Hotel Korea

Hotel Korea

Lee Hae-jin stood at the top of his newest enterprise, filled with pride. Nobody could see him from below, as the immense building was over 50 stories tall, but he could see everyone below. The giant crowd had just begun the flood into the building. His latest accomplishment, one that would soon spread worldwide. His building, Hotel Korea, had just opened mere minutes ago. It was to become the biggest hotspot of the blooming American metropolis. It was filled with lavish resort accessories, including minibars, pools, spas, and a massive casino, all of which were authentically Korean.

Lee smirked to himself quietly, adjusting his crotch in his miniature running shorts. Most people wouldn’t recognize him in the running outfit, mistaking him as a guest rather than the owner of the soon-to-be expansive company, and that was the plan. He believed he could get the most honest, critical results if no one knew that he was Lee Hae-jin, but instead just Lee.

He looked one last time at the crowd, his muscles tensing before he began to walk away. He was excited to see the results after his guests’ stay. He believed they all had shockingly similar opinions after their time at the resort. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the simplicity of the hotel’s logo: “A Seoul-changing experience.”

— —

James Parker was completely wiped out. In one day, he had married the woman of his dreams, taken a five hour flight to their honeymoon destination, and only halfway there realized that his new wife had accidentally boarded the wrong plane. He was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed, but to be fair he was exhausted. He had called his wife once he had landed, the two too exhausted to have meltdowns but still fairly ravaged. The plan was for James to stay in the honeymoon suite for the night at the new hotel that had just opened days before, then the two would meet the next morning. James felt terrible that his wife would have to take a red-eye flight, but he knew she was strong.

The two were psychology majors back in college. They had both met in class and, almost instantly, became an inseparable couple. They both looked fairly average, but their wits and intelligence were quite impressive, especially when put together. The only thing physically special about James was his large feet, which did say wonders about his large penis. It was surprising how such a normal looking person could have eight inches of hard meat in his pouch. Once the two had graduated with honors, they got engaged and married a year later. They planned to have an extravagant honeymoon night after they married, but so far that looked quite questionable.

James walked slowly out of the cab and grabbed his things before walking into the Hotel Korea. The new hotel had received incredible reviews, each stating their own “life-changing” experience. The couple had chosen it for its location, but James was excited about what else the hotel had to offer. He walked up to the front desk, which was surprisingly empty, contrasting the rest of the lobby which seemed rather full.

“Hi, um…” James fumbled over his words, “James Parker.” The young Korean attendant, who James could tell was rather handsome, seemed confused for a moment, as if he didn't understand what to do. Then, moments later, something flashed in his eyes and he began to type away slowly.

“Ahight…” the Korean said, his accent extremely heavy, “You ah on top flouh in da Seoulmates Suite.” The young attendant, looked around, trying to find James partner, but found no one.

“She’s… a little late,” James replied, lying through his teeth.

“Ahh,” the Korean replied, “youh consiehge shouh be with yoo shouhly. He at da pooh”

Before James could ask what that meant, the young attendant was whipped away to another guest. A bellboy, also a handsome young Korean man, grabbed James luggage and walked to the elevator, hopefully up to James room. James followed a few signs, struggling to differ between the little English and lots of Korean in each direction sign. After almost ten minutes of searching, he came to the pool.

The pool was filled with people of all ages, most of whom were Korean. All of the bellboys, waiters, and other hotel employees where just as visually stunning as the first two. The hotel’s owner obviously wanted to set some kind of atmosphere. As James’ eyes surveyed the layout, he heard his name being called out in the distance.

“친구!” the voice shouted, “Oveh heuh, James!”

James followed the voice to find a young, confident man lounging in a poolside chair. Just like all the other employees, he was rather handsome and Korean. James was getting a little nervous about what his wife would think with all these attractive men. The young man wore a tight, blue polo and sharp chino shorts. His accessories included fancy dark loafers and a pair of sunglasses that hid his mischievous eyes.

“I am Gong Soo-Hyun, youh consiehge foh you and youh wife while you stay,” he said, extending his hand. James wondered if everyone here had the thick accent. “You can call me Soo-Hyun.”

Soo-Hyun went on to explain the rest of the day while giving a tour for James, describing all the things he would do as a bachelor for the night. James quickly followed and was excited to see all the different things he could do, but decided to go to bed early. He wanted to get a headstart to spend all of the next day with his wife.

Once he got to his room, he realized just how disappointed he was that he was alone. The room was enormous, and the view was incredible. He knew his wife would’ve loved to see this. He jumped on the bed, looking for his suitcase, but realized that none of his belongings were there. Probably got mixed up somehow, he’d have to ask Soo-Hyun about it.

James looked all around the suite for his stuff, not giving up just yet. He looked in the mini kitchen, behind the couch, even on the balcony. When he walked to the bathroom, he yelped, not realizing that Soo-Hyun was there.

“WOAH!” he cried, jumping back and looking away, “What are you doing in here?”

Soo-Hyun was sitting in there contently on the bathtub, his feet in a spa, wearing nothing but a black robe. James was thankful he didn’t get a good look, otherwise he might have seen more than he had ever need to.

“Calm down, James,” Soo-Hyun said, shifting his feet around in the miniature tub, “I’m jus checkeen do see if da watuh is wahm.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out!” James said, turning back slowly to look in the bathroom. He was desperately searching for eye contact, “What are you doing in my room?”

“Couples Mahssage?” Soo-Hyun said, pouring a few more salts in before picking up the spa and walking past him. James followed the handsome Korean man to find that his bed had been prepared this entire time. Lotions lined his bedside table and soft lighting had filled the room. Somehow, he hadn’t even notice the small machines spewing calming vapor into the air.

“I know yoh wife isn’ heuh, but I tought you migh need goo Korean massage,” Soo-Hyun said, placing the spa by the bed before tossing James a white robe. James didn’t really want to change, but Soo-Hyun told him too anyways. James met him halfway and stripped to his plane clothes, a soft gray tee and gym shorts, before putting the robe on. Soo-Hyun didn’t like it, saying it wouldn’t be an “authentic Korean massage,” but he didn’t fight it. James laid face-down on his bed, still not really getting why he was getting a massage, but as soon as the Korean’s hand pressed into his back, he didn’t have a single worry left.

As Soo-Hyun rubbed away, James began to realize how much stress he had on his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually relaxed, enjoying the fact that now he’d have an entire honeymoon to do it.

“You know,” Soo-Hyun remarked, getting some lotion into his hands, “youh 다리 (legs) are goouh. I don wemembeh de las time I saw Kowean man with haieh down deh.”

James was confused for a slight moment before forgetting as he grunted from Soo-Hyun hit a hard spot. He knew what Soo-Hyun meant, most men were hairless besides the head, pits, and pubes, but he was lucky enough to be graced with a very light coating of leg hairs. James was puzzled to why Soo-Hyun had mentioned Korean, but before he could think about it anymore, Soo-Hyun was caressing his legs with what immense pleasure. He hadn’t even noticed how he had translated the little Korean that was slipped into Soo-Hyun’s sentence.

As Soo-Hyun massaged the lotion in, James’ legs began to slowly change. The masseuse smirked as he watched the brown leg hairs almost disappear, becoming a very light, black coat. The calves and thighs began to bulk up, taking on a yellowy, tanner tone as his quads began to form. Although his legs were thickening, they began to shrink too. James height began to lower, going from six foot to 70 centimeters. James, too involved in his one pleasure, didn’t even notice how his feet where no longer touching the end of the bed.

