Gay Male Tf Morphs

This is me.

I'd like to think I'm pretty good looking. I hit the gym regularly, I take care of myself, and I'm very lucky to be in a great relationship with a loving boyfriend.

It can be a little tricky in the bedroom since we both prefer to bottom, and his sex drive is a lot higher than mine, but other than that, life's good! Or so I thought.

Turns out, my boyfriend has a massive daddy kink.

I kinda suspected it a while given his dating history; I mean, I'm the youngest guy he's ever dated, and I'm 31. Well, *was* the youngest guy he's ever dated is a little more appropriate.

It also turns out that he's got some witchcraft in his bloodline. Nothing too crazy... except for specific times of the year, where the fabric of reality is thinnest. Which happened to fall on Valentine's Day.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up in a body 2 decades older than what I was used to.

I called him in a panic, and he guiltily confessed that it was all his fault. It was supposed to be a one day thing, and I shouldn't have remembered any of it. Except something had gone haywire - he managed to change reality to where I was now a silver fox, but he ran out of juice before he could set a time limit, or make my mind match this new body... and this new body's urges.

See, he didn't just conjure up a reality where I was a daddy. He conjured up a reality where I was a kinky, constantly horny, dom top of a daddy who can't stop thinking about putting his boy on all fours.

My boy's loving every moment of it. At first, I tried to get him to turn us back, but... shit, I've started loving it too.

Feel intimidated by your macho boyfriend? These pink suds can solve your problem.

This patent-pending concentrated formula washes away excess hair, fat, muscle, and masculinity. Go from a hairy stud to a lithe boy toy.

Why not? He thought, heart pounding. No one would know it was him. He stepped into the adjacent stall, locked the door, and fumbled with his belt. His dick sprang free, a modest five inches but thick as he gripped the base. He pressed the tip against the rough edge of the hole, then slid it through, the cool air on the other side making him shiver. 

Seconds stretched into a tense minute. Just as doubt crept in, a warm breath ghosted over his exposed shaft. Then, wet lips enveloped the head, sucking gently at first, tongue swirling around the head. Mark gasped, bracing his hands against the stall wall. The mouth on the other side took him deeper, cheeks hollowing as it bobbed along his length. Saliva dripped down his balls, and he felt them tighten.

As the suction intensified, something strange happened. A heat bloomed in his chest, spreading through his veins. Mark glanced down at his arms and saw veins bulging and muscles swelling beneath his skin. His biceps rounded out, pushing against the sleeves of his shirt until the fabric strained. His pecs thickened, nipples hardening as they pressed forward, ripping a seam in his T-shirt. The growth accelerated with every pull of that eager mouth, his abs carving into sharp ridges, thighs bulging until his jeans creaked at the seams. Mark flexed involuntarily, feeling the raw strength surging through him. It was the best sensation ever, better than any workout high, intertwined with the relentless blowjob pulling him toward the edge. The anonymous sucker worked him harder now, throat relaxing to take him balls deep. Mark's new delts rippled as he gripped the wall tighter, his cock throbbing in that hot, velvety mouth.

"God, don't stop," he panted, watching in the dim light as his forearms corded with muscle, hands clenching into fists of steel.

His balls drew up, and with a guttural roar, he came. The sucker gulped the ropes of thick cum flooding the mouth greedily, milking him dry with firm strokes of tongue and lips.

Panting, Mark pulled back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. He leaned against the wall, catching his breath, a stupid grin on his face. That was incredible. But as he looked down, his heart skipped. His dick had shriveled to a pathetic two inch nub, soft and wrinkled, barely peeking from his pubic hair.

"What the hell?" Mark poked at it.

Teddy and Nate had been one of the sexiest couples in town. They went out clubbing most weekends and brought home a third… or a fourth, depending on the mood. Their hobbies included drag brunch with the rest of the muscle gays, spending time in the gym, and traveling to Puerto Vallarta so they could show off their abs.

Of course that was before they made fun of that nerd they saw on the street. Little did they know, he was a well-experienced wizard with a penchant for revenge.

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-06 by dumb-and-jocked.---

Round of applause to @mrrharper

I dumped my uniform and bag into the locker, my partner John doing likewise beside me. After a graveyard shift, the two of us had decided to hit the gym bright and early in the morning before sleeping through our day off. John and I had been partners since we had first joined the police force. As officers, we had done a lot together; rode together, drank together, laughed together. One time we were even in a foursome together with two chicks we had picked up at a bar.

