Scot TF

[18+] Transformation Blog (Male TF, Sports-related TF, and occasionally others) Feel free to make a request!

Last update
2020-06-03 17:03:35

    There is no room in the transformation fiction and art communities for racism.

    There is no room in the transformation fiction and art communities for complacency with racism because it’s not happening to you.

    To my fellow transformation blogs, writers and artists: it is highly likely that you have a following. Use it for good. Amplify black voices. Link people to places that will educate them. Show people where they can donate or sign petitions. Encourage people to vote. If you have a platform, please use it. Your silence says everything.

    If you’re at all offended with me posting about #BlackLivesMatter on my blog or think that politics shouldn’t be discussed on TF blogs then please unfollow me right now. 

    If you’re the type to respond to these discussions with #AllLivesMatter or #BlueLivesMatter then please unfollow me right now.

    If you’re planning to turn your head and stay silent about what is going on in the world then please unfollow me right now.

    A Night in Tokyo

    Julian and Olivia had just gotten married to each other, and upon returning to their generous suburban home (thanks to their families’ combined wealth), Julian surprised her with plane tickets for their honeymoon in Japan. “Oh my god, babe, you shouldn’t have!” squealed Olivia as she dived in for a hug, her husband smirking as he knew he’d just guaranteed himself some pussy tonight.

    A week or so later, they’d arrived in Tokyo, and after the 15 hour flight they were practically ready to collapse. Neverless, they stepped into their chauffeured luxury car they’d booked in advance, which swept them along the urban highways past the dazzling city night lights to their hotel. It turned out, in reality, to be closer to Yokohama, but it was 3am and one of the most luxurious spa hotels in the city - so it’s not like they were too bothered.

    They quickly checked in, not having the energy to appreciate the surrounds as they fumbled their bags to their penthouse suite. As they were checking in, they noticed a large group of men in white sports uniforms checking in at the same time - Julian couldn’t tell what sport they played, he just knew they looked like beefier soccer players and were definitely not Japanese.

    Arriving at their door, Olivia scanned the key card and pushed the door open, revealing the most extravagant hotel room imaginable, prompting her to gasp, “Oh my god, it’s beautiful,” as Julian smiled smugly behind her. “Sure is, sweetie.” Using the last of their energy, they dumped their cases on the floor and stripped down to their underwear before diving onto the king-size bed with its plump cushions and mattress and within a few minutes falling fast asleep.

    A couple of hours later, Julian’s eyes snapped open. His skin felt, somehow, extremely uncomfortable and itchy, “This hotel got fuckin’ bedbugs or something?” he muttered to himself in frustration. He started to scratch himself furiously, and found that his skin had taken on a rough, almost leathery texture. “The fuck...?” he mumbled, noticeably pale. “Babe, wake up,” he said, giving the shape of his wife’s body a nudge through the blanket.

    Olivia turned onto her side, and let out a deep groan, which startled him slightly. As she turned to him, mumbling, “What is it...” in a distinctly deeper tone than before, Julian could see her face. It seemed almost squarer, and somehow she had a very light coating of stubble on her chin. Her eyebrows were a little thicker, and her long brown hair was distinctly shorter. Julian could only assume that he was dreaming, after all, how the fuck does someone change like that in a couple of hours?

    While Olivia seemed totally oblivious, Julian was able to see the rest of her changes when she pulled over the bedsheet to step out of bed and get herself a glass of water. Her arms and legs were thicker, looking borderline muscular, and her breasts were a bit smaller and flatter. She seemed slightly taller too, and her ass was actually more plump-looking - and was now somehow contained in a pair of boxer briefs rather than lingerie. On top of that, those briefs seemed to have a very slight protrusion in the front, like her clit had swollen up.

    Julian stuttered, “You look... different...” as he stared at her in shock. Olivia checked the mirror before turning to face him, responding in her new voice, “What are you talking about? I suppose I might need to shave soon...” while rubbing her chin nonchalantly. Julian decided he was definitely dreaming at this point, and decided to just try and get back to sleep, pulling the covers over himself and trying to ignore his skin.

    However, he quickly failed at this, yelling out in agony as his own body started to change - Olivia paying no attention. His body forced himself into a fetal position, while his skin raised into permanent goosebumps and turned porcelain white all over his body. His knees and thighs sunk into his stomach, with his calves and feet wrapping around and merging into his ass. He would have been sobbing if his mouth hadn’t sealed itself shut, at the same time as his hair fell out and his nose flattened into his face. He started losing his vision just as his arms were absorbed into his egg-shaped torso, which started smoothing out and losing any sort of hints of his former limbs. Internally screaming, what was left of his head retracted into his torso, as a blue and green pattern appeared around the pointed parts of Julian’s smooth leathery egg-body, which finally shrank down to about a foot long rugby ball.

    Despite his new form, the absolutely distressed Julian found that he could still think and feel, as well see with a limited range. Thanks to this, he could see the happily unbothered Olivia going through her final changes. Her shoulder-length hair rapidly retreated into her scalp, leaving her with a short, practical haircut while her stubble slightly thickened. Her face finished its masculinisation and was now totally unrecognisable, and her neck thickened along with her new Adam’s apple. Her flattened boobs swelled back up, this time as luscious pecs, with an impressive thick set of abs to match them.

    Julian found himself getting aroused at the sight of this hunky new man forming in front of him, and yelled in his mind, “What the fuck!? I’m not gay!” which did not make him any less turned-on. Olivia’s arms and already firm biceps bulked up considerably, enough to stretch any shirt she would ever wear, and her hands thickened to complete them. Her legs swelled up with pure muscle dramatically, into those which only a professional rugby player could have, with her new boxer briefs already on the brink of bursting. That was not at all helped with her already expanded ass growing just a little bit more, and her former swollen clit rapidly inflating into a full-blown 9-inch uncut cock, complete with a pair of churning balls.

    Julian could think of nothing but Olivia. Despite his internal protests, his mind was now totally rewired so that when Olivia - Owen, rather - approached him and picked him up with his meaty hands, even his touch feeling like a full-body orgasm to Julian. Owen put him down for a moment to pull on his white perfectly tight-fitting rugby jersey and shorts, slid his boots onto his significantly larger feet, before picking Julian back up with a very firm grip - another debilitatingly pleasurable orgasm. “Fuckin’ hate getting up early for games,” the English rugby player groaned, heading out of the luxury of the bedroom for the stadium to meet the rest of the national team with his duffel bag over his wide shoulders and Julian in hand.

