clevertreephilosopher

[clevertreephilosopher]

Rites: Valentine

Same-sex relationship is still illegal in my country and punishable with prison term, that's why me and my boyfriend always have to lay low in public and even also took some extra measures in private to ensure our safety. But, for Valentine's Day, we always did something special for the past 2 years and we absolutely planned to do it again this year. Last year it was two stereotypical American college football jocks, this year.....well, we wanted something different

We stumbled upon this opportunity during our research about moving out from our country and settle in an entirely different one. They helped people to relocate for short-term, like quick break from daily living, to long-term such as a complete change of life. Was it the alcohol or what that clouded our judgment back then, but we followed through the procedure back at that day from that shady website and found ourselves the following morning not next to each other and in a completely different country altogether. It was chaotic but we managed to found each other and have the best sex of our relationship to that date before all in a sudden ripped away from the two fine dadbod to return to our ordinary life when the time was up

This year, we're much more well-planned and prepared as we decided to go to Brazil to celebrate our 3rd Valentine together. Spotting that Valentine falls on Friday this year, we also requested a return back to our body by Sunday evening in our country timezone because we still need to go to work on Monday after all

"Ready?"

"Always. Directly DM me, okay?"

"Sure thing, babe,"

"Okay, good night,"

---

I know it's our third time doing this, but it's always giving me such chills to open my eyes and found myself to not be in bed but actually in the middle of doing something inside a completely different body. We did mention to the agency to land us inside fit, 21-35 years old age group Brazilian men, but the weight of it really only hit when you experienced it, and it's certainly true for this one because this guy I'm in is thick!

It's Friday morning here in Rio, and I'm inside this huge tatted hunk named Gonzalo, his buzzcut and overall style makes him look very intimidating but there's a charming side to this handsome stud that I know I won't be able to resist if he flashes his smile to me. A small dog on a leash that I held added another element of surprise because I'm terrified of dog and I really cannot touch dog but I think Gonzalo here has no problem with it, right? I quickly take a selfie of myself and directly send the picture to my boyfriend's Insta as Gonzalo's insta is accessible anyway. Ohhh....he's typing right away, so he logged in to his account already huh......I wonder how he looks like

"Morning, handsome stranger. Just finished with my morning run, I'm reeked. Name's Joao,"

Fuck me, he's looking like a snack! Gonzalo's memory is filled with women and these repeated names of Carla that appeared in a lot of the memory, a girlfriend of Gonzalo apparently, but sorry to that woman, boyfriend is not going to celebrate Valentine's Day with her this year. I started to add my own input to Gonzalo's mind and make this body heated for the snack that is Joao on my screen, as I type my reply stating my interest to come over to check out how reeked he is. This two dudes might not actually know each other, but we don't really care about all that because what mattered for now is the fact that my boyfriend is inside of that man and I want to give him the love and fucking he deserved for his Valentine's Day

Once I receive the detail of his apartment location and another sultry selfie of his already taking off his musky cap and sweaty tanktop, I'm headed his way with the dog coming along with me.

The temperature in Rio is not that different with our hometown, so I find no problem strutting around over here through the walkways to the apartment located around 25 minutes walk from Gonzalo's residence. The people is definitely a lot more diverse and wearing a much-more revealing clothes compared to my hometown, but really, my mind just wandered to the idea of my boyfriend inside that taut Brazilian twunk, probably still sweaty with almost no clothings on already waiting for me. The colors of the street, the sight and senses of a new city, everything becomes secondary as I can feel the throbbing meat is accustomed to its owner's gay thoughts and just ready to be released from its cotton prison.

When I finally ring the bell of his apartment unit, the door opened quickly to the sight I simply cannot resist. I instantly lunged at him for a kiss and before long, we're already stripped naked from all our clothings as we consummate our Brazilian outings right here in this apartment while the sun shines nicely on us and the neighbors clearly can see us fucking each other but not gonna call police on us

[clevertreephilosopher]

“Sin, Love, and Gains – What Really Matters?”

The Claudia Newbury Show was a staple of early afternoon television—famous for its unpredictable turns and jaw-dropping moments. Claudia Newbury herself was the epitome of a tough yet charismatic talk show host who always kept the discussion flowing.

Today’s episode? A hot-button debate titled: “Sin, Love, and Gains – What Really Matters?”

Guests:

Dr. Richard “Rick” Halford (50, conservative politician) – staunch defender of "traditional values," believes homosexuality is a "sin."

Pastor Elijah Summers (28, progressive Protestant pastor) – preaches love and acceptance for all.

Lucas “Lukey” Brennan (22, bisexual college bro) – motto: “Dude, who cares? As long as it feels good.”

As expected, the discussion starts off heated. Dr. Halford, face stern with righteous fury, rants about "the decline of moral values," pounding the table as he speaks.

Pastor Summers listens patiently before countering in his calm, measured tone: “God gave us the ability to love. Why would we put restrictions on that?”

Lukey, meanwhile, leans back, idly shaking his protein drink, smirking.

“Bro, why do you care so much?” he drawls. “Like, deadass, never thought about what it’d be like if a dude sucked your dick?”

Halford’s face turns crimson. “How dare you! I am a man of principle!”

But as he speaks, something… changes. His voice softens slightly. The deep, authoritarian edge weakens.

“…Is it hot in here?”

His suit feels loose. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. The gray in his hair fades. His wrinkles smooth out.

Pastor Summers lifts an eyebrow. “Are you feeling… okay?”

Halford blinks rapidly, his breathing uneven. “Dude… what’s happening?” His voice cracks—higher now, lighter.

Lukey grins and slides his protein shake across the table. “Here, bro. Try this. High-protein, no bullshit.”

Halford hesitates, then takes a sip. His pupils dilate.

“Yo… this actually slaps.”

With a sudden impulse, he unbuttons his collar. Then another button. His shoulders broaden under the fabric, his posture relaxing. His sharp, judgmental gaze fades into something… hazier. He fixes his eyes on Lukey—on his face, but also… lower.

“…All those arguments I made…” He rubs the back of his neck, voice dazed. “Why did I care so much? I mean… can you even control desire? Like, if I’m turned on, I’m turned on.”

His gaze flickers between Summers and Lukey, assessing them both.

And then—his suit slips off like shedding old skin.

In his place now sits a 19-year-old gym bro—lean, toned, with a slight pump. His shirt has somehow morphed into a tight tank top, hugging his sculpted torso. He casually slips a hand into his pocket, shifting himself with zero shame.

“Dude… I feel so light.”

With his free hand, he lifts his tank top, caressing his abs. His eyes lock onto Lukey with something dangerously close to hunger.

“Yo, Lukey… how much you bench?”

Lukey, who also has a hand suspiciously close to his groin, smirks. “245, bro. You?”

Halford—no, Rickie now—grins, breath heavy. He’s practically panting.

“Let’s find out. Why are we even still sitting here?”

Pastor Summers leans back with a knowing smirk. “I think our work here is done.”

Claudia straightens her papers and sighs. “Yeah, let’s cut to commercial. Can’t guarantee this is staying PG.”

Epilogue

The talk segment ends. The studio empties. But one person remains.

Rickie sits on his chair, relaxed, legs spread. His phone is propped up, camera rolling.

Streaming live to his OnlyFans.

And judging by the way his hand moves beneath his shorts… he’s just getting started.

Fade to black.

[clevertreephilosopher]

I already envisioned yet another lonely Valentine's day for this year, which I have not much a problem with. But to suddenly found myself in a room I did not recognize, with a reflection of a studly stranger that looked back at me, I guess the universe plotted different things for me this year

The guy is not like a 10/10 or something, more like a 7.5 or an 8 out of 10, but this kind of dude cannot be single or receive zero action on Valentine's Day. There's just no way his chiseled abs, slightly rugged look and this divine musk of a human not turn heads around, and I planned to utilize it all to my maximum pleasure. Memories of gym sessions I have no idea about and things this dude did in the past started to fill my head the longer I spent time exploring his house, his furnitures and his clothings, and it makes the whole stay as Raul feels very comfortable, like I'm actually at home and all this thing around me belongs to me

After a quick decision to pair the jeans with something casual and easy to be taken off, I opened the existing Tinder in his phone account and started looking around. What a way to get your first action on Valentine's day, huh?

