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I dunno if I wanna be him or hang out with him and let him TF me into whatever he's in the mood for and do what takes his fancy.
(I do hand drawn TF art too! check it out at patreon.com/futobara)
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Please... don't make me any bigger.
...na I'm gonna make you bigger.
Oh GOD *Squirrrrge*
I make dudes bigger for a living on patreon, check out patreon.com/futobara if you're interested!
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...is it over? oh God, what's happened to me? My mouth tastes like doughnuts.
I take a lot of inspiration for my hand drawn TFs from my AI adventures. If you're interested in checking out my art art, you can find it at patreon.com/futobara)
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Hate fat stuffy businessmen do you? Try being one for a day, ya bum!
Check out my hand drawn actual art at patreon.com/futobara
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I'm obsessed with public restroom TFs.
I like drawing them too! (shameless patreon plug)
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Don't care what you used to be, you're now big baz from south London. You like beer, fry ups and footie.
(I love AI for exploring TF fantasies! I also love drawing transformation sequences, which I post at patreon.com/futobara)
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Jeremy used to be a lean fitness Tiktoker, until today when he stumbled across a TikTok on his “For You” page. The video flashed images of chubby men playing with their growing fat bodies, Jeremy tried to scroll away but the next video wouldn’t load. He was stuck watching the fat men play with their blubber, that’s when Jeremy felt the tingling in his nipples, his body became hot and sweaty. Quickly he stripped down to his underwear and hit record on his TikTok. He watched on the camera as his abs faded away, bloating into layer after layer of plush fat. His once toned and juicy pecs sagged and bloated into a set of moobs that sat right on top of his newly bloated belly. His thighs bulging against the the underwear, once meant for a lean muscular jock. His chin was no longer visible, covered by layers of fat, all definition in his face had been softened by the growth.
By the time Jeremy had finished his transformation, he was mortified by the soft pillowy fat that covered his once toned frame. What made it worse was that he absentmindedly sent the video of his transformation, knowing that many other men would succumb to his fat. His cock, now buried in a plush fat pad, hardened at the thought. Jeremey began to play with his blubbery body and his worries faded, a couple more videos like that couldn’t hurt, right?
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your transformation into a fat loudmouth berk climaxes as you unceremoniously nut your pants
(If you like non ai transformation art, i create hand drawn transformation art on patreon)
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Standing in front of the mirror, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It wasn't my face reflecting back at me, but my neighbor, Mr. Jenkins. A mix of shock and excitement surged through me as I realized that the body swapping potion had actually worked.
"Wow," I muttered to myself, my voice sounding oddly different in Mr. Jenkins' vocal cords. I reached up to adjust the glasses perched on my nose, feeling their weight and the slight discomfort they brought.
The beard, though, was the real nuisance. I scratched at it, feeling the prickly hairs against my skin. "Definitely going to take some getting used to," I said with a wry smile.
Taking a deep breath, I began to unbutton his shirt, and testing out Mr. Jenkins' body. I stretched my arms, feeling the muscles tense and relax under my touch. I twisted my torso from side to side, cracking my neck and feeling the satisfying release of tension.
With a smile I rubbed his chest. I set out towards the bathroom, ready to grow more accustomed to this body.
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your fattening back hits the wall with a sweaty SCHLUP as you feel your gut rapidly fill with flab in your quivering hand.
(Ai is fun! Hand drawn art is fun! I do both! If this kinda thing is your jam, please consider supporting me here or there at patreon.com/futobara)
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You come round in an empty classroom. As your brain tries to catch up to its new reality, you notice is the immense weight you carry. You can feel the tension of fat against your shirt, the pressure of sweaty rolls of flab pushed up into each other by your tight belt, the hot itch of wiry white facial hair. The musty smell of your cardigan...
Door bursts open, pulling you from your reverie, and the students start to pile in - your old self amongst them. Not that you remember. But he does. He flashes you a dark smirk and winks.
