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Me and my boyfriend both 28 nerdy twinks, started going to this new gym that opened a week ago or so, after a couple of trips there I realized that it was used only by this huge manly hunks that were clearly straight, so I was genuinely surprised when one of them came up to my boyfriend started spotting him. When we came back home I asked about it and he said that he was just a high school straight friend, like that doesn't make sense we were only friends with gay guys just like us, yeah he did look like one of our close friends but that can't be he was the most flamboyant open gay guy I ever met. I'm happy for him though, he made a friend at the gym and he is meeting him tomorrow for whatever reason.

You were supposed to meet up with your boyfriend at the gym after he met up with his old friend, but for some reason you couldn't seem to find him. You were supposed to workout with him today, as you had been for the last week, but since he wasn't picking up the phone you ended up having to workout alone. You were supposed to just do cardio today, but after running into a very attractive, strangely familiar jock, you ended up lifting weights with him. You were supposed to be looking for your boyfriend, or exercising, or something, but instead you were lifting weights and talking to this random, beefy jock about… something. You couldn't quite focus on the words. You were supposed to be struggling with the weights, but something about working out with this guy made it feel… weirdly easy. That was why you had been working out with him so much lately afterall. You were supposed to meet up with your boyfriend… but you had been single for a while, hadn't you? And… why did the idea of dating a guy feel… gross? For some reason as you lifted the weights, your biceps flexing as you did, you felt your mind turn to girls, like the blonde bitches you used to date back in highscool… You were supposed to be scrawny, but you felt powerful. Muscular. Buff. You were supposed to be gay, but all you could think about was finding a pussy to fuck and tits to grope. You were supposed to have a boyfriend, but instead you had a life long bro who made you feel like a real fucking man. You were supposed to resist… but being a dumb, straight, hunky gym bro felt so fucking good.

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tf me? I dont like working out showing off drinking smoking partying hooking up but thats what it takes to be cool and I do want to be cool.

Don't like working out, showing off, drinking, smoking and partying? Bro, those 5 things make up your entire fucking life! Your head feels a bit fuzzy, and had ever since the DJ put on that awesome song what had been ringing in your ears all night, but you were certain you were a buff, cocky partier, who lived to fuck and get drunk. just like everyone else at the club!

---

Man I really should start going to the gym, but I need a partner to both get me and going regularly. I wish me and my boyfriend could be like those hunky gym bros I see in all the pictures online.

The good news is that you and your boyfriend are now regular gym goers, with hunky muscles that most men would kill to have. The bad news is that you're not boyfriends anymore. You still have sex, but your dumb jock brains say thats just "bros helping bros" and you're just as likely to be helping your bro get laid by a bimbo as you are to be the one sucking him off. You wanted to be like those hunky gym bros, and it looks like you got your wish. Good luck~

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My boyfriend (a strict top) has been dropping hints about him been very curious has experiencing our sex life has a bottom. Could you swap our bodies and roles so i can make his wish come true?

So, i seems like there may have been a hiccup. I was able to switch your bodies… but now there are two of your body walking around, both controlled by your boyfriend, well you're in control of your boyfriends beefy body. I'm really sorry, and I'm super embarrassed by this whole mess… but on the bright side, you do get to experience life as a top, with not one but two submissive bottoms ready and willing to take your cock. So, maybe this is less of a mistake and more of a happy accident!

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Do you tf other people? I don't need any tf… I'm a buff Latino stud that could get any guy I want. It's my twerpy boyfriend. He's just such a scrawny vanilla twink and taking him places is getting embarassing. I got him to go to the gym but its not doing shit for him. I deserve better… hopefully you know what to do to fix it.

To anser your question, Yes, I do tf other people! However… I'm not going to tf anyone for you. Calling your boyfriend twerpy, saying he's embarrassing, saying you "deserve better." I've met a lot of selfish people during all this, but after seeing how sweet your boyfriend is, and how awful you are to him, I think its time you get exactly what you deserve~

The good news is your boyfriend is going to become the beefy, macho, sexy latino stud you want him to be, someone that you won't be embarrassed to be seen with. The better news is that you aren't going to be his boyfriend anymore, you're his goddamn bitch. Don't get me wrong, he still loves you just as deeply as before, it's just that the new you is so whipped for him that you'll let him do just about anything to you.

You're not the buff latin stud whose bossing around his sweet little boyfriend anymore. Now you're the sweet submissive one for your studly man, although you're lucky enough that the man you're submissive for loves you. Personally I think thats better than what you deserve… but hey, your boyfriends happy with it.

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I've got a pretty nice body, but my efforts at the gym have plateaued lately. I wish my skinny nerd roommate would transform into muscled gym bro and he'd love telling me what to do and I'd love doing what he says. That way he can push me at the gym and I can break this plateau! That's obviously what he'd tell me to do, right?

Looks like you got exactly what you want! Your roommate is now an older, muscular coach who can help you break through that plateau with ease. You had to admit, you didn't expect his workout plan to include you giving so many blowjobs, but hey, its working!

---

"Become a Father, Today!" Read the poster on the window of a store called "Father Maker"

One day the store had mysteriously opened up, promising anyone to be ripe and ready to be a father. Wade, who was reading the aforementioned poster thought it was some therapy thing, but the pictures of pretty dilfs on other posters enticed him to atleast... go inside and see what happens. Hey who knows, maybe he'll be a dilf one day. Not that Wade had any plans of being a father.

Wade entered the store and found a very clean building with a male receptionist typing away at a monitor. Wade walks over to him and says hello.

"Ah, welcome welcome. You want to be a father?"

Wade shakes his head, he's just curious about the place.

"I see... well, we offer a high tech machine that takes answers from a provided survey and gives exactly what you need to be a perfect father. It's pretty cool!"

Wade was amazed at the technical marvel that was just described to him, he had to try it now. Wade said as much to the receptionist.

"Alright, perfect. We've been providing consultations since we just opened so don't worry about payment just head to the hallway on the right and you'll see the machine. Enjoy!" Wade nodded and followed the receptionist instructions.

After some walking, Wade saw the device in the distance and got visibly excited. Wade increased his pace until right in front of the machine. The door automatically opened and Wade walked in. The inside looked very futuristic with a screen installed on a part of the wall

"HELLO. WELCOME TO THE FATHER MAKER. PLEASE FILL OUT THE PROVIDED SURVEY ON THE SCREEN"

The first question popped up and Wade began to answer the questions one by one. The questions asked were mudane and didn't feel related to fatherhood, but Dave guessed the algorithm was super smart.

"SURVEY COMPLETE. THANK YOU. NOW COMPUTING SUGGESTIONS"

Dave stood and waited for a couple minutes until something happened

"COMPUTING. COMPUTING. COMPUTING"

"COMPUTING..." "COMPUTING COMPLETE. NOW ROLLING OUT SUGGESTIONS"

The moment of truth. Wade was dying to know what the machine would say.

"SUGGESTION 1: HAVE BIG STRONG MUSCLES. A FATHER IS STRONG AND NEEDS TO BE RELIABLE FOR THEIR CHILD."

Once the robotic voice began to speak, Wade suddenly felt really hot, his clothes felt tighter than he remembered. Wade was growing. The machine was doing something to Wade. Every muscle Wade had was packing on the beef. First the oh so juicy pecs that pushed out and filled. Wade's nipples also perked up. Any fat was eliminated on Wade's frame as a eight pack popped into the crevices. Then Wade's lats and back muscles widened out. Both of Wade's arm thickened and became large trunks with large biceps and triceps and big meaty hands. Wade's neck widened as his traps bulged into mini mountains. Wade's legs became enlarged, with thighs so wide they were almost touching one another. On the other end, Wade's flat ass grew immensely into a noticeable bouncy behind. The final touch was Wade's feet growing a few sizes. With that final growth, all of Wade's clothes ripped off.

