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Dillon had always hated his body, his pasty weak white body. He wanted to be like his friends, like Winston with his tall broad ebony muscles. He wanted to be like the black studs he hung out with, he wanted to be able to bed gorgeous guys and girls.

His wish had taken him to New Orleans, it was Winston who’d got him the meeting with the Voodoo Priestess. Turned out that Winston’s grandfather had been a white guy who’d fell in love with a young black girl. They weren’t allowed to marry, but one trip to the Priestess and grandad was turned into a horse hung African god.

That’s what Dillon wanted and Winston was all for it. He liked Dillon, but having to defend the little white guy was getting boring, plus a new wing man couldn’t hurt.

The meeting was simple enough, all Dillon had to do was drink some potion, made from stuff that Dillon didn’t want to hear about, and then he had to sit back and let his deepest desires shape his body into the black hunk he wanted to be.

The transformation started off just how Dillon wanted, he rocketed upwards, his body well over 6ft tall now. His muscles ballooned, his lats flaring out and his shoulder building into cannon balls of tight muscle. Dillon shook with excitement as his skin turned into a deep black, his lips puffing out and his blond hair retracting into his skull. His moans grew deep and his hands cracked into massive mitts. The briefs he wore struggled to contain the enlarging black bull cock, his balls swollen with potent seed.

Then it went downhill, his mind clouded and thoughts of testing out his new cock faded. His briefs groaned as his muscle ass bloated into a giant ghetto booty. The lust he had for big black men must of screwed up the results, Dillon thought before the growing bimbo in him took over.

🔗09/11/17🔗Beef in the kitchen!🔗