TF Changes Library

John had heard rumors for a few weeks now of what people were just calling “The Change”—a “magic pill” that could give you the body you always wanted. That’s how he found himself standing in a back alley with a guy who said he could hook him up with the pill. Just a single pill that could change his life. The man was beautiful, so despite his concerns, the chance of having a body like stranger's won out and he took the shiny black pill from the man. 

Jerry couldn’t believe the man in front of him was his friend John. The tattoos, the muscles… he was hot. John—or Jonny, as he preferred now—said it was all thanks to the little black pill. It was the Change he’d needed, and he insisted Jerry should try it for himself.

Kyle could not believe he had hooked up with someone at the bar where he worked; it really wasn’t like him. But the man lying next to him was incredibly hot, and last night had definitely been fun. It wasn’t long before the man got up, saying he needed to head home. As he left, he mentioned leaving a present on the bedside table—a "Change" he knew Kyle would enjoy.

Joseph was still in a bit of shock as the massive redheaded man dragged him toward the restroom. He knew it was his friend Kyle—or Callum now?—but he still couldn’t believe that the tiny pill had changed his friend into this hunk of a man.

"Dude, I'm screwed," Marcus groaned, tapping his head against the desk. "Coach is gonna bench me if I don't show I'm worth during next game, but I don't have time to train or do anything because of this shit ass exam. I fucking hate organic chemistry. I wish I had full sports scholarship so I wouldn't have to worry about this stuff"

Devin looked up from his desk. "You're being dramatic. You did well on all exams this semester. And you are a good player. You'll do well. I believe in you" he said trying to be a bit more supportive towards his friend.

"Yeah, but that's all thanks to you and your tutoring. Seriously, thanks dude. I don't know what would I do without you " Marcus said, grabbing his own bicep. "Look at this. I'm 6'2 and weigh, what, 175 soaking wet? I get bodied every time I drive the lane. I need to put on some weight."

"You could just… eat more?" Devin suggested ignorantly.

"Bro, I eat. It doesn't stick. If only it was that easy" Marcus sighed. "If I was like 185, maybe I could actually hold my own down low. Get some rebounds. Be a little more physical."

Devin pulled out his phone, half-listening. He'd downloaded some weird app his old roommate sent him. He was given a free trial to test it out. Supposedly you could type things and they'd happen. Probably bullshit, but whatever. He just wanted to test it and this seemed like a good time for it.

Marcus weighs 185 pounds.

Marcus was still talking, but something was different. Looking at him, his shoulders looked broader under his tank top. His arms, usually wiry, now had visible definition. Not huge, but… solid.

"-and then I could actually finish through contact, you know? Like if I was 195, man. That's the dream. Just ten more pounds of muscle and I'd be unstoppable on the field."

"Wait," Devin blinked. "You said you just wanted to be 185."

"185?" Marcus laughed. "Nah, I hit 185 few months ago, your math is wrong. Keep up, man." He stretched a bit , his shirt definitely a lot tigher than it used to be "Been stuck at 185 for months though. Plateau is real. But I don't think I could get that big and continue playing basketball. These babies would just be too big" he added flexing his biceps that was now definitely more noticable.

Devin looked down at his phone. Then back at Marcus. Then at the phone.

Marcus weighs 195 pounds.

"That's why I switched to football, honestly. Able to get a lot bigger"

Devin's head snapped up. "Football? But didn't you play basketball"

Marcus was bigger now. Noticeably bigger. His tank top was straining. His neck had thickened, his chest pushing the fabric outward. He cracked his neck and kept going like nothing had changed.

"Yeah, played. Past tense dude. Back in highschool. You are supposed to be the smart one here" he laughed, his voice deeper "But I could never get this big and stay at basketball" Marcus leaned forward, and Devin could see the way his pecs bunched together. The tank top seams were working overtime. "I've been playing football since freshman year of college. You literally came to the homecoming game. Sat in the front row."

Devin had no memory of this. But it felt real. It felt true. Shaking his head after acquiring a new memory, Devin focused on more pressing matters... "You want to get even bigger?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Bigger?" Marcus stood up and stretched. The tank top rode up, revealing a tight stomach with the outline of his abs. "I mean… yeah. Honestly? If I could hit 220, I'd be a monster on the field. Tight ends are getting bigger every year. The guys I'm blocking are like 240, 250. I feel small half the time."

"Small." Devin's voice was flat. "You feel small."

"Bro, you don't get it because you don't play." Marcus turned as he heard a small rip. Looking at his tank top, he paused, frowning. "Fuck. I could swear this fit better the other day. I keep outgrowing my clothes lately." He said like it's the most normal thing that kept happening to him. Still, he quickly went back to the original topic... "220 is the goal. But 230?" His eyes got a little dreamy. "At 230 I could play defensive end. Always wanted to rush the passer. Just destroy quarterbacks."

Devin was already typing. He noticed the pattern so he was already a step ahead of Marcus. There was no way anyone would be disatisfied with 250.

Marcus weighs 250 pounds.

And Devin marveled at the change. Marcus's shoulders flared outward, his lats pushing his arms away from his body as the tank top gave up completely. His quads thickened, forcing his stance a little wider as his sweatpants almost tore apart. His chest expended every time he inhaled, but it didn't seem to get smaller when he exhaled. No... Instead it kept on getting bigger. His massive pecs forming a shelf that casted a shadow ober his abs. His jaw looked sharper, more defined. Everything about him was just… more. Was he taller? Perhaps the app changed his size a bit to make room for more muscle...

