Hi I Would Love If You Could Transform Me Into Your Stupid Foot Slave.
hi i would love if you could transform me into your stupid foot slave.
Clean Slate
âWhat do you want to be in life?â I ask you as we relax at my place at the end of our date. You give a rather non committal shrug as I peel off my socks and rest my feet on the living room table.
âHuh. No career ambitions? Artist, scientistâŚcleaner?â I smile at you as you approach and sit across from me, scrunching your nose slightly while the scent of my feet wafts over to you.
âNâno. I guess not.â You reply sheepishly, your eyes leaving mine as they lower to my large feet.

âIâm sure we can find your place in life. You probably have lots to give. Talented at many things. Such asâŚcleaning.â I sway my feet back and forth on the table as I watch your eyes follow them. âJust keep watching.â
âHuh?â Distracted, you donât even look away. My feet and their movements were utterly fascinating. âIâI donâtâŚâ
âCleaning.â I repeat bluntly. âI bet youâre good at cleaning.â Your back bends as you naturally feel yourself lean forward, your head lowering slightly as my feet take up more of your vision. I hear you take a tentative sniff, your eyes glazing over.
Cleaning.
âClâcleeaning.â You slur as a bit of drool slides from your mouth. I give a little snicker as I witness you lick your lips. Your head begins to sway along with my hypnotic sweaty feet. Mirroring itâs motion. The smell at this point was incredibly overpowering, burning away your feeble inhibitions. My feet are fucking your mind, my toes pushing to the back of your skull. Reshaping your soft brain like playdoh. Back and forth. Back and forthâŚ

âSee, Iâm not so much looking for a âboyfriendâ. Too much maintenance. But Iâm sure we can find a use for you. Cleaning clothes perhaps? Maybe bathroom cleaning? No. CleaningâŚfeet.â I look down and validate you with a smirk.
Cleaning. Feet.
âFoot cleaning. Yes, yes I think thatâs your place in life. A mindless foot cleaner. Cleaning my rank feet. Youâre very skilled at it.â I assert, placing my hand on your head and guiding you closer. âItâs okay. Some of us are meant to improve the world, some of us are meant to be productive members of society. And some of us, some of us are meant to lick the space between menâs toes.â
âIâŚno. Please.â You plead as your face enters my feetâs gravitational pull. The musk flowing up your nose and swimming around your emptied, foot fucked mind. They smelled just as you suspected they would, of feet. Your attention is captivated by a bead of sweat on my sole. It didnât belong there, there on my perfect feet. You feel an impulse growing. A need. You needed toâŚneeded toâŚ
âClean.â I answer for you. Making everything suddenly fall into place. It just made sense. âClean my stinky feet.â
You shudder, any hint of resistance fading in an instant. Your mouth obediently opens and your tongue glides down the length of my sole, picking up all the sweat and grime that gathered from our long walk. The taste is sour and foul but for some shameful reason, that stirs your cock. You didnât want this, but not wanting it made you so unbelievably hard. My feet had successfully hypnotised your mind, conditioning you to kneel at the mere sight of them. Seeing my sole was the only trigger needed for your mouth to water, for your thoughts to dissipate. For you to become no more than a rag to wipe my feet clean.
âAlways glad to see someone enjoy their job so immensely.â I bend forward and pin a little badge to your shirt. The two words printed on it in basic typeface describe your entire existence âFoot Cleanerâ. Now no one, including you would be confused about your role in life.
âCweeann siiir.â You moan with a mouth full of my flavourful foot cheese.
I laugh above you, flexing my arms as you perform your job. âGood boy. Good foot cleaner. Lick every inch until theyâre glistening with your saliva. Arenât you happy I helped you find the height of your aspirations at the bottom of my feet. Dumb idiot.â
âYusss, thank you sir.â You wanted to be a good obedient boy for master.
âShut up and work.â I shove my feet into you, rubbing them across your face. âI expect my feet to be spotless slave. You will be here every evening from now on to fulfil your duty. And then you will pay me for the privilege like the pathetic foot slut that you are.â
Do I make myself clear?

