Six granite hard and gorgeous looking bricks of muscle protruded from my stomach. Each one separated by the deepest of cuts. My whole midsection covered with crazy lumps and alien bumps. It was like a work of art. A freaky, but beautiful creation. And my skin. Did I even have any? All that was there was a thin layer of darkly bronzed film, spread over the perfectly chiselled array of muscle erupting from my torso.
Superpowers! Muscle mags! Bright pink posers! Klingon costumes! "The Real Life G.I Joe"! And er...Donald Trump?! They're all here in this new two part story about a guy called Tobey who visits someone known as “The Transformer” - a guy who has a unique superpower where (for a moderate price!) he can transform anyone willing into the body of any living person they want - for just one day! Including any monstrously huge and freakishly shredded pro bodybuilder they desire!
This is obviously a little different to what I usually write as it has a bit of a supernatural element to it - as well as being a little quirky! I don’t see it as a regular thing, but I really loved writing it - and I've always wanted to write a transformation story. Something involving a guy who suddenly somehow goes from being an average built man to a huge mass muscle monster, and explores how he, and those around him react to his new freakishly muscular body!
As always, a massive thanks in advance to anyone who takes the time to read this. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, and have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!
NOTE: Thanks to Anthony Chia-Bradley for letting me use one of his pics for the below design.
THE DAY I BECAME A MUSCLE FREAK (PART 1)
Standing before me was, quite possibly, the most devastatingly beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. With his piercing blue eyes, a ridiculously square lantern jaw, perfectly preened chestnut coloured hair, and strong, masculine features, The Transformer was the absolute embodiment of male perfection.
And the body. Holy fuck the body. Six foot something and built like a fucking tank. The line separating his pectoral muscles teasingly peeked above the V neck of his dark grey t-shirt (clearly chosen for that very bloody reason), while the rest of his exceptionally broad chest deliciously strained underneath the material. Both of his impressively thick arms bulged below the sleeves of the grey material, and his waist was impressively small, helping to give his torso the most gorgeous V shape. I made a good bet with myself that six perfectly shaped blocks of nicely separated abdominal muscle were lurking underneath his t-shirt.
He certainly wouldn’t be entering any bodybuilding competitions any time soon, but it wasn’t hard to imagine The Transformer standing on stage in nothing but a pair of board shorts, competing in a physique, or fitness model class.
“Are you Tobey?” Oh God that accent. Thick, Northern and completely adorable. I suddenly start to panic. How the actual buggering fuck was I supposed to have a conversation with a man that beautiful?
“Ummm, yeah. Hi there,” I nervously replied. Technically I was lying, but he probably knew that. It’s never good practice to give out your real name when you’re involved in these kind of dodgy superpower dealings.
He didn’t even bother offering up an alias for himself. He just flashed me a reassuringly friendly and heart melting smile and before I knew it, I was entering into the outrageously handsome stranger’s flat and following him into his living room, whilst also admiring the immensely beautiful rear of his V shaped physique, and unashamedly checking out the modestly plump and completely edible arse stretching out the material of his jeans. Woof times three.
“Can I get you a drink Tobey?”
“Can I just get some water?” I nervously replied.
“Sure,” The Transformer said. “Take a seat. Make yourself at home,” he added as he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me alone in his rather compact but modern flat.
I took a seat on the three seater couch of the most beautiful man I’d ever met and I suddenly spotted an object which cried out for my attention.
Casually lying on the coffee table in front of me was a magazine with a very familiar man on the front cover.
“Still or sparking?” The Transformer’s absurdly sexy voice called from the kitchen.
“Still please,” I replied, as I leant forward to inspect the insanely gorgeous man on the front of the magazine cover. The same man who is mere meters away from me getting me a beverage. The same man whose coach I was currently sitting on.
Under the magazine title of “Ultimate Male Fitness” was the most stunning black and white shot of The Transformer in a tight t-shirt. His impressively muscular and thick arms wrapped behind his head in an effortlessly sexy manner.
