#This is an illustration of an elongated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

axeeglitter · 2 months ago

Text

Nordic Heritage

Brandon shoved open the door to the darkened classroom, cursing under his breath. He had barely survived his history lecture earlier that day, zoning out through yet another monologue about Vikings and Norse mythology. Now, he was back after hours to grab his gym bag, which he'd left under his desk after falling asleep on another one of his boring teacher’s lessons. The only reason Brandon was attending this class was because he didn’t want to lose his financial support and be excluded from the football team.

The air was cool and still, but the room felt different somehow, heavier. Brandon ignored it, walking to his seat. “There you are!” he said while grabbing his gym bag. As he was walking out of the classroom, Brandon heard a voice calling behind him. "Fuck off Nerd' " He answered without looking who it was. But not hearing any answers, he paused, turned back but gasped and shrugged his shoulders when he realized there was no one. Instead, sitting in the middle of his professor’s desk a book was sitting, a massive tome, bound in cracked leather with a cover etched in swirling Nordic patterns.

An idea popped in Brandon’s mind and a smiled appeared on his manly face. “Try to do your annoying lesson without your stupid book fucker!” He said as he started to walk back to the desk to take the book. Curiosity got the better of him. He moved closer, leaning over to get a better look. The pages were thick and yellowed, and intricate black ink drawings filled its open spread. On the left page, a detailed illustration of a Viking warrior towered, wearing fur-lined armor and clutching a massive axe. On the right page, an empty space waited, framed by ornate borders.

At the bottom of the right page, jagged runic text glowed faintly. "Arroganse er menneskehetens undergang. Bare respekt kan fri ham fra det."

Brandon snorted. “What kind of medieval crap is this?” He ran a hand through his luscious brown hair, then reached to close the book before grabbing it. But as he did so, his fingers touched the empty page on the right.

The moment his fingers brushed the surface, a jolt of energy shot through his body like lightning. The runes flared to life, their golden light pouring across the room and materializing in sparkling dancing light swirling around him. He tried to yank his hand back, but it was too late. A force gripped him, holding him in place as the book’s light wrapped around him like vines, searing and unrelenting.

“No! What the fu… AAAAAAHHHHHHHH” His words dissolved into a cry of pain as the transformation began.

Brandon’s body convulsed, every muscle tensing as a deep, primal heat flooded him from within. His bones cracked and shifted, elongating and broadening with each sickening pop. His spine straightened, his posture shifting, proud and unyielding. His legs stretched taller, his shoulders widening as his frame filled out.

His skin darkened, losing its pale hue as a rich, sun-kissed tan spread across his body. It thickened, taking on a rugged, weathered texture, as though he'd spent years under the harsh Nordic sun. Thin scars began to etch themselves across his arms and chest, each one feeling like a memory branded into his skin.

Brandon’s chest swelled, his pecs pushing outward, followed by the rise of thick, powerful muscles on his arms and shoulders. His biceps ballooned with veins snaking across them, and his hands transformed, growing larger and rougher. His fingers became calloused, as if shaped by years of wielding weapons.

He gasped as his legs transformed, his thighs becoming trunks of solid muscle. His calves hardened, and his feet grew, ripping through his sneakers as his arches widened and toes thickened. The soles of his feet toughened, calloused and strong, like they had walked unyielding landscapes barefoot for years. His cut dick spasmed in his torn apart pants and he felt it growing longer and thicker against his hairy thighs. It felt like it was almost reaching his knee. Then he felt a pinching sensation around his cockhead as unknown to him his foreskin started to grew back and encompassed his ultra-sensitive cockhead, trapping him in a swirl of sensitive sensation and permanent leaking as his balls grew to huge proportions too.

Then came the hair. A tingling sensation swept across his chest and stomach as a thick mat of golden dirty blonde hair sprouted, curling and spreading downward. Under his arms, coarse hair erupted, filling his armpits with dense tufts that exuded a heavy, musky scent. His face flushed as the smell filled the air around him, raw, masculine, and overpowering.

He let out a strangled grunt as his jaw cracked and widened. His once clean-shaven face grew rough with stubble, which thickened rapidly into a full, bushy beard. Strands of golden blonde hair streaked with gold braided themselves in places, adorned with small, ornate beads. His nose straightened and sharpened, while his cheekbones became more pronounced, giving him a chiseled, feral look.

