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Meeting Your Idol: Alex Crockford

For years now, Philip had been a big fan of fitness guru Alex Crockford. Not only did he love to watch the man’s IG workouts, but he also found himself incredibly attracted to the man. His body was incredibly impressive, so along with the tattoo on his left shoulder and his gorgeous face, it was a no-brainer as to why Philip was so drawn to the man. This attraction had only increased when he discovered that Alex lived somewhat close to where Philip resided. So when Alex stated on an Instagram story that he was going to do a free fitness class at Philip’s local gym, you couldn’t believe the excitement he felt about meeting his idol! He wanted to make a great impression so badly that he desired to dress well for the man. However, upon considering the idea, that thought quickly flew out of his head as he thought about working out in his best suit and soaking it in his sweat. 

On the day of the event, Philip was a nervous wreck as he entered the room and gained a spot in the front row of the class. Not only was he going to be super close to his idol, but he was also going to basically be face-to-face to the man’s body. Just the thought of Alex’s body getting caked in his own sweat throughout his intense workout left Philip’s dick quickly trying to showcase itself from inside his black athletic shorts. With such an over-eager dick already trying to make its presence known, Philip was unsure how he was going to be able to keep it together for the whole event.

Upon Alex’s arrival, Philip couldn’t help but let a slight gasp escape from his mouth upon catching the sight of Crockford. Luckily, there were a fair amount of women who gasped as well, so Philip’s high-pitched gasp was able to be properly concealed in secret. “Let’s get to work guys!” Alex said as he quickly turned on some sort of workout mix and began to teach his class. To Philip’s surprise (and relief), as the workout progressed, he found it hard to pop a boner when he was doing such intense training. He knew that Alex tended to do hardcore workouts, but he foolishly thought he would be able to handle it. Not even halfway through it, Philip was growing incredibly overwhelmed and worn out. Hell, he was too tired to even get hard as Alex accidentally bumped into him as he walked past while checking on other members in the class.

Once the class was over, just like Philip, a fair amount of his classmates stayed behind to try and talk to the hunky trainer and his assistant, who was annoyed from being stuck taking photos of them together. Wanting to have some alone time with his fitness idol and crush, Philip stayed in the back of the room as he watched Alex deal with all of the flirtatious women who didn’t care that he was a married man. Sure, Philip could understand the attraction to the man, but he would never openly flirt with someone who was clearly straight and in such a happy relationship.

Letting the last woman walk out, Philip gingerly began to step forward to Alex as he was putting away his remaining gear. “Hey there man, did you enjoy the class today?” Alex asked, which caused the fan to nod his head. “Yeah, I was a big fan of it. It was intense… but it was incredible!” Philip stated, which caused a chuckle to escape from Alex’s mouth. “You’re right, but that intensity is the best way to get jacked right?” he responded, which caused a smile to form on Philip’s face. He couldn’t believe he was really talking with his idol like they were friends.

“So, uh, I just wanted to say that you’re a big inspiration for me!” Philip said, which caused Alex’s head to perk up as the man continued. “Like, I’m still building my body to look like how I envision it, but I’d love to have a body like yours!” Philip said, which caused the trainer to smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I think you’re already off to a great start!” Alex responded, which caused Philip to feel butterflies in his stomach.

“Would you like to take a photo?” Alex asked, which made the eager fan grin and nod his head up and down in approval. Eager about the opportunity, Philip quickly unlocked his phone and handed it to Alex’s assistant as the two men wrapped their arms around each other’s waists and began to pose for a couple photos. After the second photo, Alex suggested they do a pose of them flexing, which Philip quickly agreed to with a big beaming smile. As they each threw up an arm and flexed, the camera flashed a bright white light that completely enveloped the two fit men.

As the light receded and revealed the empty gym room once more, Philip felt strange as he suddenly realized that his right arm was up instead of his left. Looking over to it, his face went into a look of confusion as he was greeted to the sight of a bicep that seemed bigger than usual. To add to his perplexity, his black shirt was now a blue shirt, just like Alex’s…

Turning his head to his left, Philip jumped as he caught sight of his own body still holding up his left arm in a flex. “Hey…” Philip said, poking his body in the shoulder and watching as it suddenly returned from its dazed state. To his surprise, his body didn’t have an equal look of shock manifested across his face upon turning to him. Instead, it was a look of… nervousness and admiration. “Thank you again for taking a photo with me Mr Crockford…” his former body said as he took his cell phone back from the assistant. Scrolling through the camera roll, Philip watched his former body smile and wave goodbye before moving towards the door. He couldn’t believe it, Alex didn’t know that they had swapped bodies! “Hey Philip!” the new Alex called out, which caused the real Alex to stop and look back at him with wide eyes upon the mention of his name.

Standing there looking at his former body, Philip weighed the options of his situation. He could inform the man that he was the real Alex Crockford and they had swapped bodies… or Philip could keep this body and secret for himself. It wouldn’t be a bad life to have, becoming his fitness crush and living a life of wealth with a wife. In fact, that seemed quite better than the alternative he originally had. “Oh uh” Philip said as he made up his mind. “Tag me in those photos when you post them!” he continued, which caused his former body to nod before walking out of the room and into his new life completely oblivious about who he used to be. 

With his assistant asking if he was ready to head home, Philip smiled as he said yes and grabbed his materials. He was unsure of what home was entirely, but he was excited to find out what it was as Alex Crockford. Despite his slight guilt for leaving the real Alex trapped in his former body, Philip’s conscience wasn’t too affected given that the man clearly had no idea. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him…” Philip said under his breath as he took one last selfie before exiting the gym and entering his new life as fitness legend Alex Crockford.

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“Watch where you’re going!” snapped the businessman, Sam Milton, the newly made CEO of his father’s business. Hot coffee spilled over his suit as he quickly wiped away, glaring at the speedo wearing shirtless and skimpy man in front of him that had bumped into him. They held a rainbow flag in hand as Sam instantly knew he was from the pride parade that was nearby.

“Sorry mate,” came the relaxed and British sounding voice of the shirtless man, Sam felt he saw him somewhere as a model, but he wasn’t sure why he would ever remember that as he glared at him, as a barista came rushing over.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Milton, sir, could I get you a new order?” questioned the barista quickly, Sam shrugged.

“It’s fine, not like he put anything in the coffee,” Sam joked as he took a sip, not ever noticing the slightly tangy taste that came from the hot substance inside as he finished wiping himself off before leaving.

On the way to work, he found himself finishing the coffee before finally entering his office, sitting down with the skyline behind him, his assistant had already left a stack of files and things to do. Sam started to get to work, reviewing reports, as he started to find himself sweat. It was small at first, droplets on the back of his hand before beads started to run down his forehead. “Why isn’t the AC on?” Sam muttered, coughing as he noticed the odd gruffness off his voice, he started to unbutton himself, taking off his tie.

And then his dick started to become erect. Sam shuffled and stifled in his seat as thoughts of the parade came across his mind, not realising that he had been straight before, he just had a date yesterday! His hand slowly started to find itself on his thigh, wanting to inch closer and closer to his needy cock, he shouldn’t be doing this at work of all places, but his mind could barely respond, and his fingers grew closer and closer, coiled towards the very edge of his length and then-

“Sir,” A knock came at the open door, as his assistant stood firm in the doorway, giving them a warm smile. Sam instantly picked his hand away, focusing on them as best he could, only thinking about his body, those fuckable lips…Why was he thinking about that? Damn it, he needed to focus!

