Hey Man, Glad You're Back!

Hey man, glad you're back!

I'm in such a mood right now for Asian muscle, I wish I could be a buff Asian hunk.

A genie with the body of an IFBB pro looks you up and down as you enter the gym. With a dismissive snort, he tosses you a shaker bottle full of some kind of viscous blue shake. “Give that a drink and get lifting,” he grunts.

You take a cautious sip from the bottle, then chug when it turns out to be your favourite flavour. The drink fills your stomach full to bursting, but you can’t seem to stop until you’ve swallowed every drop. You let loose a huge burp and stumble over to the weights.

The workout passes in a haze as you struggle to control your belches. All you can focus on is the constantly increasing weights you lift and the warm, heavy feeling spreading across your body. You barely even notice as your shirt tears off. You just rip the tatters away with your big hands.

Finally, you meet your gaze in the mirror, staring into a pair of black eyes in a distinctly tan face. You blink and shake your head, but the image remains the same, your neat moustache and beard shifting as your mouth twists with confusion.

You try to raise your hand to run it through your short black buzz-cut, but find the movement impossible. Your muscles have ballooned to unreal proportions. Your boulder shoulders prevent you from raising your arms all the way, while your massive biceps restrict their bending. As you stand, your bulky thighs fight for space, and you waddle stiffly to the locker room. Hopefully your pecs aren’t too big for you to stick your arms out to drive, if you can even fit in your car!

Another wish fulfilled.

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

Hi I hope you are doing better. I know you like posers so here's a good one for you. would you rather put on a poser that would turn you into an Asian twunk withe the confidence of 100 men. or would you rather put on a poser that will blow you up into a huge Asian bodybuilder who dreams of competing and going pro but can't because you have 0 confidence and are always embarrassed of you slight layer of bulk, horrible stench and inability to stop burping and rubbing your gut from a painfully bloated 6 pack?

Wow, Definitely the second one, it'd feel fantastic, best feeling would be to put them on, grow into the perfect bodybuilder, sign up to compete but comp day BAM spontaneous forced transformation an hour before I have to go on. Swelling up each second, starting to sweat like a pig, a stench filling the air before falling on my ass and letting out a massive belch, hell why stop at embarrassed sweaty meat head just commit to it and force me to become a huge Asian muscle slob.

Damn, it was a good night sleep. Must have fall into a deep, heavy slumber, but something doesn’t feel so right… Hold up, why do I actually feel heavier? I can feel a heaving mass on my torso, and to be honest - it felt great. My feet are dangling off the bed and my head’s on the headboard. Am I… taller? I need to see this for myself.

I dashed towards the bathroom mirror and I feel my thick feet propelling me towards that direction faster than I ever did before. The switch is at my chest level now. Fuck, is that my pecs? They are huge. Thick and protruding forward so far out. So manly, so powerful. Wait, lights - I need the lights. With a flick of the switch, my dream has turned into reality.

I’m a fucking muscle bull.

I threw up my arms and did a double biceps. It’s so natural now, like I’m meant to do it. My mind’s racing with relentless lust for muscles. My eyes linger on my impossibly jacked body. I must be 8% body fat or lower, that would explain the 8 packs that I’m sporting right now. The chiselled V line leads down to my ever larger genitals.

My grin grew large and wide, as my massive pecs aren’t the only thing that’s protruding so far out.

I'd force TF you into a dumb Filipino bodybuilder that loves to grunt loudly and flex at every mirror in the gym

Filipino is quite specific but I'd 100% be down, transformed into a huge dumb filipino gym bro that can't stop grunting and posing in every mirror, sounds like a dream transformation.

Winding down with a massage sounds like a great idea, especially after a long week at work. All the constant sitting does no good to my back. Not to mention my shoulders are stiff like a rock. Almost on cue, my Facebook feed is flooded with perfectly timed sponsored ads of a new massage parlour not too far from where I am now. “Numan?” That’s a percukiar name for a massage parlour. I may not be interested then, and now I am looking up at the reviews and the opening hours for the place. Well, you definitely got me at “feeling like a new man”, once I’m done with the intense massage therapy. It would cost me a steep hundred dollar, but heck - this is what I need now. So, I called them up and made an appointment for 8pm.

The weather was a little chilly, I was trying my best to get to the place as soon as possible. Anticipating for the worst, but traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought it would. Why didn’t I grab that sandwich before I leave the area? My stomach is grumbling, but I guess that has to wait. I walked into the massage parlour at 7.40pm thinking that it would be too early to start my session, but the receptionist told me that he could get the session earlier for me. Looking over th counter, the 20-something called presumably the massuese and gestured me to go inside. “Room 3” he said. “It’s on your right.” He stood up and gave me a beaming smile. I nodded and walked into the corridor.

I thought it was polite to knock before I enter the room. But, the door slowly glides open with the slightest pressure from my hand. In this dimly lit room, there’s a man who is getting the table ready for the session. Based on quick mental judgement, he should be 165cm and probably around 65kg. He in a uniform - I assume so because it was a T-shirt that says “Numan” on it. “Hey, welcome to Numan! Is it your first time here?” He asked as he pat at the bed, motioning me to get myself propped there. “Yeah, looking to release some knots on my shoulders and back.” He nods and it seems like he probably get that a lot here.

