You Have No Choice

The strange rancid stench coming from the lockers was extreme enough for the school to shut them down and call in some cleaners. But he left an old book bag inside he didn’t want trashed. Opening the locker the musk hit him strong. Instantly his brain went numb and he watched amazed as his body got hot and bigger. He couldn’t help but flex and groan seeing himself growing sexy by the second. Screw the book bag, his mind was all about muscle now. He smelled fucking great and he knew a few pathetic friends who could use a good sniff.

The Motorcycle learning experience

— This story was a bit rushed so srry!! Still kinda ate, let me know what u think! —

It was Christmas, and Logan found himself gifted of an intriguing gift: a full-day motorcycle riding lesson with an instructor. As an 18-year-old nerd, he initially felt apprehensive about the gift, that was given from his roommate. Motorcycles, cars, sports… none of those were interesting to him, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless and thanked his roommate before going to sleep for the night.

Months later, the appointed day arrived, and as Logan made his way to the designated location, he experienced an unusual sensation of liberation. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, but he attributed it to the novelty of learning something outside his usual comfort zone, or because he was about to turn into the hottest biker the world had seen.

Upon arriving at the building, he was greeted by a man clad in a full Dainese leather suit and helmet, arms crossed in anticipation. Logan couldn't help but feel uncertain about the leather attire, but resigned himself to the fact that he would be wearing a suit likely worn by countless others before him—a thought that left him mildly repulsed.

Logan also never really liked bikers, each time he encountered one they were moving around traffic dangerously, almost making cars crash including himself. He wondered why his roommate had the idea to gift him that, it was totally not what he would usually enjoy and his roommate knew it.

"Yo, are you Logan?" the man inquired, removing his helmet to reveal a strikingly handsome, youthful visage reminiscent of a high school jock.

"H-hello...yes, I'm Logan," he stuttered, suddenly feeling more self-conscious in the presence of the attractive boy. Despite his heterosexual orientation, Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the leather-clad figure, his attention inadvertently fixating on the notable bulge accentuated by the attire.

"Alright, man, let's get started! I'll teach you the basics, but I've heard you've been riding for quite some time, so I won't need to hold your hand too much," the instructor remarked, interrupting Logan's internal musings.

"Actually—" Logan began, only to be cut off.

"So, first things first, here are your, pants, and leather jacket. Did you bring your own helmet?"

"No, I didn't..." Logan admitted, feeling increasingly bewildered by the instructor's assumptions and distracted by his own conflicting emotions.

"Bro, it's in your biker backpack right there," the instructor interjected, gesturing toward a backpack resting nearby. Logan turned to see the backpack for the first time, realizing he had been oblivious to its presence amidst the flurry of confusion. Overwhelmed by the situation and the instructor's disarming charisma, Logan's thoughts began to slow as he struggled to process what was happening.

“Man, bikers can be dumb sometimes..you’re no exception, but we got a little issue. I only have one pair of boots, which are mine, I ride with them everyday and they’re very good, bro. Just take ‘em.”

Logan took the boots without even replying, his head fogged up.

*arriving in the changing rooms, the instructor was following him.*

“Alright, first, the boots, bro.” The instructor grabbed them, and all of the sudden, shoved one of them into Logan’s face; the boot had a cheesy, hot intoxicating musk that immediately made Logan pass out. The funk was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, it was very hot and humid, while being absolutely disgusting.

-2 hours later-

Logan wakes up, surprisingly finding himself in full Dainese leather that did not fit him at all, the leather suit was ridiculously large, more fitting for a man the size of the instructor, and Logan was skinny. He tried to take the jacket off, but it was stuck to him, he started to panic.

“Nah bro, don’t take it off. You’re becoming a biker boy now.”

“S-stop..get it OFF!” He was becoming mad and anxious, not knowing what was going on and panicking inside the suit.

“Alright bro, it’s coming again.” The instructor was coming with the same biker boot in his hand as earlier, and Logan knew what was coming. He again shoved the biker boot on his face, the odiferous stench inside of it making him pass out again after just a few sniffs.

As he was passed out - the instructor watched Logan’s feet grow, more and more, until they stopped at a size 13.5, with long thick toes and perfectly cut nails. The smell emitting from his new feet was simply rancid, and similar to the instructors. Cheesy, manly, and sweaty. Every time he’d remove his boots, or shoes, the strench would be able to reek up an entire area. The instructor thought it would be good for dominating.

Next, Logan’s legs shrunk a little. Not in musculature, but in height. He became 5’9 fairly quickly, which was still a proper height.

Speaking of musculature, his legs and quads exploded out, becoming full of muscles and veins. They were a sight to see, and his thighs able to crush watermelons easily.

The instructor needed to keep Logan passed out, and this time he chose his feet. He took his big fat muscular biker feet, wrapped in white Nike socks that were more yellowish now, and shoved them into Logan’s nose again, keeping him « asleep ».

After his legs, came the awaited moment of his butt. It was currently hidden beneath the leather, so flat that it couldn’t be seen at all. Suddenly, the once flat buns were becoming stronger, and bigger. They were becoming large, fat and full of muscles. Not necessarily massive, but round with fat and muscles. The two orbs now started to bulge out of the leather pants attractively.

As the transformation continued, Logan would now have another way to dominate and be worshipped due to; frequent & fetid gas. His digestive system changed, matching one that would be made to emit farts very frequently, and even more due to Logan’s new diet, burgers, tacos, and overall greasy foods made his gas smell like rotten eggs & sulfur. The strench would also get caught up in the leather gear and make his entire body stink whenever he was wearing leather pants.

Logan couldn’t feel it, but his penis was now undergoing some changes. The precious 3 inches had been growing at the same time as his orbs in the back, now stopping at an over average but still reasonable 6 inches, but a smaller 3 inches soft, with balls that would be able to produce lots of alpha cum.

The once unassuming upper physique of the 18-year-old nerd underwent a discernible metamorphosis – his abs, once absolutely inexistant ,emerged with striking definition, now a defined sweaty 6pack that would turn heads whenever he was shirtless.

