thetfchangingroom

[thetfchangingroom]

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I still believe in Santa.

Sounds crazy right? But I know for a fact that he’s real. I know because this year, I asked him to turn me into a big Bulgarian bodybuilder, just a massive fucker with hot hairy muscles and a thick, meaty cock.

… Anyway, thanks Santa! Merry Christmas!

Click here to read the full NSFW version on my Twitter! Pic credit @badrozicifbbpro

[thetfchangingroom]

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Holiday shopping was in full force, and you’d been getting Amazon packages all week. You didn’t think twice when you signed for the box; it could have easily been that special Pokémon card you’d gotten for your boyfriend.

But the second you opened it, you knew something was off. Inside was a brown UPS shirt, like the one your deliver guy was wearing. But when you tried to put it on, it was enormous on you. There must have been a mistake. You had to bring this down to HQ, tell the boss.

What boss? You thought, but your mind was starting to reel, forgetting and remembering at an alarming rate. So alarming that you didn’t notice your muscles begin to fill out the shirt…

Your transformation into a hunky UPS driver was in full force. The moment you put on that shirt, every second brought you closer to Kevin Kuck: the dopey delivery stud with the big smile and the bigger body. You grunted as Kevin’s strawberry blond beard seeped through your chin, and gasped as his 9-inch uncut hog snaked down your vascular thighs.

You could have came right there and then, but Kevin knew some hot milfs along his delivery route who could take care of this. You’d inherited his whole life: his profession, his body, his memories, and his love of sopping wet cougar pussy.

You were Kevin Kuck: dreamboat UPS guy… at least for the holiday season. It’s a busy time for delivery, and Santa needs all the help he can get!

You stand, flexing Kevin’s sweat-slick, red hot muscles and adjusting his own personal package, and saunter back to your truck parked out front. You’ve got a long day ahead of you, big guy.

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[thetfchangingroom]

Juan was fresh out of college and apartment hunting in the big city. All his friends’ places were all filled up, and he wasn’t gonna live with some random creep online, so rooming was out of the question, but everything else seemed to be out of his price range.

Thats when Juan found the studio. The online listing seemed like a joke. The apartment was a modern high rise overlooking the park, and what they were asking had to be a fraction of the actual price. So he decided to book a tour. This was either a joke or a miracle, and Juan just had to find out.

Within moments of stepping into the spacious space, Juan began to feel odd, as if he’d been there before. The studio was elegantly yet sparsely furnished, save for all the workout equipment. And it was clean, just how Jan liked it.

But Jan wasn’t the tidiest guy… and this wasn’t his studio! What was going on? He rushed to the bathroom, where he noticed all the flab on his body had turned to hard muscle. Not only that, Jabn was looking older, much later in his 20’s, perhaps even into his 30’s.

Jabnr rushed to the door and gripped the handle. Only then did he clock the changing tone and texture of his skin. Juan was becoming an entirely new man, one more suited for the luxurious studio. As Jabar’s hair receded into a smooth, shiny dome, his four years as a communications major were replaced by ten working at a prestigious advertising firm. All his hobbies and interests were replaced with strict diet and workout routines. Jabari’s studio might have been nice, but his body was a temple.

Jabarri mindlessly picked up a dumbbell and started doing reps, working up a sweat on his glistening biceps. That’s when his final change occurred, and suddenly a snake slithered down his sweats. Jabarri’s cock was big—like his studio, where he’d regularly use it to plow the cum-hungry twinks he liked to pick up at the bar after a long day in the office.

Living in the city was hard work, but it was one hell of a rush.

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[thetfchangingroom]

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Like every other witch, Anika loved Halloween. The decorations, the sweets, the spells. One of her favorite traditions: last minute Halloween costumes.

People loved her crafty Tik Toks, but nobody believed Anika was a real witch. Every year she’d get a dozen inquires from concerned, costume-less fans in search of ideas. None of them knew that in just a few moments, they’d have a completely new body.

Last year, she turned a guy into Batman, the one before that into a big sexy werewolf. This year however, she got a request. The guy was in college, lacrosse player, beach blond and rushing for the biggest frat on campus. He wanted to be Thor (obviously), but had procrastinated all month.