Happy Valentine's Day, lovebirds. Just finished with my very own Valentine so, sorry for the delay. Have a great weekend!

[clevertreephilosopher]

Dressing Room Score

All the couples wanted the day off for Valentine’s Day but I took those shifts so quickly because hello it’s free money! I took the apparel section because it’s the easiest place to get a peak at the dressing rooms. I’m not a perv I swear, but I can’t help myself. I always kept one vital of bodysuit serum on me. All the eye candy going into the dressing rooms was like a buffet of options. Men, women, pets! Shit I don’t discriminate I love trying on another persons experience to see how they live.

We were getting a weird crowd today since all the couples were out and about. The store was filled with miscellaneous randos so I went through most of my day thinking I struck out. As I locked in refolding some destroyed sections of t-shirts, a customer came up to me asking for help locating more of a certain item I absent mindedly answered looking at what was in his hand before looking up. My words stopping in their tracks as I saw his face.

He was so adorable and dorky looking in his face but the outfit he already had on told a different story. Leaving little to the imagination, it inferred he was going on a date or going out but I didn’t want to inquire too much. I like my mouth mindlessly answer his inquiries as I kept looking back to ogle at his outfit.

Eventually he asked to use the dressing rooms and I knew this was basically my chance. We walked slowly to the rooms and as he walked into the tiny space I quickly pulled the syringe out, stabbing him in the neck behind his back. The mirrors lining the room couldve saved him but he was oblivious of his surroundings.

He began turning into a suit hollowing out into a mound that looked like skin colored liquid latex. I quickly pushed him into the dressing room with me to avoid spectators. As I latched the door, I turned around to see the process completed. I knew I was operating on limited time and quickly pulled his skin on. I love putting on a new body that’s stacked with muscles that I’m not. It’s like you feel bloated, but in a good way because it goes straight to your muscles and any other places you differ in size…if you get what I mean. He was clearly a grower because I didn’t feel anything crazy there though.

I looked through his wallet to figure out a name and basic details. Okay, Reese is the name 5’9” is the height okay there’s the address. Wait the best part! I whipped back upright standing and smiling towards my new phone.

I decided to save the rest of the excitement for privacy gathered my new belongings and headed to the address on my ID. I fumbled through several keys before eventually finding the right one as I pushed my way into a very nice but neutral looking apartment. It definitely gave upper class gay which is what I always pretended to be so this would be easy to embody.

I quickly began stripping as I hastily searched for the closest full body mirror. I wanted to see the goods from every single angle. I ripped the belt holding up my very fitted pants, dropping them down to my ankles and I just gasped at what I could see.

Reese was had the type of body I was always afraid to have. He’s so conventionally attractive that while I wore him I felt like I couldn’t control myself. I needed to push it to the limit and see what I can do.

I headed down to the gym matching the sign in tag on Reese’s keys and just pretended to be there for a good workout. I mean I did go for a workout just not that kind.

I had a hard time breaking a sweat, which only intrigued me more but I headed to the locker room to take pics. I was just so obsessed with his juicy chest. Thankfully this was the better strategy because I kept getting passing glances until someone finally took initiative and approached me.

The man was such a daddy, something I could’ve only hoped to previously attract before. He nearly demanded I come with him after he got dressed and who would be to not oblige? I got in his big truck and we made our way to his home. I don’t know how I deluded myself into thinking I’d be the dominant one in this situation but the second the house door closed behind me. The burly daddy manhandled me and pushed me onto his bed. Gentle and slow was only a dream I could’ve hoped for because that man whipped his beer can out immediately and shoved his way in.

Don’t get me wrong he was BIG but that was the moment I learned what Reese did well. He was a power bottom. There was no moment of pain, me and my new hole took it like a champ. The in and out of his aggressive pace was matched by my new muscle memory eagerness to accept it.

He attacked my muscular backside as I finally began to break a sweat. Loud moans escaped my mouth. I couldn’t control it like an animalistic cry. As I thought I was reaching my limit I came on myself as he kept going. That would become a recurring theme.

Every day I’d show up to the gym and act like the slutty himbo I wanted to be. Ending up at a different home, condo, apartment every night putting my new orifices to work.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Becoming His Type

I had never been good at confessing my feelings. But this Valentine’s Day, I was finally going to do it. After months of crushing on Jake—his easy smile, his warm laugh, the way he made everyone feel special—I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

I spent hours getting ready, rehearsing my words, smoothing out my dress. With a box of chocolates in hand, I found him outside of class and took a deep breath.

“Jake, I—um—I really like you. Would you want to go out sometime?”

His expression shifted instantly—an awkward, apologetic look that made my heart sink.

“Oh… wow,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re really great, but I just don’t see you that way.”

I forced a smile. Laughed it off. Acted like it didn’t matter. But it did.

That night, staring at my ceiling, I whispered into the dark, I just wish I could be everything he wanted.

When I woke up, something felt wrong. My body was heavier in places it shouldn’t be, lighter in others. My shirt fit differently. My voice—low and groggy—wasn’t mine. I scrambled out of bed and nearly tripped over my own feet.

And then I saw him in the mirror.

Dark, messy hair. Sharp jawline. Lean muscle under my suddenly short, tight crop top. Hands larger than they should be. A body that wasn’t mine—but was undeniably me.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up with shaky fingers. A message from my best friend:

“So… did you know Jake’s into guys? Because that rejection? Definitely not about you.”

My breath caught.

I had wished to be everything he wanted.

And now, I was.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Hope you enjoy this quick story! Also thank you for all the love on my stories! I just started this blog a little over a week ago and I’m so excited to see the places it goes!

[clevertreephilosopher]

Call Me Chad

Charlie never thought that a beautiful girl like Rachel would show any real interest in a geek like him, but to use him just to get to Jack? His dumb musclehead roommate who he also had to tutor to get paid enough by his football coach? He felt heartbroken, trying to find the right words to say to her to not leave him. 

“I just can’t see a future between us, especially if you’re not hot like Jack,” Rachel said, as Jack wrapped his arm around her slender waist.

“Bro, she’ll never continue dating a nerdy loser like you,” Jack scoffed, cutting Charlie off.

The small, twig-like nerd lips quivered and his reddened eyes burst into tears as he ran out of the frat party, only to be caught by a few of Jack’s douchebag posse to be stripped till he was completely naked and eventually dunked into the swimming pool. It left him embarrassed, vulnerable and overwhelmed, as he was surrounded by pompous, superficial jerks that kept laughing and sneering at him. All of it turned his shame and guilt into anger and vengeance—

———

“CHARLIE! Wake up, man. The library’s gonna close in half an hour.”

Charlie woke up disgruntled and deeply frustrated. Fuck, he’d dreamt about the set-up. Again. It’d been a few weeks since he got dumped, and it still consumed his mind like crazy. He rubbed his eyes softly and looked up to see his good friend William waving his hand in front of Charlie’s face. 

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been dozing off quite a bit during study group,” William asked, looking concerned.

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I’m awake. Just…”

“The set-up?” William replied. Charlie froze.

“Was it that obvious?” 

“Charlie, it’s the only thing that’s been on your mind for three months, and with the way things happened, I wouldn’t blame you for being so fixated on it,” William rubbed Charlie’s back caringly as he spoke, his hand pushing his glasses back up to position. 

Charlie sighed again, and sunk his head down. “But I shouldn’t be. I should have moved on by now, found someone new—”

William cut him off. “Don’t you dare go into what-ifs. That’ll only keep you miserable.”

“I know… it’s just… I wanna be someone’s special someone, but I can’t when I look like a stick and have to compete with huge muscle guys like Jack and his friends…” Charlie shook his head, frustrated and exasperated, while William gave him a comforting bro hug…

But William wished he could be more than just a friend to Charlie. See, William had been there for Charlie pretty much all their lives, growing up together and being very close. Hell, William had especially been there for him that night too: picking him up from the frat house; sitting with and comforting Charlie in his dorm; making sure he ate well and didn’t binge or starve himself; if anything, William would’ve made a great, loving boyfriend to Charlie… if only Charlie wasn’t so painfully straight and thought this was just a good friend looking out for a friend in pain. He, too, was frustrated by Charlie’s situation and constant thinking of the past.

Charlie rose from his chair and looked at William, smiling softly. “Thanks for being here for me, Will. It really means a lot to have a friend like you,” he said before walking away.

