Brad and Tyler swaggered into the ancient Thai temple, baseball caps askew and board shorts riding low. “Dude, this place is lame,” Brad sneered, flicking his vape pen. “Bet these bald losers haven’t even seen a decent pair of tits.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a wizened old monk materialized from the shadows, his orange robes swirling. He pointed a finger at the startled bros. “You have defiled this sacred space with your ignorance. Come, you must be purified.” Too dumbstruck to argue, they followed him into a hidden chamber, the air thick with fragrant smoke from a smoldering brass incense holder. The monk began to chant, his singsong words worming into their ears, their brains.

“Your chests swell with the ripe fullness of womanhood,” the monk intoned. Brad gasped as an unseen force groped his pecs, the hard muscle softening, ballooning into juddering tits. Beside him, Tyler moaned as his nipples puffed up atop his own blossoming bust.

“All hair retreat from your bodies, skin become silken and smooth,” came the next command. Brad watched in horror as his body hair seemed to suck itself back into his pores, leaving his flesh baby-smooth. A wave of numbness swept over them as every follicle uprooted itself.

“Faces soften, reshape, become docile and pretty.” Tyler squealed as his square jaw rounded, cheekbones lifting, brow smoothing. His nose shrank to a button as his lips puffed into a permanent pout. Beside him, Brad felt his eyes crinkle and tilt up at the corners, his skull pinching into a heart shape.

“Hips swell, waists pinch, buttocks bloom like flowers.” The monk’s guttural chant rose in volume as the Americans’ legs buckled. Muscle sloughed off their thighs only to pack itself onto their ballooning asses. Their narrow boyish hips cracked and spread into fertile cradles. Reality rippled around them as the magic rewrote their genetic code. Beefy necks narrowed, Adam’s apples melting into slender throats. Jaws cracked and reformed, noses flattening, eyes tilting up at the corners. Tyler whimpered as his hair gushed down his back like an oil spill.

But the true horror lurked below. “Cocks and balls shrivel, pussies blossom!” the monk boomed. Brad sobbed as his junk crinkled like an empty balloon, vanishing into his crotch. A deep crease split his groin, unfurling into a hairless slit already drooling with need. Tyler howled as his sack ascended into a fat clit, a new fuckhole forming beneath.

The monk turned to them with glowing eyes. “Forget your barbaric English tongue. Know only the language of the temple!” They cried out as English slipped from their minds like sand in an hourglass, replaced by liquid Thai consonants. Brad tried to protest, and found only Thai came out in a high feminine pitch.

“Shed your filthy male identities. Embrace your rebirth as Daw and Fai, submissive flowers of the temple!” The girls collapsed, memories melting and resculpting themselves around their new names, new roles. Brad and Tyler were dead.

The monk then bared his divine cock, chiseled and upthrust with holy need. “On your knees, daughters of Buddha. Accept your baptism!” Daw and Fai prostrated themselves before him, sobbing with joy, reborn in flesh and spirit as the monk’s bulbous cockhead violated their lips.

With each throat-fucking, each gooey wombful of sacred cum, the monk fucked every smallest possible trace of their past lives out of existence. They squealed prayers of mindless devotion as divine cock pounded their impurity away, ordained them as the temple’s eternal maids. Fucked into enlightenment, the girls finally understood their true purpose, to serve Buddha and the temple with their newly sculpted Thai bodies… forever.