Now, it was the night of the most important party of his college career, and he had no costume. But Anika was about to give him something much better than a costume.

In seconds the guy shot up a full foot. He grunted as lines of age creased into his skin, and muscles began to swell on his already toned body. Anika held up a mirror, and the man watched with a mix of wonder and horror as a blond beard broke through the skin on his face.

“What have you done to me?” His voice deepened to a husky baritone with a British accent. Even the sound of it was enough to send his 9” hog to full mast. Maybe Anika had gone too far. Nobody at this frat would even recognize the frat dude he was before…

… But they’ll love him for getting Chris Hemsworth to come to their Halloween party!

Happy Halloween from #TheChangingRoom ⚡️🎃

[thetfchangingroom]

Would you rather be a ginger or blonde?

It’s difficult to choose! Both can be so hot.

How about strawberry blond? I get the best of both worlds!

[thetfchangingroom]

Would you rather be stuck as the socks of a hot gymbro or the as the singlet of a big wrestler bear?

Definitely gonna go with the singlet. I’ve never found feet/socks/etc to be hot in any way.

Singlets on the other hand? Love them. Plus, on a big hairy man, it would be a privilege.

[thetfchangingroom]

would you rather your partner have the ability to transform you however they’d like against your will, or would you rather have that ability over your partner?

I’ve actually thought about this quite a bit. It’s quite a quandary, because I’m as turned on by the prospect of transforming myself—especially into whom(or what)ever my partner wants me to be—as I am by the thought of having that power over him, being able to mold the man of my dreams before my very eyes.

But this is would you rather, and I have to chose, so I’ll chose the former. I’ve always wanted to transform. Into who, I don’t know, but my partner is with me, so he must have good taste.

[thetfchangingroom]

Would you rather be a smart twink or a dumb jock?

Dumb jock of course! Life is so much easier when you’re build like a brick wall… and as smart as one.

C’mon guys, let’s pick some hard ones (literally and figuratively)

[thetfchangingroom]

Would you rather be stuck in a twink or bear body?

Bear.

Obviously.

[thetfchangingroom]

Fuck it. Boring day at work, time for another Q&A!

Hit me up with your horny Would-You-Rather’s!

Saw someone asking for a TF version of an erotic ‘Would You Rather’ game with their followers, so I decided to make one.

[thetfchangingroom]

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Hello and welcome to Miami Witness Protection Services! I understand you’ve found yourself in a spot of trouble, but rest assured you’re safe under witness protection, and I’m here to answer any questions you may have as you transition to your new life.

Oh, who’s that? That’s Carlos. Carlos will be your… well, it’s hard to describe. Roommate? Chaperone? Surrogate? See, here at MWPC, we’re very thorough about protecting our clients’ identity, even if it means altering said identity in certain ways.

Here, let me show you what I mean: close your eyes, and hold onto this staff. Great, okay… 3… 2… 1… open!

Feels weird, right? Being in Carlos’ body? Feeling his deep, unfamiliar voice in your throat? You’ll get used to lugging around all that extra muscle. The guy is some big workout influencer, he’s got a like million followers or something. He's always posting topless shots of himself pumping those thick hairy muscles down at the beach. I doubt he owns a single t-shirt. I hear he even has an OnlyFans too. I think you’ve got a lot to look forward to.

Woah woah, calm down big guy! I did warn you how thorough we are. Nobody is gonna recognize you as a rock-hard 6’5” Miami gym bro. Soon, you might not even recognize yourself. We’ve found our clients take pretty strongly to their new lives, so just know that whatever reservations you might be having right now, in two weeks you’ll be a huge, horny Hispanic bodybuilder through and through.

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[thetfchangingroom]

I consider myself a pretty attractive guy, but I’ll also be the first to admit I’m a little addicted to the gym. More specifically, I’m additcted to the hot guys I see all the time there: big buff goons, perfectly proportional yet intellectually bankrupt.

I don’t know why I decided to take a stray sip out of that guy’s shake bottle, but if I knew about the weregoon virus, I might have thought twice.