Now in our early thirties though, we had begun to take life a little more seriously. Start choosing wisely, acting responsibly. Working out had been my idea, and after six months it had already shown some results. Both of us were average height and had gained some pudge over the years, but now we both had notable definition. I could not help but flex a little in the mirror, impressed by the beginnings of my triceps.

“Looking fire, broski!”

My eyes shifted over to one of the three football jocks who sauntered into the locker room. I was immediately annoyed by the trio of obnoxious meatheads, and I could tell John was as well.

“Have you been coming here for long?” the first asked. “We haven’t seen you around.”

“We come when we can,” I replied. “Working for the law gives us busy schedules.”

“Woah…so are you guys like, officers or something?” the second guffawed.

“Officers, yeah.” John was irked.

“Huhuhuh…cool bruh!” the third jock inserted. “You two should totally join us!”

Before we could respond, the first jock piped back in, “Yeah dudes! We could have a great sesh between the five of us. Brock here is stellar at arms, and Duke is the best at working those legs and glutes.”

“Jalen’s a pro with chest,” the second jock, Brock, finished. “And you two officer bros, what are you good at?”

I grunted, “Knowing how to refuse an offer.”

It took Brock and Duke, the third jock, a second to process what I had implied, their mental capacities obviously slower than the average male. Jalen was a little faster however, putting on a dumb smile. 

“Your loss bros, but totally understandable,” he shrugged. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re on the football team at the local college, so let us know if you need any workout tips or exercises.”

I barely nodded my head, offering a blunt, “Ok, thanks.” John and I then made our way past the bulky jocks, the three of them each larger than either of us. I took a breath as soon as we exited their collective earshot.

“Three cocky dicks,” I snorted. “No better way to start the morning.”

John mockingly agreed. Our workout was brutal, our bodies already tired due to our unusual sleep schedule. This, along with the occasional stare from one of the jocks, only encouraged us to work harder. Nothing was spared from our exercises, we utilized machines that hit multiple areas at once. Arms and chest, legs and back, abs and quads. At the end, we hit the treadmills for a thirty minute run, sneering back at the trio while they stood in front of one of the many mirrors and flexed their pumped arms, taking pictures for social media.

Eventually, we were back in the locker room cleaning up, both expecting the jocks to ambush us again. Fortunately, the lumbering footballers never arrived. John had joked they were probably still drooling over their own muscles in the mirror, and I had replied better they were drooling on themselves then us. I did not want their narcissistic, dim-witted reek all over me, and neither did my partner. We both opted to skip showers; we could take them back at our respective apartments before crashing into our own, cool beds.

As we left the locker rooms and headed towards the exit, we were immediately swarmed by our unwanted acquaintances. 

“You know, bros,” Jalen swung a beefy, sweaty arm around both of us. Brock paced behind me, and Duke followed suit with John. “We never caught your names? We’d like to thank you for your service, officers, whatever it is you do."

His tone was a little menacing, but I knew he would not try to pull something in broad daylight. “Darren,” I responded. “and John.”

Jalen grinned, moving his arms to pat the back of our necks. I felt a little sting at his touch, almost like an electric shock.

“Now c’mon bros, how about you come join us at the frat house where we can properly use your services.”

John frowned, and I retorted with, “I think you boys have had your fun.”

Brock chuckled, “Fun’s not even started broski.”

Duke’s response was even deeper and dumber, “Huhuhuh...dudes aren’t even ready.”

We had finally made it outside, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. I noticed our squad cars parked up front, we would be out of this mess in just a moment.

“Alright, this is our stop,” I exclaimed, making sure the three got my message. Suddenly, a piercing jolt was sent across my spine, traveling all the way from my brain to my toes.

“Our stop is actually over there, officers.” Jalen pointed to the two trucks past their cruisers. “Darren, you can come with me and Brock, Duke here is gonna take John.”

Robotically, my body followed Jalen’s command, tracing behind the first two jocks to their obnoxiously big vehicle. Although I could not turn my head, I could tell John’s body was following the orders as well.

“Disengage Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, sleep.”

— —

“Engage 25% Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, wake.”