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More Posts from Mainblogyy

He was doing the photoshoot for a friend. The photographer was nice when they talked over texts and the few phone calls they had. It made him feel not as nervous about the photoshoot. He had never done anything like this before, so he anxious, but also excited.
He knew he didn't have the model looks, but he also knew he wasn't unattractive.
'This could be a fun little experience.' He tells himself as he walks into the photographer's studio.
The two men make small talk as he's told to dress in the attire the photographer picked out for him. He was a little confused since they hadn't mentioned anything about him needing to change his wardrobe. As far as he knew, this was just supposed to be a non-professional sort of thing.
He doesn't protest, though, since the outfit wasn't anything crazy. Just simple grey pants and a button-down shirt. Although as he dressed up he noticed how the clothing was a few sizes too big for him. He says as much, but the photographer tells him it's fine.
"I'll make some edits if need be." He says.
With that, he finishes getting dressed and walks over to the backdrop that was set up.
"Okay, give me a nice big smile."
"That's it!"
"You're doing great!"
"Hold the pose. Perfect!"
Each praises and click of the camera stirs something in the young man. His anxiousness just evaporated. He grew more confident, seeming like he had done this many times before. The clothing that was a little baggy on him starts to fit around his growing body. The young man's lean body frame gaining in size with the amount of muscle he was gaining after each photo was taken.
His face that was clean shaven before itches while black hairs sprout along his sharpening jawline. He rubs a hand over his new beard, shuddering over how good it felt under his touch. While he grew more muscular, the young man lost a few inches in his height. Making him a little under average with his height.
To close off the photo shoot, he does his favored and signature pose. Grinning at the compliments, the photographer gives him. With th photoshoot concluded so too was the young man's old self. Now, he was a confident, more attractive model. Eager for his followers to see these new photos of him.
How else you gonna get your friend to join?
"Hey man the fuck did you bring me out here."
"For this fucker huff it!"
"Mmm mmmpf the fu-mmpf!"

"Shhhh man just let my fat nut sweat smother ya and take over man. That's it."
"-gags- fuck man what was that!"
"How do you feel man heh?"
"You- damn I feel good. Shit your nuts smell got me all uff. Mmmpf damn I'm horny so horny ah."
"Thats it just let it happen. I really smothered your lips with pre, and sweat glazed infected fat sack. That brain of yours will get buzzed in no time."
"You were infected?"
"Hell yeah, let it happen too. Let the guy shoot into my cockhole and fill my nuts. Now you got it too. So buckle up. Cause my new nuts are buzzing."
"M-my face. I'm growing a-a beard and the smell its- oh. It's oh its its goooood ugh."
"Mmmhmmmm there we go. Here let me coat my hand more. I'm gonna smother you, glaze you like pig."
"You- Your pre and nut stink are m-making my brain fuzzy and drooling and mmmmpf!"
"OH it's gonna be more than that. You ain't just marked now, I'm gonna now turn ya. Now breath, and swallow."
Out To Pasteurize

Calvin learns the side effects of Bro-science first hand after accidentally drinking some Raw Milk.
Read some real mind numbing takes about drinking unpasteurized milk and here we are! Hope you enjoy, in other news Iâm going to throw up the post announcing the Viral Transformation participants soon! -Occam

