I Request Some Pretty Interesting Changes. I Like To Have The Body Of A Porn Star With A Nice Cock And

I request some pretty interesting changes. I like to have the body of a porn star with a nice cock and balls to go with my buff bod.

A porn star, huh?

Well, I guess I could manage that. I’m curious though, why a porn star? Is it cause you like sex? People looking at you? People getting off to you and your body? Do you want all that attention? To have the power to make guys wet just by looking at you?

Yeah, that’s it isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes. The way they’re glossing over from just hearing me say all these facts that you know have always been true but you’ve tried so hard to keep bottled up your whole life. 

I see you groping yourself, feeling your modest package between your fingers. I bet you want that to be bigger huh? Fuller? Longer? Thicker? Yeah, I heard about that one time your junk split the front of your briefs because you bought the wrong size before. I guess that’s why they say the only thing more swollen than your ego is your groin.

And you want a “buff bod” to go along with that enhanced package too? Just to further amplify the sex appeal dripping from your very being? That can easily be arranged. Big tits, thick arms, thicker legs. Shoulders that fill nearly every door frame you walk through. The power that radiates from your body is pretty damn infectious huh? No wonder they call your work almost hypnotic.

You’re kind of a little young to be a big, buff porn star though. I mean, especially one with such a huge reputation of making guys bust within minutes of watching your videos. What are you actually? 33? 37? What’s that? You can’t remember? Aww, c’mon you big lug, use your head and think for a minute! 

No, no that head. Well, shit, I guess we can only have one head engorged at a time when you’re prepping for your next shoot. Yeah, you still need to get that scruff trimmed up a bit, your body greased up, and all those clothes off. How much time do you have until your shoot begins? 14 minutes…? 7:26 is an oddly specific time to have a shoot scheduled. Oh, it’s at 7:30? Well then you have 18 minutes to finish getting ready, you dork. 

What’s wrong? Your head feels weird? Don’t worry, dude. That’ll probably pass when you finish your shoot. It’s just the intelligence draining out a bit. I wouldn’t freak. I mean, when your a famous porn star, who needs smarts? Right?

Good luck with your film today! I’m sure you and your scene partner are going to have a ride neither of you will ever forget.

Admirable Confidence

--- Originally posted on 2020-05-01 by makingrealalphas ---

You just entered the subway and this handsome boy already staring at you with that smirk. You are literally the only one in this cart so his intense staring give you all sorts of feeling. And fuck, look at that damn bulge in his jeans, he is packing! As a bi with a girlfriend, this boy definitely can make you look the other way. But you are faithful to your current girl and you’re going for a quick lunch with her before the office hours start again.

Even when the train already start its move to the next station, he keeps looking at you intently. You feel itchy and uneasy with his stare as you scratch your legs. The dress pants feel a little bit tighter than usual but you let it go.

He bites his lip, he smirks and he literally checking you out. When you are uneasy, you do things with your hair so you tried to look away and fix your hair. Your facial feature hardened as you look away, cheekbone pronounced and your eyebrow becomes thicker. Your caffeine-stained, imperfect teeth turned into pearly straight white as your jawline become defined. As your finger moved through your strand of brunette hair, it turned darker and gelled and eventually become jet black, your eyebrow and pit hair followed suit. You then spread your leg a little wider, your jeans so tight hugging your toned legs and ass it makes you uncomfortable, fuck this whole cart is empty so why the fuck you’re so modest and shut your leg? You’re a man, a man with a fucking big dick so why bother shut your leg when you can spread it out wide to give your little guy a breather? As your legs spread, you also extend your arm which become tanner and also veiny, now visible as your long-sleeved sweater replaced with a collared short sleeved shirt. You then look at the handsome boy in front of you

“What you lookin’ at?” You said aggresively

He just smiled and replied casually

“Nothing bro, just admiring your confidence. I’ll definitely pop those button too like you if I get abs that ripped,”

And without your realization, your soft belly turned into ripped abs with Adonis bet so goddamn clear. Huh, this kid is fucking bold complimenting you like that on public, what if you are homophobic? An empty cart like that can trigger a homophobe if he got hit on but of course you’re feeling good by the compliment, you’re bi and compliment from such a handsome guy who have a raging hard on definitely aroused you

Too bad this is your station before you can make out with that handsome dude. So you slip your number to his jacket pocket and leave him with a wink as you walked out high-spirited to meet your girlfriend

For @ultram0th2 hope you enjoy it. 💙

"Derek, this is insane. Are we really going to break into a gym owner's office in broad daylight?" Stiles asked.