The strangest thing has happened to me since. Every full moon, I wake up to find myself passed out in some random part of town, usually in the apartment of some girl I don’t know. It’s so odd and super uncomfortable.

But then one day I was scrolling through Reddit and I found a video of this smoking hot muscular surfer dude absolutely railing this brunette chick and—oh my god, it was the girl who’s house I woke up in!

The next full moon, instead of going to sleep, I stayed awake, staring at myself in the mirror. At midnight, it happened.

I felt my whole body grow numb as it wobbled and bloated in my reflection. My hands explored the odd curves of my shifting skin as it hardened into solid muscle. I watched my own cock grow almost a foot long while my nuts swelled to the size of ping bong balls. My brain was buzzing, but just with static. The last thing I remember was cracking open a beer (which I normally save for guests) and rubbing one out to my own reflection in the mirror. The cum stains were still there the next morning.

I was turning into a dumb blond himbo every full moon, just like a werewolf. The worst part? I have no idea what I do when I’m in that state. One of these girls called me saying her pregnancy test came back positive. What do I do??

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“What’s the matter dude? Come on in! The water’s great!”

But you didn’t dare move. Michael must have been totally oblivious to what had just happened, to what became of his one gangly, unremarkable body after it came into contact with the crystalline waters of the cove.

You thought it was a mirage at first, perhaps a trick of the sunlight. Michael had transformed so quickly that within seconds of stepping into the water, perfectly proportioned muscles all around his body cast shadows across subtly tanning skin, and gold hair cascaded from his scalp and his formally bare jawline. Now, it was sharp to the point that it could have been chiseled from marble.

Michael had become a golden god. You were sure of it. What would become of you when the water touched your skin? There was only one way to find out. The thought terrified you: your body fundamentally changing in the blink of an eye. But the thought also excited you, especially if it meant looking even half as hot as Michael did.

So you waded into the cove. You didn’t feel anything, but the look of shock on Michael’s face told you everything you needed to know. You glanced down to find your view obstructed by a bushy black beard and a big pair of furry pecs. But the reflection you saw cresting over your chest in the water below was unrecognizable.

“Woah dude,” said Michael, jaw slack with awe, “when did you get so hot??”

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“Immature.”

That was how most people referred to the boys of the Alpha Pi fraternity. They were all rich—usually white—boys masquerading as men, walking into every establishment like they already owned it.

But they picked the wrong country club to mess with this time. This time, they weren’t leaving until they’d been taught a lesson. The guys of Alpha Pi were about to discover what real maturity looked like… and fast.

Within minutes of starting their meal, some guys were complaining about the tightness of their clothes. Some had even started to clock their change in size, but they said nothing for fear of sounding like a complete maniac in front of their fellow bros.

Instead, they just kept eating. The food there was delicious, and yet no matter how many steaks they devoured or complimentary bread baskets they emptied, they just couldn’t stop eating… and couldn’t stop growing.

By the time desert came around, they all looked ridiculous; all big balloons of muscle and fat with preppy young heads on-top, slack-jawed with satisfied stupor. Desert as it turned out wasn’t desert at all, but complimentary cigars, which the guys took without a second thought.

As the room filled with smoke, so did their faces fill with hair. Beards blossomed on every chin in the room, as the hard lines of age creased the frat boys’ skin with every puff they took.

When the fraternity left the club that night, not a single member was under the age of 50–and not a single one of them weighed under 200 pounds. In fact, the group of burly bears was no longer a frat, but a men’s club that had been meeting for decades. They were everything the frat boys weren’t: enormous, gentlemanly, and most importantly: mature.

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[thetfchangingroom]

Every year you attended your uncle’s Fourth of July barbecue beach bash. He was the grill master of the family. But as it was his party, it was his rules, and the first and only rule was that tackle football was mandatory.

Every year you were subjected to 1-2 hours of brutal athleticism at the behest of your uncle and his behemoth children. Your five cousins were all tall, corn-fed specimens who you could probably smoke in a game of chess. Perhaps that’s why they seemed to revel in tackling you to the sand once a year, peacocking their physical prowess, asserting their fragile male dominance for one excruciating afternoon.