“Ahso impwessed by dese 무기,” Soo-Hyun continued, grabbing more of the lotion, “You wouhk ouh ofden.” Soo-Hyun said it more as a statement than a question.

“Fouh times a week,” James replied, not remembering how he hadn’t been in a gym since high school. He also didn’t know the hint of a lisp as he spoke. The feeling of Soo-Hyun kneading his arm was sending him into a new universe, and he loved it. He moaned quietly into the pillow as Soo-Hyun continued, not noticing the his arms.

Soo-Hyun rubbed the lotion in, making James’ arms begin to enlarge. The once-weak limb now began to expand, large biceps and triceps inflating underneath the tanning skin. As his forearms began to yellow, all signs of arm hair began to disappear as his limbs began to shed themselves onto the bed. Small black hairs began to fill in their space, but so tiny that no one could see them unless they were using a microscope. Soo-Hyun grabbed James’ hands, rubbing the lotion into them as they grew into soft, masculine paws. With James loving the Korean’s touch so much, he didn’t even realize when he had lifted up the sleeves to massage his armpits. Soo-Hyun grabbed a different lotion and rubbed it inside James’ pits, the brown bushes underneath darkening into a pitch black as they grew. They were definitely more impressive, but due to James’ now muscled arms, they couldn’t be seen unless the limbs were raised. A subtle funk began to permeate near James’ nose, but he just assumed it was a lotion.

“You have amazeen 가슴, Wha do you lift?” Soo-Hyun asked, pushing up the robe and James’ shirt lightly as he began to massage his back. He was inserting more and more of the native language, hopefully subtle enough that James wouldn’t notice.

“Usually 125 kilograms, buh mouh on my better days,” James replied, his voice muffled. He hadn’t noticed how he was slipping more into the weird lisp, or how he had used the metric system instead of his own imperial. James was to busy remembering all the times he had worked out, and enjoying Soo-Hyun’s touch, to think about other things.

With James’ shirt almost pushed completely up, Soo-Hyun had complete access to James back. He began to pound away, rubbing the lotion in every crack. James’ torso began to slowly inflate, the once mere chest filling in with hard muscles. Pecs began to form as abs popped in, each taking on its own unique form. The hairs that once lined James’ belly began to fall away, instead begin replaced with black hairs invisible to the naked eye. James’ shoulders widened as a perfect V-shape began to appear along his hips. While his chest began to tint towards an amber, his nipples began to expand on his large pecs, becoming much more sensitive. James’ moans grew louder as Soo-Hyun moved towards the neck.

“How lon have you had dat 목소리?” Soo-Hyun said while caressing James’ growing Adam’s apple, switching quickly into Korean, “It is smooth and sexy”

“Issa Park hing,” James said, referencing his surname and cementing the language, “We ah have 자극 voice.” James loved his deep, alluring voice. He had remembered how many times it had been the reason for his sexual conquests. He had pounded so many women with his powerful voice. It ran in his family, the Park family, for a very long time. As he thought to himself about how appealing his voice was, he hadn’t realized that he was slowly beginning to think in Korean. His English was dissipating, and he had yet to realize that he was slowly beginning to forget his own name.

As soon as James’ neck finished yellowing, Soo-Hyun moved up to James’ temples.

“제임스,” Soo-Hyun said, reinforcing the language into his client’s head by saying his name in Korean. Soo-Hyun stay in Korean, hoping to push the guest over. “You are stunning. You know you are hot.”

Jeimseu’s brain immediately absorbed the subtle command as Soo-Hyun massaged away. His naturally shy demeanor was washed away as a more cocky, confident aura surrounded him. He was hot, and he knew it. In fact, he was more than hot, he was a sexy, intoxicating beast, and every person, male and female knew it. They all saw it as he shot his sperm into them.

Soo-Hyun, ecstatic that everything was working perfectly, applied more lotion has he recreated Jeimseu’s head. First, he straightened the jaw, giving it a sharper angle as he began to make his lips slightly larger. Next came the nose, which he enlarged before removing all signs of facial imperfections. Any signs of previous acne or blemishes were completely erased as a yellower tone began to tan Jeimseu’s face. His face reconstructed slowly into one more of Asian descent as his eyebrows were corrected. His once green eyes darkened into a brown as his hair became a deep, intimidating black before shortening into a more trendy, messy cut.. What used to be a small stubble disappeared as tiny black hairs began to appear, just dark enough that you could see the hints of a mustache but nothing else. Jeimseu was now so deep into the massage that he had lost all control of himself, softly beginning to grind his mediocre cock into the bed. He also hadn’t noticed his intellect leaking away, slowly draining itself.

Soo-Hyun smiled to himself as he picked up the spa and put it on the bed. It wouldn’t have fit before, but due to Jeimseu’s shrank height it now had a perfect spot right at the end for him to dip his feet into. Soo-Hyun slowly picked up Jeimseu’s large feet and delicately placed them into the tub. Jeimseu was still face down, but the pillows did nothing to block out the noise of his moaning. When Jeimseu had walked it on Soo-Hyun in the bathroom, he hadn’t actually been testing the water: he had been adding to it.

This was all part of Lee Hae-jin’s master plan. The lotions and salts, provided by the Hotel Korea, were specially made back in Seoul. They would act as regular soothers to the common man, but to the touch of a Korean, they would act as transmitters, replicating the Korean genes into the user. Lee had thought of the idea as a way to combat Korea’s diminishing population and popularity; instead of finding new people, why not create them? He had proposed the idea to many investors and all of them agreed that it was a fascinating plan. After almost a year spent building the hotel, finding funds, and creating the products, he had finally put it all into action. All the staff members at the hotel knew their roles, and their real roles. With the masseuse rubbing the lotion all over the client’s body with his hands, he was subtly massing the Korean genetic code into the guest. When Soo-Hyun was “testing” the waters, he had been actually activating the salts, making sure they would duplicate and recreate Jeimseu’s feet.

“You have beautiful feet,” Soo-Hyun stated, caressing the bottoms softly,

“They are big for a Korean man.”

“You know what they say about big feet,” Jeomsou replied back in Korean. As Soo-Hyun massaged his feet, Jeomsou remembered how important his feet were too him. They were quite large, for a Korean, and they had been another reason that he was quite a stunner with the men. So many guys had longed to be down at his feet, to kiss his luscious toes, and all he could do was smirk inside the pillow. He loved his feet, and he made sure to take care of them. Pedicures, long runs, nice shoes. He also loved the smell, so he made sure to never use any deodorants.

While Jeomsou discovered a new foot fetish, Soo-Hyun worked away at the shrinking feet. Before, James had sported a quite surprising Size 14 US (above average), but Soo-Hyun had successfully brought the monsters to a much more appealing size. In honor of what they used to be, he made sure that Jeomsou had feet that were still quite big at 270 mm (above Korean average). The feet began to tan, blending in with the rest of the body, before pumping itself up. They used to be fat, but now they were plump with definition. The brown hair shed away, only to be replaced with a barely visible coating of black. The last thing that came was the funk. Soo-Hyun hadn’t meant for that to come, but he decided to keep it.