"No we aren't." Derek told the younger man.

"Good, because seriously you had me worried you were losing it dude."

"I'm going to be breaking in while you stand guard." Derek cuts Stiles off.

"I retract my previous comment." Stiles muttered. 

"Derek, I get you're suspicious of this guy, but this isn't an excuse to break into the guy's office." Stiles went on to say only for Derek to ignore him and head towards the gym owner's office.

Derek can hear Stiles whispering insults and curses at him, but the werewolf ignores them. He knows this looks crazy, but he swore he smelt magic on this guy when he walked by him. The scent of magic was strong enough to make Derek worried the guy would be up to something. Since when someone's magical aura is that strong to sense it means they have casted a powerful spell recently. 

So Derek had followed the guy to this gym, the one he realized opened up recently. Derek had called Stiles for back up to keep watch while Derek checked the guy's office out when he left. 

Normally he would do this at night, but Derek felt the strange nagging feeling within him that told him he needed to check out this guy now. 

Picking the lock to the guy's office was simple, Derek looking around to make sure no one was watching him. Glancing back at Sfiles who gave Derek the middle finger, to switch Derek rolled his eyes at the gesture before he steps inside the office.

A few minutes later Derek found nothing. No strong magic auras, no spellbound, no artifacts filled with magic, nothing but mundane office supplies. Derek was confused, he was so sure this man smelt of magic. He must have been mistaken and feels embarrassed over how rash he acted.

"Well, Stiles is going to enjoy being right." Derek murmurs to himself while he heads for the door. 

"Or maybe you were right to suspect something." A deep voice says and Derek turns around to see the gym owner standing there against the back wall of the office he eyes Derek with an amused look as he pushes himself from the wall and stalks towards Derek.

"How did you get in here?" Derek asked.

"Are you really asking me how I got into my own office?" The guy asked. "The question is why are you in my office."

"Not that I'm complaining. I do love seeing a handsome young man like you in here." The older man says while he checks Derek out shamelessly. 

Derek can smell magic on the older man and he asks him why that is.

"Ooh a werewolf. I haven't come across one of you in some time." He says, sounding excited.

"But to ease your worries I'm not up to any evil doing. I'm simply using my magic to help create loyal employees to work for me. Nothing nefarious about a man wanting to make sure he gets good employees is there?" He asked.

Derek stares at the man with a look of disbelief. Surely this man wasn't serious was he? By the way the guy was looking at Derek and Derek can tell he was telling the truth.

"You can't just mess with people with magic." Derek says.

"Sure I can, it's so easy." The man says smugly.

"Here, how about a demonstration." He adds and grins wider. Derek feels a cold chill go down his spine and he groans. His eyes go wide when his torso suddenly erupts with solid pounds of pure muscle that force his shirt to tear apart at the seams.

His pecs balloon outwards into a set of large muscle tits that already feel so sensitive to touch and bounce when he walks.

"Bro, the fuck ya doin to me?!" Derek shouts. His voice sounds different. Deeper than it was just a few moments ago. 

"You wanted to snoop around my office to uncover my dark secret, so I'm just rewarding you by making you one of my modeled employees."

"You're going to be such a hot fucking personal trainer. Aren't you Devon?" The man says.

"Of course I am boss." Derek blurts out to reply without wanting to. He wanted to tell the guy his name was Derek, but instead he cradles his head in hisnhands and moans when his head aches. He can feel a thick cloudy haze fog his mind, he can feel his memories flicker in his mind. Seeing flashes of foreign memories fill his mind. 

Derek's hair grows a little longer and turns blond. His face ripples with his features sharpening and becoming more defined till Derek now looks like the kind of guy someone can expect to find working at a gym.

Derek holds onto his last fragments of his former self, refusing to let them fade from his mind. But when the man he called boss comes up to him. Gently touching Derek's shoulder and making him feel a spark of warmth traverse through him does that last part of Derek get locked away in the dark corners of his own mind. 

