transformation CREO Pt. 3

[lasergaser14]

And here's part three. Enjoy!

 

Jimmy sat sprawled on his bed, heart pounding, phone in hand, taking in the sight of his angry, worried, and shocked roommate. Before Jimmy’s transformation, he and Seth had been similarly unappealing. Jimmy had been small, unimpressive, and sort weedy and rat-like, with bad skin to boot; Seth was--well, he was just kind of gross. Overweight, greasy, ungroomed, and perpetually unkempt and unshowered. He looked like he hung out in sketchy back rooms (which he did) and didn’t mind getting messy (which he didn’t), with the downside, of course, being that he never bothered to get clean.

 

Seth’s small, watery eyes were narrowed as he stared at the golden god on his roommate’s bed. “Who the fuck are you? Why do you have the phone I gave Jimmy for his birthday?”

 

Jimmy inhaled. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

 

“Seth, it’s me. I’m Jimmy. The phone you gave me had an app on it, and like...it changed me. I’m this guy now. I mean, this is me. I’m blond and hot now.” 

 

Seth snorted. “Bullshit. That’s not possible. That phone’s a cheap Apple knockoff--it’ll probably break next week.” 

 

Jimmy shook his head. “No, Seth. Look, it’s--”

 

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

 

“Because it’s me! I’m Jimmy!”

 

Seth narrowed his eyes again. “That’s not possible, asshole.” 

 

Jimmy groaned in frustration. “Come on, Seth. Ask me something only I’d know! I can tell you stuff about you! Like...how I wrote your history essay for you last week, because you bought that rotisserie chicken for us! About the Italian Wars in the Renaissance?”

 

Seth shook his head. “Nope. That just proves that you’re some kind of crazy stalker creep, or something.”

Jimmy shook his head, growing frantic. “No! I’m not!” An idea hit him. “Wait! I can prove it!” He grabbed his phone. “Creo, make me--uh--give me a tattoo!”

“Where would you like your tattoo?” the app said pleasantly. “And what would you like it to be of?”

“Shit, I don’t care. Um. On my pec. Somewhere Seth can see it.” Nothing happened--Jimmy knew he had to be more specific. “One of those dumb ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’ tattoos. On my left pec.” 

 

As Seth’s eyebrows went up in disbelief, Jimmy felt a slight heat on his left-hand pec. When he looked down, there was a tattoo, in a modified Roman script, of the famous Latin phrase. He looked up at Seth, his heart beating quickly. “See?” he said. “I’m Jimmy. I just...changed myself. With...with the phone you gave me. With the app on it.” He held up the phone, offering it to Seth, who gingerly took it from him.

Seth looked down at the phone, which still had that silvery, liquid screen, and then looked back at Jimmy. He reached out and touched the tattoo on his upper pec--and then, without saying anything, groped the rest of the large, round muscle. Something clicked for him, and his eyes widened in disbelief and shock. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. Then his expression changed to a delighted, if calculating grin. “Oh, shit.” 

 

The screen on the app changed somehow, and Seth began tapping around, although Jimmy couldn’t see what he was seeing, and had no idea what he was learning. Seth’s expression remained surprised and delighted, and he looked at Jimmy, meeting his eyes. “Dude, this is...do you have any idea what you have here?” he said softly. “We’re gonna be rich.” He licked his lips. “We’re gonna be hot.” He laughed. “We’re gonna get so much fucking ass.” 

 

Seth held up the phone up to his mouth and spoke into it. “Yo, Creo. Make me hot. Hotter than Jimmy.” 

 

Nothing happened. Seth made a face. “Creo? App? What the fuck is happening?”

“CREO is a consensual reality-alteration app,” the voice explained. “I am licensed only to the original user. All transformations must involve both his consent, and the consent of the transforming party.” Seth nodded, narrowing his eyes and looking at Jimmy. It appeared that he hadn’t been banking on that: Jimmy was still necessary for his plans. He handed the phone back to his roommate. “Okay, Jimmy,” he said. “Tell it to make me hot.” 

 

Jimmy nodded. “Creo, you have my permission to transform Seth.” 

 

The app chimed. “Thank you. New user, please press your thumb on the sensor for identification.” Seth did, and there was another chime, but he remained his greasy self. 

 

“App? Why aren’t I changing?” 

 

“Would you like a generic transformation? Or would you like to control your own?”

 

Seth’s grin got huge. “Oh, I definitely want to control it.” The screen on the phone changed: a list of stats, all of them variable. Seth looked at them and began planning with them. “Creo, can you show me what Jimmy’s stats are?” He smirked at his roommate. “So that I can make myself hotter.” Another chime, and the phone’s screen filled with Jimmy’s stats, next to the sliders and input boxes for Seth. Jimmy’s heart was still pounding, and Seth grabbed the chair from his desk, sank down, and got to work.

 

Deprived of his phone, Jimmy had nothing to distract himself with other than the mirror and his body. It was a potent distraction: every few seconds, he’d catch a glimpse of himself, and remember that reality had shifted immensely. That would make his cock twitch, and then he’d absently feel himself up, his pecs would bounce and his abs would flex, and then he’d see Seth sitting across from him, and lay off until the whole cycle started again.