Before Jeomsou could react to the loss of rubbing on his feet, he was soon met by Soo-Hyun ripping off his shorts underneath the robe. Jeomsou, not remembering going commando, felt his buns being reshaped. He began to grind harder into the bed as his butt became two giant globes, bubbly and yellow. Once Soo-Hyun was done, he gave the round meat a slap and turned Jeomsou over, revealing the last part of Jeomsou’s previous life: his pouch.

“What are you...oh!” Joom-suo shouted as Soo-Hyun sprayed the cold lube on his large, white cock and balls. Not allowing Joom-suo to make anymore noise, Soo-Hyun quickly put his mouth over the large cock. Soo-Hyun was not at all ready for the immense size. The average size in his home country was just under 4 inches, so he was barely ready for double that. Joom-suo, after realizing what was happening, began to grind his pouch into the masseuse’s mouth, grabbing and yanking at his black hair in the process. Being a complete homosexual, he knew a good bottom when he felt one.

As Joom-suo moaned away, Soo-Hyun began to cup the balls and tickle them, riling up the almost-Korean sperm. As he did, Joom-suo’s large balls began to shrink, tanning and softening into something more reasonable from his soon-to-be homeland. As Joom-suo began to edge, Soo-Hyun began to ruffle the lube through the pubes, causing them to become a sheen black that shined. The last bits of lube were on Joom-suo’s dick, and as Soo-Hyun sucked away, it became more and more pleasurable for the top. It wasn’t because Soo-Hyun was getting better, but instead because his dick was becoming smaller and more sensitive. Joom-suo could feel his cock shrinking, each inch it lost making him more aroused. He didn’t know his dick was shrinking, but he loved the feeling of his head going from touching the back of Soo-Hyun’s mouth to slowly making its way across the roof. While he was sucked away, the last bits of intelligence were sucked away. Joom-suo had never been smart; he had always been on the dull side of things. He didn’t care though, why be smart when you can be sexy and stupid? It was all he needed.

As Soo-Hyun saw the last of the white skin sink into the ravaging, yellowy tan, he felt a geyser of pure cum pour down his throat. He pulled himself off, happy to see that the saying about big feet was still correct. There was still a rather large dick in front of him, standing proudly at 10 centimeters long. It was less than half of what it used to be, but it was still larger than the Korean average.

“Up here, babe,” a soft, yet demanding voice said to Soo-Hyun in Korean, ushering him to the head of the bed. Soo-Hyun laid his head to next to the former-client, present-lover. Soo-Hyun smiled as a lemony hand pushed off the messy hair of his head. His lover pushed himself up, placing his hand under his head.

“I think I might have to get a job here with you, it’s magnificent.”

“I know.” That was the last part of Lee’s plan, all of the clients would want to become employees in the end. Best way to expand.

“Put on some nicer clothes and go downstairs, there are open interviews right now,” Soo-Hyun said, getting up and fixing himself. That massage had proven to be a workout.

“Alright,” he replied, “but first…” As soon as Soo-Hyun turned around, he felt a gush of hot, steaming piss hit his face. He eagerly lapped it up and let it soak in his robe. He would love to adorn this scent later.

His lover quickly got dressed and slapped Soo-Hyun on the butt before heading out. He walked down to the first floor, not needing any elevator. After a little bit of searching, and a lot of struggle trying to read, he finally found the spot for open interviews. He stood outside and waited, excited to pursue his dream career.

“Next!” someone shouted, and after spending a minute trying to translate the English, he walked in and took a seat, excited to begin.

“Name?”

“Joong-suk Park.”

“What job would you like?”

“Concierge.”

“You’re hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

Some Help

Hey y'all, Tumblr cracked down on this story and wouldn't let it go through appeals, so after some quick revisions and removal of trigger words, I hope this can now fly

“Max, c’mon!” his girlfriend begged. “Just one more store.”

“This doesn’t even look like a store,” Max rolled his eyes. “It’s someone’s garage.”

His girlfriend’s angered face was one he was unfortunately becoming accustomed to. She stormed off into the "store,” not even trying to look at items as she separated herself as far as possible from her boyfriend. Max groaned obnoxiously, getting frustrated with her antics. Sure, she had a great rack and a pair of hips that filled out every outfit properly, but he was getting sick of her need to always shop. To always party. To always be somewhere. Anywhere but home, alone, in bed. It seemed like she was only using Max as a piece of eye candy. 

And if he was, he wouldn’t be offended. The 6 foot male was sure easy on the eyes. Fair skin, beautifully straight blond hair. A thin body sculpted after years of strict dieting and running routines. Thanks to his gay college roommate, he’d learned how to dress himself too. Max’s current “old-money” combo of a linen button-up and sleek blue pants made him look all the more ravishing. He appeared to be a weapon that could always satisfy. Well, always besides the nagging anomaly who was currently hiding from him.

“Chick problems, bro?”

Max turned his gaze to meet his newest conversationalist: a muscular Black man who was surrounded by what appeared to be the most valuable items in the garage. Even though he was dressed in a simple outfit that made him appear cheap, he gave off an aura of confidence that intimidated the white male. Max assumed this guy was the owner, or the seller, or whatever you’d call someone who owned this kind of place.

“Don’t start with me.” Max honestly wasn’t a rude guy, but he was just having a rough day. That didn’t fly with the other man however.

“Y’ain’t thinkin’ that white dick satisfies,” the other guy was smug, making the question come off as a statement.

“Excuse me?” Max snarled, his agitation already present.

“I ain't repeatin' myself,” the Black man replied, lying back further in his chair. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

“Who do you think you are?” Max stepped up to the man’s makeshift counter, sizing him up.

“Just a bro with a Big Black Cock.” He readjusted himself in his seat before continuing. “And some Big Black Feet.” 

Having already been in position, the Black man easily maneuvered himself to present his two massive Black soles onto the counter in front of him, one right on top of the other. Max watched the gargantuan pair land with successive thuds, each already more manly than the entirety of the white male. Their odor soon wafted up to Max’s nose, the potent stink of sweat and superiority flooding his brain. The Black male watched expressionless as Max slowly lowered himself to the ground, kneeling as his brain was corrected and realigned to understand its new place and priorities.

Max didn’t care that he was out in the open. He didn’t care that anyone, including his girlfriend, could’ve turned his direction to see how easily the straight man had submitted. Max didn't say a word; all he did was lean forward and begin licking and kissing the Black feet, dreading the moment he would be told to stop.

“See bro,” the Black man started. “I’mma just tryina give ya some help.”

“Help…me…?” Max’s voice came out slumbered, completely hypnotized by the smelly, sweaty soles in front of him.

“Yeah man,” the Black man assured. “Y’ain’t givin’ yer girl what she wants. What she needs.”

“I’m…not giving…”

“Exactly. So I’m gonna help ya. Ain’t that nice of me?”

“...yes.”

“That’s right.” The Black man shifted a little to make himself more comfortable, not caring whatsoever if it made the other man's servicing more difficult. “What's yer name?”

“Max…”

“Classic white boy pussy name,” the Black man scoffed. “I’mma have to fix that.”

Max agreed willingly, absorbing the scent, the taste, and the words of his superior.

“My name’s Jerome.” He wiggled his toes. “Now I just want ya to listen to me and keep doin’ down there what every white boy should be doin’.”

Jerome didn’t hear a verbal response, but by Max’s slight increase in commitment down low he could tell they were ready to proceed.

