Who Am I? What Is This Blog? These Are Some Questions You Might Be Asking. Im Just A Guy Who Likes Transformations.

Who am I? What is this blog? These are some questions you might be asking. I’m just a guy who likes transformations. I’ve been writing my own for about two years. I started with inanimate TFs, but I am branching out to MtoM stuff.

This blog will be where I post my own writing, and occasionally reblog some stuff I wish I had written. I hope you enjoy my work. Feel free to ask me to transform you. One by one, I aim to transform every guy on the planet into a massive, muscle beast. You could be next, even if you’re unwilling.

Just a few words about requests and ideas. I can’t get to them all. I don’t do gross stuff and I don’t like celebrity stuff. Please use the ask feature at the top of the blog. If I don’t use your suggestion, please don’t DM me to ask about it.

Remember to allow Mature work on your privacy settings. I personally would not classify any of my work as overly explicit, but it is intended for an 18+/adult audience. If tumblr deems my writing to be mature, then I won't argue with that label. I do implore you to change your settings though, so you don't miss any of my posts.

Thanks for reading my work.

Becoming Papi

An unnamed narrator wins a competition to get "up close and personal" with his favourite hockey player, Auston Matthews. Turns out he may be getting closer and more personal than he anticipated!

This is a story I've posted elsewhere. It is my story, copyright me.

"Get Up-close and Personal with Auston Matthews!” The competition had said. I had entered on a whim, never expecting to win. I was very surprised to receive the winning notice in my inbox a few days later. For a week, I had been buzzing. I was going to meet my favourite hockey player! Number 34 of the Toronto Maple Leafs: Auston Matthews. 

And now I was here! Sitting in a random training room at the Ford Performance Centre in Etobicoke, Ontario, just outside of Toronto. The room was cool and full of exercise equipment. Massive banners hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in different murals of player faces and motivational phrases. I fiddled with my shirt as I waited, thinking about how Auston was likely in the next room also waiting for me. I wondered if he was as nervous as I was or if he was calm and cool, but before I could put much into the thought, the door opened. A woman dressed in black poked her head through the gap.

“You can come in now,” she said.

I smiled and and followed her through the door. The room on the other side was a long room, with wooden dressing stalls and benches against the walls. Hockey equipment hung at each stall; pants, shoulder pads, blue and white practise jerseys and the room had a gentle odour of sweat. A massive Maple Leaf logo covered much of the floor, and sitting on one of the wooden benches was Auston Matthews. He was wearing a cream coloured hoodie, shorts and a baseball cap. The way he sat on the bench pushed his thighs, making them seem thicker and bigger. His hair was slicked back behind his ears while his dark moustache was sitting darkly on his upper lip.

“Auston,” I murmured, reaching towards him with my hand. “It’s so, so incredible to meet you!”

“Hey,” he said in a relaxed drawl and standing up to meet me. He was taller than me. His smile instantly relaxed me. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m such a big fan. You’re, like, my favourite player.” I was gushing, but I didn’t care.

He was killing me with that smile. I realized I was still gripping his hand. 

“Oh sorry!” I said, but his hand tightened and firmed around mine. I felt a warm tingling around my palm for a moment before he let go and grinned at me.

“You’re going to be perfect,” he said. “What happens next is going to be weird… Just relax and let it happen.”

He let go of my hand and I felt my face contort into a puzzled expression. But before I was able to voice a question, I was met with an extreme pricking sensation travelling up my arm. It started in the hand Auston had just shook and gradually travelled and radiated across my body. It felt like a warm, relaxing wave that cascaded through my blood and over my skin.

“You should probably take off your clothes for this,” Auston said. 

I nodded and did what I was told, tossing everything in a corner. The waves were coursing faster through my body now, making my heart thump in my chest. I spied a mirror on the wall and walked over to it, ignoring the fact that I was naked. The tingling sensation was across my entire body now, causing me to become excited and aroused. My penis began to lift and grow harder, and so it only felt right to touch it. I stood naked in the Maple Leafs’ dressing at their practice facility, feeling dazed and tingly, stroking my cock for extra sensation.

