Musk - Blog Posts

You Have No Choice

I laughed in Jake’s face as he told me I should consider joining the football team. No way was that going to happen. I prefer studying and using my free time to play video games. Every single one of those guys believed in hard work and being social. That just wasn’t how I was built nor what I wanted. “Benjamin, this isn’t a request,” he said to me. The audacity of him trying to bully me into joining was laughable as I turned to leave. Jake’s strong hand grabbed my shoulder, as I turned back to him a rag went over my face. The lockers around me began to fade as I inhaled the sweet aroma. The last thing I remember was him smiling before the hall went dark. 

The pungent aroma of smelling salts awoke me later. It made my lungs burn, I coughed and groaned trying to stand up. I grunted feeling my hands bound tight. “Jake,” I spat. “Let me go I swear to god.” Jake gave me a wicked smile and sat on my chest. He called his team in, one by one they filtered in from every angle. Ice ran through my veins as fear spread throughout my limbs. I wracked my brain watching them file in, trying to figure out if I’d wronged them. My attention was drawn away as a shimmering object swung back and forth. It took a moment to focus on it before I could tell it was Jake swinging the coaches whistle like a pendulum. 

“Benjamin Arthur Wild, you’re feeling sleepy and relaxed.” His voice was monotone, and all I did was laugh. Jake thought they could hypnotize me; what a crock. His teammates forced me to watch it, one held my head still while another forced my eyes to remain open. As I watched it swing back and forth my muscles relaxed and I felt groggy as my body became heavier. The lights in the locker room were getting brighter, blinding me. The last thing I remembered was having nonsense whispered in my ear before losing consciousness. 

Jake watched Benjamin go limp on the bench. “Bring it. He’s ready.” Jake began to whisper plays in Benjamin’s ear using his words to plant a seed deep into his subconscious. “Benjamin, when I snap my fingers you will wake up, but with I give you the commands you will do as you’re told.” He waited until he heard Benjamin murmur an affirmative before snapping his fingers.

Something woke me from a pleasant slumber, my eyes slowly focused staring at the bright lights in the ceiling. Two linebackers started to untie my restraints as Jake watched. “Feeling better?” He asked, as the two linebackers helped me up to a sitting position. I felt out of place and all I could do was just nod while I rubbed my wrists from the restraints. 

“I’m going to go,” I said with a shaky voice, but he said stay, and I felt compelled to stay suddenly. 

“You know Benjamin, your arms are looking a little weak. You should pack on some muscle.” My head lifted when he said muscle. I immediately grabbed the dumbbells sitting right next to the bench doing bicep curls. My muscles ached as I pushed them past their limits. I saw that the weights I was lifting, they weighed far more than I should’ve been capable of handling. Fifty pounds was a lot, Jake realized I was struggling because he asked for someone to bring out the protein powder. 

I saw them mix it up. The chalky mixture was disgusting. I didn’t want to even let it near my mouth, but Jake convinced me by just saying the word drink. No questions asked, I grabbed it and downed it. It was gritty, and my face showed my disgust, but I finished every last drop. The guys smiled seeing I couldn’t resist. I begged for another and downed that one too. There was no stopping myself and it scared me. He commented on my muscles again and I returned to lifting. It felt easier this time. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what was going on and then it hit me. He had done it, he’d hypnotized me. He was using trigger words to get me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. 

I had to stop them. Who knows what else they could do to me. I heard another command telling me to stop. I looked up at Jake seeing a devious grin on his face. “Let me show you why you should join,” he stepped out of my way, allowing me to see myself in the mirror. The meek thin boy I once was gone. My body now filled with lean muscle, my arms defined, and a sculpted chest. I wanted to scream at them, but he gave me another command, harder. I didn’t understand what that meant, but my cock stirred inside my underwear. He said it again, harder. It was starting to hurt as my member pushed against my tight jeans begging to be freed. A couple guys decided to help as they pulled my pants down, my cock flopping out as stiff as a flagpole. Jake squatted down. “Final chance Benjamin. Join now and I’ll let you keep your mind. Fight me and you’ll be overruled.” 

I never thought he would do something like that to me, I had to fight back. I had this new stronger body and I felt like I could use it to break free. I told him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine and he just smiled. “I understand.” He reached out grabbing my cock stroking it. The guys behind me held me down, keeping me from stopping him. I felt the pressure building. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but the look he gave me told me I made the wrong choice. “Don’t worry. You’ll be happy when we’re done Ben.” My eyes went blank and my mind began to dump everything about me, my personality, my quirks, my favorite things. He turned the shorter version of my name into a trigger and it was wiping me clean.

I felt my personality, my likes, my hopes and dreams drained and deposited into the bank that was my balls. He turned the real me into spunk; spunk that he planned to blow from this built body. His hand quickened speed. My body tried to hold onto the last of what is me before giving in. I gasped as “me” blew across the room splattering across the floor. 

Jake looked at the shell of a man. He left the important stuff. All the memories, and lessons Ben would’ve learned in life, but he would rebuild Ben as a brilliant football player. He wouldn’t want to play video games and didn’t mind doing hard work. Ben would be more submissive in the locker room, but a powerhouse out on the field. He started to feed these ideas to the blank slate watching as a new personality overtook Ben until he built him back up. Ben looked up at him with a fierce stare before he returned the same cocky grin. “Bro. I’m ready to get out there and practice. You got my jersey?” Jake smiled as he handed him number 97. The guys left the locker room. Ben stepped in the spunk on the floor not aware that had been him as he headed out with his team to go practice.

A Night at the Kings Theatre

The Kings Theatre had been long abandoned by the city for over half a century, haunted by the memory of that fateful night in 1978. No one knows exactly what happened, but from tragedy arose legend. 143 people entered the auditorium that April night, prepared to see a terrifying new film just recently brought to America out of West Germany. "Der Kuss der Lust" was some sort of return to the German Expressionist Horror of the 1920's, a film scarcely heard of outside art houses in Berlin, and the hapless crowd came in droves. By the end of the showing, the police had arrived, the majority of patrons leaving the theatre in handcuffs or straightjackets. The city never released any information on the event, opting instead to board up the grand building and never speak of the subject again. That is, until 2024.

The group stared up at the Grandiose Marquee, excited for the long awaited return of their neighborhood movie palace. The four of them giddy with anticipation, they each had their tickets in hand: all found mysteriously in their post boxes that morning. Teddy stood with his mouth agape in awe at the sheer beauty of the facade, while Rod, Sabrina, and Pete gossiped amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it was literally in my mailbox this morning." Sabrina's characteristic monotone delivery making the two boys snicker.

"Girl I can tell you're sooo excited." Rod rolling his eyes at his roommate, well acquainted with her stoic persona. Pete stood looking down at his phone, trying to browse the theatre website to see what film they were about to be subjected to.

"All it says on here is 'Grand Opening Event.' It doesn't say what movie it is. OH! I bet it's that new one we've been seeing trailers all over the place about! The one with Ryan Gosling and Ross Lynch necking while Jennifer Coolidge just sits there!" Pete's boisterous and brash demeanor yet again shining through. A lack of volume control was a typical symptom of his theatre gay archetype, but nothing his friends were unprepared for.

"Shhhh. Look, they're letting people in!" Teddy hushed his little group, pointing to the tall gentleman at the door, now checking ticket stubs as the patrons slowly trickled inside. Teddy was merely along for the ride, roped into the outing by Rod, who was continuously concerned with his homebody lifestyle. "So we don't know what we're watching tonight, huh?" The three others shrugged.

"Does it really matter? It's something to do, Teddy..." Sabrina scoffing under her breath as they slowly inched toward the front doors. Teddy looked at the ticket man up ahead, his eyes sunken in and hunching over the audience members like Frankenstein's Monster.

"I bet he's in character for the movie! I've heard about this in class. They used to have all the staff act all spooky and improv with the crowd to get them in the mood for the movie! I bet it's a horror movie then!" Pete's enthusiasm was not exactly reciprocated as the boys shrugged and Sabrina rolled her eyes. Teddy felt a twinge of foreboding as they approached the towering man, each handing him their tickets. He stared at the group for a moment, the four tickets just hanging loosely from his grey fingers.

"Uh, are we good to go?" Rod stared at the man, whose head slowly turned down to meet his gaze before a demented grin crawled across his decrepit face. He bowed dramatically, waving his arm to usher them into the building, not a single utterance leaving his blue lips.

"Wow, impressive acting. Let's go, boys." Sabrina pushed the three through the open brass doors, Teddy's gaze having a hard time breaking with the strange man. His grin seemed to melt away almost instantly, returning to stonefaced indifference as he attended to the group behind.

"What the fuck was that?" Teddy turned to his group, Rod the only one taking the time to even acknowledge his query.

"Listen, they're just gettin' you in the mood! Like Pete was saying! Lighten up, man. I promise we'll take you home right after this, and you don't have to come out until next week. And we're doin' karaoke baby!" Rod nudged Teddy, whose response was a coy smile as he stared at his feet. He didn't want to be there, but for the sake of his friends he was making an effort.

The lobby was bright and opulent, the Beaux-Arts architecture perfectly coordinating with the beautiful exterior. Heavy red velvet drapes hung between the marble columns, a grand staircase likely bringing folks to the mezzanine, and a modest but well stocked concessions stand stood in the middle of the room. Historic film posters hung prominently against the walls: Casablanca, Dracula, Gone with the Wind, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte, Rebel Without A Cause, Rebecca... all with bold 'COMING SOON' stickers plastered against the glass displays.

"I guess they're doing a whole retro movies vibe! Ooh! I wanna come back to see James Dean on the Silver Screen!" Pete jumped excitedly at the prospect, running over to the poster to take a picture as Sabrina walked to concessions to get popcorn. Rod and Teddy stood there, just admiring the grandeur of the space before the chandeliers began to flicker rather ominously.

"I think that means we need to find our seats." Teddy turned to look at Rod, who was squinting at the tickets to see what seat they'd all been assigned.

"We're in something called MEZ? What the fuck does that mean?" Teddy snatched the ticket, pointing to the top of the stairs in response.

"It means mezzanine, we're upstairs." Teddy motioned to Pete to rejoin them just as Sabrina returned with a gigantic barrel of buttery popcorn, munching away. The group ascended the stone stairs, avoiding brushing against the eager spectators as they rushed to their seats.

The auditorium was equally as grand. A massive brass chandelier hung prominently above the house, boxes lining the sides of the walls above row after row of velvet seats. The group made their way to their rows: Rod and Sabrina in row 3, Pete and Teddy in row 2 immediately in front. They took their seats as the vintage concessions ad played on the massive screen. Teddy heard Rod and Sabrina bickering about roomie problems he cared nothing about, as Pete blathered on about the history of the anthropomorphic dancing popcorn box. The mood in the room was one of excitement, of anticipation, yet for Teddy... it was off. The air felt stale and stagnant, the uncanniness of the movie palace long after it's prime seemed to hang differently in his mind. It felt like a time capsule, a liminal space where time had just frozen still, waiting to swallow it's naive visitors. Perhaps it was just the social anxiety, as Rod would likely dismiss it as. Yet, for whatever reason, Teddy sat on edge and alert. The lights began to dim, and a hush fell over the auditorium as previews began to roll for the films advertised in the lobby.

"Ooooooh! Bela Lugosi was so hot. Like seriously." Pete chimed with his typically chipper demeanor, stealthily stealing a handful of Sabrina's popcorn from behind him as they whispered deep in their argument. "Like can you even blame her for falling for him? I mean come on." Teddy just nodded along, peering around him at the crowd of exceedingly normal people watching the old trailer with glee.

The trailers ended with the screams of Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland; Hush, Hush Sweet Charotte ending it's preview as the room was flooded in blackness. Teddy swore he could faintly hear whispers emanating from all around him in the dark cavern, before the room was once again illuminated as the black and white title card brightly shone on the canvas screen. The words were in a strange font, clearly not in English.

"Durr kusss durr loost... Ahh shit is this some kind of foreign film?" Sabrina sighed and reclined back into her chair, taking solace in the handfuls of popcorn she'd been shoveling into her mouth. Teddy recognized none of the actors names as they quickly flashed before his eyes, nor could he understand any of the words in the opening credits. He didn't speak German, but he couldn't wait to rub the hiccup in Rod's face: yet another social outing turning out completely unintended. Thankfully, as the camera opened onto some old Baroque village, as dialogue began, he was relieved to see English subtitles scurrying at the bottom of the screen.

He struggled to keep up with the narrative, as the translation may have been rather poor to begin with, instead opting to focus on the increasingly strange sets these actors were traversing. From what he could tell, there was a nobleman of some sort who found a village woman he'd fallen in love with. The book was promising powers of love beyond human comprehension, and in his hubris, the nobleman tries to cast a spell of lust on the beautiful young woman.

"I mean look at the set design, it's giving Nosferatu. NO! Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.... Oooh it's so cool!" Rod nudged Pete with his shoe, shushing him as neighboring patrons shoot dirty looks in their direction. Teddy became completely enveloped in the bizarre imagery rather quickly. The film was almost dreamlike in quality, walls seemed to jut out in different directions, the lighting was dim at best and only illuminating essential props or entrances and exits for characters. The sounds of the auditorium slowly faded away into the periphery, and all that could be perceived was the muffled voices of the actors.

Time was not a consistent factor in the film, it just meandered from scene to scene, with disconcerting Dutch angles increasing dread at every turn. What felt like one minute could easily have been twenty, but fortune momentarily smiled on the encapsulated young man. Teddy felt his stomach rumble, momentarily breaking him from his trancelike state to reach behind him into their popcorn bowl. He'd fully expected a wrist slap from Sabrina, but after three or four handfuls of popcorn, that moment never came. This moment of sheer confusion pulled him out of his tunnel vision, if only to reassure Sabrina that he'd pitch in for the popcorn. As he turned around, he was met with a sight he never could have ever imagined.

Sabrina's head was turned toward Rod, and for a moment, Teddy thought they were just whispering to eachother, continuing their asinine argument over who ate the pickle chips the night before. Though as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room around him, it became clearer just what it was they were doing. Her lips were planted firmly on Rod's, his left hand slowly sliding up her thigh. Teddy quickly swiveled his head back to the screen, eyes wide with shock. Rod was a flaming queer, just as he was and just as Pete was. Sure, Sabrina was straight, but he couldn't imagine her boyfriend being thrilled at the sight of Rod necking her in a movie theatre.

"Dude! Look at their facial expressions! You don't even need subtitles, you just need to see their faces!" Pete's voice hummed distantly, being completely ignored by all around him, doing little to aid Teddy's growing discomfort. The sounds of wet, sloppy kissing began to ring out from behind him, their breaths shallow and low. Teddy's eyes darted around him, the faded outlines of the other patrons not getting any clearer, nothing but the film there to distract him. Especially as the sounds of comingling tongues abruptly came to an end, only to quickly be replaced by another more terrifying sound.

*Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* "Ahhhh yeah, baby..." It was unmistakable. That was Rod... With each stifled moan, every snarling growl and wet slurp, he could hear his friend's voice growing lower and lower. His growls becoming louder... rougher... more animalistic. Teddy stared forward, beads of sweat starting to seep out of his forehead as he listened to the two most ill-matched people get it on directly behind him. He heard their pace quicken, Sabrina's slurps turning into gags as he heard more bizarre sounds arising from behind. Creaking... The sound of shifting leather, or maybe it was tearing fabric... Or the sound of an inflating balloon... Teddy felt his breath start to quiver, as he looked down between the armrests, seeing Rod's Chuck Taylors start to wriggle and writhe. His eyes widened, seeing the black canvas fabric start to flush white, growing larger and larger. He recognized the Nike symbol starting to protrude from the sides of the sneaker, and as Rod's voice growled into an enraptured release, the Converse were now a pair of large, beat up AirForce1's, covered vulgarities written in black Sharpie. Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, Sabrina giggling as he heard the sound of a waistband snapping back to place. It was silent for a moment, Teddy too nervous to look behind him, but desperately wanting to know what happened to his friends.

