A Gamer's Dream

A Gamer's Dream

--- Originally posted on 2018-01-14 by paradisetf ---

You ever played the Sims? Maybe Fallout 4? Any game with character customization really.

Ever wanted to BE the character you made? Most likely, right? Well, then you’ll love The Gaming Paradise.

But, do you know how this mystical shop came to be? Well, let’s start with our favorite Admin.

Alex was your normal hardcore gamer. His life was basically eat, sleep, and play games. It was always fun for him. He could make the characters do whatever he wanted.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t too kind on that front. He was picked on constantly. Whether it was his lanky body or how he obsessed over games, one way or another, some jock found a way to humiliate him.

But that all changed one day when a package arrived on his porch.

“Huh? I didn’t order any game. Why is this here?” He said, puzzled.

Last he checked there were no new games releasing, and certainly not from… wait, who even was this from?

Alex looked down and saw a note on the ground, underneath the box. He picked it up and opened it, being careful to not rip the paper.

“You are now the admin. Play this to begin. -L” It said.

Confused yet intrigued, Alex grabbed the box and stepped inside.

He ran into his room, opening the box and seeing a disc for the PlayStation. Kicking off his shorts he placed the disc inside and sat down on his couch.

“Welcome, Admin. Please enter your name.” The game said.

Alex wasn’t sure what the game meant by “admin”, but he shrugged it off.

Entering his name, an avatar popped up. When it did, he jumped. It looked… exactly like him!

Alex was tempted to turn the game off and throw it out… but something pulled him in. It was like he was destined to play it. Alex sighed as the game spoke again.

“Please confirm the changes you’d wish to make to your avatar.” It said.

“Well, it’s just a game… and my TV does have a built-in camera… so that’s probably how it made it.” He thought, trying to rationalize what was happening.

He thought about what he wanted to look like… big, beefy, like those damn jocks that always pushed him around.

He wanted to be hot, much more attractive then them. He wanted to be smarter than them. Better than them. He started to grin.

He edited the appearance of his avatar as he felt a searing pain pass through his body. He felt his facial features rearranging, his jawline getting more rugged and defined. He could feel his adam’s apple grow in his throat. His eyes changing from a murky brown to a deep blue. His skin becoming nice and golden. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

He felt his body expand, muscles filling out in places that he didn’t even think possible. His legs, arms, chest, everything. He felt his shaft lengthen, filling out his pants as his ass and balls steadily grew.

He was changing, and as much as it hurt… it felt good too. As the pain subsided, Alex looked down, seeing the new shredded body he had, matching the avatar on the screen.

“Modification complete. Building Gaming Paradise.” The game spoke, as Alex, still admiring his body, felt the ground underneath him shake.

He braced himself as the room changed around him, going from standard to luxurious. He looked out the window when the shaking stopped.

He was no longer in his house, but rather on the second floor of another building.

“Admin assignment complete. Good luck.” The game said, shutting down.

Speechless, Alex ran downstairs, seeing a shop full of games.

“What… is this mine?” He said. He heard the same voice of the game, not from his mouth, but in his ears. It replied to him.

“Yes, Admin. You are my master now. Your goal is to bring enrichment to peoples lives under thr guise of a game store clerk. I will be your guide on this mission. Please run Gaming Paradise with care.” It said.

Alex smirked, gears turning in his head. “Oh boy, this is gonna be fun.” He said, as he flipped the sign in the door from closed to open.

Enjoy, everyone! So glad people are liking Alex. He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he? Stop by your local Gaming Paradise, and he’ll be sure to get you the game that’ll make your wildest dreams come true.

3TH93USA

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-09 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Encouraged and spurred on by @mrrharper

The building in front of Nathan was nothing more than a gray warehouse. It was absolutely massive, stretching to either end of the block. Nathan had no idea how far back it went, and with no windows he had no concept of floors either. Nathan considered that it may have been a poor idea to apply after all. The job had been looking for candidates with highly flexible hours and at least 10 years of experience. But Nathan, a desperately-underfunded college student in his final year, was badly in need of some quick cash. Holding his head high, he strolled towards the building's entrance.

Nathan had received a notice of a job opportunity through his email. At first, he had assumed it was some kind of spam, but after reading a bit more discovered it was indeed a legit company. Falcon Security, somewhere Nathan would have never placed himself to be applying for, had not only sent a rather dull email, but had a dull interior. Everything with this company was informative and straightforward, apparently details and color did not matter.

In the open, almost liminal space, Nathan felt as if a spotlight were on him. He had not dressed too flamboyantly, a floral-patterned dress shirt with blue slacks. But he definitely felt out of place in such a starkly-monotone place. Not only that, but he knew he did not fit in. Just under six foot, red hair with freckles, lanky enough to be considered paper-thin, Nathan had to remind himself this job was not based on looks. Falcon Security meant IT, and all he had to say was he looked younger than his actual age. In a few months, he could be gone, the company nothing more than a blip on his resume.

The orientation process was a lot easier than Nathan had expected. After navigating through a few empty halls, he eventually found himself in a large room with a plethora of other men. None of them matched each other, all presumably in desperate situations like Nathan. After a bit of waiting, the presentation began on the huge screen projected opposite of the door.

It was nothing Nathan had not seen before, a male AI voice narrating the company’s background and history. When they began listing some of the more famous companies Falcon Security had aided in the past, Nathan was surprised at how many he recognized. Many names were politically-affiliated, all right-leaning but nothing concerning Nathan. Business was business, and he would be working IT anyway, so he would not inherently be supporting anything he stood against. The one anti-LGBT organization startled him a bit, although he did not show it. As a gay man, he would simply avoid any tasks related to that client. Money had influenced his standards a lot, but not to the point of changing his morals.

Once the presentation had finished, all the men received a text to their personal devices for their next station. Nathan pulled out his phone and after looking around, began to follow the other men out of the room. They herded down the hallway, passing by the different facilities available in the building. A cafeteria, restrooms, a huge gym with a few people the size of bodybuilders already hard at work. Nathan was beginning to think this was some kind of complex. Once they ventured past the sleeping quarters with bunk beds galore, questions formed as to how hard the company would be working him.