The tingling stopped, but the warmth remained and a sudden jolt of energy attacked my shoulders. My shoulders clicked and popped and widened out, with new muscle mass stretching overtop. At the same time, my deltoids and pectoral muscles ballooned, becoming thicker and much more pronounced with thick layers of muscle. I felt strength and power push down into my core. Where once there had been a ring of fat, there were now strong abdominal muscles. My stomach tightened and fortified, needing more room to house the brawn I was gaining, and I became stocky and heavy-set in muscle. Dark lines sketched their way across my right side and arm: new tattoos inked their way onto my bulked mass. An intricate sleeve tattoo wove across my right arm, painting dark lines across my lightly browning skin. I stroked my hand across my chest, feeling the raw strength and newly sprouted chest hair underneath my fingertips. My back cracked and stretched as I jumped up several inches in height.

The skin on my penis darkened and the shaft grew in girth and length into a monster cock. Pre-cum began to drip out of the tip. I was enjoying the changes.

In the mirror I saw a wide-chested, bulked out body attached to two stick-like legs. To say it looked like I skipped leg day would be an understatement. Almost automatically, the changes continued in my lower half. My butt ballooned and padded out, looking like two globes attached to my waist, the product of millions of squats. My thighs thickened and increased significantly, looking more like massive trunks than legs now. Below that, my calves became cut and toned, shedding any excess fat and leaving behind only raw muscle. I stood on two strong centres of explosive power. The skin browned slightly, matched the hue of the my torso.

I looked in the mirror at my new body. Instinctively, I knew it was Auston Matthews’ body. Everything from the neck down was unfamiliar, different and new, but deep down I knew it was right. In fact, it looked odd seeing my thin head attached to such a muscular body. The changes were not finished yet. I turned and saw the other Auston (the real Auston) with his shorts around his ankles, stroking his penis vigorously; it appeared he was enjoying my changes as much as I was.

Turning back to the mirror, I saw my skull and expanding, creaking and cracking as it went. My chin pushed forward, squaring off the back of my jaw as well. My eyes became more inset, slightly narrower and darker and my nose more pointed and wide at the nostrils. My hair lengthened down towards my neck, and my forehead broadened as my hairline migrated to the very top of my head. My ears flattened a little against my head and became longer. The wild and bushy eyebrows I sported before thinned, becoming tapered lines above my dark eyes. My teeth whitened and straightened. And above my thickening lips, a dark wisp of hair poked out through my skin and thickened into a Latino-style moustache. It swept across my entire upper lip into a neat half triangle that stretched under my nose. More patches of scruff and facial hair dotted across my cheeks and neck. Auston Matthews was staring at me from the mirror.

“That was sick, bro!” The other Auston Matthews was behind me, retying the drawstring on his shorts. He was wearing a face mask now, and a dark blue coloured hoodie and cap. His eyes looked lighter than before, almost like he had changed his own appearance as well. He stepped over, offering me his hand to high-five. 

I felt my face smile that trademark Auston Matthews smile. “Thanks,” I replied, my voice now lower and echoing the same laid-back drawl, and returned his high-five. 

“You probably have a million questions. Like ‘what happened’, ‘what did you do?’, right?”

“Something like that!” I laughed.

“So, yeah, basically… I want some time off. I’m going to disappear for a while… Get off the grid and relax. So while I’m gone, I want you to cover for me. This is your prize for winning that competition!”

“So I’m you?” I said, not fully understanding. 

“Not yet. You will be, just as soon as I’ve said the code word. After that, you will be Auston Matthews and I’ll just be some guy.”

“Oh,” I said. “I- I’m pretty shit at hockey. Like, I can skate but I can’t shoot for shit. I can’t even lift the puck. I don’t know how this is gonna work.” 

“Don’t worry about that. As soon as I say the code word, the transformation will finish and you’ll have all of my skills and memories, my winning personality… everything! You’ll be a complete copy of me.”

“Really? That’s fucking awesome! But what about the me from before? People are going to wonder where I am.”

