In the school cafeteria, Greta took a quick glance at her watch, surprised at how late it was already. Her shift had ended hours ago, but she had wanted to get started on the menu for tomorrow’s lunch so she didn’t fall behind. After nearly thirty years of experience, Greta had learned that prepping soups always took longer than expected, and she’d rather stay late than have a hectic morning the next day. Besides, it wasn’t like she had much waiting for her at home.
At nearly 60, Greta was nearing retirement age, but the thought of losing her job at the school filled her with dread. She had no close dependents, with her husband passing over a decage ago and no children. Greta knew she wasn’t much to look at, with frizzy graying hair and a frumpy body, and she’d given up on the idea of finding love again.
She looked up from the cutting board after hearing a knock to see Coach Ryerson standing in the kitchen doorway. The man was dressed in black track pants and a white polo with the school’s logo emblazoned on it, a sly grin on his face. Greta was surprised to see him; while the Coach seemed nice enough, she could only remember exchanging formalities with the man a handful of times since he’d started at the school.
“Good evening, Coach Ryerson,” Greta said, slipping off her stained apron. The gray tshirt and pants she was wearing weren’t exactly fashionable, but at least they were clean.
“Please, call me Steven, ma’am,” Coach replied with a wink. He leant against the doorway, posing with his hands in his pockets. Greta felt herself flush, but tried not to visibly react; she wasn’t used to attention from younger men.
“In that case, call me Greta.” She slid the chopped vegetables into the burning pot on the stove before lowering the temperature and turning to face Ryerson with her full attention. “Can I do something for you, Steven?”
“I saw that you were still working and I just thought I’d drop by before heading out to see if you wanted any company,” Ryerson explained as he started to approach her.
“That’s very kind of you. I’m just about done for the night; if you didn’t mind waiting a minute for me to finish up, maybe we can walk out together?” Greta suggested. She felt slightly uncomfortable by Ryerson’s demeanour; if she didn’t know better she’d almost think he was flirting with her.
“Or we could stay in here a bit longer,” Coach propositioned, reaching out to Greta and gently stroking her cheek. She physically recoiled at his touch, banging her waist into the countertop as she stepped backwards.
“This is not a very funny joke,” Greta snapped at him angrily. She knew everyone thought of her as the lonely old lady and had accepted that, but being teased like this was just cruel.
“I would never joke about such a thing, Greta.” He sounded so sincere, it was hard not to believe him. Greta looked Ryerson in the eyes, trying to gauge his expression; he really did seem genuine, eager even.
Before Greta could question him further, Ryerson leaned in and gently kissed her. She had almost forgotten the feeling of a man’s lips it had been so long. Despite her reservations, Greta hungrily kissed Ryerson back, reaching out to grip the man’s firm shoulders.
Ryerson placed his hands on Greta’s shoulders and slowly lowered her down to her knees. The Coach slid down his track pants to reveal his erect cock, giving it a few quick strokes as he looked down at her. Not sure if this was really happening, Greta opened her lips and placed Ryerson’s cock in her mouth. It had been many years since she went down on a man, but it wasn’t like she had forgotten. Greta ran her tongue along Ryerson’s shaft, bobbing her head back and forth. She heard Coach grunt in pleasure and knew she must have licked a sensitive part of his dick and decided to focus on that area.
Ryerson threw his head back against the wall and moaned, continuing to thrust in Greta’s mouth. With one loud final grunt he started to cum; Greta tried to pull back but Ryerson tightened his grip on the back of her head. “Swallow it,” He growled forcefully.
Once his orgasm had finished, Ryerson released his grip, allowing Greta to fall back against the grount as she struggled to catch her breath. The feeling of arousal continued to swell through her, her heartbeat racing.
It took Greta a moment to realize that she was starting to change. Her shirt started to loosen up as her fat started to melt away; her stomach started to tighten while her shoulders broadened, taking on a much more muscular frame. Greta looked from her changing body up at Coach Ryerson in amazement, who was grinning down at her. He still had his hard dick in his hands and was slowly jerking it as he watched Greta change.
“Just enjoy it,” Ryerson smirked, giving Greta another wink.
Greta’s body continued to slim down, the overweight woman’s fat quickly being burned into muscle. Her large breasts started to shrink down, vanishing into a thick pair of pecs. Her stomach had hardened with muscle while retained some of its roundness, and her arms thickened as veins bulged from her newly formed biceps and triceps. Her torso was now unmistakably masculine.
Greta let out a small groan as she felt something long and hard emerge from her genitals. A bulge quickly formed in her pants, tenting the fabric as it struggled to contain her new member. With a loud rip, the crotch of her pants tore off, revealing a large erect cock sprouting from what had been her vagina. A massive set of testicles dropped from under the cock before her female privates disappeared altogether. Her graying pubic bush thickened and darkened to a deep brown, with similar coloured hairs quickly spreading across her arms and legs. Greta’s waist widened as her ass tightened and firmed, losing its roundness.
The changes continued to move down her body, Greta’s legs growing longer was they slimmed down and bulked up. From the neck down, she now had the body of a muscular, hairy man.
Greta’s face started to change, taking on a more masculine appearance as her jaw grew squared and her lips thinned. A thick dark stubble grew down her jaw and chin, her neck widening as a large Adam’s apple popped out. Wrinkles faded as she regressed in age back to her late thirties, her eyebrows thickening and growing darker. Her long, messy gray-blonde hair shortened into a crew cut, darkening to a salt and pepper colour.
Memories throughout her life started to flash through her mind as they started to fade; Greta welcomed the end. She had been terribly unhappy, and somehow she had miraculously been given another lease on life; she welcomed the onslaught of new memories rewiring her brain. He embraced his new identity as a sexy gay gym teacher with the ability to change other people into him through his cum. With one final shake of his head, the newly created Ryerson opened his eyes and grinned up at his clone standing over him.
“Like what you see?” The new Ryerson asked, reaching a hand down to his exposed cock and giving it a stroke.
“You know it, babe,” The original Ryerson laughed. He liked to think that he had done the woman a favour; being him was a definite step up from the dreadful life she had been living.
“We need to find me a new set of clothes,” The new Ryerson remarked. The shirt and pants that had been tight on Greta were loose and baggy on his body, the pants falling down to his knees as he stood up.
“All in good time,” The original Ryerson agreed with a nod, looking at the still cooking pot on the stove. “What if we add a special ingredient to tomorrow’s lunch?”