“Alright bro, first we gotta do somethin’ ‘bout those muscles.” Jerome’s eyes scanned over Max’s body with disgust. “That french fry body don’t do nobody any favors.”

Max’s slim figure began to expand upon command, every sniff and lick acting as a small addition towards a larger goal. Muscles that had been tailored so delicately began to push and pull, losing their original polished shapes for a more rugged, natural outfitting. Max’s biceps weren’t carved in a gym, they were created by hard-bearing labor. And those legs, they weren’t from some treadmill. No, they had been crafted by years of playing games with the boys. They stretched out a few extra inches behind the kneeling man, bringing him to a more suitable height of 6’3.

“If ya wanna impress ya boo, then ya gotta look like a thug. Not some shrimpy Tik Tok trash.”

Mass continued piling onto Max’s frames, with his veins bulging as they worked to supply more nutrients to the swelling tissue. His pectorals puffed out as his shoulders broadened, creating an impenetrable wall of an upper chest. His doll-like six pack sprung out of its plastic domain, creating harder ridgelines and meatier abs that were not meant to be maintained, or contained. Neck widened, jaw sharpened, and even his feet went up a few sizes, testing the limits of his designer shoes. The test didn’t last long however, with the canvas ripping down the middle and falling pathetically off his feet. The rest of Max’s outfit looked due to meet a similar fate, fitting now like a superhero suit over his gargantuan body.

“Whaddya say, bro,” Jerome taunted. “Ya gonna want them manlier details too?”

“Manly…details…” Max murmured in delight between his servicing. Jerome’s idea of details swept in quickly. First was the removal of most body hair in order to display the curvature and depth of every enhanced muscle Max now possessed. The crucial areas however (pits and crotch) were spared, in fact enriched as they bloomed with more of Max’s blond hair. A natural increase in sweat matted them down to his skin, already wetting his linen shirt. They also created a powerful, inescapable funk that easily emitted from his body. Finally, Max’s vocal chords stretched in order to lower his range from the typical tenor to a more distinguished baritone. He didn’t notice this change though, or any for that matter. All that was on his mind was Jerome’s feet. His big, Black feet.

“Time for the best part of the show,” Jerome smirked, finally showing some expression. He cockily watched on as his subject’s skin began to tan. The pinkish-pale tone slowly faded into a more yellowy shade before landing on a solid honey. But it continued from there, darkening even further into caramel and then sliding into a brown. Once it had finished, it was undeniable that Max’s complexion was a chocolatey hue. He wasn’t as rich as Jerome, but that wasn’t the goal. Jerome just always wanted his boys to be unquestionably Black. And by Max’s new skin tone alone, he certainly was.

But it wasn’t just Max’s color that would define the improved him. His hair immediately bounced into a new shape, blackening out as it curled and coiled into a moderately-sized afro. His body hair followed suit, crinkling in before fluffing back out like soaked sponges. Max’s nostrils and lips plumped outwards, each set becoming a little larger and more prominent. His entire face broadened too, losing its longer shape in favor of a wider set of cheekbones and lower forehead. The beginnings of an indestructible black stubble carved itself around his mouth and chin to create an almost extended goatee.

As a final stamp of approval, Max made sure to cement the long held truth that Black men were bigger. Sure, his average size was already enough to do the trick, but the new, darker rod had to make itself memorable, legendary. It thickened within Max’s name brand underwear while piling on a little extra length, bringing Max to a whopping 9 inches. It gave Max power, strength, and dominion; everything a Black man should have. His pouch made sure to ripen properly along with it, now producing the same potent juices Jerome already had.

Jerome stretched a little farther forward, moving his feet slightly apart to move around Max’s head. Confused, the new physically Black man sat there dazed as Jerome’s feet pulled him in, causing his face to land right in front of Jerome’s crotch. Max’s eyelids fluttered while he followed Jerome’s hands which gently pulled down the waistband. Once the gate had lowered, a hard, Black 10-incher sprung out and smacked Max right on the nose. It was throbbing immensely, already dripping.

“These kinda boys always be leakin’,” Jerome answered smugly. “You gonna be swappin’ boxers at least once a day.”

Max could feel his own lurch in response, beginning a steady flow underneath his clothes like a broken faucet. Jerome positioned himself and aimed his cannon right onto Max’s face. In a moment, it shot off, covering Max’s face with an amount of spunk he didn’t know was possible. Jerome sealed the deal by placing one of his feet on Max’s face. He felt cleansed as Jerome smeared along, moving the foot up and down his face. Max’s mind was mush as everything he was and used to be was rearranged and adapted into something more appropriate for his newer, better life. 

“There ya go,” Jerome contentedly replied as his face returned to its flat demeanor. “How you feelin’, Malik?”

“Lit, bro,” Malik responded, his deep bass booming.

“Go get some clothes inside,” Jerome instructed. “I ain’t havin’ you stand out here lookin’ like some boy band wannabe.”

“Nah I’mma makin’ this outfit look good,” Malik retorted as he got up. “‘Sides, you prolly just jealous.”

Malik made his way into the garage before entering the house. The inside was dirty, covered with old laundry that was begging to be washed and new clothes that were begging to be worn. Malik grabbed the first things he saw and magically created an outfit–it being one of his best skills. A very stretched out pair of boxer shorts, some Champion sweats, and two white Nikes that Malik somehow knew carried a hefty price tag. He tossed on some simple accessories and studs to help create the perfect look, not even bothering with a shirt. Noticing just how fine he looked, Malik made sure to snap a pic with his phone. He was one sexy piece of dark meat.

“Bro!” Jerome shouted from the door that connected to the garage. “That chick you were diggin’ is checkin’ out!”

Malik’s package twitched excitedly, chubbing up to its famed glory fast. That breasty white bimbo had strolled right into the garage minutes ago unattended. Malik had called dibs, so he’d have to move fast. He made a confident yet speedy strut out of the house and right into the girl’s path, noticing Jerome giving him a sharp nod.

“Hey babygirl,” Malik cooed with his signature sultry tongue. “I bet it only one thing you wanna get and I can tell ya it’s free.” He bit his lip and palmed himself greedily to make sure he would highlight his visibly hard member. A wet spot had already appeared at the extended tip.

“Ohhh ew!” the chick’s face flashed with disgust.

“C’mon,” Malik grunted, closing the gap between them. “I can satisfy like no white boy has never.”

The girl pushed Malik aside in response. “As if!” she spat as she stormed away. Malik simply held his gaze, watching her bodacious behind bounce with every infuriated step. He’d seen better anyway. Heck, he’d hit better. And none of them were white.

“Wow, dude, ya struck out hard,” Jerome emphasized, honestly surprised that Malik still couldn’t impress even after going Black. Although Malik’s former self had been completely wiped from reality, maybe any form of him would just never be good with women.

“Nah, she just ain’t right for me bro,” Malik shrugged it off. “Women can’t handle all this.”

That gave Jerome an idea. “Is cool bro, you were never into women anyway.”

“Huh? You on somethin’...” Malik started. But Jerome’s feet had already been placed in front of him. Malik felt himself slowly collapsing, getting closer to the two beautifully Black soles.

Riches to Rags

Mike took a breath, shaking himself of any final anxious thoughts and assuring himself of his imminent success. He brushed a speck of white lint off the sleeve of his jet black, Calvin Klein suit whilst awaiting his name to be called. His aura of confidence was palpable to the other people in the waiting room; Mike knew that he was far better, not just for the job but also in general, than any of the people sitting around him. His resume was flawless, an early graduate of Stanford University, the top of his class in every course, with a major in economics and a minor in communications, he was an upcoming prodigy of the business world.

