Hi. I Saw That You Were Happy To Transform Some Guys. I Wouldn't Mind Getting The Ol' Hunkification Treatment.

Hi. I saw that you were happy to transform some guys. I wouldn't mind getting the ol' Hunkification treatment. Need a change in my life.

snap

Come here bro. Have a sit down. Let me take care of you. Take off your shirt, that’s it. And your pants too. Skinny jeans? Forget those. Gym shorts will be more your style.

Now, where to start. Hair? It’s all over you. Your chest, legs, face and arms. It’s not crazy unkempt, but you have a satisfying amount. Let’s make it a reddish-brown tint. You’re not a redhead, per say. But in the right light you can see it.

A nice hairy chest like yours needs pecs to go with it. Guys are gonna love curling their fingers around that fur of yours! They’ll follow it down your six pack stomach and into your hairy groin and dick. Glorious.

Let’s pump up your arms too. You spend a lot of time working on your chest, shoulders and arms. It’s paying off big time.

Just got the finishing touches … I’m thinking stink? A hairy guy like you needs sweat and musk to go with it. Have a whiff of those hairy pits of yours. Smells good, right?

Some days you just want to switch off.

Ever just wanna "turn it off?"

I'm always so in my head all the time, so anxious and thinking about my future and my past. I really wish there was an easy way to let go of all of that and be impulsive and in the moment. Gain some monster muscles and maybe learn a new language to go with it? Even better. I'm tired of me. Maybe you can help me turn off all the noise and turn into someone else?

You want to be a creature of impulse and live in the moment? Sure. I understand. You feel the genie’s steps shake the ground as he approaches your car. He’s huge, shirtless to show off his bouncy pecs and sexy gut. The passenger door unlocks as he grabs the handle, and he slides into the seat next to you.

Just being in close proximity to his masculinity, his massive, leaking cock and his big sweaty muscles has your higher brain functions switching off. You feel a bit of drool leak out the corner of your mouth as the genie slaps a snapback cap on your head.

All your worries and shit melt away as the magical cap dissolves your previous self. English vanishes from your mind, replaced quickly by Spanish. Even then, most of the words you know are dumb slang. You don’t need to be a poet to get on your knees.

A dark tan flows across your face from the edges of the cap, and your features grow, becoming masculine and handsome. A thick black moustache and beard grow to cover your lantern jaw. As the darker skin flows over your body, you bulk up with muscle and fat, just like the genie. The car settles a bit as your bouncy new muscle ass grinds into the seat. Your slutty holes are so hungry.

When the transformation is done, you lunge across the dashboard to latch onto the genie’s big, hard nipple. From now on, you always act to make sure that you get off as soon as possible. No second thoughts when your leaky Latino cock is making all the decisions.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for

Would love to rewrite this with more details one day.

Becoming My Classmates Brother

My classmate Enzo Ceja was so hot, everyone on our class thought so. He was everything you would expect, he played football, basket ball, and was so attractive. He was 6’3, Mexican, and had a pretty toned body. Me being one of the only gay boys in my class, obviously had a crush on him, and everything about him. I knew he was straight, but I couldn’t get him out of my head.

So one day at my school during lunch I was talking to my friend about Enzo, and how I wanted to be his boyfriend. Little did I know, admitting this crush would completely change my life. The next day when I got to school, I could feel everyone staring at me, and I knew why. Someone over heard me telling my friend about my stupid crush on Enzo.

Enzo’s Perspective

I was leaving football practice when I over heard some of my bros talking about Dan, the one gay boy in my class. Had told someone that he had a crush on me. Ew. I could never date a man, but since rumor had spread around the school. People were shipping us. I had to talk to that boy, and clear this up, before I get clicked of the team. And I know just how to fix this.

Dans Perspective

As I walked into school, Enzo grabbed my head and pulled me into the locker room. As soon as he knew we were alone he started rambling on, about how he doesn’t even like the idea that a man likes him. Then he slapped me, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I felt different. I looked down, and saw legs that we’re definitely not mine, they were darker, and a lot more athletic then my fat, white legs. I got up fast and looked in the mirror.

I looked in the mirror, and instead of myself, I saw someone that looked like Enzo, but older. I was his older brother, I pulled out my id and on it was “Daniel Ceja” Which was definitely not my name before. Somehow I had turned into the older brother of the man I once liked. And I’m not complaining, if I couldn’t have him, being him was just as good, if not better.

“Hey bro get your keys! I’m going to be late for school!”

Obvious, I was Daniel Ceja, and Enzo is my younger brother. I have to give him a ride to school.

