The Perfect Body

Nicky Noxville

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

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And now, our feature presentation…

Session Zero

“What if I told you that I could help you become your perfect self?” My therapist asked from back over my shoulder where I was splayed stereotypically across his couch. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder at him. He was sitting in his well-worn, tan, wingback armchair, his right leg crossed over his left, and his steepled fingers resting against his lips.

“What, like plastic surgery or something?” I asked, waiting in silence for his answer until my neck got too tired and I had to face forward again.

“Or something,” he said mysteriously. “You can’t know too much about it before hand, but I promise that it does work.”

“You mean I won’t have…” I trailed off, the usual red gathering in my cheeks as I thought about my problem.

“Body issues? No, you will be perfectly happy with who you are.

“That sounds… Why just bring it up now?” I whined before I could stop myself.

“Because it is unorthodox and unapproved.”

“What… What is it?”

“I can’t tell you how it works—I’m not completely sure myself—but I have access to a compound that lets you make significant alterations to your physiology through visualization.”


“It lets you imagine the changes you want to make and then make them real,” he said plainly.

“Is that possible.”

“Yes.” The single word answer hung in the air like the fading of a crystal bell.

“Okay,” my whisper barely broke the silence. I heard him rummaging around, and then his hand moved into my field of vision, little, dark amber vial in his hand.

“Drink this,” he said gently. I pulled free the rubber cork with trembling fingers and brought the vial to my lips. This was all beyond the pale, but I’d been seeing Armand for almost a month now, and I trusted him. I tipped it back and let the liquid drain into my mouth.

I’d expected something horrible, something medicinal, but it tasted like… Nothing. There was no flavor, but it did make my tongue tingle and grow warm.

And then my throat.

And then my chest.

My stomach.

My hips.


I gasped and blushed, wide eyed on the couch.

“Alright, a few things. First, and most importantly, DO NOT CUM until you’re happy with the changes.”

“What?” I gasped, incredulous.

“I know, but that’s what makes the changes lock in. You’re going to be really horny, but you can’t cum until you’re ready for the changes to become permanent. This only works once—kind of like how you can only get the chicken pox once.”

That… That made sense.

“So what do I do?” I asked, my head swimming.

“You need to start imagining the changes you want to see in yourself. I would recommend starting off by imagining the perfect body. When you’re laying in bed should be fine, just picture it until you drift off…”

The perfect body?

I was laying in bed wracking my brain. The best I could conjure was a vaguely muscular masculine form. Eyes closed in the dark, I concentrated on it, trying in vain to think of more details to add to it. I reached down under my blankets and absently pushed my erection to the side.

I gasped and flexed my spine. I’d been so horny and swimmy since I drank whatever that stuff was. Forcing my mind back on topic, I went back to picturing the perfect body as I absently squeezed my erection and drifted off to sleep.

Session One

The next morning, I was still horny, but I didn’t look any different. No sooner had my back met the soft cushions of Armand’s couch than I was complaining about it.

“Well, were you picturing the perfect body clearly, with as much detail as possible?” He asked in a reasonable tone.

“I… I guess? No… I’m not sure.” I babbled. “I guess I don’t really know where to start.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I would recommend thinking of a man that you trust, with a body that you’d like enough to use as a starting point, and asking him to help you get started. Can you think of anyone?”

“I don’t really know many… I… Uh…” I trailed off as an idea hit me, but it was so outlandish, maybe even inappropriate, that I couldn’t spit it out.

“It sounds like you’ve thought of someone,” he pointed out.

“I… I guess, maybe… C-could… Could you h-help me?”

“Me?” He asked in astonishment.

“I’m sorry, forget—” I blushed and squeezed my eyes shut.

“No, no, relax, Archer, I’m just flattered that you would trust me enough to let me help you with this,” he explained calmly, and I sighed in relief.


“I’d be more than happy to help.” The chair creaked as he got to his feet. I sat up nervously as he moved into position in front of me, fingers already deftly unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

I watched.

I stared.

The soft fabric parted, his skin a rich brown against the pristine white of the cotton, and his thundering muscles slowly came into view. I stared on, wide eyed.

Who would have guessed my therapist had such a good body?

I blushed at that thought, but kept watching, my eyes sliding up his arms, over his chest, down his abs… I let out a little squeak and skipped over the bulging basket of his boxer briefs, tracing his muscular legs down, and then back up.