Eventually, each of the men began diverging off into different directions, finding their corresponding rooms. Nathan tried to remain optimistic of the situation, following along the instructions from his phone. Third floor, hallway T, room H93. It took a little strength to open the door, Nathan assumed it had to have been made of some metal. He entered his room and heard the door click shut behind him. Room H93 was small, with nothing in it but a chair facing away from the exit. Once Nathan took a seat, the projector lit up.

“Welcome to Falcon Security,” the male AI voice announced. “The following education supplement is broken into three segments.”

Nathan peered around the room once more, finding it strange as to why he was separated from the other men for this portion of the orientation.

“Cerebral Manipulation activated, engaging Cleanse.”

Suddenly, Nathan was bombarded with a combination of blinding visuals and piercing audios. The projector was strobing violently, quickly flashing colors back and forth and scorching his eyes. The speakers out of Nathan's sight were blasting discordant notes, the high pitches scrambling his neurological pathways. He immediately shut his eyes and went to cover his ears, trying to tune it all out, but the damage had already been instituted. Overwhelmed by the stimuli, his brain carried out the emergency function, shutting itself off completely. Nathan’s hands dropped to his sides as his mouth hung open, staring lifelessly at the paralyzing screen before him.

“Cleanse complete, Cerebral Manipulation disengaged.”

Nathan made no movement as multiple ceiling tiles lifted up, revealing vents. He continued to stare ahead, no thought forming in his emptied mind.

“Physical Manipulation activated, engaging Vapor.”

Slowly, a hiss began to sound out from the vents opened within the ceiling. A reddish gas softly descended from the ceiling, filling up Nathan’s room in a minute. Before long the air had completely left the room, leaving Nathan’s mindless husk to breathe in the pure red fumes.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics,” the AI rattled off. Through the red haze, the projector booted up a loading screen with an array of fields.

HEIGHT - 75 Units

WEIGHT - 200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 12%

MUSCULATURE - 85%

FEET - 13 Units

PHALLUS - 9 Units

LIBIDO - 80%

HAIR (B) - 67%

HAIR (C) - 1B0C05

EYE (C) - 200C05

Although Nathan could not recognize it, these inputs were standardized by the company.

“Vapor engaged, activating Reactor.”

A relaxer began to escape, mixing thoroughly with the red fumes already present in the room. Carefully slinking down, it eventually slithered up Nathan’s nostrils and tickled his brain. Triggered, Nathan began taking larger, deeper breaths, thoroughly absorbing the red gas.

The effects of the vapor rapidly assimilated into Nathan’s system. His bones began to crack, his tendons and ligaments shifting and expanding. The edges of his tight outfit grew taut, threatening to rip before a laser quickly scanned the room, erasing every article of clothing. Now naked, Nathan’s body was free to grow in any direction it needed. And it did, stretching out across the chair as Nathan evolved. With each filtrating breath, Nathan pumped himself larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’3.

Nathan's muscles continued to bloat as the vapor was continually absorbed into his systems. His once lanky body was broadening: longer legs, longer torso, longer shoulders. His calves and upper arms swelled with power, thickening and plumping with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, now along with his new eight abdominals bolstering immense durability. Nathan’s backside curved outwards, better filling in his seat while his hardware up front enlarged into a thick 9 inches. Although not in a conscious state, Nathan separated his legs to accommodate for his new, massive bundle, his toes inching forward as his feet puffed out into a sturdy Size 13.

Nathan’s head arched back to allow the remainder of red gas to be consumed. His neck distended to accommodate for the emerging Adam’s apple, his vocal chords thickening to create a deeper tone. His jaw and cheekbones jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow. In a flash, Nathan’s roots and eyes darkened into a steep brown, tainting his hair as it pulled into a tight crew cut. The rest of his body adapted accordingly, his skin tone tanning slightly before being washed over with dark hair through the pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and throughout his arms and legs.

The last of the red fumes disappeared down Nathan’s nasal passages, coating his more masculine jaw with a well-maintained beard. The AI voice confirmed this completion.

“Vapor installed, engaging Auxiliary Supplements: 3TH93USA.”

AGE - 29 Units

When Nathan had applied, he had not met the company’s standards of employment. This forced Falcon Security to take the necessary action of moving him to meet the minimum experience requirement. A small tube appeared from one of the open vents directly above Nathan. With his head in position and mouth lazily ajar, the pipe distributed seven blue drops directly down Nathan’s throat. He did not have to swallow, the liquid absorbing on impact.

After a moment, the aging began to show. Nathan’s muscles stiffened slightly, toughening after more years of constant conditioning. His body odor grew denser, his voice gruffer. His libido remained the same, but now served a different purpose. It had matured into a machine for fertilization, built for a purpose rather than for pleasure. As the tiniest beginnings of frown lines formed, the process moved forward.

“Auxiliary Supplements complete, Cerebral Manipulation reactivated, downloading Cognition.”

The ceiling tiles lowered, the vents closing as the screen booted up with new diagnostics.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics.”

CEREBRAL CAPACITY - 20%

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 73 Units

SUBORDINATION - 95%

AGGRESSION - 90%

INTERPRETATION - 15%

INDEPENDENT ANALYSIS - 10%

Uploading SECURITY package…

Uploading SELF-MAINTENANCE package…

Installing CODE RED

“Download complete, engaging Cognition.”

Once again, the room was filled with the blaring visual and audio combination. Because Nathan’s brain had already been turned off, the repetition now triggered the opposite effect. Soon, Nathan’s mind reanimated, becoming coherent to his surroundings. His former self had been deleted, leaving an open canvas ready to become something completely new. Before Nathan could become cognizant and recolor his gray matter, the program instituted new effects.

Delicately, the strobing lights and screeching notes were honed into the background. New media quickly infiltrated the pattern. Flashes of words and phrases flashed the screen, branding Nathan’s mind. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men burst through Nathan’s retinas, establishing only one precedent. Mixed in were scattered opinion pieces to erect the bare minimum of personality features. Pictures of conservative leaders, Christian motifs, and clips of straight sex, enough to align with the company’s agenda.