“I’ll take care of that. Don’t worry. Let’s just say, that guy from before? He’s living on the other side of the planet. I’ll be back in a year, maybe more if you want, and I’ll change you back. All right?”

A life of possibilities flashed through my mind. I had never thought of playing in the NHL, even as a fantasy, and now it was about to become my reality.

“Oh! I forgot one thing,” Auston said as he lifted his arms behind his neck to two silver chains that were hooked there. “You’ll need these,” he said, and he carefully slipped them around my neck.” 

I looked into the mirror, staring back at my naked body, taking in my massive hockey butt and sleeve tattoo. The silver chains caught the light, and a silver cross stuck against my massive pectorals. It felt complete now. I ran my hands over my shoulders, chest, stomach and butt, grinning at myself. I’m going to be Auston Matthews! I thought. No, I am Auston Matthews! 

“All right bud, this is it. Remember, from this moment, you are going to be Auston Matthews. It’s going to feel awesome and amazing. Enjoy it.” The other Auston wrapped his arm around my beefy neck. “Don’t forget, you’ve got practice after this, ay Papi?”

Papi? A calm fog entered my brain. The world melted away from me and I felt the final changes take hold.

My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs…

My name is Auston Matthews.

My brain filled with years of hockey practice, workouts, flashes of Mexican heritage, memories of playing for USA National Team, playing with the ZSC Lions in Zürich and of playing with the Toronto Maple Leafs. I remembered the awards I had won, the All Star games I had played in, the teammates I had played with. My brain relaxed and mellowed, as new personality traits took over. The foreign-feeling muscles I had just grown became familiar and normal; I immediately knew how to use the power in my legs and arms. Some Spanish words entered my brain and I felt my identity switch to part Mexican. The fog lifted from my brain, and the room re-materialised around me. 

What am I doing here, staring at myself in the mirror! I need to get dressed for practice! 

I immediately strode over to my dressing stall — the one marked MATTHEWS 34 — and slipped on my compression gear and skate socks. I grabbed my jock and pulled it up to my waist, adjusting my crotch and penis to sit within the cup. Sitting, I reached for my shin pads, fixed him to my legs, and strapped the Velcro around my calves. I pulled a pair of blue and white striped hockey socks overtop of my shin pads, and hooked them securely at my waist. 

I was on autopilot at this point; everything felt natural and normal. 

I slid into a pair of blue hockey pants and tightened them around my waist. I saw that my skates were a custom pair of CCMs, with a blue and white pattern around the ankle with my nickname Papi and number 34 next to it. I stomped my foot inside the boot and tied my skates on tight. Quickly, I took a roll of hockey tape and wrapped one, two, three strips tightly around my shins. Next I grabbed my shoulder pads and elbow pads and strapped them around my massive arms and chest. I pulled a blue practise jersey over my pads, the number 34 emblemed on the back. Instinctively, I ran my hand through my hair and slicked it back, making it easier for me to don my helmet. I clipped the straps and checked it was on tightly. 

I reached for my gloves, putting them on felt familiar and welcoming. I nimbly ambled over, walking in skates, towards the rink exit, grabbing two of my PAPI labelled sticks from the rack. They were already taped and waxed and ready for some quick wristers on the ice. With my equipment on and my sticks in hand, I walked towards the ice.

Before stepping on the rink, I noticed a figure in the stands; an anonymous figure in a cream-coloured hoodie. I offered a loose salute from my temple and took my first stride. I let my powerful leg muscles work the way they had been conditioned to as I made confident movements across the pad. Spying a puck, I pivoted and strode towards it, catching it with my stick and pulling it towards me. I skated towards the empty net and in an instant, snapped it into the back of the goal. The whole movement had taken less than a second. I grinned and looked back to the now empty spot where the figure had stood. 

“My name is Auston Matthews, and I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs,” I thought to myself and ripped off another shot on goal.

