Dude. Please Make Me Into A Huge Fucking Himbo!! I Blow My Wad At Your Tfs All The Time.

dude. please make me into a huge fucking himbo!! i blow my wad at your tfs all the time.

snap

I'm honoured you would get off on my powers. It is what they're for, after all! Let's set you up with the ultimate jerk off.

We’ll take it from the bottom up. Close your eyes, stroke that cock of yours, and follow my words. By the time I'm done, you'll be a completely new man! Relax and enjoy yourself.

Feel your feet start to tingle? Creating some pressure in your socks and shoes? They're getting bigger, longer and stronger. That warmth is starting to slowly travel up your legs, making them to twitch and flex beneath you. 

Actually, let’s get you out of those clothes. With you stripped down, I can watch those muscles of yours grow in real time. Maybe I'll stroke my cock along with you.

Now that you're naked, let's keep going. Keep stroking your dick. That's it. Picture your dick, hard and leaking in your hand, growing thicker and longer with each stroke. Feel the heavy weight of your balls, full of cum, swinging between your legs as they draw up closer to your body. Feels good, right?

Your calves are growing now, the muscles hardening into solid columns of power. And your knees ... far too knobly. I'm going to make them powerful so they sit perfectly below your thighs. Speaking of your thighs, oh man, they're gonna be something else. Feel the muscles there expanding, becoming dense and powerful? These are the kind of legs that could crush a watermelon or thrust for hours!

That's it, keep rubbing your dick. It's okay to slow down as you feel these changes. Just don't cum until I say so.

I want to really indulge in your ass. The globes of your butt should be rounder and firmer. A perfect handful! Clench and release your muscles as you stroke your cock, imagining someone grabbing onto your transformed ass as they fuck you senseless. You fucking love it, you himbo slut.

I'm gonna move to your chest and arms. A himbo like you needs a huge chest. Take a deep breath as your pecs swell outward, your nipples hardening into stiff peaks. They might be a little more sensitive. You should check though. Go ahead and tweak them a little while you rub your cock. I bet that feels good, right?

Your arms are have to be more defined and vascular with the muscles pulsing with power. Your shoulders are broadening, with the bones shifting and reshaping to support your increasing mass. I think I'll make your neck thicker, so it can support the weight of your expanding head.

Speaking of your head... I'm going to square up that jaw and make those lips thicker too. How do you feel about facial hair? A himbo like you will need just a little bit of scruff.

You're breathing heavy now. Don't worry, we're almost done. Look at your dick leaking. Get ready to finish up - your mind is feeling lighter now. All your "big" thoughts are fizzling out and draining to your balls. From now on you're just care about gym, food and fucking. You ready?

Cum for me, bro. Show me what I've done to you. Let it all out—your cum, your smarts, everything that made you the man you used to be. You are a new you: a huge, musclebound himbo who lives for the lift, the pump, and the endless pursuit of pleasure. Welcome to the good life dude.

I love firefighter TFs.

Fire Captain Benedict

(Content: Age Progression, Muscle Growth, Body Hair, Beard Growth, Firefighter TF, Musk TF, Clothes TF, Uniform TF, Forced TF)

The intense summer heat of the day slowly gave place to the warm air of the summer night at the fire station. The firefighters, after an exhausting day of draining missions, were finally returning from their daily battles, their faces showing the fatigue and their big bodies fully drenched in sweat. The air was thick with the strong scent of smoke and the musk of their hard labor. Not that they cared about it, it was just a souvenir of their bravery.

As they entered, they passed by a van of a company of electrical services, that was pulled up in front of the station. “They still didn’t fix that shit?” Rick, one of the firemen, mumbled in annoyance.

Outside the van, three electricians were preparing their equipment for another night of attempts to fix the issues of the station. Accompanying the electricians, there was also a slender, scrawny young man, barely 20 years old, called Ben. This was his first major job as an intern, and he didn’t know what to expect of such an overwhelming place. Since he was hired, all he did was stay locked in a boring office all day, so he was happy to finally go out in a mission. Ben even got to wear a hi-vis suit for the first time, and he was particularly excited about this part.

Ben had always been a curious guy, and he wanted to explore the fire station. As the electrician team began unloading their tools, one of them handed Ben a checklist.

"Stay close. This place is a maze and we don't want to lose you."

Ben nodded in agreement, but his curiosity was winning against his desire to obey the orders and cause a good impression on his first mission. The huge fire station, with its huge trucks and handsome men, caught his attention too quickly. As the electricians were busy checking the station’s electrical systems, Ben found himself wandering through the corridors, sneaking into rooms to look at all the cool equipment.

As he passed by the firemen, he couldn’t help but notice how burly and manly they were. They might train a lot. At the same time, he started to feel too small and out of place among all of them. His hi-vis gear was giving a few more confidence, but not enough to even compete against the firemen around him in their imposing uniforms.

b‘Are beards a requirement to be a firefighter now?’ he asked himself as he realised that many of the men were proudly showing their dense facial hair. He felt like he could taste all of the testosterone in that place, and it was suffocating.