"Ready to get put there and put our new clients to work?" The boss asked.

"I'll be sure to work them real good for ya boss." Devon says proudly. When he turns away to leave he doesn't notice his torn and tattered clothes repair into a yellow tank top that shows off his impressive bulk fairly well. Along with sweatpants that hug his large ass and outline his fat cock for all to see.

Devon walks out of the office and takes a few steps when a skinny man approaches him.

"Hey, did you happen to see a dark haired guy with a scowl in there?" The smaller man asked.

"Sorry Broski." Devon tells him and bumps his shoulder into the smaller guys when he walks by. Not aware of the confused look he gets from the smaller man who watches Devon head out to the gym's main floor while he rubs his tingling shoulder from where Devon touched it. 

Identity Death

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

As directed by @mrrharper

“Endless war will end our world!” Alan shouted.

“Stop funding our military!”

Alan was amongst the hundreds of protestors at the courthouse fighting against the proposed budgetary reforms. Schools, roads, transportation, parks, environmental protections agencies–they were all on the line. Through the presented bill, thousands of institutions would be shut down as billions of dollars would be rerouted towards a single entity: the military.

“The military corrupts! Stop the brainwashing!” Alan spat. He had organized this event under his alias, a popular political blogger on multiple social media outlets. Although his voice was loud and aggravated, Alan's physical appearance was anything but. He wore a baby blue tee and white-washed skinny jeans. 5’7 with bleached hair. All he needed was a rainbow somewhere to perfect his twink look. But he was not here to make that kind of statement. He was at the protest to make another form, something that could gain traction. Peering across the crowd, Alan saw his chance. 

A few of Alan’s fellow protestors were bombarding one of the towering guards with jeers. They scrutinized him, although it appeared none of their words got through the soldier’s heavy artillery padding. In fact, the solider stood proud in his position, dominantly poised with his chest puffed up in pride. Alan approached the guard slowly, noticing he remained perfectly still as the protestors continued to insult him. Without thinking twice, Alan approached and made his move. 

“How about you show us what they’re really funding, dickhead?”

Alan threw a fist at the soldier, putting all his strength behind the movement. Due to the crowds, the soldier did not recognize the motion until it was too late. Alan’s knuckle dove right into the much taller man’s neck, ricocheting into the muscular, masked chin. Instantly, there was a cheer from the crowd at the successful blow, but it was quickly hushed.

“You pathetic cocksucker,” the soldier growled. In a flurry, the once peaceful statue became a merciless brute, swinging down and dragging Alan out of the crowd. Before he knew it, Alan found himself handcuffed with the soldier escorting him off into the enemy’s territory.

“You can’t do this! This is illegal!” Alan cried out. 

“Shut your whiny mouth.” As soon as they were out of public sight, the soldier slapped Alan hard across the face. The warmth of blood soon filled his cheeks where the bruise began to bloom. Alan made sure not to react, but he could not hide the worry in his voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The barracks, you fairy prick.”

The soldier brought Alan to a building not too far from the protest lines. He guided them down numerous hallways, Alan losing track before they even made it halfway there. There were checkpoints, various nods, and some curt conversations with other soldiers, but nobody questioned about Alan or the situation. Eventually, Alan was tossed into a small makeshift bedroom, only holding a cot and a pile of unwashed clothes.

“Get undressed,” the soldier demanded.

“Why should I listen to you?”

Alan was met with another forceful assault, this time a punch to his gut.

“Cause I’m First Sergeant, maggot, which means out of the two of us, I’m in charge.”

Alan scoffed. “Is that your name: ‘First Sergeant’?”

“First Sergeant QF24,” the soldier gruffly shot back.

“That’s not a name either,” Alan replied. 

“Been in service so long I don’t need a civilian name.”

Alan wanted to jump on this, make a point about how this was evidence of the dangers of the military, but First Sergeant continued.

“While my identity is real, I assume the one you were about to give me is not. What do you go by, something like that 'AlanActivist' snot?”

Alan blushed, believing that his pseudonym had been cool and unique.

“It’s about time you considered that maybe it is not the military that enforces this ‘identity death’ you all are so worried about, but your own belief system.”