Hey! Huge fan from FA! I'm so glad you're back! I always wanted to see how I would look like in any kind of uniform. Would you be so kind to grant that wish?

snap

Welcome, welcome, welcome. Yes, you're here. No, you're not dreaming. Yes, you can get naked. In fact I encourage you to be naked.

You want a uniform, huh? I love uniforms.

Let's get a good look at you... You're on the short side. I can fix that. Feel your body aching and stretching and cracking, as you grow up to over 6 foot. You're like 6 foot, 3 inches now. Tall. Nothing wrong with short guys, but tall guys can get it too.

Your top half is going to be bigger than your top half. Sorry, my guy, you like the gym but work is going to get in the way of going consistently. So, I think you'll have big, broad shoulders, beefy arms and some meaty legs. ... Fine, I'll give you a chest and abs to match. Feel the burn, the prickling skin as it matches to fit in your expanding muscles. Feel your blood rushing through your veins, pumping through your new muscles.

Man, you look better than I expected.

Face time! This is my favourite part. I'm going to crack your skull and face wider — big, pinch-able cheeks. With some great beard growth. Dark eyes, dark hair - it's the perfect combination. You're cute, with a big body to go along with it. Dark hair. Slicked back, dark hair! Oh, you're vaguely Italian? From New Jersey. You love your Italian roots.

Okay, take a look at yourself. Looking good! All that's missing is the uniform you asked for. Put these black dress pants on, and these black sneakers. I have a black t-shirt too — careful not to spoil your hair! You spent ages getting it perfect. And the pièce de résistance, your new Starbucks apron. Slip it on bro. You look great! You look disappointed... Why are you bummed out? It's not the uniform you wanted? Oh, I can change that too. I'll finish off with those mental changes.

You're in your twenties, working at Starbucks to save for college. You get to the gym every now and then, but you spend a lot of time slinging coffee. You played football in high school - those were the days. In your spare time you like the clubs down on the Shore, fist bumping until the wee hours.

One last touch, you have to have that one perfect thing... Give me a smile; I'll just tweak your teeth and lips and perfect. Okay now, back to work!

Cold Water

Tim and Daniel are sitting watching the sunrise over the ocean. They want to go spearfishing but Tim forgot to bring their gear, so Daniel decides to improvise...

This is an inanimate TF story.

The sky was heavy with dawn and a looming mist draped over the water in front of us. Tim and I sat together on a rocky outcrop, listening to the gentle lapping of the ocean waves collapsing onto the shore below us. He sat beside me, wearing an oversized hoodie, a bright red beanie hat and black pants, watching the darkness of the sky melt away with the first lights of the morning sun appeared in the distance. A breeze blew off of the water and we both shivered while watching the inky black waves crash and foam below.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim repeated. “I thought I had all our gear.”

Tim had been in charge of bringing our spearfishing gear on this trip. He had packed our bags, prepared our wetsuits, fins, masks and snorkels. I was in charge of the spearguns, spears and floats, and they were all lying on the damp ground behind us.

I smiled at Tim, “It’s fine. Really. I’m happy to finally spend some time with you, that’s all I wanted.”

Tim didn’t return my gaze. He looked down at the soggy rocks and rubbed at them with his thumb.

“I know,” he finally said. “Me too. I was just really looking forward to diving the bay. The fishing here is supposed to be amazing!”

We both paused, letting the moment rest. I suddenly realised something. “Y’know... I might be able to sort something out.” I said, climbing to my feet. “Really? How?” Tim said, looking up at me.

I began to take off my own hoodie and pants, bracing for the cold sea air to wrap around my bare skin. I tossed my clothing at Tim, who playfully tossed it away from me. When I was just standing in my underwear, I took those off too and threw them at Tim’s head. He caught them and tossed them with the rest of my clothing. I stood in front him, shivering and cold, and naked as the day I came.

“Just wait. You’ll like this, I promise.”

I sat down next to Tim and stretched my legs out in front of me. The cold rock against my bare backside was only slightly colder than the air around me. But not to worry, I thought, soon I will be a thick neoprene wetsuit, ready for the cold water.