My eyes fluttered open. I was standing in an empty room, not rigid but not slouching either. To my right, I could sense my partner’s presence, familiar with John’s aura. We were still in our dirty gym gear, although our body odor was nothing compared to the three jocks standing proudly before us. Through the windows behind them, I assumed it to still be some time in the morning, but that was the only piece of the situation that I could try to fathom.

“Bet you’ve never had a mind control chip implanted, have you, officers?”

I tried to respond with something snarky, but my mouth wouldn’t let me.

“We were just trying to be friendly, help some bros out, but you two insulted our kindness.” Jalen stepped a little closer, even from a distance I could feel his large, masculine presence. “Maybe next time you won’t mess with the son of a government-funded millionaire.”

Jalen pointed his fingers at his two goons. Brock and Duke each stepped forward, crossing the distance between them and John and I. They removed our shirts, and although I could see or move my feet, I realized my shoes had already been taken too.

“My dad gifted me some leftover mind-control chips he had built for the military, said I could use them if I ever needed them. Something along the lines of "accessing the nervous system" and "reprogramming capabilities". Didn't matter to me bros, it was all nerd-speak. I just needed the commands.”

If I could have, I would have gulped. Jalen stepped closer as the other jocks discarded our clothes.

“MC 1001, 50% Operation Mode.”

Suddenly, the feeling was restored throughout my body. I did not bother with attempting an escape, recognizing my body was still glued to the floor. When I turned to my partner, I realized John had not been released.

“What’s the plan, Jalen?” I spat.

“You were so rude to us back at our gym when you are employed to be of service” Jalen smirked. "The bros and I thought we should remind you of your duty, and what better way then by dispatching you as our new security guards who obey our every wish and command?”

“So what, you’re going to 'reprogram' us?”

“How about you see for yourself?” Jalen then turned to John. “MC 1002, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”

“MC 1002, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." It may have been John’s mouth that had opened, but I knew it was not him who was speaking.

“Brock,” Jalen invited. “How about you take the first swing?”

Brock laughed and scratched at his crotch, “Get him jacked bro.”

Jalen turned to Duke, “Anything specific you’d like to add?”

To my surprise, Duke did have something to add–a lot to add: “Make them former rugby players bro, cause rugby is for idiots and rugby players should serve football jocks, the real alphas.”

Jalen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised too. “Works for me. MC 1002, enter in keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ to the personality frame and set both at 88. Raise ‘Muscle’ by 40 base points and remove any post-secondary education from the mainframe.”

Watching the football neanderthal list off a series of programming commands put our situation into a new perspective. My eyes grew with fear as the changes installed into John’s body. It was like watching a horrible balloon inflation, his body contorting as it expanded. John’s once meager chest bloated into two massive pecs supported by two trunks of legs. His arms cartoonishly bulged until they were practically circular, his pits filling with hair as a tattoo wrapped itself around his right bicep. His face thickened too, adopting a square shape along with a wider nose and thicker stubble.

“Keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ successfully installed.” John’s voice was now deeper, gruffer. “‘Muscle’ upgraded, post-secondary education deleted.”

Jalen nodded, “MC 1002, add 10 base points to his age as well.”

“Adding 10 base points to ‘Age’.” To my shock, I helplessly observed my partner grow older beside me. The skin around his body tightened, pulling in to reveal the more delicate details of his veins and tendons. Wrinkles began to develop across his body along with other age marks. It was painful to watch his hairline slowly pull back, his scalp thinning out into a well-maintained crew cut.

“Here’s the fun part,” Jalen mocked, noting my face of terror. "Lower cognitive abilities by 20 base points and independent identity by 30 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe and boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential."

Although there were no visible alterations, I could have sworn the light went out behind my partner’s eyes. “All actions executed, please confirm modifications to MC 1002.”

Jalen smirked, making direct eye contact with me. “Confirm MC 1002, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”

To my delight, I watched as John’s body reanimated completely, indicating he now had full control over his body. But any hope I had was immediately crushed as soon as he stood at command, dumbly  grinning with his arms crossed over his chest.

“How can I be of service, sir?” John asked Jalen.

“Go do a full sweep of the yard of something, bro.” Jalen tossed John a pair of sunglasses, not even bothering to hand him any other clothes. Apparently his now too-tight joggers were enough. “Oh, and by the way, you go by Hammer now.”

