sanzaibian

[sanzaibian]

Which writers do you recommend ? What stories did you like?

I follow quite a bit of creators, so it would be quite overwhelming to include all of them ! So I'll only include those I especially like and have things to say about.

I'll of course shoutout @joshslater, he's honestly a bit of an idol to me, since his stories are always so imaginative - and well-written ! In that category I also add @salmonskinrolltf of which I especially like the multi-parters, and how he explores a gimmick very thoroughly, @maletfsstories who always write great stories that hook me up even on kinks I don't have, and @rozza22365 who basically was the one to introduce me to the guilty pleasure of gay to straight by his thrilling prose !

I'll also shoutout the very prolific @papermoon357 (because, let's be honest, who wouldn't !), whose skill really shines in the stories he posts between captions, @fredwkong and @octuscle who both have a similar style of reader-driven posting that brings a ton of varied content, with each their own spin (thinking about it, it might very well be in the continuation of the style of feu collegenerdtojock, whose tumblr has been taken over by pastry for some reason), as well as @coyotes-rules-of-change who always nails down perfectly what I find hot in tf !

And for newer writers, I'll shoutout @occamstfs who does an extremely good job, @tidetfs who seems to have pretty similar interests as me, and @alphajocklover who kinda does have that old tumblr tf community vibe to his stories !

Finally, a few mentions that I don't know how to group, I shoutout @dreamingtf and his stories that very often make me feel good, @idesofrevolution who has a nack of writing immersive stories, and @nonotnolan who writes some really sweet love stories ^^ (and I'll add an honorable mention to Programming Prince, who was banned multiple times from Tumblr, and since quit writing stories, but was very impactful in my introduction to the community ^^)

As for stories, well, you make me dig deeper, the list has already been so long to write ! But here are some of my all-time favorites, of which I link through my likes/main blog (so that if the link perishes, it perishes with that account ^^') :

@fullfriendnerdpurse's trio of alpha car, forced imposter and how to make a douchebag (not the actual title), all are great concepts of which I love to throw myself inside, and I think could all make a thrilling longer story, @rozza22365's Brotherly Changes, that one story that convinced me to follow him, @alphajocklover's Unmoved, which resonates with my personnal experiences a lot, feu tyranitartf's I'm a dumb jock, very hypnotic and thrilling, @anomanlyarchives' text message swap (not the actual title), of which I love the love story, I-don't-remember-whom's Chess Rival, republished by @marcoh1234, a good all classic that just doesn't get old, @erogenousmind's Turing, one of those stories that just scratches my existential horror erotica itch, @0ng0ingw0rk's To Love and to Cherish..., a great love story, @joshslater's Wet Dreams, the story I blame for my diaper fetish, Happy Endings' The Mind Palace (gayspiralstories), honestly my favorite story of all times, I love the concept, love the execution, the sweetness and the corruption. I do an RP on it (or at least did until I took a break), and I think that's the one concept I won't be bored of ^^'

There's a buch of other stories I love and would love to show off better, but that list is already long enough, so I focused on the most impactful stories ^^'

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

Ever thought about kinkier stories? (Feet, farts etc)

Thanks 🫶

Eh, not really. I don't really have any kink that aren't linked in one way or another to transformation, at least to my current knowledge.

Be it hypnosis, hairstyle or forced clothing (including diapers for some reason, as well as dress shirts, the bane of my existence), it can all be described as some variation on the core fantasy of transformation. Though, the hair fetish (as in head hair) does kinda go outside of the tf sphere, however I do see that it is not well-appreciated here (from what I've observed, in gay spheres it really only manifests as shaving kink, which is just not what I like).

However, since I write what I want and feel like writing, some kinks may just spontaniously appear, who knows.

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

Your favorite transformation details ? (Like musk etc)

Hairstyle.

I guess it's kind of a me kink, but there is something so hot about hair, and having the hairstyle be changed into the kind of trendy and hot - and a bit ridiculous sometimes, we can agree - is just peak hotness.

For something that is seen more often, I would say mental corruption. I love it when the main character's inner thoughts get chipped at little by little until they become unrecognizable.

Goes to the whole Theseus' ship philosophical conundrum, and really creates a ton of existencial angst that is so hot ^^

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

Least favorite popular things often included in TF stories that you dislike?

I'm not quite sure of what to answer, because stories are quite varied, but I will answer two things.

First is swapping. It's a bit of a hot take, and I admit it's the form that my first few tf fantasies took form, but I've grown tired of it. To me, there just isn't enough spice to it. Plus I tend to overthink things, and swapping leads the door open to a whole lot of secondary questions that have become boring to me ^^'

Second is harder to pinpoint, and quite a ways less common I would say, but basically it's got to do with racial tfs. I dislike how little thought is often given to the target ethnicity, and how it can often devolve in stereotyping (especially in the case of black and arab people. How many times must I rage behind my monitor that turks are not arabs, and how many times must I despair when an arab tf invariably ends up with a very hairy guy...). But often times I do not see ill-intent, only people not interested in the specifics, and I'd like for people to be at least a bit more curious about the vast diversity in peoples that humanity encompasses ^^'

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

A transformation story must have…(?)

Suffering.

At least some kind of suffering, of the main character not agreeing to the transformation.

I may or may not be a masochist, however, from a story standpoint, it serves as a great way of generating conflict and therefore interest inside the story. So it kinda serves double duty in my opinion.

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

What stories are your favorite to write?

Influencer/Fuckboy/Jock tf, if you know what I write most about, you know the type I'm referring to.

It's just basically my one main fantasy, so of course I have an easy time writing those ! However I do find other stories that go out of that one fantasy more fulfilling, even if they're harder to figure out ^^'

#ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

Thank you very much for 400 subscribers ! That number keeps on climbing, it's scary !