After a few minutes of deep breathing and concentrating, I felt the changes begin. It started with my toes growing numb and lifeless, flattening and stretching out into rubber flipper fins.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Quiet. Just watch. You’ll be able to go spearfishing soon,” I grinned at Tim. If he asked any follow up questions, I didn’t hear them. Contorting my face slightly, I concentrated on making the changes happen.

My feet flattened and widened before they grew and stretched out to almost a metre in length. A red graphic sketched itself on the top flat part of my foot. I tried to bend and wiggle my toes but found I couldn’t as there were no bones or nerve endings anymore. I managed a brief shake with my leg and found that the flipper part was very flexible, perfect for diving down deep in the ocean. A plastic ridge formed at the edge of the fin that tapered all the way to the very tip of it, allowing for more flexibility and sturdiness. Sitting with the flippers straight up in the air quickly became taxing on my ankles, and made me long for the changes to the rest of my feet to hurry.

The top part of my foot bulged out and hollowed enough for Tim to slide his own foot inside. Parts of my bone and muscle transformed into a neoprene bootie so Tim’s own feet would not get cold in the freezing waters. With my feet now completely transformed into long spearfishing fins, and no longer able to support themselves, they both collapsed to the side with only a black neoprene bootie peeking from inside. I now sat, footless, on the rocks with a ring of black rubber forming at my ankles and creeping up my legs. The changes continued with the black neoprene ring climbing up my calves towards my knees. As it went, my legs hollowed and flattened. It felt like pins and needles were inching their way up my legs; my skin thickened and then turned numb as the rubbery texture grew larger and larger.

The black glideskin neoprene was rubbery and smooth. Reaching down to feel, it felt very odd under my skin, as my internal bones and blood faded away and my body transformed into thick, spongey neoprene. A 7mm thick wetsuit would be just enough for Tim. I pulled at the material and felt how elastic and stretchy I had become.

As the changes approached my crotch, I lay my top half down on the ground as I would soon lose any ability to keep myself sitting upright. The neoprene at my crotch was not the shiny rubbery glideskin that my legs had become, it was the nylon-covered closed cell style that would allow for more flexibility in Tim’s sensitive areas. I angled my arms and elbows beneath my back and lifted my upper neck and shoulders so I could still watch the changes.

Parts of my hip bone popped and groaned and slipped from my waist, thunking onto the floor as a diving weight belt. A piece of stretchy silicon and rubber snaked through each weight and a plastic clip snapped onto the end. My neoprene body was very buoyant and would make Tim float unless he wore a weight belt to help him dive to the bottom of the sea.

My penis became deflated and flat, but still maintained it’s cylindrical shape and definition. As it deflated and emptied, the neoprene material stretched a little longer, becoming a pee hole for the trouser section of the wetsuit. The trouser part continued to just above my belly button, covering over the place where the weight belt had just appeared. Once above my waist, an entirely new section of wetsuit formed. The jacket section forged itself towards my armpits, but it also continued down to my crotch and legs, overlapping the material from my legs. A white seam wrapped around my waist separating the open cell material from the closed cell. The shiny neoprene rubber went up my body towards my head. A beaver tail enclosure formed at my back and slid in between my legs and two plastic clips popped out from my stomach.

My arms suddenly buckled and gave away, forcing my top half down and making me unable to watch my chest and stomach change. My arms and elbows were next to be transformed into slick rubbery neoprene and hollowed out; without bones to support my neck and head, I couldn’t keep them up.

The shiny rubbery neoprene continued along my arms and shoulders. My hands formed into thick neoprene gloves, with thick material like the rest of my body and velcro adjustment straps that snaked around my wrists. My palms bubbled into a grippy rubber and waterproof seals and seams stitched down the sides of my fingers. Once finished they lay on the ground, lifeless and empty. I instinctively tried to move my phantom hand but was obviously unable to move an inanimate neoprene diving glove.