The adrenaline of the transformation left Wade dazed, unable to speak or react. All he could feel was pure euphoric strength. That left the machine to keep going

"SUGGESTION 2: A STRONG FATHER MUST HAVE A STRONG FACE SO THAT NO ONE MESSES WITH THEM."

Wade's face reacted immediately, morphing into an older masculine look . A beard began to form connecting to his hair, which stylized into something flat and basic but still very manly.

"SUGGESTION 3: HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WIFE. A FATHER MUST HAVE A LOVELY WIFE."

Flashes of memories entered Wade's mind. The image of a woman forming. bit by bit, Wade remembers meeting this woman, falling in love with this woman, and eventually marrying this woman. His... Wife. His wife Mary. Just thinking about Mary made Wade's groin stir. So much so, his average sized dick began to elongate into a thick nine inch beer can ready for anything. Such as...

"SUGGESTION 4: HAVE A BEAUTIFUL CHILD. A CHILD IS A TRUE SIGN OF FATHERHOOD."

Wade remembers the day fondly. Of Mary giving birth to her beautiful baby girl, Lily. Wade felt so proud to have a child. A child to continue his legacy and to teach and learn about the world. Wade loved being a father. Just thinking about his wife and his child and his muscles and his looks and his everything. Wade felt ready to burst. Wade subconsciously used one of his mitt hands to grab his dick and started to pump, the machine he was inside not even a thought to him. He kept going, closer and closer to climax, when the machine spoke one more time

"SUGGESTION 5: CUM INTO YOUR NEW LIFE AS A FATHER"

Wade released and everything went white. When Wade opened his eyes again, he was in the middle of a gym, wearing a cross necklace, a tank top and shorts surrounded by some of his buds. Oh right, he was just about to workout. Wade fidgeted his necklace reminding himself of his faith in god and his beautiful wife and child.

"Earth to Wade, You there?" One of the guys chimed.

"Oh, yeah, sorry was just thinking about my wife and child!" Wade explained to the group.

"Always thinkin' about them, huh?"

"Of course, they're everything to me! But enough chitchat let's get to work!"

Everyone else nodded and all got up from their resting spots doing various stretches, Wade included. it was time to get the pump on!

Wade began the workout routine he had refined over the years like clockwork. From chest to shoulders to arms and more. This is what Wade loved doing. Whenever Wade felt like he couldn't finish his rep, he thought of his wife and child to get through and finish it. He loved them so much. Being a father was his true calling alongside being a bodybuilder.

Many hours passed and the pump today was extraordinary. Wade's chest felt just a bit bigger and the bodybuilder reveled in that fact with a flex in the mirror. Wait till his wife sees this!

It was time to change and rest returning to his wife and child, one of the best things to come home to.

Years passed since the transformation and Wade had gotten even bigger. Many competitions entered, some won, some lost, but nothing ever brought him down. Thanks to the wife and child by his side. He really become a true father.

You know I have a lot of depression and anxiety both about the world and my life . I sure wish I had an easy and carefree life where I didn’t have any worries and couldn’t think at all.

Huhuhu, yeah bro. I don't get what those big words you said at the beginning are, but having it easy and carefree is where its at! Who wants to think about sad shit when you can be young, dumb, and full of cum?! Huhuhuhu Fuck yeah bro.

---

Saw a shooting star and just wish I could be a confident strong man's man. My siblings see me as a wuss and all the guys at my college walk all over me. I just wish for a change

It’s time to thank your lucky stars because it looks like your wish came true! You’re not sure how it happened, but the day after you made that wish, you woke up in the body of a muscular, macho, manly man of a man! Your younger brothers, who used to mock you, now look up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and the college jocks who used to bully you now follow you with a mindless, feverish loyalty. It seems your wish to be a “man’s man” may have been taken a little to literally, because you are definitely gay now, but on the bright side you have twinks literally throwing themselves at you, so you’re getting a lot more tail than before

---

I love my boyfriend so much he is so sensible and so nerdy and so cute, so when he was forced to move out into his straight dumb jock big brother's frat house, I was very sad. What's worse is that he moved out last week and he hasn't replied since he arrived there, I hope they are getting along and he is not getting bullied. Should I visit?

You can’t seem to find your boyfriend anywhere! It’s been a week and you haven’t heard anything from him since he moved into his brothers frat house. You went over to visit, but his brother said he hadn’t seen him for a while. Or, brothers, I should say. You had no idea that your boyfriend’s older brother Chad had a twin named Brad, but your boyfriend never liked to talk about his family, so that wasn’t that surprising. Chad and Brad were surprisingly nice too. They saw how depressed you were and invited you to drink with them. It’s good beer too. Makes you feel all warm and dizzy inside… makes you forget your troubles… make you forget…. Forget….

Huhuhuhuhu

---

Me and my husband just bought an amazing house that we somehow managed to afford, just when we were unpacking, the hottest suburban preppy muscle daddy and his gorgeous hunky preppy son appeared at our door welcoming us and offering some help, so while we are doing stuff the son is really excited for some reason to help my husband while I’m with the dad talking which is weird because it would be the other way around as I’m the younger and more chaotic of the couple.

You weren't expecting the rich hunk next door and his frat boy son to suddenly burst in on you and your husband well you were unpacking, but you figured that maybe this was one of those neighborhoods where people felt comfortable entering someone elses house. You had always lived in cities, where that kind of behavior would get someone shot, but you knew that some more traditional towns worked like that, and Befton was definitely a more traditional town. All your friends back in the city said the guys in Befton, or as they jokingly called it Beef-Ton, were big, rich, traditional, and homophobic, so you had been somewhat worried that the two muscular strangers who had come over were going to run you out of town or something, but they were surprisingly nice. The frat boy, whose name you learned was Sterling, quickly got into a conversation with your boyfriend, who smiled politely as the jock talked about the upcoming football season, well you and his dad, Preston, got to know each other.

As the two of you talked, you could feel your attention drift off. You didn't want to be rude, but you couldn't keep your eyes off Preston. His expensive, showy clothing, his perfect tan, his toned muscles…. something about them spoke to you. Something about him, about his pressence, made you feel… wrong. Like you were wrong. You weren't supposed to be like you had always been. You had to be… like him. You felt your body tense as lean muscles appeared across your body, pushing against the fine fabric of an expensive polo you hadn't been wearing before. You grinned at Preston, a charming, plastic grin that felt so perfect on your now flawless face, before looking out the window. One of the reasons you had moved to Befton was the beautiful beaches, and it looked like your son Ambrose and his new friend were already enjoying the sun. You knew he'd fit right in at his new college. Everyone who moved into Befton fit was a perfect fit after all. Everything was perfect. it had to be.

---

Some days like this I wish I humored order and structure to my life so I could become not only successful but powerful and elite. I also hate how alone I am feeling lately and would love to be surrounded by other people who not only enjoyed my company but could help make me the best me I could be. I just recently got an ad in the mail for Preppy-Tory Academy that basically promised it can help make friends and fix my broken life I just attend one of their seminars. I really hope they can help me become my best self.

Welcome to Preppy-Tory Academy, a specialized school for turning regular joe-shmoes into true elites. See, these days the read men of the world are harder to find than ever, so instead of trying to hang on to the few true elites in the world, we just make more! Soon you'll have rippling muscles, a cocky smirk, and expensive clothing you only wear to show off your sculpted body and audacious wealth. Welcome to a life of looking down on people and partying with your fellow beautiful rich people. I'm sure you'll love it

I got a coupon for a free haircut at this really high rated barbershop. However when I got here it turned out to be all black barbershop. Should I still get my free haircut?

Of course! A free haircut is a free haircut! So what if everyone else in the entire barber shop is muscular black man who looks like ebony gods next to your pale scrawny body? I'm sure once you spend a little time in the barber shop, talking to them, you'll discover you have more in common than you think. In fact, I bet you'll get along great. You'll relax as the haircut goes on, and realize you actually love this place. I mean, why wouldn't you? Its full of manly, muscular black men just like yourself! Plus, they give out some great haircuts. thats why you've been using them for so long after all!

