Wow! Im So Incredibly Grateful For My Early Christmas Present. I Woke Up This Morning To See That I Had

Wow! I’m so incredibly grateful for my early Christmas present. I woke up this morning to see that I had passed 1,000 followers!

I started this blog 3 months ago to write some transformation stories that I wanted to read, involving men and photos that I was attracted to. I’m so humbled that over 1,000 people read my little page of writing and decided that they wanted to see more. I plan on writing semi-consistently as I continue to find inspiration in anything I see!

Thank you all again for supporting me as I explore this creative outlet.

The Main Event

You always took a weekend to go to the nearby music festival on the beach every summer. It was always a blast. There were usually some good artists playing, sometimes a few minor celebrities: nothing too crazy. After a long, cold winter, you were ready for another good summer of live music and a little bit of drinking. However, it seems also though the vibe of the festival had been slightly changed this year.

Arriving at the beach, it was clear that something was different. There were thousands of people all huddled around the stage. Where there usually were some picnic tables or beach chairs there were crowds of people. There was no space to sit. On the stage in the distance was some DJ playing his set, and the area by the front of the stage was crowded with sweaty, intoxicated teenagers, trashing around wildly.

Although the energy was wildly different this year, you were still determined to find some way to have a good time. Resigned to the back of the crowd, you found an empty spot on the sand and sat down, allowing yourself to bask in the warmth of the sun. The morning had been cold when you got in your car to drive here and the forecast hadn’t called for so much sun, so you were dressed for colder temperatures. Your yellow chinos and white t-shirt reflected the sun's rays and seemed to be glowing in their own right. However, the brightness of your clothing didn’t prevent someone from stepping right into you and tumbling face-first into the sand.

Looking to your side, you saw an older man with a lanyard around his neck that said “Event Promoter”. He had managed to sit back up but he was wiping the sand from his eyes, aggressively trying to clear his vision.

Rushing to help the man back to his feet, you grabbed his hand. Almost instantly, you felt your mind empty. You had no more thoughts. You were fixated on this man. The man, having cleared the sand from his eyes, looked you up and down, and nodded. Still holding your hand firmly, he stood up and began guiding you through the crowd of energized people. The warmth of the bodies around you caused you to sweat profusely, but you didn’t care. This man was guiding you, and all you needed was to follow him. Approaching the front of the stage, the man separated with an aggressive shove two people open-mouthed kissing, before taking you around the side to the wings of the stage. Dripping with sweat, you stopped walking when the man turned around and held your face with his hands.

“You’re going to be the main event”

With those words, your eyes rolled toward the back of your head. You began panting heavily, trying to cool your body down. With each breath, your body swelled. Your chinos grew tight around your swelling ass and thighs. They grew taut and muscular, stretching those poor pants to the absolute limit. Your chest, as it heaved, began expanding into a shelf of raw muscle. Your abs pushed their way one at a time from your torso. Your shoulders stretched outward from your neck, ripping your shirt into pieces as it fell towards your feet. Your biceps swelled into mountains of muscle, veins snaking their way down your forearms, which thickened, and towards your now massive hands and fingers. Dark, sweaty hair swirled its way from the center of your chest, encircling your nipples and nestling its way into your armpits, which were dripping with your odor. The hair crawled down your chiseled abs towards your crotch, which pushed against your pants, swelling to an incredible size. The man took his hands off of your face and you looked down at yourself. You felt incredible. You looked incredible.

The man beamed at you, admiring your massive frame and admiring his handiwork. “Okay, Zac. Are you ready to give this crowd the greatest show they’ve ever seen?”

Staring back at the promoter, you nodded with a cocky grin and stepped out from the wings and onto the stage. As soon as the crowd caught sight of you, they went apeshit. Why wouldn’t they? You were an international superstar. You were the main event. You were Zac fucking Efron. They had all come to see you and your massive sexy muscles. Through the roar of the crowd, you could make out voices yelling at you to show off your muscles. Staring back into the crowd with all of those screaming, lustful faces, you smirked. So they want a show? You’ll give them exactly what they want.

