"So weak. No muscle. Hardly any thing masculine about you.."
The extremely shrill lady yelled as the door flung open, her eyes in complete and utter rage as though she was about to let loose a flurry of insults and seriously whip this gay boy into shape!
But as she was about to do so, she was overcome by a ray of emotion as her heart was once again-shattered into pieces. By the mere fact of-
“...Just like my son!”
She immediately slammed the door shut, as Freddy was astonished by the shock factor behind it, not even able to sass out the alpha domma matriach. Extreme wailing could be heard from the inside, extremely loud and over exaggerated, like she’s callin’ for her-
“Im Coming Delphine!”
Out from the back, a tall, confident male was soon dashing towards the room as though his life depended on him. Eyes filled with determination as his ever-expanding muscles looked like those of a man who worked out pretty often. But as Freddy took a deeper glance at that still-millennial face, he instantly recognised it was
"Matron! Oh Mi Gawd! Have you been working out? You lookso hawwt-“
“Not now Manfred! Can’t you see my beloved is crying! Just go fetch us some hot green tea or something!”
Shut Down.
Freddy was flabbergasted! Sure Matron was into that top dancer Kevin guy, but he was the school’s top playah! Not even the hottest gay guy could shut him down! Especially not that introverted Ma...uh, whatever his name was!
And what is with that indian sounding accent? With a pinch of Caribbean ARRRGH? Wasn’t he...no wait, yeah he was Indian and from the Caribbean ...but wait! Who’s Manfred?! Oh...now that I think about it....
“And while you are at it, Be a Man! Just tell the woman already!”
SLAM!
He instantly closed the door shut, silencing the questions he had for Dr Riches. Wait...what was he asking the Doctor again? Something about Hawwwt....Hawt....Hot. Oh yes! Hot! There was a scheduled appointment at the Scientists’ Lounge later and he really needed to get that hot green tea from the Japanese section of the foreign Language’s lounge.
That was what it was!
———————————————
As he was headed to the lounge, he noticed as his steps became larger and larger, almost as though he was more confident, more dominant with himself-and not in a flirtatious kind of way. Gentle, precise steps become more like brisk walking. Making larger, more assured steps as though he was the man in charge!
‘Only a real man can truly be proud of himself!’
“Yea definitely!”
Agreeing with that reminder drilled inside him, his voice took on a slightly louder-commanding tone as the flirtation was kept to a minimum. With one foot in front of the other, he strode down the hallway, as his hips swayed less and became more reminiscent of a uniformed march.
As with every step, bringing him far closer to his destination. The bunny slippers could not be worthy of being in such an increasingly masculine demeanour, as the bunnies had no choice but crawl around his heels, slowly fading into a simple white as it became thread, a rougher tone than the softness of slippers as his feet knew it had to toughen up a notch.
His feet could sense the aftermath, Sandals and socks?! The fashion police would arrest him in an instant for his dorkiest shoe wear...or well rather...huh? Since when was he so concerned about what millennials think? Its much better if he just listened to his kind.
And they said that males should have FIRM, MUSCULAR FEET, as his soles stretched hard, crushing the softness of his slippers with every step as it became more of a wooden texture, elevating his feet slightly as tradition formed a firm grip in his life, with wooden blocks forming beneath to represent what his ancestors stood for.
Ancestors? As he pondered, the top part of his slippers coiled in between his toes, removing the nail polish as it neatly connected itself to the wooden base, formulating a pair of traditional Japanese Geta Sandals that honoured tradition.
With the Japanese in play, STRETCHING with a jumble of POPS! Cartoonish effects emerging as his feet, while still a milky caucasian, had gained a slightly more...yellowish hue as it was reminiscent of a labouring male, toes wiggling as they became mummy wrapped with the material.
Tanned to represent all the hours in the sun from plowing the fields-Or perhaps in this generation...Playing soccer?
“Soccer?”
Tilting his head down of a sudden, and glanced at his foot wear... Sandals and socks...very traditional, such as himself. Yet somehow, he knew these are still able to rock the fields despite them not being cleats, with a-
KICK-!
THUD!
“ARGH!” He groaned, echoing manlier, hitting a conveniently placed water cooler, grabbing his Geta Feet as the jolt of pain surged up through his knees-zig zagging up and down those gay boy loins and down to the other leg.
