Transformetics

by Dasilva

When a hunky vendor from a well-known beauty product scam comes to his local flea market, Cody can’t help but buy into it. But what if this scam isn’t really a scam?

The Piazza is an upscale flea market in my town, frequented by young professionals, bored teenagers with wealthy parents, and the health-conscious. While there are a few permanent establishments at the Piazza, like the smoothie shop I co-own and manage with my business partner Chris, most of the vendors are simply traveling salespeople passing on the newest clothing, jewelry, and beauty products at a wholesaler’s discount.

Sometimes in the morning, while Chris is looking over the smoothie shop, I walk around the market to see if anything catches my eye. Usually nothing really does, but one particular morning, a particular vendor came to the Piazza with a line of cosmetics that would change everything.

Change everything. Change everything about you. Change everything to become your perfect self. The gorgeous, generously-muscled vendor emphasized those words in his Transformetics sales pitch. “You’re fucking kidding, right?” I coolly replied.

“Not at all,” he replied, digging into his pockets. Pulling out a picture, he claimed, “This was me just four months ago.” I stared at the picture, portraying a man who looked nothing like the stud talking to me. The photograph showed acne, blotches, a bigger nose, a rounded jawline. The man’s sleeves orbited his pencil-thin arms. “Transformetics sent me a limited-time tester set with a few of their products out of the blue one day. Forty-eight hours later, I went from this,” pointing to the picture, “to this,” gesturing towards the tank top the showed off his basketball-sized shoulders, his deliciously-cut biceps, his big-yet-masculine pecs.

I looked down at myself for a moment, just to compare. Sure enough, underneath my clothing, I saw the same flat board of a torso that had attached my lanky limbs to my six-foot-five body. Nothing impressive. If anything, it was borderline awkward to be this tall with no definition or mass anywhere. My face was no better. I wasn’t repulsive, but my teeth were crooked from not wearing my retainer, I was beginning to see a bald patch despite only being in my late twenties, and I had acne scars still left over.

“Alright, you got me on board if you name the right price. Show me what you got.”

“Without sounding too bold, I really have anything you want. It depends on what changes you want to make to yourself.”

I pondered the thought a moment, prioritizing the changes I wanted to make.

“It might be strange, but I think I’d like to shrink my height down a bit. Maybe to five-eleven or so.”

The vendor nodded, turned, and pulled out a lavender-colored sample tester from his trunk.

“I want to make my teeth perfect again, as well as fix up my complexion and even tan it a bit.”

He pulled out a toothpaste tube and a single towelette packet.

Continuing on with my wishlist, “A more athletic body would be nice, like yours. Big pecs, biceps, and shoulders especially.”

A red, orange, and yellow tester each came into play, as well as a big bottle of orange soap.

“I want to get rid of this bald spot. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I always thought I’d look hotter with jet-black straight hair. This mud brown has never looked good on anyone. And... I think that’s all.”

A green bottle of shampoo and a blue bottle of conditioner made an appearance, as well as one more tester, a black one.

He started, “Let me explain these products to you. This orange soap, it’s a muscle enhancer. Rub it all over your body, including your neck, while you’re in the shower. Stand out of the water for thirty seconds, then rinse it off. The tester lotions are for the specific muscle groups you’ve mentioned. Red for the pecs, orange for the arms, and yellow for the deltoids. When your skin is dry, apply the lotion to the appropriate area and rub it in thoroughly. The lavender will knock off a few inches of height for you. Don’t wipe it off, that will only decrease its effectiveness.

“The toothpaste is for your teeth, that’s self-explanatory. The face wipe will take care of any complexion issues and will also adjust your facial features to make you more attractive. The blue conditioner will restore your hair volume, and the green shampoo will change your hair to be the straight, jet black color that you’ve always wanted. Like the soap, leave it in for thirty seconds for the full effect.

“This black tester doesn’t cover any of the requests you’ve made, but between us gay men, there’s no way you’ll want to refuse this tester.” Wait—how’d he know I was gay? And did he just say he was gay too? “It’s a genital enhancer. It works the same as the other lotions, and increases size, girth, and fertility—not that that’s important.”

After that explanation, I quickly peeked at him below. My eyes bugged out. There was a huge-ass zucchini shoved in his pants! If my average six-and-a-halfer could become that, or more, imagine how many more guys I could pick up!

We settled on twenty-five dollars for the set. A bit pricey for some demos, but given the clientele of the area, it’s what I’ve come to expect. As I brought my bag of Transformetics back to the smoothie shop, Chris’s face fell with concern.

“Oh, please don’t tell me those scammers got you too!”

“Huh?”

“Transformetics. I’ve heard about them. They hire the most natty hunks and have them push pastel-colored lotions onto self-conscious men and women with promises of physical transformation, and then book town before anyone can catch them. You didn’t even catch the guy’s name, did you?”

“No...”

“Point proven. Look, I’ll make you a bet. I’ll watch the shop for the next few hours. Go home and use the products. If they work, I’ll pay you a hundred bucks and give your new dick a good sucking.”

Oh, Chris. What a tease. He always knew I was crushing on him a bit.

“Deal.”