---

I have a crush on a really hot Latino teacher that also a coach. He completely out of shape and past his prime. He seems to by self conscious of his body as he used to be the shining example of masculine. So I decided to secretly help him by sneaking some untested protein powder from the school lab into his overly creamy and sugary coffee. Although I wonder if his sedentary lifestyle might skews the results.

Man, it looks like your teacher really was a complete stud before he let himself go. His build isn't as cut as he was before, but he makes up with it in pure beef. The protein powder was an all around success… … with a few side effects. You're not sure if it was the creamy coffee, or his sweet heavy lifestyle in general, but his pec have become, well, literally milky. Addictively so too. You can't help but suck and kiss and worship his pecs as you drink the sweet nectar from them… yeah, it was definitely an all around success

---

My bfs mom never really liked me or even the idea of his son being gay, but when we came to visit her she was super nice to me, its like she forgot she hated me. Weirdly though, she is very keen on making us both go to this new church that appeared out of nowhere on the town and became very popular. We are both not religious at all or really interested in that stuff, idk what to do

Why would your boyfriends Best friends mom hate you? She practically raised you! You and your best bro met at college at kindergarten, and bonded over coming from religious homes peewee football. You had been inseparable since, becoming lovers Brothers in all but blood. Your own parents being asshole homophobes being godless druggies, his family sort of took you in, to the point you even called his parents mom and dad. You grew up playing with your bro, learning to workout from your dad, and getting fed great, nutritious meals by your sweet mom. By the time you two hit highschool you were not supposed to be like this broad shouldered studs, who ruled the school, dominated at football, and had girls crawling at your feet. Of course a good, god fearing man like you would neeeever sleep with some loose woman. And if you did, well, that was because you're gay. You're gay! Please remember her fault for tempting you. You're a red blooded american man after all, you have to have some fun. One day you and your best bro will find wives, settle down, and raise strapping young boys just like you, but if you Let me out! Please, I can't keep holdin- hooked up with some slut after church, well, that was just boys being boys. Just you and your bro being trapped forever The studly christen hunks you've always been

---

My boyfriend and I were just taking a walk when we saw this new coffee shop called Macho Mocca, after reading the funny name of the shop I started getting really thirsty and craving some macha latte or something like that so we both bought a drink. It feels weird being inside a place full of douchey straight muscle hunks to be honest but why would i care when i have the most handsome man as a boyfriend.

Sup bros, welcome to Macho Mocca! We got all kinds of drinks, all designed for maximum masculinity! Since it's your first time here, let me give you one on the house! You look like a DILF Doppio for you, and a frat boy frappe for your… friend.

Tastes good right? Stoked you guys like it. With the gym right next door, we get a ton of muscular bros like you coming over to get a pickup after a good workout. Plus, I gotta friend who sells some gear in the back, haha.

Anyways, hope you and your son have a great day. Always good to see a someones teaching the next generation how to be a real man. Someones got to after all.

---

Im a 25 gay artist that makes paintings criticising the actual political climate and the problems with conservatives, my father really doesnt like that as he is trying to become the mayor of our city so he basically forced me to go to a summer camp to "man up" and I hate this so much and I'm so uncomfortable, at least theres another gay guy like me here so I don't feel as alone as I thought I'd be. I want this to end so bad.

Your father decided he doesn’t need a gay, environmentalist, whiny little bitch for a son, not if he’s going to get elected. He needs someone he can show off like a trophy, a real man he can use to enhance his image, someone worthy of being associated with him. This camp, the one he forced you to go to with the threat of cutting you out of his life forever, would do just that. You won’t remember much of it. By the end the 3 months of camp will be a blur of working out, mental conditioning videos, and sex with the biggest tittied bimbos you’d ever seen. By the end of the summer, you won’t be a fag anymore. You’ll be the one laughing at the new batch of losers as they get sent to camp, knowing that soon they’d be rewritten entirely. The one wingmaning your new bro with every hot girl you see

Now you’re exactly what your father wanted. A perfect golden boy who can charm the public and make the female voters weak in the knees. The perfect way to increase his power, the perfect heir to a throne.

---

I’ve always loved spy movies like the Bourne series or Mission Impossible. Is there a way to make me a hot sexy secret agent like them?

In this case, I don't even have to know much. the [REDACTED] Agency is always looking for new agents, and after a few… adjustments, you'll be the perfect spy. Equally adept at fighting, espionage, and seducing your targets. Have fun being the worlds manliest spy!~

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So… Just thought I'd start streaming stuff online and get a good community built for me to enjoy ya know? Drawing and gaming and all that cool streamer, right chat? Eh? Filter extension to let me be someone else on stream, and there's settings on it? Might as well make a splash for a first impression so I ticked the Jock and Biker options and let the camera roll..

"Sup Chat! Welcome to the Alpha Zone! Today I'm gonna be showing you guys how to get bitches and twinks weak in the knees with only your body and your badass self~"

---

Heya. So I've been with a friend today and we made up a bet: depending on who won the world cup today, we would transform into someone of that Nationality. I was rooting for Argentina and when if they lost i would become a spaniard. My friend pinned me down on the floor and forced me to drink a mysterious liquid, am I going to be ok?… and why does he look so hot all of a sudden?

It turns out, your friend was far more invested in that bet than he ever admitted. You're a Spaniard alright (Congrats to Spain for the win!) But you're also gay, slutty, and completely in love with your former best friend. If it helps, your friend was probably going to make you drink the potion no matter what. but hey, at least you got some muscles and a boyfriend out of the deal

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My bf and I got invited to a "special party" as the very cute guy who invited us said in a town called Maxford for whatever reason it is but we love partying so whatever. Anyways, I normally take a while to get prepared so my bf went before me to see what it has to offer but its been a while since he responded, Im sure he is just having some fun waiting for me.

You groaned as you looked at your phone. Another weird, douchey text from some dumb jock whose number had somehow gotten mixed up with your boyfriends. You had to wonder if someone at the party had taken his phone and was sending this stuff as a prank. You just hoped your boyfriend was ok, since he had a habit of getting a little too drunk at these things. Hopefully he-

-was already chatting up some primo pussy. Your bro might be a sloppy drunk who was blowing up your phone, but goddamn he was a good wingman. By the end of the night, both of you were gonna have bitches riding your cocks, you just knew it.

---

I got bored one day and saw a big alpha male dude bullying some hairy overweight dude. I decided to “mind my own business” by walking past by and swipe data cards from both men. Inserting both card in my phone, I decided to take all the bully size, muscle and masculinity and compressed into a file then send to the other guy. It’s fun seeing the “alpha” completely confused as his clothes fall off and he the same height as the man he bully. Now the real fun begins when I unzip the file into the hairy overweight dude.

I have literally no idea how you were able to use these guys phones to literally hack their reality, but I have to admit, I love seeing some muscle stealing justice out there. I bet that formerly overweight guy is going to be very grateful~

---

You made me a good dad one time so I’m wondering what I would be like as a douchey dead beat dad instead.

You actually want to be a bad dad? I know variety is the spice of life, but I feel kind of bad for the kids involved. Guess I can always turn you back later, or give them a different dad. So, let’s get into this!

Welcome to the new you. You’re beefy, crude, and a total douchebag. The kind of guy who will give a girl the most amazing, sex filled night of her life, and the kick her out in the morning. It’s honestly a shock you’ve only managed to knock up three girls, but I guess the number doesn’t matter since you’re not in their lives anyways. After all, why would you wanna be a dad when you can be a fucking daddy?~

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My bf is transparently still hung up on his ex, and it's hard to blame them. I'm a skinny mid-30s blonde guy and they are both outgoing in-shape hunks… were it not that one is Latino and the other Asian you'd easily believe they are brothers. Hell I'd be hung up on my ex if he looked like either of them. Still, it sucks to be me in all this. Can you help me out?