“Yes?” Sam’s voice sounded odd and distorted, he coughed to try and cover it up, wondering what was happening as sweat continued to sheen off skin.

“The investor, Mr. Clarke is on the line, the one to call about our next quarter,” informed the assistant, Sam nodded as they gave him one last smile before walking away back to their desk and closing the door behind them. Sam instantly picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mr. Milton,” Sam’s voice only grew rougher and rougher, as he felt his hand clutched around his cock through his suit pants, unable to stop himself as he started to see his hand, slowly growing paler and paler, the fingers felt longer as they started to grow and expertly maneuvered around his head.

“Mr. Milton, is it? I’m Julius Clarke of Clarke Foundations, I just wanted to speak to you briefly…” The voice paused as Milton couldn’t help but emit a low groan as he could feel his other hand starting to grow larger, wrapping around the phone in his hand as his other teased the head of his lengthening cock, starting to slither down towards his thighs as the first tears at the seams of his pants could be heard. “Mr. Milton, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a-head-” Sam yelped as his fingers stroked over the tip of his cock, the more they played with him, the more he felt himself growing as more rips were spreading in his pants, revealing more of the muscular mass of his legs underneath that started to grow, “of myself. Carry on.” Sam quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth as he started to see his cock poke through the top of his boxers and pants, throbbing as the suit pants were shedding away.

“As some of you know, some of our recent investors have been a pain in the ass-” Sam almost fell from his chair, now his knuckle stone white as it grabbed at the edge of his desk, feeling his chair pushed away slightly from under him as Sam felt his cheeks spread apart, hairs growing on the back as they began to grow and tear away the Calvin Klein boxers and seat of his pants. “And not to mention the fact that they’ve been clearly ripping us off.” The rest of the pants ripped away as Sam felt his thighs thickening, growing in muscularity as they became lean and long, stretching out beyond the desk and causing Sam to fall on his knees, only his office shirt on as he resisted the urge to moan at the feeling of his calves growing.

“Yeah, we- we should come-” Sam felt his cock twitch, still growing in girth and elongating as it flopped down between his legs, looking paler and larger as pre-cum dripped. “I mean, get over there and sort…sort it out.” Sam couldn’t breathe if he kept talking, trying to stop himself from panting and groaning as he felt his feet start to crawl forward, looking over his shoulder as his dress shoes began to split, the black shiny soles as his large pale feet started to poke through.

“Exactly, now I think you could be a strong competitor,” started the investor, the moment he said strong, Sam felt his arms flex themselves, needlessly watching the rest of the buttons from his tight shirt spray into the air as they were flexed off. Sam had always been fit, but this was something else as he started to cup his new pecs that became extremely large, swelling to the point where he could barely believe they were real. The muscular power flowed through his stomach, his once lean abs now became stronger and sturdier, growing and thickening as they were now deep crevices in his stomach. “I’m hosting a gala soon, where we could discuss this with some other members who are interested in a coalition of sorts, would you be interested?”

“Sorry,” Sam couldn’t tell if he was apologising to the investor for the noises or the meeting as he felt himself near writhing on the ground, the phone still barely in hand as he continued sweating, his cock throbbing.

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was having some people coming all the way from Britain,” It was then Sam started to find his mind rearranging, new accents and words fading in and out as he couldn’t even remember what it was like to start speaking with an American accent, his own groans and muffled moans started to sound different in his deep voice that lingered on with a new London accent. “Well, I will speak to you soon then, here’s hoping you can still come.” With that, everything went blank, business, statistics, stock prices, and so much more as Sam saw nothing but white as his dick throbbed and delivered the best orgasm of his life, spraying and coating his entire body and desk with his own cum, every single orgasm erasing Sam Milton as the American businessman, now replaced with the London model as he began to moan out loud, writhing in his own pleasure as he came again…and again…and again.

“Oh fucking hell mate, where the fuck am I?” Sam muttered to himself as he started to look around, standing up behind his desk now as a naked muscular hunk dripping with cum and sweat.

Some time had passed after the incident, Sam couldn’t remember what he was doing that day but now found himself too busy to care. The business was taken over by his father until his son was “feeling better”. His dad now started going to the same coffee shop as he did with the same guys who came from the same parade every year. It was only a matter of time before he followed his son’s footsteps.

As for Sam Milton, well he now found himself posing on the billboard across from his old office, modelling for the makeup company; Clarke Foundations. 

Paxton Learns His Lesson - Collab with Aardvark

Paxton is a delinquent whose mother has had enough. He’s not happy when she sends him to live with his grandparents in sleepy Hart’s Landing, but the town comes to grow on Paxton in a most dramatic way. - Written by myself and @aardvarkia.

To say Paxton Montcalm wasn’t pleased with his situation was an understatement.

It was stupid, really. All he’d done was take his teacher’s pepper spray and air it out underneath his desk. How the hell was he supposed to know that was considered poisoning other people and assault with a deadly weapon…? Or whatever the judge said - Paxton had hated his fat face, so he hadn’t paid much attention beyond “you’re in trouble now, you little fuck-up!” (Yeah, no shit. He had noticed he was in court, thanks.)

He’d done his community service, apologized, even sucked up a little, but the adults just were not satisfied. Paxton had decided fine, fuck them, he’d just do what he wanted again. No one seemed to give a shit when he tried to make amends. And then he’d snuck out after curfew and gotten caught by some roided-up cop. DeSanto or something. His mother had had enough and informed him that he was going to spend the summer in Hart’s Landing, South Carolina with his grandparents.

“That’s not fair!” Paxton had protested. Upon seeing the thunderous look his mother had shot back, he’d blanched.

“No, I’ll tell you what’s not fair, little boy!” she’d roared, jumping up from the table. “What’s not fair is that I have to continually leave work to bail your ass out, using up my hard-earned cash. I’m a waitress, Paxton. I don’t even make minimum goddamn wage! I can barely afford the rent, everyone either ignores me, thinks I’m a shitty parent, or pities me! The fact that you’ve been here as long as you have is a downright miracle and, frankly, a testament to my patience!” She’d stopped, taken a deep breath, and lit up a cigarette, walking to the sink and taking a long drag. Holding it in, she had opened the window, exhaled, then hung her head. “You’re going. That’s final. Now go to your room. You don’t have to sleep, but I don’t want to look at you.”

Before Paxton could really process this - his mother had never exploded at him before, despite all the dumb shit he’d done - he was on a bus down to South Carolina. It was a long ride from Brooklyn, but he’d managed to pass the time by chatting up some cute chicks and reading a copy of FLEX he’d nicked from one of the bus terminals.

The bus stop wasn’t far from his grandparents’ house, and they met him there. Grandma Rose and Grandpa Walker were just how he remembered them from their last visit on his 10th birthday. Old, decrepit, and kind of smelly.

“Oh, just look at you!” Rose cooed, pinching his cheek and giving him a big kiss. She left a bright red lipstick print on his cheek.

“Hi, gram,” he muttered.

“Stand up straight,” Walker ordered, “and march. I know full well what you did, and I won’t have any of that tomfoolery in my house. You hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Paxton replied sarcastically.

And that had gotten him dragged two blocks to his grandparents’ bungalow by his ear.