    Birthday Package

    (Slightly belated) birthday gift for @grant-spiraltf!

    It was Grant’s birthday, and he didn’t really have any plans - just chilling out in his flat in his pajamas and going out for a meal later on. At about 1pm, however, he got a knock at the door. Reluctantly getting up off the sofa, he opened the door to a bored-looking delivery man, who handed over a small parcel and simply said, “Package for Grant.” He then made his way back down the stairs, before Grant closed the door and placed the package on his kitchen counter. He tore the paper apart, revealing a small, flat cardboard box. Intrigued, he lifted the lid off the box to reveal a neatly folded pair of bright blue lycra boxer briefs. Under Armour, from the looks of it. As he held them up to admire the anonymous present, he revealed a flattened black baseball cap in the bottom of the box, and a small card reading simply, “Enjoy, Scott”. Grant chuckled, and discarded the note into the bin, before inspecting the underpants closely. “Bet that cunt’s done something to them,” he laughed, before stripping off his pajamas regardless and slipping the briefs on. “They’re snug,” he remarked, walking over to the mirror in his bedroom to check out how they framed his ass. Not that he was surprised, but as he checked it out, his two cheeks inflated as if someone was blowing air into them. Grant grinned, giving his firm bubble butt a squeeze. He knew that Scott’d pull through with something like this. Next, a sudden squeeze in his crotch alerted him that his balls had just swollen up, and that his cock was thickening up nicely, forming a hefty bulge in his new garment. His skinny thighs then bulked up significantly into those of a bodybuilder, stretching the briefs until they almost seemed ready to split in two - noticeably losing the light covering of hair they previously had. “Wow,” Grant laughed, “This feels fuckin’ great,” in a cocky new tone. His calves followed suit, also losing their hair, making his legs look well-proportioned, before his feet creaked longer, rendering the shoes he currently owned obsolete. Grant was looking forward to the next part. The small amount of fat on his stomach was quickly pulled right, before being converted into a solid six-, bordering on eight-pack, the like of which he’d never seen in person before. Next, his flat chest swelled out suddenly, ballooning out into a bouncy pair of almost breast-like pecs, soft and pillowy in contrast to his firm ass. Grant took his hand and gave his pecs a quick squeeze, his new cock jolting as his fingers brushed against his newly sensitive nipples, muttering, “Fuck, I look good,” under his breath. With a crunch, his shoulders widened and muscle was piled onto his back, and his biceps doubled in size almost instantly, a couple of veins snaking their way down his arm. He flexed his bicep with a smug grin, with his fingers thickening simultaneously. His neck thickened slightly as he was forced to cough, his voice deepening as he did, and his jaw reshaped itself to become wide and masculine. The rest of his face changed rather drastically - his ears enlarged, his brows thickened, and his lips thinned, before it was topped off with a decent coating of facial hair as the cherry on top. Grant lumbered his way back to the sleek, modern kitchen to grab the cap, placing it on top of his new head of short, well-groomed hair, and in doing so rearranged his memories, going from a student to a bodybuilder, and reconnecting all of his relationships and family to match his new body. Returning to the mirror, Ryan admired himself, rubbed his stubble, and in his thick English accent stated, “Fuck, I’m a beauty,” with a wide grin.


    how about inārs kivlenieks being transformed into his own skinsuit, which is used to turn someone else into a slutty gay replica of him who never takes it off?


    “Are you really sure this will work?” asked Inärs, staring at his skin suit in front of him. He had no problems slipping into before, but the higher-ups decided he would be the first one to test out a jelly like substance that would help him slide in easier. 

    “Of course,” said the dude who applied the stuff. “I’ve done this a bunch of times.” The man did do it a bunch of times, but not with the result Inärs expected. The beefy luger stripped down to just his underwear, a tight fitting jockstrap that was holding in a thick cock. Inärs blushed as he picked up the front of the suit and started to step into it. However, something weird was happening. 

    No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t let go from the suit. His fingers and feet were now a part of the skin suit. “What the fuck is going on here!?” Inärs angrily asked the man, who was smirking at the sight. 

    “Well, Mr. Kivlenieks, you are one of the first to test out a new suit. Only in this case, you’ll become the suit.” Inärs watched as the man put on some thick gloves and grabbed the suit. He dropped it to illustrate that whatever the gloves were made out protected him from the jelly, and then he did what Inärs was hoping he wouldn’t do. 

    He began pulling the suit closer to the luger’s body, transforming him into his own skin suit. Inärs screamed for help, but the man just continued to smile as more and more of the Olympian’s body was gone, now part of the suit. The final part of the body that needed to be morphed was the head, and Inärs felt a terrible and searing pain as his head was pushed into the fabric. Once the hairs on top of his skull were morphed into fabric, the man dropped the suit and it crumpled to the ground. Inärs no longer existed; well, the real Inärs. 

    The man then took off his gloves and put on the skin suit himself. All the jelly that had caused the transformation was gone, and as the man put it on, another transformation happened. Slowly but surely, he became Inärs. His body type changed to match his, and his chest became bigger and hairier. As he expected, his cock was bigger too. And finally, when the suit was zippered up, there was a blinding flash of white light, and Inärs’ head now appeared on top of his body, previously the man’s. 

    The new Inärs retired from luging immediately, as none of the memories transferred over. But in the same announcement, he also came out as gay. A second, more sexually explicit announcement was made later that he was opening an OnlyFans account. Inärs’ claim to fame was that he would never take off the suit. He did have it adapted so that his cock and ass could be exposed, but everything else except his head would be covered forever. Inärs became much more popular in this new life, and nobody ever figured out the real Inärs was always visible as well, taut and stretched all over his own body. 


    Birthday Present

    @scot-tf was tired and upset. He drove all the way to the city since the Starbucks there opens an hour earlier than the others, but when he got there they were all out of whipped cream. “And there’s absolutely nothing you can do? You can’t quickly go to the store and get a can?” The barista shook her head. “No sir, as you can see I’m the only employee working at the moment and I can’t leave the store unmanned. Perhaps try another venue?” Scot huffed and walked out while muttering some curses under his breath.