For the first time since meeting The Transformer and entering his house my mind drifted to the magazine hiding in my backpack.
I was nervous about what The Transformer would think of the men gracing the pages of said magazine, as anyone would be. But discovering that he was not only an impressively muscular man himself, but also a model gracing the pages of a men’s fitness magazine, my apprehension started to ease considerably.
I suddenly noticed a yellow post it note peaking out of the top of the magazine. Mysteriously written on it were the numbers “10/07”. The day’s date.
I nervously peeled back the corner of the magazine to try and get a sneaky peak at what was on the marked page.
The words “MEET THE REAL LIFE G.I JOE” were revealed and I just got a glimpse of the tight, modestly meaty pecs and lovely, peeled, six pack abs of The Transformer, when the real life version took me surprise and unexpectedly walked back into the room.
I quickly retreated from the magazine, but it was too late. I’d been busted. A mischievous smirk was suddenly rested on The Transformer’s devastatingly sexy, male fitness model worthy face.
“It’s OK, mate,” he said with a warm tone. “I don’t mind you checking out that magazine.”
I couldn’t help but blush at the situation. “Did you...enjoy doing the shoot?” I asked. It was the only thing I could think to ask him to show my interest in the subject.
“Ummm....yeah. Of course.” He looked a little flustered at the question, and curiously, not entirely convincing in his answer.
He handed me a glass of water, sat down on the sofa chair next to the one I was resting on and quickly changed the subject. “So did you come from far today, Tobey?”
“No, just North London. Twenty minute tube journey,” I replied. The Transformer took a seat on the sofa chair next to mine.
“Ahhhh, that’s handy for you. I have people coming to see me from all over the world you know. Canada, the States, Australia!”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed, though not necessarily surprised given his superpower.
“I even had a guy come over from Singapore the other week. Singapore! Imagine that!”
As he said this with a sense of amazement, he let out a sort of half-snort, and I couldn’t help feeling that the way The Transformer talked didn’t quite match up with the way he looked.
“So. Tobey,” he begun conspicuously. “Don't feel pressure to tell me but...do you have one of these superpowers yourself?”
I immediately felt my cheeks burning up and my mouth curling into an ominous smirk. “I do,” I said in a non committing manner.
“Hmmmm. Something tells me you’re not one for sharing your power?” The Transformer playfully asked.
“Sorry,” I replied, but only out of politeness. My reasonably harmless but utterly fantastic superpower isn’t exactly embarrassing. It’s just not the most appropriate power to discuss with a complete stranger. Or most people really.
“Is it a fun superpower at least?”
“Oh yeah,” I replied. And it most definitely is. Granted, it had a few teething problems at first, and lead me into to some rather sticky (no pun intended) and embarrassing situations. But, like most powers, once I’d learned to control it and only use it when I wanted to, boy oh boy did I start to have fun with it.
“Awesome,” The Transformer replied. “Those are the best kinds of powers.”
“One last question, then I’ll drop the subject,” he continued. Man he was curious about my superpower. “Would I have....heard of you?”
I told him most likely and blushed even harder at the thought of my rather cool and very fitting superpower name (not self given I might add). I’ve lost count of how many times someone had said to me, “Have you heard about the guy who can…”
Yeah, I guess I’m fairly well known in superpower circles. I’ve heard quite a few people say they’d like to meet me, some of which I definitely would NOT use my power on (yuck), and others who I definitely would (woof). The absurdly beautiful man whose coach I’d found myself sitting on that day was definitely in the latter camp.
“So I’m guessing you know this works, but I’ll run through it anyway,” The Transformer began. It was apparently time to get down to business.
"For twenty-four hours I can transform you into any living person you like. They have to be living though. I can’t do dead people. You have no idea how many requests I get from people wanting to transform into Michael Jackson. Or Marilyn Monroe That last request mostly comes from men.” He lets out one of his half snorts again. “Men walking around out there in the body of Marilyn Monroe. Imagine that.”
All of this I knew already, but The Transformer continued to explain his services anyway.