“Just focus on what you like,” he instructed, turning to the side and flexing. “Imagine the perfect body, the one that any man would love to have.” He turned around in a slow circle, stopping to face me again. He kept turning, flexing, and giving me a view of every possible angle. It felt like it was only a few minutes before he was putting his clothes back on and telling me that our hour was over.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s best we work every day until the process is complete.”

In bed that night, I found myself laying naked, absently stroking my penis with my thumb and first two fingers as I pictured Armand’s body in my head. The first time I got close to cumming my eyes snapped open, staring upward, unseeing. I jerked my hand away and waited for the urges to subsite before resuming my lazy strokes.

I can’t cum while thinking about my therapist.

Session Two

I’d felt an eager, giddy energy bubbling through me that morning when I climbed out of bed. I’d rushed to the mirror, and, again, saw no difference. Once again, the lack of change was the first thing I brought up.

“Well, I think you’re getting closer. Have you been imagining the perfect body in enough detail? Have you filled in every area?” An affirmative answer was already hovering on my lips when I realized what was missing.

I’d left out everything that had been hidden by his underwear.

“Well,” he burst out when I confessed my omissions, “There’s your problem! You need to fill in all the details.”

“I’m not really sure… I’ve never really paid any attention to any… Just mine,” I finished lamely.

“Ohh,” he said knowingly.

“I want to be… To be good, down there,” I admitted with burning cheeks. “I just don’t know what I should be…”

“Do you want me to help you out again?” He offered calmly. The question hung in the air as my mind raced. Was Armand really going to let me see his penis?

But what was my alternative?

“Yes,” I squeaked. “P-please.”

“Sure thing, Archer, I’m here to help.” He stood up and stepped around to hover over my prone form. He started pulling off his clothes again, and my eyes followed every curve. I could feel the nervous energy bubbling up through my own erection, sending it pressing against the inside of my underwear. He leaned forward to shove his underwear to the floor, and when he stood up I saw, really saw, another man’s penis for the first time.

He was circumcised, like me, but clearly bigger.

A lot bigger.

His penis was outsizing my erection, even flaccid. I almost looked away, embarrassed, but realized that this was my one chance to fill in the gaps in my mental image of the perfect body.

I sighed and let myself stare openly, taking in the thick hair coating his low hanging nuts, and the veins pulsing gently down his shaft. I snapped out of it when he started to turn, bringing his ass into view before moving full circle.

“Do you know how you want it to look when you’re hard?” He asked politely.

“No,” I whispered, but he heard. His hand moved down and started prodding his flesh, sending it surging to life. I stared, astonished anew, as his cock stiffened, lengthened, thickened.

I didn’t know penises could get that big!

“Well, that’s our time for today,” he said, pulling up his pants and removing his cock from my view. Still distracted, I quietly gathered myself and left the office. I could still see it, in my mind, and I was concentrating on keeping it there. I headed straight home, and even though it was only late afternoon, I stripped and climbed into bed, squeezing my eyes shut and concentrating on that perfect body. I tried to imagine my face on it, but it was easier just to leave Armand’s grinning down at me.

Session Three

I hopped out of bed the next morning, once again buzzing with energy, and once again my reflection remained unchanged.

“Well, calm down, let’s see what’s missing,” Armand soothed me as I flopped back onto his couch. “Have you considered how you want to come across to other people?”

“I… What?” I didn’t understand.

“Well, imagine the perfect body standing there, right in front of you,” he instructed. I closed my eyes and let his familiar form materialize, massive erection and all. “Can you see it?”

“Yeah,” I cooed, my dick throbbing in my pants.

“Good, now imagine that you’re at a sorority party. See that perfect body standing in front of you, and imagine how it makes you feel, how it makes you behave.” I thought I understood, but I was still finding it difficult.

“I… I’m not…”

“Do you need help again?” He asked politely.

“Yes, please,” I agreed at once. I heard shuffling as he stood up and stripped, moving back around into view. He started stroking with one hand while he curled his other arm up and flexed.

“Oh!” I gasped in surprise. I couldn’t look away.

“So, how does that perfect body make you feel?” He asked curiously.

“H-horny! It makes me feel horny!” I confessed, blushing.

“Come on, Archie, you can do better than that. You’re a horny slut staring at the perfect body—how does it make you feel?”

“Aww, I feel all gooey inside,” I panted, putting myself in the shoes of one of the horny sluts I’d be fucking any day now.

“Go on,” he encouraged me.

“Like I’m melting, like I n-need something…” I continued to struggle with my articulation as I watched him work his fist up and down his huge cock.