“L-likewise, Charlie. I’ll see you later,” Will replied, a smile forced onto his lips as he watched Charlie leave the library. Fuck, if only there was something he could do to make both his and Charlie’s situations ease up, but also align so they could be together.

Just as William was about to leave, he noticed a shimmer out of the corner of his eye. Turning to see where it came from, he noticed an old, rickety door with an oddly polished handle built in between the bookshelves. “Huh, I’d not seen that there before…” he mumbled as he walked over to it and turned the handle. The door swiftly opened, and Will stepped into what looked like a dusty, abandoned storage room, covered in cobwebs, rags and dust. He was intrigued at first, but screamed when he heard the door slam behind him without warning.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??” he shouted, grabbing his phone and turning its flashlight on to look around for the source of the door closing. As he kept searching, a bunch of lanterns mysteriously flared up, suddenly illuminating the room to reveal an ancient-looking book on a cobwebbed lectern. After taking a few breaths to calm down, Will blew the dust off the book, to see its title: “The Jock Bible”. An Ancient Greek-style illustration of a hot, muscular guy adorned the cover.

“Hmm, interesting name for a book…” he pursed his lips, intrigued as he lifted the cover. He was suddenly overwhelmed when a golden aura emerged from the pages and blinded him, filling him with immense knowledge, knowledge that could play to both his benefit, as well as Charlie’s. The thoughts swirling in his mind made him smirk. Perhaps there could be a way to make Charlie his after all… though he himself might want to use it for his own needs too.

The next morning, Charlie waited in line at the cafeteria, concealing himself in a purple hoodie to not draw any attention from people. The party had made him embarrassingly and overwhelmingly visible, which gnawed at him and forced the poor nerd to resort to wearing more and more hoodies, just to hide. As he neared the trays and plates on the way to the buffet, he felt a firm, thick-fingered hand grab his shoulder, which sent shivers down his spine.

“Hey there, Chad, man you’re looking more huge every day,” a deep voice spoke.

“Wait, that voice is familiar,” Charlie thought, and turned around to see a handsome hunk standing there, in a blue tank top and grey sweatpants, which threw him off so much he jumped. The jock in front of him chuckled, while Charlie gripped his tray.

“Bro, chill, looks like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” he smirked as he eyed Charlie up and down. Another shiver ran down the nerd’s spine, and he felt strangely… comfortable.  Charlie took a few steps back as he still felt nervous around this guy, even if he was more chill about it, but the musclehead sauntered over and slapped the nerd’s back.

“Come on, let’s sit together and chat, Chad,” he said.

Charlie replied back, firmly, “My name’s not Chad! It’s Charlie!”

The jock shook his head and smirked. “Nah, dude, you’re Chad alright. One of the biggest dudes I’d ever seen.”

Afraid of this guy and what he was saying, Charlie threw his tray at the jock and made a run for it. He ran past the building he was supposed to have class in in an hour, past his residence hall, he even ran past the fraternity quad. When he stopped and took a breath, he looked around to see he was in the athletics area of campus, which spooked him. He could see the gym and the football field in front of him, and as he took a step back to wonder what the hell was going on, that slight shiver that ran down his spine tingled once more, and all of a sudden, his shirt felt extremely tight on him, as if compressing him.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, panting as he peeled off his shirt to no avail, the fabric tearing at his growing body. The buttons on his shirt bounced off as he felt his muscles grow at a rapid rate, which made him almost scream, while his shirt finally fell to the ground in a pile of shredded rags, to reveal a shocking surprise: rounded shoulders, defined pecs, washboard abs, toned arms, and a pair of legs strong enough to crush watermelons.

“H-holy shit, I’m buff??” he asked himself, and as he curled his arm into a flex, his bicep vein popped out, showing just how lean he was. His eyes went wide in horror. “What the fuck is going on??”

“Chad, Bro, I told you, you’re looking more huge everyday,” the jock from the canteen said, appearing as if out of nowhere. Charlie jumped and stepped back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Charlie asked, shutting his mouth as he heard a deep, bovine voice emerge from his mouth. “What the fuck is happening to me? What are you doing to me?” he cried, cowering in fear.

“That’s not the Chad I know. Dude, you’re the cockiest, most confident sigma jock on campus, not some wussy nerd,” the jock responded with a chuckle.

“I keep telling you, my name’s not Chad! It’s Chad—” Charlie tried to say his own name, but the name Chad slipped out of his lips instead. No matter how hard he tried, the name Chad stuck to his tongue like honey. “What the hell is going on?”

“You’ll see when we’re done, Chad.” The jock winked and sauntered away, his muscles defined by the sunlight above while Charlie watched, confused and terrified altogether. What did that musclehead mean by “you’ll see when we’re done”?

Walking back to his dorm, Charlie felt exposed. Embarrassed. He tried to cover up his body, but his hands, large as they were, were unable to fully cover his massively ripped chest, which bounced with every step he took. The now-lean muscular nerd, glasses still on, kept his head hung low to avoid attracting any more attention. However, when he was a few feet away from the front door, he heard giggles and whistles from the other side of the street. Charlie looked up, and noticed a trio of sorority girls looking at him. No, not just looking. Ogling him. Licking their lips and blowing kisses at him. As they did, his spine tingled… and he thought his dick was getting hard too. He smirked back at them with a confident grin, flexing one of his arms. The girls giggled even more, which made the nerd blush, until he realized his dick was still soft and limp. 

His face went pale at the realization, and before he could even try to process what the hell was going on, Charlie ran off into his residence hall, until he was finally in the comfort of his own room. Not at all realizing that he’d dropped and broken his glasses on the way.

———

It had been an intense two days since that strange jock pestered Charlie, and since he… well, got the body of one. He was still confused as to how he could just magically buff up like he did, especially since it looked like he’d been working out since he was thirteen and played football at the same time. Scouring through Google to find answers, there seemed to be no solution to changing himself back to his normal nerdy self. Not just that, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding like this - he was bound to step outside and run into people.

“Ughhhh, what do I do?” he asked himself.

Then, he realized there was one person he hadn’t seen since his change. William.

Charlie grabbed his phone and, with his meaty fingers, sent a message to his best friend, hoping he could have someone to trust with his secret.

CHARLIE: <<William, I need your help>>

The nerd-in-a-jock’s-body held his breath, waiting for a response, and sure enough, the text bubble showed up as William typed out his reply… one that poor Charlie was not expecting.

WILLIAM: <<sup chad? i was wondering where u went>>

Charlie was baffled, and in his shock, dropped his phone. Did that jock steal William’s phone? Was this some sort of elaborate prank that Jack and his buddies were pulling? His phone buzzed again, and he picked it up to see a new message from whoever had his bestie’s phone.

WILLIAM: <<earth to chad, bruh sometimes you can be so thick huhuhu>>

As he read this, he felt an intense fog fill his mind, obscuring his panic and attempts to make sense of the situation. A chuckle left his lips, and his hand covered them in waning concern. Charlie wasn’t dumb… was he? 

He put the phone down on his bed, and looked around the mess of a bedroom he was in: empty packs of chips, half-full bottles of soda and water, clothes strewn in every corner. Well, less clothes, more like shredded pieces of fabric that were once clothes that used to fit his lanky frame. All that survived were some of his oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans, which were more form-fitting on his now-muscular physique, leaving little to the imagination. That, and a set of gym clothes he found outside his door the night after his sudden second puberty. A tight grey Under Armour compression shirt that showed off his massive pecs, a pair of black five-inch inseam shorts that hugged his thighs, and a jockstrap.

If anything, his room resembled what he thought a douchey jock’s dorm would look like.

Charlie stood up, and he felt his head go woozy, the fog in his mind intensifying and concealing more of his usual train of thought. He sniffed like a dog, sensing there was an awful stench coming from inside his room. He first thought it was his clothes - sure, they had some cheesy scent to them, but not as intense as this one was. His shoes? Rank, but not what he was looking—OH, it was himself. Charlie’s pits reeked like crazy, his B.O. filling up the room and replacing the oxygen in it. Normally, he would wrinkle his nose in disgust, but with his mind in a daze, he let out another chuckle.

“Bruh, I reek,” he said, in a low, bovine tone reminiscent of Jack.

Fuck, Jack. That sexy motherfucker, with muscles that glistened with sweat, a handsome face that he could just kiss, and a dick worth sucking—

Wait, what??