Having been priced out by rising rent at his old place Calvin was in quite the pickle. Fate smiles upon him however as his sisterâs ex, Derrick, is in sudden need of a new roommate. They run in quite different circles, Calvin the sort to stay in and read while Derrick probably has more hours at the gym than some people spend awake. Though as heâs lacking any other options Calvin is more than happy to move in with the jock. Time spent working out is time out of the apartment and Calvin has always enjoyed as much personal space as he could get.
As hoped, the living situation is not too bad at all. Derrick stays out of Calvinâs hair and he has more than enough time and space to work from home. There are few better relationships between two diametrically opposed people than one with only incidental interaction. Their lives together are not to continue without a hitch however as one unfortunate morning Calvin runs out of coffee creamer and rather than just drinking it black he decides to sneak some of Derrickâs unlabelled milk.
He shrugs as heâs sure his roommate wouldnât mind, theyâre quite amiable and Derrickâs always offering him protein powder and trying to get him into the gym, spotting him some milk is surely equivalent. Hearing his roommateâs bedroom door open he quickly pours a bit more than he meant to into his cup in a rush to get the bottle back into the fridge surreptitiously. Sure, Derrick wouldnât mind but Calvin would prefer to not have any interaction on the matter if possible. He stirs in the milk and grimaces as it brightens his coffee to a far lighter shade than he typically prefers.
Derrick wanders into the living room, still halfway pulling up his shorts before stretching as he prepares for his favorite only pastime. Calvin smirks behind his mug at pulling off the pettiest larceny one can imagine before he takes a large gulp of his coffee. As soon as it hits his tongue Calvin is struck with a taste incredibly vile, and yet one that demands he drink more. As such he is torn between spitting up and forcing it down. In the end heâs just able to swallow it before the aftertaste of milk sour and spoiled spreads through his mouth. Regretting his decision he begins gagging. Seeing this Derrick quickly runs over shouting in concern.
âYo bro! You good!? Do you, uhh, should I call for help!?â He stands behind and puts his massive arms around Calvinâs torso, preparing to do whatever he thinks the heimlich maneuver is. Feeling the warm body behind him as steam rises off his smooth, slowly swirling, mug of coffee Calvin pauses as he realizes in the commotion the taste is gone from his mouth. He feels the hot coffee settle in his stomach and at just that moment he is overwhelmed with a creamy sweetness unimaginable. Inches away from breaking one of the smaller manâs ribs Derrick feels his body stop struggling and go limp with a small groan, âUhhh ye- yeah? Iâm okay. Iâm good.â His hands go to his head as he feels the tinges of a headache begin to come on, involuntarily he licks his lips and his eyes dart back to the mug.
Derrick backs away and returns to the other side of their kitchen island, his eyes still painted with concern and adrenaline making his hands slightly shaky, âPromise youâre good bro?â Calvin nods as he far too quickly convinces himself that that rotten taste must have been in his head. He just wasnât expecting the milk to make his coffee taste so good, yeah. Thatâs it. He takes a second sip and lets it sit in his mouth, as he tries to make out the taste. It almost seems thicker than heavy cream he thinks, coating his teeth in a thin film as he swishes it around before swallowing. Calvin pauses and bites his lip before deciding to just level and ask what kind of milk it is as the desire to use it again later begins to stew. âHey I, uh, hope you donât mind Derrick but I used your milk for creamer.âÂ
Concern immediately vacates his roommateâs eyes as they grow wide in shock, he opens his mouth to respond but clearly the slow-turning gears in his head canât quite decide what to say. Not even an Uhh spills out as he stands there. Seeing this Calvin speaks up to try and keep it light, âsorry if that was an overstep, um, dude. Though itâs some of the best Iâve ever had! If you wouldnât mind telling me what kind it is Iâd love to get some myself! Is it like heavy cream? No way itâs a non-dairy!â Calvin takes another sip and lets it again dance on his tongue, he can barely taste the coffee underneath as the milkâs creamy taste grows more prominent by the second.
There is another pause. Derrickâs eyes follow the cup and he grimaces before swallowing hard and bucking up. âFor sure for sure lilâ bro. Uhhh, promise you wonât be mad though.â Calvin tilts his head and Derrick responds before he has a chance to swallow and respond, âItâs from my guy at the gym. Itâs um, raw milk.â Calvinâs brow furrows quicker than a heartbeat as he hears this. His mind races with memories of the brain-rotted arguments heâs read from the most barbarous gym bros about drinking the bacteria ridden garbage, for quite literally no good reason. After that, memories flash of health reports that followed soon after, detailing the bird flu outbreaks in the community. Despite this, and despite himself, he doesnât immediately spit take. Try as he might his lips open slower than his throat as he swallows yet another mouthful of what he now knows to be unpasteurized poison.
âWhat the fuck?â He says quietly, staring daggers into his roommate who is shaking his hands and head quickly. âNonono bro bro just chill! My trainer fuckinâ swears by this stuff and heâs completely fine! If you saw the results youâd be- Uh? Dude?â Derrick pauses as he sees Calvin start to raise the cup to his lips again, he had just intended to inspect it bit. Give it a sniff or something, but itâs like his bodyâs on auto pilot. His hand tilts the mug and his mouth falls ajar. His throat similarly opens unnaturally as the whole of his cup, only just cool enough to drink, pours straight down his throat. His eyes widen in fear as the desire to drink overpowers every rational thought crying out for him to stop immediately.Â
Slamming the mug down after essentially shotgunning his surely pathogen filled cup of joe, Calvin finds himself frozen in place. Clutching his mouth heâs lost in thought as everything in him begins to accelerate. Chugging his coffee seems to have filled him with even more energy than usual as his mind races even faster than his accelerating heartbeat. He struggles to focus on any meaningful course of action, and couldnât possibly come to the idea to induce vomiting to eliminate the source of whatever this hysteria is. Instead, heâs struck with a deep rooted need to move, to sweat, to work hard. He is immediately twitchy as every individual muscle in his body has an urge to stretch, to burn, to grow.
This desperate need is clear on his face and when he looks up to see his hitherto antsy roommate Derrick, he simply smiles wide, wordlessly understanding what is about to happen. Calvin canât hear whatever he says over the buzzing in his head, but as Derrick brings out his smallest gym clothes heâs able to put two and two together. Filled with impulse alien and energy unbecoming, still clearly driven by whatever strange autopilot that brought the raw milked coffee to his lips, Calvin finds himself getting ready for a horrible gym session with his roommate.
Concern at just how bizarre this situation is falls by the wayside as he feels the soothing burn of stretching. Thoughts and worries of being sick vacate immediately as he instead focuses on whateverâs going on in his body. Mumbling to himself about needing to stretch more, he allays the discomfort in his stomach as he sees just how excited Derrick is about finally getting him to go to the gym together. âBro letâs go! Your first pump is gonna be killer! Especially after having some of my trainerâs special stuff!â He adds on, slamming his massive hand into the back of Calvinâs shoulder with enough force that should send the typically meek man sprawling.
Instead Calvin simply stumbles forward a single step, grunting as he rolls his shoulder and flexes his arm. The burn from the smack swiftly transitions to the burning soreness of exercise, before even lifting a weight lactic acid sears through his arm and veins bulge down his bicep. Calvin turns with a cocky smirk, arm raised in a bicep flex and Derrick stands beside himself with excitement, he shakes Calvin by his shoulders, âBrooo! Letâs run! We gotta make the most of your first dose!â While his body races with energy his mind slows and his eyes glaze over, not quite able to understand whatever Derrickâs implying. At any rate the two men race out the door. Calvin trails quite far behind at the start but with each surging step forward he feels himself picking up speed as his legs begin to bulge larger.