Young people these days, honestly. No respect. Oh well, six months until retirement!
If you like hand drawn TF stuff, check out my patreon.com/futobara)
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As I stood in my office, surrounded by cardboard boxes and memories, the weight of the situation settled heavily upon me. Being CEO of a company had been my dream, my passion, my identity. But now, as the company was being acquired and I was being let go.
I sighed deeply, running my hands through my hair as I began to pack up my belongings. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I was being replaced, that my vision for the company would no longer shape its future. Yet, there was nothing I could do but accept it and move on.
Just as I was folding a stack of papers into a box, there was a knock on the door. I straightened up, turning to see a representative from the acquiring company standing in the doorway.
"Richard," the representative began, stepping into the room with purpose. "I know this might seem unexpected, but we have an offer for you."
I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued despite myself. "An offer? What kind of offer?"
The representative hesitated for a moment before reaching behind him and producing a peculiar-looking suit. It was sleek and black, but the strangest thing about it was that it seemed to be deflated, as if it were made for a much larger person.
"We want you to still be the CEO, we want you to replace Mr. Becker," the representative said simply, holding out the suit towards me.
I blinked in confusion, my mind struggling to make sense of the situation. Replace Mr. Becker? But he was the one they had just hired to replace me. Why would they want me to replace him already?
Before I could voice my confusion, the representative continued, a hint of urgency in his tone. "We've been following your leadership for years, Richard. Your vision, your determination, your ability to inspire others—it's exactly what we need to lead our company into the future. But we need you to do it as Mr. Becker."
I stared at the suit in disbelief. But as I looked into the earnest eyes of the representative, something stirred within me. With a deep breath, I reached out and took the suit, feeling its weight in my hands.
As I slipped the suit over my shoulders, the fabric felt oddly supple, like a second skin eager to embrace its new host. I shivered as the material made contact with my body, sending a tingling sensation racing across my skin.
At first, it seemed as though nothing had changed. The suit hung loosely around me, its shape undisturbed by my presence. But then, slowly but surely, I felt a subtle shift begin to take place.
It started at my shoulders, where the fabric seemed to tighten, molding itself to the contours of my body with an almost imperceptible precision. As the seconds ticked by, I could feel the suit conforming to my frame, each seam and stitch aligning itself perfectly with my form.
A sense of warmth washed over me as the transformation continued, enveloping me in a cocoon of fabric that seemed to pulsate with life. It was as though the suit itself was alive, responding to some unseen force that guided its movements.
As I glanced down at my hands, I gasped in astonishment. My fingers, once familiar and ordinary, now seemed shorter and stubbier, the skin rough.
But it was my face that underwent the most dramatic transformation of all. As I pulled the mask over my features, I felt a strange sensation wash over me, as if my very essence were being reshaped and remolded.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the metamorphosis, and when I opened them again, I found myself staring back at the reflection of a stranger. It was Mr. Becker—or rather, it was me, transformed into the likeness of the man who would now be my identity.
My jaw slackened in wonder as I took in the sight before me. My features had hardened, and my hair—once unruly and unkempt—now gone and replaced with a bald scalp.
I blinked several times, trying to reconcile the image in the mirror with the person I had always known myself to be. But as I gazed upon my new reflection, a sense of determination welled up within me. I may have been wearing another man's face, but deep down, I was enjoying this.
With a steadying breath, I straightened my shoulders and the representative handed me a pair of wire frame glasses on my newly formed face. I was no longer Richard—I was Mr. Becker.
As I adjusted them on my face, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment, as if I were stepping into someone else's shoes.
"Thank you," I said to the representative, my voice replaced with Mr. Beckers slight accent. "I'll do my best to fulfill this role."
The representative nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I have no doubt you will, Richard. Now, it's time for your first task as Mr. Becker."