Charlie quickly got dressed in the new gym clothes he got, not even bothering to shower or clean himself up, grabbed his phone and bag, and ran out of his dorm, pushing some of his fellow nerds out of the way. He made it outside, the sun shining on his chiseled face, and he began to saunter over to…

Wait, where was he going again?

He pulled out his phone, and looked through his calendar to see what class he had. He’d already missed his degree-required Python Coding class at 8:30 AM, History of Japan at 11:30 AM, and now it was past 2:00 PM. Charlie had… Physiology of Exercise at 3:00 PM followed by HIT DA GYM at 6:00 PM? As he regained some of his composure, Charlie was shaken. These two things on his roster were stuff a jock would study and do. He usually had Study Group with his friends at six… what the fuck was going on with him?

As the nerd felt some of the mind fog ease and dissipate, he noticed the same trio of girls from two days back, the ones Charlie flexed for, but this time they were accompanied by their frat bro boyfriends - all looked like they were cut from the same cloth: white, chiseled jawlines, built bodies. Charlie’s jaw dropped at the sight of these men, his cock was getting hard just by ogling them, and tenting visibly in his tight shorts. He was straight! Into girls! He wasn’t gay. He… he couldn’t be. He grabbed his bag and covered his obscene bulge, waddling over to the library to calm himself down and figure out what was happening to him.

———

William, meanwhile, was returning to his room at the Eta Theta Tau frat house, locking the door behind him as he pulled out The Jock Bible from his backpack. He smirked as he flexed his biceps in front of the full-length mirror on the wall, before sitting down and opening the magical tome that had granted him not only the body and life he’d dreamt of. He charmed his way, literally and figuratively, into Eta Theta Tau, the college football team, and even the Honors Society. He became insanely popular, grew in strength as he did bicep curls with 28-kilogram dumbbells, gained a rugged handsomeness by stealing some traits from his fellow frat bros, all of which made William more visible and prominent in the social fabric of campus life. 

The Jock Bible also gave the new frat bro, actually more like the Frat President, immense power to reshape reality and whoever he wanted to fit his new life. That included his crush on Charlie, soon to be his dumb boyfriend Chad. He laughed as he remembered scaring the shit out of his skinny nerd friend, taunting him into growing his muscles. They were getting big enough for William’s, or rather Will’s, taste, but he wasn’t so much into Charlie’s intellect. It kinda drove an unseen wedge between the two of them, and made Will feel dumb sometimes.

Well, with this next phase of the plan, that was about to change, and now he wondered what Charlie was doing with his text messages from earlier.

“Charlie, I can’t wait to make you my blissfully dumb muscle slut,” he chuckled as he turned the pages of the book to see what else he could pull off.

———

Charlie stumbled out of the library two hours later. It was fine, he thought, I can skip this class, it’s not even a class I remember signing up for. As he walked around, the golden rays of sunlight hitting his perfectly-tanned skin, he saw the jock who’d made him into an oaf of a man strutting in his direction. Charlie hid behind a tree, his breath picking up as he shivered nervously. His mind felt somewhat the same, but also felt a bit slower than usual.

“Who is this dude, and what does he want with me?” he asked himself.

He suddenly gasped as he felt a bunch of hands grab his arm, yanking him from his very obvious hiding place. Charlie’s eyes went wide when he saw who pulled him out - it was Jack and his group of bros, smirks on their faces as they looked at him.

“Yo, Chad, why’re you hiding from us dude?” Jack chuckled, patting the nerd’s back.

One of his posse, Dan, smirked. “Bruh, we got push day at six, you’ll be there, right?” he asked.

Charlie was even more confused, seeing his tormentors treat him as if he were like one of them. No, they were treating him as one of them. Panic rose inside Charlie, as it was quite the shift. Something felt really off, but before he could even speak his mind, his mouth spoke for him. “You know it, my man. Gotta get this chest so huge it’ll break a bra in half,” Charlie grinned back involuntarily, his hand cupping his pecs, which caused him to moan.

The group of jocks laughed out loud, as Jack held onto Charlie’s shoulder. “Man, you gotta control yourself, no one’s gotta know you turn yourself on,” he replied. Charlie stared at Jack, noticing that he was taller and bulkier than his bully. That was a welcome sight for him, considering he wanted revenge for the set-up, but there was something about Jack being smaller yet still muscular that Charlie was starting to find… hot. The posse sauntered off, cackling amongst themselves as the jock-nerd ogled them, feeling more confused than he did earlier. Poor Charlie, if only he knew…

The hours flew by, and before Charlie knew it, it was nearly six. He sat down on a rock by the lake, tears in his eyes as he watched the sun set, the sky filled with gold and the water crashing against the rocks below him. “What’s the matter with me?” he asked himself, rubbing his reddened eyes with his bear-like paws.

“Bro, chillax, you’re a jock now,” a voice bellowed in his head. Charlie turned around, trying to figure out where this jock-voice came from.

“Let go, man. No need for smarts anymore when you’re this jacked.”

His breath got heavier as he realized it was coming from his own head. “But… this isn’t me! I’m not a musclehead. I’m not friends with Jack. I’m not…” he paused.

“What, gay as a three dollar bill?” the voice, which he assumed must be the Chad everyone thought he was, asked. Charlie nodded.

“I’m straight, I’m into girls,” he stuttered out, feeling even more confused as his mind conjured up an image of the jock who’d started all this.

Chad chuckled dumbly. “Dude, chicks don’t really care about our muscles, but the bros? Man, do they want a piece of the action. Don’t you wanna finally enjoy life and get to fuck someone?”

Charlie gulped. This jock persona was right, even though it was hard to listen to an oaf, even if he was in his own mind. “I… I guess…”

“Then let go man, don’t be such a pussy. You’ll get everything you ever dreamed of,” Chad replied, and Charlie felt his lips curl into a jock-like smirk. One full of confidence, as if he knew he was the shit.

Charlie was now, though, now that he really, really thought about it. He had muscles now, and big ones too. He looked like he could play for the college football team as a tight end or a quarterback with his size. His face looked like it’d been carved by the ancient Greeks or Michelangelo, with how sharp his features were.`As for the python swinging between his legs? Well, I bet Jack’s couldn’t even compare.

“I just don’t wanna be—”

“What, an asshole? An arrogant douchebag?”

“Bingo,” Charlie sighed. “It all feels so surreal, but I don’t wanna betray who I am.”

Chad laughed. “Bruh, trust me, I’m just as dopey and curious as you are. I’m you, just hotter, more confident… maybe dumber, but at least I use my body and my mind for what actually matters.”

“So I’m just supposed to let go—what the fuck??”

Charlie screamed, as he suddenly found himself in the middle of the campus gym, and in the middle of a rep on the incline bench. His arms lifted the barbell with ease.

“How’d I get here?” he asked himself.

“You talked too much, little dude, had to get to the gym in time,” Chad replied as Charlie watched his body betray him, pushing and grunting through a few more reps on the bench press before setting the barbell down and sitting upright. “Trust me man, you, me, we can be happy if we choose to be.” Charlie stood up and saw his humongous body in one of the mirrors on the wall, his mouth agape in wonder while he flexed his biceps. They were the size of his former head. As he flexed, he felt… content. Strong as fuck. Happy, even.

“There we go, little dude, you and I are gonna become one sexy Chad by the end of tonight,” Chad spoke with Charlie’s mouth, and Charlie… well, he understood now. Maybe this was just what he needed.

———

Chad kept up the push day workout, grueling through incline bench presses, cable flys, weighted tricep dips, dumbbell skull crushers… the list went on. Grinding through each rep, Charlie felt his muscles pump up even more, sending a thrill of strength and cockiness through him, while Chad grunted, fixing his bulge every now and again. As the pair-in-one-body sauntered around each machine, they felt eyes staring at them - some girls found him hot, others found him disgusting when his B.O. wafted into their noses, while the other dudes… they thirsted over his physique, complimenting him.

“Holy shit, bro, you look huge!” one gym bro said.

Another one replied, “Dude, you’re the real alpha here.” 

Chadlie smirked when a cute twink named Jamie came up to him and asked, “Um… excuse me, how do I work out to look just like you?” The twink’s bubble butt bounced, and Chad just wanted to plow his fuckstick inside that cute boy’s hole. Charlie stammered as he tried to give some tips, but he felt his hand cup the boy’s ass, squeezing that soft flesh between his fingers.