“Hammer…” John processed. “Yes sir, thank you sir.”

I watched as my former partner stomped out of the room, out of our reality.

“Why ‘Hammer’, bro?” Brock piped in from behind me.

“‘Cause he’ll be laying down the law of the land.” Jalen then shifted back to me. “Our other friend here will be ‘Brute’.”

I heard two empty-headed laughs from the two empty-headed jocks behind me.

“He’ll be nothing more than a wall of meat,” Jalen taunted. Before I could insult him back, he instantly shut me up. “MC 1001, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”

“MC 1001, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." My mouth was out of my control. I tried to fight back, reanimate myself by any means possible.

“Alright Duke, it’s your turn.”

“Same thing as last time, bruh.”

Disappointed, Jalen shifted back to Brock, “Got something else?”

I prayed Brock would not say anything too damaging “Make him huge dude,” he requested, putting me at ease before following up with: “And make him like a butler too.”

Jalen laughed, and if I could have I would have cried.

“Oh MC 1001,” Jalen merrily instructed. “Copy MC 1002’s personality frame and mainframe, and enhance body and clothes proportions to 1.5. ”

“Modifications downloading,” I stated, a sudden sinking emerging in my stomach. In moments, I sprung upwards towards the ceiling, my height soaring above the jocks to an astonishing six and a half feet. Muscles exploded out of my body, bloating me thick with bulk. My arms were plump and my hands meaty. Two juicy pecs larger than my head were now carried by my absolute barrel of a chest, stretched out and taut. My legs were colossal, so dense that I would permanently be forced to take wide, swaggering steps. Even my neck thickened, supporting my newly masculinized skull.

“Copy and paste procedure successful.” My voice was husky, low, deep and booming. “Body and clothes proportions at 1.5.”

“Look at his socks, bro,” I heard Brock snigger behind me. “Whattya think those stompers are?”

“Huhuhuh…I don’t know dude…maybe Size 15?”

“Looks like I missed something,” Jalen appeared disappointed. “MC 1001, reduce reproductive size to 3.”

“Redacting 4 base points from ‘Reproduction’.” I screamed, pleading for this to stop. But no words exited my mouth. Instead, I remained painfully silent as I felt my cock and balls shrivel down within my shorts. 

“Helps with the obedience factor” Jalen stated. “Now, let's lower cognitive abilities by 40 base points and independent identity to 15 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe, boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential, and add in keywords ‘Respect’, ‘Humility’, and ‘Subservience’."

I would not give up, I would not cave in. “Please confirm modifications to MC 1002?”

Jalen was finished with his game. “Confirm modifications, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”

After a moment, I blinked. My head felt fuzzy, empty, as if some great weight of responsibility had been removed. I dumbly chuckled to myself.

"Feeling good there, bro?” Jalen smiled. “Excited to serve us jocks?"

"Uhhhh, yeah bruh…be of service."

"Well said, Brute."

"Brute?" I smiled lazily. “What can I uh…do bro?”

"First, let’s get you in uniform.” Jalen signaled to Duke, who then tossed a black cap to me. I secured it backwards onto my head proudly.

“Now, clean the frat house from top to bottom. I’m talking dirty laundry in the machine, trash taken out, floors scrubbed–the whole deal. I want this place looking slick before the party starts tonight. Once you’re done with that, you can go patrol the lawn for any feds. Got all that?”

It took a while for me to process everything, but eventually the dumb grin came back to my face.

“Yeah bruh…whatever you need.”

💪🌲 „Von der Hantelbank in den Wald – Holzfäller-Vibes mit Extra-Testosteron.“

Vom Gym in die Dusche – ein Spritzer „Lumberjack Refresh“ … Sekunden später wuchern Bart und Brust, der Bauch wird zugewuchert, die Luft voll maskuliner Energie. Ein Körper im Rausch der Verwandlung.

💪🌲 “From the gym to the woods – lumberjack vibes with extra testosterone.”

Andrew had always known he was the man other men wanted to be, or be with.

He earned it — hours at the gym, a strict grooming routine, an expensive tan, plenty of intoxicating body hair that drew stares, and that cocky swagger that made heads turn the second he entered a room. But above all, he was blessed... endowed.

He should’ve known better than to break up with Owen like that.