As he walked, taking looks at every corner and details of the building, Ben eventually stumbled into the dressing room. The smell hit him first, a potent mix of sweat, smoke, musk and rubber. The room was filled with firefighters stripping off their gear after their long shift, with their faces marked by exhaustion and frustration. They looked up as Ben entered, not expect to see the skinny intruder.

"Hey, look who’s here," called out one of the firefighters, the burly man named Rick. "A little lost, right?"

Ben felt a bit of embarrassment but tried to keep his composure. "Hey, sir. I’m just, uh, checking things out," he said, showing his checklist and forcing a deep voice.

Rick’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he sized up the skinny intern. Shirtless, he was almost touching Ben’s face with his big chest. The smell of sweat was intoxicating. Rick took the checklist out of his hand to take a look, and then put it away. Then, he laid his eyes on Ben’s uniform, the loose hi-vis suit.

“Checking things out, huh? Are you sure you’re not here to take a look at how an actual work gear is supposed to look like?"

The room got filled with menacing looks, too harsh and mocking. Ben's face turned red as he tried to think of a response, but his mind went blank.

Another firefighter, a tall man named Dave, stepped forward.

"Hey, Rick, maybe we should give the kid a real taste of the action. You know, to make him feel welcome."

Rick’s mean smile widened.

“That’s a great idea, Dave." He pointed to a pile of dirty, sweat-soaked firefighting suits in the corner. "How about you put one of these on, young man?"

“No, Rick. Get him our special one.” Dave said as he went to a separate locker and took out a full firefighter gear. It looked heavy, big and dirty. Not only dirty, but its smell quickly consumed the already musky room. The gear had the smell of strong body odour, men’s body spray and salty sweat, sweat that seemed to be stuck in the suit for weeks if not months.

Ben hesitated, sensing the mockery but feeling too intimidated to refuse. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm just an intern…”

"An intern, huh?" interrupted Rick. "Well, if you want to learn, you gotta put yourself in the shoes of actual labor. Put it on and let’s see.”

The firefighters crowded around Ben, their laughter consumed his ears as they threw that dirty suit near his feet. The gear was grimy, reeking of smoke and sweat, the fabric stiff with the residues and fluids of all the men that had ben inside it.

"Go on, dude," Rick urged, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Show us what you’re made of."

With trembling hands, Ben began to put it on. As soon as he took a closer look, se noticed that those men weren’t using that gear for work, but rather something else. He paralysed as he noticed the cum stains inside the pants and inside the boots. Stains that had been building up for several days.

“Don’t waste out time, boy.” Rick said and the other men got around him. No way that he could leave that place without doing what they asked.

He slowly started to dress up. The boots were too big, the pants were too heavy and loose for his thin legs. They were also too heavy for him to even move.

“Let me help you out, bro.” Another firefighter got behind him and took off Ben’s bright hi-vis vest and jacket. “Get a taste of what a real hard working man should wear.”

Ben wasn’t expecting that the man behind him would also grab his t-shirt to take it off, exposing his slender frame to all those muscular men.

“Hey, you gotta put this on first.” Dave took off his own uniform t-shirt, and used it to wipe off the sweat on his forehead before giving it to Ben. “You gotta pay respect to the uniform.”

The shirt was wet and warm. Way too loose. Rick put the suspenders on his shoulders and helped him to wear the heavy firefighter jacket. As soon as he saw it, his faced turned into disgust as there was also cum stains inside the jacket. Rick closed it up on Ben’s body. The gear was too heavy for him to even move and the jacket hung off him like a sack. He could feel the dampness of the sweat and cum that had been sealed into the suit, sticking to his skin. The firefighters’ laughter grew louder as he struggled with the gear.

"Look at him!" shouted Dave. "He can’t even stay standing. Maybe we should call his mommy to give a help."

"I-I can do it," Ben muttered, trying to ignore their bullying, feeling an urge to prove himself to those guys.

"Oh, he's got some spirit," said another firefighter, a bald man named Sam. "Maybe he could be our new mascot. Or a new place for us to put our cum since this gear is too over-worn already. What do you think, Rick?"

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, he wouldn’t last a day here. He’s just a weak dude playing dress up. But he can be our new cum sock once he builds up a little.

"I bet he can't even lift a hose," Dave said with a smirk. "Probably doesn't even know the difference between a nozzle and a hydrant."

Ben couldn’t stand the rancid air, the despair, humiliation and discomfort.

“Let’s see how much weight you can handle.” Sam got closer carrying a bunch of firefighting equipment. A belt was wrapped around us body and so was a heavy backpack with a tank for oxygen. Finally, Sam took a helmet on the floor and put Ben’s small head.

As soon as the helmet touched his hair, his scalp started to itch. Then, a sudden and inexplicable energy spread throughout his body. His heart skipped a beat, and a strange warmth grew from his chest outward. He got nauseous from the weight of the gear as his body began to change. The laughter around him faded as the firefighters started to witness an unexpected scene.

