#gym bro tf
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The Basement
(All characters are 18+)
Elliot York had always lived in a world of his own making. A world painted in shades of faded Polaroids, sepia-toned photography, and the tactile hum of his beloved vintage film camera. At 30 years old, he'd never left his childhood home. His mother didn’t mind. She was just happy he was there, safely tucked away in the basement, where he spent hours surrounded by his photography equipment, sketchbooks, and the scent of old books. His life had always been quiet and unassuming—except for the occasional flare-up of frustration over his stalled career as a freelance photographer and artist.
The basement was his sanctuary. He had put up curtains to separate the clutter of his workspace from the cozy corner where he gamed, lounged on old leather sofas, and tried (and failed) to distract himself from the loneliness that gnawed at him. The art on the walls, his collection of vintage cameras, the scattered paintbrushes and half-finished canvases—they were all remnants of a dream that had long been abandoned. But Elliot had found peace there, or at least a dull form of acceptance.
But one evening, as he sunk into his usual routine—editing photos, sipping cheap wine, and scrolling through social media—something strange began to happen. The room felt different. The walls started to shift and hum with an energy that he couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t a good feeling, not the cozy, familiar vibe that usually calmed him after a long day. No, this was something else. It was unsettling, almost alien.
Elliot stood up, his bare feet cold against the concrete floor. He reached for his phone to check the time, but the screen went black before he could tap it. As if on cue, the lights flickered, then dimmed, and then everything went dark. The silence that followed felt suffocating.
Before he could react, the floor beneath him began to tremble. His heart raced, and the air seemed to pulse with something he couldn’t name. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash, a searing light that filled every corner of the room. He shielded his eyes, but it was no use. The glow was everywhere.
The sound of furniture shifting, re-arranging itself, reached his ears. When the light finally faded, Elliot opened his eyes to find that the basement had transformed into something… different.
Where his art studio had once been, now stood a private gym. The walls were lined with weights, punching bags, and racks of dumbbells. There was a neon sign in the corner that read “GET BIG OR GO HOME,” and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the opposite wall, with gaming consoles strewn across a low table. His leather sofas had been replaced with sleek beanbag chairs, and there were posters of famous athletes and cars decorating the walls. The entire room reeked of sweat and testosterone.
Elliot staggered backward, his mind scrambling to process what had just happened. He looked around in a daze. This… this wasn’t his space. This was some jock’s lair. It was everything he wasn’t. But before he could piece together what was going on, he felt a strange tug in the pit of his stomach. It was an almost physical sensation, a deep, primal force pulling at him, rewiring him, altering him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
And then it started.
His body began to heat up, the air around him feeling thicker, as if his very cells were being remade. His skin stretched and tightened, his muscles swelling unnaturally as the change began. Elliot gasped, but the sound came out wrong. His voice, once soft and melodic, deepened into something guttural, more masculine. The edges of his vision blurred as the pain started to radiate from the inside out.
His hands, once slender and artistic, grew thick with muscle. His arms were covered in a sheen of sweat as his shoulders broadened and his chest expanded. His abdomen contracted and thickened, forming the abs of a bodybuilder. He could feel the air leaving his lungs as the transformation continued—each breath a battle. His legs grew stronger, thicker, the bones in his legs cracking and reshaping, giving him the powerful legs of a jock.
As the changes continued, Elliot's mind was bombarded by new thoughts, new instincts. The urge to lift weights, to work out, to dominate, it all consumed him. His thoughts flickered and shifted, like pages turning in a book, each one erasing a part of his old self.
His hair was the first thing he noticed. The bleached buzzcut he had been sporting for the past year—decorated with delicate flowers and a symbol of his indie artist lifestyle—was gone. In its place was a thick, dark brown fringe that fell messily across his forehead, styled in the latest TikTok jock fashion. He ran a hand through it, surprised at how it felt so right to him now.
His clothing, too, had transformed. The oversized hoodie and vintage jeans he had been wearing were gone, replaced by a fitted, tight athletic shirt and cargo shorts that clung to his newly muscled thighs. He stared at himself in the reflective surface of the gym mirror. The person staring back at him was unrecognizable.
The most shocking change, however, was the way his mind worked. Elliot—no, the person who had been Elliot—was slipping away. His new name was Ethan. He knew that now. He felt it. The name Ethan York seemed to pulse in his veins. The old worries about art, about the future, about being different—all of that was fading. In its place, a new drive surged within him: sports, girls, and partying. The thrill of competition, of lifting weights, of kissing girls on couches like these… that was what mattered now.
Ethan stood there for what felt like hours, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. His entire identity was slipping through his fingers like sand. His old life—the life of an artist, of a photographer, of someone who had longed to find his place in the world—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It no longer seemed to matter.
A loud cheer echoed through the basement, and Ethan realized with a jolt that there were people here now. His friends—his new friends—were hanging out in the basement, lifting weights, laughing, playing video games, and throwing around crude jokes. One of them, a tall guy with broad shoulders and a thick neck, slapped Ethan on the back.
“Yo, dude, you ready for the party later?” he asked, his voice full of that easy confidence that Ethan now understood all too well.
“Yeah, for sure,” Ethan replied with a grin that felt so natural, it was as if he had always smiled like this. His old self—the one who had stared at the world through the lens of a camera, capturing fleeting moments—was gone.
As Ethan joined his friends, slipping into the role of the charismatic jock, he realized that there was no going back. He had been reborn. His old life, his old dreams, everything that had once been important to him, now felt hollow, irrelevant.
The basement—the gym, the gaming consoles, the posters of athletes—was no longer a prison of his own making. It was home. And for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt free.
He never once looked back.
The first few days after the transformation were a blur of new experiences, sensations, and… changes. Ethan, as he was now called, settled into his new life with an unsettling ease. At first, there was a part of him—buried deep inside—that clung to the remnants of his old identity. The artist. The creative soul. The man who had spent years living in his mother's basement, making art and dreaming of a different life. But that part of him quickly became overshadowed by the aggressive, hyper-masculine energy that now consumed him.
The more he worked out, the more his body seemed to crave the endorphin rush of weightlifting, of winning, of being the best. His muscles were constantly sore, but the pain felt good—it felt like he was becoming something greater, something stronger, something… dominant. And the more he grew in this new identity, the more he found himself disdainful of anything weak, anything soft. His patience with his old hobbies—photography, art, writing—waned. His camera, once a tool of self-expression, now sat neglected in the corner of his room, gathering dust.
Ethan started to feel that old life was for losers. The people he used to admire—quirky artists, introverted thinkers, anyone who didn’t fit into the tight mold of a jock—seemed… pathetic now. And in its place, a new breed of arrogance and entitlement bloomed within him. He was the center of his world now, and he knew it. The stares, the whispers—he loved them. He could feel the eyes of girls on him whenever he walked into a room, and it sent a rush of pride through his veins.
"Yo, Ethan, you gonna hit the gym today or what?" a voice called out as he walked through the basement. His buddy, Kyle, was sprawled across the new couch, his feet up on the coffee table, wearing a tank top that showcased his broad arms.
"Yeah, in a minute," Ethan replied with a lazy shrug, flipping his dark, messy hair out of his eyes. He no longer cared about the quiet, artistic moments he'd once cherished. Instead, he reveled in the shallow conversations, the jokes about how much protein they were consuming, and the constant flexing of muscles.
But then there were those moments, the ones that made his blood boil—moments that left a sour taste in his mouth, even in the high of his newfound popularity.
One evening, he was hanging out with a group of his friends—drinking beer and playing video games in the transformed basement, laughing too loud, throwing insults at each other like it was the height of wit. The mood was light, but there was something that cut through the laughter that made Ethan’s muscles tense, his jaw clench.
A guy he barely knew—Mark, one of the freshmen from the high school he still technically attended—had shown up at the party, wearing a tight shirt that clung to his body a little too snugly for Ethan's liking. Mark wasn’t a jock, not in the way Ethan now thought of as right. He was more on the geeky side, wearing glasses and talking too much about video games instead of football.
“Yo, Ethan, I didn’t know you liked photography,” Mark said awkwardly, holding a bottle of soda like it was his lifeline.
Ethan glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I used to be into that art stuff. Now I’m focused on real things, y’know? Like... working out.” His voice was rougher now, full of the newfound arrogance that he couldn't even recognize as self-loathing anymore.
Mark fumbled with his drink. "Oh, cool. I mean, I think it's awesome how, like, artistic people can still be jocks."
Ethan’s expression shifted immediately. His lip curled into a sneer, and his eyes narrowed. “Artistic, huh? That’s cute. You know what I think about art?” He looked down at Mark with mock pity. “It’s for soft people. You know, like… weirdos.” His words were sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. The others at the party laughed, clearly uncomfortable but complicit in the joke.
Mark flushed, visibly shrinking under Ethan’s gaze. Ethan wasn’t even thinking about it at this point; he was just speaking what came naturally. The idea that someone could be into photography and still be tough, still be masculine, felt so wrong to him now. He couldn’t put it into words, but his gut told him that real men didn’t concern themselves with art or sensitivity. Real men got girls, lifted heavy weights, and dominated life. His new life.
But it wasn’t just about art. Ethan’s homophobia had grown like a weed in a garden, spreading uncontrollably. It was like his new self had to rewrite every part of him, especially the parts that could be considered “weak” or “soft.” His tolerance for things that felt “feminine” had evaporated, and soon, even the smallest hint of something that was remotely “gay” or “queer” made his skin crawl.
At one point, when a guy from school—Chris—who was a bit more effeminate and openly gay, sat down on the couch near him, Ethan felt his blood pressure spike. Chris had always been polite, always too friendly, but Ethan had never given it much thought—until now.
"Hey, Ethan," Chris said, adjusting his hoodie and running a hand through his sleek hair. "You up for a game later?"
Ethan didn’t look at him at first. Instead, he took a long swig of his beer, his eyes scanning the room. "Nah, man. I’m good," he muttered, his tone dismissive.
Chris laughed awkwardly. "Alright, well… if you change your mind, you know where I am."
Ethan’s eyes flicked back to Chris, narrowing. “Honestly, dude, you should maybe… like, tone it down a little,” he said, his voice low, deliberately cutting. "You don’t have to be all... effeminate all the time. It’s a little weird."
His words hung in the air, like a heavy stone.
Chris blinked, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean?" he asked, his face shifting with confusion.
Ethan leaned back, his gaze hardening. "I mean... just… you're acting like you’re in a fucking musical or something." He chuckled, but it sounded hollow even to him. “You don’t need to act so… gay all the time. It’s just uncomfortable for everyone.”
There was a cold silence in the room. Mark, Kyle, and the others shifted uncomfortably, but no one said anything. They just stared, either not caring or too afraid to speak up.
Ethan didn’t care. He was beyond caring.
He was a man now. And men didn’t have time for weakness, for sensitivity, for anything that didn’t fit into the world he had molded for himself. The girl he had been flirting with earlier, Mia—she was all over him now, and that felt like the only thing that mattered. He wasn’t some soft, emotional artist anymore. He was Ethan York, and he was popular, and he was a man.
The party continued late into the night. Ethan and his friends played video games, traded insults, and knocked back more beers. The air was thick with bravado, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. But Mark—who had been pushed aside by Ethan's cruel words earlier—remained quiet, nursing his soda.
He watched Ethan, his old classmate, with a strange mix of fascination and unease. Something about Ethan had shifted, something deep, something unsettling. But at the same time, Mark couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of longing—a desire to be part of the group, to be part of what Ethan had become. There was a magnetism about Ethan now, something powerful and alluring. And despite everything inside him that told him he didn’t belong in this world, a small voice in his head whispered that maybe, just maybe, he could change.
It was then that the transformation began.
It started subtly, like the shifting of shadows, creeping through Mark’s body like a slow burn. He felt a wave of heat flood through his chest, his limbs tingling with unfamiliar energy. He was still sitting on the couch, his eyes locked on Ethan as if hypnotized, but everything around him seemed to blur. His body seemed to ache, his muscles pulsing as if they were being stretched and expanded.
Mark’s hands clenched, his knuckles cracking as his fingers thickened with new muscle. His legs seemed to twitch, his jeans growing tighter around his thighs as they bulked up, swelling with new strength. He gasped, his breath catching in his throat as his entire body seemed to reshape itself, and his thoughts—his old, nerdy thoughts—faded away, replaced by an overwhelming desire to fit in, to be powerful, to be strong.
His clothes felt tight, uncomfortably so, and with a sickening snap, his shirt ripped open across his chest as his pecs ballooned out. His face burned, his jawline sharpening, and his hair—once messy and unruly—now fell in a dark, tousled fringe that framed his face in the exact same style as Ethan's. He barely recognized himself. Mark’s body, once scrawny and awkward, was now a mass of muscle, solid and imposing.
He stood up, suddenly feeling taller, stronger—almost as if he was made to stand out. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on Ethan, who stared back with a mixture of amusement and pride. Mark didn’t say a word.
The transformation had taken hold completely.
“Yo, Ethan,” Mark said, his voice now deep and confident, full of swagger. His tongue felt heavier in his mouth, and his words came out with a new arrogance, “This is fucking awesome.”
Ethan smirked, clearly satisfied. "Welcome to the team, bro," he said, throwing an arm around Mark’s newly broad shoulders, the two of them standing side-by-side. It felt natural, as if this was how it had always been.
Mark didn’t hesitate. His old self—the nerd, the shy, creative guy who had spent hours tinkering with gadgets and buried in his books—was gone. In its place stood someone who had finally found their place in the world. Mark was a man, and he wasn’t going back.
The soft hum of the gym in Ethan’s basement was now a constant background noise in his life—weights clanging, music blasting, and the occasional cheer of a newly broken record. The basement had been his domain, but in the last few months, it had become more than that. It had become the center of his life, not just in terms of workouts and gaming, but in how he’d built the new life he’d always dreamed of—confident, strong, and undeniably him.
But the biggest change had nothing to do with the weights or the video games. It had everything to do with her.
Mia.
She was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked up under her as she flipped through a magazine, occasionally glancing up at Ethan as he adjusted his dumbbells. The space between them was no longer just one of attraction or chemistry—it was something deeper now, something rooted in trust and understanding. They had been together for several months, and while the world around Ethan had transformed beyond recognition, there was one constant—Mia.
And she’d always had a way of seeing beyond the surface.
“Hey, how’s the game going?” Mia asked, a playful edge to her voice. She didn’t need to say much to get his attention.
Ethan grinned, setting down the weights. He wiped the sweat from his brow, then leaned against the wall, glancing at her. “Crushing it. Of course.” He winked, his tone cocky, but the smile on his face was genuine.
Mia raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You’re always crushing it,” she said, her voice light but full of affection. "You need to teach me your secret sometime."
Ethan laughed, walking over and sitting next to her on the couch, his hand naturally resting on the back of her neck. He let his fingers trail lightly over the skin there, brushing away a strand of hair. “You mean the secret to being irresistible?” he said, voice laced with playful arrogance.
She snorted. “You really do have an ego now, don’t you?”
He grinned, but the cocky edge in his voice softened. “Maybe a little. But I’m not complaining. Life’s good right now.” He took a deep breath, feeling the quiet satisfaction of his success, but it wasn’t about the muscles or the achievements. It was about the life he had built—and who he was building it with.
Mia reached up to cup his jaw, her fingers gentle as they traced the sharp line of his face. She studied him, her expression softening. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “I can see that. But you know what? I’m proud of you, Ethan. You’ve worked hard for all of this. I see the difference in you.”
Ethan smiled, the weight of her words settling warmly in his chest. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you, Mia.”
She tilted her head slightly, still holding his gaze. “Maybe not. But you did it. And that’s all you.”
There was a silence between them—one of those comfortable, content moments that didn’t need any words. He knew what she meant. She wasn’t just talking about the physical changes—those were easy. What she meant was that he’d grown into a person who wasn’t afraid to be himself anymore. He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t, or hiding behind old insecurities. He was a man who had claimed his place in the world—and who had found someone who not only accepted him, but loved him for exactly who he was.
Their lips met softly in a kiss, one that wasn’t rushed or full of desperation, but one that carried years of silent understanding. They’d both grown over the past months—not just together, but as individuals. Ethan had finally come to realize that strength wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. And Mia had always been there, steady and real, pulling him forward whenever he felt like he was slipping.
As they pulled away, Mia grinned up at him. “So, what are we doing tonight? I was thinking we could actually hang out in the real world instead of this basement gym.”
Ethan laughed. “You mean… like a date? Outside of this cave?”
“Exactly,” she said, her smile wide and genuine. “Maybe we could hit up that new sushi place you’ve been talking about? You know, actually go somewhere without a weight bench involved?”
Ethan thought about it for a moment. He was used to the basement—the familiar pull of weights, the games, the comfort of his private space. But as he looked at Mia, at the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about something as simple as dinner out, he realized that there were more important things than the four walls that had once defined his life.
“Sounds perfect,” he said, reaching down to take her hand. “I think I’m ready for something new.”
Mia grinned, squeezing his hand. “You mean you’re finally ready to leave your little kingdom?”
Ethan chuckled, pulling her up from the couch and leading her toward the door. “Maybe. But don’t get used to it. The basement's still got a few more workouts left in me.”
Mia laughed, her head resting against his shoulder as they walked out the door together. She was right—Ethan had changed. And while the muscle and the confidence were part of it, the real change had happened inside. He was no longer the guy who hid in the shadows of his mother’s basement, afraid to show the world who he truly was. Now, he was the man who had built his life, step by step, with the strength of his own will—and with the love of someone who saw him, really saw him, for all of it.
And as he stepped into the world outside, hand in hand with Mia, Ethan knew that whatever came next, he was ready for it. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.
And he had someone by his side to enjoy it with.