Jamie blushed scarlet. “W-would you wanna head to the showers?”

Chadie nodded, a sly grin on his face as he picked up the cutie and strutted to the locker room, grabbing a pair of towels and carrying Jamie into one of the private shower cubicles. Charlie couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but Chad could. The jock ripped off Jamie’s gym clothes off his slender body, while the very slutty twink got to work, peeling the stud’s shorts and jockstrap to the floor and getting onto his knees. Jamie licked the tip of Chadie’s cock, the jock shuddering in pleasure as his little boy guided his ten-inch monster through his dick-sucking lips and into his oh-so-perfectly-tight mouth. 

“Fuckkkkk bro,” Chad and Charlie both moaned, their body’s hand grabbing Jamie’s soft, curly hair, letting his fingers run through each lock before gripping the twink’s head, then slamming his cock further down his throat, his lips meeting the base of his jock cock. Every inch of Charlie’s resistance to becoming Chad was wearing down with each thrust of his hips, precum dripping into Jamie’s throat as the twink cupped his baseball-sized nuts and massaged them so nicely, he almost busted one. But they kept going, and once he felt like his dick had been lubed up enough by the amazing sloppy he was getting, he pulled Jamie’s head off and lifted the twink up, turning him around and bending his sweet ass over.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, slut,” Charlie whispered seductively into Jamie’s ear. Or was it Chad? It was unclear now who was who, as the nerd began to let the jock into him, letting go as he plowed Jamie’s ass raw. The twink whined like a bitch in heat as he couldn’t hold on for much longer, as Charlie kept ramming his cock against Jamie’s prostate so hard that he could only see stars. Jamie came from his tiny nub, but Chad kept going, fucking the cutie as if he were just a plaything, grunting like a beast as he neared his own climax.

“Holy shit bro, I’m gonna CUMMMMMM!” the jock shouted, as he blew a massive load inside Jamie’s tight ass, filling it up to the brim and letting it leak a bit out of the twink’s hole as he slid out. In his mind, Charlie’s and Chad’s minds melted together in orgasmic bliss, blending together to create a cocky yet dopey, dumb yet curious, straight-passing yet gay-as-fuck jock - the Chad everyone knew him to be. He took a deep breath as he turned the shower on, washing Jamie’s lithe body, while the cutie lathered up his huge muscles, kissing a few times, before drying each other up.

Jamie grabbed Chad’s phone and blushed as he typed in his number. “Call me, Chad.” The twink’s ass bounced hypnotically as he ran to his locker, got dressed, and headed out. Chad chuckled, cupping his bulge. He left a missed call for Jamie to save his contact, then got dressed in his gym clothes again, his scent barely erased by the shower he just had.

As Chad made his way back to his room, Will bumped into him, a slight blush on his frat-bro face. He looked up into Chad’s empty eyes and dumb grin, and noted them down in his head. “So, gave in to the jock life, Chad?” he asked.

“Dude, it’s soooo chill. No thoughts, just lifting, fucking, sleeping. I mean, I still have some smarts, but like, they’re all workout and nutrition shit, you feel me?” Chad replied, chuckling like the typical himbo he now was, as his fingers ran through his hair.

Will smirked. It worked. Charlie, or Chad now, could finally be his. But not just that, he seemed taller and bigger than ever. He moved closer to the jock he made, and smiled. “I get you, bro. Though, I have a question. You still into chicks?”

Chad let out a boastful laugh. “Nah man, dudes are the only ones who can appreciate all this,” he said as he gestured to his muscular body, his right arm flexed to show off.

“Is that so?” Will asked, flexing his own pecs to show off. “Then, mind if I say, I find you fucking hot, dude,” he whispered, cupping Chad’s bulge sexily. However, shock flooded his face when the jock pushed him off.

“Sorry, dude. I mean, you’re hot and all, but I’m only into cute twinks,” Chad replied with a firm frown, before sauntering off.

Will was confused as fuck. The Jock Bible promised him that anyone he turned into a jock would worship him, become his boyfriend and servant. Maybe that’s because he hadn’t read the footnotes - the fine print stated that whoever the converted jock would fuck first would be his desired lover. That was Jamie the twink. Now, Chad was dumb as a pile of rocks, but clearly, Will was dumber for missing this, and the Jock Bible weaved its magic into his mind, making sure he was dumb enough to forget about its existence and its powers, leaving him powerless and too dumb for college, that he soon dropped out.

And as for Chad? Well, with Jamie as his lover, and with his dopey confidence in life, who wouldn’t want to be like him?

———

Hello, Tumblr! I'm back with a new story after a long while - this one's a commission I'd been working on for some time now, though life had thrown me a few obstacles in getting it finished. Hope y'all enjoy this one!

If you're interested in commissioning a story from me, see my post on commissions here! If you can't or don't want to commission any stories, you can also tip me over on ko-fi.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Strings Attached

You thought it would be that easy, eh? That everything would go smoothly? Damn, what a fuckin' dumbass, huhuhuh. Dude, please.

You bought that weird jock serum. The website promised instant change and total life improvement, bro! Thought it would help you lose that "loser status", so ya sunk like 200 of your hard earned bucks into the thing. It came in a boring-ass package, tasted like dirty socks and had you feeling like you were about to throw up for the rest of the day.

But then you woke up the next day and it seemed to have worked. Your basic twink body turned into a that of a cocky bro. Broad shoulders and chest, beefy arms, sculpted legs, a sharper jaw, visible abs (dude, did ya really get hard after seeing these in the mirror?), as well as styled hair and a barely visible stubble. Damn, you looked like a real jock, bro.

You were ecstatic. So excited about all that newly acquired beef, like a kid right after Christmas. You now had to learn how to put up a good show. You got a bunch of workout clothes, tried to learn how to walk like a cocky bro, you even signed up for a gym membership. Which seemed to work.

You got interested looks from people on campus. Others wanted to work with you on projects during class. And most importantly, jocks, bros and other cool dudes started approaching you. They wanted you - the new muscular guy in town - to be a part of their group. It felt like a dream come true.

Oh, how dumb you were. You assumed the physical changes were all the serum would deliver. It would beef you up a bunch, and then the rest of it would be on you, learning how to live a life of a college jock while still being the same guy you were a few days prior, the same socially inept gay loser. But oh boy, does it not work that way.

Guys like you are the funniest to watch. The transformation is so entertaining in the end.

Like a week after drinking the serum the rest of its effects caught up with you. When you woke up, the introverted twink was no longer with us. In his place was an generic arrogant douchebag, whose mind could only focus on a select few topics - his next workout, his next game with his brahs, getting newer gym gear, giving his arms a big ol' flex whenever he could and always looking for a hole to stick his leaking cock into. The mental side was now fully in line with the physical.

Cause we can't have a muscular jock who isn't a cocky and aggressive pussyhound, can we? Of course we can't, that's why the serum works like that. Dumbass. Now go lift some dumbbells or something bro. That's what you're here for, after all.

[clevertreephilosopher]

TG Day #1

TG Day, an event that happens at the beginning of every semester at colleges across the nation aiming to help participating students and faculty understand life across gender lines. These are their stories.

Jessica had always been the quiet, overlooked nerd—more comfortable in the library than at a party. But when TG Day was announced, something inside her whispered: Why not? She had spent years fading into the background��maybe it was time to see what life was like on the other side.

The moment the transformation ray hit her, everything shifted. She blinked at her reflection, stunned. Her new body was incredible. Broad shoulders, sculpted abs, powerful legs—she looked like she had spent years in the gym instead of buried in books. Testing her strength, she flexed in the mirror, grinning.

At first, Jesse (as she now called herself) planned to lay low. But that was impossible. Everywhere he went, people noticed him. Girls giggled when he walked by. Guys fist-bumped him, inviting him to the gym. And when he actually worked out? It felt amazing. The rush of power, the ease with which he lifted weights it was like he had been built for this life.

Within weeks, Jesse had completely embraced his new identity. He joined intramural sports, went to parties, and even caught the eye of one of the most popular girls on campus. Confidence came naturally now, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t just the “smart kid” he was the guy everyone wanted to be around.

As the semester neared its end, people started talking about the change-back day. Some were excited to return, others nervous. But Jesse? He grinned at his reflection one last time. Next semester, he’s doing this again.