“What's happening to him?" Dave whispered.

Rick stared with wide eyes. "What the fuck."

Each step of those changes were followed by intense pain and pressure. I’m front of the firemen’s eyes, Ben’s body stretched and shifted, and the oversized gear gradually started to fit him perfectly. His bones ached as they grew, his muscles burned as they swelled with newfound strength, exploding in size. He gritted his teeth as the pain intensified, and his body trembled as his height towered all the men in that room.

Suddenly, Ben felt a strange tingling on his scalp. He reached up and took off the helmet, running his fingers through his hair as it began to thin and recede. He could feel the strands slipping away, leaving his scalp exposed. The sensation was both weird and oddly freeing, like shedding an old skin. His hairline crept back more and more.

"Look at his hair!" Sam said, in awe and horror. "It’s falling!"

Ben’s face contorted with the pressure as more changes were happening. His skin toughened, becoming rough and tanned, as if it was refined by years of exposure to hard labour and elegant maturity. Lines of age and wisdom carved themselves deeper around his eyes and mouth. He felt his jawline grow more pronounced, his cheekbones sharper. Within moments, he was completely bald, the gleaming scalp reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. A thick, dense beard sprouted across his face in a contrast to his smooth scalp.

His face wasn’t the only place to be covered by a forest of thick hair. Underneath his t-shirt, that was perfectly fitting to his body now, chest hair was sprouting wildly all around his new massive muscles. The hair spread to his arms, shoulders, back, legs and his newly grown bulge. It was itchy and felt like burning.

"Wh-what are you?" Rick stepped back, shocked by what he be just seen.

Ben's thoughts raced as he tried to comprehend the miraculous transformation he just went through. The pain had been intense, but the result was astonishing. He felt powerful, confident, and fuelled by a sense of purpose he had never known before. The sudden and violent loss of his youth (and hair) was disorienting and disturbing. He was hit by a momentary panic about the permanent disappearance of his old and familiar self. But he also felt free. Free from his weakness and lack of confidence. Free from his small young frame that could never make anyone take him seriously. Free from his self imposed limited and finally ready to become the man that has always been hidden inside his youthful body. His mind welcomed those new strength and wisdom, a sense of authority and leadership that overshadowed his initial shock and fear of what had happened.

"I'm Captain Benedict now," he declared in a deep and commanding voice. He didn’t know where it was coming from or how did he even get this new posture. Now, all those firemen looked younger, smaller and shorter than him, and they all lifted their heads to look to him in the eye.

The room fell silent, the laughter and mockery were replaced by awe and disbelief. Rick and the others nodded quickly, their eyes wide with astonishment. Benedict was confused. What new prank was that? Were they all pretend to obey him just to pull another joke?

Dave, swallowing hard, finally found his voice. "Captain Benedict... what do you want us to do?"

Captain Benedict stepped forward with his imposing presence. Part of him was still suspicious of what was happening but the other accepted his role as a fire captain.

“First, you can start by cleaning this mess. And start acting like the adult men you are. There's no place for this behaviour in this station."

Sam nodded in shame. "Yes, Captain. We're sorry."

Rick, still stunned by the transformation he had just watched, lowered his head. "It won't happen again, Captain. We promise."

"Promises aren't enough. You'll all be on thin ice from now on. Any mistakes and you're out. Do I make myself clear?" The captain’s eyes hardened.

"Yes, Captain!" the firefighters said together with fear and respect and stepped aside, humbled and respectful, to make way for their new captain, who proudly wore that gear he was forced to wear.

On the outside, the electricians had finished their inspection and were starting to pack their stuff to go back.

"Where's the kid?" one of them asked the other as they noticed Benedict’s absence.

Before anyone could answer, they heard the door behind them being opened. Captain Benedict walked out, completely different from less than an hour before, but the resemblance was still there. He approached the electricians, his old coworkers, who stared at him in disbelief.

"Ben? Is that you?" Tom finally managed to ask, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe.

"It'’s Benedict, now. Captain Benedict.” the captain replied with a slight smile on his lips. "Thank you for your work. Our issues on the station are finally fixed."

The electricians stood in shock, as their memories started to twist to accommodate this new event in their lives. They finished packing their tools and left, still processing the event they had witnessed. The captain, who was nothing more than a useless intern, was right. The issue was fixed, they just needed a captain to put things in place.

Sometimes I look into the mirror and hate how short and chubby I am. Is there something you can do to change that?

snap

Hey little buddy, I'm sorry you're so down on yourself. Let's see what I can do to help you out, shall I?

Your legs are getting thicker and more muscular. I'll thin out your stomach and harden it with some abs. Go ahead and flex them, run your fingers across your flat stomach. All that chub is gone. You like?

But look at your chest! It's expanding, growing and pushing out, right in front of your eyes. Massive man-tits. But don't worry, it's all muscle. That muscle will continue into your arms and shoulders. You've got a massive top shelf now.