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Bonjour, je vais commencer par publier ma première histoire sur la croissance. Je tiens à préciser que je suis débutant en matière d'histoire donc elle risque d'être assez courte et peut-être pas aussi excitante que mes prédécesseur.
Alan était un jeune homme très fin, sans charisme et peu viril. Il aimait les hommes et les femmes mais personne le remarquait. Il passait inaperçu et avait peu d'ami. Il se sentait faible et manquait d'assurance. Il décida de prendre de se prendre en main. Alors, Alan s'inscrit à la salle de sport à côté de chez lui pour devenir plus fort et plus musclé.
Alan était trop timide et peureux pour partir à la salle de sport. Il avait peur du regard des autres et il était agoraphobe. Alan se mit en tête de partir à la salle de sport 1h avant la fermeture. Il se dit qu'il aurait le temps de faire sa séance et qu'il y'aurait peu de personne à cette heure-ci.
Le premier jour à la salle, il était perdu. Il ne savait pas quel exercices il devait faire. Il y avait quasiment personne. Les quelques personnes présentes était concentrées sur leurs exercices. Donc personne ne pouvait l'aider et le conseiller. Il essaya les différentes machines de musculation mais les charges étaient trop lourde pour lui. Il n'arrivait à rien. Il se sentait frustré de ne pas réussir à soulever des poids. Il commença à rassembler ces affaires pour rentrer chez lui. Mais juste avant de partir, il vit un bel homme musclé, viril et transpirant rentrer dans les vestiaires. Il devait avoir finis sa séance de musculation. Alan décida finalement de suivre ce bel homme dans les vestiaires. Il fit semblant d'avoir oublié quelque chose dans les vestiaires. Il voulait absolument se rincer l'œil discrètement sur ce bel étalon. Dès qu'Alan rentra dans les vestiaires il sentit une forte de transpiration et de pieds. Il reconnu l'odeur de ce mâle. Malheureusement pour lui, il n'y avait personne dans les vestiaires, aucun bruit. Alan était persuadé avoir vu cet homme rentrer dans les vestiaires mais il n'y avait rien en dehors d'un short blanc posé sur le banc. Ce short blanc n'avait rien de spécial mais Alan était étrangement attirer par ce short. L'odeur était de plus en plus forte près du banc. Alan se rendait compte que l'odeur émanait du short blanc. Il se rapprocha du short, puis de manière inexpliqué il le prenait dans ces mains. Il était hypnotisé par le short. Il sentit le short blanc. L'odeur était incroyable pour Alan. Le short sentait la transpiration, le musc et étonnamment les pieds. L'odeur était tellement enivrante qu'il commença à bander. Alan voulait absolument porter ce short, il était obnubilé par le short et ces odeurs. Son rêve était de garder ces odeurs sur lui, toute la journée. Il s'enferma dans les douches, il s'est mit tous nu. Il commença à enfiler le short au niveau de ces jambes. Ces jambes grandirent. Il senta ces pieds grandirent et grossirent. Ces pieds sentait le musc et la transpiration. Alan n'était pas horrifié, il aimait cette sensation de chaleur et cette odeur le parcourir.