He gestured towards the computer on my desk, indicating that I needed to give a virtual broadcast to the company. The broadcast went seemlessly, and after the broadcast ended, the representative approached me once again, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Well done, Mr. Becker," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "You handled that with grace and confidence. Now, let's discuss what comes next."
And as we delved into the details of my new role, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within me. He explained that I will get access to my memories if I pleasure myself, and left a bottle of lotion on the desk. He smiled as he walked out, and I couldn't help but return the same smile with sinister undertones. It was time to embrace the role fully.
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Ah yes, about that... we thought we'd given you to the keys to the wrong room but things seem to have resolved themselves.
*Harder to breathe now. You have so many questions, but the dizzy sensation makes it hard to think straight. The hotel manager's smile disarms you and leaves you unsure what all the fuss was about. Ah yes! You'll forget your old self soon.*
AI is a side hobby but I do actual TF art too! Please take a peek at patreon.com/futobara if male TF sequences are your thing.
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As I stumbled out of the gay bar, I could still hear the echoes of our argument reverberating in my mind. Kelsey and I had clashed over something so trivial, yet it had escalated into a heated exchange, leaving both of us feeling angry. She accused me of being homophobic and maybe she was right. But at that moment, all I could feel was the sting of her words.
I barely registered the man offering me a shot as I stormed towards the exit. In my haze of emotions, I simply grabbed it, not caring about the consequences. Downing the liquid in one gulp, I felt a rush of heat spread through my veins, momentarily distracting me from my troubles. Little did I know, that shot would change everything.
As I stepped out into the cool night air, the world around me started to spin. Colors blurred, shapes distorted, and then everything went black. When I regained consciousness, I was disoriented, my head pounding with a dull ache. Blinking away the haze, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. But as I looked down at my body, horror washed over me like a tidal wave.
Where once there were chiseled muscles and taut skin, there was now flab and loose skin. My hands trembled as I ran my hands over my stomach, feeling the unfamiliar rock hard gut beneath my touch. And when I touched my face, expecting to feel smooth skin, I was met with a coarse beard that scratched against my fingertips.
Panic seized me as I stumbled towards the nearest mirror, desperate to see what had become of me. And what I saw staring back at me was not myself, but a stranger with a protruding gut, bald head and a thick white beard.
I recoiled in horror, unable to comprehend what had happened. Had I been drugged? Was this some sort of cruel prank? But as the events of the previous night flooded back into my mind, I realized with a sinking feeling that the man who had offered me that shot must have had something to do with this.
As I stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, unable to believe the reflection was matching my mannerisms. Then, I noticed a picture on the dresser, depicting the man whose body I now inhabited locked in a passionate embrace with another man. And as I gazed at the image, something stirred within me. The man whose body I now inhabited wasn't just any man — he was gay.
At first, I recoiled from the idea, but I was interrupted my the man in the picture coming in.
"Hey Baby" he said as he wrapped his arms around me and pressing his body into me. I felt a wave of lust wash over me. I found myself growing more and more comfortable in my own skin.
Despite my initial reservations, I couldn't deny the horniness that flooded me. I brought the boyfriend back in for a passionate kiss.
Suddenly, A text message pinged on the phone beside me, it was from my old number explaining that I needed to learn my lesson and he'll swap us back at the end of the day. I let my lust take over and blocked the number, in hopes that would prevent a swap back. I kissed the boyfriend again, as he pulled me into a warm embrace and I pressed my cock against his butt. This was going to be better than anything I experienced before.
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Careful What You Wish For
I lay the cheap looking lamp on my bathroom counter as I get ready for a bath. I can't believe I caved and bought it, it's obviously a scam. This stupid lamp isn't gonna grant any wishes, that old man just got some free cash out of me. It doesn't matter, I'll just take a relaxing bath and throw on some Netflix later.
I get undressed and run some hot water into the bath. Some scented candles set the mood for relaxation, and I throw on some music. I dip myself into the warm water, and lay back.