“You can’t be serious,” Alan snarked, surprised at the soldier’s intelligent argument. First Sergeant was however humorless, once again pointing to the pile of discarded clothes.

“Get dressed, degenerate.”

The soldier placed one of his giant, gloved hands behind the twink’s back and pushed him towards the pile. It appeared to Alan as a giant heap of army green and camouflage. Slowly but hesitantly, he began to strip himself of his clothing, hoping to avoid any further hazing. Once down to his underwear, he silently pleaded that he would not have to drop anything else.

“Soldiers go commando, sissy.”

First Sergeant quickly appeared behind Alan before ripping his underwear clean off, exposing the twink’s bare bottom and small package to the world. Alan quickly covered himself up with one hand before leaning down towards the pile. He grimaced, his fear no longer overriding the powerful musk seeping from the military cloth. First Sergeant chuckled at his disgust from behind.

“Aren’t homos supposed to like that kind of thing?” he asked, before grabbing the back of Alan’s head. “Go on, get a better whiff of it!” Amused, First Sergeant plunged Alan’s head into the musky pile of clothes. Alan’s oxygen supply was cut off, forcing him to inhale the overpowering masculine fumes.

“You idiots never consider that being in the military is hard work. It’s not all fun and guns.” First Sergeant smothered Alan’s head further. “‘Bout time you realize what it’s like, standing on the front line all day, hot and sweaty and random strangers berating you for protecting their country, their freedom.”

The military body odor seeped into Alan’s system, numbing his body and clouding his mind. By the time he was pulled away, the naked twink struggled to form a coherent thought.

“Much better,” First Sergeant noted the lopsided smile on the twink’s face. “Now, fit yourself into some tactical gear.”

Without questioning it, Alan followed the soldier’s command. He did not know every single piece of equipment that went into the common soldier’s uniform, nor did he understand the procedure to follow, but somehow Alan managed to get the attire onto his body.

Combat pants, military-grade socks, gore tex boots. Camouflage button-up, hardshell jacket, belt with holster and magazine pouches. Shooting gloves, army print hat, face mask. It took a minute longer for Alan to place every minor piece of tactical protection onto himself, but finally his smaller frame was completely covered, dwarfed by the oversized gear.

“Looking like a real soldier there,” First Sergeant mocked. “Now let’s actually make you one.”

Already covered in the musky clothing, Alan’s intellectual ability had been dulled considerably. But when First Sergeant approached, clutching Alan’s head once more before shoving it into his wet armpit, his brain completely halted. Coming straight from the source, the soldier’s stench wafted past all Alan’s barriers, taking control immediately. Its first instruction was to keep sniffing, its second was to conform.

With a chuckle, First Sergeant watched as Alan’s body began to expand underneath his hold. The shrimpy twink grew inside of the tactical gear, filling it out properly in every direction. Muscular arms filled the sleeves of the jacket, meaty hands stuffing the crevices of the gloves. The vest became as padded on the back as it was in the front, juicy pectorals and rigid abdominals forcefully pushing against the fabric. 

Thicker thighs padded the pants, bloated feet crowded the massive boots. Two muscular buttocks crammed the seat of Alan’s pants. A lantern jaw and cleft chin became prominent underneath the face mask. Buzz cut hidden by the cap, deeper voice waiting to confirm with “Sir, yes sir!” First Sergeant even noticed the prominent padding his new soldier was developing beneath the belt. When he ultimately removed Alan from his hold, the man before him now stood at the same domineering height.

“Good, now just stand still for one moment.”

Even if he wanted to, Alan could not move. The musk was still lingering in his mind, holding him steady as First Sergeant deposited an obnoxious military headset onto Alan’s head. He then plugged the headset into a walkie-talkie before tuning it to an empty channel. A robotic voice began looping into Alan’s ears, along with a few simple tones to open up the receptive pathways in his brain.

“Ready to get back out there?” First Sergeant asked, knowing his fellow soldier could not hear him. With a smirk, he escorted the dumbfounded subordinate out of the room, pacing slowly as Alan absorbed the propaganda. It was simple phrases, nothing too complicated but through repetition effective on the psyche. “Military good,” “pacifism bad”. “Nationalism good,” “multiculturalism bad.” “Masculinity good,” “progressivism bad.” The messages were rudimentary, but deliberate.