"Ahhhhhhh yeah, babe." There was a thud, Teddy peering down to his right and seeing the gigantic sneaker resting on his arm rest. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned his head. There, leaning forward with his hands on his head was Rod- or at least, someone that once was Rod. The tall, skinny little gay boy he'd befriended had been replaced with a gigantic, tattooed man. His hair cropped short, his muscles bulging, his shirt sitting on his thigh below his exposed torso now adorned with thick silver chains.

"Huhu, my bad, bro. When duty calls, am I right?" Rod grabbed onto his monstrous bulge, hiding behind the cum stained fabric of his white shorts. Teddy felt the blood rush from his head at the very sight of it. He watched as Sabrina, now equally scantily clad with tattoos, jet black hair, and devious grin mischievously slithered her hand beneath his waistband, grabbing ahold of his thick cock and slowly pumping. Rod winked at Teddy, turning again to Sabrina and kissing her once again.

Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, mortified and terrified in equal measure. He looked around him yet again, only seeing once again the dim outlines of the other patrons completely enveloped in the film before them. He turned behind him, doing his best to ignore the slimy sound of Rod's handjob to see the doors had staff members blocking each exit.

"Fuuuuuuck, bro. This shit is tight. Lemme tell you, man. I need this shit on Netflix." Teddy ignored Pete's typical unwarranted commentary, peering down over the house to see if the patrons below were also... different. Through the dark haze of the auditorium, he received his answer. The vast majority of the audience was completely enraptured with the film, not so much as flinching as they watched the nightmarish visions on screen. However, he'd started to notice the dim outlines of a couple people leaning in toward eachother. He couldn't pry his eyes away, so Teddy could only watch as he saw the patrons start to grope, kiss, and go down on eachother. A couple up front necking in the first row, two guys sliding their hands into eachother's pants in box 5, a group of what he'd assumed were bachelorettes just sliding their hands over eachother's breasts.

"Pete... Pete, we gotta get the fuck out of here." Teddy whispered to his friend, not taking his eyes off of the filth that was unraveling around them. Three seats over, one man was now bent over the railing of the balcony, three other men taking turns railing him right there in public to no outcry whatsoever. Teddy whipped his head toward Pete, still intently watching the film. "Pete! Pete, let's go!" He grabbed onto his wrist, feeling a strange rubbery texture tightly wrapped around it. He looked down, watching in terror as his friend's pristine watch slowly warped beneath his hands. Tightening until all that was left were three rubber bracelets in bright vivid colors.

Teddy's gaze slowly rose from his friend's hand as his fingernails slowly turned black. The rotund theatre gay was rapidly losing mass. His tight sweatervest growing looser and looser before his eyes. Fat seemed to shrink into nothingness as the sleeves of his shirt began to slowly rise up the length of his arms.

"Dude... I feel kinda funky, bro." The typical chipper demeanor was slowly vanishing, his eager eyes began to droop, as his short brown hair started to grow. The dark brown hairs quickly were flushed with a wash of bright blonde as it snaked out of his scalp down to the nape of his neck in sweaty, messy curls. His jawline was sharpening, his lips getting plump and thick.

"Pete... PETE!" Teddy screamed at the top of his lungs, not a single patron even flinching at the toil in his voice. "HELP! SOMETHING IS WRONG! SOMETHING IS VERY VERY WRONG!" Teddy shot up out of his seat, his ankle painfully hitting something hard. He peered down to see a heavily used skateboard resting under his friend's feet, absentmindedly rolling side to side as his loafers warped quickly into large, well worn white Vans. Teddy clamped his hand over his mouth as he followed the shifting clothes, up the khakis turning tight and ripped against lean thighs, up to the growing bulge and wet patch bulging out of his groin, up to the studded belt tightly wrapped around his lean waist.

"Heheh..." Pete's voice was growing duller, more coarse as the scent of sweat and cannabis began to waft off him. His sweatervest and shirt shrinking into a sweat stained white tee shirt, and as Teddy's gaze finally fell on Pete's face... he knew he was gone.

"Broooo this shit is sick... Oooh, man. I got a j in my pocket, man. I'll let you hit it if you let me..." Pete's fingers inched toward his belt buckle, slipping under the fabric of his jeans. "C'mon bro. Don't let Rod be the only one gettin' some dick attention tonight." He winked through the colored sunglasses hiding the red, stoned eyes behind.

"I..." Teddy nervously stood there as Pete unbuckled his pants, his twinky, sweaty hand sliding down into his underwear and wrapping around his slowly growing cock.

"Yeah, bro... Come let Petey take care of this." Teddy was lost in a moment of bliss as Pete slowly and tenderly stroked his cock in his pants, igniting the joint between his lips as he pumped.

"Whuh.... Wait... I uh... I need to go to the bathroom. Really bad. I'll be back, just give me a minute..." Pete smirked, letting his hand retract from Teddy's groin.

"Well, don't be too long, bro. My throat is waitin' for ya. Heheh." He stuck out his long tongue with a vulgar whip. Teddy wasted no time bolting toward the door, realizing only as he was chest to chest with the decrepit usher that the restrooms were merely to his right and left. The creepy man flashed the same unhinged smile, not budging an inch. Teddy burst into the men's room, leaning against the ceramic pedestal sink and peering into the mirror. He flipped the faucet, water flowing from the tap as he splashed it against his face. Then, he heard it. The creaking of leather. He looked down at his feet in horror as the New Balance sneakers he sported started to quiver and undulate.

"No... Noo... NOOO." He vigorously splashed his face with the cold water, rubbing his face like a maniac. It was only then that he started to feel the roughness around his upper lip and jaw. He couldn't bring himself to look into the mirror, as he felt hair sprout below his nose and stubble poking around his sharpening jawline. He could only peer down as he slowly began to accept his fate. The sneakers quickly stretched wide and big, a scuffed black leather replacing the grey suede as they shifted into a pair of heavy black harness boots.

His breath grew shallow and rapid, watching his sweatpants suction in tight around his inflating calves and thighs, turning slick and black. The comfortable grey Champion sweats were nearly skintight now, as if painted on atop his lengthening legs. The bottoms slipped into his boots and fastened beneath the damp fabric of his black socks, and the shiny black leather pants began to creak as his own bulge started to grow round and distended. Teddy gasped for air as he felt his shaft stretch out, a foreskin creeping over the head of his weeping cockhead, seeping into the sweat and cum inundated jockstrap now around his waist and thick ass.

"Ohhh... fuuuuuuuck." His fingernails turned black as tattoos began to sprawl from his knuckles up his swelling arms. The sweatshirt he wore felt tighter and tighter as his shoulders broadened and his torso stretched upward, taking on a lighter tone as little tears started to appear around the collar and along the seams. "Unnnnnnnnff" His voice started to dip lower and lower as the heavy sweatshirt's sleeves retracted in toward his shoulders. He felt himself sweating, wiping the sweat from his lowering brow and brushing the now frosted blonde tips of his mullet to the side. He looked at his hands, undeniably his own, yet completely unfamiliar; watching them as they slowly slipped lower toward his throbbing cock. He pulled up his weathered, well loved white tank top, the intricate ink across his rippled abs begging him to go lower and lower, his head throwing itself back as his fingers slipped into his creaking leather pants.

"Brooooooo you in here? What, didja fall in?" As he heard Petey's stoned ass voice echo off the tiled walls, he turned his head as he groped his slimy cock in his pouch. His three friends, vaguely familiar now, all sauntered in looking at him with knowing smirks. "Awww, Theo. I told ya not to get started without me."

Theo leaned on the sink, groping himself with a devilish smirk, beckoning his favorite throat goat to come gobble up his musky rod. Petey took a hit off the joint, handing it to Sabrina before getting on his knees before their bisexual bad boy. He opened his maw, Theo knowing right away what to do as he spit in Petey's eager mouth, and pulled out his throbbing dick. As the skater expertly wrapped his lips around his manhood, Theo turned to Rod and Sabrina, winking. Rod grinned.

"Yeah, boy. Gimme summa that, no homo though, bro." The 6'5 basketball stud sauntered over to his bro, planting a wet kiss onto Theo's supple, cigarette stained lips. As Sabrina took Rod's monstrous cock into her mouth, the four of them fucked in the bathroom surrounded by the stench of sex. Swapping partners at the drop of a hat, sucking face and dick with no hesitation, worshipping Theo & Rod's big smelly feet or railing Petey's tight little hole while Sabrina ate out Theo's sweaty rear. By the time the Usher came in to tell them the film was over, buckets of cum were splattered over the walls, floor, ceiling, and friends.

"Heh, c'mon guys. We can continue this back at my place." Theo wrangled his little posse of fuck buddies out of the bathroom, past the outrageous orgy slapping about in the auditorium. The four walked out of the Kings Theatre, stinking of cum and sweat in the night air, knowing fully well they'd be returning soon enough.

Ever since Ryan was gifted a pair of HIMBOCO’s newest earbuds, he has lost total control of his life. He no longer had to think or make decisions. He just had to do what they told him to do. He had to workout. He had to flex. He had to get musky. He had to fuck. He had to obey.

Drip.

Wade peered through his large glasses at the murky white-ish liquid falling from his ceiling into the bucket.

Drip

He gave a sigh of annoyance as his expensive gaming laptop whirred to life, grumbling about having to call maintenance and however much he was paying for this place.

Drip.

Wade’s nose wrinkled as a slight whiff of BO reached his nose. “Ugh” he shivered, reaching his arm up to check his pit. Dry. Huh. Wade turned back to his laptop, typing the first line of his email before—

Drip.

The sound echoed off the bare walls as the smell assaulted him again. “What the hell?” Wade turned around again and set his laptop on the desk, peering into the bucket.

Drip.

Wade gagged as another wave of that god awful BO stench hit him in the face, but then he paused, staring down at the murky off-white liquid slowly filling the bucket.

Drip.

He sniffed again, breathing a little deeper. The smell had become more intense as the bucket began to fill up and—

Drip.

His brow furrowed as he let a little more of the smell in, the bucket beginning to smell like a locker room or a runner’s pit on a hot summer day. "W-Wait" Wade stammered. How did he know what that would smell like?

Drip.

The odor made his eyes flutter slightly as he stared down at the bucket, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Drip.

“Mmmm” Wade breathed deeply, his mind blurring at the edges. It was becoming harder to think the more of the manly musk he let in. He blinked, feeling the front of his jeans tent slightly, his vision going dark…

Drip. Drip. Drip….

“Ahh! Wade shot awake. How long had he been here? His mind darted, it was dark outside now.

Drip.

His eyes peered back at the bucket, now half full, gagging again at the smell, posters now peeling off the walls, the surfaces slick with some sort of liquid.

“Agh!” Wade brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit as he raced to the door, jiggling the slick handle only to find it locked.

“W-what…” Wade started to panic as the fuzziness began to return to his mind, turning slowly to face the leak.

Drip.

Wade breathed deeply, letting the scent of a hundred sweaty jockstraps enter him, the wave of stench sending him to his knees. His vision blurred as his mouth hung open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the fumes sent a shock through his body, causing his member to tent his pants, straining against the denim.

Drip. Drip.

He moaned as he unzipped his jeans, letting his throbbing erection spring free as he shucked his shirt and jacket, throwing them across the room.

Drip.

As the stench of stale sweat washed over him, his mind melted into the puddle of musk. His eyes rolled involuntarily as his head lolled back, his dick already dripping with precum.

Compelled by some force, the nerd began to pull his pale, thin body across the floor towards the bucket, with each breath feeling like he was inhaling a locker room’s worth of ripe, cheesy musk.

His hand gripped the bucket, bringing the rim to his nose and inhaling the fumes, moaning into the rim as his body shook. His eyes fluttered again as his hand gripped his cock as he began to stroke.

It was impossible for him to think, the only thing he could feel was the smell, his mind becoming mush.

He couldn't stop his hand, his strokes speeding up as the scent of musk filled his mind, his hand moving faster and faster, the scent filling him with a primal urge, his body writhing on the floor, his mind a blurry mess as he stroked himself faster, his mind lost to the musky aroma.

Despite the small part of his brain telling me not to, Wade knew what to do, reaching out his tongue to catch one of the drops.

Drip.

Instantly, his body was wracked with heat. Wade fell back onto the floor as sweat began to pour out of his pores as if he had just finished a long, grueling game in the heat. His glasses were quickly coated in a layer of steam, making the world around him blurry.

He didn't care.

Wade continued to stroke himself, his body tensing as his hands moved faster and faster, the sensation building up in his abdomen.

Drip.

More. He needed more. More of that intoxicating smell. Wade pulled himself across the floor towards the bucket, lifting himself so his lips could lap up the sweaty droplets.

The taste was incredible.

Wade's eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as the taste of the pure, unadulterated musk exploded across his tongue. His hand pumped his cock faster and faster as he lapped at the bucket. He could barely think, the taste sending him over the edge.

Wade let out a loud moan as his body began to shake, the smell sending his body into overdrive. He could barely hear his own screams of pleasure over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, as he started to feel his body change.

His arms were the first to feel the effects. The skinny limbs started to bulge, his muscles growing larger, thicker, and stronger. Wade could barely notice, his mind lost in the smell. His body was shaking, his back arching as his torso expanded, his stomach becoming rock hard, his pecs becoming two firm mounds, his shoulders becoming broader.

Drip.

Wade continued to moan as he felt his chest grow heavier, his pecs growing into large, round melons. He could barely think, the sensation was so overwhelming. He couldn't stop stroking, his cock continuing to grow, his balls becoming two large, swollen orbs. His hair was plastered to his head, the sweat dripping from his body.

He could feel his body changing, his muscles growing, his ass becoming rounder, his hips becoming wider. His cock continued to grow, his balls becoming larger and larger, until they were obscene and drooping.

Drip.

Wade was a sweaty, writhing mass on the floor, his body shaking, his cock leaking precum. His hair was plastered to his face, growing longer and unkempt as the sweat poured down his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out.

Drip.

Wade groaned and whimpered as more drops began to fall from the ceiling, landing on his chest and causing his muscles to clench, his back arching. The sweat dripped down his face, his neck, his chest, his back, his arms, his legs, his feet, his toes, his fingers.

Drip.

Every drop caused his muscles to spasm, his body convulsing, his cock leaking more precum. His pecs were so large, he could barely see over them. His ass was so round, he couldn't even sit properly.

Drip.

His entire body was covered in sweat, his entire body dripping with it. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock twitching.

Drip.

He moaned and whimpered as his face cracked and changed, becoming model-like, his glasses breaking and falling to the floor.

Drip.

He groaned, the scent sending his mind into overdrive, his body twitching and convulsing. His muscles were so large, they were bursting through his clothes.

Drip.

Every muscle in his body was on fire, his body drenched in sweat. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by the scent.

Drip.

He gasped as he felt his mind go blank, his body shaking as he came. His orgasm was so powerful, his balls contracted, forcing the cum to spurt out of his cock. The force was so great, the stream of cum flew through the air, covering the room.

Drip.

"Ah!" Wade gasped as the drops fell onto his skin, sending waves of pleasure through his body, his cock spraying his seed all over the room.