"Yeah," Marcus said, his voice dropping just slightly, like it had gained some bass. "Honestly being 250 is great. Defensive end is where it's at. The quarterback never sees me coming. Last game I had three sacks. The Coach said some scouts are already asking about me. NFL here I come" He grinned, and even his smile looked more confident.

Devin meanwhile stared at the man in front of him...the broad chest, the thick arms, the way he seemed to fill the room just by standing in it. He'd started this conversation with a lanky basketball player. Now there was a defensive end standing in his dorm room, talking about the NFL like it was inevitable. He couldn't help himself as his thumb hovered over the screen. Marcus was already massive. A 250 pounds of muscle packed into a torn tank top, looking like he could bulldoze through a brick wall. That was enough... at least for now. But Devin's mind started to wonder. What else could this app do?

Marcus caught him staring. "What are you looking at, bro?" He said putting on a new shirt since the last tank top gave up, casually flexing his bicep as it grew to the size of a football. "You've been on your phone all night. Texting some girl?"

"Something like that," Devin muttered. Looking at this muscle hunk he had just created, Devin got a little greedy. Marcus was looking so good, he had to adda few more things-

Marcus has a massive bulge. He's extremely well endowed. He's not shy about it.

"You know what's funny," Marcus said, shifting his weight and spreading his legs a little wider as he sat down, not seemingly not wearing any shorts. He was done with studying for tonight. "Playing D-end, you get a lot of attention. Girls love the big guys." He gestured down at himself and smirked.

Devin's eyes involuntarily dropped. The underwear that Marcus was wearing were suddenly… full. Very full. There was a prominent, thick outline of his bulge running down his thigh that definitely hadn't been there a minute ago. Devin felt his face get hot.

"Dude, my eyes are up here," Marcus laughed, but he didn't sound offended. If anything, he sounded proud. He leaned back on his hands, which only made the situation more obvious. "Not my fault I got blessed, you know? Genetics, man. Some guys get this or that. But I got it all. Muscle, height, dick. What more could man ask for" The man simply smirked

"Right," Devin choked out. "Genetics."

"I mean, you've seen it in the showers. You know what I'm working with." Marcus said it so casually, like it was common knowledge, as he stood up, moving to the bed behind them and the poor chair made a sound in relief. And suddenly... There was another memory in Devin's head. His brain supplied the picture. He had seen it. Marcus was famous for it on the team. Guys joked that he had to tape it down before games. A third leg. That's what they called him.

"Anyway" Marcus continued, adjusting himself without a hint of shame, "Coach wants me to move to offensive line. Says at my size I could be a hell of a left tackle. Protect the quarterback's blind side." He cracked his knuckles. "But I don't know. D-end is more fun. You get to be aggressive."

Devin was only half-listening. His eyes kept drifting down to Marcus's lap, where the thick outline seemed to pulse slightly every time the big man shifted his weight. It was hypnotic. It was also giving Devin ideas.

Marcus is extremely horny all the time. He talks about it openly.

"-and the thing about offensive line is the stance," Marcus was saying, then paused. He let out a low groan and adjusted himself again, more forcefully this time. "Sorry bro. I've been so damn worked up lately. It's annoying."

"Yeah?" Devin's voice came out squeakier than he intended.

"Dude, it's constant. I wake up ready to go. Practice is brutal because I'm chafing in my cup half the time. Showers after? Forget about it. I have to wait till everyone leaves or I'll poke someone's eye out." He laughed, but there was smugness in his expression. "Coach says it's all the testosterone. Guy at my size, lifting as heavy as I do, eating as much as I do… it simply natural"

"So you just… walk around like that?" He said pointing at the hard on he was having at the moment.

"Pretty much." Marcus didn't look embarrassed. If anything, he looked proud of it, like it was just another muscle he'd built. "Girlfriends love it at first. Then they get tired. I had one tell me I was 'too much to handle.'" He made air quotes with his thick fingers, before starting to casually stroke himself. Loking back at Devin, as if he wasn't just pleasuring himself, Marcus smirked again "You've got that look on your face."

"What look?" Devin asked, quickly shaking his head as he looked up from Marcus obvious bulge that was being stroked by those rough and collosal hands. He could see the thick outline of his new dick and the raging libido that came with it. It was... Mesmerizing. But he couldn't just stare at it-!

"The one where you're thinking too hard about something." Marcus studied him with those dark eyes... had they always been that deep brown? "You always do that. It's kind of cute, actually."

"Cute?" Devin's voice cracked. Did his straight roommate call him cute? He could feel it... The blood flowing through him and making his face fed.

"Yeah. That's the word." Marcus said it with a shrug. "You get all flustered. Your ears turn red. It's endearing." He leaned forward, hands still in his underwear . "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

'I'm not into girls' Devin thought as he looked as his phone, already with an idea on how to solve this situation. His thumb hesitated over the screen. Then he typed.

Marcus is bisexual. He prefers men. Specifically, he is deeply attracted to Devin.

A strange look crossed Marcus's face. He blinked slowly, as if seeing something or someone for the very first time. His gaze traveled from Devin's face down and back up again. The casual energy in the room shifted, grew charged.