Once they stepped back into the open, fresh air, Alan’s consciousness resurfaced. He tried to fight back against the rampant messaging, doing his best to tune out the audios as the First Sergeant led him back to the front line. Alan was being attacked on all fronts: his morals, his identity, his sexuality. Every time he turned away to defend one trait, it was like he lost another. He felt himself dwindling, chipping away.

Before long, the two stood directly in front of the courthouse, mere feet away from their first encounter. First Sergeant loaded the new soldier up, arming the man with a weapon and other items necessary in case of an emergency.

“Let’s see if you’re done cooking yet.” First Sergeant looked directly into his subordinate’s eyes, pleased with their reflective quality. He then removed the headphones.

“Name and rank, soldier?” he saluted. The other man fell into place, mirroring his actions.

“Private Aaron Steel, MH36 sir!”

First Sergeant smiled. The name change was a good sign of transition, but complete removal would have been preffered.

“Ready for the task, soldier? Will you be loyal and obedient to the greatest nation? Follow every instruction in the name of tradition?”

The soldier nodded his head quickly, “Affirmative, sir.”

“Alright then.” First Sergeant replaced the headphones back onto the private’s head, knowing a little more time would do the trick. “Dismissed. Get back to work, private.”

“Sir yes sir!”

First Sergeant strolled back to his command at the front line. The new private monitored the crowd, absorbing his commands as he scanned for any disturbances.

Hey, i'm a nerdy gay bottom and I've never been able to actually get muscle or even have some definition, if you could help with that it be great but can I keep my intelligence I have a report coming up and want to be able to understand it

Ah, so you’re looking for some “definition.” Looking to “define” those muscles a little bit. Don’t worry, I think I have an idea, and trust me when I say you won’t be loosing any of your intelligence. If anything, this transformation is going to make you smarter.

But there are two things we need first. First, these glasses. Yeah, I know you don’t need glasses to read, but these aren’t just any reading glasses. These special lenses help to “distort” things, help to “broaden” your gaze. When you wear them, things might seem “larger…”

You’re not getting it, are you? Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought. But not to worry, that’s going to change soon. The second thing we need is a dictionary. 

Yup, that’s right. The only muscle you’ll be working out today is that one in your head. But after we’re done, you’re going to be spending just as much time at the gym as you do at the library.

Now, the trick to getting real definition is to learn some real definitions. You’ll see what I’m talking about in a second. Let’s crack that thing open, because the first word I want you to define is “Swell.” Can you do that? Wow, look at you. On it already. What does it say?

SWELL (verb, used without object)

       1. to grow in bulk, as by the process of growth.

       2. to increase abnormally in size, as by inflation.

       3. to bulge out, to well up.

I’m sure by now you understand what I mean. Can’t see the page very well over those swollen pecs, can you? Might seem a little bit farther down, as your ass is practically a cushion in and of itself. And your arms. Man, it’s funny what just a couple words can do. You barely fit in that t-shirt anymore your muscles are so big! Why don’t you take it off, get more comfortable.

There you go big guy. We can find you more clothes later. We’ve still got two more words to go. Ready? The next word is “Sprout.”

SPROUT (verb, used without object)

       1. to begin to grow; shoot forth and develop.

       2. to develop or grow quickly.

I think I can see what’s sprouting on you. Feel that tingling on your chest? Like someone pouring champagne bubbles out of every pore? Don’t worry, it’s just the forrest of hair sprouting on your chest. A thick mane to accompany your mountainous pecs. And that’s not the only thing its complimenting. No one is ever going to be able to look at your legs again without popping a boner or getting wet; you’ve defined a perfect amount of hair to dust those thick-log like thighs about to burst out of your shorts. Take them off, you’ll see what I mean.

Yeah, I would definitely invest in some bigger pants. But wait! There’s still one more word. You didn’t think you were done, did you? Trust me, this is a really big word. Super important. Define, “Erect.”

ERECT (adjective)

       1. upright position or posture.

       2. raised or directed upward.

       3. hard and firm, standing upright.