[clevertreephilosopher]

The New Ethan Foster Part 1

Ed Calloway sat under the bright white lights of the NewLease Industries auction room, his fingers gripping the armrests of the sleek black chair. He was 43, out of shape, and worn down by a life that hadn’t turned out the way he’d hoped. A dad bod, thinning hair, and a back that ached in the mornings—none of it mattered now. He had one chance to start over, to trade it all for something new.

The Body Auction was a last resort for people like him. Permanent body swaps weren’t cheap, but the right buyer could cover the costs. Some people sought youth, strength, or beauty. Others, like Ed, just wanted a fresh start. A chance to escape crushing debt and years of disappointment.

The bidding had been lukewarm—middle-aged dad bods weren’t exactly in high demand—but then, a final bid came in. The moment the gavel struck, his old body was no longer his.

It wasn’t until the swap was complete that he learned who had bought him.

Ethan Foster.

His son’s best friend.

When Ed woke up in his new body, the first thing he noticed was power. Strength coiled beneath his skin. Muscles taut, lean, built for movement. His hands were steady, young, unscarred. He bolted upright, overwhelmed by the sheer lightness of this new form.

He stood and faced the mirror. The reflection staring back was almost unrecognizable—early twenties, sculpted physique, dark hair falling in waves over sharp cheekbones. The body belonged to a former athlete, someone who had lived fast and hard.

The door opened, and Ethan stepped inside.

He was still the same—tall, confident, that easy smile he always had when he and Ed’s son, Jamie, would crash on the couch playing video games. But now, there was something else in his expression. Something Ed didn’t recognize.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, his voice steady but searching.

Ed swallowed. “This is… a lot.”

Ethan smiled. “Yeah, it usually is.”

Usually.

That was when Ed realized—Ethan had done this before.

“You’ve swapped bodies before,” Ed said.

Ethan shrugged. “A couple of times. Nothing major. I just… wanted this one.”

Ed’s stomach twisted. He had been so focused on escaping his old life that he hadn’t thought much about who would be living in it now.

“You wanted my old body?” Ed asked, the words strange on his tongue.

Ethan’s smile faltered for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

There was a long pause. Then Ethan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really don’t get it, do you?” He met Ed’s eyes, and for the first time, there was something raw there. “I’ve had a crush on you for years.”

The words hit Ed like a punch to the gut. His mind reeled. Ethan liked me?

No—Ethan had liked Ed Calloway, the man he used to be.

“This isn’t some weird joke?” Ed asked hesitantly.

Ethan laughed, shaking his head. “Not even close. Look, I know it’s a lot. But I wanted a life where I could be near you. Where I could—” He stopped, choosing his words carefully. “Where I could be myself, without all the baggage.”

Ed’s thoughts swirled, but there was no going back now. The contract was binding. Permanent.

His old body—his old life—now belonged to Ethan. And his new life… well, that was entirely up to him.

[clevertreephilosopher]

What Will You Wager?

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman (this time with a @brains4brawn flair)

"So you've heard that I'm the guy who can turn brain power into muscle? Well, you heard correctly. You tell me how much smarts you think you can afford to lose, and I'll convert it into muscle for you. But I have to warn you-- it's a gamble."

"You won't be able to make small changes until you're happy with the results. My power only works once per person. Wager too little, and you'll barely notice any change. It's nothing personal. It's just how the game works."

"With luck, you'll wager the right amount. That's the dream, right? Not everyone needs to use their college degree on a daily basis, after all. Some men are able to win the body of their dreams, while still keeping enough smarts to enjoy all of their old hobbies. Maybe you'll be one of them?"

"Just don't get greedy. I can't offer you any safeguards. Wager too much, and I'll still collect what is due. You think it's a hard life, being an out of shape nerd? You won't have the same problems living as a mind-blanked himbo. In fact, you won't have any problems. You'll be too stupid to comprehend them."

"So that's my offer. If you decide to change your mind, I won't blame you for playing it safe. I've seen a lot of men ruin their lives trying to chase the body of their dreams. But if you're still willing to make that gamble, I just have one final question for you. What will you wager?"

[clevertreephilosopher]

Toxic Masculinity Among College Students

Klaus had no desire to be part of this kind of talk show. They had no real scientific merit and were purely designed to attract high ratings from less educated audiences. But his dean insisted. It was necessary for funding and donations, he had said. And so Klaus now sat in a semi-circular seating area, being wired up by a technician.

The host was obviously popular—though Klaus had never heard of him. Seated next to him were a college professor, a football coach, and a young man who embodied the perfect stereotype of a dumb college jock: broad grin, tight jeans, oversized muscles that he flexed demonstratively.

The producer counted down the seconds. Everyone took their positions, the cameras rolled.

Host: Welcome to tonight’s show. Our topic: toxic masculinity among college students. Our first guest: Dr. Klaus Bergman, a renowned youth psychologist with over 30 years of experience. Dr. Bergman, thanks for being here.

Dr. Bergman: Thank you for having me. It’s an important discussion.

Host: Let’s get right to it—how would you define toxic masculinity?

The jock next to him casually scratched his head, causing his biceps to bulge and exposing his hairy armpit. Klaus frowned. Had this guy not bothered to shower beforehand? Or at least used deodorant?

Dr. Bergman: Toxic masculinity refers to rigid gender norms that pressure men to be aggressive, emotionally repressed, and dominant. Many young men in college environments feel they have to conform to these standards, which can be detrimental to their mental health.

Host: Can you give some examples?

Klaus froze. Had the jock just casually scratched his crotch on live television? A wave of disgust washed over him. And yet… there was something else. A fascination?

Dr. Bergman: Of course. We often see behaviors like hyper-competitiveness, excessive risk-taking, and the belittling of emotional expression. Many college guys—uh, I mean, a lotta dudes—feel like they gotta act tough all the time, or else they ain’t gettin’ any respect.

Host: I’m sorry, did you just say—

Klaus and the jock locked eyes for a brief moment. The jock gave him an approving nod. Somehow, gaining this alpha bro’s approval felt… good.

Dr. Bergman: Look, bro, that’s just how it is, y’know? Dudes wanna be alpha. Nobody respects a guy who cries about his feelings, right? You gotta be strong, you gotta dominate, or you’re a total loser.

Host: Dr. Bergman, are you okay? You seem to be—

Klaus removed his glasses. They suddenly felt out of place. Absentmindedly, he kneaded the bulge in his jeans.

Dr. Bergman: Bro, quit the nerd talk! It’s simple—either you’re jacked, or you’re a beta. College is all about lifting, partying, and crushin’ it with the ladies. Or the bros. But dude, no eye contact, or it gets a bit homo, ya know? Ain’t nobody got time for that “mental health” crap.

His voice deepened, his shirt tightened over suddenly swelling muscles. Then it morphed into a tank top—the same one he had worn to the gym yesterday. And the day before. And before that. But hey, who cared about that kinda stuff?

Host: Wait—weren’t you just a psychologist?!

Dr. Bergman: Psycho-what? That’s for weaklings! I gotta hit the gym, bro. Gains don’t wait. WOOOO!

He lifted his tank top, revealing an impressive eight-pack, and high-fived the jock next to him. The host stared in horror as the broadcast abruptly cut to a commercial.

Klaus and Chad were a great team on the talk show. For a German exchange student, Klaus had already acclimatized incredibly well to life on campus and in the fraternity. And anyway, who could have anything against this toxic masculinity? And what did this toxic even mean?

[clevertreephilosopher]

A Wanted Exchange

When I first met Oren I would never have thought where I'd end up with this beautiful twink. We ran into each other at a club, a loud and hectic joint that had many sweaty, dancing bodies pressed up against one another in pinkish lights. I was there, carving out a space with my broad shoulders and muscular frame.

And there was Oren. He wasn't intimidated by me. He was bold, swooping right into my space, and then he was upon me. Grinding against me, I could feel his lithe body almost flowing around me like water. But there was an aggression there, almost like he wanted to throw his weight around, boss and bully me. All 120 pounds of his tiny body.

I was intoxicated right then and there. I wanted him. At first I thought it was just in the typical carnal fashion. But I realize now it was so much more.

I took him home of course. We tangled togther far longer than expected. He tried to push and pull me in ways his body and tiny muscles just could not handle. I was gentle. I have always been something of a gentle giant.

