Undercover Agent

Undercover Agent

Edgar had always been the quiet type, the kind of boy who preferred the company of books to people. His fascination with the FBI began in childhood, fueled by late-night spy movies and crime novels. Growing up in a small town, his dream of becoming an agent seemed distant and improbable, but Edgar's determination never wavered. He studied hard, earned top grades at an Ivy League, and applied for every opportunity that could bring him closer to his goal.

When he received the letter offering him an internship at the FBI office in Washington D.C., Edgar couldn't believe his luck. He packed his bags and left for the U.S. capital, filled with nervous excitement.

His first day was a whirlwind of introductions, security clearances, and overwhelming awe at the sheer scale of the operation. He was assigned to the administrative department, a role that felt both thrilling and mundane.

Edgar's days were filled with menial tasks: sorting files, delivering messages, and making coffee runs. Yet, every interaction with the agents and every glimpse into their work only deepened his resolve. He longed to be part of their world, to contribute to something meaningful. His unassuming nature meant he often went unnoticed, but he observed everything with keen interest.

One afternoon, as he was delivering a stack of files to a high-security area, Edgar noticed a door slightly ajar. The sign on the door read "Restricted Access: Authorized Personnel Only." His heart skipped a beat. What secrets lay behind that door? His curiosity was piqued. He looked around to make sure no one was watching and then slipped inside.

The room was dimly lit and filled with an array of scientific equipment. Beakers bubbled, machines hummed, and shelves were lined with vials of various colors. One vial, in particular, caught Edgar's eye. It was a luminous blue, glowing faintly in the low light. The label read "Project Chimera: Undercover Agent Enhancement."

Edgar’s curiosity overwhelmed him. He picked up the vial and turned it over in his hands, wondering what kind of enhancement it promised. He imagined himself as a capable, confident agent, ready to take on the world. The thought was intoxicating. Before he could talk himself out of it, Edgar uncorked the vial and drank it down.

The cool liquid had a faint taste of mint, and he swallowed it down in one gulp. At first, nothing happened, and he began to feel foolish for having taken such a reckless risk. Surely he would be fired after they found the empty vial. But then, a warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward like ripples in a pond.

Suddenly, he doubled over, clutching his stomach as a wave of energy surged through his body. It felt as though every cell in his body was being recharged, filling him with a power he had never known. His muscles began to tingle, then burn, as they expanded and hardened. He watched in awe as his biceps bulged, the fabric of his polo straining to contain his growing arms. His chest broadened as dark hair swirled around, pushing its way from the bursting buttons. Each breath he took caused his pectoral muscles to swell and push against the confines of his shirt, threatening to rip it completely from his torso.

His legs thickened with powerful new muscles. He felt his posture straighten, his spine elongating as his back muscles pulled him upright. The once baggy clothes he wore were now tight and restrictive, seams straining under the pressure of his rapidly expanding physique. He could feel his strength increasing with every passing second, the awkwardness of his former self melting away to reveal a body that looked like it belonged to a professional athlete or a comic book superhero.

His vision sharpened, and he instinctively reached up to remove his glasses. He no longer needed them; his eyesight was now perfect, every detail in the room coming into crystal-clear focus. Edgar stumbled to a mirror on the wall, hardly daring to believe what he might see. The reflection staring back at him was almost unrecognizable. The once scrawny intern had been replaced by a tall, muscular young man with chiseled features. His face had changed too—his jawline was stronger, more defined, and his eyes, now a piercing blue, seemed to sparkle with confidence.

Edgar flexed his new muscles, feeling a rush of exhilaration. His biceps, triceps, and deltoids rippled under his skin, each movement revealing the power contained within his new body. He ran his hands over his chest and abs, marveling at the firm, sculpted muscles that had replaced his once soft and unimpressive frame. He felt invincible, every ounce of self-doubt and insecurity evaporating in the face of his newfound strength and confidence.

As he continued to examine himself, the door to the laboratory swung open, and a female service agent walked in. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in shock. There was a strange man who had broken into the FBI office. Edgar turned to face her, his new features displaying a calm assurance he had never possessed before.

"It's me, Edgar," he said, his voice deeper and more resonant than he remembered. "I... I drank the serum."

The agent's shock slowly turned to suspicion as she studied him. "You know this is a serious breach of protocol, right?" she said, her tone stern but not unkind.

"Yes, ma'am. But maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe I can help," Edgar replied, feeling a newfound boldness and blinding arrogance.