“What you do in that twenty-four hours is totally on you. I don’t take responsibility for anything. Also a friendly word of advice. You might wanna make sure you’re alone when you transform back into your normal self. Unless it’s with someone who knows it’s really you, obviously.”
Hearing The Transformer explain what I was about to go through, I suddenly felt a little apprehensive about the whole thing.
What if I didn’t like being in somebody else’s body? What if I regretted my choice? What if something went disastrously wrong?
“All OK so far? It’s not too late to back out,” he reassured me.
I impulsively and quickly responded. “No! I mean, I don’t want to back out. I guess I’m just a little nervous?”
He flashed me one of his gorgeous, warm smiles. “That’s normal. Lots of people feel like that. It’s just the fear of the unknown.”
The Transformer then raised the issue of payment and I fumbled into my wallet to retrieve almost a month’s worth of wages in cash to hand to the stunning specimen of man before me.
There was, of course, many who thought that using one’s superpower for financial gains was unethical. The Transformer, however, didn’t seem to have any hang ups with regards to this.
“One last thing, Tobey. Whoever you want to transform into, I need to see a picture of them.”
I gulped and felt a pang of nerves in my stomach as I pictured the men who featured in the magazine tucked up in my backpack. This was the part of the process I had been dreading. The part that almost talked me out of embarking on the whole experience.
“Even if they’re super duper famous, I still need a picture,” he explained.
Super duper? God that’s adorable. But again - not the kind of thing I’d expect someone like The Transformer to say.
My stomach tightened in knots once more. What would The Transformer think when he saw the pictures of the kind of men I wanted to spend the next day in the body of? I had to warn him, surely.
Another curiosity suddenly entered my head. “I have a question,” I cautiously began.
“Go ahead - ask me anything,” he replied.
“Will I...transform in front of you?”
“Yep,” he said. “Right here in this flat. It’s the only way to do it I’m afraid.”
Oh shit. I definitely had to warn him.
“So, If you’re ready - let’s get to it. So whose body do you fancy inhibiting for the next twenty-four hours, Tobey?”
My heart started beating faster. “OK, so I don’t yet have a specific guy in mind, but I know the kind of person I want to be transformed to. There’s a few candidates shall we say”.
“OK,” he curiously said. “That’s no problem.”
“They’re all in a magazine I have. But before I show you a picture,” I nervously continued, “I feel like I should probably warn you.”
The Transformer smirked to himself in amusement. “Oh-kay,” he sceptically said, giving me the benefit of the doubt.
“The guys in this magazine. Well, they’re a little...extreme.”
He gave me a reassuring smile. “Tobey. I’ve done a LOT of transformations and I’ve had a lot of....unique requests. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“OK,” I said, a little more relaxed but still weary of how The Transformer would react when he saw an image of the kind of person I was requesting to be transformed into.
I picked up and unzipped my backpack, before reaching in to take out the kind of magazine I used to be terrified to buy as a teenager, and nervously handed it to the almost sickeningly handsome man sitting across from me.
The second The Transformer saw the image of the outrageously huge and frighteningly muscular mass monster on the cover of one of the most hardcore bodybuilding magazines on the market, his expression changed.
As The Transformer stared in complete shock, amazement and ever so sight fear at one of the biggest, nastiest and freakiest professional bodybuilders on the planet in all his monstrous, shredded, barely human glory, I took a deep breath and nervously revealed my intention. “I want to be transformed into a bodybuilder.”
“BLOODY HELL!” The Transformer exclaimed in response. He was still unable to tear his comically wide eyes away from the enormous flexed muscle freak staring back at him from the cover of my magazine. “This guy’s HUGE!”
Along with my cheeks burning up, I suddenly found my mouth curling into an amused smile. I loved the fact that such an image of a huge, freaky muscle monster (the very kind of muscle monster I’d been uncontrollably lusting over since I was a horny teenager) had caused such an extreme reaction. Particularly from a man who had not long before, very confidently assured me that he was incapable of being shocked.