I'm still on break, and am likely going to stay on break for at least two additional weeks (time for the semester to end), but I think I can do a bit of a Q&A to mark the occasion !

So, don't hesitate to send me your (non-story) questions through the ask feature !

I may refuse to answer some questions at my own disgretion (in which case I will delete them from my inbox). Additionaly, any story prompt/request will wait for me to be out of break.

So yeah, thank you again, and ask away !

#blog information #ask #q&a

[sanzaibian]

I’ll be honest… this is not what I expected. I even went back to my Tumblr account and saw that my last like actually had a ton of different people on it, yetthis is what happenedwhen I saw this damned post…

Let me just start explaining what happened, okay ? See, I’m quite busy now, with the end of the second semester, the Master thesis to write and all the other work I need to do and file, so I don’t have much time to write, plus I was quite sick at about the time I wanted to write a special Eid story… that won’t happen, I guess ‒ though do check out @occamstfs ' excellent work on that theme. But yeah, let me not be distracted. Because I was sick, I wasn’t in the mood, but I started checking it back out for a few days, and then the post happened.

At the very moment I saw it, I was suddenly taken with convulsions.

I took my headphones off, unwrapped myself from the cloth I call clothes, and prepared to go to the toilets. It might be vomit, for all I know… and I’ve seen way too much of it in recent days…

But I didn’t have the time to even get up that I felt my abdominals harden, convulsing.

I watched flabbergasted as from my small fat abs sculpted themselves. All of that which I wrote about was actually… becoming reality ? I somehow felt both excitement and dread… especially dread, actually. I don’t actually want to be someone new altogether, just how would I be able to continue to live !

As I was doom-thinking, that hardening, which somehow was accompanied to a darkening of the skin, spread. I saw my hips harden, and I shifted my ass as its globes were becoming more muscular. I also watched as – and I still don’t know how to feel about it – my dick grew bigger, and not (only) because it was hardening ! Up the torso, I saw as my pecs were bulging out, setting themselves apart from the rest of my body, nipples perking out. When I saw them inflating, I couldn’t help myself being fascinated – and missing altogether the quite frankly impressive enlarging of my legs and then feet – and taking my hands to feel them. Oh, so divine was that feeling… fuck, I can’t help myself from doing it right now, and it just doesn’t get old…

But that was not to last, as suddenly my unyielding back pain struck once again. So I just moved my neck right to left, and made rows with my shoulders, when suddenly CRACK ! my shoulders were farther apart.

My arms were next, growing bigger and bigger, especially my biceps which, frankly, became massive. And as the dark reached my hands, I saw my nail polish break down and dissolve into oblivion. Honestly, if not for the fact that my life has been turned upside down, that I’m unrecognizable to literally everybody and that this whole situation will be hell for getting some new official papers, the fact that I lost the nail polish that I just put on yesterday would be by far the most inconvenient thing that happened from this situation. I guess I’ll have to put it back on, but then… ugh…

Sorry, getting back to the point. By then, my cramps were finishing, and I started feeling my head burning up, at it was remolding, to what I imagined to be another shape. Sensing an opportunity – and knowing full well how once is supposed to act thanks to all the stories I read here – I quickly made my way to the bathroom, to see myself in the mirror.

And when I saw the mirror, I was just starting to feel like my hair was scratching. I took my hand up, starting to scratch it, only to find my hair straightening, blackening, and especially receding into my scalp. I was glad when it stopped at only short hair, but the worst was to come.

I felt my jaw needing a scratch.

Even though I knew what was coming, I couldn’t help myself. I scratched as I say black hair growing, growing and growing. By that time, I was crying, as I saw what was, as a non-binary guy hating on his hair, my worst nightmare happening. The mustache part was the first to finish growing, already a respectable length that would be considered quite scruffy in today’s society, yet the rest of the beard continued growing.

And it grew, and it grew, meandering between my fingers.

I also looked down at my body hair, knowing them two to be always related. However, I only found it to be shrinking in covering, thinning in some sense. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m still quite hairy, yet… less than before, when looking below my beard, somehow ? I guess even heaven-mandated hairy transformations think I’m too hairy…

And then, to top it all off, I saw a weird green, red and black goo snooping out of my pores, and then hardening into clothes. I was now wearing black sweat pants, as well as a green and red Moroccan Royal Federation of Football sweatshirt, as well as new boxers, new socks, and new trainers.

Great. Now, I not only look like the epitome of masculinity, something I do not want, but the only clothes that suit me are football clothes, a sport I absolutely do not care one bit about.

I’m so… confused by all that. Returning to my computer and seeing the post that made all of that happen, I just can’t help to feel like it… shouldn’t have happened. Yet it did. All because of that one damn post on Tumblr.

But I guess you all are happy, happy that I’m now a Moroccan jock that is all hyper-masculine, wearing a Salafi-approved beard, and that I decided to share the story.

But you don’t care that I’m now going to have to prove my existence to my family and to the state, that going out on the streets will prove fundamentally different in a way I’m not prepared for, and that now my dysphoria is going to go through the roof. Look ! Here is my cutest I can manage !

Well, now that I’ve said everything… let’s send that SMS to try and somehow let my family know that I’m me. Be happy that I am the one going through that, and not you. It’s all sorts of wrong to actually be in in another person’s body, no matter how hot it seems in written prose.

Though… I’ll admit that beard is growing on me… I might keep it for a while. I don’t know, something feels… weird about it, and I don’t quite know why…

Your last like is your new body. Who's winning?

Dumb muscle himbo for me it seems!