At my neck, the neoprene completely engulfed my throat and back of my head. The material stopped just short of my face, forming a tight rubber seal that enveloped my ears. It climbed around the top of my head, claiming every strand of hair and inch of skin as stretchy rubber neoprene now. A warm and dull feeling crossed over my head and everything inside the neoprene hood melted into rubber and nylon. A new purpose, as a spearfishing wetsuit, overtook my mind. My lips involuntarily formed an O-shape and every organic part of my mouth melted into back plastic and pushed its way out into a long tubular snorkel. The final change was my eyes which popped out into a glass diving mask, a thick rubber strap snapping around the back of my head and a silicon seal suctioning off of the last remnants of my face.

The mask, snorkel and hood flopped on the ground. I was done changing. I couldn’t breathe or move, but I knew I didn’t need to. I was a wetsuit now and awaited the icy depths of the ocean; my neoprene shell ready to disperse heat and wick away moisture. I was ready for a dive!

-

My mouth was still hanging open. One minute we had been talking, watching the sunrise and listening to the waves, the next Daniel was naked, sitting on the rocks in the cold morning air and asking me to be quiet so he could concentrate. He told me to watch his foot and I watched the very tips of his feet compress and flatten and stretch out really far. His pink fleshy skin turned into a black rubber and plastic, and when I reached and touched it, I was able to bend it slightly. His feet looked a lot like spearfishing fins.

“What the fuck?” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

Daniel told me to be quiet.

I watched as his feet continued to stretch and grow longer. The rest of his feet swelled and emptied out. I repositioned where I was sitting and looked closer to see the changes more fully. The inside of the flipper was void except for a black neoprene bootie: his entire foot was gone!

The changes kept going. Daniel’s ankles turned black and shiny, resembling the same smooth skin open-cell neoprene material that our wetsuits at home were made from. The material travelled up his legs to his crotch. Waterproof seams and seals appeared on the sides of his legs. I touched the trousers. They were vibrating slightly, and felt spongey and rubbery. Pushing down on the material, it felt exactly the same as any other wetsuit I had owned, except this one was growing from where Daniel was lying. There was no denying that Daniel’s legs had changed into a wetsuit.

As the changes reached Daniel’s penis I suddenly became aware that my own penis was erect. I pulled down my shorts and began stroking to what I was watching. Daniel didn’t notice as he had laid down on the ground fully. His own penis flattened and disappeared into the black neoprene.

He really was changing into a wetsuit! But not changing into in the way you put one on, I mean he was becoming the wetsuit!

A weight belt thudded to the ground beside him — I guess he thought of everything I would need down in there.

Once the changes got to his chest, I was able to nudge Daniel’s legs and see they were completely empty and hollow. His entire body was changing.

The shininess of the rubbery, black neoprene travelled under his armpits and down his arms. Any body hair was instantly absorbed and changed. His hands switched into thick neoprene gloves, and just as well as the water was going to be freezing!

Once the neoprene got to Daniel’s neck, it moved around the back to form the wetsuit hood. His facial hair and head hair melted and became neoprene, rubber and nylon. His eyes popped out into a diving mask, and a snorkel pushed out of his mouth. With that last change, everything flopped and fell to the ground; empty and cold and without a wearer. There was no sign of Daniel, just a black wetsuit, mask, snorkel and fins.

I came over the rocks and quickly rushed to take offmy clothing. The sea air ripped at my skin but it would soon be covered by Daniel’s new neoprene body and the ice cold of the sea water.

I slipped my feet and legs into the wetsuit trousers, careful to not tear the material. The inside was already lubed and slid across my skin with ease. I put on the booties and tucked the upper part of the boot under the ankle material of the trousers, so as to limit any water getting to my bare skin. Grabbing the jacket, I first put my left arm into the arm hole and threaded it through to the wrist. As I slid the rest of the jacket over my head and down my torso, I felt another vibration wrap around my entire body. My head popped out of the other side and I attached the beaver tail under my crotch. Grabbing the gloves, I slipped them on my hands and bent down for the mask, fins and snorkel. The weight belt was the last thing I needed and was fastened around my waist.