I also found it completely adorable, but also rather surprising, that such a reaction would come from a man as muscular as The Transformer. A man who’d clearly dedicated a considerable amount of time to weight training, had even graced the front cover of a men’s fitness magazine and was not far off being worthy of entering a physique competition. Surely such a man would have encountered an image of a professional bodybuilder before, if not even met one in real life?
“His arm looks bigger than my bloody head,” The Transformer continued, before finally tearing his eyes away from the bronzed, jacked monster on the page and looking up at me.
“So I’m gonna have this guy standing in my living room?” As he posed the question, the dumbfounded expression which had occupied his face for the past few minutes seemed to morph into a smile. Whether it was excitement, or just amusement at the surreal and admittedly rather crazy notion that he’d soon be in the presence of a man so huge and muscular, I wasn’t entirely sure. I couldn’t help but wonder; if a picture of said muscle freak caused such an extreme reaction, how was The Transformer going to react to having the real thing (or a superpower addled doppelgänger at least) standing before him in the flesh?
“Well, maybe not him exactly,” I began in response to his question. “He’s an option. But there’s a few guys in that magazine I wouldn't mind transforming into.”
“Are any of them bigger than this guy?” he exclaimed, pointing to the mass muscle monster on the front of the magazine he was still clutching.
“Some probably are,” I said, smirking and getting a kick out of provoking such an amusing and incredibly endearing reaction from this absurdly beautiful man.
“FUCKING HELL!” he comically and adorably exclaimed. “Well I take it all back, Tobey mate. I definitely hadn’t seen it all before. But I have now. Oh and this is definitely the most unique transformation request I’ve ever done. And I had Donald twatting Trump in my flat last week.”
“Was that the day he dropped out of the elections by any chance?” I curiously asked.
“Yup,” he replied, a proud, almost smug expression momentarily leaking on his face. “I take no responsibility though remember,” he added, still looking rather pleased with himself.
“OK, Tobey. So before you transform, I’m gonna have to ask you do something that you might not feel completely comfortable with.”
I intently and curiously listened as The Transformer continued.
“If you’re transforming into someone of a similar size, or smaller, you can get away with not doing this, but, well...you definitely can’t,” he said, glancing once more in awe and amazement at the monster on the front of my muscle mag.
“I’m afraid, you’re gonna have to strip. Probably to your undies.”
Not only had I mentally prepared for this eventuality, but I’d even come wearing appropriate clothing. If I was going to be transform into a huge, shredded, 200 plus pounds bodybuilder, there was only thing I wanted to be wearing.
I blushed as I thought of said item, hiding under my jeans. How the hell was The Transformer going to react when he saw me wearing those?
“No problem,” I nervously and not completely truthfully said. Of course I was going to feel embarrassed standing in front of, not just a stranger, but one with such an incredible physique as The Transformer had, almost completely naked, with almost everything exposed. The then exposed item of clothing I was going to be wearing would only increase that embarrassment to an enormous degree, but it had to be done.
I had fantasised about the moment I would transform into an outrageously huge, competition conditioned bodybuilder so much, and I’d be damned if it were to happen any other way than I’d imagined.
“Time to make your decision then, Tobey mate. Which one of these guys are you going to be for the next twenty-four hours?”
He passed me back my muscle magazine, and looking up and down my slim, perfectly average body, with an amused smile on his face, he added, “This is gonna be one fun transformation to watch.”
I sheepishly smirked as I took the magazine, and as I looked down at Johnnie Roberts, one of the biggest, most hardcore and well known professional bodybuilders in the world, blasting out a side chest pose, his entire body a mass of enormous, carved out, freak show worthy muscle mass, I was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming sense of excitement that I was about to inhibit such a body.
How was it going to feel to be that huge and muscular? To look in the mirror and see the very thing which turned me on more than anything else in the world staring back at me? I was about to find out, but first, I needed to decide exactly which shredded muscle freak I was about to transform into.