#male tf #male transformation #nerd to jock #jock tf #masculinization #hair growth #beard growth #hairy tf #racial tf #arab tf #moroccan tf #transformation #tf story #collab tf #blog information #yes there was intel on why I disappeared in it #if you didn't notice it reread it #and I did reblog with the wrong account

[sanzaibian]

Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

#male transformation #male tf #jock tf #himbo tf #twink tf #racial tf #race change #latino tf #black tf #asian tf #straight to gay #gay to straight #inanimate tf #dumber tf #mental change #transformation #tf story #april fool's tf

[sanzaibian]

Please, tell me I’m not the only one to have seen this. Tell me I’m not crazy.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve noticed something weird happening in the neighborhood. There seemed to be an influx of young influencer-type guys, all with some cringy “brush” hairstyle. At first, I thought nothing of it, except that perhaps my neighborhood was becoming hip – and likely more expensive – but my whole outlook changed when I seemed to recognize one of those “new” guys. Indeed, one day one of them made me think of an elderly guy that lives a few houses away from mine, and ever since I noticed that, I see more and more similarities between those guys and people from the neighborhood. And that elderly guy, you know ? I haven’t seen him since ! But really, the reality of the situation crushed me today when I went to the grocery store, and saw that guy.

That guy looked exactly like a young beardless version of Mr. Shree, our older local grocer, and with that same haircut I just see everywhere I go around my place. When I talked to him, he had the same accent he had, except he had a bit of a dumber, more bro-like tone. Worse, he even flirted with me ! Just what is going on !

God, I really need to move out. That neighborhood now creeps me out… Even now when I go back home, I feel like I’m being watched everywhere… Look ! That guy !

I’ve seen him everywhere today, and every time he’s glaring at me… And now he’s right on my path to my house. I… decide to go on the other side of the road. Everything creeps me out, I don’t want to risk anything.

I get back home, and breathe a sigh of relief. At least, here, I won’t be in danger from… whatever is happening. I settle in, turn the coffee maker on – I’ll need that for the night of thesis-writing – and take my laptop out. I look online at house listings. We’re right inside the university year, so of course there isn’t much reasonably close to college… and whatever there is is either at an outrageous price, or is unlivable… I’m going to have to make do, there is no way I’m staying in this creepy neighborhood any longer.

As I’m looking through the listings, I get a notification. An e-mail. I look at it and… Oh, yes, I’m supposed to get a package today. They apparently put it in my mailbox… great, I’ll need to go out again, if I don’t take it I’ll have a hard time writing tonight…

Reluctantly, I dare myself out of home, not without looking in all directions before stepping out. Seeing no one, I hurry to the mailbox, keys in hand. I unlock the mailbox, finding my package, and turn around when I see that guy yet again.

“Olá ! How are you doing, bruh ?”

Oh no. He hailed me. That guy hailed me. I’m done for. But… my house is just near… I can make a run for it !

I suddenly go for a sprint, trying to whiz besides him.

“Oi ! What the fuck are you doing, bruh !” He shouts, running after me.

Fuck, he’s following me.

I reach the door. Finally.

I get in the house, and close the door violently.

Yes ! I’m free from him ! At least, for now… I lock the door. I can wait the whole night without problem… though I’ll absolutely call the police when I can catch my breath. I check three times that my door is well-locked, and start turning when a low and dumb-sounding voice rumbles.

“Bro, that’s not nice, bruh. You should act better with a bro, brah !”

“How did you do that !” I shout, in more than utter shock.

He shouldn’t have been able to enter ! I… made sure that I closed the door as soon as I was in the house ! And he was behind me ! Granted at the end I was looking at my feet…

… He overtook me right at the end ? I… guess I’m very out of shape, but still, I thought, that…

“I dunno, bro, I ran. But guess what ? You-”

Before he can continue, I try tackling him. I know I’m not strong, I know I’m not athletic, but I must try what I can… to stay myself. To stay alive.

When I make contact, it’s as if I’m encountering a brick wall with a bit of a cushion on the side of it. No matter the momentum, nor my desperate steps trying to push him, he doesn’t budge a bit. Although it didn’t hurt, this attempt will be remembered as one of the most pathetic acts I took in my whole existence.

“Look at you, bruh, you’re so excited you went right into the arms of papai !” The low dumb-sounding voice exclaims, before laughing.

I unclasp him. I can’t overpower him. Better to go outside and find help… somewhere. Plus the key is still in the lock.

But I don’t even have the time to turn that he is the one to clasp me, now. With both arms I am taken hostage. I look up at that dumb grin on a handsome face ruined by a terrible hairstyle.

Disgusting.

“So, bruh, wanna leave ? But I haven’t even told you the good news, brah ! - Are you going to infect me ? Like Mr. Shree ?” I spit, showing all the hate I can possibly fill my diction with. - Huhuhu so funny, bro ! No, I’m not infecting you ! I’m curing you, bruh !”

I look in horror as he licks his lips.

“C-Curing me of what ? - I dunno.” He answers me, looking empty inside for a second before taking back his mischievous look on. “Man, I can just smell you need curing, it’s urgent.”

Then, without warning, he locks my hips with his legs, and takes my head in his hands. I try to free myself, but it’s of no avail.

He makes my head look up, as he approaches his to mine.

And then, his lips smash mine.

No, he actually kisses me. Not only making them touch. He then removes himself from my face, as I stay unable to move in any way. My first kiss was actually… stolen by a weird sick guy ?

“Now, bro, let’s cure you !”

His rumbling shake me as he puts his right hand inside my hair. I just can’t move as he pulls my hair higher and higher. As he does that, it also seems to… stay up, somehow. And I absolutely can’t move any muscle, weirdly, even as he shifts his position to free me from the grasp of his legs. No matter how much I try, nothing in my body wants to move, and I’m just stuck there, staring at him in much the same way as he used to stare at me, as he takes out clippers.