She looked him up and down, then sighed. "We do have a situation. There's a drug ring operating out of the Alpha Epsilon Pi frat at Georgetown, and we need someone to go undercover. They'd never suspect a new guy like you."

Edgar felt a thrill of excitement. He had the chance to prove himself, to show that he was more than just an intern. Now he was an undercover agent.

The Sweat Guy

You had always struggled with excessive sweating, a condition that had plagued you since puberty. It wasn't just the usual places like underarms; every nook and cranny of your body seemed to turn into a faucet, drenching your clothes and filling your personal space with an unwanted odor. It was an embarrassing and frustrating problem that you constantly battled, with little success. The sweat seemed to have a mind of its own, ruining your shirts and making you self-conscious in social situations.

One day, as if your phone could read your mind, an ad popped up while you were scrolling. It was for a new line of antiperspirants, promising comprehensive coverage for all the sweaty areas of the body. The ad seemed too good to be true, but desperation had a way of making you willing to try anything. The thought of a solution that addressed not just your underarms but also areas like your feet, face, thighs, and even groin was tantalizing. You quickly searched for the nearest pharmacy and, grabbing your bag, set off with a determined stride.

The walk to the pharmacy was typical for you—by the time you arrived, you were already sweating heavily. The summer heat didn’t help, but the thought of finally finding relief kept you motivated. In the store, you found the products from the ad and eagerly grabbed the whole set. The price was surprisingly affordable, which felt like a small victory in itself. You clutched the bag of products like a treasure trove, imagining a future where you wouldn’t have to worry about sweat ruining your clothes or your chances with girls.

The idea that there could be antiperspirants for areas you hadn't even considered gave you a sense of hope. You had never imagined such a comprehensive solution existed, and the possibility of being sweat-free was exhilarating. You started the journey back to your apartment, feeling lighter and more optimistic. The thought of finally being able to meet people without the nagging fear of sweating through your clothes was almost too good to be true. As you walked, you couldn't help but smile at the prospect of a fresher, more comfortable future, with all your new goodies in tow.

Once you arrived home, you spared no time in going to the bathroom to apply each and every product. Opening the underarm product, you gave it a sniff. It smelled heavenly. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let the scent waft up through your nostrils, intoxicating you. Delirious from the scent, you lifted up your arms and rubbed the antiperspirant in your armpits, not noticing as the hairs grew longer and thicker, but also dried up, with years of stench dissipating.

The thick hair snaked its way onto your arms and down onto your hands, each finger growing thicker and longer, with your palm widening as it clutched the antiperspirant. The stick of product now looked comically small in your manly hand. Your chest swelled and pushed against your t-shirt while thick tufts of hair swirled around your nipples and filled out the center of your chest, enveloping your torso, which hardened with lean muscles.

Still in a daze, you grabbed the thigh cream, rubbing it all over your legs, which too dried up, but thickened with muscles and a forest of hair.

That’s a lot of hair… you hadn’t ever thought of yourself as hairy…

You dropped to the floor, your hands seemingly moving by themselves. The foot cream felt cool and smooth as you applied it to your damp, sweaty feet, massaging it into the skin with firm, deliberate strokes. As the lotion absorbed into your soles, thick, coarse hairs started to sprout from the tops of your toes and the tops of your feet, quickly spreading until they were covered in a dense forest of hair. You brought your feet up to your face, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was as intoxicating and invigorating as the scent of your armpits.

You placed your now-manly hands on the bathroom vanity. The muscles in your arms and chest rippled as you lifted your bulking frame up and toward the mirror. You grabbed the face cream and rubbed it all over your face. You felt a tingling sensation as thick stubble rapidly sprouted, covering your cheeks and chin with a rugged beard and mustache. Your vision blurred, adding to the already overwhelming scent-induced delirium. The world around you seemed to sway and warp, but you reached out instinctively, feeling around the side of the sink until your fingers found your glasses. Sliding them onto your face, the lenses helped bring the world back into focus.

Had you needed glasses before?

Still enveloped in a dense fog of scent and sensation, you fumbled for the groin cream, your movements slow and deliberate. You threw your pants down around your ankles, exposing your hairy legs to the cool air. As you applied the cream to your manhood, an intense warmth spread through you, almost like a gentle hand cradling and massaging you. The sensation was deeply comforting, creating a feeling of intimacy and care that was both strange and overwhelmingly pleasurable. The brain fog thickened, clouding your thoughts and senses, making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each breath you took seemed to deepen your trance, making it harder to stay upright. Your legs felt weak, as if they could give way at any moment. Yet, somehow, you managed to reach down and pull your pants back up, fumbling with the zipper as your hands quivered. You reached out for support, gripping the door frame with a firm hand, and began making your way through the house. Leaning against the walls for balance, you moved slowly, each step requiring a monumental effort. The strange desire to get outside, to feel the fresh air and test the antiperspirant, drove you forward.