The muscle magazine was packed with an array of bodybuilders of different varieties and almost every page had a potential candidate.
American mass muscle monsters, insanely shredded amateur European guys and adorably cute, young Canadian muscle pups all graced the pages.
Some had beautifully carved out abs, others had freakishly shredded glutes. Some were dry and conditioned to an almost alien-like degree, while others were just flat out fucking monsters, most likely tipping the scales at over 300 pounds. How the fuck was I supposed to decide?
“I’m gonna have to push you a little for a decision, Tobey. Sorry, mate.”
Feeling the pressure, I’d narrowed it down in my head to a bodybuilder with one particular attribute; whoever I chose, he had to be in insanely shredded condition.
Just as that decision was made, I turned the page and happened to find the absolute perfect candidate.
His name was Stephen Dresner, a slightly quirky but handsome looking twenty-something bodybuilder from the UK who’d just wowed the judges at a huge amateur bodybuilding competition in Europe with his off the charts shredded conditioning, and earned himself his pro card in the process.
I was already familiar with this ridiculously hot and freakishly conditioned bodybuilder, who just so happened to be very well known for one particular body part. A body part which was unfortunately hidden in the stage shot of him squeezing out an insane most muscular pose (outrageously cocky shit-eating grin and all) staring back at me from the page. Nevertheless, my decision had been made.
“OK. I’ve found my guy,” I said, my emotions a heady mix of nerves and excitement. I tentatively passed the magazine back to The Transformer, unsure of whether a picture of a crazily conditioned muscle freak would provoke as strong of a reaction as that of a big named mass muscle monster.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” he exclaimed at the image of excessively shredded Stephen Dresner. “Is that even human?” I let out a short chuckle. “Barely mate!” I replied. The Transformer hadn’t seen all of Stephen yet. How would he react when faced with his biggest, freakiest and most famous asset?
“How does someone even get like that?” The Transformer asked.
I playfully shrugged. “Visit someone with a superpower who can transform you into anyone you desire?”
The Transformer chuckled and I felt ever so slightly smug at the fact that I’d managed to make a man so outrageously beautiful laugh. “Well...that’s one option,” he playfully retorted.
“Do you think any of these guys are so muscular because of some superpower they have?”
“Possibly,” I said. I didn’t feel like getting into a whole conversation with The Transformer about it, but I had heard of a guy who could apparently transform his regular sized body, into a huge, hulking mass of muscle, worthy of professional bodybuilder status whenever he liked.
“So, now I have my picture. All I need you to do is, erm...de-clothe.”
“Right,” I said apprehensively. On top of being slightly nervous to show off my perfectly average body, which happened to be ridiculously inferior to The Transformer’s, I was also worried about the garment I would be revealing under my jeans. An idea suddenly hit me. “Can I not do it from another room?”
The Transformer shook his head. “I’m afraid not, mate. Besides, this is one transformation I have to see. Look Tobey - don’t be embarrassed. Trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot more out of shape bodies than yours. Not that you’re even out of shape. You look fine to me mate. More than fine actually.”
This seemingly genuine and completely adorable statement took me by complete surprise. Was The Transformer just trying to work his charm on me to get me to relax, or, was there any remote, slim possibility that this utterly stunning man was actually flirting with me? Maybe he could sense that I clearly had the hots for him (but then, who the fuck wouldn’t?) and he was one of those straight men comfortable enough with his sexuality to dabble in harmless flirting with a gay male admirer. Or maybe, just maybe, he was on the same bus as I was.
As I pondered the sexuality of The Transformer, he was giving me the warmest, most sincere and utterly gorgeous smile. I wanted to melt. Straight into his thick, impressively muscular, fitness magazine cover gracing arms.
Instead, feeling suddenly at ease, I stood up and began to undress. After offering me another drink, The Transformer headed to the kitchen, leaving me alone to remove the rest of my clothes.
My apprehension only returned when I was undoing my belt buckle in preparation to remove my jeans, and as I undid the top few buttons, I saw the indecently shiny, bright pink material of the posing trunks I’d bought especially for the occasion.