"You know what?" Marcus said, his voice dropping into a lower register, "Scratch that. Any girl is the wrong thing to say." He stopped stroking himself as he stood up from the bed, all 6'5" of him, packed with 250 pounds of muscle, and crossed the small distance between them. "What I meant to say is... I've been thinking about you differently lately, Devin."

"You have?" Devin's voice was barely a whisper as he couldn't believe what was happening. He saw what the app could do, but this... This was on another level... Was he being too greedy with these changes? It startered out of joke, then goodwill but at the end was only fuffling his fantasies...

"Mm." Marcus was very close now, his face inches away from Devin's "I have. You're always here for me. You're smart. You're funny. And honestly..." He reached out and gently took the phone from Devin's nervous fingers, setting it aside on the desk without even glancing at it. "I find you incredibly attractive. I was just afraid to say it before. But this feels like the right moment, doesn't it? It feels... right." His hand came up, warm and solid, to cup Devin's "Tell me if I'm reading this wrong. Tell me you don't feel it too, and I'll back off. We'll go back to just being friends. No weirdness."

Devin's mind was racing through everything that had changed in the last fifteen minutes. The size, the height, the whole impossible wave of transformations. But looking up into those dark... And huge pecs, he found it hard to care about consequences. "You're not reading it wrong," he said quietly.

"Great." Marcus smiled "Because I was hoping that's what this meant" he said jokingly pointing out small bulge in Devin's pants and the smaller boy immediately blushed even harder. Taking him to bed, Marcus simply smiled "Since you are on board... I've got some ideas about what we should do tonight. And none of them involve studying."

Wanda desperately wanted her kids back. While studying the Darkhold, she discovered a spell that could permanently swap her consciousness with a multiversal counterpart. The spell was really hard to pull off correctly and could only be performed once, but she was so desperate she didn’t care about the risks. As she performed the spell, she felt her spirit begin to leave her body and enter the multiverse. 

When she opened her eyes, her surroundings were not what she expected. She found herself on some sort of spaceship. When she looked into a mirror, she was shocked to see none other than Peter Quill as her reflection.

It dawned on her that she had messed up the spell and potentially her only chance to get her kids back. She broke down on the floor and felt no connection to her previous powers. As her mind raced, she came up with an idea. She got up and examined herself in the mirror. This body was decently attractive, and she knew this universe’s version of her was a single mom.

She or now he would begin planning out how to end up with his multiversal counterpart. He would start by leaving the Guardians to return to Earth and start to put an emphasis on his looks, going for a more clean-cut style. Then he would slowly work his way into this Wanda’s life so he can be Billy and Tommy’s stepfather. Knowing everything about this universe’s Wanda from the countless hours he spent dreaming of her life, he was able to sweep her off her feet and soon marry her, no problem.

One time the Guardians paid Quill a visit and were shocked to see him now. Suddenly he now went by “Peter Maximoff” and lived as some stay-at-home husband dressed all clean-cut in nice clothes, spending his time taking care of his stepkids and occasionally going golfing with the other dads of Westview. It was like he was a completely different person unknown to them; he actually was.

While this definitely wasn’t the way Wanda imagined things going, he can’t say he has any complaints about his new life. He is just happy to be living with his new wife and kids while trying to be the best husband and stepfather he can be.

A/N: Exactly what it says on the tin can. Also if you know me, and you can deduce form this title, you probably know what the next one is.

“Dustin what the fuck!” I shouted walking into my room, seeing my younger brother on my bed in my boxer briefs.

“Oh, hey bro,” He sat up slightly after having enjoyed a nap in my space completely unbothered. There was something in his cadence that annoyed me, the fact it was my cadence. My attitude, my brain, He even looked as old as me. His body had co-opted all my hard work and given him the muscles and height it took years to achieve, all because he put on my underwear.

The worst thing about it? It was hard to stay angry seeing the fat ass I had given him. And fuck if his balls didn’t look as full as mine laying there, legs spread open.

“Don’t ‘hey bro’ me,” I replied. He even had on my dress socks. He knew I only had one pair of those for job interviews. “I knew you took my underwear this morning! I had my whole outfit planned out.”

“I assume that means you didn’t get the job.” he stated

Rolling my eyes, I did air quotes “Oh ‘assume’, look at you using big words from me.”

“Look bro, regardless of what you were wearing or not. If they didn't give you the job it wasn't meant to be.”

He was using my own reasoning against me. How many times had I said that to friends to calm them down? Well guess what, my words weren’t working on me. “So what, I sweat out my interview while you’re living large. Mom and dad thinking I’m just sleeping away in here.”

“It was a nice nap.” he laughed my laugh, but in his new deeper voice, which by the grace of the universe wasn’t a copy of mine. Small victories.

“I bet.” I spat, putting my bag on the floor.

“Look instead of being mad, let me make it up to you.” he stated.

“How do you plan to do that; you steal a job opportunity from me too?” I started pulling off my suit.

“No,” he chuckled. “Come fuck my ass, take a load off, dump a load.” He spread his legs wider, that perfect rump on display. Offering my ass and cock was a specialty of mine, never something I thought my brother would pick up from me. But honestly after the shit day I had I needed it. Pulling off my tie I climbed into the bed behind him. After stealing my shit, he was going to be taking more than a load.