You made it no more than ten feet before the effects of the groin cream intensified dramatically. It was as if all the sweat your body had ever produced was being expelled through your manhood in one overwhelming rush. The sensation was blinding, a searing wave of heat and pleasure that spread from your groin to every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed and your skin tingled, as if electricity were coursing through your veins. Hair shot out around your groin, leaving you with a massive bush that provided a cushion inside of your underpants. The intensity of the pleasure contorted your face into an expression of pure ecstasy, a mix of surprise and delight at the overwhelming physical sensation.

The rush of endorphins surged through your masculine body, a flood of pleasure and euphoria that seemed to reach every fiber of your being. Your once-smooth skin was now covered in a thick layer of hair, and your muscles felt firm and powerful. The sweet, intoxicating scent that clung to you. As the pleasure surged through your system, your mind seemed to shift. Memories of your previous life, filled with embarrassment and discomfort due to excessive sweating, faded into obscurity. You were the Sweat Guy.

One final burst left you breathless and drained. The sensation was so overwhelming that your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the ground, your body unable to handle the intensity of the transformation. Darkness enveloped you, and you blacked out, lying on the floor in a state of exhausted satisfaction.

When you awoke, you blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented but surprisingly calm.  Pushing yourself off the floor, you walked back to the bathroom, where you had left the products you had spent so many years perfecting.

Heading back to the kitchen with antiperspirants in hand, you grabbed your keys off of the counter. You were headed to a video shoot for the company's social media. After all, you were the Sweat Guy, and you wanted to make sure that everyone knew just how life-changing these products are.

Hollywood Magic

In the bustling backstage of the prestigious Oscars ceremony, nerves were running high. Among the frenzy of stagehands, makeup artists, and celebrities, stood Alex, a wide-eyed production assistant fresh out of film school. It was his first gig at such a grand event, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had bought a fresh tuxedo for the event and felt professional and ready to start his new career.

Throughout the evening, Alex darted from one task to another, ensuring everything ran like clockwork. He meticulously checked seating arrangements, coordinated with the stage crew, and even fetched coffee for the stars. Despite the chaos around him, Alex felt a surge of exhilaration with each passing moment, relishing the special opportunity to be a part of Hollywood's biggest night.

But as the ceremony progressed smoothly, tension began to mount backstage when one of the scheduled presenters failed to show up for their award presentation. Panic swept through the crowded corridors as frantic whispers filled the air. Producers frantically made calls to find a replacement, but everyone was either unavailable or unwilling to present. With no one else available at such short notice, all eyes turned to Alex.

Without warning, an envelope was thrust into his hands, and he was ushered onto the stage. His heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation. This was his moment—a chance to step onto the grand stage of the Oscars and make his mark in the entertainment industry. Usually, the honor was only reserved for the most iconic of stars: how lucky he was to be just an average Joe, given an opportunity rarely afforded to even some of the most famous celebrities. As Alex approached the microphone, the weight of the moment bore down on him like a heavy cloak. The sea of faces in the audience blurred as his nerves threatened to overwhelm him.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he felt an inexplicable surge of warmth coursing through his body. At first, he thought it must be from the stage lights, but it grew stronger and more electrifying. It started as a subtle tingling but soon evolved into an intense sensation, like a thousand needles pricking his skin.

His muscles tensed and bulged beneath his clothes, a strange pressure building within him. Alex's eyes widened in shock as he felt the fabric of his brand-new suit strain against his expanding frame. The audience's murmurs of anticipation turned into gasps of surprise as they witnessed the spectacle unfolding before them. First, it was his arms, as if sculpted from marble, that began to swell with newfound strength. His biceps and triceps rippled beneath the fabric of his shirt, stretching it to its limits, and eventually ripping his sleeves. Then, his chest expanded, pushing against the material as if eager to break free. Each breath seemed to inflate his torso further, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

As Alex's transformation continued, his shoulders broadened, each muscle defined with chiseled precision. His back rippled with power, the fabric of his shirt straining against the force of his expanding physique. Even his legs, once hidden beneath his trousers, began to bulge with raw strength, threatening to burst through the fabric at any moment.