With pain comes endurance, as a couple of inches rose the teen until that of an adult. Still young, until years of experience KICK up the gluteus region, as slabs of muscle thicken, thighs feeling strong and ready for action-a form of a very masculine sport...
“Masculine”
A word that would never have been used to describe Freddy, but as that word resonated below...it sent a tingle and an overwhelming strength within him...a mixture of manly arousal and overall adrenaline...something Freddy never felt in his hook ups...something he....
Those calves gripped in incredible strength as they RRRRIP! Those tight booty shorts, inches away from his knee caps and looked mega awkward in his hunky-milky yellow trunks. Further supported with his ass plumping up slightly-filling up the bone as it thickened and TIGHTENED! Clenching tightly as though they were having great pain below-or perhaps as a gag reflection to the former entities that previously entered below.
“Ugh....” Freddy shuddered at the thought of male sex for the first time in his life.
Still unsure why he felt that way...maybe he needed a break...yeah, its break period till an hour...as his legs had swelled to a working man’s stance, his mannerisms and march to the lounge were even more so than himself typically, almost...like hammily as evident by those square buttocks peeking out of the remains of his-
Booty shorts, as they lowered and became somewhat looser,just enough to comfortably fit his strong legs-he had to be able to dash freely if needed after all! As it fully draped and covered those black bristles dusting his knees, a grey dark blueish tone bathed those shorts-pants, TROUSERS! His work attire as he was on school grounds, he had to look presentable.
But wasn’t he presentable before? He tried to recall what the bottom half of him looked like before he-GRIP! Holding his head, like a flashback or a newly found memory of someone spanking his hardened ass...sending shivers down his spine before he shook that off...probably one of those Japanese horror novels...
Ironically-that shock pushed out his balls and member longer as his waist and legs, strained perfectly but not too tight. On his trousers was a long invisible snake coiled around his hips, through those belt loops as it BIT on its tail-revealing its metallic sheen as the silver buckle hooked itself as black leather belt.
‘Feeling more of a MAN!’
MAN...
...
Really itching for a game of soccer with the boys at MAN-
“MAN?!” Freddy paused, his eyes went blank for a sec, MAN was a frat jock clique...was it? It was the top alpha fraternity in the school! With their star soccer player Raiden Koh. “What am I thinking-“
Stretching his back as his feet continued to press forward, the slight click and cracks to his skinny frame was enough to send the man over 6ft, towering over the student population was something that was expected of his culture-after all, they had to be presentable enough to garner the respect of their-
THUMP!
“Agh!”
Hitting his foreheadnoted to himself, glancing at the Japanese door in front of him-stating ‘Foreign Language Lounge’. He immediately reached out-grabbing the door knob with his left palm, almost as though his messy right-handedness had shifted to a meticulous, left-hand, unique...though he had to be careful with those pencils with his masculine-
SNAP!
‘AGH!’
His palms ripped the door knob off, grew up even larger, as though he lifted weights while and did tons of heavy combat work in his life. Fingerprints re arranging themselves to that of an oriental...with some essence of caucasian in them.
‘Suppress your unruly American genes Tadashi-sensei...suppress it.’
With that, his strong soccer butt contracted, propelling as it LET LOOSE those legs, kicking into the lounge that was specifically made for mentors that taught different languages-a fusion in fact, to accommodate all the different languages.
‘And for some reason...he knew all of this despite only being dressed ‘Kawaii’ previously for a client...well, Freddy was dressed Kawaii’
*CLICK!*
Mr Tadashi turned on the lights, examining the different sections before simply moving on to where he belongs...with slight bias to-
“I am a professional! I can’t be seen hanging out with unruly caucasians!” He commented, noting the smell of french and Italian wine in the air “But Soccer...is life! Manhood! POWER-!”
His pectorals definitely needed groping, as it swelled as though it was stung by a bee. Filled with nutritious Japanese honey that the girls and even the gays just want a piece of that. Too bad his loud hollering exterior scares most of the girls away and only attracts sissies as they relentlessly disturb and spank him.
Dr Riches and Dr Chang would always drill into him the importance of a good spanking. But more importantly, a good groping. Almost as though its like a reaffirmation of the difference between a male and female, biologically and the method of pleasure.
With all the homos harassing him, they toughened and squared up into those of a full-fledged Japanese man, rounded due to intense military and sports training and now as the full fledged coach of MAN’s soccer team.
Clenching his fists as they tightened, furious of the disrespect as they SLAMMED his desk top, the lounge and his workspace was kind of merged due to the school’s budgeting-and the fact students simply could not appreciate foreign languages!