Brandon’s short, tousled hair unraveled into flowing locks, cascading to his shoulders in wild waves. Some sections braided themselves, practical yet intimidating. His icy blue eyes glinted with an otherworldly light, as if imbued with ancient wisdom and ferocity.

A low growl escaped his throat as his voice deepened, becoming gravelly and rich. When he tried to speak, the words came out in Old Norse, harsh and guttural phrases he didn’t understand but somehow knew.

His clothes dissolved into ash, replaced by fur-lined leather armor that clung to his broad chest and shoulders. His trousers reformed into woolen leggings tucked into sturdy boots reinforced with iron studs. A thick belt, adorned with runes, cinched at his waist. On his back, a round wooden shield appeared, its surface painted with intricate Nordic patterns.

In his hands, his gym bag started to shine and compacted on itself before turning into an axe, heavy and perfectly balanced, its edge gleaming with cold menace. The weapon felt natural, as if it had always belonged to him.

Brandon tried to scream, to resist the transformation, but the book’s power was unyielding. The golden light pulled at him again, and his newly created boots scraped against the floor as he was dragged closer to the desk.

“No! Stop!” he roared, his deep, guttural voice echoing. But the light enveloped him entirely, pulling him downward.

He felt his body flattening, his very essence being absorbed into the page. The pain was overwhelming as he was compressed, his muscular form twisting and stretching until he couldn’t move anymore. His vision blurred, and when it cleared, he found himself standing in a forge in the middle of an ancient looking village. He tilted his head and could see the icy blue sky above him and the crops circling the village. As he got up, he saw a serie of glitching golden glyphs briefly appearing in the sky and realized a faint frontier between the sky and the ground looking like a line of ink. Brandon looked at his hands and saw that there were different from before, more manly, ruggier, but most importantly, they looked like there were drawn. His eyes opened in fear as he started to understand where he was. He got transformed and sucked inside the book! His calloused fingers brushed the dirty ground and he gasped realizing it felt like touching paper. Brandon tried to ask for help to the people walking in the streets in front of him but every word that escaped his mouth were in a tongue he didn’t know but still was able to talk. But no matter what he tried to say, the words were twisted to say something totally different. “Where am I? What happened to me? Get me out of here!” he tried to scream one more time. But instead, his deep voice said to the men in front of him “Olaf min venn, hvordan var jakten i morges?” before starting to laugh with the men and walking back to his forge to start working on his axe. Brandon screamed internally not being able to control his body anymore as he was now stuck inside the book and forced to live the life of a respectful Viking.

In the classroom, the glyphs on the book were still shining in golden hue and after a moment, they stopped as the last sparks of golden light evaporated. The book snapped shut with a soft thud, the room falling silent once more.

The next morning, professor Engel strolled into the classroom, coffee in hand and copies in the other. He sat at his desk and reached for the book, flipping it open to prepare for his lecture.

As he reached for the Viking chapter, his eyes widened when he saw the double illustration page. A Viking warrior stood there, tall and imposing, his axe gleaming and his icy blue eyes burning with life.

“How curious,” Dr. Engel murmured, running his fingers over the drawing “I don’t remember having seen you before” he continued brushing his fingers on the right page illustration like he wanted to make sure it was real. In the village, Brandon was still working on his axe when he felt finger touching his sensitive skin. It felt like his whole body was getting jerked off and out of nowhere he felt cum erupting from his cock and soaking his leather pants as he didn’t even flinch and kept working on his weapon. “Hello professor” said Amalia with a cheerful tone in her voice. “Hello Amalia!” answered the professor as he tilted his head to salute her, leaving the book alone on the corner of his desk as he realized more and more students were coming in. He never noticed the faint movement in the Viking’s eyes, nor did he hear the muffled, desperate roar that echoed from deep within the page begging for someone to help him.

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Here is the story I wrote for @masterwolftfs for our exchanged. Hope you'll enjoy it. If a story exchange is something you would like, send me a message! Also, always feel free to send me messages and inbox if you have transformation ideas and would like to talk about it. See you!

#male transformation #my writing #mental change #male tf #reality change #tf #gay #personality change #dumber tf #dumbification #viking #time transformation #viking tf

180 notes · View notes