Despite his best efforts to resist, Alex couldn't help but flex his muscles, which expanded and tore free from the confines of his shirt and jacket, a mixture of embarrassment and pride washing over him as he unwittingly showed off his newfound form to the world. The audience's laughter only fueled his humiliation, but still, he couldn't stop himself.

With each involuntary flex, Alex's body seemed to take on a life of its own, moving with a grace and power that he had never known. His embarrassment gave way to a sense of awe as he marveled at the sheer magnitude of his transformation. But just as he began to revel in his newfound strength, disaster struck. With a sudden rip, the fabric of his pants gave way, leaving him standing on stage in the nude. His cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment as he hastily covered himself with the envelope he had been given to present the award.

Standing there dumbfounded and twice his previous size, he heard an announcer on the speakers: “And now, presenting the Academy Award for Best Costume Design, the one, the only: John Cena!”

Lovin' It

Under the soft hum of his local McDonald’s fluorescent lights, Thomas found himself enveloped in the solitude of his closing duties. The 18-year-old’s body bore the signs of fatigue, with slouched shoulders and tired eyes, a testament to his disdain for the job he felt trapped in. Back in high school, he had dreams of going to college and studying engineering, and even though he had the grades to get into a top school, financial constraints left him with no choice but to enter the workforce straight away. No one else would hire him straight out of school with no experience, so he applied to McDonald's, where he started working full-time.

Thomas was a tall and lanky young man, with unkempt brown hair and a perpetual frown etched on his face. He disliked his job intensely, feeling it was beneath him and a constant reminder of the opportunities he had missed out on due to financial stress. The smell of fries and grease had become nauseating, and the endless drone of customer orders through the headset made his head throb every day that he returned home, only for the cycle to continue the next morning.

The rain outside played a sorrowful melody, as he methodically scrubbed the grills, making them gleam and sparkle with cleanliness, wiped down the sticky countertops, counted the till with utmost precision, as a single missing dollar would be a write-up, mopped the lobby floors until they reflected the overhead lights, and cleaned the restrooms until they were spotless. He moved with a mechanical precision born from routine, albeit begrudgingly.

His final task before he had the pleasure of clocking out for the day and heading home for a dinner of a frozen pizza led him to the storage area, where the sight of a crumpled clown costume on the floor caught his attention.

It hadn't been there when he had been working earlier, so he wasn't sure what to think. Maybe it was a new promotional gimmick for the upcoming sales period and had just fallen out of one of the many boxes that get carried through the back on a regular basis. Reaching down to pick it up and fold it onto one of the shelves, Thomas' finger grazed the soft fabric. As he touched the strange outfit, he was engulfed by a warm and pleasurable sensation as his consciousness faded away.

As Thomas lay on the dirty stockroom floor, he began to undergo a transformation. His feet began to swell and grow, the bones stretching and reshaping to accommodate the oversized proportions of a clown’s shoes. The sensation was oddly satisfying, like a stretch after a long rest, leaving a tingling pleasure in its wake.

His skin was the next to change, the tan of his complexion fading into a luminescent white. It spread up his legs and over his torso in a wave of warmth, each inch of skin it touched tingling with the pleasure of transformation. His brown hair, untamed and messy, shifted into a brilliant red, growing longer and silkier, adding to the overall euphoria.

Thomas' facial features subtly shifted and molded into a new form. His nose rounded out and took on a bright red hue, his mouth stretched into a wide, perpetual smile, painted with vibrant red, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with newfound joy. The transformation was thorough, leaving no part of him untouched.

As the last remnants of unconsciousness faded and he awoke from his euphoric stupor, Thomas felt an odd sensation around his feet. Lying on his back on the cold floor, he lifted his head slightly, only to catch sight of two enormous, brightly colored shoes protruding from the ends of his legs. He blinked, trying to understand the surreal sight before him.

The shoes were massive, a vivid mix of red and yellow, the classic Ronald McDonald design. Panic raced through Thomas' mind, a series of frantic questions pounding in his head. Why were his feet so huge? What had happened to him?

Still in disbelief, Thomas slowly wiggled his toes, expecting to feel a spacious void within the oversized shoes. But to his astonishment, he felt resistance. The shoes weren't merely on his feet; his feet filled them perfectly, contouring and shifting with every subtle movement of his toes. The sensation was strange yet oddly comforting. The shoes felt like they were made just for him.

