By all appearances, wealthy, 22 year old Quincy Adams College student Scott Carsten had it all together, admirably so. He was an inspiration to his classmates, a confident and assured lady's man, he ate up any spotlight - enjoying the feeling of positive regard. He was a speaker, an academic as well as a tremendous athlete. Unlike some of the other athletes at the college, Scott was well on course for a 4.0 grade point average finish, and his Hotel Magnate father was enthusiastic about his prospects of one day inheriting all of his accumulated empire. Scott was needless to say an expert at making sure his image was nothing but good. There couldn't be any blemishes or potential interruptions of his future.
This extended to his appearance. Because of course it did - it was the first thing people saw. Anyone who said that personality mattered more were simply naive. A good look got you into doors you'd otherwise be more critically examined for.
Standing six foot five feet tall and weighing 240 lbs, Scott had well trimmed, coiffed black hair when off the field, bright blue eyes, and an expertly tanned skin tone made by numerous trips to the tanning bed and the beach. When he wasn't on the field, he wore a white polo shirt, jeans, and a blazer. The very picture of class. And he never let that slip. At the gym he wore a white tank top, black shorts, and lifter's shoes that ran upwards of 200 dollars. His face was completely cleanshaven, his body likewise. Only a tiny bush allowed near his crotch. Scott let no body part too totally overshadow anything else - he toned and sculpted his physique like a bodybuilder, his eye on his aesthetics.
With classes out for the day, typically perfect Scott Carsten started his journey back to his solo dorm. Unlike the majority of students who preferred their dorm a more social experience, Scott preferred to live by himself. Just a healthy expectation of, and appreciation for, privacy. The sun setting cast the elite private college in a homey orange glow, and Scott felt a tinge of excitement knowing that night was coming. He had a party scheduled for the weekend, and he'd been sure to keep up with his studies...tonight should be reasonably free.
A quick tug at his collar to open up a few buttons on his polo. Scott breathed. As long as he was careful he could enjoy tonight. There was no reason to go out, or any call for any interaction.
As Scott walked down to his private dorm, he looked up as the dorm grew closer, his personal computer room in sight from the street. A light smile, almost a smirk, played out across his features. Scott knew that what he had going on here...well. Some of his friends, some of his teachers, most likely both his parents...they'd call it a problem. And yeah, he could see where they'd get that idea from.
As Scott unlocked the door, quelling the shaking of his hands from excitement, he gingerly removed his blazer as he stepped inside. Enjoying the immediate relief of cool air. He made sure the door was shut behind him - and locked, as much as possible. Scott's first addition had been three additional locks to the door. All the better to make sure he was not disturbed. Before long he also had his polo shirt off, the young man eagerly and more openly smiling broadly as he walked in.
A light press of his lip against his upper teeth. Fuck he felt worked up.
It had been a long school day, and much as he enjoyed the presentation and the way his life seemed to go, up to and including a fantastically passionate girlfriend who always had amazing sex with him...well, there was something money bought for him that nobody else could provide. First and foremost though, he ensured the backdoor was locked, drew closed any curtains - Scott was nothing if not careful that his secrets didn't get out.
It would certainly make things more difficult if his fetish became known. Well, fetish just kind of gave a certain impression. Really it was more like an obsession. It wasn't exactly the only way he could get off - he could after all bust a really nice orgasm whenever his girlfriend took his 8 incher into her mouth, or took it in her pussy or ass... but this was something so completely in another area of fulfillment. Once he was sure nobody would see the results of his desire, he stepped upstairs to enter his computer room.
Once inside, he looked around to see as usual that his litany of ointment containers resting on a shelf and bookcase were all there, in order. Several dozen books below them, all relevant to what Scott enjoyed. He had two computers in the room - one by the wall, a more desktop type of arrangement. The other resting on a leather sofa, more of a laptop. Equipped to the laptop was his most common item of usage.
As Scott booted up the laptop, he grinned as he saw the Chronivac 5.0 Logo as one of the shortcuts included on the screen.
You see, Scott had a "problem". In as far as the rest of the world could tell, he was a thoroughly wholesome athlete. Due to succeed his father, become a successful man in one way or another. But after dark, and indeed only once things got dusky enough, Scott could let it show. He was a transformation addict. Going through at least 3 changes per available night. And tempted every day to try his luck to see if he could conceal the effects of a particularly long transformation through the day.
The idea of sitting in class while covertly transforming gave Scott a potently powerful erection, rising up in his pants. Which shortly were discarded on to the floor, leaving the young man in his tighty-whities. He bit his lip as he opened the Chronivac software on the laptop. While the expenditures weren't too much, he was sure enough through his measures that he wouldn't worry about his completely oblivious parents.
The ointments induced longer stage transformations at lower amounts of application, and faster if he applied more. The Chronivac could give him more or less whatever transformation he wanted - with a set length of transformation, and when he would start his reversion back to normal. Thankfully so far none of the transformations had any kind of side effect. He also made use of a number of change-inducing beers and wines, a couple books with confirmed working spells...anything to get Scott his fix of transformation.
He just had to make sure that by morning time he was nice, presentable, and ready to go to school on time. He couldn't let it slip he was doing all of this. He valued his future too much to endanger it. Let the moronic party animals make fools of themselves, he figured. He was going to enjoy himself with the minimum amount of risk. Sure some of his changes seemed to induce certain changes to his sexuality and presentation, but as long as he was unrecognizable when his new self went out he saw no reason to complain. After all, it was a fresh, interesting experience - and he was confident enough in his straightness to let himself change into a gay man for an hour or two and then return to how he was.
It was all transformation to him. For whatever reason, perhaps some early exposure, he found the sensation of the change and the knowledge he could induce such a shift utterly arousing. Even the more painful shifts never failed to turn him on. He just had to make sure, again, that nobody knew. Hence his choice of dorm.
Letting out a chuckle, Scott took a seat on his bed and thought about what he could do for his night tonight. He looked at the clock. 6:14 - he could probably do a couple changes if he reverted an hour after he finished. He just had to be at school at 10:15 the next morning. Opening the Chronivac software up, Scott contemplated how to go about this. One of the nice things about this software was he could set certain things to be the "last to change".
"Alright, let's see...what am I doing tonight?" He gave his erection a hearty rub as he looked over what he might be able to do...