And so I found myself in my apartment’s bathroom fifteen minutes later, unpacking the Transformetics and loading them onto the counter. I gave my teeth a quick brush with the toothpaste, then hopped into the shower with the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. I followed all the directions, then got out and dried myself off. I used the towelette and the testers, giving each muscle a good massage. When it came time to use the black tester, I made sure to give that area an especially sensual massage. Okay, I might have jacked off. I definitely did. Wanted to make sure that tester got in there good.

I got dressed and waited a few minutes in front of the mirror. Nothing. Chris was right all along. I shrugged it off, trying not to be too upset. I was pretty damn pissed though. As a business owner, I should have known better than to be swindled like that.

Rather than go back to the shop right away, I decided to lay on the couch and watch TV for a bit, just to clear my head. At six-foot-five, I usually have to let my knees hang over the edge to fit comfortably. So I started to watch the program, feeling a bit lightheaded and airy. I thought nothing of it. About halfway through the episode, I suddenly needed to pee. I got up—that’s when I noticed it. I was shorter than the couch. I had lost about five inches in height.

I ran to the bathroom, and couldn’t get to the toilet quick enough. I dropped my pants and tensed up, but nothing came out. My heartbeat started getting louder, more intense. I quickly turned around to the full-length mirror behind me, knowing what was about to happen. I inhaled deep, exhaled heavy, and began to take in the growth.

It started with the neck, which in two heartbeats became a column of taut sinew. It looked ridiculous at first, but the growth soon went to my shoulders. They expanded, first becoming toned, then more muscular and globular. My arms were next in line. The biceps became softball-sized, each making a huge, mountainous peak with a single vein topping it. My triceps swelled up twice as huge, and began to rip through my formerly large t-shirt. Following that were my forearms, which thickened up and made my arms look even more massive.

Next were my pecs. They slowly went from concave, to even level with my stomach, to small bumps. After that, they rapidly blew up like balloons. They stopped after a few seconds, leaving behind extremely prominent, melon-sized chest muscles. Knowing what was next, I shucked the shirt. Too late. My abs were just finishing up, a pretty damn perfect eight pack of prominent washboard almost airbrushed on my stomach. Hot.

My waist expanded a few inches, from 28 to 31, and I thanked myself for removing my pants ahead of time. Moving downwards, my quads, hamstrings, and glutes all started rumbling under my skin, expanding nicely. They didn’t grow so much that I could see each individual muscle, just a good, toned bulk of flesh on each thigh with a deliciously rounded ass. I smacked it, feeling new strength with my meaty hands. Meanwhile, my calves took on some size, officially obliterating any sign of the chicken legs I used to have.

I checked out my face and nearly came. I had straight, short black hair, gelled up into the sexiest faux-hawk that only a professional stylist could do. My jawline had cut, defined lines. My acne scars—totally gone! My teeth—pearly white and straight! My eyes, once a boring brown, were now a tantalizing, sexy mixture of royal blue and deep purple. It even looked like I had a light tan, which my German genes would have never allowed before.

All the while, my pecs, shoulders, and biceps kept growing even more from the tester lotion. My back had expanded nicely to accommodate these muscles in particular. It was enormously wide, like a huge flared wall with striations everywhere. I felt my muscles jolt, and then settle. The growth had stopped. I was left with two spectacular, perfectly rounded pecs, jutting about four inches outward each, with golden-brown nipples erect and pointed downward. Stuck onto my arms were biceps slightly bigger than my triceps. I flexed, estimating its circumference around twenty, twenty-one inches, the bicep making about two-thirds of that measurement. Attaching these two glorious muscle groups together were my traps and shoulders, which had also grown to astounding proportions. My neck flared out perfectly into my shoulders, now rounded caps of sinew and bulk.

I wanted to cum so badly, precum was leaking down my pant leg. My pant leg! I shucked my pants as quickly as I could, although they were tight against my newly grown legs. My underwear came off, and as I looked over the hang of my pecs, I saw it. My cock. Eight inches soft. It didn’t stay soft for long, as it rose up past my abs and the cockhead hit my nipple ever so slightly. I swear it was at least fifteen inches hard, and definitely eight inches around. It stood up so tall it actually swung out of view under the overhang of my pecs, leaving me a chance to look at my balls. I was glad those got a good massage too, they were the size of plums, inside my slightly hairy sac.

I touched the cockhead, feeling the most intense sensation I had ever felt. More intense than all my years of masturbating an average-sized cock. Before moving on, I had an idea. Why not christen my new cock with something I had never tried before?

I returned to my couch, stark naked, and lied on my back. I rose my legs up and over, then picked my head up. Only two inches away was the mushroom-shaped, rose pink cockhead, with a large leaky piss slit to match. I licked it. I licked it again. I opened my mouth and began bobbing up and down on it. Even with all the hormones racing through me, I was able to last a good five minutes. It felt so good, knowing I could do what I wanted and what would make me get off. Finally, it was locked and loaded, ready to fire. I exploded into my own mouth, firing off at least twelve huge shots of creamy, salty cum. The volume was huge, as expected from having balls this size, but instead of a stomach bulge from all the cum I just devoured, my abs looked more defined than before. Perfect.

I sat up, closed my eyes, and reflected for a minute. Transformetics was supposed to be a scam. Yet here I was, transformed into my hottest, wettest dream in real life. I had the power to get any guy I wanted with a simple horny gaze and pec pop. The things I could do with this new body, they were limitless. The only question now: where do I begin?

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