Will and James had been best friends since high school. They were both good-looking, but James had always been the more rugged, adventurous one. So when James suggested they swap bodies for the big lake house party that night “just for fun,” Will, curious and a little tipsy already, agreed. They used the strange antique ring James had found. One flash later, Will was staring out of James’s taller, broader body, while James grinned with Will’s leaner, prettier face.

“Fuck, dude. You feel good,” James said in Will’s voice, running his new hands over his chest. “Let’s go fuck shit up.”

The party was wild. They agreed to swap back at midnight.

But James got drunk. Really drunk.

Will spent the first few hours enjoying himself, getting attention from girls and guys alike. But as the night went on, James stopped replying to his texts. Will started to panic. He spent the rest of the night tracking down his own body. He finally found it at 3 a.m., sitting on the back porch, looking dazed.

Will’s slim, athletic, curly-haired body looked completely out of place. He was shirtless, sweat glistening on the lean muscle, but his posture was slouched, one hand resting on his flat stomach like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. His eyes were glassy and confused as he stared down at the tight abs and smooth chest that definitely didn’t belong to him.

Will, still in James’s bod, froze. “James… what’s goin on? It’s been hours and I hadn’t heard from you! We were supposed to swap back at midnight! Where have you been?”

Will’s handsome face looked up at him and slurred, “Kid… what the fuck is this? I was just at the bar down the street drinkin with the boys… now I’m… Jesus, this body is so young… so…tight.” Will’s body ran its hands slowly over the lean chest, squeezing the pecs, then down the abs, clearly mesmerized. His new cock was half-hard in Will’s shorts, twitching visibly.

Will’s stomach dropped.

“I got no clue who James is,” he continued with a filthy chuckle. The old man in Will’s body just laughed drunkenly, still groping himself. “Some blonde kid ran up to me at the bar talkin about “swappin”… said it was a game. Then he actually swapped again and left me like this. Ran off with my 57 year old construction worker bod and left me… well… left me in this!” He chuckled again.

He flexed one of Will’s arms experimentally, then bounced the pecs, letting out a low, filthy groan at how responsive the athletic frame was.

Will stood there in horror as the old stranger continued exploring his stolen body, touching, squeezing, and shamelessly adjusting the growing bulge in his shorts right there on the porch. His perfect, lean, hard-earned body was now occupied by some random old fat man.

Will stepped closer, a desperation to his tone that sounds weird coming from James’s usually cocky voice. “Well you see uh… that’s actually my body… James here-” He motions to his current body, “He’s my best mate and we thought it’d be fun to swap bodies for the night and now well.. we’re here!”

The old man, now in Will’s drunken form, stared blankly at Will, almost as if he wasn’t listening.

“So uh… can we swap? I want my body back…”

The old man stood up, his sweaty torso glistening in the moonlight, “Hell no, kid. This body is fucking incredible.”

He stood up, still shirtless, and ran his hands down Will’s torso again, squeezing the pecs, tracing every ridge of the abs, then sliding lower to grope the front of the shorts where a clear bulge was forming.

“I was a fat old bastard drinking at the bar… and now I’m this? Tight, young, and hung? Nah. I’m keeping it.”

Will’s heart sank. “We can swap back. The ring-”

“The blond kid who put me in here took the ring with him when he swapped with me,” the old man interrupted, still shamelessly touching and exploring Will’s body. He flexed one arm, then bounced the pecs, letting out a low moan at how good it felt. “Even if we had it, I wouldn’t use it. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

There was no way back. Will was permanently stuck in his best friend’s body.

And the random old stranger was keeping his.

The old man smirked with Will’s charming smile, adjusted the growing bulge in the shorts, and patted his new flat stomach.

“Better get used to it, kid. I plan on putting this tight little body to very good use.”

With that, he walked back into the party with a swagger that looked unfamiliar on Will’s usually more timid body.

———

A few days later, Will’s phone buzzed while he was still trying to adjust to life in James’s bigger body.

It was a text from his old phone number.

Attached were several new photos: his own lean, curly-haired body on the tennis court at dusk, shirtless, sweaty, and smiling. In one shot he was flexing with the racket in hand. The other, a cute little pose, clearly trying to look good for whoever was behind the camera.. Will didn’t want to know who it was.

The message read:

“Bro you would not believe how much fun I’m having in this body 😂 I figure you used to be gay but man, these tennis girls keep checking me out. Thanks for the upgrade man, I’m keeping this one.”

Will stared at the photos of his former self, now permanently occupied by that random old man who clearly had no intention of giving it back, and felt a deep, sinking humiliation settle in his chest.

His perfect body was gone forever.

On a late afternoon in the park, Tim was catching some sunlight while laying down on a massive blanket with his favorite pair of expensive sunglasses on. As he rested, some random man walked up to him. Sensing his presence, Tim raised his shades and shot him a glare. 

“Hey, excuse me? You were with that old lady just now, right? What were you guys talking about?” the man asked. Tim looked confused. The man pointed towards an elderly woman who was painting a landscape portrait of the duck pond. 

“Her! Do you know her name?”

“Nahhhhh brah,” Tim threw his shades back on and laid back down with his arms behind his head. “Never talked to that old chick before. If that’s all you had to ask, step out the way lil bro, you’re blocking the sun. I’m tryna tan this 6 pack before spring break comes around.”