Can I alter your face? Wait, why am I asking for permission. Let's add some facial hair: a tight and tidy moustache and a goatee? Short, curly hair on top. Dark hair, yeahhh that's it! Oh baby, we're gonna have to go all out now. Your skin is getting darker. A dark caramel-like brown.

And done! You're still short, but at least you're not short and chubby — you're short and muscular!

Inspired from your profile picture I wonder if it's possible to become a professional icehockey player too. I know they are quite dumb but they are famous, rich and have a lot of time enjoying their life. maybe they have a secret crush on a team mate but hiding it when dating cheerleaders, models and so on. Is there a way to exchange my life for one of them?

snap

So you want to be a hockey player, huh? First of all, you're way too small. You need to be BIGGER, much bigger. Like, 230 pounds of pure, tough fucking muscle. Yeah, that's better. What do you think of that? Look at yourself! Feel the raw power in your arms, your thighs, your core. Man, you're a big boy now. Go ahead and look at that ass I've made for you! From now on you'll be getting pants tailored for that ass — no more off the rack pants for you!

But I do have to take away some intelligence. You'll be saying "um" and "er" a lot, especially in those post-game interviews.

Take a look at yourself now. Built for strength, speed and shooting pucks. Get out on the ice and show them who's boss.

Wondering if this position is still available?

1:1

"You're my 1:30?"

Leo nearly jumps out of skin and looks up at the CEO in front of him.

"Y-Yes."

Leo fumbles as he stands up, awkwardly shoving his sweaty palm for the man to shake. The man, Costas Mandelieu, is not only hot as fuck, but also the CEO of some hugely popular coffee company that has a bunch of locations around the country. Leo remembered there being a location on campus before he graduated, and then noticing a rather large influx of hot gay men walking around campus. The place became this kind of second gay bar.

And he never stepped foot inside.

He was confident he would've been laughed right out the door. Everyone there was thickly built meatheads or otherwise muscular jocks. And Leo? Leo was a chubby little nerd who kept his head down so no one would notice him. Granted, the guys walking in and out of the coffee shop looked big and intimidating but they were genuinely some of the nicest (and dumbest) people Leo had ever spoken to.

But still, one too many cruel rejections later has taught Leo not to judge books by their covers.

"Pleasure to meet you."

Costas' voice is rich, deep, coming right out of his thick chest. Leo tries to ignore the flush of horny bashfulness that overtakes him. This is professional. The job interview that could set him up for life.

Costas' smile, warm and inviting, sends a flurry of butterflies in Leo's stomach as he follows Costas to his office. Inside, it's all warm wood and the smell of a rich, cedarwood air freshener hits his nose. It's the most beautiful space Leo has ever been in, and he gawks at everything openly as Costas shuts the door behind him.

Imposter syndrome sets in like a knife. Surely there's other candidates out here? Why him? And....is his hand on Leo's lower back? This close Leo can smell him - his expensive cologne, the heady smell of masculine sweat underneath - as Costas gently guides the befuddled man some leather chairs by his desk. He motions for Leo to sit and he does, confused and feeling a not entirely unwelcome horniness settle in his body. Costas makes a glass of tea. Leo closes his legs as he watches Costas sit and rearrange himself, his massive bulge obvious through his slacks.

"Now this position is a very intimate lifetime position with me, so I don't want you to get caught off guard if I ask some personal questions."

Leo nods and looks around. The job description was so coy with details he wouldn't be surprised (or upset) if Costas was asking him to be a personal sex toy.

"Ready?"

Costas smiles again and Leo's insides melt.

Focus.

"Yes."

Costas clears his throat. He takes a sip from his tea and sets it down again. The tea smells....weird. A funky odor normally associated with the gym seems to waft from the cup. It's not gross....but it does increase the haze of horniness that's really taking root in Leo's head.

Focus.

"So how old are you Leo?"

"23."

"23?" Costas whistles as if this is some impressive age. "I remember when I was your age I had a hair trigger at the best of times."

It all happens so fast.

One second he's listening to Costas, then the next he's gasping for air, clutching onto the chair's armrest and trying to stifle his moans as his cock shoots to full attention and makes a very, very obvious imprint on his jeans. Even worse: his cock starts firing like a hose, a huge wet spot spreading across his crotch.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm so sorry. I don't -."

He lifts his crotch in the air as he cums, as if he's angling for one of the ropes of cum he's firing to splatter on the floor. The entirety of his dick and balls is lit up with warmth like a Christmas tree of pleasure. Costas holds up his hands and makes placating, calming a startled horse gestures.

"It's alright. No really it's okay. You didn't masturbate today, did you?"

No. No he didn't.

That's why he's so pent up.

When he finally stops cumming, he settles down and tries to cover the huge wet spot on his jeans. God he can smell it from here. And it's so much. He's never produced that much cum before, right? He sits down and when he readjusts himself, his eyes widen when he notices that his balls feel much bigger than they should, their weight is obvious and pressing down on the chair.