“The company is always right,” “The clients are always right.” A male narrator had begun instructing different phrases into the room. His words crawled into the open crevice of Nathan’s shrunken brain, filling up the emptied space. “Every guard is completely loyal to the company,” “The company never makes mistakes.” Every instruction repeated over and over, accompanied by the images of Falcon Security and their work.

Nathan had been wrong to assume the Falcon Security had been an information technology firm. The company was actually a high-tech, military-grade safeguard who prided themselves with muscles promising complete protection, surveillance, and performative obedience. When they had discovered their investors in conservative businesses, they tailored their focus a bit more, pledging their guards would not only work for them, but vote for them too. Focus groups and trial operations provided them with the perfect formula for their clients.

In an instant, the program went into overdrive. The male AI returned, drilling “Ejaculate, Ejaculate, Ejaculate,” over and over. The stimulation exploded Nathan’s brain with ecstasy, his cock rising directly up and pulsing with excitement. The images on the screen ran twice as fast, the audio tracks looping quicker. With a manly grunt, Nathan howled as his swollen weapon blasted the remnants of his former will across the room. The laser from before returned, erasing the ejaculation and covering up the newly transformed guard in the company’s in house uniform: black sweats and a black cap

Blinking, 3TH93USA stood up as the door to the room opened behind him. He marched out of his room, the other new guards like fraternal clones of him doing likewise. They all filed down to the halls back to where they had come from. Some steered off into the cafeteria, others navigated to the sleeping quarters. 3TH93USA was one of the few who arrived in the gym, beginning his workout immediately as instructed. Security was his function, and if he was not doing that, then 3TH93USA was either eating, maintaining, or sleeping.

3TH93USA began his pull up routine as a few men in suits walked by, looking in on the gym.

“One needs a soldier, completely obedient and always following orders,” one of the businessmen stated. “Each of our men are customizable, programmable to any of your needs. Their only purpose is to be a security guard.”

They watched on as 3TH93USA continued his workout, no other objective in his mind.

Ball Practice

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-13 by time-to-transform ---

I saw you checking us out at our practices. Can’t blame you, I mean watching a bunch of muscular jocks getting sweaty and tackling one another is pretty fucking hot.

I decided to do you a favor and transform you into the football that we’ll use from now on. Now, instead of watching from a distance, you can be up close to all of the sexiness going on here. I bet you’ll love being gripped tightly by my strong, meaty hands. And just wait until we start sweating even more, the manly odor we produce from all this exercise absolutely reeks.

If you got turned off simply by looking at us practice, you’re going to be in a horny paradise from now on. Hope you enjoy spending the rest of your life being roughly handled and tightly held by a bunch of sweaty football jocks. You’re welcome.

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.

Swapsidite stone

--- Originally posted on 2019-10-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

ROMAN’S PERSPECTIVE

“Come on Roman, let’s get to work.”

I kicked off my small shoes and sulkingly walked into Mr. Jefferson’s house. I was still embarrassed that I had scratched his car during a neighborhood soccer game. All the other kids in the neighborhood were playing soccer with me, yet here I was, the only one who had to pay up. Just because I was the one who ran into his car and scraped my cleats across his door shouldn’t mean that I have to make it up to him all alone. I mean, how much can one twelve-year-old do anyway?

At least Mr. Jefferson was a pretty cool dude. He let me off fairly easy, saying that I just had to come over for one day and help around his house. He had moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, buying the entire rambler to himself. I’d always hear my parents talking about him, how they feared he was growing a little too old to stay a bachelor. I’d seen a few women come over to his house and stay the night, but no real signs of commitment. He seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe already in his 40s, the guy was definitely past his prime. Unkempt beard, flabby stomach, and poor choice in clothes, he wasn’t the best looking neighbor on the block. I didn’t know much about fashion, but everyone knows that the dress shirts, jeans, and flip-flops don’t go together. He even had a weird-looking necklace on, something I’d never seen before today.

No matter what I said about his body or clothing, my opinion was rather meaningless. Still waiting for puberty, my short, skinny, and hairless body wasn’t anything special. I wore a bulky football jersey and mesh shorts to make my appearance seem bigger, but I’m pretty sure it just made me look smaller.

Mr. Jefferson led me to his kitchen and showed me a stack of boxes.

“I need you to bring all of these downstairs,” he said in a deep voice, “I don’t have much for you to do today, so I hope you remember that, even though I don’t think you will.” He walked towards the living room and out of my view. What did he mean he didn’t think I’d remember this? Was he trying to make a backhanded comment or was he just being honest?

“It’s all super easy, Roman. I promise!” Mr. Jefferson shouted from the other room, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged it off and grabbed the first of the boxes. It was a little heavy, but I’d be able to manage. I walked around the house slowly, the weight causing my stride to be a little off. Once I had eventually found the staircase, I placed the box down and wiped my brow of sweat. It had become a little more than I had expected. Procrastinating the inevitable, I surveyed the area around me. I noticed Mr. Jefferson sitting in a yellow chair--he was in my view, but luckily I wasn’t in his. He held the necklace up to his face, examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. I swear I saw him whisper a few words into it and saw it glow lightly, but before I could focus any more on it, he began to shift in his seat. I quickly picked up the box and, forgetting its weight, marched down the stairs.

— —

I carefully placed the last box down next to the others and ran up the stairs, my mediocre-sized feet making little noise. I walked into the main area, and, after pushing the brown hairs away from my eyes, found Mr. Jackson still sitting in his chair, smugly reading something on his phone.

“I’m done, Mr. Jackson,” I exclaimed proudly, my soft baritone ringing in the room. He slowly got up from the chair and guided me over to my next project.

Mr. Jackson and I had been pretty close these last few years. Ever since that one day I had stupidly run into his car during a soccer game, I had often come over to help with his other chores. Although he was only in his mid-thirties, the single man still had a lot to do around the house. After a while, he began to pay me for my work, persuading me to come over every summer. He even offered me a raise this year, saying that I should get some extra money before college in a few months. I probably could’ve gotten a better paying job, but my personal connection with Mr. Jackson made it hard to turn down. Luckily, it turned out to work for the best.

Ducking under a short ledge, we walked into a small closet behind the main bathroom.

“Alright, Ronan,” Mr. Jackson began, pointing to rolls of paper towels, “I need you to bring these down into the laundry room. Once you’re done with those, come and find me again; I’ll be in the same place as usual.”