Mike believed himself to be only worthy of the best, applying for an accounting position in only the top corporations on the market. Thanks to his parent’s connection with the CEO, he was able to procure a spot for a personal interview only offered to a few applicants. It was only 7 a.m. but he was about to get his dream job at the TG&TF Corporation Headquarters. It was a renowned corporation throughout the world, owning and investing in more companies and start-ups you could probably count on your fingers, TG&TF Corp. is an economic powerhouse that has dominated the market since it was established. Even though it’s run into a few scandals here and there, lawsuits from low-class families (that can afford to sue) claiming their loved ones had disappeared, no one has batted an eye. Mike scoffed even at the thought, who gave a damn about the scum of society? Less of his tax, which he didn’t even pay, going towards the homeless and drug-addicts; it was a good thing. Being born and raised in southern California, he had grown to resent anyone unlike him. The poor were disgusting and dirty and his faith in Christ taught him to despise those against the bible like gays. Above all, he despised illegal immigrants who leeched off people’s hard work and did nothing for his country.

Suddenly, the door to his right opened and a busty woman in a tight black dress walked out with an iPad in hand. A man briskly followed behind her, pure anger in his red eyes and muttering something under his breath. In a tantrum, he stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Mike caught a few of the words before he left, something about how much of a bitch the boss was and how the interviewee would take his talent somewhere else. Mike smirked, another one bites the dust.

Mike turned back to the secretary, tracing his eyes up and down her accentuated curves. He adjusted his glasses and ruffled his straight, dirty blonde hair. He was the spitting image of a spoiled rich boy, standing at around 5’11 with a lanky build. His face was quite attractive however, piercing blue eyes and a chiseled jawline, usually what drew the girls he slept with and left behind.

As he eyed up the woman, he noticed she glanced at him, almost reciprocating his gaze with an enticing half-smile before she announced, “Mike Chandler?”

With a nonchalant smirk, Mike rose from his seat, placing the magazine he was reading back on the coffee table and strode over to the secretary. “Right this way,” she gestured to the blond 24 year old. Mike walked past her into the connecting hallway, behind him he heard the door close shut and quickened click-clacks on the floor from high heels following behind him.

They walked together throughout the hallway in silence, Mike checking out the young woman’s breasts bouncing up and down in the corner of his eye. After a passing a couple more rooms, they arrived at a final door at the end. “So Mr. Chandler, our CEO’s office is right behind that door where your interview awaits. Word of advice, he likes using trick questions so be careful…” the secretary then brought her hand up to Mike’s arm, gently stroking it before speaking in a sultry voice, “I hope I can see more of you around. Good luck.”

With a wink at that last comment, she left back in the direction they had came. Mike, already having forgotten her warning, felt even more confident in himself. He took a few steps to the office door and knocked twice.

A deep, masculine voice came from the other side, “Come in.”

Mike obeyed, opening the door to his future.

Atop the dark oak desk sat a gold engraved name plate, Walter Hargreaves CEO. Behind the oak desk sat an older caucasian man dressed in a silk black suit, obviously fitted for his body. The man was quite attractive, his muscle was obvious even through his suit sleeve, he was someone into DILFs would have wet dreams about. He had an air of confidence with a hint of ego unmatched. Gelled hair and a clean beard, daunting eyes filled with unmistakable in-control-energy, probably in his early forties. Behind the man was the unbeatable view of LA, glass windows revealing the surrounding skyscrapers and bustling streets below. However, his tie is what stood out the most. It was an average, black tie, but on it was a diamond studded tie-ring that seemed to have a small light blinking on and off.

There was a moment of silence between the two men before the CEO spoke. “Mike Chandler correct? I’m quite familiar with your family. I hope to get to know you just as well.”

Mike smirked and walked across the large room fashioned with various decor such as a clearly expensive satin couch and the grandest platinum flat screen TV he had ever seen. “Thank you sir.”

“Ah don’t mind all those formalities, Walter is fine,” smiled the CEO kindly, hiding a mischievous grin while holding out his hand.

Mike shook his hand firmly and took a seat, a bit more relaxed and feeling as if he was on an equal level to the CEO of the largest corporation in America. “Haha, like Walt Disney,” Mike joked. Walter chuckled and kept up the fake, warm smile. The CEO then glanced at his computer and typed something, which Mike boldly assumed was him either bringing up the interview questions or Mike’s resume.

“As you may know, TG&TF Corp. has around a hundred smaller companies connected to us through an investment system. We give them the money to do whatever business they do and we earn a share of the profit, allowing us to make money here at the foundation without even lifting a finger. Think of it like tree, with TG&TF branching out into many different industries such as food & drink like Coca-cola, high end fashion companies, and even construction & infrastructure. We have our hands in the pocket of practically any company you can think of. So what makes you a great candidate for an accounting position in our corporation?”

After a brief pause Mike began with, “Well for starters I’m an early graduate of Stanford University, top of my class nonetheless-

“No no, I’m not asking for your educational prowess. I’m asking you what about you makes you a good fit,” Mr. Hargreaves interrupted, his tone now a bit more cold.

“My parents-”

“Not asking about your parents either Mike,” the CEO rejected, cutting the younger man off.

Mike was starting to get a bit sweaty, not only confused by the question but frustrated that Mr. Hargreaves wasn’t allowing him to speak.

“If I may Walter-”

Mr. Hargreaves heaved a sighed, “If you have nothing to say about yourself then what makes you think that you’re worth hiring at all?”

Mike began to feel hot with anger, never before in his life has someone treated him with such disrespect. “I think that if you could just let me speak-”

The burly CEO yawned, “I think this interview is done. I don’t think you deserve a job here at TG&TF. Please see my secretary on the way out and let her know you will not be working here.”

Jumping up from his seat, practically fuming at this point, Mike shouted, “Fine! Fuck you and this job. I only wanted you to hire me so I could bang your secretary anyway!”

There was a pause between the two men, only the sound of Mike’s angry huffing filled the room. The tension could be cut with a knife. Slowly rising from his chair, Mr. Hargreaves dropped the last of his nice-guy facade and in a low growl questioned, “…You mean my wife?”

Mike’s anger & frustration quickly became fear and embarrassment as he looked up at the now towering man above him. “Shit I meant umm… your uhh… well, with all due respect sir-” Mike scrambled to recover from his critical mistake.

“You see, even though you absolutely failed the interview, your parents paid me off to hire you. However, I know your type quite well, a spoiled brat that goes around believing you’re better than anyone else in the room. Your resume might be perfect, but no company will ever hire you because of that insufferable arrogance. Even that prestigious university you graduated from, you were only admitted because of your parent’s could sign a check. You can flash around that shit-eating grin and charm everyone you meet but I can see right through you. In fact, just because of that last comment, I think I’ll have to personally take that pompous attitude into my own hands and set it straight. Maybe then we’ll see if you’re good enough to work under me.”

Mike could feel himself shrinking down in terror. “Wait please Walter I’m sorry! I promise I’ll never say anything like that again just please give me one more chance,” Mike begged for the first time in his life. It was hard enough admitting he was wrong but it was even harder pleading to someone he barely knew.