"How often do you usually masturbate?"

"Onc - uh - four times a day usually. Wait that's not true."

"I understand. I've got a pair of knockers down there as well."

With that, Leo's balls swell further. His cock once again springing to attention as his nuts droop and sag under their weight. Half of his bulge now seems to be made of his churning, swelling balls. He feels like he's being edged, cock dancing just on the edge of a lightning rod orgasm before pulling back. He's grinding his flabby ass against the seat, trying to relieve the sudden sexual pressure. He's white-knuckling the chair and gritting his teeth as beads of sweat drip down his forehead. He brings his knees together tight.

"What the fuck is - huff huff - happening?"

"An interview."

"No, something's ... Oh...."

Leo's cock begins raining pre. He can feel it travel up his cock and ooze out of the swollen mushroom head at the top. It doesn't help either that Costas is touching his own cock, the massive fuckstick spreading against his thigh.

"It's 10 inches." Costas smiles as Leo rocks back and forth in the chair. "And, sheesh, yours is, what, eight?"

Leo throws his head back, mouth falling open, as a chorus of sexual moans and sounds fall out of his mouth. His locked legs fly open into a huge V. He feels like he's actually being fucked, or an expert is giving him the best handjob of his life. His cock pulses and pounds with blood as it stretches forward, cum leaking to no end out of his cockhead, those 6 inches growing with each pulse of blood that forces his prized organ larger and larger. It swells against his thigh, thickening with proportional girth as well, slipping out of his underwear as the sensitive head flops against his hairy thigh. Leo whimpers as his cock pushes forward. It's taking all of his willpower not to touch it, stroke it like Costas is stroking his cock through his pants. He finally manages to look down at his now big cock, straining the fabric of his jeans, feeling so stifled with those massive balls, the zipper of his jeans pulling down to try and accommodate his newly massive genitals. His cock oozes more pre, as if his balls are taking advantage of the extra space to pump and produce more sexual fluids out of his cock. His brain feels like it's landed squarely in his balls. Whatever thoughts of escaping whatever Costas is doing to him are immediately interrupted by a new burning need to cum, by the dense thundercloud of hormones tearing through his body.

Costas has taken off his jacket and he's just in his expensive button down. He reaches into his shirt and gropes one of his huge pecs. Leo is so hard, so sweaty, so turned on by this. Mouth hanging open as he tries to focus on anything. But his brain is going haywire.

"Hung bottoms are my weakness."

Leo pitches forward, moaning like he's being fucked as his asshole twitches and throbs. He hangs onto the armrests to prevent from falling as his cock throbs harder, his bigger dick making him moan even more lewdly. It's pure pornography coming out of his mouth as his voice shoots up an octave, cracking a little as his gut gurgles and shifts. Everyone in this fucking office building can probably hear him.

But he.....doesn't care?

He feels the fat in his stomach sliding down into his tightening ass, the underused muscles strengthening and flexing against the onslaught of fatty mass that lands solidly in his ass, pushing it outwards and making it firm but still bouncy, and jiggly. He grits his teeth, hissing with pleasure as his ass rips through his underwear, and screams in pleasure as the sensitive, jiggling globes press against his jeans, putting immense pressure on them as the seams start breaking apart to let his massive ass take up the space it needs. He loses several inches in height, the lost mass resettling in his still inflating ass, the sensation mind-numbingly good.

The bones in his hands pop and rearrange, the palms inflating a little but not a lot, his fingers sucking away excess fat and moving it to his ass. His newly sensitive hole feels like it's burning. Burning with emptiness. He gyrates his massive ass - god they're like beach balls!! - against the leather, desperate for some relief in his increasingly horny, frazzled mind. It's the ass of his dreams. Except it's now hanging off his lower back at a severe angle, and he can feel the weight of it over his trembling thighs, as heat pours into them.

His thighs become fleshy pillars to support his fat ass. He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the muscles grow and tone, solidifying as whatever excess fat his body can suck away in his flattening stomach falls into them, growing them big enough to split the seams of his jeans. He squeezes his thighs, like he's trying to prevent them from growing bigger, splitting apart his jeans as the muscles flex and continue growing. His calves harden and become solid diamonds pressing against his jeans. He rubs the smooth - wait, smooth!? - flesh of his thighs and shakes his legs, the rolling muscles making his eyes cross with pleasure as they close around the space of his overheated balls.

"M - Mr. Mandelieu."

Costas' Mr. Mandelieu's cock is in his hand, all 10 slick glorious inches.

Leo's feet shrink and collapse. The size 12s rearranging onto soft size 9s, his shoes slipping off and collapsing on the floor. His socks hanging off his diminished feet. He flexes his still shrinking toes and bucks, literally thrusts into the air like a bull, as his cock starts spurting cum again, this time breaking the zipper of his jeans and flopping out, firing all over the expensive carpet and his shirt, the cum raining down on his denser, muskier pubes. With each volley of cum, he feels more of himself slipping away. His head feels emptier, his thoughts taking longer to manifest and come together. He feels a little afraid as Mr. Mandelieu says, "You don't ever skip chest day, do you?"