 

About ten minutes later, Seth grinned and looked up. “Okay. I think I’m done.” He smirked at Jimmy. “Sorry, dude, but you’re not anywhere near as hot as I’m about to be.” He tapped the phone’s screen. “Okay, Creo. Engage, or whatever.” There was another chime, and almost immediately, Seth started changing.

 

Jimmy had only seen his own transformation, of course. He was experiencing this one from the outside: without the feeling of pressure and the release of pleasure that came with it, although there was plenty of pleasure to be had from watching Seth transform into an unrecognizably hot god. Jimmy was surprised: Seth had good taste in guys. Great taste in guys. Either his shitty roommate was more bisexual than he let on, or he was an experienced, dispassionate connoisseur of the male form. 

 

The first thing to happen was Seth’s weight. The pounds just melted off him, leaving him lean and angular. He jumped out of the chair as it happened--either because he as feeling a surge or energy from the transformation, or because he realized he needed to get out of his clothes, Jimmy didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Seth pulled off his shirt, revealing a skinny, bony, pasty-pale chest, and then he yanked off his stained sweats. He stood in front of Jimmy in his old yellow boxers, newly skinny, his changes only just beginning.

 

They all happened more or less at once, because Seth had planned them out beforehand. Jimmy’s eyes kept darting from his face, to his chest, to his legs, to his crotch, trying to take in the entire transformation at once.

 

Seth’s face changed, unsurprisingly, into a countenance that would have worked on a runway in Milan, or the cover of a magazine. His hair darkened from a greasy light brown to a glossy almost black, resting on his head in a stylish mess only slightly different from Jimmy’s. His jawline stretched so wide that it looked like it would crack; instead, it became square, and his chin refashioned itself to balance the whole thing out. His cheekbones rose as the skin pulled taut across them, and his nose straightened, and even lengthened as his eyes widened, and then darkened into a dazzling green. Seth smiled, revealing teeth that were even and bright white, and when he closed his mouth again, his lips had become, unsurprisingly, a wide, pouty cupid’s bow.

 

Seth shot up, as well--he had been serious about wanting to be hotter than Jimmy, and seemed to have taken that to mean that he would add a few inches or pounds onto every single one of Jimmy’s measurements. He was now six feet, three inches, and as his body began to fill with muscle, he started looking like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man (provided you swapped out his Renaissance proportions for modern aesthetic bodybuilding proportions, which was, of course, exactly what Seth had done). 

 

Seth’s body shape began to change. His shoulders grew outwards, giving him a powerful, broad look, and his waist drew inwards, tightening to almost delicate proportions. The muscle didn’t start packing on just yet: this was the readjustment of his frame, the transition of his genetics that would make any amount of muscle on him look unfairly good. Thas was exactly what happened as he began inflating: as his delts and traps grew, his shoulders looked twice and powerful and broad; as his quads thickened to a size larger than his twenty-eight inch waist, his proportions looked almost herculean. The newly flat stomach rippled with muscle, become a veiny, shredded eight pack; his pecs ballooned over them, perfectly round, striated when he flexed them, and capped with two pert, perfect nipples. Seth’s biceps became swollen, the muscle splitting into the two distinct heads from which they got their name; as he straightened his arms, looking down at them in wonder, his triceps popped through the skin, looking like the perfect horseshoe. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice now deep and sexy as he put his hand on his abs and dragged his thumb down to his waistband.

 

Seth turned to the side, checking himself out from various angles, allowing Jimmy to see him in profile. His quads had swollen into diamonds, and his ass was ballooning, becoming a shelf of round, perky muscle that looked like it had been sculpted from years of endless squats. His bulge was growing, too: Jimmy was eager to see what Seth had given himself, but knew it would be larger than his, didn’t think that Seth was the type of guy who’d just show him if he asked. As the muscle finished growing, Seth stared at himself in the mirror. 

 

It was hard to describe what happened next. It was like a wave passed over Seth’s body, finishing things up, modifying it, making the muscles pop to their most appealing extent, softening the harshness of some of his shreds, making some veins, like the cephalic on his bicep, stand out,while making other recede. When it was done, Seth was a god: at two hundred and thirty shredded pounds, he was forty pounds bigger than Jimmy, three inches taller, and looked like the type of guy who cared about nothing so much as he did his own aesthetics.

 

Grinning at Jimmy, Seth cupped his bulge. “I’m gonna go take care of this,” he smirked. “Don’t go to bed, though. That app can do way more than we’ve already done--once I’m finished, we’ve gotta discuss our new life.” He tossed the phone back to his roommate. Leaving Jimmy achingly hard in bed, he disappeared, slamming the door to his own bedroom.

[benroc]

Awesome continuation...  What's going to happen?? This is HOT!!!

[ploder4]

I think Jimmy needs to put some extra control on CREO.  I have a feeling Seth is going to screw Jimmy over.  

[lasergaser14]

3 hours ago, ploder4 said:

I think Jimmy needs to put some extra control on CREO.  I have a feeling Seth is going to screw Jimmy over.  

And wouldn't that be a shame?

[Ro20316]

The  fun this two will have.

Cant wait to read it.

[sshroyer2115]

Great stuff! Please continue!

[hunghuge]

Anxiously awaiting part 4