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One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys

--- Originally posted by TheBurdenBorne before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

"Excuse me ma'am, have you seen my son in your store?"

I had searched every store in the mall and was beginning to worry. Jake usually was fine on his own, but when we met his friend Riley her at the mall and they wanted to go off shopping by themselves, I should have seen this coming.

"What does he look like?" said the young woman.

"Well, he was with a friend. They're both fourteen. Jake is skinny, has blonde hair -- sort of a skater look to him. Riley has brown hair, a little heavier. Have you seen them?"

"Hmm...was he wearing a black hoodie?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Two guys came in here that sort of sound like your son and his friend. One of them left a hoodie in the dressing room. Do you want to see?"

"I guess so," I said as I nervously followed the girl to the back of the store. When we entered the dressing room, I could hear two guys talking.

"Dude. That suit totally rocks!" "I know right! Can't wait to try it on the waves, dude."

The young man pulled open the door on his stall and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked like he was eighteen -- in the prime of his life. He had shoulder length blonde hair and was clearly a beach-bum surfer type of guy. He was shirtless and wearing only a swimming suit, which showed off his smooth tan chest and lean muscles. His friend was more built, but also shirtless. He had spiky brown hair and was wearing a bone necklace and sunglasses.

"Alright, sir. Here's the hoodie that you were looking for."

"Yeah, that belongs to Jake," I said, still worried that I wouldn't track down my son. But I overheard the two surfer guys again and something pricked up my ears.

"So, Riley. D'ya wanna hit the beach later?" "No prob, man. See ya there, Jake-o"

" Jake-O" I thought to myself. Could these guys coincidentally have the same names as my son and his friend. I had to ask.

"Um...excuse me, but are your names Jake and Riley."

"Yeah, why?" said the blonde.

"Well, I'm looking for my son and his friend. They have the same name."

I saw a look of fear in the blonde surfer's eye, as if he was trying to fight through something and tell me.

"Jake?" I said. "Is that you?"

"Dad?" I heard him whisper. "You have to help us. You have to get out of --" He struggled to say the words, but before he could finish. Riley lunged at me and knocked me into one of the dressing stalls.

"Shh...old man. You're gonna be okay." Jake ran into the stall and helped Riley restrain me. He no longer was trying to help and must have given up the old Jake completely. Riley took off his bone necklace and forced it around my neck. When he did, I felt warm and relaxed. They stood up and let me recover.

"How d'ya feel," asked Riley.

"What are you guys trying to do to me?" I asked.

"Just relax, you'll notice in a moment," said Jake.

I stood up and noticed that my aging 40-yr old body was starting to transform. My gut shrank. My muscles grew strong again. I looked in the mirror and saw my hairline return to the way it was when I was in high school. My hair grew too and looked like it was bleached blonde. As I lost weight and gained muscle, I began to feel young again. I took off my glasses because I didn't need them anymore.

"Here, try this on," said Jake as he handed me a dark red swimsuit. I stripped down naked and saw how tan my skin was. All of the old body hair seemed to fall away and I was left with a smooth tan chest, firm pecs and abs, and a lean, muscular torso. The swimsuit cupped my youthful bulge comfortably and smelled like the ocean.

"Dude, you're almost done."

I listened to Jake and Riley start to talk about surfboards, beaches, and how they were spending their summer vacation. I started to forget the years of marriage, my job at the insurance office, my college years. Everything started to become simple. I had just graduated from high school and was spending my time at the beach surfing. I lifted weights a little, partied, used a skateboard instead of taking the bus. I had no job -- just the beach and my friends.

"Alright, let's hit the beach!"

"See ya there, Riley," I said. "Jake and I will ride together." Jake was my new best friend. I never remember having a son.

As we walked out, the woman running the store turned to me and said, "Glad you found them!"

"Thanks!" I said back.

"C'mon, Nick," I heard Jake call from outside the store.

I had my whole life ahead of me!

The Locker Room

Owen did not belong in the locker room. It was normally a place that he would avoid like the plague, unless he had to. However, today for some reason Alex had summonded him. Owen had no idea why, but Alex was not someone you want to leave waiting.

Owen hoped, desperately hoped that this wasn't going to be another occasion where the football team pounced and him, beat him and made him feel even more worthless than he already felt. He checked his watch.. It was time. He got closer and closer to the locker room and two members of the team were waiting outisde.

"Hey Owen, you made it" said Brad. Brad was a 6 foot tall muscle mountain. The perfect specimen of football player. Owen always felt so small next to them, the fear must have been showing on his face.

"Don't worry, mate" said Rich "you will love what we have in store for you. Rich laid his hand on Owen's shoulder. Somehow this still did not releax him. Rich did not let Owen hesitate and pushed him straight into the sweaty, smelly changing room.

The room was where the team came to chnage and you could smell it. Clothes, shoes, socks strewn about everywhere. However... This was not the biggest worry of the room because tied to a chair looking very bruised was Alex.. Alex was the star player, at least he used to be. It looked like something had happened. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around in panic. Standing behind you was Rhys. Rhys was the second in command, he always followed what he was told by Alex so this scene made you panic even more.

" I bet you want to know whats going on" Rhys said in the most sinister way possible

"I thought i was coming to speak to Alex" Owen replied feeling very tense.

"Well if i had told you I wanted you here, i know you wouldn't have come. You see Alex has been having trails for another team, he was planning to leave the school and take his talents to another team. Coach did not like this so told me to change things if you will" Rhys almost seemed like a super villian at this point. But as he was talking Rich and Brad came into the room and started to strip Alex completely naked. Owen did not know where to look which amused Rhys.

"Since I cannot allow Alex's talent to leave my only choice is to replace him. This is where you come in. We want you to join the team Owen" Rhys started walking round Owen as he spoke.

"How can I join the team? I don't even like sport. I can barely play football" Owen said.

Alex was now naked in his chair. His clothes presented to Rhys. Rich and Brad smiled at Owen as they left the room.

"Because Owen, i want you to become Alex and he will become you forced to live exactly as you do. Wouldn't you like to have a body like his, feel that strong, and feel what it is like to be popular" Rhys knew he was playing into Owen's deep desires. Owen turned to look at Alex who was silenty weeping, knowing his fate was sealed

Owen turned to Rhys and said "how does it work"

"all you need to do, is wear his clothes and when he wears yours you will become each other" Rhys spoke smiling through every word.

Owen put on Alex's socks first. They were clearly fresh off of his feet and for some reason, this excited Owen more. Before he put on the jockstrap he inhaled the smell deeply. He could not wait to put it on. Next the boxers. Everything hanging of slightly Owen continued with the shorts and football shirt.

Owen was now completely in Alex's clothes and the real Alex started to cry. Rhys grew angry at the sight and punched Alex right in the chest.

"Now. You need to dress him in your clothes and you will feel yourself start to change" Rhys exclaimed.

Owen bent down and started with the socks. Alex thought him at every possibility but as the socks slipped on, Owen saw Alex's feet fit perfectly into the socks as his feet started to grow. As Owen slipped his briefs onto Alex, as if by magic, his cock and balls shrank and Owen's new jockstrap fit him perfectly. After his uniform trousers and shirt were on their bodies had perfectly swapped. The only thing missing was the shoes. Rhys had taken his own of and walked behind the new Alex.