Leo's nipples press so hard against his shirt his hands fly off the chair and grab them, twist and pull as the fat in his chest recedes into his ass and thighs, growing them bigger and causing more fabric to buckle and break under the pressure. A great slither of his crack sits against the leather making him moan and groan, pull his nipples harder as muscle swells behind them.

"Ahhh AH!"

His back arches as small, hard pecs begin mounting on his chest, right above his flat stomach. The muscles are tightening and expanding around his skin. He yanks and pulls on his nipples like he's trying to force milk out of his growing chest. But really he's just pulling his pecs forward, coaxing pure muscle into his hands as the pink buds in his hands bloat into sensitive salamis. His chest broadens and forces his shoulders wider to make room for his burgeoning chest, muscles flexing without his control as they surge forward, big tight slabs of jock muscle that split the buttons of his shirt with their size. It takes him more than a moment to realize the little strands of his chest hair he once grew are no longer there. When he looks into his waistband, he sees that the only hair on his body is the dense bush of pubes crowning his cock. And the smell....it's so...strong. His musk and man stink has never really been that intense. Now it smells like he's just been sweating all day in a jockstrap. The flesh behind his nipples surge one final time with muscle and his pecs firmly mount themselves on his upper torso, making him unleash a low, whiny groan.

Mr. Mandelieu's pants are down now. Cock and huge balls fully in view. The gamey wallop of his scent hits Leo in the nose and makes him moan louder, as he cums again. But this time, the orgasm doesn't even scratch the surface of his horny mind. It feels good, yes, but god there's a better orgasm hiding underneath that.

"Mr. - pant pant - Mandelieu."

"Yes?"

He's tweaking one of his own nipples now, heaving his hairy pecs out of his shirt. Leo tries his best to resettle, sitting on his cushion-like ass and spasming the unfamiliar pleasure racing through him.

"Please...."

"Do you want to stop?"

Do I?

"I just want to cum."

"Then cum."

That better orgasm lances through him like a sword. He arches his back into the bridge position and just lets cum rain all over his smooth, tight chest, his smaller torso. This time, he begins to feel...scratchy in his clothes. Like they're really not fitting him right. He takes off his torn jeans and his broken shirt. Stripping out of them as his orgasm begins to subside, his still dripping cock sending droplets of cum all over the carpet. He's vaguely aware of the seductive way he's stripping out of his clothes, like a stripper almost. Thrusting out his chest, cock, and ass. Throwing his clothes away and just lying there in his ruined briefs, which finally tear off as his hips creak wider and stronger, allowing a final flood of fatty muscle to land in his ass and send another cum rocket out of his cock.

"You're turning out nicely."

"Thank you Mr. - Sir."

Sir?

He places his hands on his stomach, writhing in the chair, completely naked, the leather sending sparks of jittery pleasure up his body because of how sensitive his sweaty skin is. The flatness is weird. Hot, but weird. He runs his smaller hands over it, afraid to go higher and accidentally touch one of his thumbtack hard, and sized, nipples.

"Sir, what's - what's happening to me?"

"Well I'll tell you. But first I have to compliment that core of yours."

The wind is knocked out of him in a breathy moan, as his stomach tightens. The tightening is accompanied by a rush of blood to his kind of softening cock, as cum gutters - genuine cum gutters - carve into his waist. He throws his head back against the headrest in pure bliss as abs forge their way through his taut and sensitive skin. He barely understands what Mr. Sir is saying. But from what he can gather from his increasingly addled mind is that that previous horny wish of being a personal sex toy might actually be happening.

Leo groans and shifts in his seat as his abs and core continue strengthening, his core strong enough along with his thighs, hips, and ass, to ride and milk a dick to within an inch of its life. His cock is just oozing, each pulse forcing out more cum like he's squeezing a dish rag full of cum.

"My usual, they're busy running the gym and all the other Coffee shops. I'm just looking for someone more consistent."

Leo's abs settle into place. They're beautiful. All lined up in a neat row. He runs his fingers up and down the tight, cobblestone skin.

"You smell so good sir."

"Thank you."

His laugh makes Leo whimper and moan.

"Why don't you come over here and give me a kiss with those big fat lips of yours."

And he does. He gets up and nearly falls backwards due to the weight hanging on his lower body. Sir meets him halfway and pulls him in, hand tantalizingly close to his round, voluptuous ass.

Leo's lips plump up and expand. Kissable, perky, lips to wrap around a cock and never let go. The kiss with Sir makes Leo nearly cum right then and there, made even more unbearable by Sir's big, massive hands rubbing and caressing, and spanking those bountiful cheeks. He has to stand on his tiptoes to meet Sir's beautiful lips.

Then he breaks it. Leo just whimpers.

"Flex for me."