Once inside Derrick immediately sends the newbie through the wringer. Mind clouded, heâs putty in the expertâs hands as heâs ushered into machines and through techniques he should be struggling to complete. Instead every lift, every push, every pump, sends pleasure immeasurable through him. His body burns. His body grows. Gritting his teeth as his biceps fill the sleeves of his shirt and for the first time muscle begins to amass on his flat chest. Derrickâs mouth may as well be watering as he sees Calvinâs insane gains. His own pulse accelerates as he pushes Calvin well past what his breaking point should be.
âFuck bro, you look fucking killer!? No way this is your first time at the gym.â Derrick says through a smirk as he positions Calvin at a mirror so they can take some thirst traps. Awkwardly posing as he begins to feel a comedown from both his workout and whatever concoction he unfortunately enjoyed, Calvin feels some sort of sense begin to return to his mind. Seeing himself shirtless in public he feels his lungs take brief panting breaths as he begins to hyperventilate. Inspecting his reflection heâs thrown off course, he does look killer. Thatâs impossible!? Thatâs not how working out works right? He leans in close to see pecs have somehow bulged onto his chest. Traps above and arms that could lift more weight than he could previously dream at their side. He balks as he sees his body has somehow become something beyond admirable.
He typically prides himself on his rationality, but as he sees these impossible changes he knows there can only be one cause. He gulps as he looks at his first workout partner wandering off into the gym, feeling an emptiness in his stomach that there is now a desperate need to resolve. He needs more. Calvinâs eyes continue tracing every new powerful curve of his body while he waits for his roommate to return. Somehow two steps ahead of the usually astute Calvin, Derrick returns hiding something behind his back, âGuess what I got bro!â Calvinâs breath catches in his chest as he stares at his roommate with hunger newfound.
Derrick tosses him a bottle with a smug smirk at having totally convinced the man on raw milk. Catching it, Calvin doesnât hear the recommendations offered or see the look of shock on the jockâs face as he opts to down a good chunk of the quart then and there. âWoah bro?â Wiping milk off his face with a sweaty arm he releases a burp louder and deeper than he would ever have allowed himself to do this morning. Derrick pats him on the back once more with a laugh. Excited at having another bro to workout with, he doesnât spend a second questioning the changes in his roommate as his stomach bloats and his pecs almost seem to grow weightier immediately.Â
Returning to their apartment Derrick talks Calvinâs ear off about macros and strategies that Calvin agrees to without even half-listening. Feeling the not quite cold jug of milk in his hand he knows he has everything he needs already. While it filled him with energy inhuman this morning, drinking it after a workout has unearthed new sensations. Under his new bloated abs he feels his cock begin to stir in his pants, only now realizing that heâs wearing borrowed compression shorts he notices that he is already chubbed up. Feeling his dick stretch against the nylon fabric he bites his lip as his balls pulse beneath it. Seeing him adjust his gait Derrick fully looks down to see the manâs package suddenly bulging through his shorts.
He laughs loudly as he addresses the not-quite elephant in the room. Eyes glazed over even more now that his growing balls have arrived on the scene, he doesnât quite hear Derrick explain the broscience behind NoFap. Converted already on drinking raw milk he continues nodding along as his balls do their best to demand his attention and immediate release.Â
Crossing the threshold into their apartment Calvin feels himself tempted to already throw in the towel and enjoy the fruits of his new labor. Heâs heard that masturbating after working out is a heady delight, or perhaps it was the other way around. He puts his head in his hands, groaning as thereâs a drive in him to stay strong. Sitting on his bed he realizes a lifeline in self-control that sleep presents and simply lies back. Whatever happens while heâs unconscious is out of his hands he thinks with a smirk as sleep finds him quicker than it has in years.