Then, the sound of buzzing. He continues grasping my hair, pulling on it and seemingly shaping it with his right hand, while his left hand expertly directs the clippers on the side of my head. I sense the mass of hair falling down, my mind going down with it. I feel more and more dizzy, as he continues pulling on my hair in an experience that becomes strangely more and more euphoric, and as tufts of it fall down. Like… what is happening ? What is he doing ? What am I doing ? The questions that were already there before become even more pronounced.

The buzzing comes finally to my other ear, and I feel the wind breezing through my skin on the back and front of my head, as a big mass holds on top of my head. Squeezing it. Squeezing my brains. Squeezing my mind.

I feel that guy undressing me, touching me on all sides, but as I am squeezed, I just feel that my mind is… leaking somehow. Like… I dunno, stuff like my thesis… big writing thing, its contents or, like… smart stuff, I guess ? It feels like it leaks through all over my body, and as that guy takes a hold of my pecs, he uses the leaks to make them… stronger or something ? Ugh, I feel so squeezed down, I can’t think clearly. I even think like I’m bigger, stronger and taller, how ridiculous !

Like, I guess I have abs, pecs, biceps, triceps, calves, a butt and all that, but all that feels… big. And bigger as it leaks. Yeah… bigger… bigger… BIGGER !

Suddenly, that guy comes back in front of me, and his big hand comes closer and closer. I feel him fiddling with my lips, which feel bigger than usual… god, have I got botox or something ? And then, he squeezes my face for a while, until we can hear cracking sounds. He smirks.

“Bro, you’re looking good, like ! - Huh ? What ?” I manage.

Looking at me in disarray, only barely managing to move my fat lips, he smiles harder. The voice that left my lips was weird, like… it was deep. Too deep. It also feels like I’ve got like… an apple ? in my throat ? that makes me unable to speak correctly.

“Repeat after me. ‘Bro.’ - Bro.” I repeat in my low and slow voice, unable to think under all this weight. - ‘Bro.’

- Bro. - ‘Bruh.’” He changes. - Bruh.” I follow. - ‘Bruh.’ - Bruh. - ‘Brah.’” He changes again. - Brah.” I follow again, still unable to think properly.

We continue like that for a good long while. Like, bruh, we continue doing that, and brah it feels like my brains become more mushy, bro, more squeezed, bro. We then make brah combinations, like bruh, and it feels like other words are burned, brah. Only bro, bruh and brah remain, bruh, and, like bro, even now when we’re finished, my brain still feels weird, bro.

I just stand there, bruh, thinking, though, bro, it’s hard with all that weight squeezing me, brah.

“Ya good, bro ?” That guy asks me. - Yeah, bruh.” I answer him, smirking in the best way I can. - Great ! And what d’ya wanna do, brah ?”

As he asks that, I just pause. Like, bro, it’s so hard to think ! I dunno what I’d wanna do ! I’m like, too dizzy bruh !

“I dunno, bro.” I answer him. - You’re so dumb, bruh ! You should, like, wanna put stuff on the ‘gram or Tiktok, bro ! Or get laid, or cure people so there’s more bros, bruh !”

His words hit me like a truck. Of course I want to go get laid, bro ! And of course I wanna put stuff on the socials ! That’s the way of the bro, and I should try curing people, brah !

“Então, you better, bruh ?” That guy asks me. - Yeah bro ! D’ya wanna have sex, bruh ?” I answer, sure of myself. - Huhuhuhu ! Later, now I’ve got something important to do, bro.”

As he says that, he shows me a metal chain.

“It’s your chain, bruh ! It’s a sign you’re a real bro, brah ! Put it on, and be proud of it, bro !”

He approaches it to me, and locks it when it circles my neck. As it clicks, something clicks in me at the same time. Like I’ve found my peace, bro. My hair doesn’t squeeze me anymore, it feels just right, brah. Everything seems… just right, bruh. And I feel like… other people should feel that too, bro. Yeah, let’s cure them ! I want everyone to feel just right, brah !

“So, bruh, wanna see your hotness in the mirror ?” He points to a mirror in the entrance.

When I look at myself, at my big hair, and at my chain, I can’t help but take it in my mouth. That’s hotter, bruh.

“Fuck, I’m so hot, bro !” I say, not noticing that I said it out loud. - So hot, bruh, vamos !”

I smirk, letting my chain go. Yup, nobody can resist me, bro. Nobody can resist my way of life, bruh. Nobody can resist my hotness, brah. And I’m gonna make sure everyone’s in my league.

I take some hot clothes, and leave my house with that guy. Fuck, there’s so many dweebs in the street, it’s an infestation, bro ! There’s so many people that need curing, a good haircut and a good workout, brah !

Thankfully, I’m here to help, so that in the end, there will be nothing wrong with this neighborhood, bro.

#male transformation #male tf #nerd to jock #nerd to himbo #nerd to douche #nerd to fuckboi #jock tf #himbo tf #douche tf #fuckboi tf #muscle growth #hairstyle tf #dumber tf #mental change #infection tf #transformation #tf story

[sanzaibian]

Hello, thank you very much for the 200 followers (and the 93 additionnal ones who came in since then) ! This is the special follow-up that you chose three days ago !

This story is a continuation of Consultation at Dr. Davod's, so I highly reccomend you check this one out beforehand.

Enjoy !

================================================

I tap my foot on the floor, quite impatient as the clock turns. That waiting room creeps me out a bit, with its clock ticking at each second, though this feeling may be due to anticipation. I don’t quite know that Dr. Davod fellow, but I’m sure he’s quite fear-worthy.

Suddenly, the door opens. Behind it stands a tall man with quite the long beard. He’s quite impressive, especially as he somehow is shirtless… What is this kind of welcome from a doctor !? He calls my name, I enter his office, and sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk, as per his instructions.