His chest, once modest in appearance, underwent a notable change. It expanded and firmed up, revealing well-defined pecs that seemed almost pillowy in their muscular fullness.The leather jacket sleeves strained against the growing bulk of his arms, which were also changing, combining sinewy strength with a compelling visual presence.

The aroma of genuine leather lingered around him, but other than that atmosphere, a unique fragrance emanated from Logan's body. His armpits, once understated, now emitted a confident, sweaty alpha scent – a true proof of him being an alpha, made to dominate and be worshipped.

As Logans transformation would soon end, his facial features underwent very much needed changes. he once unassuming face of the 18-year-old nerd evolved into something strikingly different. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones gained prominence, and his eyes took on a newfound intensity.

Simultaneously, subtle changes extended to his overall attractiveness. His skin acquired a healthy glow, and any lines that hinted at youth's passing subtly softened, adding an undeniable allure to his appearance.

Then, Logan woke up. Mixed thoughts were in his head, both wanting to escape and other ones where he thought he’d always been a biker boy, dominant and alpha.

“Right. MAX. What’s your name?” The instructor asked.

“I’m..Logan…” Logan, or should I say max, answered.

“No, your name has always been max, you’ve always been a dominant biker boy, 19 years old, bisexual, horny, gross, primal and eager to fuck.” The instructor said, hypnotising Max permanently and overwriting his previous memories.

“Yeah bro, I’m max. Wanna smell my fucking feet ?”

The transformation was complete. Max drove home on his motorcycle, smelling ripe with sweat and very hungry for a hole to fill. It was his new life. Max just wanted to dominate, fuck, spread his funk, and ride.

“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.

The Only Man He Could Ever Love

No doubt, my roommate was an odd one. Oh, he was a typical jock of course. He was in the gym several days a week, constantly drinking protein shakes, smelled of sweat and funk more often than not, and generally left the place a cluttered disgusting mess if not for the parade of chicks he had over, forcing him to tidy up a little for their benefit. To say Jason was a pig was probably putting it mildly. At least he wasn’t abusive or overly rude beyond typical frat boy toilet humor, so I was able to put up with his more crude behavior and habits a little better than I would have otherwise.

We’d been living together in this small dorm room for a few months now. Neither of us really wanted to live with someone else. I preferred my privacy, and Jason preferred more space to himself. But somehow, we made it work. Being bi (but still in the closet), I didn’t have as many hookups as Jason, preferring to date, but not really finding anyone at this school worth dating, male or female. Plus, I was too embarrassed to bring a girl back to our room. One, because it was usually a mess and smelled terrible, and two, because inevitably, Jason would somehow charm the girl into his own bed shortly after I started dating a girl, just to dump her later as per usual – as happened when we first started living together. So lesson learned on that one.

Oh well, it is what it is, and Jason is who he is. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t particularly like him much either, I just tolerated him. And that seemed to be how things would go from now on – until one night I woke up, drunk, and in Jason’s bed. No… it’s not what you think, but in some ways, maybe it was actually stranger than you’re thinking.

“Hey bro, wake up.” I heard a voice call me from my slumber. It wasn’t Jason’s voice though… It was my voice! Certain I was dreaming, I tried to will myself awake, “Dude, you’re not dreaming.” my twin explained, “I switched our bodies, I want to try something.”

I humored Jason as he explained he was wasted at a local bar after a late night gym session. He tried to pick up some chicks, but they all turned him down. Drunk and bummed, he returned to our dorm and figured, his roommate is asleep and he was horny as fuck, he wanted to see if he could get lucky with me.

“But I ain’t gay,” he explained, “And there’s only one man I’d ever love, and that’s me.” he said with a chuckle. “So that’s why you got my body now, and I want to see what it’s like, you know, to make out and do stuff with, well, myself.”

And that’s how we got where we are. It only lasted for the evening, but we ended up doing it again several more times after that. Mainly him worshiping his own stinky gym-worked body, but sometimes sucking his own dick (which he really liked and was actually really good at) and one time, he let me fuck him with his own cock. I really enjoyed that, though we haven’t done it since then and he’s too afraid to try fucking his own ass.

Oh well. I’ll take what I can get.

========== Want to read more of my stories, including longer stories exclusive only to my supporters? Check my pinned post on my Tumblr page for how you can sign up via PayPal or CashApp to access my content - Starting at only $5/mo!

He’s doing this to me. I swear. That dumb jock of a roommate is somehow making me into a bro like him. It started with just waking up with clearer skin, gettin a face that was not as thin and pale. But then I noticed changes to my body. I was waking up not as much the skinny beanpole I was the night before, filling in shirts and jeans that were big before. I thought maybe I was eating better with the meals my roomies been making or some kinda second puberty. But I kept on changing. And I can see my roommate always staring, askin me how I’m feeling, giving me shoulder rub, telling me I feel tense. He’s never been that nice. I’ve caught myself saying bro and dude more and more often and I swear I’m losing interest in book stuff or at least it’s getting harder to concentrate. And look at me. Abs and pecs. My biceps and shoulders are getting massive and they’re probably gonna get even bigger. Fuck I mean who am I kidding I’m looking hot. And it’s not just muscle, it’s cock. I’m getting thicker and longer everyday, and insanely horny. So hard not to just pull it out and see how I’ve grown, flex and smirk- my smile is so damn hot and cocky now. Fuck I’m losing myself aren’t I. But so what if my interests are changin a little. Look at these abs. My roomie has been checking me out, he wants a piece of this, who wouldn’t, and he’s fucking hot. Fuck I want to hold him down, show him what these muscles can do. Press my hard body against his, really show him what kinda dumb jock I can be. Huhu fuck yeah that would be so hot.

As a recent college graduate, I’ve been thinking a lot about past regrets I had from both high school and college. Like, I wish I had been more outgoing, where I would join clubs and go out friends rather than working after school and just playing video games. It would have also been nice to be out back in high school too, especially since I’m so far behind in life experiences as a gay man.

I wish I would have done different sports in school too because maybe it could have made me more athletic and attractive rather than being a chubby nerd. It’s hard to have so many regrets in life…

Do you think there’s any way you could help me and give me a new life where I no longer had these regrets?