Replacement Barista

It’s another chilly morning in Jericho. You were exploring your hometown in Vermont, feeling a sense of nostalgia as you walk down the familiar streets. You had recently moved back to Vermont after a few years of living in the city, in search of a simpler life and to be closer to family. You've been looking for a job, and you're determined to find one near your home.

Suddenly, your eyes spot something that you don't remember being here. A coffee shop, called the Weathervane, with a bright NOW HIRING sign displayed in the window on the door. Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to inquire about a job.

As you approach the counter, the barista greets you with a warm smile. They ask if you wanted to buy a coffee. You smile at the thought of you being so polite and amicable this early in the morning. You politely refuse their offer of a coffee and explain that you were interested in working there. You elaborate that you're specifically looking for a job that allows you to be a part of your community, and you were excited about the possibility of working in this coffee shop. With a smile, the barista hands you an apron, no questions asked. A little surprised that the barista didn't even ask you any questions about your experience or background or anything, you look back at them dumbfounded. They explain that they had recently lost their best barista and were looking for an immediate replacement. Holding the red fabric in your hand, you turn it over to see a name tag still on it: Tyler. Assuming that that was the previous owner of the apron who recently left, you dismiss your concerns, and bring it over your head and tie the strings around your back. 

As soon as you tighten the strings, you feel the breath shoot out from your lungs. You feel a strange, tingling sensation that takes over your body. Your vision blurs, and you feel lightheaded, as if you've suddenly lost your balance. It's a disorienting feeling, and you can't help but feel tense. Your heart races, and you're having trouble catching your breath. It's a feeling like you've never experienced before, and you can't quite put your finger on what's happening to you.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, and begin stumbling towards the back wall as the barista looks on at your disorientation, smiling. You use the wall to support your body as you find your way to the restroom and fumble with the handle. Pushing the door open, you fall forward and brace yourself on the edges of the sink. Your vision has started to clear and you look up at the mirror to reorient yourself, but you're shocked by what you see: the man in the mirror was not you.

Your face looks different, more handsome, and chiseled. You run your hands through your hair which was now adorned with thick curls. Your eyes had lightened into an intense green, with a heavy brow giving them a fierce look. Bringing your larger hands across your new face, you felt your smooth contours and your plump lips. You were hot. Your arms bulged against your shirt as they continued to explore your new body, which was taut with lean muscle. You were strong from lifting bags of coffee beans for the past few months. You had been working here since last summer. You loved the way this job allowed you to connect with the community and meet new people every day.

Feeling better from your sudden lightheadedness, you readjusted your apron, making sure that the “Tyler” on your name tag was clearly visible for everyone to see. You leave the bathroom, ready to continue with your shift.

Call Me By My Name: Timothée

You were sick and tired of always being pushed around. Your last relationship ended because they told you would never amount to anything. They had moved out of your apartment leaving you alone for the first time in many years. As much as you tried not to stew in your own sadness, you couldn't help but find yourself isolating in your empty home, trying to distract yourself with the reliable social media rabbit hole. You sat on your bed, scrolling through Facebook, until you saw an interesting ad.

"Become A Star"

The words in bold font permeated your mind. You had just ended a three year relationship. Your minimum-wage job in the office had good benefits, but it didn't seem like a permanent position. The idea of being a celebrity always did appeal to you: never having to try. You could sit around and maybe sing a song, film a movie, or take a picture every now and again. Seemed easy enough. You wished you had that easy life. No worries about money. People throwing themselves at you. You wanted that. Badly.

You clicked on the strange ad and your browser exited Facebook and opened a new tab. Suddenly, all your other windows and tabs were shut, leaving only the new tab. "Hey!" You yelled as you had some work documents unsaved. You tried to click away from the tab, which was still loading, only to find that your mouse would not move. Heading to the power button on your laptop, you reached to press it until the page loaded with just a text bar.

Annoyed that you had lost progress on your work, but still intrigued by this strange website you looked at this text bar. There was no context surrounding it. It was a black page with a white text bar. You remembered the ad: "Become A Star"

You took a deep breath and typed in the star that you most wanted to become.