Being that both Mr. Jackson and I were the same height, he didn’t have to grab anything down for me. He walked off as I grabbed the first few rolls, being able to fit a decent amount in between my large palms and toned arms. Over the school year, I made sure to start the healthy habit of working out, hoping to get ahead of the freshman fifteen. I had never really gotten into sports through high school, but I made sure to keep my body through the school gym during my senior year. It took me a while to start working at it, but progress eventually began to show. After only a few months, my body had firmed up with the beginnings of abs and some perceptible biceps and triceps. It wasn’t much, but I was fairly proud of myself. It also made an impression on my boyfriend, which became an extra motivator for me.

I strolled out of the closet and walked back towards the staircase downwards. I saw Mr. Jackson sitting in his chair again, scratching his small beard as he read a small book. I itched my own stubble with my shoulder as I descended, remembering how I had forgotten to shave this morning.

— —

Once I dropped the last load into the laundry room, I guided myself up the stairs, ready for the next assignment.

“Next thing?” I shouted as I strolled into the room where the other man sat.

“Finished so quickly, Robbie?” He quipped, getting up from his chair. He knew I was going to fly through that job in minutes. I barely had to put out any effort; my military experience made it rather simple to carry everything down.

“Got anything harder for me, bro?” I said, itching my buzz cut. I had just returned after four years in the service, which I had come to realize were some of the best years of my life. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree, I decided to draft myself into the military and spend some time overseas. My parents and friends didn’t approve at first, but after a while they realized it was good for me--and by that I mean my physical appearance.

Coming home to see my parents shocked faces a few days ago was one of the funniest moments I had experienced. When they saw the lumbering, muscular man walk out of the airport, they didn’t expect to hear their names coming from his [my] mouth. The military had given me a rather strict routine, providing me with an impressive 6-pack, defined upper arms, and powerful quads.

After spending some time with my family, I decided to visit my old friend next door. We had gone through most of school together, with my neighbor only two years older than me. I hadn’t been able to spend his thirtieth birthday with him a few weeks ago, so I was making it up by helping him move into his new house. He had bought his house from his parents, now owning the very place he grew up in. Assisting my old friend reminded me of when we were younger and I scratched his parents’ car during a game of soccer. I can still vaguely remember all the chores I had to do that day to pay for the damage.

“Since you’re so good at this,” he snarked, “I think I’ll give you something a little more difficult to do.” We both walked to his front door and, after grabbing my average-sized shoes, made our way to the backyard. I had been over here plenty of times, the two of us spending hours here when we were little, but now it looked almost completely different. The old playground and slide were removed, now replaced with a disheveled patch of grass and a modern fire pit. Where once stood the garden was now a brand new shed, and as my neighbor opened it, I realized it was where he stored all of his seasonal gear.

“I’d love it if you could mow the lawn for me,” he began, “it’s never really been my thing.” He smirked arrogantly, knowing I’d do anything he said because I missed his birthday. I pulled out an old lawnmower and pushed it out of the shed, my old friend had already gone back into his house. I adjusted my jersey, which fit perfectly tight on my frame, and pulled at the engine. The motor revved up, purring obnoxiously as it began. Although I was very athletic, mowing was still such a bore. As my long legs glided across the yard, I reminded myself to never miss another one of his birthdays again.

— —

I brushed over the last part of the lawn and let go of the brake, causing the motor to stop. I brought a palm up to my sweaty forehead, pushing the black hair back back on top of my head, revealing my receding hairline. I still can’t believe I agreed to mowing for Jackson--the guy’s no older than 25 afterall. He had the body for it too: we had worked out together before, so I knew he was fairly toned.

Then again, I had no problem at all with the physical exercise. Ever since returning home from the military 12 years ago, I had made sure to keep my body in shape. My muscularity isn’t exactly what it used to be (age does that), but I still take a vast amount of pride in my work. I still have the torso, arms, and legs of a football player, but now with the firm maturity of adulthood. I also still have the libido of a football player; no one told me that your cock gets meatier as time passes.

After pushing the lawnmower back into the shed, I made my way to the front of the house. I opened the door, kicked off my large shoes, and made my way to the living room. There, sitting comfortably in his yellow chair, was Jackson, reading his phone once again, his shirt lying on the floor.

“I was hot,” he replied, seeing my confused face. His voice was smooth, deep and youthful.

“Alright,” I said before yanking off my shirt, revealing a shaved, muscular torso with a black treasure trail. Bulging arms and wet, hairy pits also became visible to the world.

“I’m hot too.” The smell of my sweat and odorous armpits began to flood the room.

“I think I’m done with you for today, Richie,” Jackson muttered before plugging his nose, “but I think you do need a shower.”

“What?” I replied sarcastically, my deep, gravelly voice shaking the room, “You don’t like the smell of this?” I brought my furry underarm up to his face and shoved him playfully. I’ve known him since he was born, so we’re almost as close as we can be. I was already in highschool when he was born, and, being the neighbor, I became his babysitter. As the years flew by, babysitter became friend, workout buddy, and brotherhood, so teasing him with my pungent body odor wasn’t anything new. I knew he didn’t like it because he was straight, but I loved it. Being a homosexual, and a top, made dominating very erotic for me, but Jackson had no idea of my true sexuality. That was why I had to hide my giant boner as he found his way out of my pit.

“Ha!” I guffawed, “Now your going to smell like my pit sweat all day long.”

Jackson glared at me furiously, my beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go take a shower before I kill you,” he said, pointing to the master bathroom.

“Oh, sure,” I retorted before walking off. He could never beat me: I was a man still in his prime. As I stripped myself of my clothes and stepped into the shower, I quietly stroked my dick. Once I got home, I’d have to furiously beat one out like many nights before, probably once again to the thought of Jackson.

— —

JAX’S PERSPECTIVE

I still can’t believe it worked!

With my life lately going to hell, this was my last, desperate choice. Nevertheless, it’s surprising that I even found the necklace in my basement; the people who had lived in the house before must have left it.