Life-Changing Game

Not even a few weeks after graduating from college, you come home from shopping – it had been terrible and you just wanted to get home. Some mediocre country singer had a signing in the middle of the mall and even though you had no interest in the really bad music, it playing all the time, you couldn't help but admire this man. The fact that he was topless most of the time and flexing his muscles didn't necessarily make it any better.

You stare at the autograph in your right hand as you unlock your front door with your left. And shake your head. That was stupid. Still, you can't take your eyes off the well-toned man beaming at you on glossy paper. Without noticing, you put your bought food away in the cupboards almost as if in a trance and drop yourself onto your sofa. Your hand instinctively reaches for the controller next to you and your Playstation beeps. You sigh. Then you look down at yourself. Life in college without any real sporting activity and many hours alone in the library or in front of the game console showed its traces on your body. What had been just a slight belly line after high school is now a highly visible soft mass around your midsection. Sullenly, you pick up a roll of flab and wonder how you would be living your life if you had come out of your shell more back then – if you hadn't turned down the few invitations to party or to go to the gym together, if maybe you had approached that one cute guy earlier who you knew was freshly broken up with his boyfriend and that he was a wonderful person.

The screen of your TV flashes, you see the Playstation home screen. With a slight groan, you rise from the sofa and search the game you bought today out of the bag with the munchies for tonight's game night. This new RPG was brand new to the market – a few days ago a friend from college told you about it and had been all excited. But it was already sold out online, the game store had to order it first. But today it finally arrived. You quickly enter the registration code and the game starts downloading. The autograph is lying next to you and you look at it again. And you slip it under one of the sofa cushions. Maybe you could take a closer look at it later...

Your eardrums almost explode when the theme music plays. You flinch and your controller falls to the floor with a dull thud. With a contorted face, you search between the cushions for the remote, but your fingers only hit that autograph again. "Where the hell is that stupid remote?" you mutter as the bass of the music continues to pound your ears. But after what feels like three hours and a slight feeling of numbness, you find the remote under your own butt between the sofa cushions. You hurry to turn down the volume before the cranky old neighbour next door grumbles again like always. You exhale in relief and now, for the very first time, look at the start screen of the video in bright colours.

ULTIMATE COLLEGE EXPERIENCE - FIND YOUR ROLE

"Huh? What?! That's not the game I wanted, is it?!" you say annoyed and look at the packaging. At the corner of the box, the cover slowly comes off and you start pulling it off. Underneath the cover of the game you actually wanted is revealed what almost made your ears bleed just now. "What a load of crap! Great, really great!" you exclaim, dropping into the mountain of pillows behind you. But you already know that you probably won't go back to the shop, because you feel so uncomfortable talking to the staff there. You straighten up again. It doesn't help. You bought the game and spent $30. So, you might as well play it.

You pick up the controller again and press a button. The screen flickers again and you are asked to enter a name. So, this was also something where you were supposed to create a character. At least something. What name should you choose? Your own? Nah. What was the name of that man you were thinking about earlier? You think about it harder. Then you remember. Mitchell.But you use your mother's maiden name as your last name. Glass. As you painstakingly write the name in the boxes, the tight-fitting polo shirts he used to wear come back to your mind. You clear your throat and realise that you are getting a little warm at the thought.

You quickly confirm the name. It seems more and more familiar. Mitchell Glass. You like the name. It feels good. The picture changes, the character creation continues. Now comes the appearance of the character.

You've always been a bit envious of other people in college who looked very different from and hotter than you. So, you decide to build your character the way you would like to be. After all, it's only a game and no one would see this. You are a little excited. Like every time you create a character for a game. You are fascinated by how easy it is to change all the external characteristics with one click. Maybe even a little more than other people.

You click through the categories. First the general. Age. You think about it. 21. If that's college, then at least your character shouldn't have any problems with drinking either. Height. You've always wanted to be a little taller, too. You enter 6''2'. Hair and eye colour. Dark brown. Structure of hair. Wavy. Hairstyle. Short on sides, longer on top. Other hair. Little. Physique. Muscular. Social status. Athlete. Sexuality. Gay, in a relationship, lots of experience. So, you go on and on, you fill in the strengths and weaknesses of your character, you choose special features and hobbies (partying and working out), you spend almost 10 minutes modelling the perfect face – in short, you crafted the perfect man. The man you always wanted to be. In the end, you are very satisfied and look at the very realistic-looking figure languishingly. What you would give to look like that, to have such a character, to be so cool!

One last time you are asked if you want to keep the changes to your character as they are. During the game, the attributes could no longer be changed manually. You think this is a pity, but you want to see this Adonis you have created in action. You confirm the question with yes and a loading screen appears on your TV.

Loading process - Please do not switch off the game while the player is being adjusted.

"Great, then I can quickly get something to eat - wait, the player? The player is being adjusted?", you ask yourself aloud, just as you were about to go into the kitchen, and now you are staring at the screen. A very strange feeling spreads through your body and once again the controller falls out of your hand. There are tingles and tickles everywhere as if someone had given you a few light electric shocks. Your breathing speeds up and sweat pours down your body. Something is wrong here, you think, and you want to pull the plug on the Playstation, but then your clothes suddenly flow to the floor like water and disappear into nothingness.

A little ashamed, you look down at yourself and your eyes widen as your belly, moving with your deep breaths, slowly but surely retracts into your body. In disbelief, you place your trembling hands on your shrinking belly and as your fingertips touch your skin, an incredible feeling shoots through your body. Something you haven't felt like this before. Something you might have felt once or twice, at most, when masturbating alone.

"Oh, God, what's going on here? What - ooooh," you gasp and you feel something begin to stir in your crotch. Your cock stiffens and you put your trembling, sweaty hands around it and again you moan. Everything is so much more sensitive than usual. And as you move your hands up and down, you throw your head back. It feels... indescribable and you are no longer capable of any real clear thought.

The years you spent in college with your nose in books in countless libraries seem to be falling away from you. Your skin tightens a little again, not that you've really looked any older, but with each passing second, you seem more like someone who's just started college.