Walter slammed his fist, “That was your first mistake! Who calls a possible employer or even a CEO by their first name you conceited little shit?” He was fuming and Mike shuddered, almost on the verge of tears from the older man’s yelling. With a shaky voice, all that he could mutter were insufficient apologies as he slowly began trying to back out of his chair.

With the press of a button on Walter’s computer, Mike was pulled back down into the seat as hand and leg cuffs appeared out of the chair, shackling him down as a gag covered his mouth. “10 years ago I invested in a start-up company run by a bunch of neuroscientists and physicists that promised me they would change the world. Best decision I ever made. In 3 years, they came back with the most groundbreaking innovation I had ever seen, something they called a Chronivac. A machine that could bend reality to my will that could be easily programmed into something like a computer and controlled remotely somewhere like this tie. What do you think having a machine with the ability to change anything I want, ranging from turning an apple into an orange or completely rewriting a human being’s life, makes me? The most powerful man in the world.”

Fear and anger flooded Mike’s eyes, he was trapped and gagged, flailing around in his imprisonment of a chair in an attempt to get out.

“Now what should I do with you… a total reality check should be sufficient enough punishment yes? What do you think?”

The strap covering Mike’s mouth retracted instantly. “My parents will pay however much money you need just fucking let me go!” the blond boy yelled.

Walter groaned, “Foolish boy, you still don’t realize that this has nothing to do with money. Regardless, your parents don’t care for you. You’re nothing but a leech to them which is why they paid me to hire you just so you’d have a life of your own. They see you like how you see everyone else, especially the less fortunate.”

Furious he had been so carelessly insulted by someone with more power than him, Mike jerked forward from his restraints and spat saliva all over Mr. Hargreaves. “You have no idea what you’re talking about fucker. You’re just some big talk CEO who’s dick went limp-” Right before he could finish his mouth strap returned gagging him of his final say. However, Mr. Hargreaves wasn’t fazed, wiping the saliva from his face with his handkerchief all he had was a grin. “Nothing left to say? Well that talk gave me the perfect idea of what I can do for you. I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted, a job under my corporation, but let’s see if you’ll learn a lesson from a life without your trust fund.”

Mike struggled in his confinement as Mr. Hargreaves brought his hand to his tie-ring and tapped it, causing the previously tiny blinking light to turn on. “How exciting! The last time I transformed someone their family sued me and I had to pay millions for the cover-up. This time though, I’ll be more careful. How about we start with a blank canvas?”

Suddenly, the arm like tentacles shot out from around the room, beginning to rip every last bit of Mike’s clothes off him. In mere seconds, his $1000 suit laid tattered and torn on the floor. His eyes widened with shock as he was left barren, his flaccid cock and balls completely exposed to the evil CEO beginning the first part of Mike’s torment.

“For your new occupation you’ll need far more muscle than that, don’t you think?” provoked the CEO, who touched his tie-ring again.

As if the universe was listening, Mike began to feel a tingling sensitive wash over his body. Though filled with fear and resentment, there was this feeling of masculinity Mike couldn’t ignore. Testosterone coursed through his veins as he flexed what he could of his body while being restrained by his cuffs, causing his body to begin growing. His body stretched out, going from his above average 5’11 to 6’2, but his restraints adjusted to this change and transformed with him. Abs popped in, each one by one, reaching a total of 6 chiseled bumps. The changes moved from his torso to his chest and arms as he flexed causing his twig-like biceps to explode into meaty pythons. Mick’s guns were the stars of his show, veiny chick magnets. They were his pride and joy, always taking the chance to flex for his admirers. He then puffed out his flat chest involuntarily, causing his barren chest to fill out into pillowy pecs. Along with the changes with his upper body, his previously shaven and odorless armpits began to itch and tingle. Beyond his thick ‘ceps laid a sprouting bush of musky body hair, deep in his rank and constantly sweaty pits. His previously shaven pubes began to germinate, becoming a thin blanket of hair behind his thickened cock. However with this change cementing, he began to lose his intelligence in exchange for physical strength. A wave of nausea came over Mick as his IQ washed away. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt himself slowly grow dumber and dumber and by the end, he was unable to even compute 2+2 in his head. History rewrote itself to accustom to this change and instead of the preppy snob he had always been, he became the rich bully that pushed around other kids. 1st Place trophies in science fairs and math competitions became MVP awards and #1 Quarterback plaques, all thanks to endless hours in his mansion’s custom built gym that allowed him to grow into quite the man. A side effect of the new body was that Mick’s limp dick began to change as well, losing a bit of it’s length but enlarging in girth.

Mr. Hargreaves watched in delight as the once snobby know-it-all became the dumb bull of an all-star quarterback that got whatever he wanted with his daddy’s money and big muscles. He could feel a slight erection coming on as he watched the helpless boy change. Feeding into his primal desire, Walter sauntered over to the helpless jock, admiring his work and the first step of his process. Going behind the chair, he placed his hands over Mick’s pecs, beginning to fondle and pinch the hefty breasts, giving into what he wanted to do so desperately, make him his personal cumdump.

Mick began to thrash around to get the ball wealthy man away from his utters. He was filled with rage as his body shimmered with a layer of sweat caused by his attempts at resistance and his eyes only could see red. He could only watch helplessly as the CEO massaged his new perky tits, which deep down Mick knew felt amazing, but he was no faggot right? At the thought of becoming gay, Mick’s meathead-bully personality completely took over, fighting to get out of his cuffs and beat the CEO to pieces, causing Walter to walk back to his desk and continue observing from afar. Alas, no matter how strong Mick was physically, it was no use against titanium restraints. However, the CEO allowed him some freedom. “Remove the gag.”

Instantly the chair retracted the mouth cover. Within seconds, Mick taunted, “You fucking faggot! Let me go so I can beat you the fuck up. Yeah I bet you love seeing naked alphas like me. You wish you could suck my fat cock right now don’t you fag-”

“That’s enough,” Mr. Hargreaves interjected, causing the mouth gag to return instantly. It was true though, he had a wife in his secretary but that relationship was all just to save face in the public eye. He was a faggot but there’s no truth that can’t be hidden with money. Sighing, Walter became lost in thought, wondering how he could ever rid a human being of such a hate. “I think we’ll do your race next, you’ll need to fit in with everyone else in the crew of course…”

The CEO’s wish was commanded as Mickey began to feel a tingly sensation throughout his lanky body. On a subatomic level, the protons of his DNA began to unravel and rewrite themselves as his genetic alleles decoded from caucasian to hispanic. On the surface, his pale white skin cascaded down his body to a browner shade. “You know, I think I’ve always had a taste for latinos. Maybe Mexico… no Nicaragua? Hmm no that won’t do. Ah yes! How about El Salvador?”