Someday I want to rewrite this whole story with a detailed transformation. That AI image is yew!

Hello, is this support? I’ve been trying to find your contact info for the longest time now. My name is Chris, I’m not the owner of your product, my best friend Mason is. He and I got into our first huge fight a few days ago. I’ve been pretty down lately and he was trying to encourage me, but nothing he was saying was really working. So he got fed up, pulled out your Chronivac product, and used it on me! I didn’t feel or notice anything at first, but now that a few days have gone by I’ve noticed that I’ve been getting taller, my skin has been darkening to this golden tan, and my facial features look more and more Japanese rather than Mexican. I… I think he’s turning me into him! I showed up at his house earlier today to confront him about it, but when he answered the door his muscles were huge! His clothes barely fit him! And he’s gotta be taller now too! I felt a tingle in my chest and watched in real time as my pecs expanded right before our eyes and he just looked at me with lustful excitement, saying something about how I’m “turning out to be such a hot twin.” Surely this is an abuse of your product and goes against your Terms of Service! He can’t just turn me into his twin and grow us for his pleasure!

Now… First of all… I'm afraid… I'm probably too late to intervene. Pedro and Miguel Watanabe. Fitness bloggers, personal trainers, and models. Whether you wanted it or not… Fate isn't so terrible now, is it?

As for your actual question about the legal situation, it's actually a bit tricky… Your brother took out a family license when you were not yet brothers. It can only be used by family members. So before the transformation was completed, his actions were actually illegal. He transformed you against your will, but then cured it legally.

If you don't want to shake up the world of influencers as a super hot Blasian, please contact us again. I am sure our legal department will come up with a solution. But seriously, is this really what you want?

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?) 

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing  accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly. 

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?” 

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own. 

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

Here's a request from @physical-lust

Sorry it took so long! Hope you like it!

-- -- --

Alec sighed as he logged onto FaceTime, getting ready to talk to his classmate, Van. 

The two of them had been close friends back in high school, however, they quickly drifted apart when they went to college. Despite going to the same school, Alec had received a baseball scholarship, and therefore tended to hang out solely with his fellow teammates, living it up as the stereotypical American jock. On the other hand, Van had opted to follow in the new, mysterious paranormal tract at school. The diverting paths had caused the once close buddies to become strangers.

Which was why Alec wasn’t too keen on asking Van for some tutoring help with his Biology class. Due to his focus being on partying and trying to fuck all the girls on Sorority Row, Alec had let his grades slip and he was at risk of losing his scholarship. Van had always had impressive grades all throughout high school, so he was the one Alec had contacted.

It didn’t take long for the app to connect, and Van popped up on the screen. 

The physical differences between the two young men was also noticeable. Whereas Van was slender and wore thick glasses to help him read the numerous textbooks for his advanced classes, Alec’s body was blessed with toned muscle. Alec had a perfectly proportional body with toned pecs and a perky butt. His shaggy brown hair and sparkling blue eyes made him look like a model ripped straight from an Abercrombie & Fitch bag; and he made sure to use that to his advantage. The jock had scores of women falling over at his feet (and a few men, but he didn’t pay them any attention). Even now on his FaceTime chat with his tutor/friend, he wore a tight t-shirt that displayed his impressive chest.

“Hey there, Alec,” Van happily waved on the screen. “Long time no see, right?” In the background, Alec could barely make out a treasure trove of large books, all of them looking ancient and like they’d take years to finish. The lighting was so dim that he couldn’t make out the rest of Van’s dorm, but he could see a fancy-looking candle flickering on the desk next to Van’s open Biology textbook. There were ornate carvings on it, and the way the yellow flame danced was almost mesmerizing and Alec had to snap himself away from staring at it.

“Yeah, hey, how’s it goin’?” Alec mumbled, trying to keep this tutoring session quick so that he could go nail the girl in his English class. He snatched his textbook and flipped it open to the chapter on the citric acid cycle. “So I was having some trouble with—”

“We have plenty of time for that,” Van said, waving a thin hand dismissively. “How’s your year been going? I’ve been really busy with my studies, but it’s totally worth it. One of my professors even asked me to be his personal assistant and we’ve been studying all sorts of ancient artifacts that have been used in all of these ceremonies.”

“Wow, that’s so interesting…” Alec huffed, trying not to let his annoyance show since Van was technically doing this for free.

“It really is,” Van blabbered, oblivious. He paused, a slight smile on his face. 

The candle flickered in intensity, the yellow light growing in fervor and shining even brighter. 

“Y’know,” Van began, “I’m actually really liking your new look. Blond is a good color for you.”

Blond?