But not this year. This year, you decided to shake things up.

At first, nobody recognized you. When you arrived at the barbecue, your extended family assumed you’d wandered in out of the ocean or off some military base. When you explained that you were actually cousin Jonathan, they thought you were kidding. How could this six-foot-four chiseled blond demigod be scrawny cousin Johnny?

Because you’d transformed yourself into an all American jock, a career sportsman, and a man for whom football was baked into his DNA. You’d given yourself a body that showed commitment and dedication since adolescence, naturally handsome looks, and a cock big enough to match your new cocky attitude.

You’d even given yourself grill skills to boot, much to your uncle’s chagrin. It was nothing compared to what he’d feel when you smoked him and his boys in tackle football that afternoon. He was red with envy. You were like the son he’d never had, and the king of his precious Independence Day celebration.

So, what’s next? Another game with the fam? Fireworks over the water? Or maybe you wanna address that thick veiny meat growing in your tight trunks. Nothing gets you hard like a good game of football.

Happy Fourth of July from The Changing Room 🇺🇸🏈 Click here to follow my Instagram for more transformation stories!

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“This had better be worth it,” you said as you placed the ungodly expensive cutting-edge VR headset your friends implored you to buy over your eyes. “A Whole New Way to Play Video Games,” claimed the box, but you would soon discover that was a gross understatement.

It allowed you to play any game, so you picked Red Dead Redemption 2 because hey—it’s one of the best video games of all time, and inarguably one of the more immersive.

But you did not expect to become Arthur Morgan: legendary outlaw and walking male fantasy. When the headset turned on, you felt like you were thrown out of your own body for a split second.

When you regained composure, you felt the gentle rock of a horse between your legs, the warmth of the sun on your back, and the rim of a cowboy hat around your head.

“What in the hell?” You mumbled in Arthur’s signature drawl. It rumbled in your throat, even deeper as it reverberated throughout your skull. This wasn’t immersive. This was something else.

You explored your body, running Arthur’s rough hands over the grooves and canyons of his muscles, through the thick bristles of that bushy beard. You felt like a goddamn man. You always played Arthur as a cocky motherfucker, but it was one thing to play cockiness and another to embody it.

Arthur puffed his chest—your chest, and you felt a snake grow between your legs. Obviously you never see Arthur’s dick in the game, but the real thing exceeded even your wildest expectations.

The simple knowledge that it was your dick—that YOU were Arthur Morgan and this was your goddamn cock—was enough to send you over the edge. Not 5 minutes into playing the game and you’d already busted a nut. You didn’t know it yet, but it would be the first of many. There’s a reason all your friends recommended this to you…

… and just like them, you were gonna have a hard time taking it off.

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Nobody in Grey Falls really knew what happened to Gary Henderson. One day, he was a smart kid with a bright future. The next, he was gone: vanished without a trace.

But with small towns being what they are, of course people had their theories. The wildest one was that Gary didn’t actually disappear at all… at least, not in a conventional way.

See, a week or two after Gary went missing, the Hendersons hired on a new farmhand: Gronk. Yeah, that was his real name, and he was exactly the kind of guy you’d expect to have it. Dumb as rocks, huge as a boulder, and content with nothing but the cigarette he’d enjoy at the end of a hard day tilling the Henderson’s farm, Gronk was just about the opposite of Gary in every way.

But what if we was Gary?

What if Mr. Henderson was so adamant about his son helping him out on the farm—so against him going off to college, so spiteful of his intelligence—that he struck some sort of deal? What if Mr. Henderson turned Gary into a pea-brained brute of a man, a subservient, simple-minded muscle meat-head who had no aspirations outside of pleasing his boss and growing his body to stupid proportions?

It was one hell of a theory, but sadly, that’s all it would remain. What I can tell you is this: Gary is alive and well. In fact, he might be the happiest he’s ever been…

… and the biggest. Wanna touch his muscles? Go ahead! He likes to show off. He also likes to plow random guys in the back of his pickup. It’s a small town: word gets around. Supposedly the word is Gronk blows fat loads, and his cock is the biggest thing on him.

Mr. Henderson must have a vivid imagination.

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