    On the way back to the parking lot, he saw a coffee cart. Normally he wouldn’t notice it, but with his craving for a coffee with cream, he was ready to try almost anything. He walked up to the stand and noticed that the vendor was very handsome. He was even wearing a tuxedo. He inspected the prices and found them to be a little higher than Starbucks, so he was contemplating going back. “Rough morning eh?” The deep voice startled Scot. “You look like you really need… A coffee with cream? And let me guess, Starbucks didn’t have any more cream?” Scot looked bewildered. “How did you…?” The man laughed. “Buddy you’re coming from the direction of the only coffeeshop that’s open at this hour. And the cream was a complete guess. Tell you what, since you really do look like you need a coffee, how about you get a cup on me.” The man placed a cup on the counter and crossed his arms. Scot was conflicted, since it seemed kind of sketchy, but after a minute he decided to accept the charity. “Thanks man!” Scot grabbed the cup, flashed a smile and walked off.

    “Damn this is delicious! Guess I’m not going to Starbucks any longer.” Scot turned the corner and at the same time, some asshole who wasn’t paying attention bumped into him, making him spill his coffee. “What the fuck dude?! Watch where you’re going?” The guy screamed at him while trying to wring the beverage out his shirt. “I have to watch where I’m going?! You’re the one who thinks their phone is more important than basic safety!” The guy looked up, pissed as fuck. He charged at scot and pushed him into a wall. “What did you say? That’s it, you’re paying me a new shirt.” While keeping Scot against a wall, the stranger’s hand travelled down to his pants and searched through his pockets but found nothing. “Sorry dude, left my wallet at home, payed for that coffee with the change in my pocket.” Scot smirked before feeling a fist land in his stomach. He closed his eyes and braced himself for another blow.

    “The fuck is happening.” He heard the guy muttering. Scot opened one eye and looked down to where his stomach and the fist were touching. To his shock, it looked like Scot’s white shirt was merging with the caucasian skin of his attacker, with some of the coffee around the fusion. “The fuck kind of coffee did I buy?” “I don’t know buddy, look I’m sorry, I should have looked, I just got broken up with so I was still pissed at my ex gf and I took it out on you.” Scot started to feel sorry for the dude and tried to push him away, but his hands slipped and they fell backwards. Scot felt the man under him heat up and start to writhe so he tried to stand up. When his arms extended he heard a groan under him and he got pulled down again. “Bro are you growing?” Scot looked back down at the guy who used to be about a head taller than him, but now Scot was able to look him straight in the eyes. Those beautiful green eyes… 

    Suddenly Scot’s lips lunged forwards in a love-filled haze. With a new hunger, both guys start to make out. Somewhere in his mind, he could hear his lovers thoughts. “What am i even doing..? I’m straight!” Scot felt the pair of lips hesitate for a split second, but they continued with renewed passion. After not too long, Scot felt the lips reach for his, but they were too far away. Reality came back to Scot’s hazed mind and he realised that the guy was about a metre tall now. “I never got to introduce myself buddy, I’m Scot.” The guy smiled. “I’m Jeffery, but please call me Jeff.” Scot’s dick suddenly got fully erect, and he tried to grope himself but Jeff was in the way. “Allow me.” Scot felt Jeff worm a little before letting out a hard moan. Jeff started grinding against him, getting Scot closer and closer to the edge. Jeff felt the transformation completing, so he went into overdrive, pounding himself against Scot before giving in. When Scot started shooting, he felt Jeff disappear and the texture of his shirt started to change, but he soon passed out from the orgasm.

    “What am I doing on the sidewalk?” He pushed himself back up to his feet. “Did I stumble? Ah shit I dropped my coffee too, luckily I got nothing on me.” Jeffery brushed the dust off his shirt and looked at his watch. “Great, and now I’m also late for my training.” He quickly turned around, grabbed the cup and threw it in the trash. Then he hopped on his bicycle and paddled away. He noticed a strange aftertaste. “What a weird cup of coffee, don’t think I’ll be getting another one from there anytime soon. What kind of name is Grant Spiral Coffee anyway?”


    I accidentally posted this yesterday but it wasnt done yet lol, so i put it on private and it’s done, but since idk if tumblr notifies people, here it is once again ;).

    Also just so I don’t post two stories too close to each other, the FMK is delayed to Thursday :)

    Happy (belated) birthday to @scot-tf!


    Thanks to @grant-spiraltf for this great birthday story!

    Race Day (FtM)

    “Well, thanks for your time, and good luck with the race!” Laura concluded, smiling broadly at the two cyclists. She didn’t really have much interest in the sport, but the local news station she worked as a reporter for needed someone at short notice to cover the cycling race nearby, and she was the only one available.

    The two men smiled in return, and turned around to make their way to get ready for the race. As they walked away, Laura couldn’t help but stare at the impressive rear end vacuum-packed into the blue outfit of the English cyclist she’d been interviewing, Matt, as it bounced from side to side as he sauntered away. After a few seconds, she looked away and shook her head. She had a boyfriend now after all, she couldn’t keep looking at guys like this anymore.

    The cameraman, Andy, snapped her out of her trance-like state by announcing, “Alright, so now we should head over to the track so we can get in position to cover the race.” Laura agreed, and the pair of them walked for roughly ten minutes to get to the press area by the side of the track, where several cyclists had already gathered and some other journalists were waiting with their cameras, looking rather unimpressed. As she waited for Andy to set up his camera again, one of the other reporters approached her and said, “Don’t bother rushing, apparently one of the racers has disappeared off somewhere. That Matthew bloke.” Laura was a little taken aback, but after talking to a few other journalists and event organisers, none of whom knew where he was, decided to take it upon herself to try and find him.

    She left her microphone with Andy as he continued to set up the camera, and headed away from the crowds to the small car park which housed the trailers which the cyclists used as changing rooms. She found the one which had Matt’s name written on the door, and knocked. Not getting a response, she tried the handle, which was apparently unlocked as she managed to swing the door open. Scanning the room, Matt was nowhere to be seen. However, she did notice one odd thing. On the grey couch at the side of the room, the clothes which Matt had been wearing during the interview were spread and wrinkled and - oddest of all - were totally covered inside and out in a strange peach-coloured goop.