Drip.

The drops kept falling, causing Wade's orgasm to continue, his body shaking. He could barely think, his mind was swimming as all paths of higher thought were permanently wiped away, replaced by an unending desire to bury himself in the pits and crotches of sweaty men. His hair grew out, becoming blonde and shaggy, signifying his permanent change.

Drip.

It was not for hours that he finally left the house; but the Wade who walked in would never return.

Horizons

It was some fuck shit, man. Hiding behind a dumpster, pantin' through my balaclava... I can't believe that little shit ratted on me to the fuckin' cops. Picture this. I'm in that fucker's car, a beautiful Aston Martin, just about done hotwiring it. I was literally three fuckin' seconds away from getting the hell out of there, with a sick new ride. But no, that stupid fuckin' rat let me in the gate, watched me hop in the car, and then called the fuzz. Thought he'd be able to just pocket the two grand I paid him off with, but believe me. Karma is a bitch.

So by the time I had the car ready to go, I hear the fuckin' pigs squealin' at me. The whole nine yards, man. Guns drawn, "put your hands up," blah blah blah. Fuck that shit. I took the fuck off, hoppin' over the fence and just cutting through people's backyards. Man, they had a whole perimeter set up. Cops on every major street corner, watchin for my big bird lookin' ass decked out in black. On a side note, I looked hot as fuck by the way. Not gonna lie, the kicks were fresh as fuck. But either way, there was no way I was gonna get back to the docks without being seen. So I had to fall back onto plan B.

I snuck through alleys, hid behind trashcans and corners, but I knew my trashy ass apartment was just around the corner. Plus, if that little fucker told them who I was, they'd be looking for Thiago Zapata at his place, right? Only thing is, I wasn't gonna go to my place. I moved into the building like three months ago, so I got to know the neighbors pretty alright. The old lady across the hall, the streetracer to the left, and to the right were Chase & Aidan. Two little cocksuckers. Aidan was alright, built like a fuckin' blonde twig but always real happy and nice. He was cool, but his man was another story. Chase was one of those little trust fund bitches, thinkin' they own everything, thinkin' you should be thankful to just be around them... I made all my money snatchin' shit from fuckers just like him. Always lookin' me up and down, questioning my swag, complaining about the smoke, complaining about the music; bro, he literally came up and was like "Do you bathe? I can smell you from next door." Fuckin' bitch ass. I decided then and there, if a plan should ever go wrong, I now had a plan B.

So as I bolted across the street, hiding stiff as a board behind a tree, I finally made it to the shithole that was my building. No cops outside yet, but from the sirens I knew they were on the fuckin' way. I checked my phone, seein' the time was just before 10 PM. The universe was on my side that night man, I guess it was as fuckin' fed up with Chase as I was. I got upstairs and hid in the janitor's closet right between my door and theirs, and I waited. I knew he always came home late from whatever the fuck he did every Saturday night, and that Aidan would be sitting there waiting for him like a lil' puppy. I almost felt bad for the guy. Not knowing what it's like to stick your dick in some good fuckin' pussy, and then for the guy you give it up for to be such a piece of shit. I'm doing him a favor, bro.

I heard the footsteps comin' up the stairs, so I opened the door just a crack, in case it was the fuckin' pigs about to break into my place. But no, there he was in that whack ass outfit, lookin' like he lived at Abercrombie & Fitch, struttin' down the hall probably drunk as shit. I waited for him to get close to the closet, and just as he stumbled right in front of the door, I got him. Left hand around the mouth, right arm around the neck. He thought he could wriggle out of the whole thing, but man was it easy to drag the little fucker into my apartment and lock the door. He could barely stand up, sniveling like the little weasel he was, but when I took off my mask his face turned from fear to rage.

"I knew it. I knew this is the kind of street trash you are. Is that why the cops are circling the block every five seconds?" I didn't say shit. I just kicked off my J's, and tossed my bag onto the floor. "See, this is why we need border control, so thugs like you can get shipped back to Mexico. Fucking fence jumper." I stripped my hoodie, wouldn't need it for what I was about to do.

"Bruh, you know I'm from fuckin' Colombia. You know that. Racist little pendejo." That little shit scoffed at me. Rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone. Man, I smacked that shit out his hands real fuckin' quick. "Be a good little cumdump and shut the fuck up. Turn around, bitch!" I spun him around and pushed his bitch ass against the wall, but before I could do what I needed to, that little fucker spat on my face.

"Hope you like Guantanamo, amigo." I was like, nah, fuck this shit. I'm not takin' that from a 5'9 rich, racist gringo. He was gonna be tight as fuck, but I've been in tighter squeezes. I got his pants by the belt loop, and yanked 'em down. He wriggled his ass in my face, as if he was gonna get lucky tonight. Heh, I guess he did. Just like I did back in New Orleans, I squatted down, put my hands together, and in I went with a wet squelch. "What the fuck?!"

I looked at his stretched hole, swallowing my arms up to my fuckin' elbows. I couldn't help but smile as I started to wriggle up into him. His bitchin' quickly turned into moanin', as my arms squeezed up in him, and my head started to sink into the hole. I slithered up inside him, my shoulders, my lats... it got easier as we got down to my waist, enough for my hands to feel inside of his shoulders. I pushed 'em down, my thick arms stretching his skin as I slipped his hands on like gloves. Feelin' the cold drywall beneath his fingers, the sweat pouring from his pores... they were mine now. So as much as I wanted this little fuck to suffer, I was feelin' generous that night. My arms were already in his, so it was easy to just hold the top of his curly haired head and thrust mine up his throat. I could hear his gurgles as he tried to moan in pleasure, but within a couple of seconds, I felt the top of my head pressin' against the roof of his mouth. One more little push, and it gave way. My head slipped into his in the blink of an eye.

I used his hands to tug on his face, makin' sure everything was sittin' where it needed to sit. Didn't wanna be lookin' like the bug guy from Men in Black, you know what I'm sayin'? Took a minute, had to shove my tongue into his, make sure my eyes lined up, get my ears inside his; feelin' my hoops rip through his skin, I opened my new mouth and breathed in. Man, I had to smile, lickin' his lips and lookin' down. Fuck I'm glad his arms stretched enough for mine, the lil' cocksucker needed a bit of meat on him. My pecs filled out his skinny lil' chest, my ink already seepin' up to the surface of his skin. But at that point he looked like a puppet, man. I'm up in the top half, but my ass and legs are stickin' out his hole.

I flexed my abs, feelin my fat ass squeezin' in, my cock and balls slurpin' in... Bro, his twiggy little butt got big real fuckin' quick when my cheeks inflated into his. My thighs and calves quickly slipped in, only leavin' my big ass feet stickin' out his ass. I smirked with his cocky lil face.

"Aww. I forgot to bathe, bro. My bad." Shit, his voice sounded good on me. Can't imagine he'd be into the feet he complained about stinkin' so fuckin' much squeezin' into his tight lil' body. Not that he was gonna be complainin' anymore, anyway. They were a bit sweaty, so all I had to do was jerk my knees up a bit and in they went. I pushed my legs down into his, watchin' with a big ass smile on my face as I saw my feet beneath his the skin of his tiny lil' legs slippin' down. My toes reached the base of his heel, and just like puttin' on a pair of sneaks, I shoved those big ass puppies up into his. His feet were all wriggly and warpy as they stretched out, but quickly those lil size 8's were my size 13's, ripe stink and all.

I stood up straight, watching as his lower body stretched upward, going from 5'9 to 6'3 as my quads and calves filled his to the fuckin' brim. Man, it was like puttin' on skinny jeans. I don't fuck with that shit, but here we are. The tightest pair of pants ever. I looked at his groin, all fucked up and not aligned. I smirked, my favorite part. I grabbed his cock, pulling it out as far as it would stretch, farther than it should stretch; just enough for me to push my cockhead to the base of his shaft. Bruh, when I tell you it's like slippin' your babymaker into a fleshlight, I fuckin' mean it. I got hard right then and there, bro. As my big meaty cock pushed into his, it got thicker as it went further, slurpin' into the little cocksleeve it was, until my musky 9 incher had completely filled his. Tuggin' a bit more on his dick skin to gimme my foreskin back. One final snap of the skin, and a bit of ball shufflin' and I was fuckin' in.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* "Police, open up!" I turned, smirkin'. Too late, porkers. I picked up my black hoodie, slippin' it on over his torso, pulled on some sweatpants and slipped my big puppies back into my J's. I walked over to the door, and swung it wide with a grin on my face. Two cops were outside, starin' me down with confusion. "Uh, good evening, sir. Is this Thiago Zapata's domicile?" I pretended to be all confused, cockin' my head a bit.

"Uh, yeah, man. I'm watchin' it while he's gone. He said he was gonna be in Cartagena for a couple of weeks or whatever. I'm the neighbor." The dumbasses just nodded, scribblin' in their dumb lil' notepads.

"And what's your name, sir? First and last, please." Not a moment too soon, I felt his memories start to slink into my head. I smirked.

"Chase Hightower. I live with my boyfriend in 2C, next door." They wasted like fifteen more minutes gettin' all up in my business, askin' all their questions... I just smiled and nodded, using Chase's memories to give them all the answers they were looking for. Finally they gave up trying to get in, sayin' they were gonna get a warrant or whatever. "That's totally fine, bro. I'll be next door whenever it comes through. Oh, and I just gotta say, Thiago's a good dude. Real nice guy, fine as fuck too. Gotta be some kind of mistake." I had to throw that in, this little shit would be tellin' them all sorts of fake shit about me, none of it good. But as they stomped off, I closed the door and threw my fist up in the air. "FUCK YEAH! NICE TRY MOTHERFUCKERS!" I collapsed onto my couch, takin' a breather before his most recent memories started to get clearer. Aidan was sitting next door, waiting for him to show up.

I had to keep up appearances, after all. So I just grabbed a couple of my things: clothes n' shit, all my kicks, my weed and papers, some cash, and a couple of condoms. Chase was a good lookin' kid before, but with me in there, I'm gonna have girls slobberin' all over this dick! Hah! I got it all in a couple of bags, picked up his phone I'd swatted to the ground, and headed over to Chase's apartment. I opened the door and the place was fuckin' immaculate man. Clean, fancy furniture, smellin' like Febreeze... Damn, we'll see how long this takes to fuck up.

"CHASE!" I turned, seeing Aidan with his arms crossed, tappin' his foot on the kitchen floor. He was fuckin' pissed. "Where in the fuck have you been? There's cops everywhere!" The cops may not have known Chase, but Aidan sure as fuck did. I had to really use his memories to play it off, but man, I'm always slippin' through the mask.

"Ahh, babe. It's my bad. Got stuck in traffic or... whatever. I'm so..." A memory surfaced then and there. The memory of why Chase was so late that night, of why he came home late every fuckin' Saturday night. It was fuzzy at first, but as it got clearer, I saw him fuckin' some dude raw across town. Every weekend, steppin' out on this poor kid, just to dump his load into some lil twink and come home to pretend nothin' was wrong. Fuck, this guy was shit. "I'm... sorry. Won't happen again, babe. I promise you that."

Right off the bat, I knew he saw something was wrong. I don't know if it was delayed reaction, or if he was just so fuckin' pissed he didn't see it at first... But he definitely saw it then. His boy wasn't over 6'0 before. His boy wasn't dressin' in black hoodies and Jordans. His boy wasn't stacked from hours every day at the gym. But now... he was.

"You look off. What have you been doing? Are you on steroids?" I kept searching through Chase's memories to find something to use to diffuse a very pissed off Aidan. Eventually, I found it. I smirked, leaning my arm against the wall and crossing my ankles.

"What, babe? You liking what you're seein'? You been askin' for me to play bad boy for months now, well tonight's your night, bro." His demeanor immediately shifted from rage to nervousness. "Yeah, just like Thiago next door, right? You love it when he gets home all sweaty and jacked, smellin' like a locker room. You like it when you hear him poundin' babes all night long on the other side of the wall. You wanted him to step on your face and make you lick his feet and suck his big smelly cock..." I groped my bulge through the sweats, watching as his eyes went down to my throbbin' package. The kid was sweet, man he had a thing for me. Little did he know he had the real deal in front of him.

"I... Why now? You said he was dirty and disgusting and you'd never be like him..." I grinned, pushin' off the wall to strut over to him. He leaned against the counter as I put my arms on either side of him, pushing my new body right up against his. I could feel his lil' cock throbbin' against mine. It was... I don't know, man, it was cute the way he was blushin' lookin' at me.

"Yeah, maybe I like dirty and nasty, now. 'Cuz I know you like dirty and nasty..." I put my hand on his bulge, squeezing rough. He moaned, lettin' out a soft whimper. "Yeah, babe. How's bout you let Thiago take care of you tonight, babe. Go to the bedroom and strip for me." He sat there for a second, I guess he was thinkin' or whatever, but it didn't take long for a smile to show up and for him to run into the bedroom. I couldn't help but laugh, bro. It was so cute. There's somethin' so feminine about the guy, kinda reminds me of my ex. I guess guys could be femme too, maybe I could get with that. Fuck, why not. I was like, I'm gonna be in here for a long time, might as well get some tail in while I'm here.

I walked into the bathroom, pullin' off my sweatshirt and lookin' into the mirror for the first time. The chest ink is all done, his skin forever gonna be branded with my tatts. I pull out his phone, typing in my bro's number with the crew. I snap a pic of my sweaty, sexy new gringo bod, and send it to him.

"Layin' low for a minute, O. Pigs got me all fucked up. Still down for jobs, tho." I smirked, pressin' send, and walkin' out into the dark bedroom. Aidan was bare-ass naked, his legs up in the air and a surprisingly juicy lil' ass beggin for this dick. His hole puckered as he whimpered for it. Man, somethin' snapped in me that night, bro. It just looked so fuckin' nice... such a perfect, tight lil cum dump... and he was literally beggin' for it. I growled as I pushed my sweats to the ground, my briefs fallin' with them. Struttin' over to him, my J's squeakin' on the wood floors, I'm just ready to stick that drippin' musky rod inside him before he chirps up.

"Wait..." I look down at him, leaning over the top of him with a wolfish grin. "Can we... can we do the thing..." I knew exactly what he was talkin' about. Chase was such a fuckin' prude he'd never do it for the kid, but with me in the driver's seat, this thirsty lil guy was gonna get a whole new side of his man. I grinned as I pulled off one of my Jordans, holding it just below my face to take a quick sniff. Man, I'd been runnin' in these all night, liftin' in these every day, it stank of my ripe ass feet, and he'd been dreamin' of that funk ever since I moved in.

I slammed the sneaker down over his nose, spitting on my pre-slicked cock before thrusting my length into his puckering hole. I fucked that kid hard, just like I'd fucked Lizzie, Aisha, Carmen, & Mina. He moaned and sniffed over and over again as I slipped in and out of his hole. Aidan was a thirsty lil twink, he wanted a hard masculine guy to fuck him like a toy, and Chase just wasn't up for the fuckin' job. But man, feelin' my slimy dick ramming into his tight ass was like fuckin' the tightest pussy I've ever had. He was better than the last two weeks of girls combined. His hand took over holding the sneaker on his face, lettin' me grab ahold of his lil' dick and pump. I guess my sweaty hands were doin' it for him, as his moans got louder. He started thrustin' into my palms as I fucked him silly.

"Yeah, babe. You been wantin' Thiago's smelly dick all up inside you haven't you?" *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* "Ahh fuck yeah, babe. Let me take care of you, babe." *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* I felt my balls start to quake, feelin' my knees get all wobbly... It was comin' "Fuck yeah, you want this load inside you, baby?" He whimpered nose deep in my sneaker, I could hear him groaning a quiet 'mmmmhmmmm'. That's all I ever need to hear, baby. I only ever need a yes.