His heart raced as he tried to piece together the bizarre puzzle. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Thomas took a more detailed look at his transformed body. His once tan skin was now a striking shade of porcelain white, and as he lifted a hand to touch his face, he felt the unmistakable texture of clown makeup.

Realization slowly dawned on him. He wasn't just wearing a clown costume; he had become the clown. The memories, the emotions, the very essence of Ronald McDonald began to flood his mind, merging seamlessly with Thomas' own memories and experiences.

He ran out of the store, and into the night, laughter bubbling from his lips as he embraced his new identity. He was no longer bound by the confines of his old life; he was no longer Thomas. He was Ronald McDonald, and he was free to be happy, to spread joy, and to live life as the happiest clown on earth.

He was lovin' it.

Heartstopping Tank Top

You had always been a skinny guy. Growing up, people often made fun of you for how little you seemed to look. During your spring semester of junior year of college, you decided to study abroad in London. You had a job lifeguarding in the summer, and you wanted to make sure you were in good physical condition and looked good for the girls at the pool. You made a promise to yourself that you would return to the U.S. with a more muscular physique. 

So, you found a gym near your dorm and went to sign up. After singing some forms and paying for a day pass, the attendant at the front desk handed you a large white tank top and said, “Oy, this’ll help you grow into a real muscle lad”.

You shrugged it off as a harmless sales pitch and went to the locker room to put on the tank top. It was way too large, but the attendant seemed really enthusiastic about you wearing it, and you didn’t want to be rude to someone in a foreign country, so you decided to stick it out and start your workout.

Exiting the locker room, you made a bee-line for the first open machine you saw. After reading the graphics and demonstrations on the metal, you sat down and began your workout. It felt… surprisingly great! You could get used to this! With each machine you went to, you felt a strange sensation pulsating from your tank top. Unbeknownst to you, they seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate, much faster than should be naturally possible, stretching and bulging under your skin. 

Your arms were the first to change. Your once skinny biceps and triceps began to thicken and expand, stretching the arms of your tank top with bulging muscles. As you flexed, you could see the new definition in your arms, and your veins popped out from under your skin.

Your chest was the next area to change. You pecs began to swell and harden, pushing out from your ribcage with an impressive mass. Your nipples stood out like little knobs atop your chest, and you could feel the fibers of your muscles contracting with every heavy breath you took. Hair began to push its way from your pecs and swirled its way into your armpits, which were moist from your intense workout.

Your back muscles were the next to grow. As you pulled down on the lat pulldown machine, you could feel your lats expanding like wings on your back. You could feel as your spinal erectors bulged out, creating a column of muscle that ran down your spine, widening your torso and giving you immense bulk.

Your abdominal muscles became chiseled, with each muscle fiber becoming visible through your top. Your six-pack was now a washboard, and your obliques became well-defined ridges.

Your legs swelled too, with your quads becoming massive and your hamstrings bulking up. Your glutes expanded into globes of muscle, stretching your gym shorts. Your calves became rock hard, with the muscles contracting and relaxing with every step you took.

As you continued to work out, your hair began to lighten, and your facial features began to change. Your jawline became more pronounced, and your face became wider. Your eyes turned an intense hazel, and your skin took on a healthy glow. You had become someone… new.

Dropping the weights, you looked into the mirror, and you recognized exactly who you were. You were Kit Connor. You had never been an American. You had worked hard for these big muscles and your successful career. You had always been Kit Connor. You flexed your new massive muscles in the mirror, admiring your physique.

With your British accent, you mused “I am one fit lad.” You turned back to the mirror and posed for your Instagram. In no time, you're sure it'll be filled with a bunch of gay lads trying to get your attention... just how you liked it.

Insert to Grow

Tim was walking to get his weekly groceries when he stumbled upon a strange store in his local strip mall. It was a small, dark store that he had never seen before, with a sign that simply read Curiosities in bold letters. Intrigued, he decided to stop by before he got to the supermarket to step inside and take a look around.

Tim couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as he walked through the dimly lit aisles. The store was filled with oddities and peculiar items, from strange trinkets to bizarre gadgets. But one item caught his eye in particular - a small device that looked like almost like a butt-plug. Intrigued, Tim picked up the device and examined it closely. It seemed to be well-made, with a sleek design and a label that simply said Grow. The packaging boasted advanced technology that promised to stimulate, all you had to do was insert to grow. Being a single guy, he didn’t mind the idea of having some extra help getting off, rather than only using his hand. After some hesitation, he decided to purchase the device and take it home.