"Of course, I've only just started! It just took me a little longer at school," you mumble absently, and the loading screen on your TV shows:

First improvements done. Total progress 10%.

A force from inside your body lengthens your spine. It creaks and cracks until you reach 6‘‘2‘. Your whole body structure starts changing into something different as you continue to jack off. Your arms grow thick with muscles and moderately become covered in veins. The result of perpetual lifting and training every week since you were 16 years old. Now, for the first time in your life, you had real muscles! You involuntarily flex your new arms and enjoy the feeling of the power laying inside of them. Your hands follow and grow thicker, your fingers only used to click and scroll, broaden and callouses form on your palms. The change spread to your chest.

The strange force pulls on your before slightly flabby, now bone-thin chest and pulls and pulls until a nice set of pecs protruded from your chest. They went up and down with your heavy breathing. What was happening to you, you want to ask, but you are way too filled with pleasure and enjoyment to speak. Meanwhile, unknowingly to you, the loading bar was at about 35 %.

Something flicks from the inside against your flat belly and one by one well-trained abs appear. Something inside your body pulls on your shoulders and spreads them further apart. Your back muscles strengthen drastically and stature becomes a perfect v-form. The tingling goes down your body and forges your butt into a muscular, well-trained butt and your legs into trunks of muscles if they were made out of clay. Your feet grow a little longer and bigger to support your again higher weight, but now out of pure muscle. For a brief moment, the strange tingling stopped and your head becomes clear for a short time. You look down. Everything except your head was changed into a muscular body of a young, strong man who was not you.

But then that feeling of pleasure shoots through your body again. And your cock is crying out for your hands, which you can't deny it. You gasp. An unpleasant crunch spreads across your face as your features change. Your hair grows shorter at the sides and takes on a dark brown colour. Slowly it becomes slightly wavy. At the same time every hair beneath your chin retracts back into your skin, leaving you almost smooth everywhere. Your eyes burn briefly before your irises also take on a brown colour. Your facial features become a little more angular, stronger, but it is still apparent that you are still quite young. The boyish charm is still visible in contrast to your well-trained body. You have to cough and your Adam’s apple is getting bigger. Your voice is getting stronger and a little deeper so that it can be used to roar easily across a pitch.

By now you are completely absorbed again in stroking your cock the best you can. Between your hands, it grows wider and longer, your balls flooding your body with youthful energy and hormones. You moan. The sound of your deeper voice makes you shudder and moan even more. Confidence seeps from your body, you are proud of your muscles, you know how to use them to impress other men, to flirt with them, to sleep with them. You don't even notice how your knowledge of your college days disappears from your memory and is replaced by other knowledge. Training schedules, your teammates' favourite drinks and the memory of your first date with your steady boyfriend.

The writing on the TV, which by now you don't even notice anymore, so much you enjoy the strength and endurance of your changed body, changes again.

90 % complete. Attention! Final mental changes are incoming.

But just before anything can happen there, the screen goes black. But you don't care. With a loud moan, you feel the pressure in your crotch release and you shoot your seed over your TV. With a loud flicker, the Playstation flares up again as your seed drips onto it, and your surroundings begin to change. Your flat becomes smaller, a second bed appears at the end of the room. Sports trophies, jerseys, protein powder and many other things to train with are spread around the room. Still in the afterglow, a name manifests itself more and more in your head. Mitchell. Mitchell Glass. The life of this man fills your head and with another groan, you fall onto the bed in your dorm room and lose consciousness.

When you wake up a few hours later, you see a person standing next to you, looking down at you.

"You couldn't wait for me to get home again, could you, Mitch?" you hear a voice and you open your eyes. Next to you is a man with headphones in his ears, probably about to go to the gym. You blink your eyes and your look changes from confused to cocky. You tug the other down by his shirt.

"I'm still up for a second round with my hot boyfriend," you murmur, starting to caress his exposed muscular chest. Cody.Your steady boyfriend you met at a party last year. The best relationship you've had so far. And there had been quite a few. But Cody is perfect. Hot, a cool guy and the sex is great. In two hours, your buddies would be coming over. There's a party on campus, after all, and drinks for free. And you want some alone time with your boyfriend beforehand. And even as you pinch his nipples and your mouths lock, the Playstation, with numerous sports games piled messily next to it, displays a final writing before it switches itself off.

Player 100% changed. Full College Experience is ready to start. Thank you for choosing ChangeStation Enterprises!

I'm loving the stories! I'm heading to Mexico in a few weeks with work, but hoping to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Can you help me out?

You find yourself in front of your local Spanish-language association. You thought that taking a few classes in Spanish would help you recover some of the long forgotten classes you took in high school… though in all honesty, it won’t likely do much. You’re quite old, now, so it means that your brain cannot learn new languages as easily as it used to...

As you enter, you see the Mexican flag front and center, along with flags of many other Latin American countries, as well as that of Spain. You walk up to the receptionist, and she tells you, directly in Spanish :

“¡Bienvenidos! ¿Cuál es el motivo de usted venida? (Welcome ! What is the reason you came here ?) - Er…” You try to conjure some of the very old memories, and only manage a “Hola !” Before going back to English. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know Spanish… I’m here to take classes, in fact.”

The receptionist nods, and thinks a bit before taking out a timetable.

“Okay, well, you see, I have a... beginner’s course of Spanish in a few hours… It’s not perfect because they already started in January, but I think you can still catch up if you work hard enough.” She says, with a perfect American accent. She is visibly bilingual. - Oh, in a few hours ?”

You are quite interested, considering that you did want some beginner-level courses, but in a few hours… That’s too short to just go back home and come back later, but that’s also too long to just stay here and wait without getting bored !

The receptionist notices your embarrassment.

“You know, we are also a place where Spanish learners and native speakers can hang out. If you want, you can go to the hangout room while waiting ?” She offers sympathetically. - Well yeah, I could do that.” You nod. It may be geared towards more hard-core learners, but you can always try to immerse yourself…

You go to the room she waves you to. It isn’t loud, but there’s quite a lot of people in it, all speaking Spanish. You go and find somewhere to sit, when, on your way, someone hails you.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas? (Hello ! (...) ?)”