There was a rocky outcrop just beside where we had been sitting that lead down to a secluded beach. I picked up the speargun and floats and carefully treaded down the slick steps. Once at the shore, I took a deep breath and prepared to step into the water. Using a rock for balance, I put on my fins (Daniel’s feet) and slipped the wetsuit hood (Daniel’s head) over my head. I quickly used the sea water to clean out the mask (Daniel’s eyes and nose) before donning it over my face. I stuck the snorkel (Daniel’s lips and mouth) into my mouth and gripped the speargun. The sun was up now and the ocean was flat and calm. The only sound came from the gentle rush of the waves hitting the beach. It was still cold, but the thick neoprene that Daniel had become was going to be more than enough to keep me warm for a few hours.

“I don’t know what just happened,” I said out loud. “But I liked it. I wonder what else you can become.”

And with that, I took a giant plunge into the icy waters.

I always wanted to feel what it’s like to be a hockey player. Seeing them in their uniforms.. turns me on.

snap

Hockey players are my speciality.

The first think you need is a big ass. It's okay, you can put your hands down there. You look shocked. It's not even close to being done. Bigger and bigger and bigger! There we go. A dump truck like that needs legs to match though, so let's get those thickened up.

What do you think, bud? You want to keep going?

You’ll need some beefy arms for all that hockey stick handling you’re about to do. You’ll have some really silky mitts!

You look the part, now to put the gear on.

Start with this, your base layer. It’s nice and tight, see. Makes your ass look good eh?

Strap your shin pads on next. And then slip these socks over top. You can probably guess what team you’re going on with those colours. Here are your pants, now you’re really looking big. Skates are next. Tie them tight!

All that’s left are shoulder pads, elbow pads and a jersey. What do you think of your number? Throw these gloves on and here’s your stick. Oh! I almost forgot your helmet. As soon as I put this on the change will be done. You’ll be a complete hockey player, from the way you talk to the way you dress. You’ll even have the skill. Ready for this? I bet you fucking are! You can’t wait to get out there and do some dirty dangles, eh bud? All right. Here it goes!

I’m hoping you can work your magic on me a bit. Any chance you could turn me into a massive muscle-bound Himbo? I’ve always wanted to push the limits of how muscular the human body can get, but have been struggling to get big enough myself to test those limits.

snap

So I hear you want to be a muscle himbo. I really want this for you. You deserve it. I’ve got to make you bigger. You’re going to be huge. Get ready! Yes, take off your clothes - I’m going to make a new you so it’s better if we can see all of it.

Remember, bigger is better. So that’s why I’m going to shrink you down to about 5 foot 10. I know, I know - I did say bigger … Trust me on this. You’re a shorter guy now! Please don’t be sad, I’m gonna bulk you up hard - you’ll see. It all starts with your chest… a slight prickling under the skin. Like your muscle is pulsating. The it spreads down your arms, to your back and stomach. The pulsing is growing in intensity now. Your insides are heating up and your muscles and skin a beginning to stretch and expand. That feeling is wrapping around your thighs and quads, heading down to your legs and feet. It’s getting stronger. It feel like your skin is burning - waves of warmth and intense muscle pain are going through your whole body, faster and faster and faster.

Open your eyes! Look down! You’re getting bigger! Every muscle is stretching and growing. You’re feeling a burn on every part of your body. Watch your pecs push out to two gigantic globes. Feel the instense strain on your oblique muscles near your perfectly chiselled abs. They’re stretching out! You may be shorter, but you’re getting wider too. Try and put your arms down by your sides… You can’t do it bro, you’re too fucking big!!

Feel the last little bit of you grow now. You’ll have a cute face. Smaller nose. Shaggy, brown hair. Thick lips. And himbo energy! You’re all about yourself and the gym. You fuck anything that moves, but you’re an idiot. Try to think of a word with 3 syllables - you can’t do it. You don’t even know what a syllable is.

Here are some gym shorts and a baseball cap. Throw them on! No, no, no — put the cap on backwards. That's the kind of guy you are now! Do a pose for me. Perfect. It’s time to hit the gym! I love the new you.