Owen had worshipped him—Tyler, the hot, cocky gym rat with the beard, the thick chest, the sweaty pits, and the aggressive fuck-you energy that turned heads. Tyler thought he could just dump Owen, call him “clingy,” and move on.

But Owen had whispered something strange that night as he left. Something Tyler barely remembered. Something like:

“Every time you hook up, you’ll lose a little more of what makes you… you.”

Tyler didn’t think much of it. Until hookup number one.

Throw two alpha males into the same gym, and they’ll either become best friends or enemies.

Maybe if Derek wasn’t such an asshole, we’d have been best bros. But one time I was just finishing up my entire workout and I told him he couldn’t switch in, and he got all pissed about it. It was my last two sets, and then I had to run, he didn’t have to act like such a little bitch about it.

But now every time we’re in the gym at the same time, he’s gotta pull some kind of shit. He even has a couple admirers that do his fucking bidding- I saw some nerdy type trying to steal something from my gym bag, and when caught in the act, he just ran behind Derek like some kind of cowering puppy. Pathetic.

Not that I don’t have a couple of non-muscle types on my side. I’d been helping this kinda guy Shawn for a month by giving him some pointers, and he’d seen some small gains, and now he practically worships me. And honestly, I was proud of him- it’s the incentive to keep going to the gym and work- whatever genetics gave you- that mattered to me. Sure, he’d never weigh more than a buck fifty, but he wasn’t some asshole like Derek.

It was after Derek “tripped” one day and spilled my protein shake that I just got super pissed and ranted about him to Shawn.

“I can’t stand that asshole!” I growled, glowering from across the gym. “He thinks the whole fucking world revolves around him.”

Shawn tried to calm me down.

“Listen, Mark,” he said, helping me clean up my shake. “You’re a good guy, and you’ve been super nice to me. Maybe I could do something to help you out with Derek…”

“Like what?” I asked.

Shawn blushed.

“Well, uh… I’m kind of a hypnotist, and…” he cleared his throat. “I could maybe make this audio file that makes him listen to you…. follow your orders…”

“Are you for real?” I said. “That shit actually work?”

Shawn nodded and then continued.

“I could pretend to ask him for lifting help, act like we had a falling out, and then tell him that I had this great file that would help him out with his workouts….”

Holy shit. That sounded amazing.

“Shawn,” I said, clapping him on the back. “You’re fucking awesome, bro!”

And the rest of the week at the gym, it all went to plan. Shawn started following Derek around, praising his muscles and asking for help. Derek seemed only too happy to steal away an admirer of mine, and actually started parading Shawn in front of me, trying to piss me off.

But then I’d see him post workout, earbuds in, listening to something. Shawn saw me taking note and winked.

My phone buzzed. A text from Shawn.

“His trigger phrase is Muscle Slave,” it read.

I grinned. I couldn’t wait for just the right moment.

It came the next week. In the locker room, I saw Derek’s scrawny hero-worshipper kneeled over my gym bag, mumbling something. Derek probably sent him over to throw it in one of the showers or some juvenile prank like that.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you little twerp?” I bellowed, and the little pipsqueak jumped into the air and took off. I looked in my bag. Nothing missing. I pulled out my muscle tank and a clean jock from the bag and threw them on with some shorts. This shit was gonna end today.

I made my way across the locker room to Derek, who had just finished working out.

“Your little dork was trying to get into my stuff again,” I growled.

Derek looked up from the bench he sat on.

“Christ, you’re an asshole,” he sneered. “Just ‘cause you’ve got some muscle, you think you’re in charge. Take that away and you’d be a nobody.”

“And you think everyone should just bend over at your every word. Can’t imagine a world that doesn’t revolve around you,” I spat back.

Strangely, he grinned.

“I can’t help it if little guys love me,” he flexed in his tight black undershirt. “If you were one, I bet you’d be all over this too. Or should I say, when you are one…”

I froze. What the fuck was this asshole talking about?

“I can’t believe it,” he continued. “That ‘little dork’ you were talking about actually did it.”

“Did what?” I cleared my throat. Something felt weird. I glared down at Derek. My hand went to my throat. “What the…?”

Derek’s eyes blazed as he actually started to laugh.

“Shit, you haven’t noticed? You’ve gotta be 30 pounds lighter by now!”

I looked down. My previously tight muscle tank was hanging off of me. My pecs! Gone! My biceps- gone! All of my hard earned gains at the gym were melting away!