So, the bad news is that your boyfriend did get back together with his ex. The good news is that so did you. Your new muscles and cock make you so horny your boyfriend can’t handle it all on your own, so now you’re all in a polycule. Have fun having the body of a god and two boyfriends who you love beyond belief!

---

Marc and his boyfriend Alex had been so excited for this holiday. A relaxing week in the sun, plenty of time by the pool, and lots of private time together. They booked the “Lads Holiday Package” because it was the cheapest all-inclusive option and they were on a tight budget.

They had no idea what they were getting into.

The moment they checked in at the resort desk, the receptionist gave them both a big grin and scanned their booking.

“Welcome to the Lads Holiday Package, boys! Enjoy your transformation.”

Before they could ask what he meant, a warm wave washed over both of them.

Their bodies changed first. Muscles swelled and hardened. Their chests pushed out into thick, defined pecs, abs carved themselves in, arms and shoulders grew bigger and stronger. Both of them turned into the perfect, athletic lads.

Then came the mental shift.

Their memories of being a gay couple blurred and rewrote themselves. Dates, anniversaries, and intimate nights together were replaced with gym sessions, footy matches, pulling girls, and getting pissed with the lads. Their attraction to each other vanished, replaced by a strong, straight-bro bond.

By the time the changes finished, they were no longer a gay couple, they were two cocky, straight lads ready to destroy the holiday.

The week that followed was pure chaos and the best time of their lives.

Mornings were spent in the gym flexing and lifting heavy. Afternoons meant shirtless pool days, getting pissed, playing loud music, and chatting up girls. Evenings were even more wild, hitting the local bars on the strip, pulling fit girls, shagging them in the toilet, and high-fiving each other the next morning while swapping stories. They felt unstoppable.

On the last night, as they sat on the beach with beers in hand, Alex slapped Marc on the back.

“Best holiday ever. We need to book this package again next year.”

Marc grinned. “100%. Lads on tour forever.”

When they checked out the next morning, the same receptionist smiled knowingly and scanned their room keys.

“Ending the Lads Holiday Package now. Safe travels, gentlemen.”

Another warm wave hit them.

The reversal was gentler this time. They were back to their original selves, their memories and orientations shifted back. The straight-lad mindset faded, replaced by their original personalities and love for each other.

Marc blinked, suddenly looking at Alex with familiar affection. Alex looked back at him, eyes softening as the realization hit.

“…Did we just spend a week as straight lads?” Marc asked, half-laughing.

Alex grinned, pulling him in for a kiss right there in the lobby.

“Yeah. And it was fucking hilarious. I can’t believe how much fun we had pulling girls and acting like complete tools.”

They both laughed, still buzzing from the experience.

As they left the resort, Marc turned to Alex.

“So… same package again next year?”

Alex squeezed his hand, smirking.

And how’s that fit for ya?

Nice, man… very nice..

Yeeaah I figured you’d be happy in a suit like this. Damn, get a feel of those tits. How’d you find a guy like this anyways?

Aahhh, it’s… It’s complicated..

Let me guess… Personal trainer neighbor? You were sold when you watched him mow the grass?

Worse…

Ooh, one-night-stand? Couldn’t get rid of the memory of worshiping this huge bod all night?

Worse…

No… family?

… Brother..

Noooo shit, dude... Hah! I was gonna say, you two bear a striking resemblance.

From another mother... but, yeah..

Can’t blame you, bro! Not with guns like this..

Mmppff… fuck, these feel insane. No wonder he’s always flexing in the mirror.

Yeeaah, man… get a whiff of ya too.. woof!

Ha! Stooop, dude… I’m getting hard!.. feels.. huh, feels weird…

Oh! Let me help you there… annnd..

AA-OOoooooohh, fuck!

Yeah, man, you can feel that meat now, huh?

UUunngg, it’s like I slipped into his cock like a sleeve, and I felt me fuckin.. explode into his size! Damn I’m packing..

You’re acclimating very well!

Yeah, man.. I’ve wanted to do this for fuckin ever… He won the genetic lottery, I don’t know what happened with me, heh..

Stoooop, man, you were already cute! But now?… Mmff, what a unit…

Shit yeah, bro, I can feel how much you’re into this! You got—… Damn, when’d you lose your drawers?

As soon as I realized I needed to feel my meat up against this cake.

RRNngh, goddamn you’re.. you’re thick… greedy fucker aren’t you?

You have no clue. I just wanna feel all of you, dude. In fact, I might just have to try you on myself.

Uuooghh, fuck you’re so deep, bro! I can feel—…

Feel me thrusting up into your cock, right? FUCK you’re big! Ooh, you’re gonna love this…

G-guuoh my god! Shit you gotta tight grip!!

That’s right, man, flex harder for me!

I—UUGH—OOUUhhh…

Theeerree you go, dude, keep sliding in, mmmfff… let’s get, uunnhh, fuckin’… huuuuge…

Aauuhh, fuuuuckk dude, s-s-soooooo BIIIIG…. MMMPFFF yeah bro, sss-streeetch us OOoouut, gimme—gim—UUUHH—FFUUOOHHH FFFUCK!!

Oohh—Uuoohh—Huuhh… Hoooo, WOW. Hoomygod, fuck what a mmesssss… Jesus Christ, man, I can’t believe it took all that to tap me out. But fuck get a look at us!

Look at these… guns as big as my head… And these.. mmff, these titsssss, yeeeow! Damn I gotta be 280 at least, and… god, I’m gonna choke some motherfuckers with this thing. Hah! Almost hurts to swing around.

Alright dude, I’ll let you go your own way, but first we’re gonna have a weekend together that’ll change your fuckin’ life. Hell, you might come crawling back to have me to slip you on like a condom on the regular… All my other clients do.

Strap in, bro, this is gonna be fun.

The entire table gulped audibly as Adrian handed them the character sheets. Even though they didn’t know about the magic, something about the sheets felt weird to them. However that feeling was quick to pass as the excitement of creating new characters took over.

Noah went first, basically vibrating as he grabbed the dice.

“Okay,” he said, grinning nervously. “I’m doing it. Full commitment. Human barbarian.”

Ethan burst out laughing immediately.

“You? A barbarian?”

“I can play against type!”

“You look like you lose fights against folding chairs.”

Noah flipped him off, but blushed slightly, looking at Adrian for the okay to start the character creation.

“Roll in order.”, Adrian nodded softly, “Strength first.”

The D20 clattered against the old wooden table, everyone’s eyes drawn to the shiny piece of plastic.

18

For a second nothing happened. And suddenly Noah inhaled sharply as he sat upright   in his chair, his posture suddenly remarkably straight.

Underneath his hoodie his shoulders shot out to the sides as meat piled onto his frame, the fabric just barely adjusting in time to not get completely shredded under the pressure of the frail nerd’s inflation. His forearms thickened, his biceps bringing the sleeves devastatingly close to breaking point, veins pushing out against his skin. His hands flexing as they grew to the size of dinner plates, powerful and manly. Then his chest expanded, pulling the fabric already struggling with his cannonball arms tightly against his enormous pecs.

The chair creaked.

“Oh my God,” Oliver whispered.

Noah lurched upward as another inch—then another—was added to his height. His knees pressed awkwardly against the underside of the table before the transformation settled. Not monstrous. Not absurd. Just overwhelmingly athletic. Broad. Powerful.

Like a heavyweight fighter hidden beneath a nerd’s clothing.

And then reality adjusted.

The others blinked.