The man had a puzzled look on his face, but did not press Tom further and left. As Tim continued perfecting his tan, he began mentally mapping out which beaches should have the best parties. Loud music… Free drinks… And all the ass he could ever want, Tim smirked to himself. He was oozing with a confidence so arrogant, you would’ve never imagined that he was an elderly gentleman a mere hour ago.

***

There was a famous duck pond at the local park in town. During migration season, families would frequently spend the whole day hanging out at the park while watching the ducks play in the water. Among the usual patrons, there was a strange, old lady who arguably spent the most time at the duck pond. Every Sunday without fail, she would show up with a blank canvas and acrylic paints and just paint from sunrise to sunset. She had painted everything you could possibly imagine from the grassy landscape to silly portraits of ducks in tuxedos. She was a natural talent with the paintbrush.

So what made this old woman with a taste for art so strange? Well, for starters, nobody knew who she was. She had come to be affectionately known as the “Lady at the Pond” over the years, but nobody knew her real name. A handful of people have tried talking with her, but she only responded with head nods and maybe the occasional grunt if you were lucky. And, aside from her regular Sunday appearance at the duck pond, she was never seen anywhere else in town. It was as though she disappeared like a mirage once the sun set in the evening. She had become something of a local legend because of the mystery surrounding who she was. Although since she just kept to herself in her little secluded corner of the pond, most people just left her alone.

One day, on an ordinary Sunday afternoon, an elderly gentleman named Tim was passing through the park. Tim was from out of town and wanted to see the local hot spots. He had heard about the duck pond at a nearby cafe and decided to pay the ducks a visit. While enjoying his leisurely stroll around the pond, he came across the Lady at the Pond. She was mixing colors for the clouds in her next landscape piece. Tim knew a thing or two about art. He found himself mesmerized by the Lady’s handiwork as her pencil danced across the canvas like a feather in the wind. Her technique gave away that she was no amateur. Tim had no choice; he simply had to pay her a compliment!

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Tim approached her with his hat to his chest. “Forgive me for staring, but I couldn’t help but notice how excellent you are with that paintbrush! Could I trouble you with a few questions?” 

“Mmm…” the Lady hummed. Tim was disconcerted by her curt response, but decided it would suffice as a go-ahead. He then proceeded to ask her a multitude of questions ranging from her personal tastes in art to if she had ever painted on a professional level. However, despite Tim’s enthusiasm, most of his questions were met with silence. Only a select few questions garnered at most an affirmative grunt from the Lady, who never once stopped her creative process while Tim fired question after question. This lasted a long time until Tim finally had enough with the one-sided conversation. 

“Thank you for your time, ma’am, and my apologies again for disturbing you. Have a good evening.”

Tim excused himself, but before he could leave, the Lady slammed her brush down on her canvas stand. Tom froze. The Lady’s arms shot for her bag where she then produced a second blank canvas and a portable pop-up stool. Tim watched with wide eyes as she set up the stool at a frightening speed. Once it was ready, she returned behind her canvas stand, brush and color palette at the ready. 

“…What?” Tim asked. “You want me to sit?”

She nodded. Tom obliged. 

“Are you going to paint my portrait?”

She nodded again as she began taking mental measurements of Tim’s features. 

“Oh, no no,” Tim stood up. “I couldn’t possibly accept this—” 

The Lady cut him off mid-sentence and forced him back down onto the stool. She was unexpectedly strong for someone her age! Tim sat there, eyes blinking slowly. He then took out his wallet and pulled out a clean, hundred dollar bill. 

“Well then, at the very least, allow me to pay for your work.”

The Lady waved his money away. She let out an angry huff every time Tim insisted. Tim gave up after about a dozen attempts. It was becoming all too clear that the Lady was going to have her way no matter what. He adjusted himself into a comfortable position and gave his best smile for the Lady. Might as well make it a good portrait. 

Once Tim stopped protesting, the Lady closed her eyes and took exactly four deep breaths. Then, she stood there in complete silence. A minute passed without the Lady moving a single muscle. Then another. And another. Not a single sound. 

Tim grew uneasy as the minutes passed by. Could this be some sort of pre-painting meditation ritual? Tim wasn't sure, but before he could do anything, the Lady let out an ungodly shrill shriek. Her face was pointed towards the sky as she cried out for what seemed like an eternity. Once she was done, she began swiping at her canvas with an intense fury. Her brushstrokes were erratic and violent, the complete opposite of her sophisticated, gentle pacing from earlier. Tim watched with fearful eyes. He refused to break his pose lest the Lady lash out at him next. But little did he know that despite the Lady's wild new handiwork, she was in the middle of creating a masterpiece of a portrait. 

There was just one small catch… While the portrait's subject was indeed Tim, it was a painting of his younger self from his college days some 45 years ago. 

As the Lady continued her creative process, Tim began feeling a prickly sensation all over his face. He tried to ignore it at first, but the pain soon became too much. Tim broke his pose and grabbed his face. It was like the inside of his skin was being poked by hot needles. As Tim kneeled over in pain, all the loose skin from old age began stretching and constricting. His flabby double chin tightened until he had his old jawline back. All the gray hairs in his mustache regained their brown color. Locks of healthy, brown hair came out in sprouts on his bald dome until he had a full head of hair again. Soon enough, Tim's face had fully reverted to a younger version of himself. 