I stared in horror at Derek. Fuck, was I getting shorter? He was sitting- I should be towering over him.

“That ‘little dork’ friend of mine does some magic in his spare time,” Derek chortled. “And he agreed with me that you should get taken down a peg or two.”

My shorts felt loose as I lost another inch. Two.

“You bastard!” I yelled, and my voice cracked.

“So now you’re going to know what it feels like to be a scrawny little nerd, obsessed with big muscle guys.”

Oh god, even my dick was shrinking. I could feel the jock loosen around my balls. I should have been pissed, but… I just saw this behemoth in front of me, his thighs bulging in his dark green shorts. My now tinier dick was hard and getting harder. Fuck! I was getting horny looking at Derek!

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, sounding like some little bitch.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror to the side. I must be barely 5'4’’ now! I’d be lucky if I weighed 120!

Derek grinned at me.

“You want this, don’t you?” he said, and flexed his massive arms.

Fuck. I did. My shorts, now too baggy for my shrunken frame, fell down around my ankles. God, even my feet had shrunk! My size 13 sneakers made me feel like I was wearing clown shoes.

I stared at Derek, impossibly horny. God, I wanted him to fuck me. To pin me down with his massive bulk. He stood over me, a giant, seemingly impossibly tall after once being just an inch shorter than me. He pushed me to my new, skinny knees.

“Not giving orders anymore, are you, you horny little twink?” he laughed.

And then I saw the earbuds still in.

“Shut up, Muscle Slave,” I snapped.

Derek blinked. His jaw started to go slack.

“What…?” he trailed off. He looked wobbly.

“Sit down, Muscle Slave,” I said.

He did.

Fuck. I was horny. And now this massive muscle god was sitting in front of me, awaiting orders.

I wrapped my new smaller hand around my tiny, hard cock. My other hand moved its way to my ass. God, fuck, I was so small, and horny.

I needed to get fucked.

“You’re right,” I purred, tracing my hand down Derek’s massive shoulder. “I’m just a horny little twink boy.”

His eyes seemed glazed.

“And now you’re gonna fuck me like I’m the center of your reality.”

I saw his dick twitch in his green shorts.

“Fuck me, Muscle Slave,” I whispered.

He picked me up right out of my now massive shoes with one arm, and slid off the now comically large jockstrap down my now-hairless legs. He turned me around, and I felt his massive cock push against my ass.

“Yes, master,” he said.

I started to grind my perky little ass against his raging boner. I felt the sinew of his muscles gripping me, enveloping me. I wanted to worship every one of them.

Fuck.

I was a horny little muscle-obssed fuckboi.

I moaned in my higher voice.

It was the “Big” part of Big Max’s name that rubbed me the wrong way. Seriously, all that clumsy mass and you have to rub it in people’s faces with your self-chosen nickname? After I was done with him, the irony would be the best part.

He started into his shtick as I fired up the machine (“photography equipment” I had lied to him): “Have you ever seen this much beef on one man? This is over 300 pounds of rock hard muscle. I bet you wish you could get your hands on all this mass. I’m not surprised. Everybody wants a piece of a specimen of pure manhood like me.”

I let him drone on as my device came online. The tank was empty—but not for long. I had him strip down to his undies and move in front of the mirror. (I had to say, while his thighs and glutes stressed those boxer-briefs to their limit, the front pouch seemed a little empty in comparison!)

He was still prattling on about his hard-built manliness when, instead of a flash, a beam hit him. All that size and masculinity drained away in a moment.

“You might need a wide angle lens to capture all of me,” he began, not even realizing that he’d lost half his bodyweight in an instant. He cleared his throat, surprised at the higher pitch voice, and tried again. “You want to see these big... cannonball... arms...”

His voice trailed off as he saw his new body—and he gulped as I approached, towering over this cute little fuckboy my machine had left behind.

“So are you gonna keep the nickname?” I teased him as he kept flexing muscles and angsting over the little bumps that produced. “Because right now? It looks like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

It had been three weeks since the change.

Levi stood in front of the mirror, arm folded across his bare stomach, phone held aloft. There was nothing to distract from the reality he couldn’t ignore: the soft, hairless thighs; the narrow shoulders; in a body that no longer felt powerful.

This was him now. This twink.