Il commença à l'enfiler sur sa queue. Au bout de quelque secondes, il se sentit sa queue croître. Il ressenti un plaisir immense traverser sa queue. Il se mit à gémir. Le plaisir remonta vers ces abdominaux. Ils commençaient à devenir aussi dur que du béton
Le plaisir monta jusqu'à ces pecs. Ces pecs devenaient proéminent et volumineux. Ces aisselles devenaient poilus et puante. Alan aimait cette odeur sous ces aisselles. Le plaisir monta jusqu'à sa tête. Une barbe commença à pousser sur son visage. Alan était imberbe jusqu'à présent. Son visage se remedola. Alan se mit à se branler. Il toucha sa longue queue sensible. Le plaisir devenait si intense qu'il se mit à éjaculer des flots de sperme sur le sol. Puis Alan s'est évanoui dans la cabine de douche.

Lorsqu'il se réveilla, il oublia tous ces anciens souvenirs à propos d'Alan. Il s'appelait maintenant Aiden. De nouveau souvenirs commença à émerger. Il se rappelais qu'il était un pratiquant de muscu et un ancien capitaine de l'équipe de lutte au lycée. Il était adulé par tous les garçons de sa classe. Il s'est tapé beaucoup de fille et beaucoup de mecs dans sa vie. La chose qu'il aimait le plus en dehors du sport c'était le sexe. Il aimait qu'on s'occupe de sa queue mais aussi de ces pieds transpirant. Aiden aimait cette odeur après la muscu. Aiden s'est habillé. Il ne voulait pas se doucher après sa séance de musculation car un petit minet l'attendait chez lui. Ce petit minet devait lui décrasser ces pieds de taille 46 et lui pomper tous son jus.