With the face of a college student and the body of an elderly man, Tim looked like a supernatural abomination. 

“Huh? What’s going on? What’s happening to me? What’s wrong with my voice?” Tim shouted with a youthful vigor he had not had in decades. His hands reached for his throat. The needles were moving down his body, and all the while the Lady continued working on her latest masterpiece. She dabbed her brush with a fresh layer of paint, then focused on the finer details of Tim’s private area. 

“ARGH FUCKK!!” Tim cried out. The needles were at his crotch now. He grabbed his nuts in pain as they swelled in size. He tried massaging them, hoping it would help soothe the pain, but all it did was make him moan. The pleasure was the most embarrassing part. His junk had become extra sensitive. Each touch sent another wave of warm pleasure throughout his crotch, causing him to moan obscenely. Within the next minute, Tim had experienced something he hadn't felt in a long time. A boner. It pressed against his pants, practically begging to be freed. 

“FUCK!! Ohhh fuck why does it feel so good!?” Tim could not stop rubbing himself as his old man cock reverted back to its former glory. Tim let out deep, guttural groans as he pawed at his throbbing rod. His balls bounced with each stroke he managed to give himself through his pants. Once his family jewels were back in prime condition, they got to work almost immediately churning out fresh loads of extra fertile seed. Each load meant another surge of testosterone pumped out into the rest of Tim’s body. The hormones helped speed up the rest of Tim’s age reversal. 

Tim arched his back as the warm, prickly sensation spread throughout his torso. All the flabby parts of his old body tightened. His thin, gray chest hair fell out to make space for new hair. His chest regained lost mass until each pec was nice, round, and firm with enough muscle to form chest dimples when he flexed. Each individual ab came out on his stomach with an audible pop, leaving him with a well-defined six pack with a fine layer of body hair. By the end of it, Tim's body had reverted back to his younger self. 

Tim was panting. He was sweaty and sore due to the sudden transformation. He noticed the Lady had finished painting. Tim stumbled over to the canvas stand on unsteady feet. He took one good look at the completed portrait, then fell to his knees. 

“H-H-How…? How d-did you know what I looked like when I was younger?” Tim looked up at the Lady. She remained quiet as usual. 

“Why am I so young again? You…! Wh-what did you do to me!?” 

Still no response. Although, there was a very faint smile that began cracking the Lady's face. The sight of it was enough to send Tim into a hyperventilating mess.

“You-YOU! You monster!!” Tim scrambled to get away from the Lady. “I don't know what you are or how you did this, but I'm telling everyone the truth about you!”

The Lady's smile vanished. She watched with a cold stare as Tim ran away. She grabbed her paintbrush, tapped it into the red paint on her palette, and swung it at the portrait, painting an ugly red circle on Tim's forehead. Once it was done, she smiled again. 

Meanwhile, Tim was in the middle of a mad dash to get as far away from the Lady as quickly as his legs could carry him. He made it just outside the park boundary when an intense headache brought him to a screeching halt. The pain shot throughout the center of his skull, causing Tim to grab his head while screaming in agony. Then, one by one, memories he had accumulated over his adulthood began disappearing. His encounter with the Lady in the Park. His massive 50th birthday party with the whole family. His retirement from a long career of firefighting. The birth of his only daughter. His wedding day. His college graduation. His first date with his beautiful wife, the woman who changed him for the better. It was all gone within minutes. The memory wipe was incredibly thorough, only stopping once he regressed to his old self. Tim had become 22 years old again, both in mind AND in body. 

Tim stumbled to get back on his feet. The world was spinning. Probably just a bad hangover again. Nothing Tim couldn't handle. He took a look at his surroundings. Tim had no idea where he was, but that didn't bother him too much. After all, a hottie wearing shorts that left little to the imagination just jogged past him. Tim watched the jogger's ass jiggle as they ran. Just the sight of that ass was enough to make Tim hard. There was already a precum mark in his boxers. When did that get there? Tim didn't know nor did he care. After all, he was about to score his next body. He was young, handsome, and strong with a confidence that practically glowed. He was him, and Tim knew that very well.

Tony snapped a pic of himself in the gym mirror, admiring the muscles he had been cultivating for years, both in high school and now college, to be in and stay in proper shape for the Football Team. By his second year of college, he was the star quarterback and was already getting scouted for after graduation. The position made him popular with everyone on campus as he continued to lead the team to the championships. Faculty loved him, recruiters loved him, his bros looked up to him, and the ladies wanted to be with him. Already keeping himself as clean and perfect as he could (muscles, looks, smells) helped his perfect image and ego, the constant praise from everyone was a massive ego boost!

What wasn't an ego boost was the fact that Tony was having to take Health & Exercise 101 in his third year of college now. Between his jumpstart into football and business classes, his stupid advisor forgot to schedule him for the required course. So now, he found himself amongst a bunch of nobodies struggling to pick up a weight and unable to keep proper form. Losers, all of them. But not him, not Tony. He was perfect.