Timothée Chalamet

Hesitating for a moment, you pressed enter. Nothing happened. Your computer shut off. Now you were angrier that the tab had closed, rather than the fact that it had opened in the first place. Slowly, you allowed yourself to rise from your bed, but as you stoop up, you became extremely light-headed. Stumbling about, you tried to place yourself back onto your bed, but missed and landed directly onto the floor, smashing your tailbone in the process. As you winced from the pain, a new feeling began to arise: pleasure.

You felt an orgasmic writhing from your toes. They began to stretch and elongate, each crack and pop sending waves off pleasure through your body. Curly black hairs began to carve their way across the top of your foot and onto the tops of your toes, as the pleasure became overwhelming. You laid down on the floor, your erection throbbing in your pants. As you continued to squirm from the pleasure, you lifted your head between gasps, to see that your new feet were donning grey Nikes. and some tube socks. You squished your new feet in the shoes, the socks were sweaty, feeling damp and moist. But you liked the feeling.

Your legs began to sprout, thin, yet dark curly hairs. Your calves toned, while your thighs thinned, leaving both halves with similar masses. The hairs began to weave their way up, encircling your crotch. Your shorts began to lighten and grew longer, becoming a pair of pink pants, almost reaching your smelly socks and shoes.

Your arms, too, lengthened, with your fingers becoming thin and almost dainty. Your biceps flexed with a new, strange power, as you felt the hair work its way into your armpits. Slowly, but surely, your armpits became a forest of curly, wet, dark hair. Your chest narrowed, and your stomach flattened, leaving your torso a sort of plank-like shape.

The pleasure grew as you felt your jaw clench. Your chin narrowed and your jawline grew defined. Thin, wispy hairs sprouted above your lip as your nose thinned. Your eyebrows darkened and thickened, weighing on your eyes, which were forced to close, only to reopen an intense green color. A tickling feeling began at the back of your neck as your hair began to darken and grow out into intense curls, framing your new face. You reached for a shirt, hoping that whatever was happening was over.

Just as you pulled a grey t-shirt over your thinned body, the orgasmic waves grew stronger and began to originate from your erection. You keeled over from the pleasure. You looked down at your pinked pants and saw your bulge growing and growing with each pulse. Each wave felt like it was pushing your penis further and further away from your body. Underneath, your pubic hair began to sprout thicker and thicker, weaving its way back into your crack. After what seemed like an eternity, one final wave pushed you over the edge, and you came into your pants, leaving a dark, sticky, wet mark. The pleasure was intense. You had never experienced anything like this before.

Still reeling, and still light-headed, now from the pleasure, you sat up.

The website had worked. You were now Timothée Chalamet. Now you were a celebrity. Now you didn't have to try for anything. The world would be handed to you because you were talented, attractive, and charming as hell. Overjoyed, you went to take a shower in your new body. As you undressed, you enjoyed the feeling of your thin body against the fabric. You slowly pulled your sticky pants down, with new waves of pleasure erupting as you felt it rub against your perky ass. You needed a moment to breathe; as amazing as that orgasm was, you need to focus now. Slowly, you resumed pulling off your now sweat-filled shirt. Fully nude, you walked towards the shower, ready to clean off.

As you showered, you ran your hands through your curled hair. You traced your jawline; felt the sharpness. You began to lather up with soap, and as you rubbed your butt, you began to feel a little curious. Slowly, you reached towards the hole, but as you crept closer, the pleasure began to hit you, and your new, bigger penis began to engorge itself once again. "God, he's always horny. I need to be careful of this." You thought to yourself. But that was a later issue. The shower was private time. You continued to play around with your new hole with one hand as the other fondled your penis. God, it felt amazing. This is the life of a celebrity; nothing but pleasure. Your strokes began to speed up as you felt yourself nearing another orgasm. As you finished, you couldn't believe that this was your new life.

Stepping out of the shower, you threw on the first things you could find in your closet that would fit. Ready, and impatient to start your new life, you stepped outside of your home. After walking on the street for only a few minutes, you heard the first scream from behind you: "Oh my god! It's Timothée Chalamet!" As you turned around to look at your fan, you began to crack a smile, knowing that this was going to be such a good life.