Alec cocked his eyebrow in confusion, knowing that his hair was brown, not blond. He shrugged it away and chalked it up to Van’s thick glasses not really helping his sight. Poor guy. “Uh, sure,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

The two of them began to go over some of the notes on the science chapter, with Alec having a difficult time keeping up with Van’s teachings. Much to his chagrin, Alec was starting to feel a little slow, having a hard time grasping the highlights of the section in his textbook. He scrunched up his face as he stared at the chemical formulas, none of them making even the slightest bit of sense to him.

Alec scratched at the back of his head in irritation, trying to not let his frustration show on his face.

Van could pick up on it through, and playfully said, “Don’t worry, Alec. I know that some things are a little hard for you to understand.”

The fog seemed to deepen in Alec’s mind, completely destroying any chance of him understanding anything during this tutoring session. The more Alec looked at the textbook, the dumber he felt. He struggled to piece together the information in the book, but could barely recall anything he’d learned at all in class… that is, when he bothered to go to class.

Van shrugged his thin shoulders. “At least you have a deal with the professor,” he added. “It’s nice of him to pass you just for a daily blow job.”

Alec jerked back in his chair in shock, confused by what Van was saying. He didn’t have some sort of sexy deal with his Biology professor. The teacher was a large man in his early fifties, with a trimmed beard and thick salt-and-pepper colored hair. He was a total daddy of a man, always dressed in suits that showed off his nice muscle gut.

Memories of himself down on his knees, with his face shoved into the older man’s crotch started to filter into Alec's mind. His heart starting to speed up in his chest, Alec ran a shaky hand through his hair as he easily pictured himself moaning loudly under the desk as he sucked off his professor, eagerly swallowing down his entire load that he shot down his hungry throat. 

Despite himself, Alec squirmed in his seat as he felt his own cock start to harden at the memory. His impressive seven inches plumped up to full size, tenting out his workout shorts noticeably. It throbbed with want under his desk, and Alec had to fight with himself to keep his hands above the desk.

“I, uh, I didn’t know many knew about that,” Alec heard himself mutter, blushing at the words that left his mouth.

Van chuckled. “Everyone knows that,” he laughed. “You love to show off and act like a total slut in front of everyone, remember?”

The candle flickered some more.

Alec paled as his cock throbbed even more. The hunk began to squirm around in his seat as he suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. The fog in his brain seemed to intensify, and all of a sudden Alec wanted nothing more than to peel out of his overbearing clothes— just being so covered up felt sweltering. Even though it was autumn, Alec feel as if he were wearing a parka in ninety degree weather, and he tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, stretching it as low as he could.

“Everything alright?” Van asked, a smirk detectable in his voice.

“Um, y-yeah,” Alec stammered, still unable to relax. Something deep in his gut told him that he shouldn’t be getting undressed in front of another guy, but he’d already torn his shirt away from his chest before registering it. 

The mere second that his pecs were out in the open, Alec felt leagues better. The cool air in his dorm made his nipples perk up and a dull grin formed on his handsome face, and before he knew it, his hands were already shimmying his shorts down to the ground. 

Alec’s face scrunched up in confusion as he sat at his desk, wearing nothing at all since he usually freeballed. His still throbbing cock bobbed in front of him, a bead of precum forming at the head. No matter how wrong he felt this scenario was, he couldn’t deny that there was a spark of excitement that rippled through him.

Van’s eyes got bigger as he looked the jock up and down.

Alec noticed that he’d been bouncing his pecs, blushing a little when he’d been made aware… but he didn’t stop.

The two of them continued to go over a few more science problems in the textbook, Alec having immense trouble concentrating. All of the long words on the pages seemed to blur together and he’d quickly get distracted by flexing a bicep or crunching his abs for the camera on his laptop.

The candle’s light shined brighter.

Van cleared his throat as Alec ran a hand over his pecs. “Lookin’ big there,” he commented. “Those tits are getting some serious size.”

If he hadn’t been watching, Alec wouldn’t have believed that his pecs would magically grow. However, the stunned stud went slack jawed as he witnessed his toned pectorals shudder before ballooning out from his chest. They grew larger and rounder as they jutted off of him. Even his nipples enlarged, going from tiny and perky to huge and nubby.

“Wh-what?!” Alec panicked as he palmed his giant muscletits, wincing at how they filled his hands and how he couldn’t see anything below them as they blocked his view. “What’s happening?!”

His heart raced in his chest even faster as he groped his large chest, his cock still throbbing despite his fear. His slow head started to piece together what was happening: all of his weird behavior and foreign memories.

Alec stared up at Van who only grinned from ear to ear on the screen.

