I'd Like To Wish Being Transformed Into A Really Dumb Jock, And Gross, But Like, Literal, So Dumb I Can't

I'd like to wish being transformed into a really dumb jock, and gross, but like, literal, so dumb i can't even say what 2 + 2 is, and i so gross i constantly belch and fart non-stop cause i think its manly and its funny, could you do it, pleasee?

You want to be dumbest thing walking on two legs. Thats all I read when I seen this. So that’s what we are going to do. People will look at you really question how something so dumb could even exist. As soon as your wish leaves you mouth instantly you tongue acts on it own hanging out of your mouth like a dog. You try to pull it back in but you can’t ! No matter what you do your tongue just seems to be too big you mouth and your jaw squares itself and drops. You look in the mirror shocked. You didn’t think didn’t think it would happen this fast but you can’t deny it. You look dumb. You start to burn up as your body begins to generate more heat than you’re used to and sweat begins to pour on your body. As that happens a puddle begins to form under you from all the sweat dripping off your body and your body begins to bulk with muscle. Your arms balloon out as your chest pumps up. Your abs pull your waist in and become tight forming an incredible 8 pack. Your face begins to itch as a beard starts to grow on your dumb face as your hair darkens. Your arms become hairy and your legs begin to bulk. Becoming swallowed in a furry mass as well. You back widens and you are overcomed with being lightheaded you have to sit down. Sitting in front of the mirror in your own puddle of sweat you can’t help but notice right arm and pec begin to get dark as a tattoos begins to streatch their way up your arms and across your chest. You look down and see a tattoo form on your right leg as your feet begin to swell. You notice that as your feet get bigger your tongue begins to push out more. Lower. DUMBER! Your pants begin to get tight as your package seems to be connect to your feet to. The bigger they become the larger your member becomes. Your feet stop ground at a sweaty size 17. Your body is massive now. Dripping sweat. Your veins are bulging from all the mass you’ve gained and your skin even has a tanned color to it.

But even though you look dumb. You said you wanted to be DUMB! Like the definition of full blown dumbass. And intense migraine moved across your head as you brain cramps. Losing the ridges that hold knowledge. Smoothing out as you become a literal dumbass. But I’m not cruel. I’ll leave you able to function. Unable to read. Unable to do anything other than lift weight and be a dumbass. You belch signifying lift off of your new dumbass life. Not even aware how stupid you are. I’m not even sure if you remember how to walk with how dumb I’ve made you but a muscle body like needs to crawl anyway. You’ll repeat simple sentences but anything complex you’ll have a glazed look pass over your dumb face. Instantly lost in all the confusion. Even yelling like a wild animal because of the dumbass you’ve become. You manage to stand up and stagger as your stupid brain tries to understand what you’re doing. A loud fart shoots out of your tight bulbous butt while another burp comes out. Still sweating and pumping out some serious Bo. You’re going to be a sweaty gas machine. To dumb to do anything and impossible to learn anything. Enjoy the new life you big dumbass.

I wouldn’t be mad about these pop ups…!

Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

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Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

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*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

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*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

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*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

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*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

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*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

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*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

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*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

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It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

Oral #1

If anyone has a picture suggestion for this one, please send it to me.

“Follow me,” he said.

And so you followed, down a dark street and into a blackened alleyway, the only light coming   from a single lightbulb above a stairwell. He leads you up the concrete steps, through another corridor and through an apartment door.

He kisses you, as you hastily rush to kick off your shoes and jacket. With his lips still pressed against your own, he leads you into a bedroom.

He pushes you down on the bed and grabs at your waist. With a jolt, he tugs on your pants and underwear to force them down through your legs. You arch your back, allowing your pants to pass your knees and through your ankles and feet. He pulls your socks off as well, all in one free motion. 

Your pale cock lies exposed in the air, leaking slightly and stiffening. He tilts his head down down, his tongue gliding over the tip while his hand wraps around the shaft. You moan. With his other hand he reaches up under your shirt, searching for your nipple. You clumsily rush to take off your shirt, revealing your entire body to the air. You raise your arms to your head, brushing your head and reaching for the loose pillow above you.

“You will love it,” he lisps as his lips slide over your entire cock. 

You stretch and reach out across the mattress, shuddering at the touch of his tongue. It circles around the very top of your dick, pressing against the gland. As you reach, your knuckles crack and pop and your arms lengthen. Your hands get bigger and you ball them into a fist, grabbing the sheets to keep you sturdy. Still, he thrusts his mouth all over your penis, caressing it with his tongue. 

You lift your arms and watch the muscles expand. Your shoulders broaden and pop, becoming wider. The muscles in your chest grow too, resembling massive man tits, with huge round nipples to match. 