    Puzzled, Laura stepped closer and crouched down to get a closer look at it. Those were definitely his clothes, and the distribution of the goop was vaguely human-shaped, with most of it seemingly pooled inside the skinsuit, and with clumps at the head and arm openings of the suit, as well as two long clumps roughly connecting the legs of the suit and his shoes. She murmured, “What the fuck...” to herself, and after a few seconds of deliberation gingerly poked her finger into the goo, surprised at the viscosity and stickiness of it. When she tried to retreat her hand away, her eyes widened as the goop stayed wrapped around her finger and formed a firm string between it and the pile. She tried to shake it off, but in response the goop shot up onto her hand, and started crawling up her arm. She shrieked to no avail, as the entire pool of goop around the suit slid underneath her clothes, feeling like a slightly warm slime.

    Laura’s heart racing, the movement of the goop slowed a little as it reached the top of her arms, as she noticed something going on. With all of goop from the couch now on her body, the part that covered her hands had gained a skin-like texture and tightly pulled itself around them, so that it seemed as if the goop actually was her hands. However, they were different from her normal hands: bigger for one, and her fingers seemed thicker. A similar thing had happened to her forearms, going from slim and dainty to thick with veins slightly visible under her skin, and her upper arms as the goop flowed onto her torso. The goop pulled itself tightly around her biceps, with more of the substance moving into the area to build onto it like clay, leaving her with firm muscle once the goop settled. Laura wasn’t particularly... opposed to whatever what going on with her body, more just, well, confused.

    The goop continued to slip under her dress onto her chest, and she felt her breasts become totally covered. She was forced to let out a groan as the goop firmly pushed them into her chest, flattening them completely and seemingly absorbing them into the goop. In their place, she found the goop piling itself onto her as with her biceps to grow her two pillowy pectorals, almost as big as what was there before, and with two surprisingly pointed nipples to adorn them - stretching the fabric of her dress, along with her shoulders which had also had some mass added to them.

    The goop then moved in both directions across her body, with one part going down and swallowing up her abdomen, widening her midsection with goop being piled onto her waist, and firming up her stomach, leaving her with a faint trace of a six-pack, covered by a very light layer of fat. While this was happening however, the goop was also quickly heading up Laura’s neck, thickening it a little on its journey. She was about to let out a scream, before the goop slid up her face and dove into her mouth and nostrils, and completely covered her eyes. With it sliding down her throat, she found herself blinded and unable to breathe for several seconds as she felt the goop’s movement stop at the top of her head. Once her mouth was cleared and her vision was restored she gasped for air loudly, clumsily pawing at her face with her manly hands and looking around the room for a mirror.

    As she jogged to the mirror, she could feel that her face was certainly shaped and textured differently, and her long blonde locks no longer fell over her chest. Reaching the mirror, she realised that her face was that of an entirely different person. First off, this was the face of a man, clearly. She had a wider and firmer jaw, and her long blonde hair had disappeared somewhere only to be replaced with a head of short brown hair. Her nose was wider and her nostrils more flared, and the tip of her nose had taken on a red tinge. However, one thing become quickly apparent to her - this was Matt’s face. She was turning into Matt.

    This was further backed up as the goop descended to her hips, and coated her ass generously. Trying to look around to watch, she watched as it swelled up further and further, until the back of her already-strained dress was pushed out by the unmistakable bubble butt belonging to Matt which she had been staring at just a short while prior. Her mouth gaped at the sight of it, and her first reaction was to reach a meaty hand around and give it a squeeze - wow. If that was even possible, that felt better than she expected. As terrifying as this change was, that was one part she really appreciated.

    In contrast, the next area the goop covered brought on the changes that Laura was the most scared about. She shivered as it covered her clitoris and moulded it underneath her dress with piles of the goop, shaping it like a clay vase thicker and longer, becoming more phallic and firm as it grew. While this was happening, her labia reshaped itself into a scrotum with two decently-sized testicles appearing within. By now, her dress was tented by what was very much a penis, which had reached an above-average - she guessed - length, and a hefty girth, definitely bigger than her boyfriend’s, at least. She tenderly gave it a couple of strokes through the fabric, and gasped at the fantastic sensation she felt from this new part of her body. However, she decided not to go all the way with it just yet.

    The final stages of her changes started as the goop began to pile itself onto her slim thighs. Judging from what she’d seen of Matt earlier, these legs were going to be something to behold, and she was certainly not wrong. Her quads continued to swell up further and further, and as they finally settled to their new size, Laura’s eyes widened. She hadn’t had time to appreciate them when she first saw Matt, but now she realised that these were probably the biggest legs she’d ever seen on anyone - never mind herself! The goop continued onto her calves, expanding them to similar extents to her thighs and making her legs as a whole look more well-proportioned. Finally, the last dregs of the goop covered her feet, expanding them several sizes to what she’d expect for this new body.

    Laura stared at herself - or rather, Matt’s self - up and down in the mirror and tried to get to grips with the situation. One thing that stood out was how poorly her dress, ripped in several places, fit her new body. Testing her strength, she managed to totally tear off the dress with her hands, triumphantly throwing it on the floor, and after managing to squeeze herself out of her underwear found herself naked in the mirror. She flexed a bicep in the mirror, and grinned to herself, laughing, “Maybe I could get used to this,” before covering her mouth. Woah. She was not expecting to sound like that. Her voice was deeper, naturally, and now had Matt’s charming accent.

    After a couple more minutes of checking herself out in the mirror and giving herself a squeeze here and there, Laura realised that she’d probably have to turn up and pretend to be Matt so the organisers wouldn’t think that he’d gone missing. Scanning the room for something to wear, her eyes settled on Matt’s previous outfit that’d been covered in the goop, which was now miraculously clean, as if it had never even been there. She grabbed the shorts, stepping into them, and wriggled them up her legs until they were wrapped around her monster thighs as tightly as possible, managing to tuck her now-calmed cock into them. She pulled the shorts’ straps over her shoulders, before managing to pull the event jersey over her shoulders, zipping the front up and pulling the sleeves up until her biceps were snugly covered. She then strapped on the shoes and pulled on the gloves, before putting on the sunglasses and strapping in her helmet to prepare for the race. Laura checked herself out in the room’s mirror one last time, before heading off to the race.

    Now, she wasn’t totally sure how she’d actually be able to do this race, considering she hadn’t been near a bike since she was a child. On the other hand, she also had vague recollections of participating in many cycling racing throughout her life. These conflicting memories confused her, unable to tell which was the truth, but as long as she could get through this race she’d be fine. As she walked across the car park towards the arena, she felt more and more confident about her ability to participate in the race successfully, remembering details about some of her competitors even. However, she did find even walking in this body a struggle, the size of her legs forcing her into more of a waddle, so she didn’t really know how she could expect to do well cycling. Also - how was her boyfriend going to react? She wasn’t sure she could even go back to him like this, and after all, didn’t she have a girlfriend back home in England? That didn’t sound right - did it?