Admittedly they sagged around the arse a little, but boy did they feel fucking good. I’d never really questioned why, but I’d always found these tiny, shiny, usually colourful garments, normally only worn by bodybuilders and muscle freaks alike, a massive turn on. Even against my pale, non muscular body, the indecently shiny trunks looked incredibly fucking sexy. Unfortunately I wasn’t too hopeful that the man in the next room would look at them in quite the same light.
As I awkwardly stood in the middle of The Transformer’s living room wearing nothing but my newly bought pink posers and awaited his return, my attention turned to the shelves against the wall, containing what must have been the biggest collection of Star Trek DVD’s.
I couldn’t help but be amused at the realisation that a drop dead gorgeous muscle fitness model with a physique as incredible as The Transformer’s had a not-so secret geeky side.
I then spotted another item on the shelf. Next to the DVD collection was a photo frame containing a picture of two men. One of whom I instantly recognised as a famous actor, presumably from Star Trek. The other, an admittedly nerdy but still rather cute looking man in a Klingon costume and big prosthetic ears grinning wildly at the camera.
My stomach suddenly twisted into a tight knot as I heard The Transformer’s voice. He was speaking to me as he was re-entering the room.
“Sorry, Tobey mate, I’ve run out of ice. Hope that's -” The Transformer suddenly stopped mid sentence, and as I looked up, a slightly baffled but amused look was spread across his utterly beautiful face.
“Here you go, mate,” he said, as he passed me the glass. He was barely able to wipe the grin from his face.
As he went over to sit on his sofa, he approached the subject head on. “OK, mate, I gotta ask. The underwear. Is that, like...a new fashion?”
Still blushing, I sheepishly responded. “They’re posing trunks.”
Still looking confused, he replied, “Oh-kaaaay,” in a tone which suggested he needed a much better explanation.
“Bodybuilders wear them. When they compete,” I explained.
“Oh right. Gotcha. Ha! Wow, you’re really getting into the part aren’t you? Nice!”
His response made me feel a little less embarrassed, until he posed his next question.
“Are they always pink?”
“Not always,” I sheepishly replied, furiously blushing once again, as his mouth curled into another amused smirk.
“OK, mate. You about ready?”
I suddenly felt an overwhelming nervousness. “I think so,” I said.
He smiled. “You’ll be fine. Just try and relax.”
I suddenly wondered what the actual transformation would feel like. “The Transformation,” I began. “Does it...hurt?”
He gave me a reassuring smile and shook his head. “No, mate. It doesn’t hurt. But it is a pretty...intense sensation. You might lose your breath a little. But it’s over very quickly. If you’re really nervous, I’d probably recommend you close your eyes. And when you open them you’ll be…” he picked up my muscle magazine and read from the page featuring my chosen bodybuilder, “Stephen Dresner. Britain’s newest pro bodybuilder.”
I was incredibly nervous but I also felt an intense and heady rush of excitement at the prospect of what was about to happen.
“OK Tobey, you ready?”
I took a deep breath. “Ready,” I replied.
“Ooooh, wait,” The Transformer suddenly exclaimed. “There's something I’ve forgotten". He jumped up and darted out of the room, only to return carrying a full length mirror.
“I bring this out for most people. So you can see the full effect of The Transformation,” he said, propping the mirror in front of me.
Staring back at me was my slim built body. It wasn’t exactly unattractive. I was in pretty good shape and had a little muscle definition from fairly regular trips to the gym, but it was, if nothing else, a completely unremarkable physique.
The only striking image in my reflection were the modestly filled out, indecently shiny, bright pink posing trunks I’d squeezed myself into. God knows what had gone through The Transformer’s head when he’d walked into his living room to find me wearing those.
“OK, Tobey, let’s try again. You ready?”
“Ready, mate,” I replied. With my heart rapidly pounding in my chest, I shut my eyes and braced myself for the unexpected.
To be continued…
UPDATE: Part 2 of the story can be found here.