Once he arrived home, Tim immediately went to the bathroom to try out the device. He locked the door behind him and turned on the device, feeling a slight vibration in his hand. Pulling down his pants, he reached behind him and brought the device to his butt, and the vibrations grew stronger and more intense. He wasn't sure what to expect, but the sensation was oddly satisfying. 

However, the vibrations suddenly intensified and caught Tim off guard. He stumbled and slipped, falling forward onto the stool in the bathroom, and the device penetrated him. He tried to reach for it to pull it out and turn off the device, but it seemed to have entered him so deeply that he couldn’t reach it. Tim's body started to shake uncontrollably. He was terrified and tried to calm himself down, but it was too late. His mind was foggy with pleasure: the device had taken over, and Tim could feel his old self slipping away.

As the vibrations continued to course through his body, Tim's muscles began to explode with strength and mass with every shake. His biceps swelled with bulging veins, and his forearms thickened as if he had been lifting weights for years. His chest expanded, and his pecs grew into a solid mass that jutted out from his chest like armor, ripping apart his shirt as it fell to tatters beside him.

Tim felt a strange sensation in his abdomen. It was like a fire burning deep within his core, and he could feel his abs contracting and expanding with each pulse. He looked down and saw his stomach rippling and bulging, as if something were moving just beneath the surface. With each passing moment, his abs grew thicker and more defined. They bulged out from his stomach like a six-pack of cobblestones, and he could see each muscle fiber twitching and contracting beneath his skin.

Tim could feel his thighs thickening, and his calves grew into sculpted pillars of muscle. His shoulders broadened, and his traps grew into a massive hump that seemed to swallow up his neck. He could feel his back arching, and his spine seemed to stretch as if his body was struggling to contain all the new muscles.

As Tim's body continued to vibrate with increasing intensity, he realized that his shoes were getting tighter and tighter until they could no longer contain his rapidly expanding feet, ripping apart beneath him. As his feet continued to grow, he began to kick and flail across the tiled floor, trying to get a foothold, but he couldn't find any traction. His feet were now too big, too sweaty, and too slippery to get a grip on the smooth surface. They were massive, almost cartoonishly large. His toes curled and flexed uncontrollably, and he could feel the sweat pouring off his feet, creating a puddle on the floor beneath him. The smell was overpowering - a pungent, musky odor that filled the bathroom and made Tim gag. It was a mix of sweat, dirt, and something else, something primal and animalistic. 

As the transformation continued, Tim could feel a strange itch all over his body. He looked down and was shocked to see thick tufts of hair sprouting from his skin. It started on his chest and back, but soon hair was growing everywhere, even on his arms and legs. He felt his face changing, and his once-smooth skin was now rough and covered in thick hair.

Tim's mouth hung open as he struggled to breathe. His heart was pounding, and his breathing became labored as his body underwent a complete physical transformation. The vibrations shook his body so violently that he could barely stand, and his vision became blurry as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Finally, the vibrations began to subside, and Tim was left standing in the bathroom, his body trembling and covered in sweat. He looked in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw:

He was fucking gorgeous. His lips plump and beautiful, and a smolder to die for. His facial hair was perfectly trimmed and his eyes were soft and inviting. His face was unbelievable... but his body..?!

He couldn't believe the sheer size and mass of his new muscular body, and he couldn't help but admire the way his pecs bulged and his biceps swelled. He flexed his arms and watched as the muscles rippled beneath his skin. He turned to the side and admired the way his abs rippled and bulged with each movement. It was like he was looking at a completely different person, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the new body he had been given.

But suddenly, a massive headache hit him like a ton of bricks. It was like a sledgehammer had slammed into his skull, and with each pulse, he felt his mind growing duller and more sluggish. His thoughts became slow and confused, and he couldn't concentrate on anything except the throbbing pain in his head.

As the headache intensified, Tim's mind grew more and more muddled, and he could feel his intelligence slipping away. His vocabulary became limited to basic words, and he struggled to put together even the simplest of sentences. All he could do was flex his massive muscles and drool uncontrollably. He looked back in the mirror and realized he had become a completely different person. The intelligent, thoughtful Tim was gone, replaced by a hulking, drooling man with a body that defied belief. He tried to focus and think of a way to reverse the transformation, but his mind was too dull and confused to devise a plan.

All Tim could do was stand there, flexing his muscles and drooling uncontrollably. The device had given him the body of a god, but it had also taken away his intelligence and sense of self. He was a dumb, mindless hunk of muscle and just another piece of eye candy for some lucky man to have the pleasure of calling his trophy husband.