"AaaaaaaaAGH!" I felt my balls jolt, and my load went bursting into him. Once, Twice, Three times, Four times, Five times... just wave after wave of my splooge just rushin' into that twink ass. Fuck! I hadn't cum like that before. Ever! Dribblin' off at 7 shots of my batter deep into him, and he shot his own lil load onto my hand. I kept strokin, grinning from ear to ear hearin' his whiny ass gettin' all 'ahhhhhhh' and 'oooooooooooo'... Hah! Damn, the kid was a natural. I pulled my snake out of him, my load drippin' out of his gaping hole.

I fell onto the bed next to him, panting and sighing. I turned my head, laughin' seein my sneaker still sittin' upside down on his face. Pulling it off, I got to see his smiling face, glistening with sweat. For my first time with a dude, Aidan gave a lot of girls a run for their money. He turned to me, chuckling under his panting breath. Wantin' to give him a bit of a show, I brought the Jordan to my nose, takin' a quick whiff and sighing in satisfaction. Ripe n' funky, but if it does it for ya, you can get as much as you want. Dropping it on the floor, I could tell he was still shocked.

"What happened to you?" He smiled and laughed, and I felt myself grinning from his happy little laughs.

"I'm a new man for you, babe. I can stick around if you want?" I winked at him, and he smiled; nodding and cuddlin' up against my sweaty muscles. I hadn't done what they call 'aftercare' before, but I learned a lot that night. Aidan likes to be all snuggled up, sweet and complimentary, talkin' about his day and what he was thinking and feeling... It was different, and honestly kinda nice. Maybe this wouldn't be as much of a fuckin' drag as I thought it would be. I turned to the nightstand, seein' my phone light up and vibrate. Omarion.

I picked it up as he started to nod off, seein' that my bro had texted back. Opening the text, it was just a location and a time. I knew what that meant. Tomorrow night, meetin' up at the docks. I nodded and put the phone onto the charger, and started gettin' to puttin' my stuff into my new closet.

---

I woke up the next morning, the smell of cum still hangin' in the air. I stretched and sighed, winkin' at myself in the mirror before hoppin up to my feet. I went into the living room, seein' the balcony door open. I smiled, seein' a memory of Aidan drinkin' his coffee out there on the couch. So, I went and got him a glass of his cold brew, and walked out there, seein' him quietly reading a book. I looked at him and immediately saw he was decked out in my threads: my tank, my jeans, my chucks, my chains... and honestly it looked good on him.

"What you doin' out here without your coffee?" He looked up from his book, and smiled.

"You never bring me my coffee! Thanks, Chase!" I grinned hearing that name, handing him his cold brew and plopping down on the seat across from him. He sipped it, tossing it back like a bachelorette downing tequila shots. He smacked his lips and hummed, but looked up at me with a weird look. "Last night was hot as fuck."

"Yeah, baby. It was hot. You got real into it, bro." He raised his eyebrow a bit, putting his drink down on the balcony ledge.

"What happened to you? You never answered me last night. What's changed?" He waved his hand up and down, pointin' at my chest, my arms, my abs, my feet, my height... "You did not look like this yesterday morning." I sat there for a second, thinkin' about what the fuck I was gonna say. I couldn't tell him, of course. But I needed a better answer than 'oh, I'm using your boyfriend's body as a disguise to hide from the cops.'

"I can tell you if you really wanna know, babe. Or, I could just show you. But, gimme a day or so." He looked at me for what seemed like a long ass time, but in the end, he smiled and nodded.

"Tomorrow morning, Chase. One day to explain." Bullet dodged. For now, at least. I now had a day to figure out what to do. The guy was like, a genuinely good dude. I'm not gonna fuck the kid over, or slip out of his boyfriend to show him he got his wish havin' the Colombian Neighbor fuck him. "Anyway, it's Sunday. And I got you for the whole day." He grinned, rubbing his hand on my thigh.

For the next ten hours, it was like hanging out with one of my bros. Playin' video games, cookin' food, I even got the little guy to take a rip from the bong. He was hackin' up a lung, and I laughed my ass off, but fuck is Aidan a good dude to kick back with. I was really starting to dig him; the vibes were on point, he's funny as fuck, interested in cool things... The more time I spent with him, the more I really liked the guy. If anything, it made me that much more fuckin' pissed that a racist little fuck like Chase was steppin' out on him behind his back. This is the kind of dude you have at home, and you're puttin' your dick in someone else? Like, far be it for me to have much to say about serial fuckin', but Aidan didn't deserve that. At all.

I decided then and there, as long as I was pilotin' Chase, he was gonna be the man that Aidan had always wanted, and the man he deserved. It wasn't even gonna be that hard, man. Just bein' myself, the vibes were electric. Maybe I'm not as straight as I thought. Laughin', puttin' my arm around him as he played Legend of Zelda or whatever, I don't know it just felt right. So by the time the sun went down, it felt like it had only been twenty minutes. I looked up at the clock on the oven, seein' it sayin' that it was almost 9 PM.

"Hey, babe. I'm gonna run to the store, you want me to get you anything?" He barely looked up from the game, just turnin' his head a little bit.

"Ice cream. Pistachio. Love you." I laughed, ruffling his blonde locks before hoppin' up, and slippin' my J's back on. I made sure his eyes were plastered on the screen before slipping heat into my pants, and headed toward the door.

"Be right back, bro." He just waved behind him, not so much as glancin' at me. I snickered, and felt the butterflies in my stomach flutterin' around. Fuck, I was gettin' in deep. I opened the door, and made my way out into the hall. The police had tape all around my old apartment, doin' all their searches and fingerprintin'. Fuckin' fools. I turned and walked down the steps, grinning from ear to ear.

---

The docks were empty at that time of night, no one's around past 8. So walking straight up to warehouse 7 was a breeze. I reached in through the broken glass on the door, turning the knob from the inside and walkin' in. The blue lights were barely lighting anything, but in the far side of the empty room, I saw my boy smokin' his blunt. Still decked out in his diamonds and gold.

"Bruh, I gotta tell you. I ain't been a gay before, but this shit ain't too bad!" He looked up at me, nearly bursting into laughter at the gringo struttin' up in my clothes.

"Fuck, bro! Now I know that ain't Thiago up in that white boy." I smirked, bowing like the drama queen Chase used to be before slappin' Omarion on the shoulder.

"The one and only, bro. Pretty wild, right?" He laughed, passing me the blunt. I took a quick hit, lettin' out the rings I'm known for in our crew. That seemed to set his questions at ease.

"Motherfucker that is you! I'm out here dodgin' feds and pigs right and left, and you're over there squeezin' into fags." That word hit differently now, I felt my smile fade the moment it left his lips.

"Yeah, man. Snatched this little racist homewrecker in the hall. His boyfriends pretty tight, though."

"Him or his hole?" Omarion started to laugh, and I couldn't stop myself from shoving him against the wall. I'd caught him off guard, puttin' my arm against his neck.

"Don't be talkin' about him like that. Aidan's alright. Got it?" Omarion snickered, and then burst out laughing.

"Bruh, you in deep with this. Aight, aight! I ain't got nothin' against the gays, man. You know that." I let him off the wall, steppin back before taking another hit off the blunt. "So..." He awkwardly muttered. "Got a little hidey-hole for me?"

I turned to him, lettin' out a cloud of smoke in his face. No way I was gonna put up Aidan as his personal safe house. But thinking about it for just a second, a smirk crawled across my face. Perhaps that little shit Chase had been fuckin' on the side may come in handy after all.

Biker Breath

Zane was riding home from work on his bicycle when he passed a pile of stuff sitting on the curb with a sign attached saying “For Free”. Zane stopped to inspect what all was left out on the street and saw a super nice looking biker helmet, carefully picking it up he noticed some scratches and dings on the helmet but besides that it was still in perfect working condition. While he was examining it Zane noticed the rancid scent emanating out of the helmet. Holding his nose, Zane began to put the helmet back onto the curb when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his, it was a deeper, more masculine voice demanding him to put the helmet on. Wanting to resist, Zane set the helmet down and turned his back to it and the other stuff on the curb when the voice again demanded “Put on the helmet”, Zane was overcome with the need to put the helmet on. As he lifted the helmet up over his head Zane pleaded with the voice “Please…No…It reeks”. Feeling the voice command him to lower the helmet on his head, Zane’s mind and body obediently obeyed as he lost control of both. Upon lowering the helmet onto his head Zane could smell the reeking stench of the helmet. It reeked of sweat and B.O., the previous owner had obviously never even attempted to clean it.

Regaining consciousness and control of his body, Zane tried to take the helmet off, but quickly he heard the voice command “Breath in deep wimp” Zane once again obediently followed orders and took in a deep whiff of the helmet’s noxious stench. Zane would have normally been disgusted but he wasn’t, in fact he loved the rancid stench of sweat trapped in the helmet. Zane heard another command echo through his head, “Get on your puny bike loser”. Zane sat on his metal bicycle and began to pedal away. With every pedal, he bike became more akin to what a real man would ride. It slowly transformed into a fast and slick motorcycle.

Zane revved the bike instinctually and he felt his dick shoot to life at the same time, it was weird, Zane never was interested in motorcycles but his body was aching for more. Zane’s puny body was sitting atop a nice expensive motorcycle now but his body and face were still that of a wimpy nerd. That was soon to change, the voice started describing what a biker boy should be like. “Biker boys are unhygienic beasts who never wear deodorant, shower once a week, and never brush their teeth, all of that is for weak pussies” Zane could suddenly remember why the helmet smelled so bad, it was HIS stench that was infused into the helmet. Zane breathed in another deep whiff of the stink HE cultivated and let out a pleasurable sigh, breathing out a torrent of funky smelling breath, Zane added to the stench and made himself more loopy. Feeling his weak body get light and tingly Zane kept riding his newly minted motorcycle, he stopped at a red light and looked over at the car next to him, “Had I always had such big muscles?” Zane thought to himself as he saw his reflection in the car’s window. “No…can’t be I…” he took a breath in and inhaled more of his noxious B.O. and bad breath, “…I have always been this buff duhhh” Zane pulled off and sped home away from the stop light. Arriving home his brother was getting out of his car in the driveway, pulling up was surprised when he saw the man on the motorcycle, he looked like a stranger to him. “Hey man I think you got the wrong address” Zane’s brother told the now insanely ripped Zane, “Whatchu mean bro this my crashpad!” Zane said loudly. “Nah my brother lives here with me and my dad not you” Zanes brother remarked. Zane got off his bike and walked up to his little bro, “Heeeeeeeeeeey man chillax…no need to get your pantiessssss in a bunch” Zane drew out certain syllables on words so that he could breathe out his nasty breath that smelled like he had just eaten garlic, and fish, and hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Zane’s brother’s eyes glazed over upon smelling his older brother’s stale and stinky breath, “Oh hey bro welcome home” Zane reached an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they walked to the house together. “Yeaaaaaaahhh you love your big bro’s stinking breath dont cha lil man” Zane laughed and purposely let out a blast of his funky breath into his brother’s face, “Yea…bro I- I love how…stinky…your breath i- is…I wish I was m-more like you”His brother said mindlessly as if in a trance. “Well in that case lil bro I wanna take you on a ride tonight okay? You can wear my helmet I jusssssst got it” Zane breathed out more of his rank breath while he spoke. “Yea…uhh like…totally bro…” His lil bro responded not knowing that the ride would seal his fate just how his brother’s was.

Hi. I saw that you were happy to transform some guys. I wouldn't mind getting the ol' Hunkification treatment. Need a change in my life.

snap

Come here bro. Have a sit down. Let me take care of you. Take off your shirt, that’s it. And your pants too. Skinny jeans? Forget those. Gym shorts will be more your style.

Now, where to start. Hair? It’s all over you. Your chest, legs, face and arms. It’s not crazy unkempt, but you have a satisfying amount. Let’s make it a reddish-brown tint. You’re not a redhead, per say. But in the right light you can see it.

A nice hairy chest like yours needs pecs to go with it. Guys are gonna love curling their fingers around that fur of yours! They’ll follow it down your six pack stomach and into your hairy groin and dick. Glorious.

Let’s pump up your arms too. You spend a lot of time working on your chest, shoulders and arms. It’s paying off big time.

Just got the finishing touches … I’m thinking stink? A hairy guy like you needs sweat and musk to go with it. Have a whiff of those hairy pits of yours. Smells good, right?

Locker 054

Michael was excited to be picking up a new hobby, he was going to start going to the gym, he was always a pretty skinny guy but he was looking to put on some muscle. Entering the gym for the first time Michael spoke to the guy running the front desk, he got a membership set up for himself and was pointed in the direction of the locker room. Entering the locker room for the first time, Michael was met with a musty smell lingering in the place. Of course Michael wasn't expecting it to smell like a perfume counter so he didn’t pay too much mind to the smell, but as he entered deeper into the locker room the smell got more and more intense. He had passed by a tall gym bro who had dumbly told him “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.”

Michael had decided to find locker 054 and when he got to it he set his stuff down on the bench while he opened it up. Upon opening it he was met with an obviously worn tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants sitting at the bottom of his locker, and on top sat a pair of ripe gym socks. Gagging and turning away Michael was disgusted from the ripe scent pouring off of the clothes and out of the locker. It reeked so horribly that Michael grabbed his stuff and started to walk away when he suddenly thought to himself “Why am I leaving my locker wide open…? Im such a dummy” turning back around he made his way back to the toxic smelling locker. Setting his stuff back down Michael began to get changed, picking up the stinking socks he slipped one foot in and then the other. Feeling the wet feel of the sweat soaked socks would have typically disgusted Michael but now he felt as if this was natural for him. He could smell the newly acquired putrescent stink flowing out of his feet. Taking a deep whiff he felt his head get lighter, and for some reason being here in the gym, in the locker room, at this locker, it all felt so routine.

He proceeded to grab the sweat pants and pull them up above waist, his crotch immediately released the stench of his dried cum and ball sweat wafting towards his nose. It was odd to Michael that he could smell it given that he had showered right before he came to the gym, he shouldn't reek already. Checking if it really was coming from him Michael did something that he would never have done normally, he scratched his balls with his right hand and brought his fingers up to his nose, taking a big whiff he audibly went “Huhuhuhu…so stinky”.

Going back to putting the gym clothes on after his sniff check, Michael put his arm through one arm hole and then the other arm through the other of the white tank top. Now completely on Michael once again smelled a new nasty scent radiating off of him, sticking the same hand he had used to scratch his balls underneath his armpit he left it tucked there for a few seconds. Pulling it out he once again brought his hand to his nose and took a deep whiff. Letting the smell of his wet, tainted, armpit flood his nose sealed his fate. His body began to inflate as his arms grew more muscular, his legs grew sturdier, his feet grew bigger. He let out a deep dump giggle and picked up a can of AXE body spray from his bag. Spraying a spritz on each pit he gave them a sniff to check, to him they now smelled fresh as a daisy, but to anyone else they completely reeked of strong B.O. and cheap AXE. Looking in the mirror Michael saw a hot gymnast reeking of pheromones. Proud of his muscles and progress over the past few years coming to the gym he flexed in the mirror, lifting his arms to do so let out his festering pit stench directly from the source.