His new changes continue their advance while he rests in dreamless sleep. Calvin squirms as his new chest immediately begins to strain the tank he threw on before hopping into bed. His pecs grow at a rate quicker than anywhere else on his body, nipples growing from the pinpricks theyâve always been into half-dollars that will rarely be hidden behind a single layer of fabric.Â
Well, his pillowy pecs arenât outpacing every part of his body. Hidden in musky compression shorts he didnât have a chance to change out of, his balls swell to produce hormones for a man twice his size. Hair prickles up from his pubes, creating a dusty treasure trail, and out from his pits, to one day connect with a forest on his chest, as testosterone production soars higher than that of lumberjacks and the most macho military men. Morning wood pushes against his shorts and he moans and rolls over onto his stomach and clenches at the sheets.
His unconscious form moves with a ferality as he humps his bed with power that continues to grow greater by the second. In his own bedroom reading workout guides, Derrick looks to the wall in shock as he hears his roommateâs bed frame creak. Feeling his own package cry for attention he decides heâs earned a break as he treats himself to his own petit mort, imagining his twink of a roommate bulking up over time, he begins jacking off to his fantasies. Totally unaware as the manâs body in reality is already exceeding his dreamed expectations.Â
As Calvin finds release, moaning loud enough for Derrick to hear his voice deepening, stubble begins to stain his face. Likely to never leave for long at all. His cock had jumped out of his waist band during his mattress humping session, leaving cum stains smattered across his new treasure trail. After this release his balls return to overdrive and begin to churn once more, filling him with desire and drive that will get him through his next workout, milk or no milk. Though given his apparent addiction to the stuff it is clear which way he would prefer.