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Former Friend
As you walk through the gym you visit from time to time you see a face that you kinda recognize.
It's a random douchebag gym bro that's filming himself next to one of the machines, but his face... wait, isn't that Brandon? Yeah, that's him. But also... not him?
Because Brandon was a 5'8 twink, who spend his days dancing to Lady Gaga and buying new make up products.
This was a 6'2 neanderthal, who was currently playing with his dick and flexing his arms. But the face was too similar for this to be a mistake.
You decide to walk up to him, to maybe ask him what happened.
But before you say a word, he looks at you and stands up.
You stop and watch as he walks up to you, then looks down.
"fuuuuuuuuuck dude" His voice is low, and screams 'dumb jock'. "needed a liftin' bro for a while." He lets out a low, dumb chuckle. "Guess I found one. So sick, brah"
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Corey was a little embarrassed walking into the gym in early January. Last year, he had made a resolution to go to the gym more and it lasted maybe a month. He had done some classes, worked with a coach, but eventually life happened and he let his membership lapse. He still wanted to grow muscle, but habits take time to change.
This year he hoped it would be different. At the front desk, he saw one of the trainers who smiled and laughed, "Look who it is! Woah, man it's been awhile! Do you want to restart your membership? Or will you quit on me again!"
Corey turned red and chuckled, "Yeah, I know, hopefully this year goes better."
"How about we sign you up for our accountability plan? It's an extra $50 per month, but you're guaranteed results and sessions with a trainer. What do you think?"
Corey was going to say no, but was too embarrassed by the whole situation that he ended up agreeing. He filled out some paperwork, made sure his credit card was up to date, and then went into the locker room to change.
When he came out the gym was totally empty except for the trainer, who was standing and waiting.
"Ready to train?" he said. "Let's have a look here!"
Suddenly, Corey felt his arms lift up and the trainer took off his shirt. The trainer used his hands to massage Corey's body into different positions, having him flex and pose as his average body transformed into a thick, beefy gym bro. His mind went blank as it rebooted a few times with his new programming.
"So many guys come and go in January, but this is your year bro! Already looking massive, dude. See you around!"
That year, Corey rarely missed a day at the gym. For all he knew, he had spent years building up this body. The trainers often used him as an example and to promote the gym online. Every so often he'd just stand there to let the trainers massage his massive body. He was the most chill gym bro around who everyone could rely on. Dumb and dependable.
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The blue team only have Chan and a dream
#skz#stray kids#straykids#jyp stray kids#SKZ CODE LETS GOO#IVE MISSED SKZ CODE SO MUCH#red team is gonna sweep tbh#ok but putting 2min together just asks for chaos#they’re probably gonna cheat ngl#I have a feeling they’re somehow gonna pull through#tbh idk#as a BinChan bias#idk which team to root for#it’s so funny how they always gotta separate Chan and Changbin#probably due to this two being the gym bros and putting them together is an unfair advantage#poor Chan is gonna be stressed tf out#like I am 100% certain that red team is going to win#whatever it is they’re gonna do#but something is telling 2min are gonna sabotage them#bang chan#lee know#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#felix lee#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#a-talks#skz code#kpop
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💀
#the way I feel gym motivation when I’m not at the gym like bro come tf onnnn#it feels like the equivalent of motivation to get your life together at 3am#like tf can we do this at a better time???
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Jock'd
(All characters are 18+)
Cameron Hayes was a high school senior with two things that defined him: his love for biology and his passion for nerdy hobbies. He’d always been the type of kid who spent his afternoons reading biology textbooks, obsessing over cellular processes, and analyzing ecosystems. At 18, he was already planning to study biology at a prestigious university, and his life revolved around his love for science. But that was before one fateful night.
It all started when Cameron sat down to finish his biology homework, which was supposed to be a simple review of basic human physiology. As usual, he’d spent hours studying the material the day before, and now it was just a matter of getting the homework done before bed. His room, decorated with posters of scientific breakthroughs and his collection of rare fossils, felt like his sanctuary.
On his desk lay his open notebook, the textbook, and his phone, all with the soft hum of a lamp glowing beside him. He breezed through the first few questions—simple stuff. His mind, sharp as ever, was in its element. But then came the last question. It looked innocent enough:
"What's one form of exercise?"
Cameron didn't hesitate. He wrote down the first thing that came to mind: "Sports."
It was supposed to be a harmless answer. After all, sports were a form of exercise, right?
But the moment he finished writing, something strange happened. His head buzzed, his vision blurred, and an icy chill ran down his spine. He blinked hard, thinking maybe he was just overtired, but something was different. He felt... strange. His body seemed to tingle, like every cell was reconfiguring. He swore he heard faint laughter echoing in the air, distant, but unmistakably mocking.
Before he could even process it, his room began to warp. The walls seemed to contract, the posters of atoms and molecules turning into athletic ones, with images of football players, basketball courts, and weightlifters replacing his beloved scientific displays. A strange heat spread through his body, like he was suddenly in the middle of a workout.
His body itself was changing. His arms grew thicker, more muscular, his once slender frame becoming broader and stronger. His clothes seemed to shrink as his muscles swelled, his jeans tightening around his quads and his shirt clinging to his newly developed pecs. His hair, once a soft brown that barely fell past his ears, now grew short and spiky, and his face changed too—more defined, sharper, with a hint of arrogance.
He stumbled in front of his mirror, his heart racing in confusion. The boy looking back at him wasn’t Cameron Hayes. The reflection was of someone else—tall, strong, and undeniably attractive. His face had lost its nerdy softness, replaced by a chiseled jawline and a confident smirk that Cameron had never worn before. And most bewildering of all: the name that he now saw written on the mirror was no longer "Cameron."
It was "Kyle."
A surge of memories flooded his mind—new ones that didn’t belong to him. He remembered his high school’s football team, the parties, the beer, the girls that surrounded him, and the constant urge to be the center of attention. His brain, once filled with complex scientific concepts, now held only simple things like winning games, lifting weights, and picking up chicks. He felt... dumb.
Cameron—no, Kyle—gazed in horror at his transformation. The old him, the geeky, intelligent Cameron, felt like a distant memory, lost in the haze of his new identity. His brain just didn’t care about science or biology anymore. What mattered now was sports, looking good, and impressing people.
As he stood there, confused yet strangely satisfied by his new reflection, his phone buzzed. It was a message from one of the jocks, no doubt someone who’d gotten a laugh out of this transformation. He read it:
"Bro, you look SO ready for the football game tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how to throw a perfect spiral."
The words didn’t even faze him. Kyle just grinned, his mind only focused on the idea of tomorrow’s game. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared about homework. Hell, he didn’t even want to know anything about biology anymore. All he wanted was to hang out with his jock friends, hit the gym, and be the life of the party.
As he grabbed a basketball from his new collection of sporty gear, Kyle felt a surge of energy course through him. His muscles flexed, his chest puffed out proudly, and his confidence was sky-high.
He didn’t need to worry about anything anymore—no homework, no classes, no biology notes. His new life was all about being the king of the school, playing sports, and dating hot girls. And he loved it.
When Kyle walked into school the next day, every head turned. His former friends—quiet, bookish kids—now seemed like distant strangers. They watched in awe and confusion as Kyle swaggered down the hallway, laughing with his fellow jocks and getting high-fives from everyone he passed. He didn’t even remember his old friends' names, nor did he care. They weren’t part of his new world.
The old Cameron was gone, replaced by Kyle the jock, and that was just fine with him. There was no turning back now.
By the time Kyle walked through the halls of his high school the next day, he felt completely at home in his new skin. The sensation of power, of confidence, was intoxicating. Every step he took, he felt more sure of himself, more right in this new role. The people he passed seemed to admire him, their eyes following him as he swaggered down the hallway.
As he approached his first class, he bumped into Madison, the most popular girl in school. With her long blonde hair, perfect smile, and reputation for dating only the top athletes, Madison was everything Cameron had once admired from a distance. Now, she was smiling at him, and her eyes had a sparkle that made Kyle feel like he was on top of the world.
"Hey, Kyle," Madison said, her voice low and flirtatious. "I saw you at the gym yesterday. You’re looking even bigger than last week."
Kyle grinned, puffing out his chest a little. "Yeah, just trying to stay ahead of the game, you know? Got to keep the muscles strong if I want to keep winning."
Madison giggled, her hand brushing his arm as if she was already claiming him. "I like a guy who works hard," she said, clearly impressed by his new look—and more so by his jock swagger.
Kyle’s new brain buzzed with excitement, and he leaned in a little, his voice oozing confidence as he responded, "Well, I don’t just work hard, babe, I dominate."
It felt so natural. Too natural.
Madison laughed again, this time a little more flirtatiously, and Kyle felt the old Cameron—deep down, in the quiet corners of his mind—shudder. But he didn’t care. He was Kyle now.
The bell rang, and as they made their way to class, Madison slid her arm through his, leaning in close to him as they walked. Kyle smiled smugly, enjoying the attention, enjoying the way people looked at them with envy.
Later that afternoon, Kyle met up with his jock buddies in the cafeteria, his tray piled high with a ridiculous amount of food. They were already at their usual table, laughing and tossing around their footballs. Kyle was one of the guys now, and it felt like he was finally where he belonged.
"Yo, Kyle!" Tom, the quarterback, shouted when Kyle walked up, slapping him on the back. "Madison was totally checking you out, man. You’ve got her hooked. She was practically drooling over you."
Kyle chuckled, running a hand through his freshly spiked hair. "Yeah, she’s been eyeing me for a while. What can I say? I’m irresistible."
His friends all laughed in agreement, nodding enthusiastically.
"Dude, you’ve got everything," another guy, Mike, added. "The muscles, the looks, the girls. Seriously, it’s like you were born to be a jock."
Kyle threw his head back, laughing, and for a moment, he actually felt like he was on top of the world. "Hell yeah, man. That’s because I don’t waste time on stupid stuff. I’ve got priorities, you know?"
The guys nodded in agreement, each of them trying to one-up each other with stories of parties, girls, and who’d bench-pressed the most at the gym.
Kyle’s new personality had already become a perfect fit for this crowd. He found himself throwing out one-liners about how much he hated studying, mocking anyone who wasn’t in sports, and bragging about how he could easily pick up a girl just by showing off his abs.
The old Cameron—the one who loved discussing the complexities of plant biology and how to identify different species of insects—seemed like a memory from a distant life. Now, he was the guy cracking jokes about how much homework he’d skipped or how much he could drink without puking.
And as the conversation shifted to tonight’s football game, Kyle grinned even wider. This was it. The peak of high school glory.
"After we crush these guys on the field, we’re gonna hit up Joey’s party," Kyle said with a smirk. "You know, get some drinks, talk to some babes. Maybe even let them take a selfie with me."
The guys laughed and cheered, high-fiving each other. They didn’t even seem to care that the game wasn’t for a few hours. They were all already living for the after-party, and that was enough.
And then, as if on cue, Madison showed up, leaning in from behind and slipping her arm around his waist. "Hey, Kyle," she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready for tonight? You can show me how many push-ups you can do with me on top of you."
The table erupted in hoots and laughs, and Kyle felt an unfamiliar sense of pride flood him. Madison was his. She was smiling at him, wanting him, and all of his jock friends were jealous.
"Yeah," Kyle replied coolly, "I think tonight’s gonna be a good night."
And just like that, he realized: he didn’t care anymore. The old Cameron, the one who loved biology and was obsessed with books, was a distant, pointless memory. What mattered now was sports, muscles, parties, and making everyone around him know that he was the king of this school.
As Madison kissed him on the cheek, her fingers tracing his abs, Kyle couldn’t help but smirk. This was the life. And there was no going back. Not that he wanted to.