    A few minutes later, she had made her way to the starting line at the track, after being shouted at by a couple of the organisers for disappearing out of nowhere. She did retort back to them, something she’d never really done before, but otherwise didn’t make a fuss. She noticed the cameraman on his own, looking slightly worried - what was his name, Aaron? - but now she was focussed on trying to win this race. She was still nervous about it, of course, but she felt this newfound adrenaline and cockiness - had remembered how to actually cycle! The referee shot the starting gun, and Laura sped along the track with the other racers. Not that she was focusing on them, anyway, but she managed to overtake them one by one.

    After a few minutes of intense physical activity, Laura crossed the finish line in a respectable second, which she was more than happy with! She smacked her firm chest with her hands, before spreading her arms apart, basking in the (albeit fairly small) crowd’s cheers. At that moment, she felt that this future life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

    Scottish Treat

    “Hey, Collins, come over here for a moment.”

    Football practice had just ended, with all the members of the team sweaty and changing in the locker room. With the numbers of the team slowly increasing thanks to Mark’s master plan, practices had slowly become more and more efficient. Coach Sorenson had loved the new numbers, for the work on the field was just as great as their work on their knees. With all the new team members, and Coach’s always heavy balls, there was always a member of the team who would lend a helping hand.

    Cole Collins was the best example of “strong and silent.” Although he was powerful, he usually tried to avoid making a scene. Cole was a physical Adonis, but his personality seemed quiet and almost shy. He was about to finish undressing when Coach called him in. Although not completely undressed, Cole knew he had to obey orders. Plus, Coach had seen him wear much less than a wife beater and jockstrap many times before, and sometimes nothing. Although Cole was comfortable with himself, he was still nervous about what Coach may have wanted him for.

    “Don’t look so frightened,” Coach chuckled as Cole approached, patting his beefy hand on Cole’s back, “I just got a favor to ask.”

    Cole lightened up a bit. Cole wasn’t really afraid of Coach, but Coach’s physique was certainly intimidating. Cole got comfortable, scratching the hair on his chest with the paw he called his right hand and beginning to grope himself with the paw he called his left. Coach Sorenson was always an exciting sight to see.

    “So,” Coach began, “you haven’t recruited anybody yet, am I correct?”

    “Yes sir,” Cole responded back quietly.

    “Now I know Mark wants you to choose someone yourself, but I need you to get someone for me. I have a little experiment for you.” Coach explained the situation to Cole, telling him about the student and further explaining the favor. Coach’s whispers were barely audible, but Cole got every word. As soon as they were finished, Cole nodded and walked out.

    “Think you can handle it?” Coach Sorenson called from behind. Cole responded with a simple thumbs up as he walked away.


    Cole lurked around a tree, noticing his target sitting on top of a pile of rocks. The student studied alone, with the rest of the park empty. The student, Ben, was almost as quiet as Cole himself, but was much more meek. He was small, with a height barely under average, but he was a nice kid overall. Ben was always willing to help anybody, may it be with studies or a simple request.

    As Ben sat with the textbook in his lap, Cole slowly crept behind him. Although his body was immense, his agility made sure he could stay quiet even as his large feet carried him across the uneven stones. Eventually, he got to the right behind where Ben sat. After looking around to confirm no one else was in sight, Cole slowly took off his shoe and grabbed a small cologne bottle from his pocket titled “HEIR-SC.” As soon as Cole was in position, he grabbed Ben and pushed him behind a rock, making sure he was out of sight.

    Ben squealed out of fear as he was hurled behind the rock he was sitting on. He tried to resist his captor, but the jock already had his hands pinned down. Ben opened his mouth to shout something, but instead was met with a heavy spray from the cologne bottle the jock had been carrying. Ben closed his mouth, trying to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth. It tasted like soap, sweat, and… scottish whiskey? Ben was so confused by the cologne in his mouth that he hadn’t even realized his captor had let go of him and had started spraying the cologne all over. The scent of the cologne began swirling around Ben, dulling his mind and clouding his thought processes. Ben tried to get up, but instead decided to just stay down and relax.

    As Cole saw Ben begin to numb out, the jock slowly removed his clothing, stripping him from his polo and khaki shorts. He threw the soon-to-be former nerd’s boat shoes behind another rock, and ripped off the sad boxer shorts to reveal the skinny, naked body of Ben. Cole felt pity for the little guy, but knew he would become a beast in a few minutes. Cole took the last bit of the cologne and - after peeling off his tight shirt - sprayed it in his right armpit, the juices sinking into his dark hairs before resting it on the confused student’s face.

    “Sniff it,” Cole growled, and Ben obeyed.

    As Ben sniffed, Cole watched his body expand slowly. He first noticed Ben’s calves, which plumped and grew longer, looking perfect for running and tackling. Next, his quads beefed up too, his thighs expanding with pounds of meat. His legs stretched out along with his chest, making the little shrimp stretch to a whopping 6’5”, easily making him the tallest member of the team. Next, Ben’s chest began to fill out, with abs popping in one by one. After the 8 pack appeared, two hearty pecs placed themselves on top. Once Ben’s chest had filled out, Cole noticed that Ben’s transformation had suddenly come to a halt. Cole thought for a moment - something he did rarely - and came up with an idea.

    “Lick,” Cole commanded, “the scent may be gone but the juices are still there.”

    Ben began to eagerly lick, the cologne still clouding his mind. The taste of scottish whiskey quickly filled Ben’s mouth again as the transformation spurred back to life. Ben’s arms began to quickly plump out, his triceps and biceps expanding with muscle. In less than a minute, Ben had quickly gained arms that were the size of basketballs: something that would have taken any man years to gain, but seconds to appreciate. Ben’s fragile hands expanded as they grew meaty, with veins snaking themselves across his wrists and forearms. Next was Ben’s butt, which slowly raised his body higher off of the crooked rocks. Ben’s butt firmed up, with the two blocks of flesh becoming as soft as pillows. Ben’s body might have lured people in before, but now everyone would want a piece of his cheeks. Following right after were Ben’s delicate feet. They began to swell, his toes slowly pushing themselves farther away from Cole. As his feet got meatier, small veins began to appear on top, making Ben truly look more masculine. His feet had now become a gargantuan Size 15, a size previously only reached by Mark.