New memories appeared, the image of tiny Noah disappearing like ice under the midday sun, the awkward ginger runt replaced with the overwhelmingly manly mountain of muscle who acted like a tiny nerd. Only Adrian retained his old memories, smiling faintly at the awkward way the towering Barbarian warrior sat there, squeezing his enormous bulk at the table and still trying and failing to take up less space than his intensely huge frame demanded.

Noah himself looked oddly surprised by his new size, carefully balling and relaxing his fists a couple of times, almost seeming unsettled by the size of his own muscles. Only the sound of Adrian’s smooth voice ripped the Barbarian-sized nerd out of his stupor.

“Dexterity.”

Noah nodded and rolled again.

8

The change was subtler this time. 

His posture and movement looked less precise, less graceful. It really appeared like the low roll on Dexterity had grounded the mountain sized geek somewhat. His posture now seemed more confident and solid, heavier even, his behaviour now showing less nervous and anxious shifting. Like someone who relied on power over grace.

A water bottle slipped from his grasp a second later.

“Jesus, dude.”, Ethan laughed, “I still can’t get over the fact that a guy that’s built like a linebacker has finally dipped his toe into playing a Barbarian after all these years. Speaking of which, are you still hellbent on getting on the football team? Coach must be getting fed up with your clumsy ass constantly trying out.” 

Noah just blushed, his ears nearly as ginger as his hair, which he now hid under a cap of the local football team. With his clumsiness he didn’t make for the best player, but he’d tried enough times to like the sport.

Adrian watched from behind his DM screen as reality settled around Noah, curiously observing the mental changes that had begun around the edges. Noah was still Noah … just more.

“Constitution.”, Adrian prompted.

Noah rolled.

The die bounced once. Twice.

19

The effects hit like a freight train this time.

Noah gasped as his frame became denser. Not bigger per se, but more sharply defined, his chest swelling against the fabric and pulling it tight against his mid section, the outline of 6 brick sized abs clearly visible. Even his neck thickened, a prominent Adam's apple pushing into existence and lowering the Barbarian’s voice from a soft tenor to a booming bass.

Even a beard forced itself into existence against his more masculine lantern jaw. Not the teenage scruff he had been able to grow before, but a thick manly beard that looked utterly right on his rugged face.

Noah looked amazing. Not delicate. Not pretty-boy handsome. Dangerously handsome. Like some mythological northern warrior accidentally dropped into a college apartment.

“Hell yeah,”, the incredibly sexy lumberjack said, once again shocking his friends with the foghorn boom of his voice, “Nineteen Con.”

The other three players just nodded. Even sitting down, Noah dominated the room physically now. His shoulders stretched the seams of his hoodie so badly he eventually peeled it off entirely, revealing a black tank top straining across an absurdly broad chest and thick, powerful arms.

The Barbarian shifted in his seat, immediately drawing attention to another result of his roll.

“Dude, can’t you wear underwear for once to DnD? Your sweatpants look ridiculous!”, Ethan complained, trying very hard not to stare at the obvious outline of what was running down his left leg. Noah just blushed, trying to make his footlong soft cock somehow less noticeable through his grey sweatpants. And failing miserably.

Like the rest of him the thing sat heavy, thick and huge off the edge of the chair, even the outline of his bull balls being faintly visible through the fabric trying to cover his crotch.

“Talk about Barbarian Constitution.”, Marcus chuckled.

“Shut up,” Noah muttered.

But he sounded more embarrassed in theory than in practice. The growing confidence from his partially locked-in stats kept blunting his old insecurity before it could fully form.

Adrian quietly watched the magic settle again.

“Keep rolling.”, he said, “Intelligence is next.”

Noah, still feeling high from the absolutely monstrous roll on Constitution, enthusiastically threw the die.

5

The change was immediate.

Noah blinked.

Then blinked again.

The sharpness behind his eyes dulled and he relaxed in his seat. The constant anxious overprocessing vanished instantly as his racing thoughts slowed to a crawl. Adrian just grinned. A Barbarian wasn’t meant to be smart after all. He already had the overwhelming physicality, he didn’t need to think too much.

His posture spread wider in the chair.

Heavy.

Certain.

He looked at his friends with a relaxed and easy smile, confident despite his reduced intelligence.

“Dude, you’re literally playing yourself. Huge in body, but not the brightest bulb.”, Ethan chuckled at his simple friend. Noah just grinned in return and threw up his enormous cannonball biceps in a flex. Reality had settled seamlessly around the giant himbo.

Adrian cleared his throat and nodded towards the dice. “Let’s roll Wisdom next.”

Noah rolled.

6

The effect was subtler but somehow more unsettling.

Noah’s eyes softened immediately.

Not weaker physically—far from it—but more suggestible. More trusting. More willing to follow stronger personalities without questioning them deeply. Especially Adrian. Adrian noticed it at once. So did Ethan.

“Earth to Barbarian,” Ethan muttered. “You’re looking at Adrian weirdly again.”

Noah frowned faintly.

“Huh?”

“You keep waiting for him to talk before doing stuff.”

Noah opened his mouth.

Paused.

Then shrugged.

“Guess he’s the DM.”

Simple.

Logical.

Final.

The room laughed.

Only Adrian understood how profound the shift really was.

Noah’s independent critical resistance had just permanently collapsed. Not mindless obedience. Just reduced willpower. Reduced need to question. The barbarian archetype was crystallizing perfectly. While always physically in charge, he liked for others to take the lead, make suggestions and tell him what to do.

And there was still one stat left.

Charisma.

Adrian folded his hands together behind the DM screen and smiled faintly.

“Last roll.”

Noah rolled the die.

It spun across the wood.

Stopped.

15

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Noah smiled and the entire atmosphere of the room shifted instantly. Not magically glowing. Not supernatural mind control. Just… overwhelming presence.

His posture straightened subtly, massive shoulders rolling back with effortless confidence while his expression relaxed into an easy, rugged charm that looked absurdly natural on him. The lazy grin beneath his copper stubble suddenly carried weight behind it. Warmth. Magnetism.

His face redefined itself, becoming even more devastatingly handsome, manly, rugged. Like his entire look had been designed by someone who wanted to show what copious amounts of testosterone would do to a handsome man’s face.

And reality adapted around him. To the rest of the table Noah had always been overwhelmingly charismatic. He could say the most stupid shit and people would still laugh with him, his entire personality just becoming comfort food, easygoing and welcoming, while never losing the raw sex appeal that made people want to suck his cock or get impaled on his meat hammer within 5 minutes of meeting him.

“Guess I’m just charismatic.”, the massive ginger chuckled dumbly.

The line should have sounded ridiculous.

Instead, all three of them laughed immediately.

Even Adrian almost smiled for real.

The magic settled completely.

The transformation finalized.

Noah Tanner—the nervous valedictorian, comic-shop employee, chronic overthinker—was gone.

Or rather…

Reality now insisted he had never existed in that form at all.

Instead, Noah had always been this. A towering, massively muscular ginger barbarian of a man with movie-star ruggedness, absurd stamina, effortless charm, and the simple confidence of someone who had never spent much time doubting himself. A beautiful brute with long wavy copper hair, heavy stubble, broad hands, thick muscle-packed limbs, and a mind optimized less for critical analysis and more for instinct, confidence, and immediate physical certainty.

And according to everyone’s rewritten memories? He had always been the heart of the group. The guy strangers flirted with constantly. The one who won arguments through sheer presence instead of logic. The one who solved problems by kicking doors open.

Noah himself looked down at the completed character sheet and grinned proudly.

“Damn,” he rumbled. “This dude rules.”

“Our resident himbo literally plays himself.”, Ethan rolled his eyes. “Massive super stud football player, massive super stud barbarian. Tomato, tomato.”

“Still taller than you.”, Noah countered and the room burst out laughing.

And Adrian quietly watched the rewritten world stabilize around the completed barbarian.

One player down.

Three to go.

The grimoire beneath the table pulsed warmly against his knee.