Calvin isnât quite sure what time he went to bed or what time it is now that heâs woken up. His morning routine of drinking coffee and getting straight to work abdicates to be replaced by his chugging whatever of Derrickâs miracle milk he can find. Seeing it still dark outside he isnât deterred as he downs a glass of raw milk before pouring a thermos of the ambrosia for the road. Raring to go, he grabs his roommateâs workout bag and beats feet to get another steamy session in at the gym.Â
Something within Calvin tries to speak up in existential fear of what has happened to him, what he is becoming. Slowing his jog he is struck with a migraine. Grunting as he picks back up speed, he feels his balls pulse and his bloated torso flex as every step towards the gym brings him closer to pleasure and fulfillment heâs never neared knowing before now. The voice in the back of his mind grows quieter and rapidly feels itself losing ground, after all hasnât he always wanted to be this kind of guy? Who wouldnât. His pecs bounce with every step, his new larger nipples scratching against his tight shirt as his chest aches to grow larger.Â
He sneers at the early morning receptionist as she tries to check him in and she rolls her eyes, muttering something about asshole bros before returning to her cellphone. Hearing that as he continues striding forward, massive chest raised, the final meek part of him remaining grasps at its last strands. Heâs not a bro. He's just a normal guy. So what heâs started to hit the gym, itâs not like heâs some dumb oaf, right? He struggles to hold this should be truth as he sees a shirt he should be drowning in hang off his chest, exposing his lowest row of abs and a treasure trail heâs never come close to having before. He avoids looking at his defined jaw underneath a beard that should have taken him years to grow. All the while he desperately fights against the mind-numbing urges issuing forth from his growing cock and bulging balls.

Making it to the locker room he immediately loses his shirt and looks at his reflection in full. Seeing his milk-bloated stomach he flexes his muscles and just as soon pauses thinking about who he is, who he is supposed to be to instead watch as every part of him bulges larger. Hungrily staring at himself his thoughts slow to a crawl, befores stopping altogether as he methodically stretches and flaunts every muscle group in turn. He hasnât even touched a weight this morning, and yet at every movement his body seems to expand and bulge larger. Biceps peaking higher with every flex, thighs strain his pants and his calves burst larger with every raise and stretch. He licks his lips as he sees individual strands of muscle on his pecs cramp and grow larger, doing so he tastes the nectar that delivered him this deific form.Â
The voice of his past self goes completely mute as his mind slows to such a crawl heâll be lucky to ever perform actions with more than three steps again. The idea of excess certainly doesnât cross his mind as he tears into Derrickâs gym bag looking for the packed flask of his potation. Canât have too much of a good thing, he thinks without thinking as he immediately brings the flask to his mouth and chokes down as much as he can stand. Raw milk trickles down his face as he truly becomes the type of man he has always loathed. Unconcerned with hygiene or social moors, unwashed and apathetic to anyone around him. Why should they matter anyway he thinks as his pecs bulge larger as milk trails a path in between thickening hairs.