After practicing his gymnastics routine for an hour or so he returned to the locker room. Michael got changed back into his everyday clothes that were now too small and straining at the seams. He took the pile of damp gym clothes and set them back in the locker. Adorning his filthy pile with his even smellier socks on top, he leaned in and took a deep sniff of the stinky pile, eyes rolling back in his head from pleasure he knew had had a good workout based off of the stink he and his clothes let off. Closing the locker and leaving it unlocked he had begun to walk to the door when he passed by a lean guy walking into the locker room. “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.” Michael disclosed with his usual idiotic tone.

Michael’s Pits

Getting into his car Michael closed the door and basked in the hot musty sedan. It was a hot day and he had left a pair or two of worn shoes sitting in his car just baking and letting their aroma amplify. Michael took in some deep breaths as he felt sweat running down his body, he had just exited the gym and the hot sun outside kept his body from cooling off. Michael loved summer because he always worked up the most stink during the sweltering summer months, lifting his arms. He turned his head to get a deep sniff of one pit and then turned his head to get a whiff of the other. Both were producing a dank scent that pleased Michael and his dim mind. Hearing his phone buzzing he looked down and saw someone texting him, the text was from his boyfriend asking what he wanted to do for dinner.

Camron was a little surprised when his boyfriend Michael texted back and told him “we shuld get a pizza bro”, Michael never spoke like that so it was very odd to Camron that Michael was texting like a dumb jock all of a sudden. “Sure babe I’ll order it” Camron texted, he called the pizza place they go to sometimes.

Walking into the pizza place a sweet looking guy was standing at the cash register, “Hi how can I help you today?” he asked Michael. Michael looked at him dumbly for a second and a dopey grin crossed his face, “Great! A fucking weirdo” thought the cashier. The cashier, Sage, asked again, “How can I help you today, sir?”. Michael’s foggy brain cleared up a little bit to allow him to tell the cashier what he needed, “Uhhh hi bro im picking up a pizza”, “What’s the name?” Sage politely asked, “Uhhhh it’s under…ummmm…” his brain was having trouble getting his boyfriend’s name out “it’s under Camron!” he shouted out joyfully. “Okay! Let me go get that for ya” Sage said, going into the kitchen Sage found the pizza box with Camron scribbled on the side. Walking back out Sage was met with the sight of Michael sniffing his armpit, Sage could smell the B.O. wafting over the counter and into his nose. “Ummm here you go sir…” Sage said apprehensively as he was being weirded out, “Do you think my pits stink lil man?” Michael asked the cashier as he scratched his fingers in his wild forest of pit hair. “Ummm sir…I-,” Sage stuttered out “Here give em a whiff” Michael said, sticking the hand he was just scratching his revolting pit with into the cashier’s face, Michael laughed as Sage took an accidental sniff.

Sage felt his body go limp as the stench emanating off Michael’s fingers put him in a trance, “Whats happening!?!” Sage thought “This…this guy…reeks”. Michael watched as the cute little cashier began to drool, his eyes became unfocused and dull upon smelling Michael’s masculinity. Removing his fingers for a second, Michael walked around the counter to be right next to Sage, getting a couple whiffs of fresh air, Sage shook his head and blinked. Wiping the drool away he shouted out “What just happened?! G…get away! NO! BACK OF MAnnn…” Sage’s words drifted off as he was put back in Michael’s stinky armpit. Holding the pipsqueak’s head into his pit, Michael watched as his musty scent did it’s job.

Sage began to grow, the first transformation Michael saw started after about a minute or two of exposure to the stink. Sage’s neck began to expand with muscle, which quickly spread into his dainty shoulders, turning them into two massive hulking mounds. Sage felt as an intense tingling descended into his arms, they quickly transformed into looking like a hillside, all the rolling muscles he had just grown were so perfect and round. His armpits filled with a peppering of hair and began to produce their own nauseating stench similar to Michaels. Michael looked on proudly as Sage’s pecs bounced out and touched him and his stomach chiseled itself into a perfect six pack. Sage’s thighs began to expand next as the transformation moved downwards, the tiny toothpicks he once had for legs turned into massive meaty members holding him up. His feet began to grow next and they quickly burst out of the sneakers containing them and released Sage’s newly developed rotten foot funk.

Pulling his victim out of his armpit, Michael got to see his new face. It had changed while stuck in Michael’s smelly pit. His skin had gotten a good bit darker, his goatee had become just a patch of hair underneath his chin, and his stache disappeared. He lost all the femininity he once had and looked like a reeking latino gym bro. Michael was satisfied and took the pizza and left, on his way out another young twinkish customer walked in and he heard Sage ask the customer “Huhuhuh bro do my pits stink?”.

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.

Ugh, I Hate Bongs.

Switching it up slightly! Here's a more subtle TF as a straight edge busybody finally tries to stick it to his stoner roommate. -Occam

Chris was not going to let his roommate smoke in their apartment anymore. He was tired of the couch smelling like smoke which is reason enough, but beyond that his roommate, Nate, had fully broken two broken two bongs getting ashy water all over the work Chris had left out in the den. Hearing a telltale gurgle coming from the living room could only mean Nate had now brought a third bong into their shared space. Chris felt almost bound to act.

As soon as he opens his bedroom door he feels a wave of thick smoke blow through him, clearly getting the skunky smell he hates so much all over his clothes and bedding. This was something Chris could not let stand. It’s bad enough that he’s doing this in the apartment at all now it’s now going to start seeping into the only place he had left. He sees Nate on the couch taking in a deep breath preparing to lay into him. But? What was he mad about anyway?

Standing there continuing to breathe in smoke from Nate’s session he remembers there was definitely something he needed to do. He was in his room, then he heard his roommate, and now he is in the living room? As he continues to aimlessly circle through these seemingly insignificant events he doesn’t even notice as he stops smelling the weed in the air, before seeing Nate take another massive bong hit on the couch. Seeing him out of his room Nate smiles, breathing another wave of smoke into the room.

“Yo dude! Are you coming to join?” Nate’s eyes are bleary and red as he offers the bong and lighter to his roommate.

That’s what it was, Chris remembers as he sees the bong. He was pissed that his roommate was using a bong! It was, annoying for some reason? I mean it looks a little dirty right? “Didn’t I say no bongs dude?”

“Oh yeah dude! That’s why I rolled you a joint?”

This throws Chris for a loop. What a kind thing to do but he can’t help but feel something amiss going on. The smile briefly fades from Nate as he grows concerned seeing Chris struggle. “Woah everything good dude?”

“Yeah, sorry? My head just feels like it’s pounding,” Chris rubs his face in discomfort feeling his face grow flush and his eyes begin to dry.

“This’ll straighten you right up dude, come on just try a hit.”

Chris, upon being directly asked, puts out a hand for the joint and immediately lights it up like he has done it a thousand times over. He takes a hit like an expert, breathing slowly and naturally as to not cough. Only after doing so and realizing he had no discomfort he starts a coughing fit. Of course, he has been breathing progressively more and more smoke since stepping out of his bedroom, so this fit is almost performative. Something he is doing only because it is something he should be doing, or he thinks he should be doing? He doesn’t usually smoke, right?

This thought quickly flashes out of his head as feels lightheaded, collapsing onto the couch right next to Nate. His body growing leaner as he almost liquefies into the cushions, “See Chris what did I say, one hit and you’re already cured.” His glazed eyes look over to his friend as he takes another hit. He sees his friend’s stubbled face and wonders if he should grow one of his own. Shaving is more effort than it’s worth anyway. He exhales as he too starts to add to the pervasive smoke filling the room.

He scratches at his face as a scraggly beard starts to push out. Pausing to feel as much as he can in his body before taking another hit. Pushing his back against the couch, rubbing his arm down his chest and stomach, Nate watching as his roommate finally lets loose. Chris takes a third hit as Nate sees his hair get greasier as his pubes push out beyond the bounds of his holey underwear.

Chris launches into another coughing fit as, unbeknownst to him, he finishes the joint and starts to burn the filter. Seeing this Nate reacts as quickly as he can, clumsily putting the bong down on the table reaching out to check on Chris, rubbing his roommates back in a way that seem decidedly intimate. “Y’okay dude? Your hits were way too big but ‘s chill ‘s chill. You didn’t want any more did you?”

Sluggishly working through the words Nate just asked him he finds he doesn’t need to search for his own answer. Why wouldn’t he want more? Everything just feels so much better as he stretches, feeling his tendons and muscles expand and contract, “Mmmmm yeah I could do a little more.” Before he remembers that with his joint now impossibly consumed in three hits the only weed ready to smoke is in the bong’s bowl, still vaguely unpleasant to him.

Nate then has a masterful idea. He would shotgun the weed to Chris! Why would he be averse to that? They’re friends right? Chris, numbed beyond reason, is more than happy to give it a try. He’s sure that he's drunk after Nate before right? Or? Have they kissed before? It’s hard to tell, the benders they go on its truly impossible to say.

Chris watches as Nate takes a massive hit of the bong. Water gurgling for full seconds before he reconsiders, one last time feeling unease, he isn’t the to go on benders right? He’s so type a he wouldn’t even think about it. Continuing to question himself as he leans towards Nate, finishing his inhale as he too leans towards Chris. He opens his mouth letting the cloud of smoke leak out of his mouth, lazily gazing into Chris’ eyes expecting him to finish the job.

Seeing this Chris is unable to resist as he stumbles forward pressing his mouth to Nate’s.

Nate falls backwards, once more narrowly placing the bong on the table, as Chris crashes into him. The playful second hand smoking quickly dissolving into an aggressive grinding session as Chris hungrily slobbers over Nate’s neck. Maybe he is this type of person. Nate pulls Chris’ shirt off letting their torsos touch skin to skin as Chris begins dry humping his roommate. The two stoners continue in this regard as their cocks swiftly demand attention as sweatpants are pulled down and the two have at each other outright. Lean arms flailing in the air as they pull on each other's unwashed hair. Faces shove into hairy pits in lieu of smoking any more weed, besides of course the haze still filling the apartment. The pressure quickly mounts as Chris is inches from finishing all over his roommates’ hairy chest before he shifts and his left leg flings into the table knocking over bong number three. “Shit dude!” he cries as he does indeed finish missing Nate’s chest for his face. Coming down from their ecstasy the pair stumble off the couch narrowly avoiding glass shards as they try to clean up Chris’ mess.

“Maybe no more bongs yeah,” Chris giggles at something he can quite understand as he watches Nate struggle with a broom. His eyes shift from the unground weed on the table and his still unclad roommate as he starts to work himself up once more. Hungrily awaiting what comes next, he prepares for session two.

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.

Putrid Profession

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

Skater Stench

Inspired by Anon Ask

Clay was walking to work on an empty street, looking down at his phone he suddenly saw in the corner of his eye someone quickly moving towards him. All of a sudden, just as he was looking up from his phone, some dude on a skateboard crashed right into him knocking the both of them down. As the skater bro laid right on top of him Clay heard the guy start profusely apologizing, “Oh my gawd duuude im so sorry like I wasnt paying attention at all!”. Getting up first the skater held out his hand to help Clay up to his feet, looking down at himself Clay realized that his outfit was ruined from the fall. As the skater pulled him up Clay began to berate the guy, “How stupid could you be?! Some of us have actual responsibilities like work and I cant show up looking like this!”, etc etc. The skater obviously annoyed that Clay was getting so heated over an accident tried to apologize again, “Look man I am real sorry I-” Clay cut him off “I dont care if you’re sorry! How exactly do you plan on fixing this?!” The skater tried one last time to amend the situation “Look we got off on the wrong foot Im Apollo.” he held out his hand inviting Clay to shake his hand. Clay pushed Apollo's hand down and again just was insulting and berating the guy. Tired of this douchebag yelling at him Apollo furrowed his brows and pushed Clay back down to the ground. Falling on his ass Clay yelled out “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!”, Apollo responded “Dude you definitely need a reality check, i'm just helping give it to you”. Quickly turning around so that Clay was looking right at Apollo’s ass, Clay was assaulted with the stench of Apollo’s obviously unwashed ass “You smell so fou-” “PPPPPPFFFFBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT” Apollo interrupted Clay with a boisterous butt blast. “What….the…fuuuuuuuuck…” Clay said as the eggy stench that Apollo just shot into his face began to make him feel weird. Clay heard as Apollo said “Sorry man but I really think you need this” “FFFFRRRRTTT” another gust was inhaled by Clay. “...this…feels……wrong…” Clay was having an even harder time speaking than before. Turning back around and squatting to get face to face with him, Apollo held Clays head in place and told him “Look bro im gonna change you okay? You are gonna be waaaaay more chill once im done” Apollo watched as Clay gently nodded his head. “PPPPPPFFFBBBTTT” Apollo let out another fart and watched as Clay’s light brown pupil turned into swirling green spirals.

“Good boy” Apollo cooed out to Clay. “Skaters enjoy farting out rank clouds of gas, its the funniest thing to us” “FRAAAP” Clay felt as his nose began to like the fetid smell that was filling the air around the two boys. “Skaters don't mind getting knocked down, it’s part of skating” Clay felt as his anger and annoyance towards the fact the Apollo knocked him off his feet quickly rushed out of him. “FRAAAAP” those feelings quickly rushed out of his ass, producing a disgusting stench Clay would have normally been grossed out by but for some reason he found the meaty smelling fart humorous. “Skaters dont mind wearing ripped up and distressed clothes, in fact they like it” “FRAAAAP” Clay suddenly felt that his clothes were actually pretty cool, his temper would no longer rise if he was seen in ripped up clothes. “Skaters like spending their days skating and fucking other skater bros, its the best way to live” “FRAAAP” Clay’s mind grew lighter as his previous responsibilities evaporated into a smelly fart and were replaced with the desire to waste his days skating around and making his skater bros feel maximum amounts of pleasure. “Skaters are dumb mindless idiots whose brains have been replaced with their own ass stank” “BRRRRAAAAAPPPPP” Clay watched as Apollo recoiled due to the malodorous fart Clay just produced, feeling even more light headed than ever Clay began uncontrollably chuckling, “huhuhuhuhuhuh…” Apollo stood up and held out his hand and helped Clay up to his feet. Letting out one last fart Apollo watched as Clay’s eyes returned back to normal and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “How you feeling bro?” Apollo asked, “huhuh I feel… BRAAAP- sniff sniff gooood” Clay chuckled out. “What are you doin today duuuude?” Apollo questioned Clay, “Uhhhhhh skating…duhhhh…what else would I pfffbbbtt be doin?”

Teenage Boys REEK

It was so nice being out of High School. It had been 2 or 3 years since you last had to walk the poorly lit halls of your horrible High School. You enjoyed getting out of your hometown too, being able to go off the college and experience the world for what it really is had been an amazing experience but now it was summer, Your Sophomore year of college was over and now began the long wait in your hometown until September when you got to go back to San Francisco for college. To pick up a few extra bucks here and there you were helping tutor kids over the summer so that they would retain the knowledge from what they had just learned over the past year until they got back into a classroom. Many of the kids you tutored were incredibly talented and smart kids who were forced to get tutoring by their parents. They didn’t even need your help for most of the stuff you were tutoring them on. But then there was Rico, his full name was Ricardo but he never let anyone call him that. He was a 18 year old Junior, held back 2 times in his school career. He was a baseball player who was dumb as rocks but an absolute prodigy when it came to baseball.

He always bragged about “Carrying his team to State every single year”, he always emphasized “his” everytime he said it. It was well known that he was only ever going to go to college based on his baseball ability, he didn’t have the SAT scores or GPA to get into any college minus community colleges. You were reached out to by his parents to help him or to at least try to help him with some of the subjects he struggled with the most. You agreed and had been coming over to help him 3 times a week every single week for the past month. It was a struggle but he seemed to really be getting a bit better at some of it.