His soft, flabby biceps expand and grow. It's an orgasm via his biceps, the fat redistributing throughout his body. Lower and into his pecs, filling them out more. Even lower and into his ass that pushes against Sir's hand as his pit hair grows bushier and stronger. He collapsed into Sir's body as his arms continue to grow lithe and muscular, strong but not overly large biceps. He kisses Sir's neck, grinding against his thigh, their fat cocks brushing against each other as Sir's grumbling moans resonate and bounce around in Leo's emptying skull. The world around him seems to warp and shimmer.

"Why don't you take a look at yourself?"

Suddenly, they're not in the office but a pool. Sir is in a Speedo with his fat cock visible right through it, the bulge making Leo's hole twinge.

A big sprawling house looms in the distance. Leo looks around, his dumbing mind confused but not at all frightened. When he sees himself in the reflection of the pool house's glass, he's floored.

Sir's Daddy's hand stays firmly on Leo's ass. Everything feels blindingly good. Except the emptiness that's been in his ass the entire time his body has been morphed and bent to Sir's will.

He's guided to one of the many couches and sits Leo on his lap, the sensation of Daddy's swollen cock between his massive ass, teasing that sensitive hole rocks Leo to his core.

"Do you want to be my himbo?"

Leo feverishly nods. To keep feeling everything this good. He doesn't feel worried, or afraid, or concerned. His old life drips and drops out of his cock. He knows that as soon as Daddy's cock enters him, that old life will be like a long dream.

A lifetime position.

Daddy lifts him up and is about to position him above his massive cock.

"Wait!"

He pauses.

"We can still stop if you don't want this."

Leo sheepishly looks around the gorgeous property. All his. His to use. His to fuck in. Do whatever.

"Can you make me a little beefier?"

Daddy nods.

Then he plunges all of his cock into Leo's ass. His brain ignites with pleasure, a huge campfire of sex just lit up. The Big One - the No Going Back orgasm - rocks his frame and he paints Daddy's big, broad chest with his cum as he bounces on Daddy's cock like a pogo stick. Working Daddy's cock deeper inside of him, stretching his hole and pounding his prostate, literally making him howl with sexual gratification. He sifts through his dulling mind and realizes that, okay, he can do basic math. He can still take care of himself. But whenever he tries reaching into that well of higher thought and concern, he simply draws a blank. Daddy wraps his arms around Leo as he cums, thick ropey cum landing deep in Leo's body.

This cum is then distributed around Leo's tight body as he groans and shakes, cum firing out of his cock again. His pecs become fuller, softer, fat filling in the space around his muscles, stretching and dragging his nipples and chest across Daddy's body, intensifying his orgasm. His ass and thighs grow jigglier but no less strong, squeezing Daddy's cock and making him groan. His abs bloat slightly and push against Daddy's stomach. He hugs Daddy tightly as he's overwhelmed with love and deep affection for him.

The horny fog finally lifts.

When Costas pulls out with a slick pop! , Leo sees his finalized form as he slumps into the empty space on the couch, exhausted and content.

"How do you feel big guy?"

Leo rests his head on Costas' chest, wraps his thicker, beefier arms around his body and begins drifting off to sleep with a faint smile on his face. Costas laughs and kisses Leo on the top of his head, pulling him in tight.

Truthfully, Leo's the happiest he's ever been.

I love cop TFs.

Cop Out

Nick, a young, headstrong journalist, had been investigating strange goings-on at the police department for months. Odd reports of trainees at the police academy disappearing while the number of senior cops seemed to increase, and without any known source of extra funding. But his only informant, a trainee at the academy himself, soon mysteriously vanished as well. Convinced the police were covering something up, Nick felt compelled to investigate.

Before they fell off the grid, Nick’s informants mentioned a company that seemed to be tied up with the disappearances - New You Industries. But despite his best efforts, the intrepid investigator couldn’t find any reference to such a business ever having existed. The last he heard from his mole was that a shipment was due to arrive at the police training academy in a week.

And so, seven days later, Nick found himself staking out the storage garage of the academy in the dead of night. From a long distance in the safety of his car, he snapped pictures of a man getting out of an unmarked car and handing three small boxes to someone Nick recognized the city’s police chief, Chief Barrow. But this evidence was meaningless without knowing what the shipment contained.

He waited patiently for all parties to depart and snuck up on the garage, snapping the lock with bolt cutters and using his camera’s flash to illuminate the pitch-black room. Nick was dismayed to find two police badges sitting on the shelf, along with three boxes, now empty.

“Did I just stake out a shipment of police badges?” Nick muttered to himself. He jumped back in fright as the lights were suddenly switched on.

“C-Chief Barrow?” Nick stammered as he turned to see the police chief standing next to the light switch.

“You think we didn’t know you’d been following us?” he growled as he stepped toward Nick.

“What happened to the students?! Did you kill them?!” Nick yelled as if to try and bolster himself against the fear he was currently experiencing.

The police chief stopped in his tracks and made a sly expression, “They’re not dead. They’re in the station, working.”