Your penis tingles with pleasure and he slurps on it happily. He rubs it with his hand causing you to stretch and writhe on the bed. As you flex your stomach eight massive abs muscles pop into place, erasing any evidence of belly fat. Your back cracks as your height increases. Your ass balloons and plumps and your thighs become meaty trunks of muscle. 

Your breathing hastens, and you reach down to your cock to finish yourself off. He forces your muscled arm down.

“Ay papi, not yet.” He says, as he gently strokes your lengthening brown shaft. “Just wait. Merecerá la pena.” (It will be worth it) 

Your skin begins to prickle and tingle. With your other huge hand, you rub your eyes as the sensation intensifies across your body. You notice your skin is darker in tone, with broad black lines crisscrossing the skin: new tattoos painting themselves al over your body. You have no time to examine them as he forces your thickening cock into the back of his throat. you lift your head from the bed, opening your mouth to exclaim in pleasure. A baseball cap materializes on your head, and diamond studs appear on your lobes. Your facial features turn more angular, and a moustache grows above your lips as the last remnants of your caucasian heritage turn latino. 

“Listo, papi?” (Ready, papi). He says.

You open your mouth, convulsing your new huge body from the pleasure. With one last pump and slurp on your thick latino cock you rain a shower of cum in to the air, into his mouth and onto your brown chest. 

You grin and smile, breathing heavily, wiping the sweat from your brow and feeling your new hide fade haircut. 

He crawls up your body and lays beside you. 

“¿Cómo estuvo eso papi?” (How was that papi?)

“Fue perfecto,” you reply.

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.

New Recruits

Drew and Riley are lifelong friends. They have been planning to join the military together since grade school. When they finally do enlist together, they realise they have signed up for more than they realise.

This is an MtoM and M to inanimate TF story.

“Congratulations gentleman, you are now part of the United States military!”

Our recruitment officer was smiling. A wave of pride and contentment washed over me. Drew however looked small and pale, sitting beside me in the same kind of cheap office chair. We were enlisting together, that had been the plan since freshman year. He was skinny, short and hunched over in his seat. But we were going to go through basic training together, and hopefully end up in the same unit after that.

“Riley and Drew, congratulations!”

He reached over and shook my hand first before stretching it out to Drew

“Follow me and we’ll get you set up,” the recruiter said as he shuffled the contract papers we had just signed into a plain manilla envelope.

We all stood up and I gave Drew a reassuring grip on his shower, he returned my gaze with a look of worry and anxiety.

“You good?” I asked him.

He nodded, “Yeah. I’m excited.”

We followed the recruiter down a corridor and into a room with two plain metal doors. One was marked “TF-CH1” and the other was “TF-CH2”. He pointed at the door on the left, TF-CH1. “Drew, you go in here.”

Drew nodded and stepped towards the door.

“Oh hold on son,” the recruiter said. “You need to strip.”

“All the way?” Drew asked, his voice full of hesitancy.

The recruiter nodded and looked at me. “You too. And you’ll go in the other door.”

He pointed at another nondescript metal door beside the one Drew was to use. It looked like we would be temporarily separated. We both undressed, tossing our clothing on the ground.

“What’s going to happen to our stuff?” I asked.

“Don’t worry,” the recruiter said with a sly smile. “You’re property of the U.S. military now. Everything you need will be provided to you.”

“Is that what’s behind the doors?” Drew said.

“Everything you need to be a solider in the United States military is behind those doors. You’ll come out as new men, I guarantee it!”

There was an unsettling tone behind the recruiter’s voice, but I figured it was my nerves. I gave a weary nod to the recruiter and stepped towards my door. With my fingers on the handle, I looked over at Drew. I saw a faint tremble in his arm as it extended out to the door handle. I made sure to concentrate on my own arm, to hide the tremble I had.

“See you in a minute?” I said, trying to sound less nervous than I was.

Drew nodded in reply and disappeared into the room. I followed suit.

-

The room was plain and industrial. A glass wall ran down the right side, separating an identical room on the other side. In the centre of each room was a metal grate that was surrounded by white tiles on the floor. A single strip of fluorescent lighting illuminated both sides of the room. The metal door closed behind me and clicked loudly as it locked.

I saw Riley on the other side of the glass, he was taking it in much like I was.

“Riley!” I yelled, but my voice did not reach him. He put his hand up to his ear and shook his head: the universal symbol for “I can’t hear you”. My voice just echoed around the room, but Riley still offered me a reassuring smile. He always had a way of calming me down in high-stress situations. We had been friends since the first grade, and had dreamed of being in the military together since we were ten years old — we were finally realising our goal together.