Mickey’s whiteness washed away, he was a Salvadoran stud through and through. With this change, his body underwent more and more physical transformations. The first thing to go was a few inches off his height, following the stereotype of latino men not being the tallest. Even so, the more he shrunk, the more it meant his muscle mass compacted into his body. Mickey’s horror faded away as his upper body shrunk and lower body retracted, reaching what he knew he had always been 5’8.5” 174 cm. His previously beer-can cut caucasian cock became his favorite appendage as his foreskin returned to become the hoodie of his chorizo. With the perfect measurements of length and girth, the meat could reach a fully erected 8 inches and was thicker than spanish sausage. His straight dirty blond hair curled up and colored itself dark brown marrón. Michael’s other areas of body hair followed suit, his exposed crotch hair sprouted even further, turning a blanket into quite the bush of curly, musky pubic hair. In return, his body odor became a bit more pungent and wafted off the scent of hispanic spices especias. Though he was no longer the snobby white boy, he still reeked of arrogance. He came from a long line of the richest hispanic families in America, and not only was he loaded, but he was one of the hottest men out there. The hispanic hunk was the best soccer player el mejor jugador de fútbol headed straight for the big leagues, and the girls and guys couldn’t help but fawn over him. Even though he was no longer white, Michael still believed himself to be far better than everyone else. No one was his match, not on the field, not monetarily, and not even in bed. Around campus his reputación preceded him, notorious around campus for having the biggest cock and the highest sex drive. Open to both girls and guys alike, he didn’t care who he fucked as long as he could feel the satisfacción of creaming inside, as if he was shooting his shot into an open goal.

However, the horny CEO knew that a change of race wasn’t enough to rid the young stud of his mentality and ideologies, but he knew the perfect remedy for that. Fully drawn to the idea of ruining the snob’s life and changing him into his ideals, he continued with “Now, how about we strip you of that privilege.”

Suddenly, as something was drilling into his mind, Michael’s screamed in agony, which was muffled due to the gag. He closed his eyes as his memories began erasing away in a burning sensation, all to start his new life on a clean slate.

In reality, the world had forgotten about Mike Chandler, the heir to one of the largest fortunes in America. The Stanford graduate with a bright future and a horrible personality had never existed in the first place, instead people knew Miguel Chavez. In his memories, his mamá, papa y él left their country of El Salvador when he was 10 years old in search of a better life in America. Thankfully, some family that had left for the U.S. years ago were able to help them have a safe trip to their new home in the land of freedom. As soon as they got there, they began to settle down, ingraining new roots in a foreign country where they didn’t speak the language or know the culture. They didn’t have much but they worked tirelessly to create a future. Though undocumented, they were able to get low-paying jobs, rent a home in the barrio of LA, and send Miguel to school. The Salvadoran boy grew up humbled by the world, knowing he had no chance at college due to his poor grades and jock IQ, he focused on building his body and playing the sport he loved, fúbol. However, he knew due to his economic class he would never have a chance at making it big. Once he turned 15 he began to work, hopping from job to job to provide his tired parents with the income they desperately needed. As he got older, he turned from fast food to physical labor and even sex-work sometimes. His bisexuality opened the door for many clients and the muscles he gained through fútbol, construction, and years at the local run-down Planet Fitness made everyone crave a piece of the hispanic himbo. He loved showing off his body and boy was he good at using it, his reputation of being the best fuck around always preceding him. Through it all, he was able to provide para su familia.

All of the long-gone Mike’s memories, including his money, his accomplishments, and his education, were being taken and reformed into Miguel’s memories. In his younger years, he would come from preparatory school to his mansion, driven by his chauffeur. Now that was nothing more than a fantasy to Miguel, as instead he walked home from his ghetto high school to his small, one story house. No longer was his family always absent due to business trips, now he was a mama’s boy that worked tirelessly to provide his undocumented family with the little money he earned. The Chavez’s didn’t have much but what they had was each other, an everlasting familial bond Mike had never known. Even at 24 years old, still lived with them till this day, commuting from the barrio to his job everyday. Miguel was thankful for what he had and though he wasn’t the richest he had an amazing body, a kind heart, and a loving family, who could ever ask for more?

Out of nowhere, an arm-tentacle appeared from under the seat, holding a fleshlight in its grasp. Miguel watched as the arm made its way to his flaccid Salvadoran meat, scooping it up, and beginning to jerk it off. He could only moan as all of his memories of his life as Mike churned in his balls and began to culminate in his cock. After a few more strokes up and down and Miguel even beginning to move his hips up and down to fuck the fleshlight, he moaned through his gag, shutting his eyes as he released the final remnants of Mike into the sex-toy, forever ridding the spoiled white boy from the world.

Mr. Hargreaves observed giddily as Miguel then fluttered his eyes open, awakening a new man. He knew that the boy was nothing more than his slave, he could do anything he wanted with him, a complete puppet for his own personal control. Behind his desk and under his pants, his 10 inch cock was fully erect and dripping with pre as he watched his newest transformation come to fruition. The hispanic hunk looked around the room in a daze, confused on why he was in such an opulent room. Why was he naked? Why was his mouth covered and his arms and legs cuffed to a chair? Was he kidnapped? Now panicked, his eyes shot to the well-dressed daddy standing in front of him. “It’s alright Miguel, remember you’re here to please me…” Mr. Hargreaves reassured with a mischievous grin.

Almost instantly being soothed by the man’s voice, Miguel relaxed and then began to smirk seductively. “Why don’t you let me out of these cuffs papí so we can get to that,” the latin lover cooed in his accented voice. Almost instantly, Mr. Hargreaves disabled the chair’s constraints, allowing Miguel to take his ‘first’ steps out into the world. However, he didn’t run or fight the man, he had no reason to. Miguel was here for his boss’s pleasure, a frequent occurrence. You see, a few years ago Miguel started work at TG&TF Construction, a company owned by one of the largest corporations in the United States. On one of the projects at the corporation headquarters, he met the CEO who personally came to oversee the job. Instantly, the two felt a connection to each other, growing close as Mr. Hargreaves kept an eye on the Salvadoran stud, inviting him out to drink and to have certain talks about future construction projects in his office, alone. Together, the two created a symbiotic relationship, Miguel got promotions in TG&TF Construction, plus money on the side for his services, to provide for his familia and Walter got his own slutty Salvadoran sex-toy.

Slowly strutting over to Walter, Miguel felt up and down his new, naked body to arouse the wealthy tycoon, and it was working. “Sorry about that baby, you know how much I love a little bondage,” his boss flirted.

The horned-up stud couldn’t resist anymore, he felt completely in his element. His body was amazing and undeniably sexy. As he began stroking his uncut 8 inch chorizo and caressing his muscles for Mr. Hargreaves’s viewing pleasure, he could see the DILF’s cock print through his designer dress pants. “Come here,” the CEO demanded, beginning to massage the growing erection under his pants. The escort listened, climbing onto the man and allowing the two to get up-close and personal with each other. They began to passionately make out, hot and horny as Miguel grinded on the older man’s lap. They got sweaty, Miguel tearing off Mr. Hargreaves clothes as he smacked the younger man’s slutty ass.

“Flex for me baby,” the captivated CEO growled.

Miguel obeyed instantly, flexing his thick biceps and exposing his rank pits. His body odor, which was quite tame before, reeked of heavy spices and pungent musk. He was proud of it however, unashamed to let people catch onto the scent of a real man.

“You like that papí?” Miguel flirted as Mr. Hargreaves dove into the sweaty boy’s armpit, lapping up every drop of sweat and tasting the must first hand. Mr. Hargreaves moved from the escort’s pits to his pecs, worshipping the woman-like breasts, suckling on each nipple, and fondling his hefty jugs.

Mr. Hargreaves moved his hands down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning to release his own 10 inch fuckmeat. Miguel’s face turned into a huge grin, as if he was a kid on Christmas morning, as he watched his client’s python flop out. He dropped to his knees and began to suck, bobbing his head up and down what he could fit in his mouth. It wasn’t long until Mr. Hargreaves came, shooting his load straight down the smelly brute’s throat, who swallowed it all happily.