Marcus watched Ethan and Noah bicker across the table with growing disbelief. Somehow the atmosphere between the two, which had always been oddly complicated and loaded with tension, had become aggressively flirtatious ever since they started the character creation half an hour ago.

The barbarian lounged back in his chair, massive arms folded across his titanic chest while Ethan leaned against the table beside him, one hip cocked casually, presenting his butt. Their personalities fit together disturbingly well somehow.

“You keep touching my arms.”, Noah rumbled.

“Because they’re like battleship cannons.”

“They’re not…”

“You’re massive!”

Noah grinned at the compliment.

Marcus stared. Oliver stared. The situation wasn’t odd per se. Ethan always flirted with Noah constantly. And of course Noah liked the attention despite himself. But it somehow felt even more intense than usual today.

The only person who remembered otherwise sat calmly behind the DM screen, watching with calm fascination as Ethan absentmindedly rested a hand against Noah’s solid shoulder while reading over his own character sheet. The Barbarian didn’t react. No one but Adrian noticed  Noah slightly leaning into the touch. 

Finally having enough of watching Marcus rolled his eyes. “Okay … my turn..”

“What’re you playing?”, Oliver asked as Marcus nervously readjusted his glasses. 

“Paladin.”

Noah snorted approvingly. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Marcus grinned shyly at the Barbarian’s enthusiasm.

“Big holy knight aesthetic. Heavy armor. Big mace. The works.”

“Fits you weirdly well.”, Ethan admitted, still half draped against Noah’s chair.

Adrian nodded.

The enchanted parchment shimmered, having already instantly accepted the Paladin archetype. Marcus picked up the dice and Adrian nodded at him to roll. “Strength first.”

The die rolled across the wood.

17

“Ha, still stronger than you!”, Noah barked, ignorant of the transformation hitting his black friend.

Marcus groaned slightly as his body surged upwards in the chair, his old heaviness vanishing almost instantly under slabs of dense, heroic muscle. His already wide shoulders becoming even wider, working together with his broadening chest to stretch out his shirt. His poor shirt almost lost the race to adapt, trying to fit the enormous torso that was quickly accentuated by the thick muscle filling out his arms and thighs. His shorts almost exploded off of the new tree trunk legs before adjusting.

Unlike Noah’s enormous rugged Barbarian size, Marcus transformed into something cleaner, something knightly. Not much smaller than the massive ginger mountain of a man that Ethan seemed hellbent on climbing, but somehow having a more heroic feel to it. He wasn’t even much shorter than the towering Barbarian, maybe only an inch or so in difference in height, which only made him look broader.

And as always Ethan the greedy twink looked between the two like he’d won the lottery. Sure he was mainly preoccupied with the rugged Barbarian Noah, but another piece of major eye candy certainly didn’t hurt.

Adrian smiled, loving the direction his magic was taking the party. “Next roll. Dexterity.”

Marcus nodded and rolled again.

The die stopped.

10

This time the transformation didn’t really have an imposing effect. 

Definitely nothing like the Strength roll. Instead Marcus’ movements refined slightly. While almost as huge as Noah, the Paladin’s imposing frame now moved with controlled precision and grace, contrasting the Barbarian’s heavier groundedness nicely. Sure he wasn’t a graceful dancer like Ethan, but he carried himself with disciplined athletic coordination nonetheless.

Like someone who trained for swordsmanship. Or a mace fight for that matter. His posture looked balanced, stable. Confident even, which was especially surprising seeing how he still had his old slightly awkward personality.

Another indicator of that being that his nervous habit of adjusting his glasses still hadn’t changed. Though now he did it with paw like massive hands while Noah laughed at him for having the posture of a huge boy scout.

“Oh shut up, doofus. That just about makes him the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”, Ethan countered playfully punching Noah’s dense shoulder that the elven twink was leaning against. And while he barely felt the punch, the statement made Noah frown.

“Rude.”

“You’re still winning overall.”, Ethan calmed him, rubbing the swollen biceps to calm the beast.

“Good.”, the Barbarian said, looking genuinely pleased. Though that might have been because of the fond, rewarding, almost practiced looking smile Ethan threw him with the compliment.

The physical contact between them kept escalating too. Small things. Casual things. Ethan’s hand on Noah’s forearm while laughing. Noah resting a huge arm across the back of Ethan’s chair. Their knees bumping under the table and staying there.

Neither seemed remotely self-conscious about it anymore. Reality had already rewritten their chemistry into something longstanding and familiar.

Marcus watched them with amusement, “They’re gonna be making out by session three.”

“We’re sitting right here,” Noah pointed out.

Ethan tilted his head.

“Would that bother you?”

Noah opened his mouth.

Paused.

Thought very hard for someone with an Intelligence of five.

“…Not really.”

A statement that made Ethan look very pleased, like a child that had just been promised dessert. Meanwhile Oliver couldn’t help but laugh.

The grimoire pulsed warmly against Adrian’s thigh below the table, prompting him to urge for the next change. “Constitution.”

Marcus rolled and the die settled almost immediately.

19

And just like what had happened to Noah before, the transformation surged through him hard.

His already massive frame thickened further, becoming even denser with powerful muscle, making him look more like a superhuman fantasy hero than an ordinary hunk.

He just radiated vitality now. Not quite the dense enormity of the Barbarian, but rather a beacon of power and life, just a picture perfect valiant Paladin.

One part of him was especially radiating life, a part of him that now threatened to burst through the slowly adapting crotch of his shorts as it was ballooning with size.

Marcus shifted in his seat uncomfortably as his mind quickly acknowledged and accepted the sensation of now being hung like a horse. While Noah and Marcus had both nailed the same insane roll, there were noticeable differences. Like Marcus’ cock being longer and Noah’s being fatter. Or the Paladin being circumcised, unlike the Barbarian. Though the Paladin did end up with generally larger loads by comparison. Just the energy of life running through him helping a lot with that.

“With rolls like that, you guys are gonna make me feel left behind.”, Ethan complained, looking between the two towering hunks, pouting, “This little elf doesn’t have your stamina.”

“At least you’re pretty.”, Noah offered, “And tiny.”

“You like that I’m tiny.”

The Barbarian’s ears reddened slightly again.

Marcus stared between them.

“…You two flirt like people who already share an apartment.”

“With how often I spent the night at his place, we basically do.”, Ethan chuckled, resting a hand on the blushing Noah’s obvious cock bulge through the sweatpants.

“Intelligence.”, Adrian interrupted the bickering, nodding at Marcus to continue.

16

Marcus straightened. Not really physically, but mentally. 

Behind the glasses sitting on his square jawed, masculine face his eyes sharpened, his thought processes becoming faster and more efficient. A lot more things suddenly made sense to him, connections, patterns and concepts coming easier to him.

Reality adjusted around them all, making that a statement that had always been true. While Noah had been the lovable idiot, Marcus was the brilliant brain of the group, though still lovable. His mind was simply so strategic and educated. So much so that he wasn’t teaching beginner’s computer classes in this version of reality. But rather highly advanced courses for seniors. And effortlessly too.

Adrian watched Marcus with a lot of interest. He was becoming downright dangerously perfect. With his towering body, handsome face, sharp intellect, enormous cock and calm but commanding voice he was basically shaping up to become the leader of the group. But the DM just grinned, knowing that a third of the stats hadn’t been rolled yet and things could still go awry.

With a smile and a throw at the elf-Barbarian pairing, which now included Ethan having basically abandoned his seat to sit on Noah’s lap, Adrian prompted the next roll. 

“Wisdom.”

Before rolling, one could almost see Marcus running some quick calculations on his odds. 

3

Marcus’ eyes went wide at the disastrously low roll.

But the transformation hit almost immediately after that and the look of shock morphed into a smile.

Not a thoughtful one.

Not a careful one.

Not a dumb one.

A trusting one. An open one.