His over 6ft back straightened over the fact, into perfect posture as strong muscle lines over his shoulders-and his back, trailing down his arms and neck as his soon to be former tank top squealed in ecstasy.
His abdominals were outstanding, chiseled to perfection as the anime picture melted into a plain white, stretching wider as it covered up his indecency-his arms had to flex and display their herculean strength, biceps curled out of anger as the teacher posed as though he had just underwent a workout.
Similarly to his scientist mentors, he had look appropriately. His tank top crawled down his arms, rolling at the elbows as they formed into plain white sleeves. The middle row grew an array of buttons as a collar popped over his hollering neck. Straining against his frame was a plain white buttoned down buttoned down shirt, emphasizing the simplicity of it as it focused on his hunky frame...hunky...
‘Oh mi gawd sensei you are so hunky!!!’
“NO! I AM A MAN!”
Despite his extremely traditional Asian outlook and strictness he implemented while teaching the wonders of Japan culture, the gays in his class saw through his exterior Sternness as they kept cat calling him in class like it was some cruel role reversal joke where the hunter has become the hunted.
His vocal chords took on a lower key, no more moans as they take on intensive hollering like he did in the army. A few years in both Japan and America to ensure he is trained conservatively, just like how he studied in Japan due to it being his country of origin.
‘But Sensei~Do you Visual Kei?’
“BUT AS A SENSEI! I DO NOT VISUAL KEIIII!”
He kept yelling, inside and possibly outside his mind. His jaw echoed rectangular, cheek bones filling up moderately to emphasize his masculine (and cuteness but we do not want him to yell again now we?) as the blush faded into oblivion-his new face foreign to any kind of make up or touch up.
His nose grew into an aquiline, sharp and concise like an eagle in his beliefs. His ear lobes sealed up as they sealed up in respect to his new bloodline. He was clearly a different man now...far from...whatever that lifestyle was. He was a professional.
“Professional...Professional..., you are professional.”
Conservative in his beliefs and traditional in his outlook, the man in his thirties has his hair of short length-not overtly short but just the right length as his sides and back remained shaved off-but the soft fluffiness slicked and hardened until the blonde dye melted into raven black. His hair nicely combed and slicked before some strands spiking left and right, emphasizing his is still a guy that likes his sports. He is a man that chases after-
“W-Why am I feeling this way?”
His eyebrows lifted, no more that overtly trimmed gayness but arched masculinity as he visualized a very...very cute lady in the distance, smiling at him as his face flushed red, and his unpierced lobes blew out steam.
She was...his type.
And He was hers.
He could imagine all the things he could do for her. Carry her, shower her with gifts. Do anything and for his soulmate. Anything and everything.
The former twink would rather have a strong hunky man carry him, the new sensei now finds it a disgrace to not help a woman in need.
He remembered when he trained in American military. The sensei in his early thirties could still remember the . Specially since he was still under his superior-Percival. A conservative man whose completely dedicated to tradition and the right ways of a man and a woman.
“Ichimiya-san....!”
Bitting his lip, despite being a pan-asian hottie, he always had trouble with women due to his excessive military and somewhat hammy mannerisms and paranoia. He wanted a lady who he could protect all the time and wouldn’t mind his true self, he remembered his sensei-well, drill sergeant in the army, always instructed him to treat his rifle like his very own wife, with the ability to fire bullets without fear...but when he looked at her.
She was as innocent as a flower.
That being said, Freddy the faggot was silenced as tue remaining bits
before switching back on with stern determination. Screens flicking back on as his eyelids slowly raised upward, epicanthic folds seemingly fuller yet-retaining the wide eyed caucasian genes to make it seem like he is Japanese show character.
He wanted to say I LOVE YOU! So badly. No...he can’t call her by first name! That would be in appropriate...no wait! Why would he be in love with a gal?!!!!
There was no way he was a homosexual.
He needed his teacher and counselor for in college, Mark Riches advice. Besides being a scientist, he also studied psychology and vowed to never. Although he would make consistent gestures that would...
Manfred Tadashi face was red with emotion, his pores were sweating like buckets despite the powerful air conditioning. His senpais were right! He had to just man up and confess to her, for a long time, he so badly wanted to say-
“Ichimiya-san...I-!”
But an interruption had to take place.
“ARGH! MY HANDS!”