“You son of a bitch!” he growled. “What are you doing to me?”

Van simply shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious, Alec?” he teased. “I was growing tired of being ignored by my supposed friend, so I decided to turn you into my own personal himbo.”

“Himbo— ohhh!” Alec snorted before getting distracted by accidentally brushing his hand over an incredibly sensitive nipple. The stud couldn’t hold back his slutty moan, and before he could react, he reached up with his other hand and thumbed his nubby nipples, all the while moaning loudly for the whole floor of his dorm to hear. He knew that he should be angry and demand that Van stop turning him into a himbo, but the pleasure was too much for his dimwitted mind to ignore. He couldn’t stop playing with his chest and pursing his lips like the slut he was turning into.

“See?” Van laughed. “It’s not so bad. And just think about how great it’ll be with that big booty of yours.”

“Uughhh!” Alec moaned as he squirmed in his seat, feeling himself lift up higher as his butt grew bigger. The altered hunk shoved himself away from the desk and stared into the section of the app that showed his own camera feed.

Alec paled as he examined this new reflection. His pecs were massive and the huge nipples they were capped with made him look like some morphed pic off of a fetish site. Not to be outdone, his ass was massive! The meaty cheeks had to have grown at least three times their normal size, rounding out and creating a perfect shelf from his back. As he swiveled his hips, he watched his booty jiggle and shake, in constant motion. The handsome jock had gone from toned to curvy in a matter of seconds. He also noticed that his brown hair was now a bright blond, just as Van had mentioned earlier.

And his hard cock spasmed as he looked at his new himbo form.

“Y-you can’t leave me like this!” Alec pleaded as he envisioned himself out on the baseball field, running around with his huge pecs and bubblebutt hindering his every movements. But then he thought about being in the locker room with all of the other jocks, showing off his warped body in the showers and having all of them either fuck him or let him suck them off— and his cock throbbed even more at the thought.

“I won’t leave you like that,” Van smirked. “Besides, there’s nothing hotter than a slutty himbo jock who’s a strict bottom. So…”

“Hnnghh!” Alec grunted as he tensed up, his pecs and ass bouncing in tandem as he came. His large seven inch cock spewed out cum. It twitched as he came, throbbing and spasming from his orgasm.

But then the jock went wide-eyed as he kept cumming, and his cock kept throbbing— and at the pinnacle of each throb, his large cock yanked itself back into his body, drastically dropping in size.

“Ugghh! Whaaat’s happening to meee?!” Alec moaned as his previously sizable cock dwindled out of sight, his large pecs blocking it from view. The stud reached down and gasped as he felt his rod get smaller and smaller in his hand. He couldn’t see them over his chest, but even his balls grew smaller, starting to look more like little grapes that were tight against his skin. His little cock settled on a pathetic three inches, looking incredibly out of place on Alec’s muscled frame; but as the himbo jock continued to cum, he relished in his pleasure, all fear evaporating from his dim mind.

A dull grin formed on Alec’s handsome face, and Van knew that the changes were about done.

Where a toned baseball playing jock had been just moments before, was a total slutty himbo who was built solely to get other men off. His massive pecs, big bubblebutt, and tiny cocklet illustrated that he was now the perfect bottom on campus, eagerly taking cock after cock.

The altered hunk swayed on his feet, the fog in his brain growing thicker by the millisecond and making it hard to think coherently. 

“Well, well,” Van smiled, admiring his work, “it looks like my little experiment was success. You’re now nothing but a dumb himbo. I don’t think that people will recognize you anymore, Alec. So why don’t we call you something else, huh? How about Brad? Brad the Buttslut? How’s that sound?”

Alec screamed on the inside as he felt himself being locked in a tight box, Brad the Buttslut taking over. The slutty himbo smiled widely and couldn’t help but flex his large arms above his head when he noticed that he was on camera. His pert little nub went hard, almost concealed by the stud’s big thighs.

“Why don’t you come over to my dorm and I’ll fuck that big slutty butt of yours?” Van beckoned.

“I’m on my way!” Brad happily agreed, snatching an unfamiliar jockstrap off of his dresser and yanking it on. The front pouch was loose and baggy, but the hunk’s enormous bubblebutt jutted out the back noticeably. Brad then thrusted his chest out with pride and sauntered out of the dorm and out onto the hall, loving all of the eyes that locked in on his himbo form.

Nobody could tell, but Brad’s tiny cock was rock hard as he waddled down to the hallway to his best friend, Van’s, dorm, throbbing as he anticipated getting his big butt stuffed full. Brad was such a huge buttslut, and he loved every second of it.