    As the transformation began to slow again, Cole pushed his armpit deeper into Ben’s face, making sure Ben would get every drop of cologne before going on the second part. Ben’s neck began to fill out, and with it a huge Adam’s apple began to push forwards. The former nerd’s moans began to deepen as he dropped from a tenor to an extremely low bass. Next, Ben’s head began to grow bigger as his hair began to style itself differently, taking on a fiery, red hue instead of the boring black. The change in hair color surprised Cole, he’d have to report this to Coach. Then, Ben’s nose became bigger and longer, and his lips fuller. His eyebrows became a little darker as his ears pushed away from his head.

    “And now, the hair,” Cole muttered to himself.

    Except, nothing came. Instead, all the hair that was once on Ben’s body nearly disappeared. The only hair that remained was on his head, the thick, luscious red beard, and the fiery bushes in Ben’s armpits and around his below-average cock. Cole also noticed Ben’s skin tone lighten dramatically, looking almost pale, but still healthy. Ben would have to report both the absence of hair and skin tone to Coach as side effects of the experiment.

    Cole lifted himself off of Ben, who was still a little clouded but was beginning to pull himself out. Before Ben could completely resettle, Cole placed his shoe on top of Ben’s nose and blocked his mouth, making sure he could only breathe from the one entrance. Ben, still confused over the whole ordeal, began to sniff Cole’s shoe obediently. The other half of Coach’s experiment was in Cole’s massive shoe: A plaid scented shoe sole that also reeked of scottish whiskey.

    As Ben sniffed away, he felt his memories of his past slowly drain themselves into his enlarging testicles. Memories of a lonely childhood, constant studying, and prepping for a life as a neurosurgeon were replaced by memories of men in kilts, learning the bagpipes, and growing up in the rural greenlands near the ocean cliffs. Ben’s memories of of being intelligent were pushed away, being replaced with a new, better history of him playing rugby throughout his high school and being offered the chance to play on an American college football team in the States. His grades hadn’t sold him, but his physique and rough personality had. His personality had also lured him to the best frat house, where he met tons of new bros to hang with.

    Cole watched as the large man beside him continued to sniff the shoe. Cole reached for the new jock’s hardening member, which had already grown three inches and was still going. The red-head began to moan as Cole steadily pumped him along. Ben’s balls began to ache and the more memories were replaced. His heterosexual qualities leaked into his massive pouch, being replaced with memories of gay sex with many different bros, but mostly with his boyfriend, Cole. A Scottish accent had officially grinded itself into Ben’s head, along with an outgoing personality to contrast his partner’s. Ben began to remember the countless frat parties and outings with his bros, who he became immediately popular with do to being a foreign exchange student. He wouldn’t be foreign for much longer though, because he and Cole would be tying the knot after they graduated.

    Cole smiled as he saw Ben’s cock reach a maximum at 10 whole inches. Ben’s last bits of intelligence began to drain into his massive balls, leaving his mind permanently slow. Instead of his previously nerdy self, his thoughts would now always be trying to push through molasses. Cole, still fondling Ben’s pouch, leaned over and whispered into Ben’s ear quietly, finally pushing him over the edge.


    Ben’s body lurched up as a white fountain bursted from the rocks. The last of Ben disappeared into the cracks of the earth, soaked into the dirt beneath the stones. The IQ of the jock was 79, lurking just above complete stupidity. The new Scot pushed himself up and immediately kissed Cole. The scent of scottish whiskey and the Heir cologne swelled around both of them, along with the new musky scent of Brodie. They both made out passionately, before slowly breaking apart.

    “Aren’t ya a bonnie lad?” Brodie said, smiling at Cole, “I would go taps off, but I need me shirt.”

    “Of course,” Cole responded, “but before that, can you answer a question for me?”


    “Are you missing anything?”

    Brodie thought to himself for a moment, and then a moment became a minute, and a minute became minutes. After about three minutes, Brodie finally perked up and thought of an answer.

    “Ah’m no missing anything when I’m with me braw! Now hand me the clothes before ah wank my bawsack!” Brodie guffawed at his own joke as he grabbed the clothes from Cole, which included a pair of too small blue shorts and a red wife beater. Brodie had long since forgotten underwear, deciding at 15 that he’d stop wearing them to the the messes he make from his precum. Instead, he always wore shorts that wouldn’t stain from his constant leaking.

    Brodie slowly got the shorts on over his massive cock, the material straining to contain his large member.

    Next came his shirt, but before he put in on he decided to take a sniff at his pits.

    “Hmmm,” he moaned, “these oxters are boggin’. Cologne’s already off.”

    Brodie then took a seat on the rocks, waiting for Cole, who was wrapping a sweatshirt around his waist to hide the stain at his crotch.

    “Ready, laddie?”

    Cole nodded meekly, the presence of the Scottish alpha in front of him made him feel small.

    After grabbing his impossibly large flip-flops from Cole, Brodie began to walk off the rocks and down the stairs back towards their shared room in the frat house.

    Cole got up and thought to himself again, realizing that Coach’s experiment was successful. Coach had been trying to find a way to get foreign members to the team without taking from the already small foreign exchange student population. The prototype - Heir-SC - had not only successfully created another jock, but also had made him assume a new nationality as well. The only side effects: not much body hair and incredibly dumb - but Cole loved how dim-witted Brodie had become, so he wouldn’t tell Coach.

    “Come on, laddie!” Brodie yelled, not even bothering to turn around, “Aye still got more to chug on me knot, ya buftie!”

    Brodie ripped off his shirt and threw it back to his boyfriend. Cody’s dick lurched in excitement as he took a deep whiff of the shirt while silmiltaneously watching Brodie’s huge bubble butt bouncing with each step. Cody was ecstatic for the Scottish treat he’d be receiving tonight.

    Hungry? Damon just couldn’t seem to stop eating. When he’d ordered the burger he thought there’s no way in hell he could eat it but. within a few bites he was still hungry. If anything he almost felt hungrier. For some reason the burger wasn’t filling him up. But he couldn’t understand why. He loved the taste but it just wasn’t filling. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his shirt start straining against his chest and shoulders. The top button had already come undone while the next was pretty damn close. “Damn this is good….” he moaned taking another bite.