It was a hot day in early July when you stopped by for your second visit of the week. He was the only one home and you could tell based on the fact that his car was the only one home and you could hear him blasting music from his room as you approached the door. You knocked but he obviously didn’t hear given that he didn’t open the door, you rang the doorbell, still didn’t answer the door. Then you simply tried to open it, it was surprisingly unlocked so you let yourself in and took your shoes off as you walked in the tidy house. You had never gone upstairs before because you always tutored him either in the living room or at the kitchen table. As you walked up the stairs you located his room by how loud the music was. It didn’t take very long to get to his door and you knocked on the closed door, no response, you knocked again, still nothing. So just like the front door you opened it and were immediately berated with the foul scent if an unhygienic teenage boys room. “OH SHIT” Rico exclaimed surprised to see you, it was obvious the empty headed boy forgot you were coming over, “Dude! What are you doing here bro”. To you and any person with a shred of intelligence would know that the obvious answer is that you are here to tutor him, like you always do, but this was news to Rico. “Reallyyyyyy?” He groaned, “Againnnnnn? This is like the fourth time this week!” It was only Tuesday, you hadn’t even made it more than 3 days in the week so far. “Well…I guess we can just do it here in my room” Rico said. Even though the smell was awful you decided that you would just do it in here. The difficulty was finding a place to set up. The desk was covered in beer cans, old food, one of Rico’s boxer briefs was hanging from the chair. The floor was even worse, Rico’s baseball uniforms sitting in a pile wafting out an foul aromatic scent, a pile of sneakers, cleats, and flip flops sitting near the bed, and even more cans and old pizza boxes on the floor. The only spot that was suitable for the tutoring session was next to Rico on the bed. Rico was shirtless and wearing his chain and a hat twisted backwards. You sat next to him trying not to disturb the small haphazardly stacked pile of socks on the bed. You put your bag on the floor and pulled out a textbook from it and got to work. Not even more than 10 minutes in Rico began to complain, “Man this is whack. My parents aren’t even here why do you gotta do this” You told him that it was your job and that you had to but this didn’t quell hia complaints. He kept going on about how boring it all was and how he could be doing better things etc. etc.

After a while he got this odd almost devilish look in his eye, “How bout a deal?” He said smugly, “You let me teach you something that you’re not good at and then we’ll continue for the rest of the session”. You really didn’t want to but you thought that it would shut him up so you agreed. “ALRIGHT BRO!” He shouted out excitedly, “IM GONNA TEACH YOU ALL THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT BASEBALL!” Rolling your eyes you knew that you should have seen this coming and that this was gonna be a long day. Surprisingly it took about half an hour to grow bored, and you asked if you two could get back to studying something useful. Rico, obviously a little offended, said “Woah dude, I thought we had a deal!” he then proceeded to make a face that looked like he was thinking, “I know…” he said in a tone that made you uneasy, “I should just show you the results of my knowledge and all the hours i've spent “studying” my craft” He put finger quotes around the word “studying”.

You watched as Rico quickly bent down and grabbed one of his cleats from the pile beside the bed, with one quick move he pressed it into you face so hard that you were forced onto your back. As you lay on Rico’s bed, the tip of your nose touching the damp insole of the well used cleat, you quickly caught the first acrid whiff of Rico’s foot funk. Nasty and incredibly nauseating, the smell overpowering you and you began to try and push Rico’s funky cleat off of your face. Unfortunately Rico and his years of “studying” paid off with the result being arms that can hold you down just with a little bit of effort. You felt you eyes begin to heavy and your body began to weaken when suddenly Rico released you from the grasps of the malodorous shoe. Breathing in the “fresh” air of the room you were dazed and confused and about to gather the strength to yell at Rico when suddenly you felt him grab your arm. “Man you put on some muscle didn’t you bro?” He said as he squeezed your arm. You looked and to your shock and awe you now had arms like his. Confused, you tried to think of a way this was possible when he grabbed your thigh and said “Woah and you've got some beefy legs now too!” Looking down you confirmed this by seeing the tree trunks that sat beneath you.

Utterly baffled, you watched as Rico suddenly sniffed the air, “Eughhh” Rico blurted out, “Bro do you smell that?!” You followed Rico’s lead and smelled something rotten, something that lingered in the room earlier but now was fresh. “BRO! HUHUHUH” Rico dumbly laughed, “ITS ME!” Lifting up his arm Rico revealed his pits dusted with hair stinking to high heaven. You heard yourself involuntarily let out the same dull laugh as Rico as you watched him sniff his pit and let out a proud sigh. You sat on the bed and shook your head violently as you snapped out of the stink-induced trance you were in. As Rico watched this he grabbed your head and pulled you in close as he kept his other arm held high. “Bro…” Rico dumbly uttered, “You gotta get a whiff of my pit stink” He said as he quickly pulled your face into his rotten armpit. Much like the cleat you tried to pull away and escape but even with your new found muscled bod, you couldn’t escape Rico’s pit stink. You felt yourself get used to the smell as it slowly turned from a noxious cloud infiltrating your nose into a fresh, pleasant scent filling not only your nose but also the room. The reality was that the ripe pit you were in was decaying your brain into mush but you were none the wiser.

Rico lessened his grip from your head but your head still stayed in the overripe pit and continued huffing the good stink it was letting out. Eventually you finally pulled your head out after you got your fill, you let out a long deep chuckle as you sat on the bed. Rico followed suit, letting out the same idiotic laugh and said “Dude, get a whiff of you!” he said as he jokingly fanned his nose. Following orders like a dumb puppy you lifted up your muscled arm to find your own sour scented pit with its own dusting of hair trapping the stink. Taking a deep whiff you felt yourself go light headed and your head bobbed a bit. Taking whiff after whiff of the decomposing smell streaming out of your armpit, you felt as the last bits of smarts in your block disintegrated and were replaced with the knowledge that Rico possesses in his empty head. Your years of learning were all erased and replaced with your years of practicing baseball with your bro Rico, the years you spent at college were erased as you regressed back to your 18 year old self. Baseball was all you knew, you were just another dumb jock who couldn’t even do simple math or read basic literature without stumbling over his words. You had entered the smelly boy’s room, a well-put together nerd and had left it as one of Rico’s baseball buddies, stinking to high heaven constantly and brainlessly going about life.

The Motorcycle learning experience

— This story was a bit rushed so srry!! Still kinda ate, let me know what u think! —

It was Christmas, and Logan found himself gifted of an intriguing gift: a full-day motorcycle riding lesson with an instructor. As an 18-year-old nerd, he initially felt apprehensive about the gift, that was given from his roommate. Motorcycles, cars, sports… none of those were interesting to him, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless and thanked his roommate before going to sleep for the night.

Months later, the appointed day arrived, and as Logan made his way to the designated location, he experienced an unusual sensation of liberation. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, but he attributed it to the novelty of learning something outside his usual comfort zone, or because he was about to turn into the hottest biker the world had seen.

Upon arriving at the building, he was greeted by a man clad in a full Dainese leather suit and helmet, arms crossed in anticipation. Logan couldn't help but feel uncertain about the leather attire, but resigned himself to the fact that he would be wearing a suit likely worn by countless others before him—a thought that left him mildly repulsed.

Logan also never really liked bikers, each time he encountered one they were moving around traffic dangerously, almost making cars crash including himself. He wondered why his roommate had the idea to gift him that, it was totally not what he would usually enjoy and his roommate knew it.

"Yo, are you Logan?" the man inquired, removing his helmet to reveal a strikingly handsome, youthful visage reminiscent of a high school jock.

"H-hello...yes, I'm Logan," he stuttered, suddenly feeling more self-conscious in the presence of the attractive boy. Despite his heterosexual orientation, Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the leather-clad figure, his attention inadvertently fixating on the notable bulge accentuated by the attire.

"Alright, man, let's get started! I'll teach you the basics, but I've heard you've been riding for quite some time, so I won't need to hold your hand too much," the instructor remarked, interrupting Logan's internal musings.

"Actually—" Logan began, only to be cut off.

"So, first things first, here are your, pants, and leather jacket. Did you bring your own helmet?"

"No, I didn't..." Logan admitted, feeling increasingly bewildered by the instructor's assumptions and distracted by his own conflicting emotions.

"Bro, it's in your biker backpack right there," the instructor interjected, gesturing toward a backpack resting nearby. Logan turned to see the backpack for the first time, realizing he had been oblivious to its presence amidst the flurry of confusion. Overwhelmed by the situation and the instructor's disarming charisma, Logan's thoughts began to slow as he struggled to process what was happening.

“Man, bikers can be dumb sometimes..you’re no exception, but we got a little issue. I only have one pair of boots, which are mine, I ride with them everyday and they’re very good, bro. Just take ‘em.”

Logan took the boots without even replying, his head fogged up.

*arriving in the changing rooms, the instructor was following him.*

“Alright, first, the boots, bro.” The instructor grabbed them, and all of the sudden, shoved one of them into Logan’s face; the boot had a cheesy, hot intoxicating musk that immediately made Logan pass out. The funk was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, it was very hot and humid, while being absolutely disgusting.

-2 hours later-

Logan wakes up, surprisingly finding himself in full Dainese leather that did not fit him at all, the leather suit was ridiculously large, more fitting for a man the size of the instructor, and Logan was skinny. He tried to take the jacket off, but it was stuck to him, he started to panic.

“Nah bro, don’t take it off. You’re becoming a biker boy now.”

“S-stop..get it OFF!” He was becoming mad and anxious, not knowing what was going on and panicking inside the suit.

“Alright bro, it’s coming again.” The instructor was coming with the same biker boot in his hand as earlier, and Logan knew what was coming. He again shoved the biker boot on his face, the odiferous stench inside of it making him pass out again after just a few sniffs.

As he was passed out - the instructor watched Logan’s feet grow, more and more, until they stopped at a size 13.5, with long thick toes and perfectly cut nails. The smell emitting from his new feet was simply rancid, and similar to the instructors. Cheesy, manly, and sweaty. Every time he’d remove his boots, or shoes, the strench would be able to reek up an entire area. The instructor thought it would be good for dominating.

Next, Logan’s legs shrunk a little. Not in musculature, but in height. He became 5’9 fairly quickly, which was still a proper height.

Speaking of musculature, his legs and quads exploded out, becoming full of muscles and veins. They were a sight to see, and his thighs able to crush watermelons easily.

The instructor needed to keep Logan passed out, and this time he chose his feet. He took his big fat muscular biker feet, wrapped in white Nike socks that were more yellowish now, and shoved them into Logan’s nose again, keeping him « asleep ».

After his legs, came the awaited moment of his butt. It was currently hidden beneath the leather, so flat that it couldn’t be seen at all. Suddenly, the once flat buns were becoming stronger, and bigger. They were becoming large, fat and full of muscles. Not necessarily massive, but round with fat and muscles. The two orbs now started to bulge out of the leather pants attractively.

As the transformation continued, Logan would now have another way to dominate and be worshipped due to; frequent & fetid gas. His digestive system changed, matching one that would be made to emit farts very frequently, and even more due to Logan’s new diet, burgers, tacos, and overall greasy foods made his gas smell like rotten eggs & sulfur. The strench would also get caught up in the leather gear and make his entire body stink whenever he was wearing leather pants.

Logan couldn’t feel it, but his penis was now undergoing some changes. The precious 3 inches had been growing at the same time as his orbs in the back, now stopping at an over average but still reasonable 6 inches, but a smaller 3 inches soft, with balls that would be able to produce lots of alpha cum.

The once unassuming upper physique of the 18-year-old nerd underwent a discernible metamorphosis – his abs, once absolutely inexistant ,emerged with striking definition, now a defined sweaty 6pack that would turn heads whenever he was shirtless.

His chest, once modest in appearance, underwent a notable change. It expanded and firmed up, revealing well-defined pecs that seemed almost pillowy in their muscular fullness.The leather jacket sleeves strained against the growing bulk of his arms, which were also changing, combining sinewy strength with a compelling visual presence.

The aroma of genuine leather lingered around him, but other than that atmosphere, a unique fragrance emanated from Logan's body. His armpits, once understated, now emitted a confident, sweaty alpha scent – a true proof of him being an alpha, made to dominate and be worshipped.

As Logans transformation would soon end, his facial features underwent very much needed changes. he once unassuming face of the 18-year-old nerd evolved into something strikingly different. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones gained prominence, and his eyes took on a newfound intensity.

Simultaneously, subtle changes extended to his overall attractiveness. His skin acquired a healthy glow, and any lines that hinted at youth's passing subtly softened, adding an undeniable allure to his appearance.

Then, Logan woke up. Mixed thoughts were in his head, both wanting to escape and other ones where he thought he’d always been a biker boy, dominant and alpha.

“Right. MAX. What’s your name?” The instructor asked.

“I’m..Logan…” Logan, or should I say max, answered.

“No, your name has always been max, you’ve always been a dominant biker boy, 19 years old, bisexual, horny, gross, primal and eager to fuck.” The instructor said, hypnotising Max permanently and overwriting his previous memories.

“Yeah bro, I’m max. Wanna smell my fucking feet ?”

The transformation was complete. Max drove home on his motorcycle, smelling ripe with sweat and very hungry for a hole to fill. It was his new life. Max just wanted to dominate, fuck, spread his funk, and ride.

Adjusting To His New Reality

There’s just something so incredibly erotic yet wrong to be licking and tasting his jock neighbor’s armpits, Finneas thought to himself. Not that he had any plans of ever stopping the worship of his new body. His asshole of a neighbor had not only been a huge pain in his ass since his wealthy parents moved in next door, but also quickly become the object of his desires.

Now, the Chronivac had completely erased his old body and life from existence, and quickly transferred all that belonged to the former jock to him. His accumulated wealth, his perfect fit body… even his dank messy room…

Gone were the posters of video games and music groups, replaced by pictures of body builders, cars, and busty blonde women. His music instruments, his closet, now being fully replaced by work out equipment and work out clothes instead.

Surprisingly yet fortunately though, only his room had been affected. Stepping outside showed his normal house, and downstairs his parents were still as kind and humble as before, even though their pockets were now overflown with cash.

And as he would later find out, everyone now recognized him as Finneas, the rich jock. Part of the school orchestra, but also a main player in the school’s football team. Loved, respected, and lusted by literally everyone.

For now though, he just wanted to play with himself. Feel, smell, and taste what his new perfect body had to offer. Maybe he’d even invite the hot straight QB over to help him worship his body. After all, with the Chronivac in his hand… anything was possible…

My boyfriend recently told me he likes feet. I was into it at first but it feels like it’s replacing our sex now. I wish he wasn’t into my feet anymore.

A genie in baggy basketball shorts and massive, neon sneakers is sitting at your dining table with a small sweet on a plate in front of him. It’s your boyfriend’s favourite. “Make sure he eats this,” says the genie, and vanishes with a burst of foot-fetid smoke.

It’s no problem to get your boyfriend to eat the sweet. The hardest part is distracting him from getting on the floor at your feet to sit at the table and eat like a regular person. The instant the treat disappears down his throat, he jerks back as if he’s been struck. For a moment, his eyes are glazed, then he blinks. Licks his lips. Stands and excuses himself.

After a confused moment, you get up and follow him. Wasn’t he just supposed to stop being into feet? Pushing into the bedroom, you stop.

Your boyfriend has stripped out of his shirt. His torso is sweating profusely, and he’s buried his face in his own armpit! You can see the rock-hard bulge in his pants. He glances over and sees you. Not pausing in sniffing and licking at his own pit, he lifts his other arm invitingly.