“So, Mr. Gola… I’m sorry, but I didn’t receive the form you have to fill before consultation. I’m sure it’s a mistake, I know that for first-time clients like you, this way of operation can be… a bit foreign.” Dr. Davod starts with a soft voice. - That’s not a mistake. I came here because of my roommate.”

I look at him intently. Yes, you may not remember it, but you were different before. You weren’t a vain Instagram influencer wannabe, a few weeks ago.

“Your… roommate ?” He asks quizzically. “You’re going to have to be more precise than that, I’m afraid… - The thirteen of March. A smart balding guy. - Ah, I think I remember him… And… what do you have to say about a perfectly legal happening between a patient and their doctor ?” He tells me, with a bit of an air of superiority. It disgusts me. - You disfigured him ! You made him become an entirely different person ! The roommate I had doesn’t exist anymore, what you did is- - Perfectly in the realm of legality.” He interrupts me, still with this nagging air of superiority. “He agreed to my treatment, including all of its risks. - He couldn’t guess what you were going to do ! No reasonable person would take seriously your discharge, so it’s illegal !”

Dr. Davod smiles menacingly. I feel suddenly like I’m in danger. I twitch a bit on my seat, ready to act if anything bad happens.

“Well, you see, everybody’s happy with my services, and those who don’t want to take the risks don’t come. However, I do know someone who knew full well every single risks yet still came here…” He grins.

I immediately get what he means, and in what seemed like an eternity, I try to get up. However, Dr. Davod puts his hand below the desk, and presumably pushes a button as, suddenly, I feel a pull. I look down and see straps on my wrists, and other making their way over my torso, my neck and my legs. And before I can do anything, I am fully restrained.

I try to force myself out of the straps, but it’s to no avail. They are too strong, and I’m too weak to break them. After a while of struggling under the grin of Dr. Davod, I abandon the physical resistance.

“What have you done to me !” I shout. - Well, I have restrained you.” He answers, smiling. - Thank you. Now, can you answer my question ?” I groan. - Oh, you’re no fun… Well, see, I can’t really let you go, now… You may ask for an investigation, and it’s going to be tiring to get rid of. Plus, you do want to find your roommate again, no ?”

I don’t answer, only sighing audibly – as I can’t quite look away, my head is tied. Then I groan.

“You crook, your ways will be discovered. So just revert my roommate back to normal and I won’t say anything !”

It’s his time not to answer. He goes behind me, still smiling, and change the configuration of the chair I sit on, making it become a table. He then drags it to the center of the room, and make it stand higher.

“It seems there’s more dissidents than you’re willing to let me of, seeing as you’re so prepared…” I tell him, sarcastically. It’s the only weapon of resistance I have left. - I prefer to be prepared…” He trails off, as he leaves to go towards shelves.

I hear some rummaging behind me. When he comes back, he has a beige-looking tub and a bottle with a sprinkler on top of it. He puts them right inside my field of view.

“So, for you, I want to work on your physique. This cream here can help me mold you into what you need. - I don’t need anything ! Free me at once ! - And this bottle,” He continues, unfazed, “serves to exaggerate the secondary effects. I always like to have one on hand in case- - What ? Exaggerate the secondary effects ? Are you mad !?” I cut him, taken aback. - Well, see, most people come to me for physique reshaping, so it means that I’m quite skilled in it, while post-male-pattern baldness hair growth is complicated. There is even no… conventional cure for that, so of course there’s more secondary effects… Whence why I need some… help.”

He presses the sprinkler, making some of the bottle’s contents fly onto me. I don’t feel anything when it touches me, yet Dr. Davod smiles to me. He puts down the bottle and start putting some of the cream on his hands.

“Now we can start ! Say goodbye to your old life, Mr. Gola !”

Before I can say anything, he starts massaging my belly. He digs deeper and deeper, which makes me almost moan. It’s actually a very weird feeling…

“Now that you’re properly shut up, let’s start working… we’ll start here with your abs…”

I feel him parting my belly in two, and making trenches in it with his fingers. As he does this, I think back to when I took a reservation at Dr. Davod’s. I had found out by a mail from your bank where you last used your money. I remember scouring the internet to find out who was behind that company, and finding Mr. Davod’s clinic.

I decided to first read thoroughly his webpage, finding out his “hair revitalization services” and now understanding why you went there. After all, you love your hair, it’s so rich and fluffy, of course you would want to revitalize it… wait something feels off. Weren’t you bald or something ? ... It seems both wrong and right to imagine…

“Okay, they look good, now ! I think now I’ll… move up to your pecs, yes.”

I feel him holding my pectorals from below and pushing them up. He compresses them and they start feeling more voluminous… like they stay as big as they were when he lets them go down. I think back to when I understood your fate. After you refused outright to leave, stating in your dumb voice that you live here and that I should go fuck myself if I wanted to keep you from staying, I let you in. I didn’t want any unnecessary conflict, but at the very moment you close your room’s door, I immediately called your phone.

When I did, I heard it ring inside your room. Yeah, of course, you’re so forgetful that you would even forget your beloved from times to times – wait… But then, what shocked me was that you actually answered. And your dumb voice was on its other side. Asking me why I called you even though we were just talking a little while ago. It made me rethink your appearance and notice the similarities. You looked like a handsomer brother of yourself, somehow… though I still can’t quite remember why I thought it would be a good idea to call you…

“Great, nice and big, now. Just as I like them. Now… let’s work on the shoulders…”

He grabs a good hold of both of my shoulders, and suddenly, in a big cracking sound, he tares them apart, making them way wider. He then takes a hold of the sides of my neck and pulls them up, in quite a painful experience. As he does that, I think back to when you came back home. How you opened the door and entered our apartment. How, hearing the heavy step and then your slurry voice, I looked back and saw a stranger’s face. I immediately reached for a weapon, and not fining any, I confronted you directly.