“Thank you for this Miguel, I’ll have my secretary forward you the payment soon,” Mr. Hargreaves obliged greatly through heavy breathing as he buttoned back up his pants.

“No problemo papí. I have to get back to work pero I’ll see you later sí?” the slutty himbo inquired, rising from his knees and walking towards the giant office’s closet to grab his work clothes.

“Of course,” Walter walked over to Miguel, helping his secret lover to put his construction attire on. They looked each other in the eyes before they kissed each other goodbye.

He walked out the room, going back through the hallway he had once been a completely different man in just an hour ago. The busty secretary met Miguel at the door leading to the waiting room, giving him flirtatious smile as he checked her out for a bit. He had just came but he was still horny as hell. However, he was already late to work and didn’t have time for a quickie with his boss’s ‘wife.’ He begrudgingly opened the door but winked a goodbye to her as she followed behind. He stepped into the waiting room and watched as all the men, who were dressed in expensive suits looked up at him. A few of them chuckled seeing the sweaty construction worker out of place while the others punched their nose, unable to handle the pungent stink of a real man. “Fucking coños,” Miguel mumbled under his breath. If there was anything he hated in the entire world, it was people who believed they were better than everyone else because of their money. As he walked out of the waiting room, he heard the secretary call one of the pompous assholes for their interview, but he knew Mr. Hargreaves was going to reject them all anyway.

Later that same afternoon, Miguel had been working for hours at a construction site near downtown LA when he suddenly felt a buzz in his pocket. Curious, he wiped some sweat off his brow and removed his gloves, pulling out his phone to see a notification from Mr. Hargreaves. Opening his messages, his eyes lit up with excitement seeing a picture of his boss’s fully erect cock with an attached message, “Can’t wait to see you again.” Miguel felt his own dick harden in his pants from just seeing his papí’s python, being turned on by the idea of pleasing him again. Miguel smirked and raised his phone up to send a picture reply of his perfect bod that had been sweating for hours under the hot California sun. He was always down for un otra vez.

ignore the fact that i have another tf about a dude named miguel… i completely forgot about it lol. but anyways enjoy and hopefully more stories on the way as i get back into writing

Hey so I'm officially the leader of the science club at college, but none of the other guys really respect that or listen to me... I'm getting desperate so I've downloaded this app. I guess i have to put myself and the club in subject? And let's see... 'I wish the other guys in the club listened to me. I wish I was the kinda guy that could command more respect.' I wonder if that's specific enough... Should be fine I think...

R E S P E C T

You passed out but as you awoke you felt different, more confident, in charge, dare I say bad ass. You were lying in a bath tub, you got up, your body, no your clothes made a strange yet familiar sound, you were in full leather neck to te. yor heavy bots made a loud thud as they exited the tub. You pulled yourself together and looked in the mirror. Staring back was this gorgeous Korean rock star or so you looked the roll now. You felt your new body unaware your wish had transformed the entire Science club into your bad ass Science Gang.

You exited the room as they all quickly gathered around you most of them calling you boss with a look of respect on their new Korean faces. You knew you had a thing for hot Korean boys but you never realized it would work it's way into a wish you made.

You grabbed your tight leather crotch.

You need blown boss? one of them asked, little did you know how much respect exactly you had in your new Gang.

They'd do anything for you know so you decided you loved just how your wish was interpreted.

You looked like a famous K-pop band rather than a science club but you had more respect on campus than any other group or organization. You headed to the clubhouse we're you'd test out your gang's new loyalty.

Thanks Wishmaster!

I really don't know why I agreed to go to the big college party tonight. Coulda just stayed and studied... God I'm getting anxiety. This app's probably a scam but maybe it'll have some placebo affect. I wish I was the kinda guy that fit in at these parties. I wish I could forget being some socially anxious pathetic nerd and just loosen up. Ugh it's so embarrassing I'm even venting to an AI, wish I could forget ever doing this too while I'm at it...

New Life to Live

You suddenly found yourself at the party, every and anything that happened before you arrived there was wiped from your memory.

You were the most popular person there, a popular get as the hottest leather model on the internet was gracing his lowly college's biggest party of the year.

People anf fans flocked to you, anxious no more in fact you enjoyed getting up close and personal with your fans, especially you male fans as they often wanted o get a fell of your leather and your hard body beneath it. Usually at functions like this you'd end up having sex or blow jobs by a handful of guys, but tonight you'd be extra busy as the guys at this party was extremely horny and wanted to get into you tight leather.

Fuck you thought as the mob of guys led you to the back where you proceed to engage in a wild orgy. You loved the attention, was this how all parties you attended ended up? If so this would not be the last one you attend. Fuck what a great new life!

Stefano knows something is wrong, but he cannot tell exactly what’s that. While Stefano’s mind wandered to this weird sensation he has all day long, Remy is slowly tugging his cock as he taps for an enhanced vision to look for his roommate (now boyfriend). Remy yelped in his seat as his softly erect cock instantly reached its full mast the moment he sees how well Stefano’s already are. Hahah, even he already call that dork Stefano instead of his previous name Stephan. Just look at him, trying to decipher why he feels like he’s having a very weird day, of course dummy, you grew 5 inches taller, 70 pounds heavier and turned into an Argentinian-descent hairy sex beast instead of your…..rather plain form, thought Remy, his tugging becomes faster than ever.

A flood of memories hit Remy’s head as his surrounding also changed. Still in the same apartment but the interior has been altered to fit this new reality of living with such a hot horny boyfriend instead of his very neat and organized roommate. The full cabinet filled with books Stephan reduced in its size as it only stored some fitness magazines and some old college textbook Stefano never even bother to open. History of him woken up in the middle of the night to witness the Stephan stressed about his work as he typed on his analysis, briefs, reports or whatever, erased from Remy’s head as his political researcher roommate nowadays stressed because the gyms were closed for quite a long period of time due to the pandemic and Stefano’s almost lost his gym trainer’s job before switching to virtual coaching. And sometimes when Stefano stressed, he would fuck the shit out of Remy and all of those sensation really hit Remy in one sweeping flood of altered memories. He shot his load to that but the memory altering didn’t stop there as he now realized that he really loved to sniff on his boyfriend’s musk. Remy didn’t expect himself to be such a pig to other man’s musk, his desperate attempt to keep his old self eventually failed and he nows holding his boyfriend’s unwashed jockstrap to his nose. Ohhhhh the smell is so exhilarating as he shot yet another volley of cum that landed to the heavily used couch, the place where he mostly jerk himself off to his boyfriend’s musk to spend his days or getting fucked by his sweaty boyfriend who skipped shower in the gym and always fucked Remy in the couch first thing he arrived before doing another one right before bed. The change of reality also affected Remy’s physique. He’s still a witch and knows his witchcraft, but he’s also buffer as his boyfriend put him into a rigorous workout in attempt to make him a gym bunny type of guy or some sort. The witch now packed on some hefty, juics pecs and rather strong frame due to the workout and eating regimen his boyfriend put him under

Still in the middle of his wanking session, a FaceTime from Stefano appeared, oh shit, he’s such a mess, he even got cum in his hair and he’s close to shoot this one! Ohhh boy, but not answering the phone will make Stefano’s pissed. But isn’t pissed Stefano gives the best fuck?