Growing up my father was a harsh one, and forced me to play football from 7, and all throughout the rest of my school career. Even in college, it was verboten that I quit. I remember coming out, well after finishing my degree mind you, and how he coiled back in disgust. I was his manly son, his juggernaut of an athlete. But inside I always wanted something else.

Which brings me back to Oren. Our hookup was not the end of our interaction. He found my gentle nature endearing, as I in turn found his domineering ways attractive. I so desperately wanted to submit to him, but our physical dynamic was just too skewed. I couldn't help but toss him around if I wasn't careful. And he hated being on the bottom, or receiving.

After weeks of trying, we realized we weren't truly happy. And in the breakdown of our disappointment, we both admitted what we wanted. He lamented his tiny, perfectly lithe body. I too bemoaned my broad, powerful body. It wasn't to say we weren't proud of ourselves, both being healthy young men. Rather, it was a sort of melancholy about not being able to experience what the other had, and admittedly - we were so envious of.

And so, when the advertisements for a scientific study came out, asking for willing subjects to try a new technology... we jumped at it. It seemed like something from a science fiction novel, but the way the doctors explained it we were properly convinced it was real.

They asked us many questions about our health, our relationship, and then what we wanted. Over the weeks we were subjected to different tests, they asked us the question we both were secretly hoping they'd put forward.

"What if this is permanent?" The nasal-voiced doctor had asked. I was alone, Oren being interviewed in a different room. I'd learn later he responded much the same as I had. But when I responded, it was an enthusiastic confirmation - that would be perfectly fine.

The day of the procedure came, and we were inserted into coffin like tubes, our heads covered in wires and such that looked like what one might use for a brain scan. I suppose that was part of the procedure, anyways. After the all clear was given, it took moments for me to black out. And in that time we were out, it was nothingness... a void.

But when I awoke, everything was ALIVE. I knew what to expect, understanding that I'd be groggy from the anesthetic. However, I pushed through the fog in my excitement. I needed to feel it all. Even before they opened the tube, I was feeling my arms, my chest, and then my face. Nothing prepares you for the sensations. There is no earthly equivalent to it... awakening in another persons body.

What followed was euphoric. Despite the initial hiccups, like learning that your brain still thinks you have limbs longer than this new body, or forgetting you are significantly lighter and weaker. Limitations that I never had before were daunting, at first. But then I came to love them. I was finally free to be the person I always felt inside. A man with a body more aptly described as pretty, and not rugged. With fingers soft and supple, unblemished by years of tackling and tossing a ball.

Oren felt the same, in reverse. We were hesitant at first to resume our relationship. It wasn't right away that we tried anything, sexually. But the first interactions were indicative of our blossoming romance. He would take my new, delicate face in his - my former - rough hands. Guiding my lips to his, where he almost hungrily kissed me. His bear hugs engulfed me, at times sweeping me off my feet. I was the willing waif, powerless to stop it, but desperately wanting it.

When we did finally return to the bed, entangled in one anothers embrace, there was a sort of epiphany. The realization that we got exactly what we wanted, and that looking back - albeit not much of an issue before - was perished. We did not need to even question it - I NEEDED to be Oren. And he needed to be me.

As for all the other details, since we began dating, we assimilated into one anothers lives. Our families and friends were never made aware of what transpired in that experiment. And save a few follow up interviews and information gathering sessions, the deal was sealed. Oren and I were never happier with our lives than now, when in truth... we weren't living our lives, but one anothers. How freeing it was for us to become the thing we always wanted. And through that, to find love. It was strange to kiss my former face, but knowing it was Oren behind those eyes, and happier for it, made it all too easy to love him.

I'm never going back.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Voodoo Brogramming

Ethan was built different, bro. While the other dudes at his college were chugging protein shakes, flexing in the gym mirrors, and hyping each other up with aggressive fist bumps, Ethan was out there spinning and twirling in the dance studio. He was a junior, a hardcore ballet guy, and had zero respect for the gym bros whose entire existence revolved around lifting heavy stuff and putting it back down.

But there was one dude in particular who really got on his nerves: Chad, the football team’s quarterback. Absolute unit. Biceps bigger than his vocabulary. Dude was more obsessed with protein powder than most people were with, like, art or philosophy. "Honestly, I wonder if he’s got more IQ points or more grams of protein in his shake," Ethan joked one night to his dance crew. The room erupted in laughter.

Chad, however, caught wind of it. And Chad did NOT take kindly to disrespect—especially from some artsy dude who wore tights. But instead of throwing hands or coming back with some weak insult, Chad decided to get creative.

He went to the one person on campus who knew about dark magic: Valerie, the goth chick who was always lurking in the library with her weird-ass books. "I need a Voodoo doll," Chad said, slamming a pile of protein bars onto her table. Valerie smirked. She liked chaos. Within three days, she’d stitched together a tiny Ethan doll—down to the smug little smirk.

And so, Chad began his masterpiece. Night one, he placed the doll inside a tiny home gym he found at a flea market. Packed it tight with miniature weights, making sure Ethan-Doll was practically rubbing shoulders with the other little plastic bros. Then he propped up an old phone and looped gym bro motivational videos all night.

The next morning, Ethan woke up sore AF. Like, whole-body-cramping kind of sore. And his dreams? Pure nightmare fuel. Just endless lectures about bulking cycles, supplement stacks, and protein absorption rates. His ballet training? Canceled. Philosophy class? Couldn’t focus. A simple walk across campus felt like he had lead in his shoes. Worst Friday ever. Thank god for the weekend.

That night, Chad took things up a notch. He set up the mini gym under a tanning lamp. Then, using a tiny syringe, he pumped the Ethan-doll full of protein shake until its little belly bulged. For good measure, he juiced up its tiny arms with a cocktail of steroids that sounded like a science experiment gone wrong. Lastly, he queued up some trashy reality TV.

Ethan woke up to the unholy stench of his own farts. His stomach? Bloated as hell. But weirdly enough, he felt... strong. Really strong. Instead of hitting the library, he made a snap decision: gym time. It was early, so hopefully, the usual meatheads weren’t around yet. Meanwhile, still half-asleep, Chad gave the Ethan-doll another protein injection. Ethan stood in the bathroom, rubbing his stomach. Damn, why was he so gassy? Then he looked in the mirror—and froze.

His skin was straight-up lobster red. But not evenly. Under his arms? Still pale. Like he’d been half-cooked under a tanning bed. He threw on a black gym jersey, hoping nobody would notice. And he definitely needed to see a doctor. This was NOT normal.

At the gym, Ethan hopped on the stair stepper, and the dudes next to him were deep in a convo about some trashy dating show. Weirdly enough, he knew it. Had he actually watched that crap? And wait—had he just thought of them as “cool bros”?!

After his workout, he tried to practice ballet. But standing at the barre, he felt ridiculous. What kind of guy does ballet, anyway?

By the evening, Ethan wasn’t feeling like hitting up the theater or doing any of the usual artsy stuff with his friends. He didn’t even want to see them—they’d just roast him for his weird-ass tan. Instead, he hit up the movies and picked "Criminal Squad 2." Nonstop action, tons of explosions. Absolute banger. Afterward, he swung by a sports bar. Didn’t take long before he got chatting with some gym bros. Turns out, not all meatheads were dumbasses—some were actually kinda hilarious.

Sunday morning, Chad was shaving his junk and pits while the Ethan voodoo doll was getting its regular steroid injections. Chad had an idea. He hocked a fat loogie onto the doll, then rubbed his freshly shaven hair all over its chest and face.

Ethan woke up at 10:30 AM. Damn, last night with the guys had been lit, but it got late. He scratched his chest. Shit, maybe it was time for a shave. Dude looked like a straight-up caveman. Though, he did love his beard—no way was he ditching that. He was a college junior; no one would take him seriously without some facial hair. He flexed in the mirror. Damn, his armpits were getting wild. Then, his stomach rumbled. He held his breath and let one rip. Hell yeah, his farts were legendary. He spent the whole day at the gym, feeling like a beast. And the dudes there? Solid crowd. After the workout, they invited him to a frat party. Solid Sunday, bro.

Chad kept up the magic—more roid shots, dunking the doll in protein shakes, feeding it a diet of trash TV and cheap fitness influencers. He left it under the tanning lamp for days, stuck little dumbbells in its hands, and finished off with a nonstop loop of softcore porn.