The stench of his musk hits you like a physical blow. Why wouldn’t he be obsessed with his armpit? The smell has you hard and panting from ten feet away. Not bothering to undress, you bury yourself in his sweaty pit, moaning loudly as you lick up your new favourite taste.

His obsession with your feet has been replaced. Now you have something you can share!

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

I'm so sick of having to be responsible for other people. I just wanna be a stupid cum-gushing stoner himbo.

It's my fantasy to have a special strain of weed that everytime I smoke, it permanently bloats my balls, making them permanently overproduce so much cum and testosterone and making me so horny that I can't even think, doing my IQ and reducing me to a gooning pothead himbo.

Advent Calendar - December 6th

I never really thought of myself as the adventurous type. With my head buried in algorithms and codes, my life as a computer science student at the local university was anything but exciting. That is until today, when I stumbled upon something quite out of the ordinary in my holiday advent calendar. The traditional chocolates had been replaced by unique surprises each day, and today's treat stood out - a small pouch filled with weed that emitted a strong whiff of peppermint, it also looked a little bit like a Christmas tree which was a nice touch.

Intrigued by this unusual find, I cautiously inspected the contents. Now, I'm not completely unfamiliar with weed; I had tried it once in the past out of sheer curiosity. I vividly remember the mellow high and occasional giggles that followed. However, this peppermint-scented variant was an entirely different league.

The scent was intoxicating, to say the least, creating a wave of both bewilderment and curiosity. I had never encountered anything like this before. As I held the pouch, the peppermint aroma seemed to cast a spell, drawing me in further. With a mixture of doubt and intrigue, I found myself pondering over the unusual effects this strain might induce. Could it be stronger, more potent than anything I had tried before?

With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I decided to smoke it. As the peppermint-laced smoke filled my lungs, a wave of unexpected sensations began. The scent was indeed hypnotic, drawing me in further with each breath. At first, there was just a faint tingling sensation around my groin, subtle but undeniably present. Then, as if out of nowhere, a surge of raw, intense horniness exploded within me.

I wasn't prepared for the intensity of it, the way it seemed to consume my thoughts and make everything else fade into the background. It was as if my mind was being clouded, the once sharp edges of my intelligence dulled by the overpowering wave of desire. At first, I fought against it, trying to hold on to my rational thoughts even as they slipped further and further away. But the horniness was relentless, its grip on me tightening with each passing second.

The urge to give in became overwhelming, the promise of mindless pleasure too enticing to resist. Gradually, I began to succumb to it, allowing the primal instincts to take over. The initial struggle was replaced by a growing sense of surrender, my once sharp mind now shrouded in a blissful fog of arousal.

As the intoxicating effects of the peppermint weed took hold, my body began to change in ways I couldn't have imagined. Firstly, my arousal seemed to intensify with each passing second. It was as if a never-ending surge of lust pulsed through my veins, making the simplest of thoughts clouded by explicit images and urges. My pupils dilated, the once sharp edges of my vision becoming hazy as if I was perpetually lost in a state of pleasure-filled daze.

But it was the physical changes that truly took me by surprise. I could feel a heavy weight starting to form in my groin, the unmistakable sensation of my balls beginning to swell. They grew larger and heavier, sagging prominently with the sheer abundance of cum and testosterone they were now producing.

Every step I took, every movement I made, the swinging of my heavy balls served as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. And the precum, it seemed to flow endlessly from my overproductive cock, a relentless stream of sticky pleasure that coated my skin. The feeling of it was velvety smooth and enticing, a constant tease that left me wanting more.

Physically, the changes were becoming more pronounced. My once lean frame was now taking on a different form, the slight musculature of a stoner replacing the skinny build of a computer science nerd. The well-defined lines of my arms and chest hinted at a subtle strength, a result of the relentless munchies and munching I found myself indulging in. My body, once devoid of any real muscles, was now adorned with a lanky, lean physique that exuded a distinct aura of musky arousal.

As the weed's effects continued to exert their hold, I could feel my once sharp mind becoming clouded, the complex thoughts and academic knowledge gradually slipping away. In their place, a singular focus emerged - the relentless pursuit of pleasure. Every thought, every action revolved around this basic instinct, the once intricate workings of my intellect replaced by a primal simplicity.

 "Mmm, I like...feel good," these were the words that now dominated my thoughts, a simple and crude expression of the all-encompassing desires that filled my blank mind. I could feel my once extensive vocabulary dwindling, the complex sentences making way for a more straightforward, almost childlike manner of speech. The once intellectual discourse was replaced by a single-minded repetition of basic needs and desires.

I reached down, my large hand gripping my thickened cock, slick with the constant flow of precum. Each stroke felt like a jolt of raw pleasure, the kind that bypasses rational thought and goes straight to the primal core. I could feel the weight of my heavy balls, their persistent sag now serving as a hypnotic rhythm that fueled my growing arousal. My other hand wandered over my lean torso, the subtle strength of a stoner evident in every curve and line. I leaned in, inhaling deeply, my nostrils filled with the unmistakable scent of pit musk - a heady mix of sweat, weed and testosterone that served as an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

As the haze of the weed clouded my already dulled mind, my actions became solely focused on pleasure. The relentless edging sessions, the hours spent in a state of mindless bliss were a testament to this singular pursuit. Each touch, each stroke was a worship of the changes that had taken over my body, a celebration of the unrelenting desires that now defined me.

I gooned hard, the hours blending into a continuous loop of raw pleasure. My once sharp mind was now a blank slate, every rational thought replaced by a simple, crude need for mindless pleasure.

Finally, I could feel it building, a relentless wave of pleasure that seemed to emanate from the very depths of my being. Each stroke, each touch was a step closer to the edge, the promise of release hanging heavy in the thick, hazy air. And then it hit me, I finally succumbed to the ecstasy of release, a jolt of pleasure so intense that it seemed to shatter the very fabric of my senses.

The first rope of cum erupted from my overproductive cock, the force of it hitting me like a physical blow. It was thick, creamy, and unrelenting - a relentless stream of pure bliss that coated my skin in its velvety warmth. I could taste the saltiness of it on my lips, the earthy aroma of musk serving as a constant reminder of the raw eroticism of the moment.

And it didn't stop, the waves of pleasure were continuous, each climax more intense than the last. The cum, it seemed endless - a testament to the overproductive nature of my heavy, sagging balls. It dripped down my body, a tantalizing tease that left me wanting more. Each wave of release was a crescendo of pleasure, the world around me fading into nothingness as the singular focus on my pure, unadulterated ecstasy took over.

With a primal need, I scooped up the thick, creamy cum that adorned my skin. Each finger that dipped into the smooth texture was a deliberate motion, a way to prolong the raw pleasure that the simple act evoked. I could feel the weight of the cum in my mouth, the taste a heady mix of salt and - thanks to the weed - an unmistakable pepperminty sweetness. It was something I savored, each deliberate movement of my tongue a celebration of the raw eroticism that now defined me.

As I lay down in the puddle of my own cum, the surrealism of the moment hit me. And as I succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep, the relentless high of the weed and the lingering taste of my own cum served as a lullaby, each sensation a promise of the raw pleasures that awaited.

—————

As a side note I really fucking hate tumblrs porn ban, I’ve had to delete 3 pics already from this story just to get it live

Birthday Boy

It had been a very complicated period. I had spent the whole of the last quarter studying for my final exams without taking my eyes off the books, aided by the fact that life around me was definitely not going great. I had been dumped by my girlfriend, had a complicated situation with my family, and often took refuge in alcohol or drugs. If Ben had not been there, I don't know what would have become of me.

I didn't know him for very long, about a year or so, but we had become inseparable. He was a regular guy, Ben, diligent in his studies and full of tricks up his sleeve, also a sports lover, quite athletic even if skinny. He was always ready to lend a hand, whether it was a shoulder to cry on or friendly advice. I had a high opinion of him, and I could see that was the same for him; he was really fond of me. When I had to be strong in the last few months and try to graduate despite the fact that my world was collapsing, I knew I could count on him. After everytime we saw each other, I felt lighter and happier, I was really lucky to have met him. Sadly, although I imagined he might be gay -- he had never told me about his sexual orientation -- I was 100 percent straight; if he had been a girl, I would definitely have fallen in love with him, but the conditions were just not there.

My birthday came, just a few days before finals. Obviously I was not in the mood to celebrate, but Ben with an excuse had a surprise party prepared in my apartment. It was special, really: he, my closest friends and I spent an evening drinking and dancing, with no worries or bad thoughts. I found myself eventually stretched out on the couch, drunk and happy; as I watched all my friends say goodbye and go, I smiled carefree. Only Ben remained, intent on helping me clean up the mess left by the party. I told him I would take care of it the next day, but he wouldn't listen to any reason, so I made him stay. After a few seconds I fell asleep, collapsed. I didn't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, everything was perfectly in order. A voice was calling me and I opened my eyes. Ben was standing in front of me.

- "Hey, you're awake then. I just finished cleaning up this whole mess."

He looked at me with kind, gentle eyes. He had really been a sweetheart, I had slept like a drunken jerk without helping him. - "Oh, Ben, thank you really, you've been so precious, you did all this while I was asleep. I don't know how to thank you." - "You don't have to worry about that, you'll know it soon."

Something changed in his gaze. His face, which had seemed innocent and gentle until a few seconds before, was streaked with a malicious smile. - "Wake up, stud."

I felt something at the pit of my stomach, as if someone had punched me. Then from my belly a sensation of heat began to spread throughout my body, reaching my face, arms and legs. Slowly I was awakened from the hangover, weakness and fatigue passing second by second. I was sitting up, my back straight, my gaze fixed on Ben, as I felt my muscles vibrate and, inside my underwear, my cock swell. I was a guy who worked out, although I wasn't very thick; at this moment, however, I could feel my pecs pumping. Without my noticing, my arms were already flexed, my biceps put on show. - "Way to go, big boy. Are you awake now?"

Two words came spontaneously out of my mouth, without me being able to do anything else. - "Yes, master."

Ben smiled smugly. Then he opened his legs and straddled me. I could feel his hard penis beyond his jeans rubbing my pecs. With his hands he began to touch my biceps, satisfied. He reached up with his nose to one of my armpits, pulled out his tongue and licked it for a few seconds, emitting moans of pleasure. I kept looking ahead of me, my gaze fixed in emptiness, my body motionless like a statue. - "You were so good at following my instructions. More gym, less showers…less razors, you finally let yourself grow some fur on your massive chest. Good boy."

He grabbed my pecs with his hands, squeezing them, then moved his lips to one of my nipples. The moment the tip of his tongue touched my chest, an electric shock ran down my spine and I remembered everything.

Ben is not just my best friend. Ben is actually my Master. A few months earlier he had told me for the first time that this was the case. It had happened one night on this very same couch. He told me that he wanted to hypnotize me to make me feel better. I was very skeptical, but I agreed. From that moment, I don't know why, he is my Master and I have the duty,…nay, the pleasure of serving him. When I think about it, it is the most natural and right thing. He is so kind, so loving. I couldn't do anything else. My Master frequently gives me tasks and then tells me to forget about them, but then he compliments me every time I complete them anyway. Every time he makes me remember all about it. He has made me a better person, my Master. Since I have the honor of being his slave, I am happy and relieved. I don't have to think, I only need to obey. Moreover, when I am good, I receive rewards. The best one is when he does me the honor of making him come, using my body. He says my cock is his favorite, that he loves when I put it inside him. I am so excited when he says that, I feel special. We have fucked so many times in the past few months, he tells me I get better after each time. His pussy is different from women's one, it's so warm and tight and cozy and wonderful --- it's the most beautiful thing in the world, because it's my Master's, because it's Ben's. - "It all came back to you, huh? Licking your nipple to make you remember the last few months was an apt trigger, it usually takes you longer." - "Yes, Master, now I remember everything." - "Very good, then you know what to do next."

He lifted one of his armpits toward me and put it on my face. I smelled the best smell ever, it was his scent, It was a musky, masculine essence. With each sniff I felt a growing satisfaction inside me. My cock in my underpants was as hard as stone. I eagerly licked his sweaty armpit, feeling the hairs friction on my tongue as I ran over it. Ben let out moans of ecstasy. - "Bravo, bravo! You're getting better every time!"

The more he gave me compliments, the more my dedication grew, the more passionately I licked. He got to the point where he had to pull away from me, his face was flushed and his breath short. I remained with my tongue out filled with his sweat, like a good little dog, panting. - "Wow, you've really become insatiable. That's why you deserve a birthday present, my stud. Get undressed."

I nodded and took off my clothes in seconds. I stood naked, my body muscled and manly, my throbbing cock straight as a rod between my legs. Ben looked at me satisfied and horny. - "My birthday present will be something that will last forever. From this moment on, in fact, you will never forget what we do together. You seem to me to be ready now to be my full-fledged boyfriend. You know, it's fair for you to know that now. It was from the first moment I met you that I knew I had to make you mine. All these last months, the closeness I showed you, were nothing but mere brainwashing, slow and gradual. Even the end of your relationship with that slut … well, you're looking at the culprit. It only took a few hours with her to convince her to ditch you; she was really a stupid girl. And now here we are, you and me."

He grabbed my nuts with one hand, squeezing and massaging my cock. The words he had just said should have sparked anger inside me, I knew…but it had been just the opposite. I was glad to be the object of his attention for so long. How could it have been otherwise? Ben had helped me find my place in the world, and it was the one by his side. My eyes relaxed, my mouth widened into a blissful smile. - "You are happy, huh, in spite of everything? You will be even more after this."

Ben knelt down and took my cock in his mouth, still looking me in the eye. I felt his lips move up and down on my penis, each movement a thrill of pleasure. I began to moan, grabbed his head and in a rush of instincts began to lead him up and down my dick. He would pull away now and then, letting go a mischievous moan, showing me the threads of saliva and presperm that connected his lips to my cock. Ecstasy was now in control of me, taking every fiber of my body. I held his head pressed to the base of my crotch as my cock burst into his mouth. I could feel him greedily swallowing all the semen I had shot into him, each jet in perfect synchrony with his throat swallowing it. He broke off to catch his breath. - "It's impossible to get tired of your taste, man."

He stood up and kissed me with his tongue, letting me taste my own cum. He encircled my neck with his arms as I even more excitedly lifted him up and carried him to my bed. When I threw him on the mattress, he looked at me in an excited way. - "Fuck me, stud."

Then he got on all fours and turned his back to me, showing me his pussy. When I saw it, as if it were an ancient primal call, something in me awakened. It was Ben's special pussy, the most beautiful hole in the universe. My cock became marble-like again and I rushed to penetrate him. Ben cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as my hands gripped his hips and my 8-inch massive cock entered him wildly. I let out feral moans and grunts. I just wanted to impregnate him, even though something inside me knew it would not be possible. I felt like a stud bull, an animal made only to breed. I erupted inside him again within minutes, just as he too was wetting the sheets with his white jets. As my seed dripped from his male pussy, I lay down beside him on the bed exhausted. He did the same, devastated, then looked into my eyes, smiling. - "Now, this is going to be forever. Me and my studly boyfriend ready to fuck me like an absolute animal."

I smiled back, already thinking about when I could plunge my cock back into Ben. I couldn't have been happier.

The Drifter

Every now and again, when things just weren’t going your way, a brisk hike through the woods always helped to clear your mind. The rustling leaves, chirping of birds, the gravel trail beneath your shoes... it just seemed to help all the troubles and struggles of the day melt away. Today, however, something was off. You parked your car in the North Lot, and being so eager to decompress you left the lights on. Two hours later, you return to a lemon. The battery was dead, and with no one else in the parking lot, your only option was to run to the South Lot where the ranger station was. Thus, you sighed in exhaustion as you turned around and stumbled the long three mile trek to the South Lot.

