open to unexpectedly find no name written.

Suddenly, a drop of blood trickled down the card. In shock, Luke discovered the card's sharp edges had given him a large paper cut across his right index finger. He didn't even feel it. His fresh wound then miraculously healed, as if by magic. In utter horror, he dropped the card, realizing his name was now it, written in his blood. The card was alive, and his fate was now sealed.

A sharp pain abruptly went up Luke's body, frightening him to hell and back. He's knees buckled, feeling all energy leave his body. He stumbled to the ground, feeling as if he could pass out. The room felt like it was spinning, shifting, and morphing. In seconds, he was out cold.

Luke awoke only a few minutes later. Confused, he looked around. He seemed to be in a completely different apartment. He felt like shit. Never, even after his worst bender, did he feel so bad. Oddly, as he stumbled to his feet, he felt heavier and taller.

"Are you okay, dad?" Luke suddenly heard a small voice say behind him. It was a kid, two of them. He stepped back, confused and disturbed as to why they resembled him. One of them then put out their hand, holding a crudely made card. "We made you a Father's Day card! Will that make you feel better?!"

"I, uh, um… Thank you." Luke didn't know what to say but the obvious. A cold chill went down his spine, taking the card from the small child. He then rushed to the bathroom as fast as he could. "I need to use the restroom real quick!"

Luke locked the bathroom door behind him and took a deep breath, trying not to panic. However, panic was all he could do when he finally saw his reflection in the mirror.

Luke was no longer a twink but a manly daddy. It was as if he jumped forward in time, looking like he was now in his late thirties. Family photos hung above the towel rake, his family: He, his wife, and their two kids. Luke didn't know what to do or feel, utterly frozen in disbelief. The only thing that remained from his previous life was the underwear he had on, stretched tight due to his new massive size. His gay life was over. His new straight life had just begun.