I remember how I questioned you thoroughly, about where you went to and what you did – wait, did I already know who you were ? I was quite defensive and didn’t want you to come in, rather wanted you to go somewhere else… like to the gym or something. Was it because you were forgetting once again to go there to take care of your body ?Was it because you stank and I wanted you to go shower for once ? I don’t remember…

“Heh, you’re turning out quite good ! Now, your arms…”

Dr. Davod takes a hold of my biceps and rubs them between his hands, making them compress and tense. The more he does this, the more I feel like the mass he handles is bigger and bigger… As he does this, I think back to when you went out to see that doctor. At that time, you said that you had found somebody who would help you with your hair problem – though I always found that you exaggerated that ‘problem’ – so you were going to be out for the afternoon… If only I had known…

Know what, actually ? I’m kind of drawing a blank, here… I mean, I know you’re quite dumb and impressionable, so I guess I thought that you could easily have been scammed out of your money. I’ve got the sensation that… something was wrong about that trip, but I can’t quite remember… Ugh, my thoughts are a mess.

“Let’s continue down… I’m leaving the best for the last, I just want to do your legs and your pelvis…”

He starts down at my feet, pulling on their sides to make them wider, and then on their tip to make them longer – it’s quite ticklish, actually. Then he does the same thing he did with my arms, but this time with my legs, from bottom to top, twisting my muscles. When he finally ends up at my pelvis, he massages its sides, going to form a V shape at the bottom of my abs…

As he does that, I am reminded of when you and I met. We were looking for a place to live in, and applied to the same landlord who put us in contact. Our application was accepted, and we started living together. We actually got along quite good, making us fast friends...

Yes, living together, that was one of the most important part of our lives. We were already acquainted – wait, what ? ‒ and it was just the next step for our friendship – huh ? I remember your parents asking me to take good care of you, of being nagging where you are forgetful, of being defensive where you are impressionable… Yes, really, I don’t know what would have happened if you had moved out alone.

Suddenly, I feel a tension in my dick. Is he… pulling on it ? No, actually, as I think back about when I moved in with you… I guess, I-

“And now, the most important part ! Your face !”

He takes almost too enthusiastic a hold of my face, twisting it in all directions, pulling on my hair, and reaching to my mind.

As he does this, I am reminded of when I actually met you.

I remember being at school and being picked up when I was alone at the playground by an overly enthusiastic kid. That kid was you. You may have repeated some classes after that, but you were always there. I remember spending tons of time out of school playing, and later hanging out together with you. I remember my grades flunking due to all this time spend outside of school, but your presence was way better than anything school could teach me.

I remember, when I passed my final exams, kissing you – wait, I’m straight ! It was the first of many sexual experiences with you, making us friends with benefits. I remember ditching women, finding them boring – no, men are boring in that sense ! ‒ to be always there between all your flings.

I remember, when we found this condo, our celebratory sex. Of course I’m not straight. I’m only into you. And it doesn’t matter if I have to work out to pull in your attention, it doesn’t matter if I have to do an OnlyFans to rake in money, I doesn’t matter if I have to take care of every administrative stuff.

If I have you, everything is good.

I suddenly wake up, a bit of a fog in my mind. I see that I am in a consultation room, with a big bearded man behind his desk – he could likely win big at OnlyFans, let an expert tell you.

“Ah, Mr. Gola. You’re awake !” That guy says, chipper. - I’m sorry, but… who are you, again ?” I ask that strange person, confused. - Well, I’m Dr. Davod ! You went here to review your physical health, and we found nothing of note ! - Oh, I’m sorry… well, that’s positive, at least. So, how much do I owe you ?” I ask him, reaching for my wallet in my sweatpants. I’m shirtless, but to be honest, that’s to be expected… - Don’t worry, we’ve already taken care of everything earlier ! I hope to see you again !”

That guy smiles in a very compassionate way. He’s a good doctor, quite visibly, and in my line of work – both the gym one and the… sexy one – a good doctor is of the utmost importance. Yes, I could have easily been one of those if I had worked harder at school and not dropped out in STAPS, but eh, look at me.

Do I not look like the perfect personal trainer – okay, assistant personal trainer? ‘Could never have done that while studying my ass off and not had the time to go to the gym with you. I smile. Yes, you’re the greatest blessing in my life.

“So, please, do say hello to your roommate for me !” Tells Dr. Davod out of the blue. Yes, I now remember you were the one to recommend him to me. - Will do ! Thank you, doctor !”

I step out of the clinic, ready to go back home, under the watchful eye of Dr. Davod. It’s funny, I feel much more ripped than when I came in, much more handsome. You would absolutely love me like that... Yup, I’m set, tonight you’ll get laid, whether you want it or not !

#male transformation #male tf #nerd to jock #nerd to himbo #jock tf #himbo tf #muscle growth #mental change #reality change #straight to demiromantic #straight to demi #transformation #tf story

[sanzaibian]

I love your stories! Your newest addition, the Mexicain twink TF, is my absolute favorite so far <3 Keep 'em coming! :D

I'd like to give sth back to you—do you have a Ko-fi or something where I could send you a tip? ^^

Cheers!

Thank you very much !

I don't currently have any way to tip - I don't even know how to set that up - but that may be something I will consider at some point.

In the meantime, what I really like is feedback, criticisms, or just chatting, so if you want to give me back something, I think these would be the best thing ^^

#ask

[sanzaibian]

Hello, I'm sorry to bother you. This question may be a bit sensitive. What do you think of gay to straight content? Especially anti-gay or conservative content, which has been a trend in the community for some time recently. Of course, you can write stories about any content. I also really like the various race changes and accent even language changes you wrote. I enjoy them very much! Thank you for bringing fresh energy and great content to the community!