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Oh good we’re at the “I’m religious now” point of whatever the fuck my brother is doing
#bro is spouting anti trans shit rn and my mother is shooting it tf down#gym junkie to piece of shit pipeline is real
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Enforcing The Bro Code
Trent was livin’ the high life. Living in the best frat house on campus, with the best bros on campus, partying hard and working out all day. Life was good for Trent, especially with his best bro around. Colt was a party animal and a damn good lifter, which made him a perfect brah to keep around.
There was only one issue. Colt was gay. Of course, Trent has no issue with that, he wasn’t some dumb homophobic asshole, duh. But still, there was something weird about a frat bro, especially a jacked bro like Colt, to not be thinking of pussy every day, right? Every time he mentioned going on a Grindr hook up or commenting about ”that one hot bro” that attended their gym, Trent cringed a bit. This didn’t fit with his view of the frat bro life. Of course, many bros fucked around with each other from time to time, but they didn’t talk about it, didn’t boast about sticking a dick into another dude’s ass. That was like, against the bro code and stuff. In the end though, Trent’s loyalty to his best bro was more important, so he didn’t say anything.
Although.
A while after Colt’s coming out, Trent began wondering. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and he knew that - his brain was made for football and lifting, not for complex analytical thought, but he started thinking if there was any way to gently nudge Colt to follow the supreme rule of the bro code, no homo bro. His bro wasn’t the smartest guy in the frat house either, a textbook example of a meathead, so maybe if he just showed him the true purpose of a bro, Colt would adjust and conform to the standard. Yeah, he’d show him some great pussy and get his brain into straight mode! Trent would just need to wait for the best moment to strike, when Colt’s mind would be the most malleable.
The opportunity came one evening when Colt and Trent were coming back from a party some hockey bros threw at their place. Colt was visibly drunk and talking about the most random shit while leaning on Trent for support. As they neared their house Trent studied Colt and when they came to the door a plan quickly formed in his mind. He maneuvered Colt through the door, but instead of guiding him to his room, Trent grabbed his best bro and took him to his own bedroom. There he grabbed a chair from his desk and put it in the middle of the room, then asked Colt to sit in it. The drunk jock obediently followed the suggestion and sat down, grinning like an idiot with a bit of drool leaking from his mouth.
”kay, bruh, what am gonna do is a bit extreme, but it’s for yer own good, ya get me brah?” Trent looked into Colt’s eyes and the other bro nodded his head and chuckled. “so like, just stay here, don’t panic n’ let me do my thing” Trent then turned around and grabbed a football helmet, which he put onto Colt’s head. The helmet had seen better days and had a smelled faintly of sweat, but this was what Trent wanted - to get Colt’s brain surrounded by manly shit so that the whole process could go smoother.
Next, Trent finished the setup for his bro’s realignment. He put a laptop in front of Colt’s face and loaded the first video. It was some random gay porn, copied from the first link Trent stumbled upon cause like, he wasn’t gay or anythin’ so he couldn’t go any further than that. A pair of guys appeared on screen, a hunk fucking some twin into the mattress and Colt seemed really into it, which was, for now, good. Trent’s plan was going to work. His bro was getting agitated by the experience, his cock hardening under his gym shorts and he began grinding his hand against it.
”Nah dude” Trent jumped up to him and grabbed his hand. “Ya can’t do it yet. Gotta wait for the right time dude” He let the video play for a few more moments, making sure that Colt was hard and horny. When he was absolutely sure this was the case he quickly swapped the porn for one of his favorite vids of a bro type guy eating out a chick with awesome tits. As the sound of female moans filled the room, Trent grabbed Colt’s hand again and put it on the visible bulge in his shorts.
“That’s the stuff ya should jack off too, bro. Cause like, no homo. Right bro?” Colt didn’t respond with words, but he grunted and started once again grinding his hand over his hard cock. For a moment at least. Because a minute later he looked at Trent with a furrowed brow.
”bruuuuuuuuh, like… no chick…. that vid… before…. hooooot brah”
Trent groaned. Fuck, he didn’t expect things to go perfectly smooth, but still… damn. But he was going to survive this. It was all gonna still work out in the end. Trent went back to the gay vid for a moment, which woke up Colt’s dick. But as the other bro kept jacking off, Trent leaned over next to him and started whispering with a stern tone of voice.
”dude, ya see this shit? so fuckin’ gay. not like us bro, nah, we’re real bros, and ya know dude, no homo bro. yer a real jacked bro, and no jacked bro looks at gay shit. like man, no homo bro, ya get me, right dude?” As he kept talking, Trend once again switched the video playing on the laptop, going back to the bro destroying a chick’s pussy with his mouth, then moving onto good ol’ fucking. To assure that Colt didn’t relapse, Trent held his bro’s hand to make sure the other jock kept jacking off while also checking that his eyes stayed glued to the screen. All throughout this he kept talking to Colt, improvising a hypno-sounding mantra, repeating the sacred phrase “no homo, bro” over and over again.
”Yeah dude, look at this shit, look at that bruh destroyin’ that wet pussy. cause like ya ain’t no homo, bro, and ya see how fuckin hot this shit is. this ain’t none of that homo shit, nah, this is prime alpha bro stuff, right here dude.”
That seemed to lead to results. Colt’s enthusiasm didn’t disappear after Trent switched back to straight porn, and his dick was just as hard as before. After a while Trent’s help was no longer necessary as Colt sloppily took off his shorts and was now jerking off at full blast. Trent kept on going with his whispers to keep Colt in that trance-like state for as long as possible, all with the goal of getting Colt’s dick to understand the message - that a bro could only get turned on by pussy.
The whole process lasted for an hour. Trent came prepared, with a whole playlist of the hottest vids he knew of so that Colt’s horny bro brain could be overwhelmed with images of straight sex, of a real bro like him doing the only proper thing - sticking his cock into a hot chick’s pussy.
Around halfway through the fifth clip it finally happened. Colt came, covering his Under Armour briefs with his cum, while watching straight porn. Trent fist-pumped in the air and clapped Colt on the back.
”fuck yeah dude, now ya know how good it feels to be a normal bro, not any of that homo shit” He chuckled as he saw his best bro look at him with a confused look. “kay, ya pussyhound, let’s get ya to yer room” Trent grabbed his friend and helped him walk over to his bedroom, where he collapsed onto his bed still wearing the sum-stained boxer briefs.
So the plan seemed to be working. Now Trent just had to make sure that his “session” with Colt had the desired long-term effect. And the first signs were quite promising. Colt hadn’t mentioned hooking up with a guy at all over the following week, which was unusual for him, as he was one horny bastard and was usually very eager to share stories of his sexual conquests or general comments about how much he needed to fuck a random guy. Now, there was none of that and when prompted, Colt just avoided the topic, seemingly surprised it even came up.
The big break came about two weeks later when Trent mentioned going to bed with a girl from a sorority house close to them and Colt commented that he’d do the exact same thing if he had the chance. This was huge. Trent’s best bro finally joining in on the banter about hot chicks. It didn’t stop there. From that point on the frequency of comments from Colt concerning his sex drive returned to normal but they were now all concerned with women. And when Trent heard from another frat bro that Colt hooked up with a chick from the cheerleading team he officially confirmed success. His best bro was now fully aligned with the bro code. Fuck yeah dude!
no homo, bruh!
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Herculean Gains: Ginger Beast Edition
Yo new request for another Herculean Gain transformation bruhs this time from @rowdy317 so lets see how he changes bruhs. Enjoy!
Rowdy adjusted his glasses nervously as he stepped into Herculean Gains. His brown hair was a little messy, and his oversized hoodie made him look even smaller than he was. He wasn’t the gym type—he was a soon-to-be engineering graduate, always buried in books, calculations, and late-night coding sessions. But something inside him was… restless.

He had read about this gym online—how it transformed men into absolute beasts. The rumors seemed ridiculous, but something drew him here anyway.
And then, the legend himself appeared.
“Yo, little dude, what’s up?”
Rowdy turned and froze. Standing before him was Hercules Gold, a gym god of mythic proportions. Golden skin, massive pecs, arms like boulders, and a smirk that oozed confidence. His tank top barely contained him, and his gym shorts left nothing to the imagination.
“I—uh—” Rowdy stammered, overwhelmed.
Hercules grinned. “Bro, you came to the right place. You got that look, man. You wanna be huge, don’t you?”
Rowdy hesitated, then nodded. “…Yeah.”
Hercules clapped him on the back. “Say no more, lil’ dude. You need Himbo Juice.”
From nowhere, he pulled out a massive golden shaker, filled with thick, glowing liquid. “Special Ginger Beast edition. Extra cinnamon for peak hair growth.”