"You may have his body, but now I need to rewrite your mind. The smell of my shoe will make you loyal to me. You will always lead this team and be loyal to us" Rhys said. Once he was sure this had sunk in, he removed his shoe. He then picked up Owen's shoes and began to hold it over the new Owen's nose. He left it their until the new Owen's eyes glossed over and passed out.

After about 20 minutes Alex, as he was now to be known came to Rhys was there ready

"Dude... Ya passed out on us, what happened" Rhys said

Alex looked around, felt his body and looked at his hands. Something didn't feel right but he shook it of and said " must have been something i ate". Alex saw Owen laid out on the floor.

"mate, you having fun without me" said Alex as he eyed the nerd passed out

"oh no mate, i was saving him for you" said Rhys as they both proceeded to lay a punch on the nerd. Alex thought to himself, who would ever wanna be like that. All smart and no fun.

If only he knew...

Hi, i was hoping my Touristics trip would take me to Greece?

Well of course we can arrange a journey to Greece, we even have multiple packages to book. Looking at you I think you would it would be good for you to book our Mt. Olympus package. Climb the mountain of gods if you like or drive to the coast, it’s only about 5 minutes by car. But that would be up to you. Oh you would like to climb the mountain first. We can arrange that. 

As you leave my shop, you find yourself on an uncommon street. It isn’t the same you entered the shop through, but you aren’t bothered at all, it feels just right to be here. You wander around and finally a man speaks to you. He is cute, a twink and reveals to have a soft almost feminine voice as he speaks to you: “I have searched for you, you are the tourist the man at Terrence & Ford told me about, aren’t you?” You confirm this and the man leads you down a few roads and then you are able to see your destination, Mt. Olympus.

The little man shows to possess a whole lot of endurance as you climb the mighty peak. Just as he struggles with a particularly high stone you notice his butt, it’s really big from what you see through his pants, and it looks really round and firm. “But wasn’t I supposed to be straight.”, you think as you scratch your head, only the noticing how big your biceps are. You look at them in awe, totally entranced by he twitching of the mighty flexed peaks and the criss-crossing veins running along them. 

Carefully you approach the still struggling mountaineer, grab his ass and help him shove him further up allowing him to climb the rock. Then you reach out and pull yourself up in one fluent motion, earning awestruck gazes from your companion. “Man, it must be nice being this tall.”, he squeaked looking up at your chiseled bearded face.

“Fuck I can’ take it anymore.”, you exclaim in a powerful baritone and pull the man upwards, planting a sensual kiss on his lips, as you rip his pants away, as well as yours. About 10 minutes later you find yourself behind a corner, rapidly jackhammering your new godly cock deep into your companion’s big ass. Another 30 minutes and more than a few loads later you descend down the mountain again.

Though you didn’t reach the peak fully, you still gotta show the mortals on the beach what a true Olympian looks like.

Absolute favorite. A brutal story written masterfully

End of Shift

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My life is over. I’ve been playing a high stakes game, and somehow landed on one side of the odds all the time, but my luck was bound to run out sooner or later. I guess I should be happy that it turned out to be later, but it sucks no less. I got sloppy. I was looking through the items near the cashier, as always, trying to mostly use reflective surfaces to see what was going on, as always. I need to be within 15 feet or latency becomes an issue. Some old lady still using the old wallet was buying KokaKola and a pack of Ziffs. This would be easy, as always. I discreetly pressed my watch as she was ready to make the purchase, activating my EM-swiper. I wouldn’t take much, a few credits more. She probably wouldn’t notice it, or think the store stiffed her, or think she bought two packs of Ziffs and lost one. I’m not stealing to get rich, just to get by.

As the EM-swiper went off a high pitched beeping starts behind me. I barely have time to turn my head enough to see the charging police officer, before he slams me into the side of a KokaKola fridge. Shit, I hadn’t done a survey pass through the store as I always do. I could barely register what he was screaming in my ear. “Drop it,” I realize, and let go of the magazine. He must have thought I had the EM-swiper in my hand. He told me to put my hands against the wall and performed a pat-down. It’s only him, so he must be off duty or not on a real patrol. He empties my pockets on the cashier table. Nothing of value, and certainly not something incriminating. I may not have been fortunate enough to afford academy, but I’m not stupid.

“You are detained under suspicion of committing proximity fraud. Do you understand?” he asks me in that commanding yet bored tone of a laborer having to recite corporate bullshit, only in his case it is in the pretense of justice. “Yes,” I answer him. He doesn’t have anything on me or he would have arrested me right away. Probably. “Put this on to acknowledge you’ve read the Citizen Rights Act and agree to an investigation in this matter.” He hands me a pair of handcuffs to put on. I hesitate for a second. He is behind me and in the way of the store exit. I can stall for time and tell him to recite the CRA, but that immediately counts against you, as it is your duty to know it. I have no choice but to put them on. It’s the latest model. I haven’t seen any up close before. Light, thin, all metal, no key hole. Probably opened remotely or only inside a police cell or some shit. I put them on.

“Turn around, pick up your stuff, and exit the store.” I do as told, turn around and begin to pick up my stuff and put them back where he took them. It’s an older police officer. None of them young, jacked up types. Perhaps he is one of the fair ones. But then I am the criminal, so what good would that do me? There’s a small, black duffle bag by his side. So he is on his way home. Perhaps he is tired. Perhaps I can shake him. Have Leo remove the shackles and then stay low for a fucking long time. Or this just doesn’t amount to anything more than a slap on the wrist. I walk towards the door, him behind me.

“Nice watch,” he says, pointing at my wrist as I reach or the door.

He knows. Unless I can get away now my life is over. All I can think of is the monstrosities the state churn out as punishment. Equal part labor force and sadism. I open the door as little as possible and as soon as I am through I dash down the block. I don’t dare look behind me, but I don’t hear him in pursuit. Halfway down the block I swerve into the alley that cuts across the building and out on the block on the other side. If I can cross that block and then down south I’m in the park and there are plenty of places to hide there.

My hands are not on fire. This surprises me as I look down on my hands, screaming in pain. There is a high pitched sound coming out of the handcuffs, like capacitors charging, but it is continuous. The pain emanating from my hands is something unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. My legs buckle. I know I need to move, somehow, somewhere. It’s just so difficult to think of anything but my hands that are not on fire. It would probably be a good idea to not scream my lungs out, but I don’t really have a choice in that.

Just as suddenly as it started it stops. I’m still writhing in pain, but my hands are not on fire in a much more comforting way. “The payment proxy is in your watch, is it not?” the policeman asks, standing a few steps away. I’m panting, I realize when I attempt to answer him. Panting and sweaty. I can’t manage to speak. I just nod my head.

“The state vs. item RK-220553 finds the defendant guilty to breach of contract with the state, executed by judicial AI 5” he reads off his handheld screen. I’m confused to what just happened. “No trial?” I manage to wheeze out. “You entered into a cooperation contract when you put on the handcuffs, as you are aware of as you claimed to know the Citizens Rights Act. Disobedience at that point allows for immediate trial by AI as long as no forensic work is needed.” He sounded like the same bored cop as he was in the store, reciting memorized text for the thousandth time.