Live from New York

Standing in line to board your flight, you basked in the feeling of possibility. From here on out, anything could happen. After years of working minimum wage at Dairy Queen, you had finally saved enough money to move to New York City. You loved your small town in Iowa, but there was something magical about the Big Apple. There, you could start over and be somebody new. After high school, you wanted to go to college. Some prestigious university would've been your dream, like Harvard, Yale, or Fordham. You had the grades, but you couldn't afford to pay tuition. So you stayed. Luckily, the DQ was hiring, and you got decent pay. By no means were you living large, but you got by. Now, with enough money saved up, you bought a one-way ticket from Des Moines to JFK. You had reached out to a friend living in the city, and they agreed to let you stay with them for a little bit until you found a job and your own place. Armed with just your backpack filled with a couple hundred bucks, some clothes, and a dream, you boarded the flight.

Once you landed in Queens, you desperately navigated the terminal, trying to find your way to the E train into Manhattan. Finding the station, you waited patiently for the subway to arrive. Turning your backpack onto your stomach, you pulled it tightly into your torso. Everything you owned was in that bag, you couldn't bear to lose it. The roar of the approaching train filled your ears, and it skidded to a stop in front of you. The doors opened, and you found the car absolutely packed. You had never seen so many people in one place all at once. Forcing your way into the car, and finding a place to stand near the opposite door, you kept a close eye on the screen, waiting until the 5th Avenue and 53rd Street stop appeared. Then, as the subway stopped and the doors opened, you clutched your backpack and stepped onto the platform.

Exiting the station, you were engulfed by the sounds and sights of Midtown. Your friend lived in a small one-bedroom near 50th and 6th, right in the center of everything. Walking around, you found yourself enamored with the tall buildings and the busy people walking extremely fast. The route you were taking to your friend's apartment took you right past Rockefeller Plaza. Being the tourist you were, as soon as you passed the sign for NBC studios, you decided to pull your phone out of your backpack. Reaching in and then throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you looked up at the words. Growing up, you had seen this marquis on television, and now it was really here. Lifting up your camera, you snapped a photo.

Just as the shutter clicked, a man ran up from behind you and snatched your bag. "Hey!" you screamed. Without stopping, they continued to sprint and turned the corner before you even thought to run after them. Shit. Now what? Looking at the doors of the studio, you figured that they must have security cameras. They could help you. I mean, after all, everything you owned was in that bag. Stepping through the glass doors, you were astounded by the vast ceilings and smooth architecture. You were definitely in the big city.

Approaching the desk, before you could even open your mouth, the attendant looked up at you and gasped. "Sir, you're late, we need to get you upstairs now!" Before you even had the chance to respond, you were whisked away, being led towards an elevator. Shoving you into an elevator, the attendant mashed the button that said "8H." Looking dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to speak, but just as you did the doors shut and you began to ascend into the building.

This was weird, but hey, you had nothing else to lose. It's not like you were breaking in, you were put here. Once you got off the elevator, you would explain exactly what happened, and they would help you find security to figure out how to get your backpack back. As the elevator doors opened and you opened your mouth to speak, two female stylists rushed in and began ushering you through the hallways. The taller one began chastising you for running late as usual, without letting you get a word in. Giving up, you let them guide you into a dressing room. There, you were shoved into a seat. Finally, with the hustle and bustle finished, you finally had a chance to speak. "What's happening?" You managed to finally ask. The stylists looked at each other amused. Without saying a word, they reached towards your body and ripped off your clothes, leaving you nude apart from your underwear.

"Hey! What was that for?" You screamed at the pair. The shorter one explained. "We don't have time to take them off, Sir. Now hold still." The tall one pulled a white jar out of her bag, and the two began applying some sort of cream all over your chest. As the cream made contact with your skin, it began to heat up. As it did, firm muscles began pushing their way from your torso. Thick pecs formed a shelf and dark hair spread its way across them. The stylists massaged the cream into your arms, which flexed with new strength and were covered in that same hair. Your hands cracked as they grew large and manly. You were left with a thick beefy upper body.