Rowdy gulped. “Is it safe?”
Hercules laughed. “Bro. Just drink.”
Rowdy took a deep breath and chugged it.
BOOM.
The change was instant. Heat flooded his body, and then—growth.
His arms exploded outward, thin limbs stretching and bulging with thick, heavy muscle. His hoodie tightened, then ripped apart, revealing swelling pecs covered in a thick layer of fiery red chest hair. His abs carved themselves into an eight-pack as his waist thickened with raw power.
His legs ballooned, jeans shredding into scraps as tree-trunk thighs burst free. His sneakers stretched and morphed into massive gym shoes fit for a beast.
His brown hair lightened, then blazed into a bright, fiery red, cascading into a wild, luscious mane. His face sharpened, his timid features shifting into a smug, arrogant smirk. His glasses slipped off, no longer needed.
His mind… slowed.
“Uh… bro… I feel so huge…” Rowdy muttered, flexing.
Hercules grinned. “Welcome to the Himbo Life, Rowdy the Red Beast.”
Rowdy just laughed, admiring himself in the mirror. No more thinking. Just flexing, lifting, and looking insane.
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Wanna a tf then ask away with what ya want (more info the better) or DM me with it bros, i will do my best on the tf you want, time to transform mah dudes
#male tf#jockification#male transformation#himbofication#himbo juice#himbo tf#muscle tf#ginger tf#Herculean Gains#Herculean Gains Beast Ginger Edition#ai muscle vid#ai muscle#nerd to jock#ginger muscle
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Chauffeur Swap
Another epistolary TF ! Cocky office worker to an equally cocky gym bro, trait swap + IQ Drain aplenty -Occam
Monday May 6th
Morning
I’m beyond thrilled that I’m finally being looked at for a promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this company ever since I graduated and I am not going to let this chance slip through my fingers. It’s such a good gig, in the week leading up to them filling the position they’re letting us use the company’s chauffeurs as just one little hint of the luxury this promotion will afford us.
At least, that’s what I thought before my driver arrived to pick me up and I saw what a slob of a man my driver was! I mean my word! I thought it was a prank or something else untoward! I’m sure he could tell too, I could not muster even a shy smile, nothing to do but grimace. God and that was before I got in! He must have just been an Uber hired or something because it smelled like a locker room in there! Truly vile!
God willing this is a one off occurrence, hate to get the oaf in trouble. Though judging by the state of his hygiene though he clearly needs to be taught a lesson somehow! I mean even with this job I couldn't afford to buy cologne enough to hide that stink- perhaps some dog-strength febreze- Ha!
Evening
Godddd fuck! The last thing I needed after such a stressful day was to be greeted by that animal’s face- worse yet, his SCENT! I underestimated just how grueling this interview charade would be. It is just one final hurdle to the big leagues though. I will leave petty contrivances like suffering through this unpleasant car ride behind.
Just to make the time pass with greater speed I put forth some small talk. Not like I could hold my breath near long enough to make a difference, and it couldn’t hurt to vent about what a hassle the day had been hm? After this though he started talking about himself and fwoh- could I not care less about whatever surely protein-fart based drivel or beer-brained diatribe he launched into.
Perhaps this is unfair, I did not deign to listen to him. So perhaps he’s better than he seems. But who could blame me, sitting in that car was punishment enough to earn me tuning him out. And! And! For him to have the benefit of the doubt surely he could at least wear deodorant! Hm. Unless he is trying? God that would be depressing, to be so, ugh- I continue to hold out hope I never see him again
Tuesday May 7th
Morning
Mm, I simply must develop a better poker face if I am to continue to suffer in this odor for the week, god forbid even longer- I have prepared accordingly however, yesterday no one mentioned it at work but I swear I kept smelling it, him, all day? Same when I got home, just everytime I calmed down from work bam! I smelled this horrid car ride. I am bringing my cologne to work with me, I plan to put it at lest once more when I arrive at work.
It’s just, Why is this my problem right! I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t see why I have to suffer because of it right? I should not have to deal with someone like this, he’s supposed to be working for me. I uh, it’s not like I think I’m better than him I just, well I am better than him. Hm, I lost my train of thought.
Ugh, I keep spacing out today- I’m sure it has to do with my twice-daily rides with, hm. I don’t even know his name. It’s? You know I don’t care. I just need to take it easy, I’m not letting this fucking dude-bro pitstain of a man bother me this much! I’m getting my bag and he is not worth a second further of my, uh, attention.
Evening
I have a headache and I don’t know how it is his fault but it has to be. This whole thing is setting me on edge, I need to chill about Ben. That’s right Ben! I got his name, I actually told him about my headache and he told me that he usually meditates to clear his mind- which crazy that someone so, despite all appearances, mindful treats his body like a sty but- Well not a sty I suppose, or at the very least a well built one-
Ah, that’s not quite appropriate is it. God he is hot though. Honestly sitting there just breathing in his, uh, scent, helped with the headache. Wait no, it was the meditation, God, why can I not stop thinking of his fucking B.o. My headache was gone but now I feel I’m beginning to run a fever, or at the very least I need to turn down the AC or something-
Better not affect my work tomorrow.
Wednesday May 8th
Morning
Not gonna be a good one. I fucking woke up late which ive literally never done before! I barely got myself up and ready in time and didn’t realize until the car but I didn’t bring my cologne with me. It turned out to be the least of my problems however as when I got in his car I fully spilled my coffee all over the backseat. Hopefully this will mask his putridity because I now have to sit in the front with him for the ride.
He must know. He has to know it has to be some kinda sick, uh, fetish or something. Its untendable untenable. god get your shit together Jacob. Its so hard to focus on anything else now that Im sitting right by him. I need to talk to someone about this, fuck its like hes exposing his pits on purpose. He wants me to stare at him, i bet. Bet he gets some sort of sick rise out of me. Im sure him and all the other chauffeurs probably get together and jack off about how repulsive and, uh, strong they all are.
God Fuck! Get me out of this car im losing my mind! Need to, ill just get some work done on the commute, should help i think. God its getting hot in here again or something, so help me if this fucker starts actively sweating im gonna lose it
Evening
i just couldnt get anything done today i dont know what was fucking up dude? it was just so hot in there and i mustve forgotten to put deodorant on this morning, people kept complaining but i didnt even notice? i guess i was sweating more than usual, but like, it was so hot in that office and my clothes felt weird, tight almost. As if tho, lol im sure no one even really noticed that i was off.
OH speaking of, Ben really put himself together on the ride home today. He was wearing a button up and everything, must have seen how nice im living and got his shit together! Maybe ive been to hard on the douche? nah car still smelled like shit haha! Or i think it did? didnt really notice it until like halfway thru?
Fuck my clothes are so tight all of a sudden, godd its so hot actually. I look fucking huge in this tiny little monkey suit- almost like Benjamin ha- as if id stoop so low, even if i started getting massive not like id be dum enough to be on his level lol
Thursday May 9th
Morning
Fuckin couldnt find ANYTHING this morning dude! it was like someone came in and took or hid everything i need for work today. ended up having to just fuckin leave for the car without a suit jacket- pretty sure ive got an extra in my office tho so were chill there. mm probably shouldve shaved tho lol
Oh yeah the files! i had some reports that i needed to bring in but totally couldnt find them! Turns out benjamin had them the whole time it was weird, guess i left them last night. but he was like such an ass about it, like he knows anything though the uh, jock, jerk uh. hes actually dressed better than me rn isnt he. Finally threw on a dress shirt, surely inspired by me haha- pulling it off quite well too, his chest hair peaking up through mm-
Fuckkk dude my cocks kinda getting hard looking at him, starting to smell musty in the car too, wait oh shit i didnt even notice that it didnt reek when i got in! weird that its starting to stink now tho whats up with that, looks like hes finally noticing tho ha! its nice to see him finally react to how bad my uh, no how I GOD, how bad fuckin’ he stinks obviously. whatever, ive got more important stuff to think about.
Evening
okay work was like, not fuckin chill today. idk what was up but like, every little thing i did today just wasnt good enough apparently like okay?? you know me, if something seems off clearly, fucking OBVIOUSLY it uh, i? god my head just keeps going blank i dont get it, im just. Huh, kinda smells like Ben all of a sudden, oh fuck lol my pits have completely sweat through my shirt-
None of this matters anyway though bro! Because i just had the BEST sesh with Ben after work!! honestly the work shit doesnt even bother me, shouldve seen me its like i am a natural at this shit i was getting a pump like ive done it a hundred times. im sure it smelled like a locker room on the ride home lol
OH! I didnt even say, it was all ben’s idea!!! he said the gym always helps him when uh, things get too hard to think about and fuckk bro hes so right. hes so, lol i almost said hes so smart- he definitely knows how to work out though, he kept helping me with my technique but im prety sure he just wanted an excuse to touch me-
not that im complaining LMAO- every time he did it was like i felt myself getting stronger, and less worried about all those yes-man suit fuckers! hed adjust my arms and i would feel my biceps just suddenly pump larger, hed bump his hands into my pecs while spotting me and theyd just force the bar up even faster, wish hed just go ahead and grab my cock lol
theres time yet too- gonna crash at his place tonight! hopefully ill get to see him put his magic fingers and tight body to use cause fuck bro idk if it was the pump or what but i dont think my balls have ever been this blue, like any time i try to think about, oh ughh, work i just. mm everything in my body just begs me to fucking blow a load-
Friday May 10th
Morning