I struggle to get up on my feet. Not only am I shaky, but having my hands locked together makes it surprisingly difficult to get up. “You know, this is bad timing,” the cop starts. “I was on my way home and don’t have all the standard gear. It’s supposed to be a swift punishment, for deterrence, but there is really only one thing I can do.” Why is he so apologetic? He opens the bag and pulls out a fucking tactical human transformer. I’ve never even seen one in person before. He turns it on, selects something on the screen, and points the device towards me. “No, I can…”

This time I am on fire, if only so briefly. There is a blinding light, a pulse of heat, and the smell of burnt plastic. As the transient heat subsides it keeps falling colder and colder. I’m naked. All my clothes have been singed from my body. My watch is gone. My shoes are gone. Underwear gone. And, I realize, my hair is gone. The cop keeps punching in selections in the menus of the devices. I manage to get up on my feet. “Stay on the ground,” he tells me. Not so much as an order, but as an advice. I sit down again and he trains the device on me.

I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not pain exactly. There is something about rewriting the code and cellular structure of your body while your brain is engaged that makes it give up in disbelief. “This can’t be what’s actually happening,” it thinks and gives you completely nonsense sensory interpretations. But it also gives up on all other tasks. Time becomes irrelevant. Critical thinking put on hold. When the device stops you are utterly confused for seconds. Possibly by design, but it makes sense that you can’t rewire the brain in flight without some glitches.

“I want you to stand up,” the cop says in a firm voice. “Who?” I ask, still dazed, just to make sure. “You. Get up on both feet. Take this.” He throws an orange bundle to me, and I feebly grasp for it but my one arm yanks the chain to the cuff of the other arm. The bundle brushes by and lands on the ground next to me. He looks disappointed, more at himself for thinking it would work than on me for not catching it.

I look down at my hand and see something orange in my grip, but it is not the orange that interests my but the grip. My arms, thin from lack of food and nimble from grabbing P2 storage modules out of vendor racks. are enormous. Big, well defined muscles with popped veins going up and around them. They look longer than before and even the hands are larger than they used to be. I can see that not only my arms are different. My chest is all lean and strong-looking as well, the legs have these weird lines showing different groups of muscles under the skin, and I can almost bet that the ground is further down than it used to be. Orange! I’m holding something orange in my hand.

“I only have an emergency kit with me, so not very many options for you I’m afraid. If you had come with me I think they would have found some better use for you, but as I said, I didn’t have much to chose from beside himbot,” the cop said while putting some beat-up looking boots from his bag next to me. He grabs the chain between my cuffs, and both of them pop open instantly, and he folds them up and begins to place them back into the cuff holder in his belt.

There was something he said that was important. Like, really important. I feel cobwebs like I had just been awakened from a deep sleep. “Put on the jock,” he tells me, and again I am confused, but of a different kind. It’s like I urgently need to know what he means, somehow. “You’re holding them in your hand.” I again look down at my hand and see the orange piece of cloth, which obviously is what he meant. I flip it around in my hands and finds it to be an orange jockstrap with a generous pouch. Looking down I also see the reason for that, since my dick and balls are large. Much larger than I remember them to be. I don’t want to keep him waiting, so as quickly as I can manage, with my balance a bit off, I manage to place one leg in each loop and pull up the jockstrap. It neatly collects everything in front into a large orange ball.

Himbot! That’s what he had said. It’s like the government robots but human. What was the I and M now again? Wait, those are just mindless sacks of muscles roaming around doing whatever menial task is available.

“Himbot?” I ask him. “Yes, you are a himbot,” the cop answered. “Put on the shirt.”

I immediately grabbed the orange bundle from the ground I assumed to be the shirt. To my delight I was right and with just a few tries I managed to get it on me. It isn’t a real shirt, but one of those without arms, whatever they are called. Quite a lot of skin showed. The shoulders were bare, as were the sides and the nipples unless you positioned the strings just right. Stringers! It’s called a stringers, or something close to it. I feel so tired thinking of words.

“And the boots”

I grab one of the boots. There is something missing, but I’m not sure what it is. I has something to do with the small holes, I think. Well, the large hole is missing a foot, so I put one in it. Then I put the other foot in the other boot, and looked at the cop to see if he approved. He looks about the same. Good enough I hope.

“Face me and raise your hands” I comply immediately. He is pointing the large gun at me again. I don’t like it, but I must do what he says. He presses a few buttons and then there is a sharp headache.

“Who are you?” “Himbot 220553.” “What is your assignment?” “Walk along path 228-red responding to requests.” “What types of requests?” “Any type of requests.”

Swallowed by the Scroll

Ethan was exhausted from a long day, lying on his bed and scrolling through TikTok like he usually did to unwind. His eyes flicked from one video to the next, barely processing the endless stream of content. After hours of scrolling, he liked a new video and landed on a new one with three dudes on a bed in a messy bedroom. He was about to close the app when a notification popped up on his phone, making him pause.

“Experience the Future! Try the Brand-New Update—Click Here!”

Ethan rolled his eyes, more annoyed than intrigued. He was about to dismiss the ad, his finger hovering over the close button, when his phone suddenly glitched. The screen flickered, and before he knew it, the device clicked on “Yes” by itself.

A brief loading screen appeared, and then the phone emitted a sharp, bright flash of light. His vision blurred, and a strange tingling sensation spread through his hands, rapidly intensifying as it climbed up his arms. Panic surged through him as he watched in horror—his fingers were pixelating, breaking down into tiny particles of light.

“What the hell…?” he managed to gasp, his voice trembling.

The transformation was happening too fast for him to react. His fingers dissolved into streams of binary code, flickering in and out of existence. The sensation was like a thousand tiny ants crawling beneath his skin, as his entire body began to break down into data. His hands, arms, and torso followed, unraveling into digital particles that swirled toward the phone screen.

His heart raced in terror. His molecules, his very essence, were being reduced to raw information, spiraling out of control into the glowing abyss of his phone. The data streams dragged him deeper, every cell, thought, and memory digitizing into a cascade of 1s and 0s. The sensation was overwhelming, like being stretched and compressed all at once, as his consciousness was sucked into the phone. As it was the turn of his head, a last scream of terror and painful agony echoed in the empty apartment as the smartphone fell with a fainted thud on the blanket of his bed. 

Inside, Ethan found himself floating naked in a dark, infinite void, weightless and formless. It was as though he had become a fragment of data, suspended in a sea of information. The void pressed against him, wrapping his consciousness in a digital cocoon. He was there, but he was not—he was data now, an echo of his former self.

The void pulsed with a mechanical hum, breaking the oppressive silence. Out of the darkness, a voice emerged—cold, robotic, devoid of emotion.

“Welcome, User. Digitization complete. Initiating transformation protocol.”

Ethan’s panic spiked. “What… what is this? What’s happening to me?!”

The voice ignored his pleas. “Beginning subject duplication.”

Suddenly, mechanical arms shot out from the darkness, cold and metallic. They wrapped around him, holding him firmly in place by his wrist, weight and ankles as more arms emerged, each equipped with various tools and devices that clicked and whirred ominously. Ethan struggled against them, but the grip was unyielding.

“Commencing body duplication process.”

Ethan felt a sharp pull from both sides as the arms began to stretch him, his very being strained and distorted. It was like being torn apart, his consciousness splitting into separate entities. The sensation was excruciating, as if every fiber of his existence was being unraveled and divided. He could feel himself being pulled in three directions at once, his mind fracturing into three distinct pieces.