Don’t fight it. Just let it happen. Let the feeling of pain and pleasure sweep through your muscular body and down to your new, 10 inch penis. Your cock was always meant to be this long. It’s less of a cock now though and more of a weapon. Hard as solid concrete, long as a dagger. Not to mention it spurts like a fire hydrant when you cum. But you’re a bottom, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem… I hope…

Welp, I’ve done about all I can do, which is to say I’ve turned you into literally the perfect man. Solid adonis muscles, thick coat of manly hair, and a dick that people are going to make a religion out of. But deep down, you’re still the same, nerdy bottom with a big project due very soon. I wouldn’t worry about that though. Just keep those glasses on and you’ll always be the smartest guy in the room.

And the hottest…

The rings: Jake

--- First time writing my own story ---

--- Please let me know what you think ---

Just before the second year of college rolled around I was met with the unfortunate news that my best bro, my roommate, would not be making it to the second year.

Turned out he'd been spending too much time partying, and too little studying. Not even the coach could save him anymore.

Sure, being on a sports scholarship meant studying isn't your main priority but you still had to maintain your grades somewhat if you want to make it to the next year.

To make things worse, my new roommate turned out be some nerd.

Jacob was your average nerd that would be holed up in his room most of the time.

He didn't really bother me. It's just... I had hoped to have a new bro to go to the gym with instead of some wimpy kid.

Color me surprised when the guy came out of his room out of nowhere to ask me to help him some project he was doing for some course.

Something about trying some "telepathy" gear he was working on he was working on for a biomed class.

To be honest it all sounded really like some science mumbo jumbo to me. I must admit I wasn't too excited so I thought I'd struck a deal instead: he'd tutor me for my calc class and I'd try his stupid gear thing.

He seemed happy with the proposal and told me it'd be ready for testing in a couple days.

--

As I stepped out of the bathroom after just taking a shower I was met by Jacob holding two comically large rings which almost looked like miniature hula hoops.

It had been a week since he'd asked me for the favor. To be honest, I'd already forgotten about our agreement.

Though I was a man of my word and did need some help with calc, not wanting to end up like my old buddy.

He signaled for me to sit on the couch as he started to explain all about his new gadget.

Supposedly, the pair of rings were some new technology he was working on. He explained that it allowed the wearers to communicate with each other as if the other person was simply a voice in their head.

I accepted one of the nearly metal rings, the only discernable difference being a smaller engraved letter T on the side indicating that I would be on the receiving end according to Jacob.

Not thinking much of it, I held it over my head as he instructed.

As I pressed the button on the side of the device it quickly shrank, tightly sealing itself on my head.

Jacob, doing the same, had grabbed a small little tablet whilst the ring sealed itself on his head.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, let's get this over with" I replied back.

A large shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he pressed a button on the ring.

"You jocks are real dumbasses, you know. Should've been more skep--" the nerd started saying before he suddenly stopped.

The twig had frozen right in his tracks. He looked as if his soul had left his body.

Testing if he was actually there, I waved my hand in front of his face.

Nothing.

Huh? What the fuck?

Okay, this is kinda weird.

I need to get rid of this ring.

It didn't budge. Not only that, this shitty thing just zapped me as well.

Hmm, think. The nerd mentioned something about telepathy, right?

Hey nerd, you hear me?

No response. Fuck.

I'm gonna look like some freak with this stupid headband there has to be something...

Maybe I should just try the telepathy again.

Hey Jacob, say something!

In an almost comical fashion what seemed like a corpse just uttered one word.

"something"

You've gotta be kidding me.

Uh, let's try something else.

Jacob, jump!

Without skipping a beat he jumped.

This is kinda awesome...

Jacob, explain what your plans were with these rings

"My intention was to use these rings to transform you into a nerd as well as do something other things..."

Explain what you mean with transform

"These rings are a technology I devloped that allows you to transform your target however you like by giving suggestions"

Heh. So, if I told him to grow a pair that would work?

As expected the nerd briefly twitched before a visible bulge started forming.

The Jacob's bulge wasn't the only thing growning larger in the room.

I noticed that my dick started to chub up as well, fueled by this new power I had just obtained.

I realized that with these rings I could do anything.

I could still get the roommate I wanted. And I could make him however I wanted.