When I had found it a few days ago, there was a little note attached describing the name and purpose of the necklace. According to the description, the Swapsidite Stone, the strange chunk at the bottom of the necklace, would switch one of your traits with another person. The trade off however was that whatever you’d swap, the other person would receive double the original bargain. For example, if one person had decided to take a quarter of someone else’s intelligence, the first would receive the quarter bargained for, but the other would dumb down so much that it would seem like the first had taken half. As an added factor, only the person who had the stone one remember their own swap, the rest of reality would change accordingly. That was why I had to consider what I would take and give to someone else.

A few days after I had found the necklace, Roman scratched my car. It was only a coincidence, but I knew it was the perfect time to strike. It took me a while to figure out what I would trade between the two of us, but after a lot of thought I figured out what I desired the most: I wished to redo my past and find a woman to love. I regretted that most of my life I had remained a bachelor, and know was my time.

I decided to trade 20 years of my age to Roman, which meant that he would receive 40 years in total. I felt bad at first, but as I saw him change and reality adjust around us, I began to care less. I had gone from Mr. Jefferson, a 38-year-old loser, to Jax, an 18-year-old stud, in the course of one day, and the best part was that the changes were permanent. I was so excited that as soon as I saw the stone darken to its finish, I stripped down to my underwear and sat back in my chair. I now had the body of a high school jock: thick muscles, blonde haircut, pronounced pouch--it was perfect.

“Hey!” I heard a gruff voice shout from the bathroom, “Where did we put the towels?”

“Back counter!” I yelled back, my voice now a lighter baritone with a more innocent tone. As I sat in my chair, a large, older man walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Usually, the sight of a naked man would disgust me, but right now I was completely enthralled. In front of me stood a true adonis.

The man, who was now 52, had the body of an alpha male. Strong forearms, calves, and hips were brought together by incredibly large biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Not only that, but there were a powerful set of abs hiding beneath two massive pecs, adorned with large nipples. The man’s face showed lines of maturity along the forehead, which were easily visible thanks to his recently-gelled graying hair. The beginnings of a beard also framed his lantern jaw, its shape just as perfect as the ridges of his collarbone. The last thing I noticed was the military academy ring he wore on his left hand, which lay in front of his graying pubes. I assumed there was both a massive dick and large set of balls hiding right underneath.

“What are you looking at?” his husky voice rumbled.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I lied dumbly. Before I could react, he leaned over and snatched the necklace of my neck.

“And what have we got here?” he asked, looking at it oddly.

“Oh, just something I found in the basement,” I replied, giving him half the truth.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it on?” he requested, catching me off guard.

“Sure?” I responded cautiously. He placed the necklace around his neck and smiled smugly.

“This is the Swapsidite Stone, correct?” He already knew the answer, but before I could react he had already muttered something into the stone. The stone began to shine dimly.

“Richard, I can explain, if you’d just-”

“Jax, I know you did something to me. I have no idea what you traded, but at least I know that you did something.”

“But Richard, I-”

“It’s Sir to you.”

“But, Sir-” I froze. Why had I just listened to what he had told me?

“I’ll tell you what I swapped between us, because it won’t matter soon enough.” ~~Richard~~ Sir pulled up a seat from across the room and sat right across from me. He placed the towel aside and let his naked body hang free, his enormous cock standing tall.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since you entered high school. I’ve known you since you were born, I’ve raised you, I’ve made you who you are today, but now I’m going to make you into who I want you to be. You’ve never appreciated what I’ve done for you, so I’ll make it that way.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He was referring to the new reality, while I was still living the old, causing me to have no way to respond.

He took a deep breath before continuing, his tone becoming more serious, “You see, you stupidly left the description card in the bathroom, not even thinking about me finding it. Once I got out of the shower, I finally figured out why you were wearing that ugly necklace. Now it’s my turn to trade and I think you’ll like what it is.”

I tried to get up from the chair, to run away, but I was stuck. It was like I had no control.

“I’m taking half of your dominance. You know what that means right? I’ll become 150% the alpha male.” He leaned over closely, his hot breath on my cheek.

“And you’ll lose all free will. WIth this, I’ll be able to change anything about you that I want, no magic stones needed. Oh, and just to be safe,” he ripped the necklace off his neck and crushed the small stone between his hands, never to be recreated again.

“So I hope you remember that,” he smirked, leaning back, “even though I don’t think you will.”

— —

Something was poking at my hole, and I had now idea what. I slowly opened my eyes, finding a hairy forearm draped over my side. The smell of my dad’s body odor and cum poured from the sheets like a flood, almost as if they had been washed in them. Memories of the pounding dad gave me last night came into my head, causing my miniscule dick to harden. I remember my dad telling me that although it was almost as big as his, it was tiny. I knew he was right--he is always right.

“Morning, Jax,” I hear my dad groan as his dick pushes further inside of me. I moan as he begins to push in and out. This is how mornings usually go: waking up to the smell of old sex, discovering how intelligent and arousing my father is, and then him filling me with his cum. It was always a pleasing cycle.

About ten minutes later, after my insides were filled with his semun. I got up and went to go make breakfast, still in my birthday suit. It only took me minutes to prepare a protein shake and some eggs for my dad. It only took seconds for him to come clomping down the stairs with his abnormally large feet. He always had to specially order his shoes.

Before sitting down, my dad, who was also naked, brought a dirty cup to the tip of his penis and began to piss. A dark, yellow stream dripped in until it was full to the brim.

“Drink up, son,” my dad said as he handed me the cup, “it’s good for you.”

I greedily slurped the steaming liquid down my throat. It was going to be a long day of work ahead, so I had to eat and drink healthy. There were chores to do, dirty laundry to sniff, and fathers to please. I was excited to do it all.

Here's to 28!

--- Originally posted on 2019-06-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

Not only was it the final day of my senior year, it was my birthday, and my plan was nearly complete. After thorough research through numerous different libraries, online sites, and a few difficult equations, I was finally going to get everything I had dreamed of for the big 18!

It had all started in early March, a little while after the tennis team had begun their practices. The sun was shining, the snow was finally melting; spring was upon us. However, it was only about 50 °F, so when I walked by and saw that Julian Richardson, the varsity team captain, was wearing nothing but some skimpy running shorts, all I could do was bite my lip in frustration.