"Mr. DeMarcos, if you don't mind, the rest of the class is ready to begin," an annoyed voice called out to Tony. His professor, Coach Helkin. Tony didn't like the middle-aged balding man, and the dislike was mutual. Helkin was always condescending to Tony, making it a point to take jabs at Tony if he was late or an assignment wasn't perfect, probably jealous of Tony's popularity. "And I know other professors may let you do as you please on campus, but in my class we keep out phones put away and actually pay attention."

Tony rolled his eyes and threw his phone in his pocket before walking over to the group surrounding Mr. Helkin. The group stood before a series of lifting benches with barbells resting above them. Tony looked at the barbells with how much weight they had affixed and just chuckled, especially at the thought of these losers even trying to lift it.

Apparently, the lesson for today was on proper form and safety in using the lifting bench, something Tony had already been doing for years. Coach Helkin droned on how to hold your arms, how to take breaks, needing a spotter... yada yada yada... Tony tuned out the old man, instead thinking of one of the cheerleaders who flirted with him at the end of the last game. Her plump lips, her nice curves, her perky butt...

*CLAP!* A loud sound and sudden movement broke Tony away from his daydream. Coach Helkin had clapped his hands together right in front of Tony's face. "Mr. DeMarcos! Welcome back to my class. Now if you would please join Mr. Askew at the remaining bench to practice. I wanna see simple, clean reps. Proper form. And no extra weights."

As Tony looked, it seemed as if everyone else had already paired of and begun practiced lifting the barbell. Most of them struggled with the lightweight lift, while taking slow and simple. As Coach Helkin started walking off to keep an eye on everyone, his "workout partner" remained. A shorter nerdy-looking guy, brown hair, glasses, kinda mousy, noodle arms and some definite chub around his belly.

"Hi. My name's Stuart. I'm looking forward to uhh... trying this out with you." The nerd stammered as the duo walked over to the remaining bench. Tony could already see slight pit stains on the nerd's shirt and the faint oniony smell of sweat. "Sure Stu... Name's Tony. Why don't I show you how it's done?"

Tony swiftly laid down on the bench and got himself positioned underneath the barbell. "Just stand behind me and look like your helping so Coach Helkin doesn't get mad at me," he said while snickering at the nerd. "O-oh... okay... and the name's Stuart by the way." Stuart moved to the head of the bench and Tony smelt a similar onion scent, his nose wrinkling at the smell.

"Now watch and learn Stu!" Tony quickly began to lift the barbell over and over, showing off how easy it was and quickly surpassing the number of reps required for class. "Ummm... Tony I think y-you finished your turn. Shouldn't I-" Stuart clutched his stomach and a loud gurgle sounded out. He turned around in discomfort, bending over slightly as the gurgling grew louder. "Oh... I think that extra cheesy meat lover's pizza isn't agreeing with me," Stuart groaned. Tony too busy showing off didn't notice his workout partner's pain nor the nerd butt looming near his head. Another loud gurgle sounded out from Stuart's stomach before...

*PFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTTT* *PBBBBBLLLLLLLLTTTTT*

Two wet, meaty farts blasted out of Stuart's nerd butt right into Tony's face. And unfortunately for the jock, he was just taking a deep breath between pushes. Tony got a full breath of the rank gas, a stench of old cheese and meat, it was like he was eating the pizza himself. Tony was used to athlete funk but this was far worse than he had ever experienced and could help but cough trying to get oxygen into his lungs.

As Tony began choking on the stench, Stuart, now red-faced and embarrassed, quickly began try apologizing before running off to the gym locker room. As the nerd ran away, Tony looked up ready to punch the loser in the face but his fury faded quickly... instead he saw the fat nerd ass bouncing away... and he wanted to be angry, enraged... but found himself staring before Stu disappeared from view.

Tony quickly got up from his coughing position on the ground, ignoring Coach Helkin's heckling about loudly dropping the weights and headed towards the locker room. It was almost that smell of old cheese and meat was a trail becokoning him forth. Reaching the door, Tony continued to hear *PBBBBLLLTTTT* *PFFFFTT* *PFFFFFFTTTTTT* echoing inside. The sound was strangely music to his hears and the locker room smelled better than it had.

"Hey uh Stu... uhhh Stuart, you in here?" Tony entered into the miasma of stink inside the locker room, now a complete cloud of fartfunk... and Tony couldnt help but take a deep breath as his pants started to tent up. Stepping in, the jock found the nerd quickly packing his bag as his plump... sexy ass... continued to spew farts. Stuart gasped at the jock's sudden appearance, "Ah! I'm s-sorry! It was a complete acc-cident! I would n-never...." Stuart's scared face faded into confusion as he began to watch Tony huff up more and more of the continued ass blasts. "Wha-what are you doing?"

Tony realized what was happening and quickly stopped sniffing those his reddened cheeks and pitched tent told the entire story. "Uhhhh... I'm just-" Tony tried to say, before taking in the full sight of the nerd. His cute chubby belly, his nerdy glasses, that fat ass, the dorky sweat, and those rank rank farts...

*PBBBLLLLLTTTTTT* Stuart let out another gassy blast, this time with a smirk. "You like that don't you?" The nerd's question elicited a whimper from Tony. "Normally, I try to watch when I eat my favorite meat lover's triple cheese pizza, but I forgot I had this class today. But it seems maybe that was the right thing to do." Stuart let out a chuckle, wiggling his nerd butt in the jock's direction, before releasing another gassy blast.