His stomach bulges larger as he consumes more milk than anyone should have in a week. He groans as his throat bulges with the haste at which heâs downing his miracle elixir. Thankfully heâs already torn off his shirt to ogle himself or it would have burst clean off as his stomach expands. His heavy pecs bloat even larger as they rest on his new gut. Clouded spit drips down his chin as he sits down and blankly stares ahead, saliva mixing with sweat that is increasingly covering his body from the exertion of putting on mass. The locker room bench creaks underneath him as weight it should take a lifetime to produce just pours onto his body as the last dregs of his mind, his true self, slip away.Â
His swollen stomach swiftly bursts the waist of his pants as fat and muscle struggle for real estate on his new form. Veins bulge down his meaty arms as his biceps rival the size of his head, now supported on a neck the size of a tree trunk, framed by weighty traps on either side. He guffaws as he sees his cock fully exposed in the locker room and goes to cover it with one of his massive mitts, struggling to do so just as any pair of pants would from now on. There's the sound of fabric exploding and he looks down to see his feet already more than eclipsing the now torn soles of his tennis shoes. He scratches his thickening beard as he tries to figure out what to do. Slow as he may be heâs pretty sure the gym will kick him out if he wanders around the gym nude.

Digging through the pile of Derrickâs clothes he realizes all the clothes within were dirty laundry. Shrugging as thatâs no longer a concern for him he finds a pair of sweat-stained shorts and throws them on, smirking at the feeling of his cock freeballing in the tight cotton shorts. No chance heâll find a shirt large enough to cover his godly torso he doesn't even try. Why would he want to cover his pride and joy anyway. Scratching at his chest as the hair across his torso thickens into a pelt he smirks before switching to fondle his package and flex at his own reflection.Â
Calvin feels pre drip down his leg as he immediately grows hard and swears he can see himself pumping larger with every heartbeat. He isnât sure how long he stands there getting off to his own power before his roommate arrives to the locker room shouting, âBrooo! I was wondering where my gym bag went huhuh!â He runs over and gives his bro a bear hug before trying to lift him, neck bulging as he fails to get the now behemoth even an inch off the ground. Calvin laughs loud enough for the eyes-rolling receptionist to hear as he moves to easily heave his now less massive roommate in the air.Â
Derrick blushes airborne before smirking and playfully squeezing the titan as hard as he can, similarly apathetic to the filth covering his roommateâs hairy body. After the man holding him high stops laughing Derrick speaks up, âSee I told you that milk was the stuff huhuh!â Moments pass while Calvin stands with mouth ajar, as he will for a few seconds anytime his slowchugging mind deigns to try and speak. His voice is a rumble as the dull words fall from his slack-jawed mouth, âUhhhh whatever bro. Iâve uhhh, always been about drinking that shit.â Punctuating it with a rather bullish nose exhalation as he sets the man down and pouts.
His roommate rolls his eyes and ruffles his short sweaty hair as he knows when to let the big guy win an argument. âSure sure bro. You wanna head in there and get even fuckinâ bigger?â Derrick sees Calâs cock bob in his shorts like a dogâs wagging tail at the idea of a workout. He grunts in the affirmative and Derrick pats him on the back to usher him forward. The two men then set off to the races, Calvin now taking point. Never to be the bright one again, nothing remains in his mind to question why he knows all he does about working out.Â
Rarely would any adrift shred of his past self stumble through the dense thick fog of his mind. If they ever do theyâll find themselves part of the new Cal soon enough anyway. Itâs of no matter who he was before he was king of this gym. He doesnât even need bro science anymore as he continues to grow larger au naturale. The two men become icons at their gym, every day showing the ropes to men who dream to be a fraction of what they already are, and every night returning back to their apartment for some steamy well-earned cardio.
This is what happens when get a good whiff of feet from your infected neighbor beast.