Did he seriously have an art history class today? Why the hell did he sign up for that? The start of the week was hell. He needed a dermatologist ASAP. Not just for the deep bronze tan—honestly, that was kinda sick—but also for the gnarly acne creeping up his shoulders and back. Also, why did none of his clothes fit anymore? And why did half of them look so… unmasculine? He needed new gear ASAP. But first, this dumb class. Hopefully, he didn’t pass out.

Chad kicked off his week at the gym. Later, he ran home to grab his laptop—still hadn’t showered, though. The Ethan doll was lying on the bench press, watching gangsta rap videos. Chad grabbed it and rubbed it deep into his sweaty armpit.

Ethan couldn’t care less that he got kicked out of class. Apparently, people "couldn’t handle the stench." What bullshit. He hadn’t even ripped one—yet. He took a deep whiff of his armpit. Smelled just fine. Bro de Cologne. He cracked himself up.

Chad spent the morning blasting the Ethan doll with ads from MassiveSoldier. He knew exactly where Ethan would be later. Sitting outside the mall, he doodled some designs on the doll’s forearms and neck, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long. You could hear Ethan before you saw him—snorting like a bull, stomping like an earthquake. And the smell? Dude was marinated in Chad’s sweat. Ethan spotted Chad and grinned. "Bro, lucky you’re here. I need some help," he grunted. "You got it, bro!" Chad said, leading him into the sports store.

A month later, Ethan had landed some solid sponsorships—one with a sportswear company, another with a protein brand. He’d dropped out of college and was working full-time at a hardcore gym. His fitness channel was taking off, but damn, his food and "supplement" intake was next level. Good thing Chad had his back. Dude needed it. 'Cause let’s be real—Ethan wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

The brogramming was complete.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Hey man, love your stuff! I was wondering if you can transform me from a white military officer to a younger, [browner 😅] enlisted guy. I'm having a hard time getting thru to this new generation and i'd like to see what it's like as an enlisted POC (Hispanic, Indian, Arab, etc.) to better understand their situation and lead better- thanks!

CLASSIFIED INFORMATION - FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY EXPERIMENTAL PROTOCOL - OBJECT 42 OFFICER: MAJOR S. KRAUSS START OF EXPERIMENT: 03.02.2025 LOCATION: SECRET

DAY 1 - 03.02.2025 08:00: Injection carried out. Substance: “Evol-9”. No immediate side effects. 12:00 noon: Slight increase in body temperature. Pulse 72, no further abnormalities. 20:00: Fatigue sets in. Minor muscle pain. Presumably adaptation of the organism.

DAY 2 - 04.02.2025 06:00 am: Wake up with a strong feeling of energy. Pain has disappeared. Physical performance subjectively improved. 12:00 noon: Physical changes visible. Skin tightens, muscle definition increases. Hair growth accelerated. Uniform on upper arms and chest tightens 22:00: Increase in strength measurable. Weight difference of 3 kg (increase in muscle mass).

DAY 3 - 05.02.2025 06:00: Skin pigmentation begins to darken. Hormone levels in the borderline range. Libido increased. Urgent desire to masturbate 18:00: Physical transformation advanced. Deeper voice, lower body fat percentage. Chest hair visible 23:00: Feeling of restlessness. Increased aggressiveness. Testosterone levels above average. Urgent desire to masturbate.

DAY 4 - 06.02.2025 07:00 am: Physical rejuvenation clearly recognizable. Estimated biological age: 25 years. Urgent desire to masturbate 14:00: Fighting stamina significantly improved. Skin still darker. Beard growth visibly stronger. Urgent desire to masturbate 21:00: Muscle building extremely accelerated. Weight gain +6 kg muscle mass in 72 hours. Urgent desire to masturbate

DAY 5 - 07.02.2025 05:00 am: Awakening with intense sexual arousal. Difficulty concentrating on work tasks. Masturbated several times. 12:00 noon: Body corresponds to that of a 20-year-old athlete. Speech behavior changes slightly. Response to change in character. Allegedly salutes lower ranks. Urgent desire to masturbate 22:00: Restlessness. Need for sleep decreased. Thinking more impulsively. Masturbated several times

DAY 6 - 08.02.2025 07:00: Voice changes in tone. Choice of words begins to change. “Brother” used as an unconscious expression. Masturbated several times. 18:00: Mirror image irritated. Memories of military training remain, but strange sense of identity. 23:00: Partied with other recruits and privates. Wanked off several times. The shitty language from the NCOs is so lame!

DAY 7 - 09.02.2025 06:00 a.m.: Woke up in the morning with the biggest morning boner ever. Cummed several times in front of the mirror. Physically in competition shape. Talk to NCO about using the gym 15:00: Thrown out of my quarters by sergeant. Asked what I wanted in officers' quarters. Report requested. I'm not in the army for shitty writing! 11:00pm: Assigned to basic training recruits. Don't know why I wasn't before. After dinner I hit the weights in the gym. Wanked off four times in the shower and fucked a comrade.

DAY 8 - 10.02.2025 07:00: Brooo, Digga what's up? Haha, I swear, this thing is awesome! Yo, I feel brutal, bro! Been to the gym for two hours. Now shooting practice. Safe, dude!

DAY 9 - 02/11/2025 06:00: Wallah, I need a workout. I swear I can't do without it. Fuck the protocol, bro. Comrades here are fucking rad. Gym, training, fucking. Awesome, dude!

DAY 10 - 12.02.2025 08:00: Should write a diary here or something. I don't give a fuck, bruh. The bros don't either. I'm fresh, you know? Training, fucking, life is rad, bro.

LOGGING COMPLETED - OBJECT 42 NO LONGER IDENTIFIABLE AS MAJOR KRAUSS EXPERIMENT SUCCESSFUL. FURTHER MEASURES UNDER CONSIDERATION.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Rugby Player

I love all sports. I try to collect someone for every sport. Here’s my rugby bodysuit. He’s young, but he still gets the job done. When I saw his powerful legs, I knew I was going to make an addition to my collection.

[clevertreephilosopher]

Humans of the Great Shift #3

Inspired by TG Swapping Caps series Humans of the Great Shift

When the Great Shift happened, I was walking through Shibuya, thinking about dinner. One moment, I was Kazuki Watanabe, a 22-year-old university student. The next, I was somewhere else—someone else.

I gasped and stumbled, suddenly heavier, my balance off. My hands—no, not mine—gripped a kitchen counter. I looked down. My arms were thicker, covered in light hair. My stomach bulged slightly over the waistband of sweatpants.

I bolted to try and find a bathroom with a mirror. A bald man with a round face and a beard stared back. Who the hell is this?

Panic flooded me. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t me. I had a girlfriend back in Japan! I had a life!

A phone buzzed on the counter. I hesitated, then picked it up. A message from who I can only assume is James’ partner:

“Baby, are you okay? I’m scared.”

I swallowed hard. My reflection—James’ reflection—looked just as lost as I felt.

The world had changed forever. I had no idea how to live this life.

And yet…it was now mine.

[clevertreephilosopher]

The Shampoo of Dreams

Greg had always struggled with his weight. No matter how many diets he tried or gym memberships he bought, nothing seemed to work. One evening, while browsing the aisles of a small, dimly lit shop downtown, he came across an unusual bottle of shampoo. Its label read: “ShapeShift: Wash Away the Old You!” Intrigued, he bought it, half-expecting it to be a scam.

That night, he lathered it into his hair. Instantly, a strange tingling sensation spread across his body. His skin tightened, muscles pulsed, and his reflection in the bathroom mirror shifted before his eyes. His round face sharpened, his belly shrank, and his arms grew defined. Within moments, he had transformed into the lean, athletic version of himself he had always dreamed of. Greg stared at his new body in disbelief. He tried pinching himself, but it wasn’t a dream. This was real.

The next day, people barely recognized him. Compliments flooded in, and for the first time in years, he felt confident.

Months passed, and the transformation remained permanent. He no longer worried about his weight or dreaded workouts—he enjoyed them now.

One evening, he returned to the shop, hoping to thank the owner. But the store was gone, as if it had never existed.

Greg smiled. He didn’t need answers. He had been given a second chance, and this time, he wouldn’t waste it.