Your long-buried memories start churning, as you recognize the second sentence as meaning something like “What’s your name ?”. You think a while, and then, flash of brilliance.

“Me llamo Charlie.” You answer, giving out your name in the most American of accents.

Your conversation partner smiles, and speaks quite slowly to let you understand what he means.

“¿Cuántos años tiene?” You understand the sentence to mean ‘How old are you ?’ - Er… Soy… cuarenta y dos… años ?” You try, but he shakes his head. - No, ¡es ‘Tengo ventidós’ o ‘Tengo ventidós años’!”

You blush of embarrassment as he corrects you. Yes, you now remember that to mean “I am x years old” you say “Tengo x (años)”… you even remember the worksheets from way back when… Huh, it seems like it was less far of a memory than you thought.

“Lo siento…” You excuse yourself with sentence that came back strangely fast. - ¡Jajaja!” He laughs. “¡No te preocupes! ¡Hablar español es difícil! (Don’t worry ! Speaking Spanish is difficult !)”

You are surprised how easy it is to understand him. Visibly, you had more memories than you expected ! Then, that guy continues.

“¿De dónde es? (Where are you from ?) - Soy de… Mexico… Nuevo Mexico. (I’m from… Mexico… New Mexico.)”

You almost stumbled on yourself. There seems to be something wrong with that statement. You know you’re American, but something seems wrong…

“Ah, de... ¿Nuevo México? Pero tu acento no suena asi… (Ah, from… New Mexico ? But your accent doesn’t seem like it comes from there...) - Si, es verdad… (Yes, it’s true...)” You’re about to tell him that it’s because you’re American, but then you say : “La gente dice que tengo un acento de la Ciudad de Mexico. Sabes, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl. (People say that I have an accent from Mexico City. You know, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl (?).)”

Wait, why do people say that ? You never went to Mexico City ! Okay, yes, you did go there for the holidays, after all, your father lives there… Wait, your parents aren’t separated !

You get more and more confused as multiple versions of your history start competing with each other.

“¡Ah, tenía razón! Puedo verlo en tu cara que eres… eh… ¿mexiqueño? (Ah, I was right ! I can see by your face that you are… er… from Mexico City ?) - ¡Jajaja!” You laugh. “¡No se dice ‘mexiqueño’! ¡Se dice capitalino, o chilango si estás familiarizado! (You don’t say “Mexiqueño” ! You say “Capitalino”, or “Chilango” if you’re familiar !)” You don’t quite know where this knowledge comes from. It seems like something only locals would know… - Perdón, soy chileno, no lo sabía… (Sorry, I’m Chilean, I didn’t know...)”

You smile at him. Of course, he couldn’t know that, you’re familiar with these terms because you’re a Chilango through and through ! Born in the city, lived in the city ! Yet you furrow your brows, as something still feels off.

Somehow, you’re convinced that you’re American, even though it seems to be a more and more distant fact. Well, when you look down and see those tan arms, you know that you aren’t, like, a total gringo, you’re at least part Latino…

“¿Cómo es la vida allá? (How is life there ?)” The Chilean guy asks you, a torrent of memories coming back (?) to you. - ¡Es complicado de describir! Pero México es muy dinámico, ¡entonces siempre es interesante! (It’s difficult to describe ! But Mexico is very dynamic, so it’s always interesting !)” You think back to how frantic life is over there… and how much you love that. “Especialmente comparado con aquí, parece que esta citudad está muerta… ¡En México siempre hay un xochitzin con el que te puedes topar! (Especially when compared to here, this city seems dead… In Mexico, there’s always an xochitzin (?) you can run into !)”

As the Chilean nods, you keep getting quite confused. You know you’re from Mexico City, you know you’re American, yet somehow there is like… a piece of the puzzle missing. You keep on thinking strange words like “Mexihco Hueyaltepetl” or “ihni”, and you know it’s not Spanish, nor English – not that you would know too much of that language.

You continue thinking as your body starts feeling strange, as you feel it shifting. You put your hand on your forehead and sense your wrinkles relaxing. You feel quite queasy…

“¿Estás bien? (Are you alright ?) - Me siento un poco mareada… (I feel a bit dizzy…) - Sólo tienes que ir al baño. ¿Quieres que te ayude? (Just go to the toilets. You want me to help ?) - No, estará bien. Tlazohcamati. (No, it’s gonna be alright. (???)) - Okay… eh... ¿Eres indígenas? (Okay… er… Are you a Native American ?)”

You don’t answer the Chilean, only giving him a small wave to thank him. You find your way to the toilets, still queasy, and look at yourself.

You’ve got your usual short black hair, your nascent beard that doesn’t want to come along, your brownish tint, as well as your light muscles. Nothing looks out of place, yet something seems wrong.

Is it the fact that you are so youthful ? You know you’re quite twinky. Is it the fact that your skin looks weird ? You know that it’s clearer than the other’s because your mother is gringo.

You feel even more queasy, as you feel your entire body tensing. Memories come back of your time in the gym, but also of the time with all your xochitzmeh (bros)… Yes, you now remember how you’re the son of an American linguist and a Nahua man. How you grew up speaking Nahuatl along with the other kids from around Mexico City. How you started going to the gym to prove that gays aren’t cuiltemeh (sissies/fags). How you now cringe to that line of thought, yet continue doing it to attract guys.

As the pieces of your life go back together, your queasiness dissipates, and you feel better. You drink a bit of water, and then you go back to the hangout room. As you go in there, the Chilean hails you once again.

“¡Charlie! ¿Esta mejor? (Charlie ! Doing better ?)”

Laughable, “Charlie” is only the nickname your grandparents use when you’re at their house… Why does that guy even know it ?

“¡Mi nombre no es Charlie, es Carlos! ¡Carlos Zopiyactle! (My name isn’t Charlie, it’s Carlos ! Carlos Zopiyactle !)” You say in a very matter-of-fact fashion. - Lo siento, pensé que te llamabas Charlie… (Sorry, I thought that you were named Charlie...) - No es nada. (It’s nothing.)” You answer with a very Mexican accent, aspirating your ‘s’. “Pero, tengo que irme ahora. ¡Adiós! (However, I need to go now. Goodbye !) - ¡Adiós, Carlos! (Goodbye, Carlos !)”