Feels overwhelming doesn't it. That high, that buzz, that strong feeling of my essence crawling on in. While you suck and huff my infectious foot scent. As you puff on em back with your foot breath, it only makes em sweatier.
Further opening your mind to me. But you probably wanted that when you first saw a beast like me huh heh. You wanted to be big, stink, strong like me. Heh you look like nothings on your mind. Now that your face is dripping. I know my stink is scrambling yer brain, eh!
"Mmmmm, y-yes! These feet are...g-good-!"
Well keep sucking the sweat bud. Keep swallowing it. Cause once yer done. It's all you are now. Just how it is, how it should be.
"-sniffs- y-yes, this is!"
Don't worry cause yer gonna turn into me. Ya gonna stink, sweat, grow, and think like me piglet. Already inside ya, but I'll train ya bud. I'll make ya into one hell of a pig. That's it keep huffing em.
"Y-yessir just like you. Just...like...you! B-beefy balls cock and nuts and- and oh god- my nuts sir."
That's it that's it, let it happen bud. It's okay bud. Just keep swallowing my stink while you let your nuts boil over. Rub my feet while it happens.
"-whimpers, while breathing heavily and panting- mmm mrmm ye-yes sir your stink, i gotta breath mmm fuck I need to blow. So much sperm in my nuts, bull balls, aah in-infection. All I am- I- I accept. Stink in my brain, aaaash! -practically frothing at the teeth-"
That's right bud. Let me in, let it in. Let the stink in!
Genetics (twink to bear tf)

"Urgh, you know what I fucking hate? Fat men. Like, bears, you know? It's just so gross. I can't believe they don't take care of their bodies"
I fucking hate twinks like this. Just because he's skinny, smooth, pretty, he thinks he's so special? It's just genetics! It's not anyone else's fault their DNA has made them a real man, not like him.
If he thinks it's so fucking easy to be them, why doesn't he try walking a mile in their shoes?
Hmm...

SNAP - a nice, big, pair of work boots (don't mind the smell). Their last owner has soaked then nice and deep in sweat, and the traces of DNA left in them will be just what this twink needs to remodel his life.
I leave them in his bedroom. When he finds them, his curiosity will get the better of him, and as he slips them on his cells will start to squirm and wriggle and edit their genetic code into the perfect pig. His balls swell, pumping more and more testosterone around his body. His muscles thicken and bulge, and a layer of fat coats his stomach. He tries to yelp, but a low, rumbling growl comes out of the new, thick Adam's apple instead. When he clutches it, he feels that his hands are thicker, meatier.
A real man should have thick, sweaty armpit hair too. All that extra testosterone makes you stink, you know? It's intoxicating, and he reaches down and grabs his new, thick cock.
Fuuck, he smells great. At least, he thinks so ;)

But damn bros, I dunno, do you think it's enough? That's not a bear, that's a cub at best
Cuz like, while his old twink genetics had kept his body hair to zero, in a real man, those follicles get turned on everywhere. His back, his hands, especially his ass. He should have after wave of dark hair creeping all over him, up over his shoulders, deep into his crack...

And no one keeps up a gym routine forever. Eventually he'll start skipping, taking cheat days, and those things have consequences, ya know: big consequences. With all this new appetite his body starts to bulge, stretching out at the waist, each can of beer going straight into his new gut. His brain cells rewire - from now on, he's gonna be always hungry, always just wanting to sit on the couch, scratch his balls, and stuff his face like a pig

There, bros, don't you think he's perfect? Of course when he snaps out of it, he's gonna scream, sob, and whinge about his new body, but I'm sure he'll come round eventually. He'll understand how much better it is to have a body like this, to have a set of genetics blessed by the god of pigs
But if not, hey, he can just lose some weight, right? It's so easy
[I hope this one is good! Remember, asks and dms are always open for tf requests or roleplay. Maybe tell me what you'd do to me, or request a visit from the god of pigs]