One of the top jocks in the highschool, Julian had everything anyone could have wanted; great looks, tons of money, extremely popular, etc. He looked much more like a senior in college than one in high school. Not only did he have the brawn, but the brains too. He was part of many different clubs outside of athletics, he was even the vice president of the Mathematics Leagues in our state. Now all of this definitely made me jealous, but the worst part about him was his pride. As stated millions of times by not only himself, but his sexual conquests too, he was 100% gay. He was extremely proud of it, so much in fact that he wore something to showcase it everyday. Today, it was a stupid wristband that I noticed as he adjusted his luminous blond hair. Growing up in a good-old, traditional American family, I knew that everything about Julian was against what my Christian beliefs had told me, and it was my job to try and stop it.

After seeing him, I began to rush home, eager to begin my research. Right before I got to my house, I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey, Jake!” My neighbor, Michael, emerged off his porch, “You look like you’re in a rush.” Michael was a man in his late forties, but he certainly didn’t look like it. He was blessed with decent genetics and regularly visited the gym so he was fairly defined. He had always lived in the house right next to mine as long as I could remember, yet he had always lived alone. He took trips out of town every now and then, and sometimes he had friends over who’d stay the night. I was closer with him when I was little, but as I ventured into adolescence we grew more apart. Something about his, lifestyle, seemed a little off to me.

“Yeah,” I said, a little flustered. I must have been going faster than I had thought. “I have a new… erm… game that I’m excited to play.” My conscience had always made it hard for me to lie.

“Oh, well, hope you enjoy it.” Michael seemed a little suspicious, but just shrugged it off and walked back to his porch. After he turned away, I rushed into my house and ran up to my room, excited to begin. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for it to load, I looked out my window. I had a nice view of Michael’s house, but beyond that I could see the entire town.

Once I had finally logged into my computer, I began my project. First, I had plans to try and find dirt on him before publicizing it, but after hours spent on looking through countless websites, I found nothing. Then, after the original failure, it occured to me what I had to do. If I wanted to fix him, it had to be me in charge - I can’t trust him to change his ways. My next plan began to develop right before my eyes.

Over the next week after seeing Julian at tennis practice, I researched multiple different options. Body swapping, transformation, disappearance. After some heavy searching, I finally landed on genetic displacement. In this process, I would have to create some weird liquid concoction with strange ingredients that I’d never heard of before, combine it with some form of DNA from the intended victim, and then drink it. Then, over the course of a few minutes, the DNA from the victim would rapidly multiple and displace the DNA of the drinker, causing a genetic shuffle that would eventually change the entire body of the drinker and make them look like an identical copy of the victim permanently. I would look like his identical twin, but I’d still have my mind, personality, and soul. The directions were simple, but I just had to make sure I got everything right because the side effects looked insane. Stuff about brainwashing, amnesia, personality disorders, and other terms I couldn’t even pronounce threw me off, but as long as the victim and drinker were less than 2 years apart in age, everything would be fine. Luckily for me, Julian and I were born on the same day, which was another reason why I hated him.

The next three months rolled by. A few purchases of various items with strange names, rigorous searching to find them, and plenty of studying had lead to the last day. Luckily, my immense intellect made everything easier. For some reason, the ingredients always came a day or two late of the planned delivery, but that’s just the black market I guess. I had lurked in my room for hours on end, with the sun slowly descending through my window as I worked away. I really should have shut the shades to block out the light, but I never bothered too. I finally had everything ready by the last day of school, and all I had to do to finish the final part of my plan was to find a fresh piece of Julian’s DNA.

The last day of school was fast. I didn’t really pay attention to my finals or others; I was just too excited to finally finish my project, and the fact that everyone was celebrating Julian’s birthday instead of mine made it all the more unbearable. Finally, the end of the day came and students rushed out the doors. I calmly stayed behind, lurking a safe distance behind the tennis team. They had a short practice today, so this would be my only chance to snag something of Julian’s. As I saw the players casually hit the balls between courts, I snuck my way into the men’s locker room. After a minute of looking around, I finally found Julian’s rainbow sports bag. I dug my hand in, a little disgusted to be groping around another man’s dirty clothes, but eventually I found something. In the bottom of his bag was an old, white sock, obviously worn out from wear. It was pretty big in my hand, and - disgustedly - I brought it up to my nose for a timid sniff. I reeled back, getting a putrid scent of male foot and sweat, it was definitely fresh. As much as I hated to think about it, this nasty sock had enough DNA seeped into it for my concoction. I tossed it in my bag and ran home, sprinting the entire way, ecstatic that all my work was about to pay off.

After running between my room and the kitchen, I was finally ready to finish my project. Neither of my parents would be home tonight, so I had the house to myself.The sock and other ingredients sat all on the counter, ready to be mixed together. All I had to do was blend all of the components together without the DNA, and then pour it into a pot and boil it. After that, I’d throw the DNA in and (after letting it cool) drink it down, holding my nose shut of course. Then I’d find somewhere to sit and get comfortable, because apparently your body would freeze up until the transformation was finished. It took me a while to combine all of the ingredients together, and once it was mixed together it looked like a slushie without syrup. I ran over to the stove, ready to turn it on, but was met with a large sticky note on the dial.

“Oven broken?” I angrily read out loud, “No! How is this possible?” I quickly thought to myself how I could boil the concoction. I had to do this today, otherwise the DNA would become old. Sadly, only one idea came to my mind, but it was the only one I could think of.

“Jake!” Michael exclaimed, opening his door, “How can I help you?”

“Hey, Michael,” I smiled courteously, “I have a favor to ask.”

Michael led me into his house as I described that I was making a present for my mother’s upcoming birthday, but my stove wasn’t working. He graciously offered his and said that I could come by whenever to use it until mine was fixed.

“I have to go get something from the backyard, but if you need me I’ll be right upstairs afterwards.” He smiled as he opened the backdoor and left. I quickly fired up the stove and place the small pot a burner, happy that I’d finally finish. As I the concoction began to bubble, I realized something was missing: the sock! I carefully took the pot off of the burner and ran back to my house. As I sprinted past, I saw Michael walking back in, smiling as I dashed past. I burst through the front door and flew into the kitchen, grabbing the sock before running back. As soon as I got back to Michael’s kitchen, I pushed the pot back onto the heated burner and threw in the sock right as it began to boil. I stirred the liquid until I no longer felt anything solid in the liquid. Then, I took a cup from the cupboard, threw in some ice, and poured the soup-looking drink into the cup. The drink cooled down instantly, almost filling the cup.