“What do you need?” He pressed.

“Oh,” I sighed, “I need to let him put his penis in me,” I said, getting into character.

“Yeah? That sounds like exactly what a horny slut would need. Where do you need him to put his penis?”

“In..” I cleared my throat. “In my mouth, and…” I cleared my throat again, and then a third time. “And… In my pussy.”

“Oh, yeah, what a hot, horny little slut, huh?”

“Yeah,” I gasped.

“What’s a horny slut like you going to do to let him know that?” He continued, breathing heavy as his own precum made his fist slide slickly up and down with soft, sticky slaps.

I… Uhhhh, I… I’ll—”

“Well, that’s our time,” he cut me off, stuffing his cock back into his pants to an accompaniment of disappointed moans. “Keep working on it, and I’ll see you here again tomorrow.”

Session Four

“You know, I have a good feeling about today,” Armand said optimistically after my now familiar whining about no visible changes. “I think you’re very close to a breakthrough, and I have an idea on how to help you get there. Take off your clothes.”

I gasped and stared upward, wide eyed, but almost immediately started peeling my clothes away. By the time I’d settled onto my back again, he was standing next to me, casually stroking his erection.

“Now, look at me and visualize that perfect body.” I stared at him, panting through parted lips, my own comparatively tiny erection bobbing in the air. “Yeah, think about how good it feels to look at it. I bet a horny slut would be so turned on they’d just start touching themself—yeah, just like that, touch yourself, really let yourself feel what a horny slut would feel when facing the perfect body.” I was grasping my dick with a familiar three fingers, frantically jerking it up and down as I stared at him in awe.

“Ohhhhhh,” I cooed, drool spilling from the corner of my mouth. His muscles bulged as he fisted his meat, sweat glistening on his skin. I could hear his breaths, deep and powerful, and his faint moans. Precum was dripping from the tip of his erection, and I realized that I expected nothing less from the perfect cock.

“Yeah, and just imagine what it looks like when the perfect body cums,” he said, breathing heavy. “Imagine how good it would feel to see cum firing from his cock.”

I was going to cum!

Remembering his warning, I jerked my hand away, leaving my little dick to wiggle and wave in denial.

“Ah, ah, ah!” I panted girlishly.

“How is this perfect body making you feel? Are you a horny slut?”

“Ahhhh, yesssss!” I hissed, just like a horny slut would.

“I bet a horny slut would just start cumming when he saw the perfect body cum, wouldn’t he?”

“Ohhh, yesss!” The more I thought about it, about how good cumming would feel, the more I realized that if he came, I would, too.

And it would feel so good.

“I bet a horny slut would love being showered with cum from the perfect body, wouldn’t you, faggot?” He was right! If I saw him cum, I’d cum too! I wouldn’t be able to help it, I’d squirt right along with him.

“I’m cumming, faggot!” He gasped, and I watched in slow motion as a thick rope of his seed arched into the air, up, up, up to hover over my body before…

Cum splashed onto my skin, hot and filthy. My thighs squeezed together, quivering, and my dick seemed to quiver in place as I tried to keep it from happening.


Keep it from…


Gotta keep it from…




“Ahhhhhhhh!” I squealed in rising pitch “Ohhhhhhhhwwwooooowwwwww!” My own load squirted up in a watery stream, mingling with his thicker load on my torso.

When it was finally over, I stared down at myself, panting.

“B-but, I’m the same!” I whined.

“Are you sure?” He asked, confused.

“Yesss,” I insisted.

“I dunno, were you always a faggot?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m not a faggot!” I protested.

“Are you sure? What did you imagine?”

St-staring up at… At…”

“The perfect body,” he supplied, running the tips of his fingers down his sides.

“Unh,” I groaned. “Y-yes! And looking at him made me hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asked, amused. “Hungry where?”

“My…” I began, my eyes going wide as I realized what I was about to say. “My mouth, and…”

“And?” He asked patiently.

“And my pussy,” I purred breathily.

“I see. And how do you feel now?”

“H—“I began, my breath hitching in surprise as I realized what I was about to say. “Aww, hungry!”

“Where are you hungry?” He asked with a wicked grin.


“Y-y-your?” He prompted.

“My, uhhh, my mouth.”

“And?” He asked.

“And?” I squeaked.

“And.” He commanded.

“Uhh!” I squeaked. “And my…. My…. M-M-my pussy!”

“Sounds like it worked to me.”

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