“No worries, leave that to me.” He turns around and grabs a bottle of massage oil. “Take off your clothes and lay here.” “All of them?” “Yeah, we can work with the knots way better like that.” I reluctantly pulls off my top, I know that I need to, but part of my resist the idea - probably because I am a little self conscious about my body. All the office hours definitely are not helping me to stay in shape. I should consider myself lucky for not developing a fullblown dad bod with this job I’m stuck in.

As I lay there on the bed, I feel a warm feeling engulfing me. I have not feel so comfortable for a very long time. “Relax, let’s get started.” He started with my feet first. “How tall are you?” “Oh me? I’m around 180cm.” “Could’ve sworn you’re taller than that, you have a huge feet. These are size 12 right?” With that, he pushed his knuckle into my feet and it cracked so good. “Eh, what? Yeah, you’re right.” My mind got confused for a moment, I mean I’m size 12 right? Why would I think I’m size 9 then? I shook off the feeling and tried to forget about it.

He continued to work on my legs. It was surprisingly painful, I didn’t know those dress shoes cause so much tension on your calves. “You’re tight here too, must be from work. Do you move around a lot?” A wave of warmth enveloping me from below. Wasn’t sure if my mind is playing trick again on me, but I feel almost as though as I’m lighter, just a tad. “Yeah, I do. Better than sitting around all day, am I right?” I chuckled, trying to mask my confusion inside.

“Are you a personal trainer? I’m guessing so based on the muscle knots you developed from all the resistance training.” By then, he’s working on my quads. Like a wave, the warmth slowly radiating from my core and I feel almost as if as I’m expanding. I tried my best to keep eyes closed and pretend there’s nothing happening. “How are you so good at this?” I quickly responded to him before there’s too long of an awkward gap in between.

“You know, we meet a lot of people here. But someone as big as you, is quite a dead giveaway.” He laughed. “Come on, I’m not that big.” Because really it isn’t - 90kg with my height is average if I’m ever going to compete in a show. “How often do you work out every week?” “ I try to go 4 times a week.” “Wow, 6 times a week? Probably 2 hours per session? That’s real dedication.” The familiar warmth envelops me again and I tug the blanket on me. It almost felt like it’s a little small on me. The bed squeaks under my weight, hope it won’t fail me now. I get that a lot, broke my fair share of chairs with my 100kg worth of sheer weight.

“Not sure how you keep your waist so tight, these abs of yours are truly a washboard.” I’m proud of my size 28 waist, it accentuates my quads and back very well. His knuckles of steel worked on my back like a miracle, releasing the knots from all the deadlifts I’ve been doing day in and day out. “Your back is so wide and thick, almost too hard for me to work them in.” I intentionally flexed my lats, giving him the full scope of the challenge he asked for - all the lats pulldown and rows don’t go to waste with these sick back.

He then turned me around and worked on my shoulders as he moved upwards to the upper torso. “Bet you don’t wear sleeves anymore with these bowling balls you call shoulders.” It’s true, shirts are so irritating to wear. They almost never fit, I resolved to tanks wherever I go to, as much as possible. Or shirtless even, at the gym or at home. Nobody seems to mind, so why should I? “Never seen such thick pecs in my life, guess shirt is out of the equation too, right?” He’s right, my biggest pride is my massive pec shelves, no matter how much I train, they are always 2 steps ahead. I bounced my pecs playfully, anticipating the warmth to fill my pecs up and recede slowly.

He accidentally flicked my nipple as he moved to my neck and I jumped a little. “Sorry, didn’t know they were so sensitive, don’t worry about the mess if you do get to excited.” He apologises, and I blushed. I guess it’s on me as well, these nipples are just way too sensitive for their own good, sometimes a simple cold breeze gets the best of me too. “Don’t worry, man. It’s all good.” I feel blood starts to gush down my groin. And the warmth that I’m familiar now is coming back again. My cock hardens almost instantaneously.

There’s nowhere to hide and he definitely see it. “This happens a lot here too.” His smile reassures me and I am more relaxed now but my cock ain’t going down without a fight. “If you don’t mind me asking, how big is your cock? 10” hard?” Something in me felt a dissonance but part of me knew it was right from the beginning. “Yeah, gets bigger when I’m really excited.” “Oh, hiding a foot long salami inside?” I chuckled, because it’s true. I can almost feel my cock pushing the tent higher now, my face is probably red like crazy now.

“Naw, and you’re not shy to show it off. With a body like yours, why not?” My mind grows fuzzy for a bit, and a sense of pride fills me from within. Damn, it sure felt good to get compliments like these. Erotic, even. “You love the attention, don’t you? People eagerly wanting to worship you?” “Hell yeah, you want some of these?” I flex my biceps hard to show off my 21” guns.

“Don’t mind if I do,” He smirks and locked the door from inside. I stood up and gave him a show of a lifetime.

Oh shit, I can’t seem to stop the growth that I’ve accidentally activated! It’s adding a pound of muscle every second, and I’ll be too damn huge by the end of the hour. I need to do something about it before it’s too late, damn it!