Thank you for the praise !

To be honest, gay to straight and lib to con is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. I like it, it presses many of my buttons just right, but I always feel a big uneasiness when I read it. There are stories that are just too heavy in the anti-gay angle for me to enjoy, that kind of uneasiness.

In my opinion, whether the author is phobic or not, there's inherently some undercurrent of homophobia/LGBT-phobia in those lib to con-type stories, which I think is why I'm uneasy with them. Especially in our current political climate where the West is finding itself inside another wave of LGBT-phobia (no later than today I learned that, in my country, a well-known political figure shared a fictitious story about the famous "trans contagion", to me marking the beginnings of this wave, here), it feels especially weird to enjoy that kind of content - though it must be considered whether that trend is in fact not a way to cope with that very wave, needs further research.

In my case, I see myself doing some of that kind of stories, because I find it so hot (I already have ideas with a certain "Linda" character), but only with some specific kinds of framing that, hopefully, will mitigate that inherent touch of homophobia I see in these kinds of stories. But until I can find the right approach, do not expect any to appear ^^'

TLDR; I'm of two minds considering it, but will only consider writing it when I find a good angle that mitigates the homophobic undercurrents.

#ask

[sanzaibian]

Loving the stories so far! Was wondering if you could do some ftm along with rc?

FTM is something I'm interested in, along with more all-over gender-related tfs. I do have my own gender weirdness going on, plus MTF (even though I don't like it as much nowadays) was basically my introduction to tf ^^'

However, I currently don't have any good ideas of stories including it, so don't expect to see any, at least for a while ^^'

#ask

[sanzaibian]

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 !

#male transformation #male tf #twink tf #twunk tf #twinkification #twunkification #age reduction #latino tf #mexican tf #nahua tf #mental change #reality change #transformation #tf story #ask

[sanzaibian]

Hi....🦉

How about a story about a nerdy stepdad accidentally transformed into a dumb daddy by his stepson? (Maybe role reversal 🔃)

Sorry, I can't see myself liking that. Better luck with another creator ! ^^'

#ask

[sanzaibian]

I would love to see more racial tfs, especially do with hairy Arab men!!

You suddenly wake up. You’re on a chair, in front of an imposing-looking man. He has in his hands a few papers, when he locks on your eyes.

“Ah, hello, stranger. I read through the mail you sent us, and I’m sorry to announce that…” His eyes suddenly shine a bright amber color, but only on the next few words before they take back their natural color “… THE CALAMITIES are not found of hairiness in general. Therefore, they might be more… reluctant to grant such request.”

You look at that guy. He seems familiar somehow, but you can’t really put your finger on who he would be. Though, whoever that guy would be, you can say for sure that you didn’t know of his mystical abilities…

“However, since you seem to be especially excited by this prospect, they decided that you should be the one to change…” The man looks at you with a diabolical smile. You smell danger. - This… this is not what I wanted !” You answer, a bit panicked.

Yes, you did send a small message two days ago to a story writer, but that was only kink ! You want to keep your real life and the precious people in it ! Perhaps fix a few things, but nothing is impossible with the right mindset ! The man stands up and goes to a rack full of tools, bottles and diverse objects. You see your opportunity to flee, and yourself stand up on your toes to the door. However, when you’re about to reach it, the voice of the man who lead you here rings :

“You know, this door leads to a mosque, and really, I don’t think that’s how you want things to go.” The man says, nonchalantly. “I mean, people often imagine Arabs to be Islam-fueled terrorists, while in actuality there’s non-negligible Christian Arab communities, Druze and Bahá’í communities, as well as the modern atheists and practitioners of other religions… in addition to the obvious fact that terrorism is not an Arab thing… Even the recent Islamic attacks have mostly been perpetrated by non-Arabs...”

You don’t quite understand why he says that. Why does he need to say that ? It just seems obvious… Though you don’t really notice how he insinuates that you are Arab – even though you’re evidently not. Defeated, you go look around the place, to find another door, yet once again, not even turning his head, he notices you.

“Don’t worry, there are other doors, however you’re too close-minded about the whole operation to notice them…” He trails off. “Ah, I finally found it ! Now we’re going to seriously start !” He suddenly exclaims

He hands you a phone, quite a fancy one. You take it, confused. Is it some kind of trick ? As you see that guy not budging, you try and open the phone, but there is a code on it. You try and enter your code, 0000 and 1234, but each time it shows “تم الرفض”. You do guess that it must mean “Wrong code” or something, but you can’t quite know.

“Having difficulties, I see ? - There’s a code !” You defend yourself. - Well, try to unlock it with your fingerprint !”

You roll your eyes. Of course it can’t work, you’ve never touched this phone before. But you decide to humor him, and touch the button with your fingers. It shows “غير قادر على التعرف على بصمة الإصبع” a few times, until, finally, the phone unlocks.

Just as you see the menu opening, you feel a weird pulsing through your entire body. You look up and see the man smiling. You’ve been tricked, you start to think as you feel your body vibrating. You first of all see your hands starting to shift their grip on the phone as they become larger. Then your forearms become stronger and bigger, and you almost see some black dots on those.

You don’t quite pay attention to those as you look, further down, at your pecs taking a more and more important part of your field of view. It even obscures your abs which are popping, one by one until you have eight well-defined packs. You also feel tension in your upper-back, making you stretch your shoulders far beyond their normal range. You also feel some cramps in your legs, guessing them to be similarly inflating, though you also notice that the desk in front of which you were standing looking a bit farther, farther, and farther. You also feel two muscular globes stretching in your back.