His posture relaxed dramatically as tension he didn’t even realize he carried simply… vanished. The strategic sharpness remained intact—his Intelligence stayed exactly where it was—but his skepticism disappeared almost completely. His eyes softened. His need to question things evaporated.

He by no means became dumb. But he lacked caution now. The entire table could suddenly recall story after story of Marcus getting into trouble simply because he was too trusting of people. Especially people he knew and liked. Like if Ethan told him there was a buried treasure outside, Marcus would grab a shovel and start digging. He wasn’t an idiot himbo like Noah. Just really gullible, despite all his intelligence.

Adrian smiled behind the screen, finding the newly crystallized character flaw fitting beautifully with the archetype of the devoted Paladin. It also fit in beautifully with the increasingly touchy pair on the other side of the table.

“Last roll.”, the DM said, “Charisma.”

Marcus nodded obediently.

13

Unlike Ethan who could tell people the sky was red and they’d believe him simply because of his personality being so magnetic, or Noah, who always seemed to be the heart of a party, Marcus’ transformation wasn’t quite as severe.

His charisma manifested as presence. Authority. Warmth. The air around him suddenly saturated with trustworthiness, inspiration and an overwhelming feeling of kindness and safety. He’s become the kind of guy who people wanted to confess to. The kind of guy people wanted to trust.

His face changed too. It lacked the raw ruggedness of the Barbarian, but had a softer look, one that showed he smiled a lot, despite his lantern jaw. His eyes darkened slightly to the colour of hot cocoa, making him permanently look like a very playful golden retriever with how disastrously low his Wisdom throw had been.

“At least that one’s decent.”, Marcus chuckled, the sound relaxing the group, his aura of warmth grounding the intensity of his Barbarian friend.

Adrian watched the character solidify. A gigantic holy knight with immense strength and stamina, sharp intelligence, almost nonexistent skepticism, and overwhelming inspirational charm. Beautiful in a noble, masculine way rather than Noah’s rugged dominance or Ethan’s elegant seductiveness.

“Guess we’re gonna go with an emotional support tank.”, Ethan grinned, knowing full well that that was how their group dynamic had always worked. Though it was fun seeing their real-life dynamic transition into the game and making Marcus a “big lawful puppy” as Noah so eloquently put it.

Adrian’s eyes drifted towards the last player left as the grimoire pulsed warmly beneath the table.

You’re right. You’re certain of it. This whole thing, you are your best friend being invited to a party by a bunch of stereotypical jocks, is definitely a trick. Specifically, those caps and shorts are a trick. Or they're at least a part of one. You can tell by the barely hidden mischievous grin on the face of the frat boy handing these costumes to the both of you that it’s definitely some sort of prank. Maybe itching powder or something? Still, if you or your bestie Jamie turn down the costumes, you can bet that they’ll probably do something worse. The two off you head to the bathroom, whispering to each other as you do 

“I’m not putting on this hat. Baseball caps are so tacky! Only douchebags wear backwards caps like that. Plus they probably put glue in it or something.” You said, scowling slightly as you looked at the unassuming but somehow threatening hat. Jamie giggled slightly next to you “Personally I’m not worried about the cap as much as I am about the shorts. What if they put itching powder or something in there? Or what if they’ve worn them before! So grody!” Jamie said, wincing at the thought of wearing someones used, sweaty shorts. You laughed slightly at the look on his face. Then, like lightning, a thought occurred to you. You grinned at Jamie as you explained.

“You know what? How about we see whose right. You only put on the hat, and I only put on the shorts. We know it's a prank so we might as well have some fun with it. Whoever suffers less, gets a favor from the other. Deal?” You asked. Jamie considered this for a moment, looking uncertain… before grinning 

“Okay hun. Let's do this.” He said. With the bet in place, Jamie handed you one of the pairs of shorts he had been carrying and you headed into the bathroom while he stayed outside to put on one of the caps. You felt a little embarrassed as you stripped off your pants (and shirt because the jocks had insisted every guy be shirtless), and tried not to look at your lithe body in the mirror. You slid the shorts up onto your body… and felt something like lightning shoot through your body. While, not your body. Your legs. Like magic, they began to inflate with a mix of muscle and fat. Your calves looked incredible, your thighs were thick with muscle, your cock grew to obscene proportions, thick and meaty, and best of all was your ass. It could only be described as a bubble butt. Thick and juicy and delicious. From the ass down, you were a Greek god. You’d be incredibly turned on… if you weren’t freaking out. What the heck had just happened? Was this some kind of allergic reaction? You were going to scream for help… when a dull knocking was at the door. Numbly, you opened it up… and found something shocking.

It was Jamie. Or, Jamie’s legs. From the waist down it was obvious he was the same skinny flamboyant gay guy you had gone to the party with. But from the waist up… he was exactly like one of the dumb frat boy jocks who had invited you to this party. The same beefy pecs that you almost wanted to call tits, the same huge biceps, the same thick bodybuilder neck, and the same dumb grin and dull eyes that had nothing but thoughts of muscle and sex behind them. You stuttered as you tried to take in the scene before you “J-Jamie?” You asked in shock. The dumb jock laughed dully, like you had just made a fart joke

“Nah bro, names James. J-bro if you wanna get nasty.” James said, flexing his muscles cockily. 

One of the jocks who had given you guys the costumes, Brock, approached the two of you, a happy grin on his face, that quickly evaporated as he saw what was before him 

“Oh fuck! What did you two do?!”

After a lot of freaking out and accusations – and some inappropriate groping of your ass by James – The three of you were finally able to figure out what happened. You and Jamie were right to think it was a prank, but it was much bigger than either of you had thought. The cap and shorts were supposed to turn you both into the perfect frat boy jocks who would join the frat, but because you two had mixed your clothing and split one set instead of using both, you had both been… half jocked. You got the bottom half, including a muscular ass, legs, and big feet, while Jamie got the top half, including beefy pecs, muscular arms, rippling abs, a chiseled face and a jock's brain. It quickly became apparent there wasn’t any way to turn you back, at least not one the jocks would give you, and they couldn’t transform you any further.

You definitely got the short end of the stick. While James, as he now called himself, didn’t get the leg muscles, muscular ass or the huge cock, he was able to fix most of that through hard work. Jocks love working out, so with his new personality becoming a frat boy completely was almost inevitable. The only thing he couldn’t change was the cock, and as it turns out James was never a slouch in that area to begin with. He wasn’t as big as some of the other jocks, but no one could say he was small. You, however, got the jock libido and a huge, fuckable ass, with none of the showy muscles or charm. Without the jock attitude and work ethic your leg muscles faded pretty quickly. Except for your ass. See, despite the jocks plan not having worked out as they thought it would, they did accept both of you into the frat to try and help you with your changes, and while you struggled with the leg workouts they showed you, you found you loved squats. 

I completely understand man. Ever since I entered this hidden world of transformations, I’ve met countless people like you. People who have spent their entire lives in the background, feeling overlooked and unimportant. The wallflowers of the world. I was one of you guys once, before I started working for my Uncle and found out about this weird hidden world full of magic and technology that can transform people in impossible ways. I’m still a scrawny wallflower when it comes down to it, but after surviving a lot of attempts to transform me, and actually getting transformed a few times, I’ve kind of come to peace with it. Still, I understand where you’re coming from, and if you’re so desperate you’ve turned to magic to try and solve your problems… well, I guess it’s best I help you out, if only so you don’t get involved with someone who will take advantage of you. So, I’m going to help you become exactly what you want. A hyper muscular, cocky as fuck, alpha male full of main character energy. I’m going to transform you into the man you’ve always wanted to be. Or, in this case, I’m going to help you literally grow into one.