    He didn’t notice his hands grow bigger as he ate away at his burger. Thick fingers dug into the bun and he shoveled another bite into his mouth. His bicep flexing as he bent his arm, bring his sleeve to a near breaking point. Bits of bread and cheese getting stuck on the beard that had grown out form his stubble.

    Looking down confused he took another bite. The table seemed futher away but he grabbed some fries anyway. He rocked back and forth in the chair as his added weight made it a little less even while his longer thicker legs pushed him a little further back into it. The grease form the burger caught in his beard and dripped down. He wiped it with his hairy forearm and just kept eating.

    Normally eating would push your belly out, but with each swallow, Damon’s abs pulled in tighter, until he had a firm and strong core that pushed him to sit up straighter. His ass did inflate though, filling out the back of his shorts, while his thighs began to strain the legs of his shorts. Just below them his calves rounded out and his shoes grew tight around his feet.

    He naturally seperated them a little more. The part between them was rapidly loosing room while also growing bigger. He took another bite filling his entire mouthg. He couldn’t help but keep eating. The food was just so good he had to have more. He could feel his feet pushing up against his shoes but didn’t mind. He knew they were too small anyway.

    He let out another satisfied moan, it was deep and gravelly, a real manly man’s voice. His chewing felt weird as his jaw began to rearrange into a more masculine visage with a wider jaw and higher cheekbones. His eyes grew more deepset in his head and turned a dark, but warm brown.

    “Damn that’s good,” he grunted finishing off the burger. His big hands went to his mouth to lick his fingers clean of the remaining grease. He now felt completely satisfied by that meal. “Don’t know why I thought it wasn’t going to be enough,” he ran his fingers over his abs feeling their dense muscle tighten.

    The Summer Is Magic - Black

    @bizzhideaway woke up from a deep slumber with a ringing in his head. The last thing he remembered was his room suddenly going dark and slipping on a discarded piece of underwear. His body hit the floor with a thump, and the last thing he felt was a pair of strong arms slide under his chest and knees, lift him up and carry him outside. Still half asleep, he tried to stretch because they were feeling a little stiff, but when he tried to move his limbs, he found them not budging. His eyes flew open and he looked around.

    The room was semi well-lit by some torches and there were four pillars, with chains coming out of them, tying Bizz up spread eagle with his hands attached to the pillars and his feet chained to the ground. It was at this point that he realised two things, he was both naked and not alone. Between the other two pillars, a familiar face was visible. “Good to see that you’re awake. All I remember was some black ball ‘entering me’, then I was lifting you up and then I woke up here.” Bizz was flabberghasted. “You’re Michael B Jordan!” Michael sighed. “Perhaps that’s not the important part here? But yes, you can get autographs later. But now we have to focus on getting out of here and not on my dick.” Bizz quickly and shamefully turned his gaze to the gorgeous face. “Sooo, any idea of how we’re getting out of here Michael?”

    At that moment, Michael groaned in pain. “What’s wrong?” He threw his head back. “Fuck! No idea, but these chains burn like hell!” Michael tried to break free, but you notice that the chain around his left arm has a little black goop on it. “Try the upper left chain? It has something on it so perhaps it’s weaker!” Michael looked at you and up at the chain until he finally sees what Bizz meant. “No idea what that is, kinda looks like oil?” He gives one hard tug, but it doesn’t break. Instead, it starts dripping down the chain, heading for his arm fast. With a bunch of curses, Michael tried to escape by tugging more, but all that accomplished was that the goop was now accelerating. With one last tug, the chain finally broke but sadly for Michael, the goop already reached his wrist and vanished with a shimmer. “What the fuck?”

    Bizz looked at the actor and he looked back at him, both unsure of what was happening. A few seconds later, Michael’s eyes started rolling into the back of his head and his cock hardened in record speed. Although it was quite disturbing, Bizz was aroused by the 11-inch fuckstick that hit Michael’s rockhard abs and left a little precum there. His arm became limp and Michael looked near dead if he wasn’t panting and throbbing. “…Michael? Are you… okay?” He answered with a grunt and a nod of his head towards Bizz’s right arm. Before Bizz could divert his gaze from the hunk however, he felt an intrusion in his brain. His eyes rolled back and his cock stiffened to a semi-erection. He lowered his head so he could see Michael again, and he was just in time to see his free hand wrap around his cock and stroke it mechanically. Through the chain around his right arm, white fluid trailed out of his arm, over the chain and into the pillar.

    At the same time, Bizz saw the same fluid trail from his left arm and he felt a little woozy. The chain around his right arm vanished and the arm immediately grabbed for his cock, stroking it to its full 9 inches of glory. With more liquid oozing out of him through the chains, Bizz felt his consciousness fleeting once more and when he glanced over at Michael, he saw the flow had stopped and that he was just blankly stroking. With one last moan, Bizz felt the last part of his mind get sucked out and leave through the chain. Via the chains between the pillars, the liquids changed sides with Michael’s juice trailing towards Bizz’s old body via the same chain that administered the black juice. Sadly on Michael’s side, Bizz’s juice had no way of getting to the body since the chain broke in Michael’s attempt to escape, causing his juice to stay stored in the pillar. When the final drop of the pearly substance entered Bizz, his abs contracted and he started shooting his cum mixed with some of the black goo. When the orgasm died down, life returned to his body and the chains vanished into thin air, dropping him to the floor.

    “What just happened…” Michael looked around and noticed his own body, still chained up and edging. “Wait, if that’s me, then I am…” He looked down at his new arms and rubbed his pecs while moaning. “Fuckkkk…” He stood up and flexed his new muscles. “Not as hard as my old body, but I can work with this.” He looked back at his deserted husk which is still stroking and he notices the broken chain. He quickly dashed towards the pillar and with the chain in one hand and the other pressed against the stone, he conducted the spirit towards his new body. While Bizz passed through his old body, he found the chance to heighten some of his pleasure points as a “thank you” to Michael which was met with squirts of precum and an ear-deafening moan.

    Bizz opened his new eyes and came within seconds. His chains evaporated and he kissed his old body hard. A hidden door opened and some clothes were tossed inside. They quickly got dressed and headed for the door, which revealed a long flight of stairs. As they made their way out, their minds started merging, allowing them to communicate and feel whatever the other felt from anywhere on the world. The stairs led to another door. With one last kiss, they opened the door and found themselves in a huge store, with shelves as far as the eye could see. Even though they were intrigued to browse, they knew better and ran for the exit, the door closing softly behind them. A man in a tuxedo sighed behind the counter. “Glad that went well, I need to focus more next time.” He then lifted up a vial of white liquid. “Although, can’t really say that there’s a negative outcome here.”