You feel your cheeks itch, so instinctively, you put your free hand on it, and feel the bones shifting under it. But just as it happens, you feel that they start to scratch. You rub on your cheeks, but the small hairs are growing longer and longer, and your hands are starting to dig inside the mass. When they are finally taking the shape of a long stubble, and you feel no change, you pass your hand through the shaved side of the head, expecting to find there some hair. You move your hand higher, and a bit higher still, until you find all the mass of hair on the top. You ruffle it, finding it quite wavy, but as you do that, a few strands fall within your field of view, making you aware of their now black color.

You suddenly notice on your other arm the black dots growing similarly long. In fact, from the hands down you see the little dots becoming tendril, visibly all cut at a certain length just like your new stubble. As you follow the growth down the arm, you finally end up at your now well-defined and well-juiced pecs which are also growing hairs. Your hand that was previously in your hair lowers down to on of those pecs, and you place it under it. And then, you make it jiggle by a swift movement of the wrist. As the hair finishes growing, you’re delighted to be able to do this, and that fills you with excitement – perhaps being transformed isn’t that bad in real life – and, unexpectedly, pride.

You look up to the man, who is still smiling.

“What have you done to me ?” You ask, in a deeper voice than usual. - Nothing that you didn’t aspire to.” He answers, nonchalantly. - But I didn’t ask for that ! It was just… kink, you know. - You may have not, but” Again, his eyes shine a bright amber when he says “THE CALAMITIES have decided to interpret your question this way, akhi (أخي).”

He looks at you with a bit of an evil twinge. Somehow, you’re able to say that his accent is flawless, though perhaps a bit formal – more the accent of those on TV than those in the streets. As you wonder how you know that, you suddenly feel a bit weird on your hands. When you look at them, you seem to find it to be lighter… as if it was dead skin. You scrape it, and indeed it seems that it was dead skin indeed… but below it, the color didn’t feel quite right.

You continue scraping the dead skin, not wanting there to be any left, yet it seems no never end… Doing that, you unveil more and more olive-colored skin, but that color isn’t your priority. In fact, when you scrape your dead skin, you feel like something is changing in your mind. You’re going through your body, your oh so magnificent body. It is so great, so built… and even though it wasn’t how you looked like a mere 10 minutes ago, you start to feel like it has always been part of you. You start to remember your time at the Masna3 Al-3adhalat (مصنع العضلات) (wait, what is that ?) after your first breakup because that guy said you were too ugly. You remember all the long hours grinding on the weights and the different machines. You remember how proud you are of your look.

You smirk to the guy, as the rest of the skin falls off, revealing a rich olive tone. He can’t compete with your perfection. He even wears his beard so long, you much prefer the closer cut you sport. You remember how much care you put into how you look. You monitor heavily the growth of your hairs, of your beard, and of your hairstyle, to make sure that nothing is too long. You also make sure to use all the relevant products to make your skin look as healthy as it can. That’s why all this dead skin disgusted you (did it ?), it means that you may have a skin condition… well, you’ll get an appointment with your dermatologist, it’s no worry.

As your thoughts start shifting, you suddenly remember how you’re a model. Of course you want to look your best ! Some may say it’s haram (حرام), but you don’t really care. Besides, your adventures with men are already plenty haram, but that you won’t admit to them…Your head also starts filling up with all sorts of gym stuff as you remember how you’re also a fitness instructor, and some of your nerdiest interests start fading. No need for stuff like video games, books or films when you’re basically already a hero…

You also start growing hornier and hornier – who wouldn’t with such a hot body – and start thinking of hot people to plow into. Yes, gay sex might be banned in your country, but you travel so much that it doesn’t even matter most of the time. You may be Arab, but you don’t really belong in your home country anymore !

Suddenly, you notice that your phone is still in your hand. What were squiggly lines at first are now perfectly understandable Modern Standard Arabic. You even remember your password, now ! As if it was a reflex, you turn Instagram on. As a model, it’s critically important to be seen like that… even if you actually do like being seen by millions of stranger on internet, regardless of your job. Yet, you don’t see anywhere to take a photo…

“هل هناك مراَة؟ (Is there a mirror ?) - طبعن! تعال معي!؛ (Of course ! Come with me !)”

You don’t even flinch when you ask the question in an accented Standard Arabic – which shows that you didn’t grow up with the standard language, you’re not a businessman’s son or something – nor when he answers with a perfectly understandable accent. It just seems so… natural to speak Arabic. Even more than English. Even more than your native language (wait, you have a native language other than Arabic ?).

That guy brings you to a door you didn’t see before, which lead to a bathroom with a huge mirror. Without hesitation, you switch to your photo app to take a good pic – though not without putting everything back together and flexing, so that it’s as attractive as it can be.

Yup, it’s confirmed, you’re a certified hottie, likely one of the best one over here. You put the picture on Instagram, put away your phone, and put your tank top back on. Then, you turn around and say :

“شكرا جازيلا!؛ (Thank you very much !)”

But when you look around, you see no one. Who were you talking to ? … You can’t quite remember. But eh, you can’t dally around. You have a schedule today, you have multiple clients to guide through their physique-building journey. Although they will never compare with your level of perfection, it’s your job to edge them closer to that level.

So you go back in the gym. There’s work to do, today.

“Who is next ?” You ask, in a very accented English, to a bunch of clients.

================================================

By the way, let me hijack that post to tell everybody that asks are open (in fact, they were always open ^^').

I cannot guarantee that I'll answer you with a story, nor that I'll answer you on time (or at all), but I can guarantee that I'll read everything, so please, do not hesitate !

#male transformation #male tf #jock tf #muscle growth #hair growth #beard growth #hairy tf #racial tf #arab tf #mental change #reality change #transformation #tf story #ask