You leave the room, go past the receptionist who smiles at you a bit weirdly, and make your way back to your grandparent’s home. You don’t really like going there, because you’re not very good in English, but eh. Pleasing your mom is a good enough reason.

Suddenly, you hear a very familiar-sounding sound from your phone. You open it, seeing a notification, smile, and answer it before calling your mother.

“¡Cualli teotlaltzintli! ¡Amo niyaz tlacualpan! (Good evening ! I’m not going to be there for dinner !) - Pff… ¡Aic timotlamahzehua nanmonahuac! (Pff… You never come eat with us !) - Nomati, pero tengo cosas que hacer. (I know, but I have things to do.)” You say, switching back a bit to Spanish. - ¿Zannima tihual mocuepaz? (You will come back soon ?) - Quema. Nantli, nimitz nequi. (Yes. Mom, I love you.) - Ohuihqui nimitz nequi. (I love you too.)”

You finish the call and smile. She doesn’t have to know that you’re missing the family dinners to be pounded. Those jocks on Grindr don’t know what your pseudonym “Moiztactlaca” means, but it sounds foreign, and they love it.

Soon, you’re going back home to Mexico City, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t take advantage of all the hot guys here in the meantime !

Adjusting To His New Reality

There’s just something so incredibly erotic yet wrong to be licking and tasting his jock neighbor’s armpits, Finneas thought to himself. Not that he had any plans of ever stopping the worship of his new body. His asshole of a neighbor had not only been a huge pain in his ass since his wealthy parents moved in next door, but also quickly become the object of his desires.

Now, the Chronivac had completely erased his old body and life from existence, and quickly transferred all that belonged to the former jock to him. His accumulated wealth, his perfect fit body… even his dank messy room…

Gone were the posters of video games and music groups, replaced by pictures of body builders, cars, and busty blonde women. His music instruments, his closet, now being fully replaced by work out equipment and work out clothes instead.

Surprisingly yet fortunately though, only his room had been affected. Stepping outside showed his normal house, and downstairs his parents were still as kind and humble as before, even though their pockets were now overflown with cash.

And as he would later find out, everyone now recognized him as Finneas, the rich jock. Part of the school orchestra, but also a main player in the school’s football team. Loved, respected, and lusted by literally everyone.

For now though, he just wanted to play with himself. Feel, smell, and taste what his new perfect body had to offer. Maybe he’d even invite the hot straight QB over to help him worship his body. After all, with the Chronivac in his hand… anything was possible…

Melorius's shop: Thank you for your service

Adam stepped into the small, dimly lit Halloween shop without a clue that tonight would be anything but normal. He hesitated for a long time before deciding to go the office party. At 42, he really was finding those kinds of events more and more boring. He was late to get a costume, and with the Halloween party in just a few hours, he didn’t want to show up empty-handed, even more because Nathalie, his coworker he had kind of a crush on since she was hired a couple of months ago, would be here. Adam looked all day long but couldn’t find anything he liked or at his size. The last place on the block he didn’t check was this weird little hole-in-the-wall shop, a place he wouldn’t normally visit. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

As he walked in, the smell of old leather and musty costumes filled the air. Racks of outlandish outfits surrounded him, superheroes, clowns, knights, cowboys, Indians but none of them felt right. He wasn’t trying to win a costume contest. He just wanted something easy, fun, and simple that might bring him some points with Nathalie.

"Looking for something special?" came a smooth voice from behind the counter.

Adam turned to see an older man standing there, wearing a sharp suit that didn’t fit the vibe of the place at all. His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, his thin lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.

“Uh, yeah,” Adam replied, “Just something for a party. Nothing too flashy.”

The man, whose nametag read Mister Melorius, gave a knowing nod. "I think I’ve got just the thing for you." Without waiting for Adam to respond, he disappeared behind a curtain and came back holding a dark, pressed military uniform. Adam was about to say no thanks when a shimmer of the dogtag caught his attention on the uniform. He thought for a second and as a reflex, his hands reached for the costume. Maybe it could work he started to think.

"Try it on," Melorius said, handing it over with a strangely eager smile.

Adam nodded and took the uniform, heading into the changing room. It felt… strange in his hands. Light but sturdy, with a coolness to the fabric. As soon as he touched it, something seemed to tug at him, a pull he couldn’t explain.

He quickly undressed, neatly folding his 3 pieces royal blue costume and red tie, then slid the uniform over his body. The trousers clung to his legs perfectly, and when he zipped up the jacket, it felt as if it had been tailored specifically for him. But just as he finished adjusting the collar, a sudden warmth spread through him, like someone had flipped a switch inside his body.

“Whoa…” he whispered, looking in the mirror to see his reflection only to be met with weird sensations invading his lower half.

His breath hitched as a deep, pulsing warmth gathered in his chest and spread outwards. He watched, wide-eyed, as his reflection began to change. His shoulders, narrow and unremarkable, slowly began to broaden. Muscles thickened beneath his skin, his traps rising higher, giving him a solid, athletic look, he never had. His biceps bulged, veins snaking under the skin as they expanded, stretching the sleeves of the uniform.

Adam’s arms swelled as they filled with muscle, his forearms thickening to match. His fingers, once slim and soft, grew thicker and calloused as if he’d been doing pull-ups and handling weapons for years. He tried to flex his hand, but the strength in his grip now felt foreign, almost as if he didn’t recognize his own power.

His chest pushed out next. He gasped, watching as his pecs thickened, rising up under the fabric of the uniform. Each breath he took made his pecs swell even more, the fabric pressing tight against them. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the firm slabs of muscle there, and while his body was filling out with youthful strength, no chest hair sprouted. Instead, there was just a faint happy trail starting beneath his belly button, leading down into his waistband.

But it wasn’t just his chest. His abs rippled underneath the uniform, once undefined but now clear and sharp as if carved from stone. Each muscle tightened, becoming more pronounced, a solid six-pack replacing the soft stomach he’d grown used to over the years.