    RE: The Craftsman

    Hey folks,

    Some sad news on the way. I’ve just had a conversation with my good friend The Craftsman and learned that he has elected to stop writing transformation fiction and as such has deleted his blogs. 

    A number of his stories will still be able to read via reblogs on the blogs of various TF fans (my “private” account @henrycavbsc has a number for example) if you want to revisit some of your favourite Craftsman classics.

    Let’s all wish The Craftsman luck on his next creative venture and hope he resurfaces again in the future to delight us with his amazing writing talents!


    UPDATE:Heads up folks I’ve just received a message from The Craftsman and he’s asked me to inform you all that while he no longer has any transformation-related blogs nor is he currently planning to write any more transformation stories (aka please don’t ask him to, respect his choices!), he does have a general tumblr blog that he’s more than happy for you to follow him on if you’d like to keep in contact.

    You can find good old Crafty at @wordcrxft - go give him some love! 

    Perfect Ten

    Secret Santa for @santaclaraproject! Not really Christmas themed at all, but consider this my Christmas special regardless ;)

    Allen needed to get into shape. He’d been putting it off for so long now, but now he was going to take action. He signed up for a membership with his local fitness centre, and was going to start swimming at its pool before work every day. Once he arrived for the first time with his towel and goggles in hand, he walked into the disgustingly yellow changing rooms and came to a realisation. He’d completely forgotten his shorts. Sighing, he turned around to head back home, when he noticed something on one of the benches - a pair of swimming trunks! Okay, just using some random’s shorts was kind of gross, but he was really dedicated to starting this habit. Fuck it, he’d have to put up with it for today. He looked around nervously, before snatching them and ducking into one of the changing rooms. Once he’d removed his clothes and slid on the trunks, he realised that they were pretty baggy on him, but he shrugged it off and walked towards the poolside. After all, if he was going to actually try to make an effort for this, he couldn’t just go home straight away!

    Allen pulled the goggles onto his head and approached the pool - it was totally dead thanks to arriving so early in the morning, and he noticed one thing in particular. The diving board was free! He’d always wanted to try it out, but there was either a ridiculous queue, or there were far too many people around for him to not be scared of making a fool of himself. But now, he had free reign. He pulled himself up the ladder, and gingerly walked to the end, where it dawned upon him that he didn’t actually really know what he was doing. Should he just bounce and then... jump off? Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen. As he bounced over the edge, he tried to get into a more aerodynamic position in the few seconds he had before plunging into the pool, and then... smack. He must have passed out for a moment, because when he recovered from his daze, he’d surfaced and was treading water. His vision was blurred and his hearing muffled, but he could make out... clapping? Once his eyes adjusted a bit more, he saw that on either side of the pool were several rows of seats filled with people clapping and cheering, and in front was a panel of people clapping also. In addition to his heavy and slowed movement, which he could only put down to tiredness, he felt like he was dreaming or something. Regardless, Allen swam to the side of the seemingly larger pool, finding that the previously baggy shorts he had borrowed felt perfectly comfortable now. As he reached the side of the pool with the panel, he lifted himself out with newfound upper body strength, and an excitable man thrust a microphone in front of him, and started blabbering in a language unfamiliar to Allen. Russian? Ukrainian? He had no clue.

    However, his eyes drifted away to scan the scene around him, noticing a huge TV screen showing a stocky, well-built man dripping with water, wearing only a red swimsuit - the same one that Allen had picked up in that changing room. As he scratched his itchy chin, the man mirrored his actions. The truth started to dawn on him as he realised that the microphone in front of the man’s mouth was the same that was in front of his own - the man... was him? He noticed that the microphone-man had stopped talking and looked at him expectedly. Unsure how to respond, he simply shrugged and muttered, “I-I don’t know,” which prompted the audience and microphone-man to laugh heartily. Hold on, he didn’t say what he meant to - he said it in the foreign language. The man started talking again, but Allen found himself being able to pick out a few words, he was talking about a fantastic dive or something along those line. However, he found his eyes drifting back to the screen, which panned up the legs of the man - his own legs, his thick, tree trunk-like legs stuffed to the brim with muscle.


    While still engaging in small talk with the apparent presenter of a TV show, now in fluent Russian, Allen watched his crotch come into view on the screen, with his seemingly expanded cock bouncing from side to side in those tight red shorts. A low ‘woo’ sound emerged from the audience at this view, which caused the presenter to remark about his ‘package’ with a chuckle. Allen gestured towards his shorts, and laughed, “I guess this new outfit shows it off better,” in his new foreign tongue.


    The camera then switched to a new angle of him from behind, which prompted an outright cheer from the audience, as Allen’s new firm, thick ass was shown on screen, barely contained by his shorts. An elderly woman on the panel cried, “Он красивый!” to raucous laughter from the rest of the panel and audience. Allen grinned, and the presenter exclaimed, “Looks like someone does his squats!”


    Next, the screen started to pan up Allen’s chest - or was it Alexei? To be quite honest, he couldn’t really remember. Either way, he stared at his abs - although they weren’t particularly defined, it was clear to see that they were still muscular. His pecs were firm and perfectly smooth, moreso than he ever could have dreamed of previously. Now almost completely draining out the sound of the crowd, Alexei admired his veiny and hefty arms, clearly the result of many hours well-spent in the gym.


    Finally, the camera focussed on Alexei’s face. The presenter paused expectedly, so, still dazed, he started rambling on about his workout routine, while he admired his handsome visage. His facial structure made him look masculine and mature, and his firm jaw was lightly coated in a light-brown beard. He thought to himself about how his smouldering eyes could seduce anyone with just a glance, which made him grin while he spoke. God, he was one fine specimen.


    After a couple more minutes of rattling off ways of working out his quads, the presenter finally managed to wrestle the mic off of Alexei. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it. Alexei Petrov, the nation’s sweetheart. Judges, may we have your scores for Alexei’s dive?” Naturally, all five members of the panel lifted up a card reading simply ‘10′, to the pleasure of the audience, and the presenter announced, “Congratulations Alexei, you are tonight’s winner by the biggest margin in our show’s history!” to which he simply smiled and nodded, his mind already pre-occupied with dozens of ideas for what to do with this new body and life.