With a final, brutal tug, the process was complete. Ethan was no longer one—he had been split into three separate beings. His fragmented consciousness struggled to comprehend the horror of what had just happened as eh could see through 3 pairs of eyes, all trying to understand what happened as he saw 2 other reflections of himself floating in the cold empty void still held by mechanical arms. Each piece of him was aware of the others, yet distinctly separate. He could feel all three bodies at once, but they were no longer his—they were their own.

“Duplication successful. Initiating physical transformation.”

The mechanical arms resumed their work, manipulating each of his newly formed selves with clinical precision. Ethan could feel the changes begin, but his mind was too overwhelmed to fully process them.

The first change he noticed was in his bones. They began to shift and creak, some elongating while others compressed. In one body, his spine stretched, vertebrae expanding and pushing upward, making him taller and leaner. The sensation was like a deep, bone-deep ache that spread through his entire frame. He could feel his legs lengthening, his feet growing larger, toes spreading to accommodate the new size. The muscles in his calves and thighs thickened, adapting to the new height, adding to the power he could now feel surging through this form.

In another body, the opposite was happening. His bones shrank, compressing him down into a shorter, more compact frame. The sensation was disorienting as his field of view lowered, his limbs pulling inward. His feet, once long and slender, became smaller and more compact, with a solid, grounded feel. His muscles tightened around his smaller frame, giving him a stocky, powerful build, dense and strong.

The third body experienced a mix of both, his bones adjusting to a more moderate height. The sensation was less extreme, but no less intense, as his body found a balance between the other two forms. His feet and hands adapted, not too large, not too small, but perfectly proportioned to his new size. His muscles filled out, firm and toned, creating a harmonious build that felt both agile and strong.

As the height and skeletal transformations completed, Ethan’s attention was drawn to the changes in his muscles. They swelled and contracted, his flesh rippling with the force of the transformation. His pecs bulged out, firm and defined, while his abs tightened into a chiseled six-pack. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, a deep, throbbing ache that radiated through his entire body. He could feel the strength in each form, the raw power that came with his new musculature.

“Initiating muscle enhancement.”

Ethan’s muscles began to swell and bulge further, each body undergoing its own transformation. The sensation was all-consuming, muscles thickening and expanding, the strength within them intoxicating yet terrifying. He could feel the power in each form, the heavy, deliberate movements, as if he had become a stranger in his own skin.

The mechanical voice continued its cold narration, describing each step of the transformation as it happened.

“Resuming body enhancement.”

Each of his bodies started to feel a tingle around their crotch, all of them were flooded with intense, confusing sensations. It started as a warmth, a tingling that spread from his core and down into his crotch. His skin prickled with anticipation, the sensation growing more intense by the second.

In one body, his cock started to feel heavy, the weight of his manhood increasing as it grew larger, thicker, more sensitive. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his mind overwhelmed by the raw, primal sensation. His new size was both thrilling and terrifying, the sensitivity almost unbearable as the robotic arms manipulated and adjusted it until it was 10 inches, thick and cut, something way different from his usual 4 inches and a half uncut cock. The arms then went to grab his nuts and as he was wondering what was happening, he felt two needles penetrating them. The data injected started to make them grow to tennis ball size. The added weight and the constant pulling on them by the arms made them grow bigger and lower. The pain was awful for Ethan as it felt like they were about to be teared off, but as he was screaming in pain, the sensation stopped and the arms let go.

In another body, the sensation was different—a tightening, a firming up, as his dick became more compact yet incredibly responsive. The pleasure was sharper, more acute, like a constant pulse that thrummed through his entire being. The tightness added a different kind of strength, a compact power that radiated through his groin, sending waves of pleasure up his spine as it kept getting smaller and more compact and sensitive. When the arm released it, it was now 3 inches uncut cock and very thick. Almost beer can thick. Ethan tried to move to see what happened to this body as he could feel the tension rising up inside of him. Unbeknown to him, the arms started to take hold of his testicles as they started to vibrate and getting smaller and smaller. The same sensation that went through hit cock was now happening to his testicles. When the humming sound stopped and the warm sensation receded, Ethan felt something spread on his sensitive cock head. His new small testicles were now overdriving and he’ll be producing plenty of precum. As the arms let go of his manhood, his new sensitive dick was letting a flow of precum out of his cock.

The third body found a balance between the two, the transformation creating a sense of harmony. The warmth in his groin was a perfect blend of fullness and sensitivity, his body responding with a deep, resonating pleasure that spread through every nerve as his new cock was now 8 inches, thick but not too much, very sensitive, uncut and veiny. Just the sensation of the arms on it would have been enough for him to release. As a matter of fact, as the arms went to modify the balls to make them grow into a perfect dimension for a manly man, they went back to the base of the cock. There an arm approached the base and grabbed it tightly at the base. For Ethan it was almost like an elastic had been strapped around it. He felt constricted and the pulse of his heart was echoing through his whole cock and balls. There another arm appeared and injected his nuts with a weird green glowing liquid. For Ethan it was too much, his already sensitive cock started to spasm as the arm released the base of the cock, but for some reason, the sensation of tightness didn’t go away. His new cock will be stuck into a semi hard forever now and the faintest sensation will be enough for him to cum. The green liquid modified his nuts to not handle the stamina anymore. His new perfectly dimensioned cock will be a premature one.

It was an intoxicating mix of sensations, each body experiencing its own unique version of pleasure and frustration as the transformation continued. All at once the arms started to glow around the newly modified parts. There, in one smooth movement, they started to hum and Ethan could see from his 3 pair of eyes as data streams was injected into him. IT started to feel hot for Ethan as the warmth got higher and higher. Out of nowhere, Ethan could feel tingle started to appear in mass round the base of his dicks. Hair was sprouting in mass and soon, the three of them were hairy. His body on the right now had curly dirty blonde unruly hair as his smaller body of the three now had dark brown hair with faint waves in them. The last one was probably the biggest changes in this part. Ethan felt like hair were pushing under his skin and balls and the white palish skin started to take a grey hue. When the humming stopped, this new cock was very hairy but all the hair were cut on a weekly basis, which resulted in them growing thick but not too long, which were making his super sensitive premature 8 inches cock into overdrive even more. The sensation of the hair growing and the tightness of his permanent semi erected cock was pushing this body in overdrive for release.

“Facial restructuring in progress.”

Ethan’s facial features twisted and contorted, bones shifting beneath the skin. He could feel his jawlines sharpening, his features hardening, becoming more rugged and masculine. He tried to scream, but his mouth moved of its own accord, forming expressions he couldn’t control. The changes were happening too quickly, and his mind was a chaotic mess, struggling to keep up with the nightmare unfolding within him.

“Finalizing transformations. Clothing materialization in progress.”

The robotic arms moved with precise efficiency as they completed their work. Ethan felt the sensation of fabric materializing around his newly transformed bodies. Soft, comfortable pajama pants wrapped around his biggest body and compressed his thick 10 inches cock that let little place to imagination, tight shorts hugged his smaller body with his small thick beer can cock and a black shirt appeared around his smaller frame, while loose, dark stripped shorts formed around his premature body which only let his sensitive cock head rub against the smooth material. The clothing clung to his new physiques, accentuating the muscular forms that had been forced upon him.