"What's happening?!" Adam muttered; his voice slightly higher than before. He tried to tug at the collar, but his hands were trembling. He watched his legs next, his thighs, once lean, ballooned with muscle, stretching the fabric of the pants until they hugged every powerful curve. His calves followed, thickening with each passing second, as if he had spent years running drills and hiking with heavy gear.

Adam felt a strange tightness in his groin. His cock, which had been a respectable 5.5 inches before, began to throb. He looked down, his heart pounding as he watched it grow harder in his pants. But instead of stopping, it kept swelling. The pressure inside his trousers grew unbearable as his cock thickened, stretching longer, now standing at a solid 9 inches when fully erect. His balls, too, grew heavier, tugging down into the tight space of his trousers. The weight of them sent an odd thrill up his spine.

He felt every change in vivid detail, the growing weight between his legs pulling more of his attention as his balls swelled, stretching the skin tight. It wasn’t just physical, his mind seemed to grow fuzzy as well. He clutched his head, trying to hold onto who he was, but each throb in his nuts seemed to drain away another part of his mind, like his very memories were slipping away.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he groaned, trying to focus on his reflection only to realize his face starting to change, to regress. In front of him, his hair started to grow back and took a light brown color, his skin tighten on his bones and muscles and his eyes cleaned of any sight disease..

The muscles in his back stretched next, widening, growing strong as if molded for carrying heavy packs. His spine straightened, the tightness there easing as his posture improved, making him stand taller. His entire frame had become lean but muscular, the body of someone fresh out of boot camp. His feet felt cramped as they grew too, filling out and pushing against the leather of his enw combat boots.

The reflection staring back at him was unrecognizable now, his youthful face smooth and sharp, his jawline chiseled. He was 19 again, with the fresh vigor of someone who had just graduated from military school. His eyes gleamed with a new confidence, the innocence of his late twenties long drained away.

Adam, frozen in surprise and incomprehension in his new 19 years old self wanted to scream for help. He grabbed the curtain of the dressing room only to realize something just woke up a bit lower.

His cock twitched again, harder this time, filling his pants with precum as it continued to throb. The uniform was pressing tight against his groin, the sensation making him grit his teeth. Adam felt like he was falling mentally, his old life, his name, his personality, everything that made him himself was being funneled into his swelling nuts, filling them with the essence of his past self. He tried to fight it, gripping his thickened biceps and flexing his jaw, but the pleasure was too much.

“Oh… fuck,” Adam gasped, his cock leaking steadily now, every pulse sending another piece of who he used to be into the pit of his balls. His mind was going blank. Everything about his past, the awkward college days, his old job, his straight lifestyle, was swirling away, replaced by a fresh, cocky attitude that fit his new body like a glove.

Adam felt the last grip he had on his old life give up in his brain as he mentally heard a Gulp sound and without touching himself, he came. His cock twitched violently in his trousers, releasing rope after rope of thick cum into the fabric, soaking through. His knees almost buckled, his muscles tensing as his orgasm washed over him. Every shot of cum seemed to drain away the last remnants of Adam. He groaned, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as it spurted again, marking the end of his transformation.

His breathing slowed, the intense pleasure fading, leaving him standing there in the dressing room. Adam blinked, his expression now one of cocky satisfaction. His body was exactly what it should be, perfectly toned, fresh out of military school, ready to take on any challenge. He gave his bulging biceps a flex, smirking at his reflection.

Just as the last of his cum soaked through his uniform pants, there was a flash of light.

When his eyes adjusted, Adam found himself standing in a dimly lit room, surrounded by cheering soldiers. The Halloween Initiation party was in full swing, but this was no normal party. The barracks were filled with the scent of sweat and musk, and the energy in the room was electrifying. The blue-balled soldiers had been playing games of dares all night while drinking alcohol and thinning about their girls back home. They were taking turns on each other, their pent-up frustration boiling over into raw sexual energy as each other companies was the only thing available for them at the moment.

Adam's cock, still half-hard from his transformation, twitched at the sight. He wasn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter what it involved. His cocky grin widened as one of the guys, a bulky lance caporal sauntered over.

“New guy, huh? Hope you’re not shy,” the private smirked, pointing toward the center of the room where a game of dares was already heating up. Guys were taking turns on each other, sucking, fucking, the air thick with tension, laugh and alcohol.

“Shy? Never,” Adam said, the words rolling off his tongue like second nature. His old self would have been horrified, but that part of him was long gone. Now, all he felt was the thrill of the challenge, his cock already hardening again at the thought of taking one of those dares.

Within moments, Adam found himself stripped down to his uniform pants, standing in the circle of horny soldiers. His cock stood at attention, rock hard, dripping precum as the dares flew around the room. One soldier dared him to take one in the ass to prove he was one of them, and Adam’s grin only widened.

“Bring it on,” he said, his voice steady, confident.

Across the room, another soldier, Ryan, a tall, ripped guy with a mischievous smirk, caught Adam’s eye. Ryan had a reputation for never backing down from a challenge either, and tonight was no different.

“Alright, new kid,” Ryan called out, voice booming over the music. “You think you’ve got the guts to take on me? I bet you can’t last more than four minutes before I make you tap out. And if you think you can, then let’s make it interesting, I’ll fuck you, and if you make me cum first, you win. But if I fuck you senseless before the clock runs out, you’re mine for the rest of the night!”

The crowd hooted and hollered, clearly loving the idea. Adam, never one to back down, chuckled and shrugged, stepping forward. “You’re on,” he grinned, puffing out his chest as if the challenge didn’t faze him at all. Inside, his nerves tingled with a mix of excitement and tension. His old self would’ve balked at the idea, but the new Adam? He was born for this.

Ryan smirked and cracked his knuckles, stepping forward, already unbuttoning his pants while some of the guys set up a makeshift timer. Adam, shirtless, his abs and pecs glistening with sweat, kicked off his boots and started to peel off his uniform pants, his semi-hard cock springing free to a chorus of cheers and whistles from the guys around him. The thought of bending over for the first time sent a shiver down his spine, but instead of hesitation, all Adam felt was excitement. He was ready to win this bet and prove he was worth being one of them.