The stylists massaged the cream into your feet, which grew and expanded, dark hairs emerging from the tops. After applying the cream to your calves, they stretched and ballooned as well. Your thighs were next, the short one was intensely working her hands around your thighs and shoved her hands under where you were seated. The cream made your legs thick and hairy, and your ass lifted you upwards on the chair. The short one continued to massage your thighs as the tall one applied the cream to your face. Your teeth whitened and your jawline sharpened. Your eyes lightened to a piercing blue. The tall one massaged your scalp, as your hair thickened and became immaculately styled, your head felt fuzzy. You remembered attending Harvard? No, you could never afford that. You were from rural Iowa. The shorter stylist lifted her hands from your thighs and pulled down your underwear, revealing your cock. Reapplying more cream to her palms, she began to massage your cock. Your head felt even fuzzier as the pleasure built up. You weren't from Iowa, you were from Staten Island. Your dick grew longer with each tug. You were married, and your wife loved your amazing body. The pleasure built up even more. Shit, everyone loved your amazing body. With one final tug, your thick cock shot out ropes of cum, and with it, every memory you had of your previous life. You lived in New York now.

The shorter stylist pulled out a towel and began to wipe your thick and muscled body clean, as the taller one grabbed your tailored suit off of the hanger. Standing up, you lifted your thick legs as the stylists pulled your pants on. You lifted your thick arms outward, exposing your forested armpits, as your dress shirt was brought onto your body. The two stylists buttoned you up. Lifting your arms again, you felt the fancy jacket pulled over you. Sitting down again, you were handed your tie. As you tied, the shorter stylist lifted your large feet into dress socks and placed them in your shoes. Once you finished tying your tie, you stood up, and without acknowledging the two women, you turned towards the door and began walking through the halls. You knew exactly where you were headed. As you reached the backstage area, a man placed your mic on your jacket. Finding your seat, you heard the intro music play. This was your job. The audience was applauding for you. You read your cue card.

"Welcome to Weekend Update, I'm Colin Jost."

Secret Reward

Jake was your everyday college student who stood at a petite 5'4" and as thin as a plank of wood. He was often bullied for being nerd due to his intense love for academics and passion for learning. Despite his small size, he was a force to be reckoned with when it comes to academics. He was taking a chemistry class which was required as a science credit in order to graduate, but the subject matter is proving to be a challenge for him.

However, in class, the professor announced that there would be a secret reward for the student with the highest grade on their final assignment. This news motivated Jake to work even harder and study even more intensely. He poured all of his effort into his studies, determined to earn that secret coveted prize. When the final grades were released, Jake was elated to see that he had received an A+. He had never been more proud of himself, and he couldn't wait to find out what the reward was.

As he walked up to his professor, A+ in hand, he asked what his prize would be. The teacher handed Jake a potion, telling him that it was a special mixture that would grant him one wish. Without hesitation, Jake wished to become an incredibly muscular football player. He had always dreamed of being on the football field, making amazing plays and thrilling the crowds.

As Jake drank the potion, he felt an intense energy coursing through his body. His muscles began to grow and bulge, starting with his biceps. They expanded and became defined, rippling with strength. Next, his chest began to transform, expanding and becoming wider, with well-defined pecs. His abs became chiseled and tight, creating a six-pack that was the envy of all who saw it. His abs tapered off towards his crotch which swelled with manliness as a deep odor emenated from his throbbing member.

Jake's legs became stronger and more muscular, with quads that bulged with power, squeezing his crotch, and sending waves of orgasmic pleasure through his body . He could feel the strength in his legs, and he knew that he would be able to run and jump like never before. His back became wider and more defined, with lats that tapered into a V-shape. He could feel the power in his back, and he knew that he would be able to make amazing plays and tackle with ease. Finally, his shoulders broadened, becoming wider and more defined. They were powerful and could deliver crushing hits on the field.

As the transformation completed, Jake had become an incredibly muscular football player, with a body that was strong, agile, and full of power. He was amazed by what had happened and couldn't wait to hit the field and show off his newfound abilities.

The chemistry professor smiled as he watched Jake. Not only was he the smartest kid in the school, but he was also the star quarterback. He is unstoppable.