Looking over at Riley, his body looked amazing. I wasn’t gay, but seeing Riley’s broad shoulders, sculpted abs, powerful legs and arms was was a sight. His massive arms and pectoral muscles put my slender frame to shame. My body was pretty pitiful, but I knew my fitness journey in the military would be the start of something new.

I let out a long breath, and wondered what was going to happen.

Not a moment later, a pain began to radiate from the small of my back and moved upwards, along my spine, towards my shoulders and neck. I instinctively put my hands towards my back in reaction to the pain, only to be met with a similar pain in my arms and legs. I doubled over, hugging my torso, trying to ride out the discomfort. Every muscle in my body screamed in agony. As I hugged my stomach, I could feel the muscles on my arm get warm as the sensation shifted from a sharp pain to a wave of heat and tenseness.

I felt my biceps swell and grow bigger, becoming more defined and toned with muscle. It was becoming more difficult to hug my stomach with the added thickness in my arms. The muscles continued down my arms to my forearms and hands. Everything was growing bigger and stronger. In disbelief, I stood up straight, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the glass. Not only were my arm muscles thickening, but my shoulders were becoming widening out and becoming broader. My collar bone popped and stretched to accommodate my immense frame. I was beginning to resemble Riley’s hulking physique, except a little bigger. I was watching, in real time, muscles that should take weeks and months to carve and strengthen, pulsate and swell right in front of me. The increased muscle mass transitioned to my pecs as they became two larger slabs that pushed out of my chest. I had muscles on muscles on muscles!

“Woah,” I thought, flexing and feeling my new growth and strength. I marvelled in the changes that had happened. However, on the other side of the glass, I saw Riley was going through some changes too. I could see that he was lying on the ground, with a massive grin on his face. At his feet were a pair of tan coloured military boots. His legs were flattening and sketching a digital camouflage pattern across his skin.

Something clicked in my mind. I knew what was happening... I was becoming the solider and Riley would be my uniform. I was going to put him on and wear him in combat. He was my uniform.

Another pain carried down my spine and I saw the ground move away from me: I was growing taller. My hips and thighs thickened and my centre of gravity altered due to my new height and thicker muscle mass. I shifted my weight, steadying myself so I didn’t fall.

The area around my stomach thinned and became more defined and toned. A roll of fat just melted in a moment, leaving only a tingling sensation as the remaining muscle thickened. Each of my individual abdominal muscles widened and expanded until each muscle was like a small ridge on my lower abdomen. Every muscle in my lower core stretched and hardened, transforming my body into one of purpose.

Over on the other side of the glass, Riley had transformed fully below his waist now. Cargo pockets had filled out on his pants - my pants - and his top half was beginning to become my jacket and IOTV.

IOTV? Improved Outer Tactical Vest? How did I know the lingo already? I shook my head. A mental fog clouded over my brain. Parts of my mind, personality and identity faded and erased. I was no longer meek and mild-mannered; I am macho, manly and masculine. An obsession for exercise and fitness emerged as my strong body would need to be maintained and trained. My intelligence shifted and altered, and while I became less smart in some areas, my intuition and athleticism grew. Who needs books anyway? With my strength and solider instincts came an ability to follow orders and commands. I am a soldier, a trained killer, obedient and tough.

In the glass partition, my face was changing. My rounded facial features had hardened and roughened to match my hulking body. My hair shortened to the traditional jarhead/military high and tight style. A long colourful tattoo printed into my broad forearm and bicep, painting across my shoulder and pectoral. My vision turned cloudy and blurry until I realised I no longer needed my glasses and took them off, revealing perfect vision.

My penis lengthened and grew thicker in girth to match the increased length.

Continuing further down, my feet stretched and cracked and grew longer. Both of my legs gained thickness, widening up by at least an inch. The muscles burned as they stretched and toned into powerful trunk-like masses. I lifted and kicked my leg in awe.

Behind the glass, Riley had fully decompressed onto the floor. His top half lay slightly higher than his bottom half, due to the added bulk of the tactical vest and ceramic plates. His grinning face disappeared, opening up into a helmet and eye protection. He was done, which meant I was not far behind.

Finally, more changes headed to my head; new words and touch points erased my previous expressions and reference points. Military drills, commands, words and phrases filled my head. I was a solider. Hoo-rah.

I stood in the room, a different man than the one entered. I was a man with a purpose and built to last. I felt my hands across my body, learning every part. I felt ... complete.

-

The room was empty and bright. I saw a glass divider on the left side and watched as Drew took in his new surroundings at the name time as me. He looked so scrawny and slim. The military was going to toughen him up, but I would be there to help him.

“You okay?” I shouted, but my voice just echoed around the room. I saw him yell something at me, but I just put my hand to my ear to let him know I could not hear him. I smiled, mostly to reassure Drew, but also to reassure myself.