My relaxation doesn't last long however, as a rumbling catches my attention. It's the lamp. It's vibrating with enough force that I can feel it from across the bathroom. Suddenly a purple smoke emerges from the lamp.
"I may grant you one wish." A soft whisper echoes out of the smoke.
What the actual fuck. This isn't possible. Did that guy drug me? Maybe I should just say a wish to see if it's true.
"I wish to be a more mature looking guy who likes sports." I blurt out. I've always hated how much I look like a teenager despite being a full blown adult, so this could fix that. Also I wouldn't mind being a fit guy who likes sports, it wouldn't hurt.
The moment I say it, the smoke starts to travel towards me. All the smoke spirals into my mouth and nose. I should be scared, but it kinda feels nice. A warm feeling sprouts in the core of my body, making me feel relaxed again.
As the smoke fills my body, I feel my muscles twitching. It must be true, my body is changing. My twig like arms thicken, with bulging biceps and defined forearms. My soft hands grow twice as big and fill with rough callouses. My chest puffs out into two juicy pecs and my stomach flattens into a cut six pack. My thighs thicken as I feel my ass plump up. Even my feet look like they've grown a few sizes. I also have to start bending my legs, as Ive become too tall for the bath tub I'm sitting in.
I look at my reflection in the water and see a handsome man in his late twenties. Holy shit, I'm hot! I've got a chiselled jawline with a dark beard covering it. All my features seem more angular, more manly. As I'm observing my reflection, I notice a pelt of dark hair grow all over my body. My chest, my arms, my legs, everywhere is dusted in a coat of hair.
This is everything I wanted. Even the sports. Memories of playing sports all throughout school flood my mind. I especially liked soccer, though I also really liked weight lifting. More memories of my extensive sex life flood my mind, people are almost hypnotised by my good looks.
Just as I'm reminiscing about my past, I remember I should be working out right now. I can't skimp out on my workout routine. I go to get out of the bath and notice I've got my underwear on. Huh, I must have forgotten to take it off before getting in the bath.
As I'm stepping out of the bath, something feels wrong. A warm feeling once again fills my core. I look down and see my six pack fade under a belly of fat. It continues growing until it sags over my underwear. My pecs swell into a pair of man tits, though they still have a solid base of muscle. My arms double in size, though with a soft layer of fat now covering the muscles. My hands thicken until they look like stuffed sausages, as more rough features cover them.
I feel my underwear tighten around my waist as my ass fattens. My thighs thicken until there is no gap between them, and my feet grow many sizes. I even feel my perspective shift higher, as my height increases.
The dark hairs on my body fade to an almost white colour as the hair thickens around my body. As I'm looking down at my body, I notice hair on my head fall to the ground. I look in horror at my reflection in the mirror, I have to duck just to fully see my face. My hairline recedes all the way to the back of my head, leaving me practically bald. My once sharp facial features have softened under a layer of fat. And a double chin has formed under my beard. I look so old.
Though the more I stare at my body, the more familiar it becomes. Memories flood into my mind of my career in soccer. I was a high level player, and a popular one at that. But you age out of professional soccer in your late thirties. I started focusing more on the weight lifting and less on the cardio. There was only so long I could keep that six pack, and turning 50 certainly didn't help with that. I don't mind it though, it makes me feel more manly. And it makes the team I coach more afraid of me.
I snap out of my trance. I grab a towel and start to dry off. Damn I forgot to take off my underwear again, I should get rid of this one anyway, it doesn't fit me anymore. I duck and look at myself in the mirror.
"Lookin good coach." I say as I smile at myself.
I turn to the other side of the bathroom and step on my scale. It reads '350'.
"Damn, I've really let go of myself, huh." I say as I jiggle my gut.
I also measure my height, it reads 6"6. I should have gone into volleyball with the build I had.
I dry off and leave the bathroom. I grab a family sized bag of chips and lay my fat ass down on the couch. I open the tv and it's already on the world cup. I really wouldn't want it any other way.
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