--

Time to get to work.

Strip

The pudgy nerd took care of undressing, now showcasing his unimpressive body.

I could not help but feel pity for the guy.

He lacked any muscle definition. The only thing he had going for him was his now bull-sized nuts that looked mismatched compared to the rest of his body.

I should at least give him an appropriate cock to match.

Jacob, add a couple more inches to your cock

His average 5 incher started growing rapidly, reaching a monsterous size of what looked to be 8 inches.

I circled around him, proud of my work while I looked for the next area of improvement.

To be honest, there was a lot of work to be done. Maybe a rough approach would be better.

Adjust your body fat percentage to 7%

His already slim frame now became quite boney.

Add 40 lbs of muscle mass

The same arms that once lacked any muscle mass now had biceps that would rival an amateur body builder.

Veins also started bulging out, running from his large mitts upto his biceps.

The changes didn't stop there, however.

A pair of meat slabs started to form on his chest as well.

Unable to resist, I snuck up behind Jacob to fondle his newly formed pecs whilst also admiring his growing traps.

My hand went slipped down further, sliding into the deep crevasse formed by his 6-pack abs.

It seemed that Jacob hadn't missed leg day either. His legs now looked more like tree trunks that would be easily able to squash a watermelon.

To make the picture complete Jacob's feet had to match as well.

You've always worn a size 13

His feet grew large and veins appeared, much like what had happened to his previously tiny hands.

You've always prefered to keep your hair in a quiff

Jacob's unruly mop had started to style itself in a trendy quiff.

Now, flex for me

Jacob now struck a double bicep pose, his already large biceps forming sizeable peaks.

----

"You mentioned something about jocks and being a real dumbasses didn't you, Jacob?"

Ah, wait.

You will wake up

"Huh, what... Why do I feel heavy..." Jacob murmured before realizing it was caused by his new physique.

"Wait! No. You were supposed to get the receiver not the transmitter! How did I- argh" Jacob said fully grasping the situation now.

"I don't want to be some dumb brute!" Jacob told me, now reaching for the ring.

Don't move

Without missing a beat Jacob froze right in his tracks.

"What are you planning to do to me, you stupid jock?" he asked.

"Stupid jock, huh" I mocked.

"It's funny you say that because right now you look more like a jock than me." I told him.

"Perhaps you just don't think like one... yet" I snarked.

"I remember you said something before. Something about jocks being real dumbasses?"

"Wait no! Please-"

You've always been a dumb

"I- uh.. Hng.. What did I say again...?"

"A real jock wouldn't go by a nerdy name like Jacob, now would he?"

You have always been called Jake

"Bro, I don't know who the fuck you're talking about."

"Ah, nothing to worry about bro" I reassured him.

You only care about is lifting weights and partying. You never bothered with studying.

Oh, and you may move again

"So bro, what's up what are we doing here? We should go to the gym." He asked me, completely oblivious as what happened not even minutes earlier.

"You dumbass, we just got back from the gym." I told him.

"Oh, huhuh, sorry bro, I guess I forgot haha" he replied.

When I call you by the nickname brute, you will obey my instructions, no matter what I tell you

"Hey Brute, won't you help me with getting these rings off?" I ask.

"Of course, anything for you bro" he replied.

A bro is never afraid of a little bromance

A little fire in his eyes lit up.

"So bro, what do I need to do?" he asked.

"On the count on three, we both press the button on the side of the ring. I think that's the only way to get them off" I explained.

"Ready?" I asked.

3.. 2... 1..

I immediately felt relief as the tight ring was now removed from my head.

"Brute, give that ring to me. You never want to touch that ring again. You know big bro will handle it for you" I instruct Jake.

"Here you go, bro" he said handing the ring.

I put the rings on the nearby coffee table.

I was happy. I now got myself the perfect roommate. And, if I needed it I could give additional to my brute.

"Hey Jake, there's a party tonight. You wanna go?" I asked him.

"Of course bro, always down"

"Before that, I've got to ask something" I said, sitting back down on the couch.

"I need a little help with something" I smirked, turned on by all the effort put in transforming my roommate

My dick had become rock hard and was begging for attention.

"You think you can help a bro out?"