For his part, Dylan hadn’t noticed a single bit of the previous exchange, completely stuck in his own scent. At some point, all of his clothing had come off and was lying in shreds on the floor around him. Chloe was amused to see it, and to have a view of his big cock and hairy bush above it.
With every sniff of his masculine scent, his persona was changing to become the epitome of manliness. He stood up straighter as he grow confident, and stiffer as his mind became more stoic. He was a man’s man, his boyish interests in cars and sports becoming fully fledged as information about makes and models of trucks, and sports players and teams were drilled into his head. He had a favorite team for every major league, and was filled with memories of watching games with his buddies.
As his head whirled, his body continued sweating and producing odor as his sniffing routine started to change as he flexed a bicep, the impressive musculature being visible under even his thick white body hair. He flexed his biceps, as information poured into his brain about how he liked to work out and lifted practically every day. He flexed his legs, as a fitness regime became a staple of his life. He flexed his pecs, doing a little pec bounce as he remembered just how much the ladies and boys loved his sexy body.
Flexing felt good. Flexing felt incredible. It was showing off his hard work. His well earned bod, from hours upon hours of training, and some very lucky genetics to give him some sexy body hair. His zonked face broke into a wolfish grin as the thoughts swirled his head of just how incredible and sexy and wonderful he was, as he started to become a full-blown narcissist. Who wouldn’t want to be with him, or be him? He was a goddamn DILF.
As his thoughts turned to how wonderful and perfect he was, Dylan started to stroke his beard, his big fingers from his meaty hands rubbing through the thick, dense, silky white hairs. His beard was his pride any joy. It exuded sheer masculinity. It was just.. him. He couldn’t picture himself without it. Of course, he couldn’t picture himself as anything else, due to the power of the pills. This was simply who he was. And his beard was an important part of that, as his routine worked his way into his mind. Beard oils and shampoos and combs, all important things to have and use.
Dylan blinked as he started to take note of his surroundings again. There was some woman, standing there. And he was completely naked.. Was this some sort of sex thing? The room looked blurry too, and she looked concerned. Had he done something? No, that wasn’t possible. He wasn’t scum like that. The walls looked.. different, though. Somehow. Why was the paint different on every one?
And why was he naked?
Dylan barely had time to entertain that thought as his body started producing the manly, musky aroma again, bringing his brain right back down into his fantasy world, shaping the last remains of him to be the DILF he was meant to be.
As the pills did their work and caressed Dylan’s brain, the patches of his ripped clothing on the floor started to float in the air and spin around him. He didn’t even slightly notice as the fabrics changed in quantity, quality, and color, as they sorted and reformed around him, the whirlwind stopping as new old garments stitched and weaved themselves in the air.
What was only a simple tshirt before with a cartoon design on it had heavily altered itself into an orangey-black rust colored flannel, thick and comfortable. The clothing wrapped around Dylan as it pressed itself on him, buttoning up about two thirds of the way, leaving ample chest hair for any and all to see. Subconsciously, Dylan grabbed at his sweaty forest of chest hair, fluffing it out to look better.
His underwear, in comparison, hardly made significant changes as they simply grew in size, while additional fabric grew down the legs a little and the color faded, turning from white briefs to gray boxer briefs. It was hardly exciting, but as they wrapped around him before making their final stitches, his enormous bulge still looked quite impressive in the underwear. His socks followed suit, as they grew large for his huge feet, and thick, turning into a comfortable wool. The socks turned a dark gray, as the bottom browned and the garments started to smell a little bit from sweat, the input of a real man’s work. His wool socks slid on his feet easily as he wiggled his toes, finding comfort in his wardrobe.
The most drastic change happened to what remained of Dylan’s shorts, as the fabric stretched and turned a brown, but also covered itself in old dirt and stains. Many pockets appeared on the shorts which previously had none, and the rope on the inside shifted material into a big leather belt with a big buckle at the front. The new, but worn, carpenter pants fused to his hairy legs, showcasing his ample buttocks and thick bulge, with the buckle standing proudly in front. He felt a brief shake go through him as he snapped to reality, his belongings like his phone, wallet, and keys appearing in his pockets.
Dylan stepped forward, approaching the woman in the room, who still looked confused. He took his step, and looked down for a second, seeing that he was clad in thick work boots. When did he put those on? He shook his head as he dismissed the stupid thought.
They were his boots, of course. And he felt manly wearing them, so he had a pair for wearing around the house, separate from his job as an electrician. A brief thought entered his mind that he didn’t know the first thing about electricity, but as his brain was jolted from a quick whiff of the musky scent still lingering in the air, information filled in the remaining gaps in his brain.
He could practically remember his college education, doing a community college diploma in his small town, excelling in craftsmanship. He could remember graduation, them calling out his name: David Swimmer. That didn’t sound right, for just a moment, but the memory was clear as day. And it was only uphill from there – in over 30 years of work he had started his own company where he was the boss, and his expert craftsmanship and work ethic had paid off immensely.
David wondered why he was taking now to reminisce, as he snapped back to reality. This was his every day, after all. His home, his big truck waiting in the yard, his woman.. Yes.. his woman.. He looked at Chloe as he realized that this was the woman that he loved. But it wasn’t just love. They locked eyes, and David started to get hard, his bulge prominent in his work pants. Chloe seemed to snap back to reality as she smiled devilishly.
The final reality change for David and Chloe had taken place, as a silver wedding ring formed on both of their ring fingers on their dominant hands. As lust overtook David’s mind, everything consolidated as he grinned devilishly back. He was going to fuck his wife. And she loved it when he acted dominant.
“Bedroom. Now.” He said, in his deep commanding voice, before she leapt in his arms, him easily carrying her up to their bedroom for a fun and sexy time.