#deep voice

I don’t want to ruin your orgasm. I don’t want deprive you of such pleasure. I just absolutely need to hear how cute and needy and whiny you can get once you’re just so. fucking. close. to getting what you’ve been working for. you’ve been so good for me this whole time- following every direction, being so polite with your cries of “please” and “thank you” .

I just need to hear you beg a bit. that’s all.

your shaky, breathy whines of “please, I’m so close”, paired with full-body shaking, eyes shutting tightly, hips swaying back and forth involuntarily; just so desperate to cum.

after you’ve been so good for me, of course I’m going to allow you to cum. to make a fucking. mess. on me. for me. but I need to hear you beg first.

p.s.

charlie reid and his hot deep raspy voice

yeah he will talk you thru it🤭

//☁️

| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |

Chapter 12 – Flesh and Form

The game no longer felt like a game.

The four of them stood quietly around the board now, fully dressed in their magically conjured uniforms — a plumber, a cop, a swimmer, and a wrestler. Each outfit clung perfectly to their changing frames, tailored to evolving bodies they hadn’t chosen… but were slowly starting to accept.

Or, in some cases, enjoy.

Zack reached for the dice with hesitation. He was sweating — though whether it was from nerves or something else, even he couldn’t say.

The dice tumbled across the board and landed.

Red space.

“You’ve grown where it matters. Your backside’s a gift — show it off.”

“Oh no,” Zack mumbled. “Not again.”

He didn’t feel it at first. Then — a creeping pressure. His work pants began to tighten, the seams pulling taut. His hips widened. His glutes pushed out. His ass swelled, round and full, practically bubbling out of the crack in his uniform.

“Shit—” he grunted, tugging at his belt.

It was no use. His body wasn’t shrinking back.

The plumber crack that had already been exposed was now unavoidable. The weight of his new rear pulled his pants slightly lower, giving everyone a full view.

Ty let out a low whistle.

“Looks like someone’s ready for service calls,” he said with a slow smirk, puffing his cigar.

Zack turned red. He tried to adjust his belt again, but the extra mass only jiggled slightly in response.

“This is so messed up,” he muttered, but he didn’t step away from the board.

Ty rolled next — green space.

“Your voice carries weight. You’re the one they listen to now.”

He blinked. And then—

“Huh,” he said. The word came out deeper. Way deeper.

Everyone looked at him.

“That’s… new,” Ty rumbled, his voice now low, commanding, almost cinematic in its depth.

The cigar in his mouth felt more fitting now, like a badge of authority. His chest rose with a prideful breath, and his belly stretched his cop uniform even further. He gave Zack a long look, exhaling smoke slowly.

“You got a problem with that, boy?” he asked, casually — but with dominance.

Zack gulped and shook his head quickly, looking down.

Ty smirked again.

“Didn’t think so.”

Logan stepped forward.

Red space.

“Trim down. Reveal more. You’re meant to be looked at.”

“Wait, no, not again—” Logan started.

But it was too late. His body began to compress. His muscles shrank — not entirely, but enough to be noticeable. His arms slimmed, his waist tightened, and the faint curve of a belly he’d once had was now a smooth, toned abdomen. He was still athletic… but now twinkish, lean, and aesthetically soft.

His face softened as well — youthful, boyish. Even pretty.

He looked down at himself in disbelief. The speedo clung even tighter now, hugging his frame like it belonged to someone smaller. Someone more delicate.

“What’s happening to me…” he whispered.

But when he looked up, Alex was staring at him.

Not judgmental. Not mocking. Just… watching. Slowly.

And Logan felt it again — that twist in his chest. The one he didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he said weakly, trying to sound annoyed.

Alex tilted his head and smirked.

Alex rolled with confidence. Blue space.

“Your voice becomes your weapon. Assert it.”

His lips parted, and the sound that came out made Logan’s knees go a little soft.

“You’ve been staring all day,” Alex said with a new deep, gravelly voice, rough and cocky. “You like what you see?”

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the blush gave him away.

Alex took a slow step forward, his singlet shifting over his broad chest — nipples still hard beneath the fabric from earlier.

“Don’t worry,” Alex added, “I like being looked at.”

Zack stood near the wall now, his now bigger round plumber’s ass pushing out behind him like a shelf, clearly flustered but unable to stop glancing at Ty.

Ty stood like a wall of dominance, cigar smoke curling, voice now a low rumble of control, eyes locked on Zack like he already owned him.

Logan shuffled in his smaller frame, flushed, twink-like and lean, feeling increasingly exposed under Alex’s watchful gaze.

And Alex? He had found his confidence. He was massive, cocky, and aware of the effect he had on Logan — and was starting to enjoy it.

The board glowed, satisfied.

The transformation was no longer just physical.

It was relational. Sexual. Power-based.

And none of them were ready for what came next.