“Here’s to 18!” I held my nose shut, said a quick prayer, and drank it all down in one go.

Once the drink was gone, I let out a huge belch. I quickly cleaned up the mess I had made in Michael’s kitchen and got ready to leave. I had to be fast enough to get to my house so I could transform in private. Right as I was about to walk out the door however, my conscience got the better of me. It would only take me a few seconds to thank Michael and then I could ditch. I dropped my things and walked upstairs, going towards the only room that had a light on. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly peed myself. Sitting right on the edge of the master bed was Michael, taking a picture of himself in the mirror, only wearing a tight, blue athletic shirt and a snug pair of underwear.

“Oh, you must be ready,” Michael said, taking note of my presence, “Do you like what you see?”

All I could do was keep staring at Michael, his body the perfect male specimen. For a man just under fifty, somehow he had maintained the body of an adonis. For some reason, I couldn’t look away, all I could do was stare.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Michael slowly walked over to me. I knew something was wrong, but for some reason I couldn’t move. The transformation must have just begun! He slowly stripped off all of my clothes as I stood there. As he slowly worked off my clothes, I could smell his natural musk emanating from his body. Once he was done, he lifted me up and placed me in a chair. Once he was done, Michael sat in one across from me, manspreading to show who was in charge.

“So, I expect you’re quite confused right now,” he said calmly, smirking, “but that’s alright, I will explain everything while you transform.”

My eyes widened. How did he know my plans? Did I make it obvious?

“First, let’s start with the fact that you should keep your blinds shut from prying neighbors, like me.” He motioned towards his own, which were shut, “After a week or two, I got curious as to why you were always up so late, so concentrated on your computer. Your lying is pretty pathetic, so I knew something was up, so I began to dig.”

As he spoke, my legs began to stretch out. My body was slowly pushed up into the chair as my calves pushed themselves apart. Muscle began to crawl across my legs as my thighs and quads became thick and strong, letting small veins pop out. My butt also plumped up, muscle filling in my rear and giving me two firm globes in the back. As my legs and butt finished strengthening, hair erupted all across the surface. It started out fairly blond, but then darkened to a more mature brown. I thought Julian had all blond hair, but I’ve only ever seen him from a distance so it must have just looked lighter.

“Next, I began to do a little investigation into what you might be doing. When the first package was being delivered, I caught the mailman and told him there had been a mistake and that the packages where supposed to go to me. After some heavy convincing, he finally obliged and all the packages went to my house before I dropped them off at yours.”

My chest began to bulge out, expanding tremendously. It too added to my height as abs began to pop into existence, creating a hard, cobblestone path from my belly button to my new pecs. As my pecs created their own shelf on top of my stomach, I felt my nipples perk up as they became slightly larger and more sensitive. Blond hair began to spread out over my torso, before it to darkened to the same brown as my legs. I had never seen Julian with this much hair, but he usually shaved. Plus, he barely every wore a shirt, so that was probably why his chest hair was blond - it must’ve been brown in the winter.

“After carefully opening the few boxes, I had quickly figured out what you were trying to do. Those items were very rare, so when you put them together in a search bar it only comes up with a few options. Once I figured out your plan, I had to figure out who your target was, and let me tell you that was difficult to find.”

As he continued, my arms began to fill out. Strong biceps began to appear as my triceps filled themselves in with muscle. Veins appeared on my forearms as my hands began to grow, becoming firmer and more calloused. Brown hairs also began to crawl along my arms as my armpits began to fill up, getting bushier by the second. I didn’t remember Julian having such hairy armpits, or the awful smell that was now emitting from them, but he must’ve always worn heavy deodorant.

“Once I figured out that you were targeting Julian Richardson, that’s when I decided to get involved. Originally, I was just curious to see what you were doing, but after that I knew I had to stop you. I began to read over the directions and ingredients again and I realized the only way I could tamper it was if I dealt with the DNA.”

My neck began to bulge as an enlarged Adam’s apple began to appear. I coughed a bit, causing my voice to adjust down a few registers. My voice began to also mature, sounding a little older. Although Julian looked much older, he still sounded like a teen with a life ahead of him, so this was strange to me.

“It took me a bit to figure out when you wanted to execute the plan, so when the last ingredient came in the mail a few days ago, I knew I could set you up for the last day of school. Not only would you be extremely excited with your plan about to be finished, but the natural adrenaline from the last day of your high school career would definitely kick in, having you lose focus.”

My head slowly lengthened out, becoming looking more ovular then circular. My jaw became more defined as my teeth straightened out. My nose grew straighter and smaller as a light stubble appeared, giving me a naturally wise look. I felt my hair shorten up and style itself. If I could have looked in a mirror, I could’ve seen my hair and eyes turn brown.

“So, this morning I went over and put a little note on your stove to say it was broken, and with you in your frantic state you never even tried to turn it on. I knew your only option to save your plan would be to ask me, and I kindly obliged. You only brought the pot with you, not even thinking about the DNA, so as soon as I walked outside, I ran over to your house - which you kindly left open - and looked for it. It took me a bit to figure out what I was looking for, but as soon as I saw the sock on the counter I knew what I had to do. I quickly pulled off my shoe, placed my sock in the exact same position as Julian’s, and then put my shoe on and walked out of the house. When you ran past me, I knew you’d be in for a surprise in a few minutes. With all the teenage adrenaline and excitement, you didn’t even notice that the sock was slightly yellower, or the different brand. The best part is, my feet are Size 16, so you didn’t even see that the sock was much larger than Julian’s Size 12.”

Michael held up Julian’s sock in front of my face, just close enough so I could smell it. He smirked as he saw my feet begin to lengthen out along the floor. My toes began to splay out further as my feet became meatier. Thick veins began to adorn the tops of my feet as dark hairs began to appear as well. Michael placed his foot on top of mine, and although I couldn’t move, I could see that looked almost identical, just with mine being younger.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said, before getting up and pulling his chair closer to mine. Once he sat down again, he carefully place his feet on either side of my sack, massaging it. I quickly grew hard.