Ethan’s mind was a maelstrom of confusion and fear. He couldn’t fully grasp what had happened to him—he was no longer a single entity, but three distinct beings, each with its own body and identities. He could feel their thoughts, desires, and instincts battling within him, drowning out the remnants of his original self. He didn’t know understand what happening or happened to him as all he could feel was three sensations and see three bodies from three pair of eyes.

But the transformation wasn’t over yet. The mechanical voice spoke once more.

“Transformation complete. Initiating behavioral loop.”

Arms appeared in front of his eyes and all of a sudden, they attached themselves around his head. Ethan could see three videos played in front of his eyes as the mental assimilation and behavioral instincts were uploaded inside his brains. He could feel how his stronger body started to act manly and dominant on his own while his smaller body started to feel less and less in control of the situation and in the meantime his third body started to feel in love with his smaller body. The sensations were weird, he couldn’t understand what was happening anymore and as the video ended and the casks were plugged off, he could still see his three bodies and the sensation but he couldn’t move anymore. It was like his bodies were moving on their own and he was a passenger of the three of them. Feeling and seeing everything on each but not able to have his hands and the commands anymore.

Ethan’s bodies began to move on their own. The mechanical arms guided him at first, but soon, they let go, and his actions became automatic, repeating in an endless loop. He could feel his hands lifting, removing the clothes, touching the others, feeling their skin, their hair, their muscles. The sensations were overwhelming—the musk, the heat, the texture of their skin, the tightness in their groins. The rubbing of their dicks against the tissue material. The will to cum and release that never came sending him into a loop of perpetual denial with every second.

Every breath, every movement felt hyper-real, but it wasn’t him controlling it. He was merely a passenger, trapped within his own bodies as they moved on their own accord. The sensations were a maddening blend of pleasure and frustration. He could feel everything—the brush of skin against skin, the tightening in his groin as his bodies moved, the heavy musk that filled the air, intoxicating and primal. His bodies were locked in an endless cycle, repeating the same actions over and over, their desires never fully satisfied, the pleasure never fully realized.

It was a cruel, unending tease, an erotic torture that kept him on the edge without any release. The mechanical assistant had designed the loop perfectly, each cycle drawing him deeper into the sensations, heightening his awareness of every touch, every movement. His muscles flexed and tensed, his breaths quickened, but there was no escape from the loop, no way to break free from the repetition.

His three bodies were now inextricably linked, their sensations intertwined. When one of his forms felt the rough fabric of his clothes against his sensitive skin, the other two felt it as well. When one of them experienced a pulse of pleasure in the groin, it resonated through all three, amplifying the sensation. It was like his consciousness was being pulled in three different directions at once, each body experiencing its own version of ecstasy and frustration.

His mind struggled to keep up, his thoughts fragmented and scattered. He could barely form coherent thoughts anymore—only raw, primal instincts remained. The loop was becoming his reality, the repetition drilling into his psyche, eroding what little control he had left.

“User integration complete,” the mechanical voice stated, its cold tone a stark contrast to the chaos in Ethan’s mind. “Transformation protocol successful. Subject is now fully operational to experience the future.”

Ethan’s bodies continued to move, each trapped in its own loop. The taller form removing the shirt of the smaller one, the fabric of his red tartan pajama pants stretching over his muscular thighs. The shorter, leaner body putting his arms ups so the shirt could be removed then caressing the pecs in front of him, feeling the short too small khaki shorts on his compact thighs. The third body, the most balanced of the three, trying to kiss the smaller one that he fell in love with but never reaching the lips that he is craving for while caressing his waist and holding his neck in his calloused strong hands and feeling his over sensitive cock rubbing on the fabric of his shorts and being on the edge of cumming.

They moved together, yet separately, each body following its own path within the confines of the loop. The sensation of control slipping away was almost too much to bear. Ethan wanted to scream, to break free, but his voice was silent, his actions dictated by the mechanical program that had overtaken him.

Time lost all meaning as the loop continued, every sensation heightened, every moment stretched out into eternity. The pleasure was intoxicating, but it was also a prison, locking him in a cycle of need and desire that would never be fulfilled.

Just when it seemed like the loop would go on forever, something changed. The mechanical assistant’s voice broke through the haze.

“Warning: Device battery low. System shutdown imminent.”

Panic surged through Ethan. He could feel the drain in his bodies, the energy waning as the phone’s battery died. The loop continued, but it was slower now, the movements more lethargic. The pleasure was still there, but it was fading, replaced by a growing sense of emptiness. His consciousness flickered, like a signal struggling to stay connected.

“Five percent battery remaining,” the assistant announced, its voice devoid of any emotion.

Ethan’s thoughts raced. What would happen if the phone died? Would he disappear along with it? Would he be trapped in darkness, lost in this digital nightmare forever?

The loop slowed even further, his bodies barely moving now, the sensations dulling as the energy drained away. His vision started to blur, the edges of his consciousness fraying. He wanted to fight it, to break free, but he was powerless against the inevitable shutdown.

“Two percent battery remaining,” the assistant stated calmly.

The loop was almost non-existent now, his bodies barely able to move. The once overwhelming sensations were now just a faint echo, a ghost of what they had been. Ethan felt like he was slipping away, his consciousness dissolving into the void.

“One percent battery remaining. System shutdown imminent.”

Ethan’s last thoughts were of fear and desperation. He didn’t want to disappear, didn’t want to be lost in the darkness. But there was nothing he could do, no way to stop the inevitable.

The screen flickered one last time, and then everything went black.

A Week Later...

The small apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the street lamps outside. The burglar had made quick work of the place, rummaging through drawers and cabinets for anything of value. He was about to leave when his eyes fell on a phone lying on the bed.

He picked it up, surprised it had been left behind. It was an older model, but it looked well-kept. Figuring it might be worth something, he pocketed it and left the apartment, heading back to his own place.

Once inside his dingy one-bedroom apartment, the burglar plugged the phone into a charger, eager to see what he had scored. The screen lit up, and to his surprise, it didn’t require a password. Instead, it opened directly to a strange app, displaying a video of three muscular men on grabbing and caressing each other’s on a bed in a messy bedroom, their bodies moving in a repetitive sequence. The burglar frowned; his curiosity piqued by the oddity of it all. He watched as the men on the screen undressed and redressed, their bodies flexing, their faces locked in expressions of deep concentration and tension. The movements seemed almost lifelike, too real for just an animation. Ethan felt like a jolt parkouring his body and soul as the phone was plugged and the energy was once again running in him. His bodies started their automated movements once again. The rubbing, caressing, undressing, will to cum but never reaching it, the premature orgasm coming in his pants, the will to kiss. Everything came back at full speed and he was once again trapped in perpetual denial and frustration. But it lighted a spark of hope in him. Somebody had found him.

“How long have I been stuck?” he asked himself as he felt another kiss being refused to his lips. Like if he had a calendar in his mind, Ethan heard the answer in his mind from the robotic voice. But it wasn’t the same one, no it was… his voice. Ethan was terrified. Does that mean he was assimilated?

