#ginger tf

They say: Don’t buy anything from untrustworthy websites. Viruses, spam and far worse things could be lurking there. The moment your details fall into the wrong hands, your peace of mind is gone and your money is gone too.

But Roman says: I don’t care! I want that orange iPhone! For $300, I just have to buy it!

He waited several weeks for his parcel from Zingiber Technology – and sure enough, it arrived after seven weeks. Slightly battered, but it was there. Full of impatience, Roman tore it open. There it was. The latest iPhone. Shiny and shrink-wrapped. He carefully picked it up, turning it gently in his hands. He set it up. Everything worked. His Apple ID, all his passwords. He was just about to install his tax app.

But then… he felt an irrepressible urge to take a selfie. Right at that very moment. Not just any selfie. It had to be topless. Roman was slim; he would never take a photo of himself bare-chested. But it was like an inner compulsion that made him rip his shirt off and throw it to the floor.

Now he stood there in front of the mirror. His heart was beating and bumping against his chest.

Bump.

It tickled.

Bump. Bump.

Hair blossomed on his chest. Bright orange curls wiggled out of his slightly reddening skin. Slowly they spread over his pectorals. Wait...

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump.

His flat chest muscles pressed against Roman's skin, filling it with hard textur, coated with bristly hairs. His free hand came in touch with his new furry chest. Feeling the rough patch under his fingers, he gasped for air. Like water falling down a waterfall the rusty-orange hairs created a path to his lower regions, accompanied by a subtle swelling in his mid-section.

Fffffffhhhhhh. The air was filling his body.

Bump. Bump. Bump. The blood was pumped through his thickening body.

Roman's shoulders tensed. Widening, rounding, spreading into the room, while some sparse red hairs greeted from there, declaring it as their new home.

His forearms filled out. Thickening with every breath as freckles joined the fight over the free patches of skin on Roman's body. They lost around the elbow, giving space to the luscious red curls flowing down his forearms.

Fffffffffffffffffh. Bump. Bump. Ffffffffffffffffffffh.

His upper arm crunched. Muscles and fibers dwelling beneath the skin, creating a solid unit of strength from hand to head.

Click. Another picture. Ffffffffffffh. The growth wandered down to his butt, swelling and stretching his shorts.

He moaned, caressing his nipple, throwing back his head as he could feel blood rushing to his face.

Bump. Bump. Bump.

Roman's hair started curling, forming locks that looked redder by the second, while the same orange hair spread over his clean-shaven face. Crunching and creaking sounds escaped his face as his lower jaw sharpened. His brows extended slightly forward, taking the reddish tone that could be found almost everywhere on his body. An invisible blade carefully traced the outlines.

Deep inside him Roman could feel something shifting. Away from the phone gamer to a trained camera expert, knowing how to show off with the right light. But as the wave of red hairs hit his legs, he was not thinking about it.

He was feeling it. The swelling beneath his skin, the tingling on his skin. He did not think about his feet, bursting out of his sandals.

He did feel the power surge blasting the thin leather stripes away, making place for bigger feet with freckles and tufts of red hair. Different thoughts occupied his minds. Training. Showing off. Posing. Taking pics.

Click. Bump. Bump.

Roman was looking at his mirror selfie. That was who he was. Who he had always been. Who he will always be. And he was feeling everything of himself.

Click.

"That's good enough, the lads gonna love it."

Pfffffffffffffh.

Roman exhaled.

Bump.

Posted.

Garreth hadn't noticed the red-haired salesman's grin when he paid for the self-tanner. "Instant effect, uniform tan - quick effect" - he just hadn't been able to ignore that. In a fortnight he was going on a trip with two friends and he certainly wasn't going to look like he existed only as lime.

When he arrived home, he quickly undressed and shook the can. Then Garreth pressed the spray button and aimed the nozzle at his chest. A generous amount came out, but... only in single drops, sprinkling his skin like cheese on top of pasta.

"Crap, dumb thing, it's broken," Garreth grumbled and looked for a cloth to remove the "fiasco" from his skin, but.... the skin, touched by the brownish liquid, began to shimmer and slightly pulsate.

  His already fair skin took on an even rosier tone, but it was increasingly hidden by the freckles. A gush of the self-tanner shot into Garreth's face, turning his short brown hair red. He coughed. His chin became a little more pointed as a red beard sprouted on it. His eyes took on a deep brown colour. Confused, he looked at the spray. It looked less and less like a self-tanner. More like a...

"There's my hairspray, dude, I've got to get my look right," Garreth said, spraying a generous amount into his red hair. "Quick selfie, then the gym can come, need to look good for the lads," Garreth said, leaning out the window and pulling out his phone. As he pressed the shutter, his pants turned into dark blue shorts. His chest showed lean muscles, his arms the beginnings of good strength. All decorated with brownish dots. No wonder Garreth only had the nickname "Freckles" among his friends in the gym.

When John had returned to his parents because he wanted to "get back to his roots" - after many years of living on the other side of the country - he hadn't expected his father to drag him straight to the nearest pub. Somehow his dad had changed too. He looked... younger... when had his hair stopped being grey and gone back to the way it used to be?

"Dad, I haven't had a drink for years," John tried to defend himself against the friendly people in the pub who always offered him something. "And neither have you." "Come on, son, I liked it from the first moment too. And I feel like new when I walk out of here," John's father said, finishing his glass of beer in one go. John sighed. He could give it a try. Maybe it was available non-alcoholic. Carefully he sipped.

"That's good," he said softly. And sipped again. And with each sip, John put on a little weight. His slim belly gave way to a beer belly and with a loud ripping sound his shirt gave way. "Refill, mate!" he shouted, his nose red. A tickling sensation passed over his body. Red hairs spread out, covering his hard belly, crawling across his chest. His dark brown hair lightened, a red beard covered his face. With a groan, he slammed the empty mug down on the counter and was suddenly surrounded by other men who looked like him. Red hair, beer bellies, thick red beards and a thirst for beer and more.