Drew continued to look around the room he was in, observing and analysing. I stood and waited. Surely someone would be around soon.

A numbness poked at my big toe. I tapped my foot against the ground. Numbness again, but now it had spread to more toes. I shook my foot, trying to recirculate the blood. The same numbness happened to my other foot, so I hopped around trying to get the blood flowing. After a few jumps, landing on the balls of my foot felt strange... I couldn’t feel the cold tile floor any more. I realised I was losing my balance and grip on the floor. I looked down and saw the beginnings of military combat boots forming over my feet. They were tan, with rough leathery material and laces. Quickly the material covered my entire foot, making it more boot- like.

I stumbled, losing my balance entirely, and fell flat on my backside. The boots came away revealing emptiness. What?

Something clicked in my mind. I knew exactly what I was and what was happening to me. I was a United States military uniform. My name wasn’t Riley — not anymore. Uniforms don’t have names. I was made to serve and protect. I was going to serve and protect Drew. I looked over at Drew, seeing that his own transformation was making him more muscular and fit. He would need to be strong to survive in combat.

My changes continued too. My feet had already become boots and now my legs were stretching and deflating into combat pants. The comforting sign of the digital camouflage pattern drew across my skin, painting over my body hair. My knee bones cracked and popped and transformed into a knee pads. They would at least be used in the same place they came from. My penis and crotch voided turning flat and textured with the same camouflage pattern as my lower legs. A new zipper formed in the area that rose up to my was it.

I ran my fingers across the fabric, feeling the material against my skin. The changes spread to my hands and torso, with the familiar camouflage pattern first sketching across my smooth, hairless skin, and my hands emptying of muscle and bone and turning into thin black gloves. I knew my final form was going to involve a lot of gear and extra pieces as Drew would need many things during combat missions. Aside from a shirt, he was going to need a tactical vest with ceramic plates, a camelback water bladder, and a helmet. All of that was going to have to come from somewhere, and with my lower half already completely changed, it meant my top half was going to be changing a lot.

My internal organs and bones began moving and shifting. My human existence was now firmly dead, with my mind only waiting the final changes. But the beginnings of that had already started as I fixated on a desire to be worn. From my spine and rib cage formed the tactical vest. It pushed out of my skin as a very hard mass, covering over the rest of my upper body that had already changed into the same material as the pants.

The vest bulked up my upper frame, causing my upper half to rise off the floor. Various ceramic plates formed from different organs and tissue, sliding into Velcro pockets within the

vest. A groin protector slid down from my stomach to cover Drew’s own groin. Two elbow pads popped out of my elbows, similarly to how the knew pads formed. A nameplate formed over my chest with Drew’s last name. Various other pouches and holders appeared as well, all attached to the IOTV, they were all covered in the same camouflage material. Inside the shirt, a tight tan-coloured compression shirt stretched and expanded out of the last remaining organic material that remained inside of me.

My hands deflated and flattened, the skin turning rough and textured. Protective plastic coverings emerged as my knuckles fused together into one.

I looked over at Drew with a huge grin on my face. I wanted to tell him how happy I was, how excited I was, but without lungs to breathe I had no air to make words. He was looking at me and had already changed so much. He was huge now and was bigger than I had been. His muscles were impressive, and he was much taller. He was almost completely transformed, but he couldn’t be a proper soldier until I was done.

My head expanded with creaks and groans as the bone and muscle shifted into kevlar and protective polyethylene. My face folded into the helmet, with the upper part of my eyes and nose becoming eye protection. With a massive rattle, the helmet rolled flat on the ground. It was done.

I was still going to serve in the military, and I was still going to protect Drew, it was just going to be a little different than how we had imagined it.

-

A buzzer sounded and the glass partition slowly raised up into the ceiling. I stepped into the second room to retrieve my uniform. Bending down, I felt the fabric between my huge hands. I knew it used to be Riley, but I also knew that he was serving his purpose now. I slipped on underwear, pants and the tan-coloured undershirt. The compression undershirt wrapped tightly around my hulking body and muscles. Next I put on the pants and boots, tying up the boots tightly. Instinctively, I tucked the knotted laces into the boot and bloused the bottoms of my pants above the boots as though I had done it a thousand times before. I buttoned up the shirt, running my hand over the patches, emblems and U.S. flag. I reached down and lifted the hefty tactical vest, lifting it with ease, and placed it over my head. After fastening the various pieces and accessories, I clipped the helmet to my head and donned the eye protection. I was missing my weapon, but I was ready for combat.

Once dressed, a new door opened and a large, intimidating man with no neck stepped through the new entry. It was my commanding officer. I stood to attention.

“Fresh meat! Soldier, you follow me to start your training!” “Sir! Yes sir!”

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!