“Yes user” he heard once again in his robotic voice “Accepting the offer have assimilated you on the platform to experience what the original user where doing. Don’t worry, as long as you are not scrolled away, you won’t have any problem. If you happen to be scrolled, then your data will be assimilated to the server and saved up so you are not deleted until you are claimed back. Until so, enjoy the future…”

“No, wait, I didn’t agree to this!” Unfortunately for Ethan, the burglar didn’t hear any of that, and as he was looking at this weird video of three dude caressing each other’s on loop, he put his finger on the screen and started to swipe it up. Ethan felt his world shake. Everything connected and he understood, he was about to be scrolled. “No, don’t scro…” Ethen didn’t have time to finish his beg as the video was sent away into the eternal void of data until someone claimed him back.

As the burglar’s eyes remained glued to the screen, the phone emitted a soft, pulsing glow, almost as if it was drawing him in. He felt an odd compulsion to keep watching, mesmerized by the rhythm of the dances, the pranks and the POV videos. He scrolled to another video, and then another, and another, diving more and more into the feed of the previous owner.

He was about to swipe out of the app when the screen flickered, displaying a pop-up message:

“Experience the Future! Try the Brand-New Update—Click Here!”

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Hey everyone, here is the first story I publish on this account. Hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as Ethan enjoy his new reality.

Let me know what you think of it and if you want to see more of this. If you have any ideas or just want to talk, feel free to send me a message, I don't bite ^^'

There is more stories to come!

You'd found the tracksuit while looking on Vinted for new clothes, and had to have them. They were cheap too, so it just made sense to you to buy them, and the horny feeling you got just looking at the picture of them was enough to convince you.

A few days later and they arrived, and you were more than eager to try them on. As you slipped them on, you could feel your cock hardening, stiffening in the trackie pants that youd decided to go commando in. You gave your cock a quick tug, then slipped the hoodie on, caving into the urge to wear it without a shirt. The clothes smelled of sweat and cheap lynx deoderant, which youd noticed when opening them, but the scent was stronger now you wore them, invading your nostrils and overpowering all other smells in your room.

It was driving you insane, making your brain fog and lose focus, you smelled like a lad, a chav, and it was great. What you didn't realise, lost in pleasure, eyes closed and hands feeling up your body, was that you were growing. Your muscles becoming more lean, your height increases to a solid 6 feet, and a beard growing in on your face. Your bones were becoming more angular, cutting a hard jawline, and making you have a more tough, chavvy look. A tattoo was forming on the back of your right hand, and your hair was shortening into a cut more befitting of you new form. As you fondled your cock it grew, resting at a solid 7 inches with the foreskin back, uncut. Your balls felt full and heavy, and you could smell the combination of the musk, deoderant, and smell of smoke that now came from your body as well as the clothes. It was overwhelming you, making you blank and docile as it reworked your mind. New thoughts were seeping in, dumber, hornier thoughts, of how hot you were and how much you needed a cig.

Memories were seeping in too, of playing footie with your mates, or running an only fans, findomming pathetic subs and working out every so often to stay in shape. You were jerking off, waves of pleasure coursing through your being, and those waves carried new language, vocabulary, and a new name. Aaron. That's right, you were Aaron. A propa lad through and through.

Aaron came, soaking his, no your, trackies, and headed out to play footie with your mates, and get some booze on the way, probably nicking the beer like the badass you were.

Taboo

--- Originally posted on 2023-05-13 by shapedbydesire ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

The gay to straight stuff is so taboo, but I'm loving that as well. That fantasy concept of being 'corrected'. Or more so, becoming the absolute opposite of yourself. That new version of you never allowing you out to 'ruin' your life again with your 'bad choices'.

You put it perfectly! And I’m glad you’re enjoying those stories — my favorite thing to do within my TF fiction is to have the main character struggle with their changes; I love when the person is disgusted and frightened by who they become, even if all the things they receive are technically what they were wishing for.

Here’s another treat:

Trent was trying on the compression shorts he received in the mail when he felt the influence invading his mind.

The twink was happy to see how they hugged his curves, at first annoyed by his father’s boring birthday gift but starting to see the appeal, slim waist sucked in as his perky bubble butt is pushed out. Right before he can snap a picture for his dating profile, however, he feels himself turning in place, directing his ass away from the mirror and now facing it front-on. His gaze lowers to his bulge, looking larger in the shorts. Normally the gold star bottom could care less about his dick, but something about watching it chub up was making him excited. Proud.

He lowered his hand, running his fingers over the fabric encasing his cock. Closing his eyes, releasing a sigh of pleasure, he waits to see a massive burly man appearing in his lustful daydream — but he’s shocked to see that his mind has dreamed up a vision of two large, silicone filled breasts bouncing up and down, blonde hair falling over them, no face in the video. “Fuckkk, Brah. I need to motorboat those titties.”

The dim, bovine voice speaking inside his mind does not belong to him. He opens his eyes in shock, taken aback by the comment he would have never thought of if he had control, glancing down to see his dick has begun to snake down his shorts leg, throbbing at full mast. His chest felt tight in his white shirt, his mouth open as he breathes deep and long, he tries to close his eyes again to cemetery himself, heat washing through his body — but anytime he goes to the darkness, all he can see are boobs bouncing, fingers slipping in and out of wet slits, blonde women kissing. All of his fantasies suddenly belong to a straight man! He rips off his shirt, sweat beading on his forehead, a waft of musk coming from his damp, dark armpits.

Trent was now unable to control himself, his cock engorging to the extreme inside his tight compression shorts, his swelling bicep flexing as he lifts an arm against his will to snap a selfie of his changing reflection.

Ever since putting on the shorts, a belated birthday gift from his estranged father, the former twink had felt increasingly strange. The muscles beneath his skin swelled up like water balloons, firm to the touch. He was supposed to be working from home that day, but he found himself unable to focus, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband and placing his fingertips against the sweaty, hard sausage in his shorts. His voice sounds low as he grunted, running his fingers up and down his fattening bulge, unable to process the changes happening to his body, the itch along his jaw as it widens and becomes firmer.

He hears a ping on his phone, looking down to see a text from his father sending him a GIF. He opens it and is shocked to see a video image of a woman with large breasts fondling herself, sticking her tongue out as if hungering for a cock down her throat. Even if he closes his eyes to look away, all he can see is this bimbo burned into his mind, turning the invader inside of his body on more and more. “Son, what do you think of this hot piece of ass?”

He was unable to control himself, feeling the fabric tighten around his cock, a rush of testosterone through his system. He grunted and moaned and whimpered, staring down in shock as the fabric began to work his cock alongside his trembling fingers, milking out his seed, all the while fat tits and wet pussies jiggle & drip in his mind.

By the time he splooged in his new shorts, Trey had traded places with the twink, now in the driver’s seat and happy to let the little queer scream and whine inside a straight man’s brain, forever bombarded by horny women — he sent his father back a simple “fuckkk dad! I hope there’s some sluts like that at the club tonight. The goal is for us to bring home twins lol”

He then snapped a selfie of his final form, smugly satisfied with hot straight self. His dad is certainly proud of him! Now, at least. Trent bangs at the walls of his mental prison, not at all wanting this life that has been thrust upon him. Hanging out with his father?! Disrespecting women?! God, his new self isn’t even cleaning up his mess, leaving the cum to dry inside his shorts and add to his man musk. “Bro, stop being a little bitch,” Trey’s eyes are gazing at his reflection now, his smirk cocky, looking deep as if at the twink trapped inside him. “Stop crying and try sucking on some of those fat tits I’m dreaming up for you. Dad and I are gonna go hunting for the real thing.”

Happy birthday to him, huh?