“I knew that’d you’d have to come up here and thank me, you Christians and your conscience, so I quickly placed myself in a position that would stall you before your transformation begin. And here we are now, where it looks like we are near the end.”

Michael motioned to my pouch, which had expanded almost 4 inches as I had listened to him. I used to be average, but now I must have had almost ten inches of hard, veiny meat. Not only that, but a huge, wiry bush of brown hairs had replaced my previous non-existent ones. My balls were churning, the massage from the large feet making them much bigger and heavier. They looked almost identical to the outline from Michael’s underwear.

“So, now we’re here, I replaced Julian’s sock with mine, but there’s still one part I have mentioned yet. Remember the side effects and rules of this concoction? I bet you do.”

He smirked as my eyes quickly began to shake with panic.

“Now I am much farther than two years from you, so I did some further research into the side effects and it said that the drinker will end up somewhere in the middle, depending on the amount of DNA. The socks were dirty and rank, but it looks like it was not enough to put you into your thirties, but I’d say you’d look like me in my late twenties, so we’ll say your 28, 20 years apart from me so no one raises any questions. That's a good distance for me to be your father.”

I immediately got confused, and it wasn’t only from what he had just said. My mind had begun to feel cloudy ever since he began to massage my pouch. Maybe it was one of the side effects of the conco.... liquid.

“You see, ever since you started distancing yourself from me when you were little, I knew you were straying down the wrong path. You found out why I lived all alone in this house, and yet you would never admit it to yourself. You would never allow yourself to think I was possibly gay, that those trips I would take out of town weren’t work related, or those friends I had over were more than just friends. Well, now I’m going to raise you right. As soon as you release, you’ll black out from all the pent up pressure from me edging you and your transformation will be complete. Once your out, I’ll not only make sure you don’t remember any of this, but I’ll create a whole new life for you. The best part is, I barely have to do any work! With all the side effects of memory loss, personality confusion, and so much more, I can make you into whatever I want you to be. You won’t only be my son, but you’ll be my kinky, dumb lover.”

My pouch was throbbing, begging for release as Michael massaged them with his feet.

“Now on the count of three, you will release and pass out. Are you ready, Jake?”

I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t. My eyes must’ve shown so much fear, for Michael’s smirk suddenly got wider.

“Three.”

My mind clouded over as I felt my sack tighten.

“Two.”

My body tensed up, I could feel it coming.

“One.”

Michael stopped massaging and gripped my pouch with his feet. I released and then immediately blacked out.

——

I woke up to the sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. My head hurt, like I had just been studying too hard or something. I slowly pushed myself up and noticed a phone laying next to me. I clicked the home button and noticed there was a track playing. All it said was “Final Track.” I wondered what it was playing through, and then I realized I had the earbuds on. There were words and phrases playing on loop. I tried to concentrate, which was pretty hard, but eventually I could make out the words. It was some sort of conversation between jocks.

“Bro, let’s go suck a dick!”

“Yeah, being gay is sick, bruh!”

“And your dad, what a stud, broski, he’s so hot.

“I’d suck his dick any day.”

“He’s so smart too, lucky that you don’t have to do any of the thinking, bro!”

“Yeah, Broseph, you’re so dumb you have a below-average IQ.”

“What’s IQ, bro?”

And then the track ended with the jocks all guffawing at the joke. I chuckled, my deep voice mimicking their laugh. For some reason, I found it funny.

I rolled out of the bed, pushing the blue comforter back. I clomped my huge feet down the stairs towards the kitchen, my hard dick swaying with each step. I walked into the kitchen, where I saw my naked dad cooking food on the stove. His bubble butt swayed as I took a seat at the table, my own naked skin cold against the metal chair. I watched my dad cook, getting harder while I watched his muscled body sway. He slowly turned away from the stove, his dick just above the frying pan. He pissed right into the pan, making sure the bacon was extra greasy.

“Happy Birthday, Jordan,” Dad said as he dropped a plate full of bacon right in front of me, “How was your night?”

“Great!” I said, shoving the bacon eagerly down my throat. He came up behind me and patted my shoulders, his hard cock pushing against my back.

“What did you dream about?” He said, slowly beginning to grind against me.

“Well,” I began, “first it with me with my bro, Brad, and we were heading to town. Then, in came this cute twink who I destroyed, and then it ended with me smelling your shoes while jacking off.”

“A perfect ending to that dream it sounds like,” he said, slowly kissing my neck as he continued to grind. My back became slick with precum.

“Totally,” I shoved the rest of my bacon in my mouth and put my dishes in the sink.

“Where you going?” Dad asked, smacking my butt as I ran up the stairs.

“Got a soccer game in twenty minutes with the bros, it’s for my birthday!” I ran into my dad’s bedroom and looked through the dirty clothes hamper. I grabbed a sweaty gray tee, two black socks, and a pair of sweat shorts that smelled like piss and cum. I smiled, happy with my choice, not even bothering with underwear. Commando always accentuated my pouch better anyway. I ran down the stairs and grabbed my large vans. As a slipped my feet in, they were greeted with puddles of my dad’s piss. Back ten years ago, when I was still highschool, my dad would do this before every game for good luck. He knew I loved it so much that he kept the tradition even after I had dropped out. There was no way I was going to finish, all I’m good for is playing games with the bros and helping my dad whenever he needs it.

“Thanks, Dad.” I said, kissing him before I left.

“Of course, Jordan,” he replied, returning the kiss and grabbing my bulge, “and don’t forget this.” He handed me a fanny pack with the lunch he made me. I quickly looked inside and was happy to see one of his famous homemade protein shakes. He always made sure to make it with natural protein.

“Let me get a picture of you for your birthday.”

“Dad, I’m gonna be late.”

“Listen or I’ll spank you.” It wasn’t really a threat, he knew I’d like it, but I got the message. I crouched in front of our houseplants, showing off my junk.

“Sexier!” My dad said, I shuffled a little more and tried to look smug. He smiled as he took the picture.

“Here’s to 28!”