fucker just went to bed early- got me all riled up and then i had to jack off alone. felt way better than usual tho, my cock seems bigger to lol, dk whats up with that. wanted to try again this morning but ben was just on my fucking ass trying to get me out the door
i didnt have any of my clothes, duh, so i just threw on some of his, crazy how much they fit me? they even kinda already smell like me lol. he actually put a suit on which seems wild, funny that i look like a slob and he looks like some uh, fancy guy. Like i should right? uhh is my headache coming back? lol idk but looking at him in that fucking suit sure is making it hard to focus-
ben said i can just change n stuff when we got to the office, its why hes dressed up. ill go ahead and drive us and then hell just run up and get my clothes, idk if theyll fit tho? feel like im larger than i was for some reason- oh yeah my massive fucking pump lol-
mh speaking of pump, maybe while hes up there ill have time to jack another one out, not like anyonell see or care ya? like its a problem im about to be the fuckin alpha of this company or uh, something. itll be done before hes back, only evidence will be cum stains on his clothes lol. ugh it smells so fucking dank in here i might just cum without touching it lol
Evening
shit man, dont know what i was doing? i feel like i was supposed to go into work today but ben says from now on im just his driver. which easy gig right lol? doesnt even care that i dont shower huhuh-
he got his big promotion today!!! he looked so smug and hot when he came down to tell me, and he promised wed have some fun about it when he got home tonight- just gotta drop him off at some stupid fancy dinner ill probably hit the gym while hes there. gotta keep it up or ill look like some fucking dweeb
plus that means ill get the car totaly filled with my bo- hell fuckin love that, after he gets a good whiff no way wil he not want to fuck then and there huhuh fuck, kinda needs to get that exercise in now that hes doing whatever bitchass shit they do all they day up there needs to give in and just fuck me finally its been so, ugh long and my balls feel so full, and im sweating so much god im fogging up the windows loli better be careful i need to keep it together until then urgh-
god i just smell so fucken hot

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Influencer-d
/includes; muscle growth, getting taller, getting handsomer, tf through technology.
/Contains (partial) ai images
"Fuck"
Trey's friend told him to download this instagram "mod" but he wouldnt tell him what it did. Once it was downloaded onto his phone, almost instantly he got a ton of notifications
[ +99 Followers, +99 Likes, +99 Comments]
He gasped as he looked through the notifications, was it just some follow bot? His mind went racing as he realized thay his account could be banned for doing that, not that it would matter a ton since he only had a handful of friends on there.
As he looked at his page, it populated with vacation photos, photos of people that kind of looked familiar, and worst of all- thirst traps.
He was so confused, had ai gone this far?
He clicked on one of his posts as a shirtless picture of his fat skinny body showed on screen. He was flexing like he had muscle, but clearly he didnt.
He opened the comments expecting people to make fun of him.
Jackie.spammzzzz04: 🥵🥵🥵🥵
ReaganGrayy_2: damn bro, im not gay but...
Mi.Takashi: gainz!!! 🔥🔥
He felt himself getting lightheaded as he stumbled toeards his bedroom. He kept scrolling through the comments as they hyped him up.
He fell against the hallway wall and as he did, he glanced at his arm. It was different, tanner, vascular, more... muscular?
He didnt have time to think, instead he tried to get to his bed. Maybe whatever was happening to him would pass soon.
He tried to force himself to sleep but for some reason it felt like was going through puberty again. His whole body hurt and he felt extremely horny for some reason.
He opened his phone to more notifications as he scrolled through his comments again.
JJJJaxonShay.69: i feel like u always get taller when i see you lmao
TaliaDinoNuggizz: Is what they say about you true? You look like your lowk packing haha.
His mind jarbled together as he felt his legs lengthening, his legs filling out with muscle as he stretched them. He clicked off his phone and put it down as he turned to face the ceiling, sweat was dripping down his face as he morphed into a handsomer version of himself, sharp jaw, big eyes, perfect lips.
In a fit of mania he peeled off his wet sweaty shirt, revealing a tight set of abs and pic juicy pecs. Arching his back he felt it broaden with muscle as his ass filled out.
He moaned loudly as he felt his rock hard member lengthening longer, thicker, bigger. He came as ribbons flew into the air, he didn't even have to touch himself as the euphoria was that strong.
He fell asleep, covered in his own filth.
---
As he slowly woke up he checked his phone, why not give the thirsty bitches what they want? He always knows knows how to deliver.
He stepped into his bathroom and took a mirror pic for his story.

As he did he got a snap from his friend, the one that told him to download some weird thing yesterday.

"Hey man, you up? Just got done with the gym and i thought youd want a taste of this ass b4 i shower."
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Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the way your “hope I haven’t cocked it up” and my “hope I haven’t cocked it up” are like leagues of difference bc yours is significantly better to the point that like I’d be mad if I could actually compete but I’m just marveling at it bc there straight up is no competing with greatnessksksks I’m not crying at all, no really I’m like sksjwjwjw I’m fine
Narcoctober Day 1 - Day of Firsts
So I've never drawn Javi before and hope I haven't cocked it up. Enjoy!
#bro tf#spent 2 hours flailing in the sprints#while you were out here makinf this masterpiece#fuck you and your foreshortening woes#thems a bunch of dirty rotten lies#where is the struggle#where is the cocking it up?#all I see is vibes#all I see is a really unique and novel use of negative space#all I see is a man I want to climb like a jungle gym#narcoctober#narcos#pedro pascal#javier peña
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You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!
FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.
“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.
“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.
“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.
“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”
“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”
“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”
“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.
“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.
With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”
“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”
“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.
“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.
“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”
“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…
I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:
“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”
I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”
“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”
“What’s that supposed mean?”
“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.
“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”
“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”
“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”
I was about in tears, “Deal.”
He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:
“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.
“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”
He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”
“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted
“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”
Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.
“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”
The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.
“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”
“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”
“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”
The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.
“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”
“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.
“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”
A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.
“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.
“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.
“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.
“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”
“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.
“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.
“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”
He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.
“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”
“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”
He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”
He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.
————
Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️
#hypnosis#bro#transformation#musk#preppy tf#jockification#fml#muscle tf#changing#reality change#straight to gay#jock tf
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A few shorts
1
The second David put on the grey sweatpants his bulge significantly grew as well as his muscles. Shit he smelt like musk too. He was now Davis, the dumbest guy in college, the guy who only thought with his dick. He was also a massive dick, and he knew it. Oh and the girls loved it!

2
Flick was a 79 year old man going on holiday to Ibiza. He booked into his hotel called "La Joven Transformación" not knowing that anything would happen. 4 boys, Alejandro, Harry, Nicholas and Josh dragged Flick to their room and injected him with something. Flick began to decrease in age by 60 years until he was 19. It also made him extremely hot. His muscles grew and his shirt disappeared. His mind changed and remembered he was in Ibiza to party with the boys. He forgot his name was ever Flick and he believed it was Clint since forever.
"Bros! I'm so pumped for this vacay man! Gonna get some hot Spanish chicas!" He said cockily.

3
The second Craig stepped into the gym, he was sprayed with some sort of liquid which made him look like an absolute gym bro. His biceps were now huge and so was basically everything else about him, especially his ego. He was now Kyle and he took a picture of himself and uploaded it onto Instagram.

4
Thanks to Jake's help, Greg had become yet another baseball bro in the school. He ditched the name Greg and became Grayson. He turned the blue baseball hat backwards and put on the white shorts. It made his muscles grow and his sport ability increase. It also made him grow to 6 foot 4. He took a picture and sent it to his girlfriend Libby.