Tony couldn't takes his eyes off the ass. It was like the gas itself was holding his face in place and forcing him to sniff. He tried to think of the cheerleader before, her lips, her curves, her perky butt... to no avail. All he could see now was this dork. His dorky glasses, his chubby form, his FAT ASS! He wanted it all...

*PFFFFTTT PBLLLLTTTT* "Why don't you come over here and give it a big sniff Tony?" Stuart's face was smug and excited seeing the jock drop to his knees. Watching him crawl on his perfectly muscled arms and legs to the fat cheeks and take a big huff of the fumes. At that moment, it was if Tony's brain was entirely re-written. Any image of slutty cheerleader was replaced with that of every nerd throughout his time. He thought of hanging out with them, fucking them, huffing up all their stink... being just like them. "You know, I have more of that pizza in my dorm. And it would be cool to hangout with you. See you later Tony." Stuart gave Tony a wink as he left taking his gym bag and fartfunk with him. Tony sat there, continuing to huff the remaining stink as his gym shorts grew more and more wet.

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

Tony, after cleaning himself up and quickly fleeing from class, tried his hardest to resist the dork's offer. But resist he couldn't. His mind was just filled with images of Stuart. His boner had been persistent for the remainder of the day and only one thing seemed to bring relief. Which is why he found himself standing outside the simple dorm room. Inside he heard the sound of video games and the occasional munch on food. Tony shivered at the thought and gave a curt knock on the door.

"It's open!" the nerd's voice called out. As the door opened, a loud *PBBBBBBBLLLLLTTTTTT* rung through the air as Tony's eyes landed on the Perfect form of Stuart. Relaxing on the bed, eating away at the greasy pizza, there sat the gassy nerd.

As the fresh fart funk filled the already fetid messy room, Tony couldn't help himself in flying into the dorm room, slamming the door behind him. The thing that had entranced him now bellowed the most PERFECT pungent gas and he had to sniff it up! Tony wedged his face in between the nerd's cheeks to Stuart's surprise.

"Woah! Heheh calm down man. There's plenty more where that came from." Tony whined at the comment as Stuart scrunched up his face and pushed.

*PBBBBLLLTTTTT PFFFFFFTTTTT PPBBBBBBBLLLLLLTTTT PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT PFFFFTTTTTT*

Stuart leaned back, taking a breath from the long butt blasts, hearing Tony continue to huff and seeing a sticky wet patch grow on both the bed and the gym shorts. Stuart chuckled, "I bet an athlete like you also has some gas pent up too. All that protein has gotta go somewhere." He gave Tony a knowing look, that elicited a blush from the jock. Tony scrunched his face before *PBBBBBLLLLLTTT* a pungent wet blast erupted from his toned posterior. Stuart returned with a deep sniff of Tony's stink and let out a content sigh. "You know, I have been looking for a new roommate... and maybe boyfriend?" *PFFFFTTT* Tony's eyes filled with lust. "That sounds... perfect. Can I have some pizza?" Tony smirked.

Stuart's neighbors for the remainder of the evening heard a cacophony of gassy blasts and laughter over video game music and the stench emanating from the room kept anyone from snooping.

As the school year progressed, Tony stopped showing up to football practices and attending any parties. His usual crowd couldn't find him anywhere. But for Stuart and his friends, they had a great time introducing Tony to their favorite video games and tabletop games.

Tony also learned how fun it was to not have his strict routine of workouts and dieting and practice. How it was so much more fun to just relax and play video games and eat what wants. To avoid showering and instead just hangout with his friends. His body began to grow alongside his new boyfriend Stuart. His "perfect jock" form turning into his own actually perfect chubby nerdy body. And all that new food and binge eating bloated him nearly everyday.

Their now shared room grew into a mess of trash and pizza boxes and used underwear lying around. The smell was that of eggy, cheesy farts and onion-scented sweat and grease. But they were a happy pair of chubby gassy nerds. This was the perfect life for Tony.

Agent Fisher reports on his roommate's transformative descent into being a father figure straight from a 90's sitcom as he tries to pretend he's not into it.

Dad and Bear Tf's are always some of my favorites to write and this one is no different! Took the flavor but not the style of a certain foundation! Enjoy this daddification from the POV of a desperate agent who has failed his station and by the end suffers the same transformative consequences. -Occam

This is a report from Special Agent Fisher on a previously unidentified anomalous artifact. Delivered to my apartment while I was away on an expedition, a VHS tape labeled Dad’s Den was opened and watched by my friend and roommate who, unaware he should resist, succumbed to its effects and in time was replaced by what can only be described as a stereotypical dad. As if he were straight out of the video tape he couldn’t help but watch.

Given I was on foundation business during the encounter and have already suffered through the loss of my dear friend Clayton, I would request leniency. I submit this thorough report of the VHS tapes effects as evidence and when guaranteed both my personal safety and continued employment I will deliver both the video footage and the anomalous artifact in question.

I understand how this will be perceived but know I only hold the foundation’s best interests at heart. This is simply not my fault and I refuse to be demoted due to a situation out of my hands that I have already suffered beyond measure from. If anything I deserve a promotion for resisting the tape’s allure and effects, though at present I simply want guaranteed and continued safety for Clayton and myself. 

Please read the following account of what I have dubbed AA-0646: ‘The Fatherly Film’ before coming to any decisions.