They positioned themselves in the center of the room. Adam braced himself on his hands and knees, his ass in the air, and his cock still throbbing as it brushed against the cold floor. The crowd gathered close, cheering and egging them on, chanting Adam’s name. Ryan loomed over him, his own cock hard and dripping, ready to go.

With no further delay, Ryan pushed his cock against Adam’s tight, virgin hole, and the moment Ryan started to press inside, Adam gritted his teeth. A sharp pain shot through him, his body tensing instinctively. The stretch was intense, way more than he’d expected, but he wasn’t going to back down. No way. Not with all these guys watching, cheering him on.

“Hah! You good down there?” Ryan teased, but Adam just barked a laugh through the pain.

“Hell yeah, I’m good. Just fuckin’ do it, man,” Adam shot back, shaking his head, trying to ease himself into the sensation. He wasn’t about to give Ryan the satisfaction of seeing him break.

The crowd roared as Ryan pushed deeper, and Adam’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel every inch of Ryan’s cock stretching him wide, filling him up. It hurt like hell at first, his ass clenching tight, but Adam just grinned through it, biting down on his lip, determined to win.

He could hear the timer start ticking. He just had to hold out, just had to make Ryan cum first.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, hotshot,” Ryan growled and started to thrust, his hips slamming forward, his cock driving into Adam with rough, forceful strokes. Adam gasped, his body jolting with every powerful thrust, but instead of crumbling, he let out a breathless laugh.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Adam taunted, grinning as he glanced over his shoulder, catching the strain on Ryan’s face.

Ryan’s cock pounded into him, faster, harder, his grip tightening on Adam’s hips as he tried to get the upper hand. But no matter how rough it got, no matter how much it burned and stretched Adam’s hole, he refused to give in. The cheers from the guys around him only fueled his determination.

“C’mon, Ryan, don’t hold back now!” Adam shouted over his shoulder, half-laughing, half-moan escaping him as the pleasure started to edge out the pain. He could feel his own cock twitching beneath him, leaking pre-cum onto the floor as Ryan’s relentless fucking started to push him closer to the edge. But it wasn’t about him. He had to make Ryan lose it first.

And Ryan was struggling. Adam could feel it in the way his thrusts were getting sloppier, the way his breath was coming in ragged gasps. His cock was twitching inside him, his composure cracking with every second that ticked by. Adam’s muscles tightened, and he arched his back just a little, pushing his ass up to meet Ryan’s thrusts, making it even harder for him to hold back.

“You gonna cum for me, Ryan?” Adam teased, voice ragged, but still full of that cocky confidence. The guys around them cheered louder, and Adam fed off their energy, his grin widening. He was close to winning. He could feel it.

Ryan let out a guttural moan, his hands digging into his hips as he tried to hold out, but Adam wasn’t going to give him a chance. He clenched his ass tight around Ryan’s cock, squeezing him hard, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, Ryan’s hips stuttered, and Adam felt the sudden warmth of Ryan’s cum spilling deep inside him. The crowd erupted into cheers, fists pumping into the air as Ryan lost the challenge. Adam let out a triumphant laugh, his chest heaving, body shaking with the intensity of the moment.

Ryan slumped forward, panting heavily as he pulled out, but Adam was already standing up, grinning ear to ear, his own cock still hard, bobbing between his legs as the crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, shouting congratulations.

“You fuckin’ did it!” one of them laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You made him blow in under four minutes!”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Adam grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He could still feel the dull ache in his ass, but it didn’t matter. He had won, he was one of them, and the rush of victory coursed through him like fire.

The crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, congratulating him, Ryan approached from behind. The tall, ripped soldier, still catching his breath from their intense initiation challenge, gave Adam a smirk that spoke volumes. Without warning, Ryan wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. Adam grinned, thinking it was just part of the celebration, the camaraderie of the guys after a wild challenge.

But as Ryan leaned in, his breath hot against his ear, his voice dropped to a low, rough whisper. “You may be one of us now, Adam,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down his spine, “but you’re still gonna be my bitch from now on.”

Adam’s grin faltered for a moment, his heart skipping a beat as the meaning of Ryan’s words sank in. Before he could react, Ryan’s hand slid down his bare back, slipping lower until his fingers brushed against his still-sloppy hole. The touch was sudden, intimate, and before Adam could even think to protest, Ryan pushed one thick finger inside, pressing against his sensitive, overstimulated prostate.

The sensation hit him like a freight train. His body jolted forward, muscles tensing, and his cock, still hard and twitching, suddenly erupted. Adam’s eyes widened as he came, hands-free, his cock pulsing and shooting ropes of hot cum onto the floor beneath him. His legs trembled, barely able to keep him upright as the orgasm tore through him, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Ryan chuckled softly into Adam’s ear, his finger still teasing his prostate, milking every last drop of cum from him. The crowd didn’t notice, too wrapped up in another challenge thrown to another new private first class, but Adam’s world narrowed down to the overwhelming sensation of Ryan’s control over his body, the undeniable pleasure, and the sharp sting of submission.

As Adam’s orgasm finally ebbed, leaving him breathless and trembling, Ryan pulled his finger out, giving his ass a possessive slap. “Good job, Private First Class Adam,” Ryan muttered, amusement lacing his voice. Then, without another word, Ryan stepped away, blending back into the group, leaving Adam standing there, dazed, his cock still dripping, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

The other soldiers continued to cheer and party, unaware of the intimate moment that had just transpired, but he knew. He felt it deep in his bones, his new life, his new body, and now, his new place in the barracks.

He was Private First Class Adam, the cocky, easygoing guy who never backed down from a challenge. But now, as he watched Ryan disappear into the crowd, his heart still racing, he realized something else.

He may be one of them, but Ryan had claimed him all the same. And Adam wasn’t sure he minded at all.

...

Back in the store, Mister Melorius went on and grabbed the folded blue 3 pieces costume to put it up for sell, a brand new “40 yo engineer costume” was ready to be sold to someone else. ______________________________________________________________

Hey! Here is today's story. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always let me know what you think of it and feelf ree to send inbox messages if you want to see what Mister Melorius has in store for you. See you soon!