If you’re reading this you should have already received the small package I gave you. Inside the package is a small glass vial, which holds a small bit of clear liquid, with one unassuming seed at the bottom, no larger than a sunflower seed. I know it doesn’t look like much, but that little seed is going to change your life. See, I recently discovered my Uncle had a greenhouse deep in his property. He has a weird amount of secret passages and hidden areas on his property, so I’m still discovering new things hidden around here even after living here for so long. That seed was one of the first things I found in the greenhouse, and from what I’ve read I think it’s exactly what you need. It’s called a growth seed, and I suppose the best way to explain it is that it is a plant based parasite. Actually, parasite is a somewhat harsh word for this. Symbiote would be more accurate.

When you were a kid, did you believe that old myth about a plant growing in your stomach if you ate a watermelon seed? Well surprisingly that's actually how a growth seed works. Once a seed is ingested, it attaches itself to a host's digestive track and grows into the rest of the body. Now that may sound rather disturbing, and it is in a way. No one likes to think about some strange thing growing inside their body. But despite how frightening they may sound, growth seeds are basically harmless. They want their host to thrive, so instead of harming their body, they actually improve it. The plant merges with the host's muscular system, and uses it to absorb light through the skin, which it then turns into nutrients for both it and its host. You know how superman gets his superpowers from exposure to sunlight? Well, a person with a growth seed grows their muscles the same way. For them, getting a tan is like a month's worth of working out. Imagine getting huge, beefy muscles from just laying in the sunlight. It won’t happen automatically, but as long as you go outside regularly, you should grow into an absolute fucking stud in a matter of weeks. 

What makes the growth seed a good fit for you though isn’t the effortless muscles. A lot of transformation methods leave people buff and hung in moments, much less weeks. What makes the growth seed a good fit for you are the other side effect, the pheromones. See the plant grown from the growth seeds wants its host to thrive. It wants them beefy, muscular, and taken care of, since that means the plant will be cared for as well. That's why the plant produces pheromones that make the user absolutely fucking irresistable to anyone who gets even a whiff. You want people to treat you like the main character? To look at you and see a god amongst men, someone they can’t help but lust after, admire, and even worship? The growth seed is the way. One gulp, a bit of sunlight, and you’ll have the body, the confidence, and the adoration you’ve always dreamed of. This is how you get what you’ve always wanted. This is how the wallflower finally blossoms. 

There are a few other side effects of course. The plant needs its host to go outside, so you might find yourself acting a bit sportier, and enjoying being in nature a bit more. You’ll also find yourself feeling way more confident, to the point of cockiness, as the new chemicals tend to alter brain chemistry ever so slightly to make the host as healthy as can be. Besides that though, you’ll get everything you wanted, with basically no catch. If you want this, all you have to do is eat the seed, but if it's too much for you feel free to send it back. I have a feeling you’re going to make the right decision.

I used to be a desk worker for a large technology company. Our business almost went bust and they had to lay off half the staff. I was one of the unlucky ones who suddenly found myself unemployed.

After three months of rejections, the only company that got back to me was a construction firm needing a laborer. I was a skinny 25-year-old who had never touched a weight in my life, but I was desperate, so I showed up for the interview anyway.

The foreman took one look at my scrawny arms and chuckled. “You sure about this, kid? You look like a stiff breeze would knock you over.” But they were short-staffed, so he told me to start the next morning on a trial basis.

That first day was brutal. By lunch I was already dying — sunburnt, exhausted, and ready to quit. I sat on a stack of bricks trying to catch my breath when the foreman walked over holding a large plastic bottle.

“Here,” he said with a knowing grin, tossing it to me. “New guys always need a little something to help them adjust. Drink it all. Trust me.”

It was ice-cold and tasted strange — a mix of electrolytes and something metallic and bitter. I was so thirsty I chugged the whole thing in one go.

The heat hit me almost instantly.

A deep, rolling warmth exploded in my stomach and spread outward like wildfire. My shoulders cracked and widened fast, muscle packing on thick and heavy. My chest swelled outward into two massive, hairy pecs while dark curls rapidly spread across them. My arms ballooned, biceps and triceps exploding with size, veins popping as my forearms thickened with raw power.

My stomach rounded out hard into a solid, hairy gut that pushed over the waistband of my pants. A tattoo appeared right across it in bold letters. My legs thickened into tree trunks, thighs rubbing together as my ass filled out the back of my shorts. My pits started giving off a strong, manly stink with every movement.

My face changed too. My jaw squared off, my features roughened, and a full, thick beard grew in dark and heavy. My hair receded into a tight buzzcut. Even my height shot up to 6’2”, my feet swelling into size 13s that split my old shoes apart.

My clothes didn’t survive either. My button-up and slacks disintegrated in the heat, replaced instantly by a pair of loose black work shorts and nothing else. A pair of beat-up black flip-flops appeared on my feet.

I stood up, now a big, hairy, muscular beast of a man, sweat pouring down my new gut and chest.

The foreman laughed and slapped my hairy belly hard. “There you go, big man. Looks like the special drink did its job. You’re one of us now.”

I flexed my thick arm, feeling the power surge through me. No more desk job. No more skinny nerd. No more stress about bills or interviews.

Now I spend my days hauling heavy shit around the site, sweating under the sun, and throwing back beers with the crew after work. My hands are calloused, my back is strong, and this gut jiggles a little when I walk but fuck, it feels right.

I still remember my old life… but I wouldn’t trade this one for anything.

Especially not when I’m walking around shirtless, carrying a massive bag of tools over my shoulder like it weighs nothing, looking exactly like the hairy beast I’ve become.

This is my life now.

“This book is so boring. Why the fuck did I pick English as a major?” my roommate Aaron groaned for the third time that evening.

He was sprawled on the couch in his usual baggy hoodie and shorts, skinny legs dangling off the edge, looking every bit the pale, nerdy English student he was. I sighed and tried to ignore him, flipping through my own textbook.

“Why couldn’t I have picked something easy like Sports Science or whatever?” he whined again.

I couldn’t help but smirk. Aaron was as skinny as they came, he had no muscle, no coordination, zero interest in anything athletic. Still, if it would shut him up…

I had discovered long ago that I could change one thing about a person’s life. Just one. Permanent. Reality would rewrite itself around whatever it was I changed and make it so the rest of their life and the world would fit.

So I focused on him and made the change.

Aaron’s major is now Sports Science.

The world rippled.

I felt the shift wash over the room like a wave. When I looked back at the couch, my jaw dropped.

Aaron was gone.

In his place lounged a total jock god.

He was massive. Thick, powerful legs covered in dark, intricate tattoos stretched across the couch, his quads and calves bulging even while relaxed. He now had rock-l hard abs and a broad, sculpted chest. His arms were covered in full sleeves of ink, one draped lazily behind his head while the other held a book he was clearly no longer interested in. A red cap sat backwards on his head, and his jaw had sharpened into a strong, masculine line with a perfectly trimmed beard.

“Bro… why the fuck am I reading a book?” His voice was deep and lazy now, full of that effortless jock confidence.

He tossed the book aside and stretched, the movement making his entire muscular body flex and shift. The tank top pulled tight across his wide chest as he scratched at his abs absentmindedly. His thick legs shifted, the heavy bulge in his tight white Calvin Klein briefs impossible to ignore.

Aaron looked over at me with a cocky grin.

“Yo, dude. My brain feels fucking fried from all these plays and training drills. When’s practice again?” He flexed one massive arm casually, admiring the way his bicep peaked. “Shit, I’ve gotten huge this semester.”

I just stared, heart racing. The change had rewritten everything. His clothes, his major, his body, even his personality. The skinny English nerd was completely gone. In his place was this tattooed, muscular Sports Science jock who looked like he lived in the gym and partied every weekend.

He swung his powerful legs off the couch and stood up, towering over me. The way his quads and glutes flexed as he moved was hypnotic.

“Wanna hit the gym with me, bro? I need to get a good pump in before the game this weekend.”

He grinned, completely oblivious to the fact that just thirty seconds ago he had been complaining about Shakespeare.