“W-what?” Nick replied with the same look of bewilderment, “I-I was told students were vanishing from the academy?”

“They got - how should I say this - fast-tracked through the program,” Barrow responded with a smirk, “You’re about to find how. Catch!”

Nick flinched as the chief tossed a small metallic object at him. Reacting instinctively, Nick caught it in his hands. It was a badge, just like the two behind him. He shuddered and his hand tensed around the badge. Incredible energy surged up his arm and spread through him. He desperately wanted to let go of the enchanted badge, but he couldn’t.

“Sorry, but we can’t have you reporting on this,” Barrow chuckled as he exited and slammed the garage closed behind him. As the door crashed down Nick’s legs gave out and he fell to his knees, his fingers still firmly grasping the badge. The young journalist was terrified, but at the same time engrossed in the power bubbling through his body. Finally, his fingers unclenched and dropped the badge to the floor, but the damage had been done. Nick pushed onto all fours and let out a long moan as his body began to change.

His legs stretched out from his slacks, exposing more and more of his shins. Likewise, his arms extended from his sleeves while his entire torso was pulled longer and longer. “What’s ah… happening to me?!” Nick groaned as his cock hardened to full mast.

Muscles fluttered and twitched all over his body. They grew across his arms, bulging from his biceps and triceps as his shoulders grew wider, tearing at his shirt. Pecs slowly protruded from his bony chest, growing large and dense. Abs rippled out along his stomach, leading down to a sharper, V-shaped set of cum gutters. His legs surged with strength, copious amounts of muscle growing and forming in his thighs and calves, stretching his fly apart and revealing the wet, hard, bulging underwear underneath. Behind him, his flat butt began to press outward, bigger and rounder, matching his thick, muscular thighs.

He couldn’t help himself, clasping at the exposed muscle as hairs darted across the surface. Soon he found himself grabbing fabric, much to his surprise. He opened his eyes to see his tattered clothes repairing and reshaping into the uniform of the local precinct. His bulging arms still strained the new shirt. A bulky, heavy vest replete with a radio and utilities formed over the top.

“Ngh! Fuck!” he grunted, bucking his hips involuntarily as his feet stretched and pressed against his tight leather brogues just as they too morphed to accommodate his changing body. The pressure lowered as his size nine dress shoes rapidly bloated outward into heavy, size fourteen boots. Long toes shredded through his socks, clutching at the insole as they stretched along with his extending soles.

Nick clambered to his feet, clutching his head, only to feel his hair pulling inward, short and tidy. Not only that, but he could feel some hair vanishing completely from his temples, leaving him with the slightly receded hairline of a man maybe five or more years older than he was. His fingers cracked as they began to slide longer across his scalp, pushing through the neat, handsome cut of hair. He held the stretching, trembling hands in front of him, gasping as he watched them swell huge and powerful.

He slammed his massive fists into the wall with a deepening roar, feeling his head creak and reshape. His features broadened and enlarged. A strong chin and jaw pressed out of his face and light stubble sprouted from the skin. “Must be… some way to s-stop this…” Nick groaned, his eyes widening at the sound of his new and completely unfamiliar voice. Nick frantically reached for the police badge on the floor that had started all of this, hoping, praying for some way to revert his changes. His eyes scanned the metallic chest piece, but there was no sign of any method to stall or revert what was happening. Rather, he caught a glimmer of his new reflection in the shiny metal. Nick’s wide, handsome jaw fell open at the sight. Not only did he look easily seven or more years older, but he looked completely different; he couldn’t help but think he looked much manlier and sexier.

Meanwhile, downstairs, his hard cock ached for touch as it stretched down the leg of his pants. “Oh, god!” Nick gasped. His balls swelled larger while his python thickened and lengthened against his muscular leg. He couldn’t contain himself anymore, pulling the fly on his new pants down and fishing his swelling cock out, allowing it to stretch into the open. He couldn’t believe how big it had already gotten, easily inches larger than what he was used to. Reluctant but unable to resist, he gripped it in his hand and pumped, growling loudly with every stroke. Nick was too busy relishing his increased size and virility to realize his mind was filling with policing skills and years of experience. Before he knew it he had an eight-inch weapon in his hand. He couldn’t take it anymore; his height, his muscles, his size. He felt so virile, so masculine, so powerful. Screaming in ecstasy, Nick blew load after load against the concrete wall.

Once the post-orgasmic fog lifted, Nick quickly tidied himself and brushed a large hand through his shorter hair, dazed and confused. His memory was intact, but they competed for attention with new skills, desires, and traits. The muscular sergeant lifted the garage door with ease, spotting Chief Barrow waiting for him in the car park just in the distance.

“Ready, Sergeant?” Barrow asked.

“I… I…”, Nick stuttered as he looked down at his muscular frame, suddenly noticing how much taller he was now. His huge cock twitched in response, causing Nick to moan just a little. “Y-Yes, sir!” he parroted as he proceeded toward the car, eagerly accepting his new life as Officer Nick Collins.