5
Joel was a nerdy guy in school. That was until one of the school's bad boy heartthrobs, Freddy, stuck a cigarette into Joel's mouth. Joel inhaled the smoke by accident, the smoke from the magical cigarette ran through his body. It pumped up his muscles, deepened his voice, made his hair more messy and disheveled, made him taller, made him gain a more bad boy brain. Before he knew it, he believed his name was Cole. Cole was the definition of a Tiktok bad boy. He picked up his phone and pulled out a cigarette before taking a picture and sending it to his girlfriend, Julia, captioning it with.
"You know youre rly cute right"

6
Ian was a gay guy who was also a twink. He was walking around his university until a clearly conservative guy came up to him with another man who was recording him. The conservative gay was a gay called Jackson. Jackson was an "interviewer" on Tiktok, and Ian was his next victim.
"Trump or Kamala?" Jackson asked.
"Kamala duh." Ian replied which Jackson wasn't happy about and the cameraman stopped recording.
The phone flashed in Ian's face and changed him. Ian's muscles grew, his hair grew into a mullet-ish hairstyle, his voice deepened, he grew to well over 6 foot. As well as the physical changes his mind changed too.
He gained a very VERY conservative mindset, he straightened out, and he gained lots of new opinions that his old self would find offensive and controversial. He forgot his name was Ian and now his name was Evan. Jackson looked at him and re-recorded his part.
"Trump or Kamala bro?" Jackson asked again.
"Trump dude. I ain't no sissy!" Evan replied.

7
Lila was a nerdy girl with one boy best friend, Martin, who was gay. She was at school and was studying alone in the library, then the cheerleaders came in. Polly, Viola, Hayley and Roxana were the most popular girls in school. They approached Lila and stuck a hairband on her head causing her transformation to begin. Her hair got long and blonder causing her to become ditzier. She gained an hourglass figure and developed a valley girl accent. Her face got more pretty and her lips plumped up. Her makeup became extremely sexy, as well as other parts of her body. Once it was over the cheerleaders took off the headband and then Lila gained a new name, Mia. She threw her books away and ran to the field with the other girls. She couldn't wait for Martin to change.
"Eeeekk! I'm like, totes excited to be a cheerleader. Can we like, change Martin too hehe?!" Mia says in a valley accent using her newly gained valley slang.

8
Martin and Lila were best friends, until one day. That day was the day Lila, or Mia as she was now called, became a cheerleader. Martin was confused what happened. He was sitting in the art classroom and then Mia came up to him and placed a football helmet on his head. He instantly started to transform. His hair shortened and darkened to a dark brown and it gained a messy Tiktok boy style. He got more muscular and taller, and developed a deep voice. His face got more rugged and angular and his eyes darkened in colour. His personality got more confident and popular boy-like. He became straight and started to mainly think with his dick. Once it was over Mia took off the helmet and then Martin gained a new name, Matt. He threw away the art supplied and kissed Mia passionately. He was glad he was now a football player and that Mia was his cheerleader girlfriend.
"Yo babe. I love you, you're so sexy huhu!" He said in his new dumb voice

(Decided to do a few of these for being gone for so long. Also short 7 and 8 are connected. And as always, all characters are 18 or over.)
#male tf story#male tf#female tf story#female tf#gay to straight#nerd to cheerleader#nerd to jock#smart to dumb#nerd to bad boy#lib to con#straight tf#conservative tf#nerd to baseball bro#gym bro tf#grey sweatpants
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SHOOTERS SHOOT
(feat. Charlie Bushnell x fem¡oc)


@angrygirlhayek Following
@cbushnell15 come home the kids miss you 😣
11:31 p.m 19/03/25 105.5k views
💬 111k 🔁 50k ❤️150.3k
@malachiDiBarton
noooo baby don’t do this to me 😭😭😭
@AryanSimhadri
brooo that’s crazy time to man up ig @cbushnell14
@cbushnell15
I guess dreams really do come true 😳😳😳
@elianamarkella
I thought you were joking about posting it to twitter 😭😭😭
@user1078
HUHH?? WHO TF IS CHARLIE BUSHNELL?!!!
@likemyballs69
there’s no way bro puller Alejandra Hayek
@crasybitsh101
Nepo baby much? 🙄
-
dior
guyss have you seen twitter?
aryan
Charlie literally manifested her
wtf
He was crying like two days ago to a tik tok she posted
Cause he said she’ll never know him
Are we in some type of fairytale I don’t know about???
walker
What’s twitter? I don’t know that app
I only know x 😉
dior
Stfu
If u don’t have anything relevant to say, just sush
charlieeee why aren’t you relying
leah
He’s probably still in shock
Or possibly crashing out rn
charlie
…
dior
use your words dummy
Charlie
W T F
HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?
WDF DO U MEAN THE KIDS MISS ME I NEVER LEFT!!!!!
OMFFFGGGG
aryan
there it is
Leah
Oh lord…
dior
Deep breaths
Charlie
wtf do I say after something like that??
dior
Dm her? Ask for her number
Charlie
She doesn’t even follow me
wait
Aryan
What?
Charlie
SHE JUST FOLLOWED ME
On insta and tik tok
Omg omg
my repost are like 90% edits of her she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo 😭😭😭
dior
HAHAHA
Charlie
tf u mean haha?
HELP ME
Aryan
just calm down bro I’m sure it can’t be that bad
Leah
Trust me it’s bad, level 100% obsessed with the poor girl
How does she even know you?
walker
I have something relevant to say
Leah
What is it?
walker
It was me.
Dior
What do u mean it was you? Huh?
Leah
???
Aryan
???
Charlie
???
Walker
I met her yesterday in nyc, she was very nice btw she invited me for doughnuts, anyways I asked if she had seen Percy Jackson
Which btw she had
And she mentioned that Luke Castellan was the best thing to ever happen to Disney
So I told her that Charlie is obsessed with her work
Charlie
Idk if I should thank you or kill you
Walker
What? I’m literally the best wing man every tf u mean kill me?
Leah
Language
Walker
Sorry 😔
Aryan
I was not expecting that
dior
Me either, I though those fotos of u with a girl in nyc were edited
I didn’t know it was her
Why didn’t you tell us?
Walker
You never asked
🤷🏼
Charlie
this mf
-
Charlie Bushnell sat in absolute shock on the bench of his local gym, mouth gaped fist clenched and heart bounding, as he stared at the notificación on his Home Screen from tik tok @alehayek mentioned you in their video. The nervous boy took a deep breath before clicking on the notification it soon leading him into the app where the logo appeared before the app loaded the video.
On the screen appeared a short tik tok video, there she was Alejandra Hayek on the beach in god knows which part of Mexico, she lounged lazily on a beach chair with pretty doe eyes staring into the camper lens from behind her think sun classes, she laid beautifully displaying the setting of the beach infront of her with the sun set. Her tanned skin and glossy lips smiled at him, god he could die a happy man just simply looking at her.
Soon enough the tik tok audio rang throughout the empty gym, “like my **** tall and brown, and mixed with a little bit of ugly” she lip synced, with a cute smile allowing the dimples in her cheeks to form, as her hand moved forward for form the gun motion “uh, uh-huh, they say shooters shoot” she smiled while tilting her head, long wavy hair falling into her face slightly, “uh, uh-huh, @CharlieBushnell, what’s up with you?”
In that moment Charlie couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, his face was red, his cheeks hurt, his heart raced and his palms were sweating, he shook his head in his flustered state before liking the video, adding it to his favorites and reposting it. He rewatched the video once more before opening the comments.
-
Dior Goodjohn • following
@charliebushnell where you at my guy come get your girl
McKenna grace • following
That’s crazyyy
Aryansimhadri • following
get your man girl
Walker scobell • following
This was my doing btw
Liked by creator ❤️
Malachi Barton •following
😔😔😔
Eliana Kalogeras • following
Yeah Bushnell what is up with you and my girl? 🤨
🎀Piper Rochelle🎀 • following
ITTT COUPLEEEE
Vinnie • following
🤨🤨🤨
Alex Warren • following
Can I preform at the wedding??!!
replied by creator
omg yessss!! (If there is a wedding 🫢)
Charlie Bushnell • following
Well it appears I’ve been shot, right in the heart
Liked by creator ❤️
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a/n: thank you for reading! Sorry for any grammar mistakes you may have encountered English isn't my strongest language, hope you enjoyed. This is one hundred percent inspired on a tik tok I saw the other day!
PLEASE READ!!!
It has come to my attention that many people seem to get disappointed after realizing that my stories are x femjoc, I'm so sorry for the confusion. I'm not very good at writing my character without much details or descriptions, so I find it much more difficult to write x reader fics as much as l'd like to. As for my tags please don't come for me but as some tumblr users probably already know the algorithm here isn't the best and I have to put as much tags associated with my fic as possible for it to get put on the right fandom's fyp, if you'd like me to formally remove or change anything just let me know, I write strictly for fun and entertainment of other I'm just trying to share my hobby
(IF U HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS FICS DON'T BE AFRIAD TO COMMENT YOUR QUESTIONS, AND IF YOU'D LIKE TO SEE MORE OF THIS DONT FORGET TO LIKE AND REPOST!!
#fyp#percy jackson#luke castellan#disney#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x reader#camp half blood#percy series#dior goodjohn#leah sava jeffries#aryan simhadri#walker scobell#malachi barton#tiktok#vinnie hacker#shooters shoot
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