The park was massive, and only had one main road for cars to pass from the entrance to the two parking lots. The winding gravel road was not particularly well maintained, and you thought to yourself on more than one occasion that the designer of the park must have had some bad Acid when he had routed it. Hard right turns, steep hills and filled with potholes the size of bowling balls. This was hardly the way you’d have preferred to get to the South Lot, but it was the most direct route and had the potential of a passing motorist saving your afternoon. Yet, a mile and a quarter in, not only had no one passed by you, but the sun was beginning to set beyond the canopy above. Surely a park ranger would have seen your car and gone looking before closing the gates?

Regardless of how long you had been walking, in your mind, you’d gone fifty miles. Just as the tree stump tumbled over on the side of the road looked awfully nice to take a quick nap on, a faint red light in the distance caught your eye. Just around the bend, on the other side of the ridge was a black car, and it was running. Relief! What modicums of energy you could expend, you did as you booked it down the gravel road, nearly tripping over your own feet three times enroute. Finally, the sound of a running motor brought such reassurance as you came up on the car. It was an old muscle car, a 1969 Mustang, not that you knew it. All you knew and cared about was the assistance from whomever the driver was. Walking up to the drivers side window, you sigh and prepare to thank the driver...

Empty. The car was running, windows down, The Weeknd blaring on the radio. You looked around the surrounding area for the owner, met only with empty woods at dusk.

“Hello?!” You cried out, now worried that you had stumbled upon a crime scene or a trap. No response. You turned around to glance at the car again, only to see the drivers side door was now ajar. You knew that you hadn’t opened it. You knew that there was no one inside the car, and after a peek under the car you knew there was no one around. It was an old car, perhaps it just didn’t shut properly? Ignoring the implausibility of that thought, you took a seat on the drivers seat, and tried to think of a plan. The sun was setting, you’re sitting in an abandoned car in the middle of the woods, and you’re still miles away from the ranger.

“Get in...” an ethereal voice whispered out of the radio, superimposed over the uninterrupted music. You turned to the old radio, second guessing your senses, not even realizing you had brought your legs inside of the car. The door slowly shut behind you as you examined the radio. The stick shifted into drive, and the car began to lurch forward. Panic set in, it was a trap of some sort. Kidnapping? You were poor no one would pay... Human Trafficking? Maybe, but this was awfully elaborate for that. A prank? A TV prank show was not out of the realm of possibility...

“Relax...” the voice cooed over the radio again, it’s soothing and velvety tone was certainly comforting. The car drove slowly, winding down the road toward the rangers station and the South Lot. Bruno Mars was now serenading on the radio, music that you were rather indifferent to before and yet in that moment it felt as if you knew every word and every verse. You allowed the music to relax you, to let you breathe.

“Smoke...” You looked down at the ashtray, a still smoking blunt sat waiting next to a metal lighter. It felt second nature to you to bring the blunt to your mouth, the dampness of its previous owners lips could still be tasted as you inhaled your first toke. You blew rings of delicate smoke as if you’d been smoking since you were a teenager. The haze of weed washed over you and you sank back into the seat, enjoying the vibes of the music, the smoke, and the drive.

“Let me in... Take the wheel...” You did as instructed. It felt so right to just fall, to just be, to just be driven. Your hands touched the worn leather steering wheel, and a shock ran up through your fingertips all the way to your toes. Your hands grasped the wheel confidently, and shifted gears effortlessly. Surges of energy hit you in waves, each one slowly washing you into a clean slate. Those woes and worries that had brought you into the woods in the first place seemed so far away now. Just the thought of snipping that life away, beginning anew as someone else. No cares, no worries, just the wide world and open road to wander.

“Just drive...” the voice now echoed inside your head, entirely separate from the radio. Zayn now crooned his sultry tones over the speakers, your personal favorite. He reminded you a bit of who you wanted to be: laid back, unbothered, stoic, effortlessly cool... that attitude of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ just gets under your skin and takes control. In fact, you wanted it to. You wanted that attitude, that vibe, that life inside of you. And as it began to flow into you from your hands gripping the wheel, you welcomed the change.

It started with pinpricks, as if your arms had fallen asleep. Yet, as they moved independently of you, grabbing the blunt, taking a toke, shifting into 2nd... it became a different sensation entirely. It was as if water was flowing into you, the swishing and sloshing of liquid within you, flooding from your fingertips downward. Your palms grew sweaty and calloused, doubling in size as they continued driving the car. Little scars and knicks from bygone bar room scuffles adorned your knuckles, drifting free spirits aren’t always welcomed in roadside haunts- so you had learned to handle yourself early on.

Your forearms were growing as well, the viscous sensation flowed upward into your arms, large biceps began to expand your shirtsleeves until your grey shirt had ripped. Poke and stick tattoos sprawled up your tanning skin, an outlet for your creativity and frustrations when you are bored at your Midwest rest stops or refueling at the lonely desert gas stations. Thick tufts of hair sprouted from your pits as the liquid flowed into your broadening shoulders, the remains of your poor shirt falling in shreds around you. A subtle musk started to emanate from your pits, peppery and sharp... one of your favorite scents.

Your chest expanded, two pierced Nipples perked brightly on your glistening, sticky pecs; the droplets of sweat rolled down to your navel, lean abs popping up as they passed by. You feel your posture adjust as your ass rounded out, two firm globes had you spreading your growing legs wide and leaning back into the worn leather seats.

One hand on the wheel, you grab your swelling bulge. The constraints of your pants and underwear was mounting rapidly, and in just moments you’d unzipped your fly, and released your throbbing uncut 10 incher. You groped your balls, cupping them as the grew and dropped like two golf balls in a sac. Just the slightest touch of your coarse, calloused hand on the sensitive tip of your head gave you an involuntary gasp. Pre flowed out like a faucet slipping under your musky foreskin, making every movement and jolt of the car an incredible barrage of ecstasy.

Your thighs ballooned out, and your calves hardened after years of hard work doing short stints in mechanic shops across the country. A couple hours per week, just enough to fix up the car, and keep going to the next place. Your slick, ripe size 13 feet were never going to be tied down to any one place. The world was your playground. You love your freedom, you love your independence, you love yourself, and you’re ready to roam the roads carefree from now until infinity.

Your face was the last to adjust, your eyes turning into a bright minty green, with a healthy scruffy beard sprouting up from your eternally youthful skin. As the liquid flowed up your throat, your Adam’s apple protruded even further, as the pressure kept mounting. By the time it had rushed into your head, luscious blonde locks curled out of your scalp, and earrings popped out as a final cherry on top.

You turned around, grabbing your bag from the backseat, happy to put on your favorite jeans, cleanest tank top, and well worn and loved leather jacket. Your car pulled up to a halt at the ranger station just as you were pulling on your rank harness boots. Musk, weed, and leather smells poured from the open windows as the ranger walked up to the car.

“Hey there’s an abandoned car in the North Lot. Been there for a few hours.” Your velvety baritone voice instantly charmed the man, and combined with the wafting smells from your Mustang he replied,

“Uh... yeah, yeah. Thank you sir... I’ll take a... a... a look...” the ranger stared at the sexy drifter before him, his pants began to tent. You of course took notice, reaching out for a quick grope. He gasped and moaned at your confident grasp. With one single wink, a sticky spot quickly formed in his pants.

“Ay, hurry up and we can go take a drive, whaddya say?”

I enjoyed writing this. Commissioners, your pieces are coming.

In His Home

Timothy stared from across the quad, furiously undressing him with his eyes. Lance Lockhart. For years now he had loved this boy from afar, his every thought, dream, and desire was shrouded in his powerful shadow. And as he innocently studied the silverwood sapling, jotting down whatever measurements he needed for ‘Intro to Botany,’ Timothy did what he always did from afar: daydream. Lance’s favourite grey bro tank and white cap, his silky white wrestling shorts, the gigantic and well worn white and gold Roshes gracing his feet… Every ounce of him was soaked in masculinity, oozed cockiness, and radiated sexual desire.

For one solitary moment, the pair’s eyes met. A sideward glance meeting a deep, invasive stare. Timothy buried his face in his Organic Chemistry textbook, pleading with whatever essence dictated luck that Lance’s gaze had passed him over. For a moment, he thought his childish tactic had succeeded. Yet, as he peeked over the top of the textbook, he saw Lance sauntering toward him across the green. As quickly as he could, he began to pack up his things, foolishly hoping to escape whatever interaction lay ahead. In the mad rush, the small diary he kept since childhood had fallen out of his Patagonia bookbag. Two strong, tan hand gently picked up the leatherbound book, gesturing it to him.

“I think you dropped this.” Lance’s beautiful, velvety, mahogany voice flowed out of his lips; a luscious craving he possessed since middle school. “What’s up Timmy? It’s been a while since I’ve seen ya around!” The two had only one class together, and the dimwitted, yet lovable Lance never let him forget it.

“Yeah, I, uh… Guess we have different schedules or something.” Timothy awkwardly grabbed the book from Lance’s grasp, shoving it deep into his bookbag. He quickly rose up, once again trying to feebly escape from the pleasantries, but felt the jock’s firm grasp envelop his wrist.

“I know it’s a little weird, but I need a favour, bro. Could you watch my dog while I’m in Georgia? We’re facing Emory in the finals, and I just wanna make sure that Ned is all taken care of. You can stay over, and eat my food, play the PlayStation…” Timothy silently nodded, and Lance let out a big sigh of relief. “Fuck, thanks man, here’s the key. I’m heading out in a few hours, so just head over after your classes or whatever. I’ll be back on Monday, aight?” Lance was already halfway across the quad, enroute to the busses which were lining up by the Gym. There was no take backs. Timothy would be spending the weekend at his dream boy’s house.

After he finished the painstakingly difficult Chemistry quiz, he bolted out the door, running for Lance’s place. It was just off campus, one street over from Greek Row. The house was infamous for having ridiculously wild after parties, riding the coattails of the neighboring frat houses’ ragers. As one might expect, the state of the house was slightly run down and decrepit, typical of college housing. The key turned in the front door lock, and opened the replacement front door.

Lance’s house was a disaster zone. From all the Snapchat stories and Facebook posts, this was the aftermath from the ridiculous football party the night before. Red solo cups filled with shitty beers were scattered across the house, atop tables, spilt over on the floor. The remnants of beer pong sat idle on the kitchen table, half smoked blunts and cigarette butts lay extinguished on the trashy linoleum. Even a pair of purple floral panties were strewn over a toppled over chair.

According to the instructions left on the stained countertop, Ned the Doberman was locked up in the bedroom. Timothy made his way upstairs, trudging past crumpled paper plates and crushed beer cans to arrive at the the bedroom door. He heard Ned clawing at the door, whining to be let out, so when the door was slowly opened, the cooped up dog burst out, covering Tim in slobbery kisses. After an adorable reunion, Ned rushed downstairs to eat whatever leftover pizza sat in the abandoned boxes, leaving Timothy alone in his idol’s bedchamber.

The mattress and boxspring sat in the corner of the room, barely covered with sweat stained sheets and cumstained tissues. The room smelt like a locker room, with Lance’s sweaty clothes scattered all around. A black leather Nike gym bag sat half open with a small golden cylinder poking out.

Timothy walked over, realizing the immense opportunity presented to him. He sheepishly opened the zipper, revealing Lance’s weightlifting gear, and a very old fleshlight. The smell of stale cum, smegma, and caked on sweat assaulted his nose.Years worth of wet dreams about what he’d do with Lance’s filthy gear flashed before his eyes, and before he knew it, he was stripping off his clothes. Excitedly, he slipped on the wet compressions & socks, taking a guilty huff of their strong scent. He picked up the black sweatshirt and tossed it on, lifting his arms to sniff the sour stench of pitsweat. He sat down on the bed, running his hands over the damp fabric that now clung to his skin, soaked in Lance’s musky juices.

The fleshlight beckoned to him, begging him to let out all the pent up tension that had built up in his balls. Grabbing the gold fucktoy, he was surprised with how heavy and slippery it was, coated in old lube. He twisted the top cap and pulled it off. Strings of off-white slime clung to the cap as it pulled away from the silicone lips, looking like cheese stretching from pizza. Lance hadn’t ever cleaned it. Old coagulated jizz intermingled with the fresh load he had clearly put in earlier that day, filling the room with salty-chlorine smell of semen. Timothy’s cock throbbed in anticipation, his senses heightened by the olfactory overload of cum and musk.

He pulled back his foreskin, and delicately thrusted his cock into the filthy fleshlight. The cum was slick and viscous, coating him in a thick blanket of smelly slime. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever felt. No wonder Lance hadn’t cleaned it out, the built up loads and massaging protrusions added to the sensory overload.

He could barely breathe, with each thrust his lungs crumpled within him, and his chest was filled with butterflies. He gasped for air, moaning loudly in absolute ecstasy. Every muscle in his body tensed, flexing every muscle, as he launched his hips into the slurping fleshlight.

He didn’t feel his legs bulging, his feet growing, his cock stretching. He couldn’t see the muscles beneath his skin expand and inflate. He couldn’t taste the salty-sweet sweat that was pouring out of his tanning skin. What he could do, was smell every ounce of Lance. His very essence seeping into him like a sponge. As if that heavy, stinking musk had invaded him. And as he added his load into the heavy, warm fleshlight, he couldn’t help but imagine a little bit of that cum slipping into him.

Lance was eager to see what three days of jockification could accomplish. Coach was all too happy to cough up the secret to jocking when Lance had asked him, though his intentions to turn his personal fanboy into a teammate boyfriend remained hidden. As the busses pulled into the parking lot, and his bags were handed to him, Lance took his time sauntering back to his house. He wanted to give his babe as much time as he needed to ripen. So by the time he had turned the key and unlocked the door, he was barely able to contain his excitement.

“Yo, Timmy! You in here?” The muffled sounds of FIFA 17 crept out from behind his closed door. Every step he took up the creaking staircase, his stupid grin grew in anticipation. He reached his door, the daylight pouring in around the doorframe provided a Tumblr-worthy image as he pushed the door open. The same familiar stench that poured from his room was twofold today, strong and heavy in the air. It was almost humid as he stepped inside and saw an unfamiliar face rummaging through the piles of clothes.

“Fuck babe, you’re kinky as hell! You keep your creamed condoms? What the fuck for?” Lance walked further into the room, grinning like an idiot at his Soccer Captain boyfriend wearing his smelly practice gear.

“Good lube for later, bruh. Sebastian, you didn’t take very long!” Lance swaggered over to his studly creation, proud of every solid muscle and vein.The two powerfully embraced, lips locked in sloppy, wet french kiss. Timothy was no more, only the cocky, sport-obsessed persona of Seba was left. Coach Frost would be thrilled to see his newest Soccer player be so damn sexy! Apparently, three days of Musk-Jockification was pretty successful, at least to Lance. The two spent the entire week skipping class, playing FIFA, plowing ass, and huffing eachother’s dirty socks. The new Sunnmore University power couple was sure to bring the university a whole lotta pride.

Walking through the front door, you had no idea that your roommate had bought a bong. Frankly, you didn’t even recognize your roommate! The person that stood before you wasn’t the Jason you left that morning! Your normal, average, quiet roommate was replaced by a young, twenty something stoner with long brown hair and tattoos. Not that it bothered you any, he was kinda cute! 

“Hey, man. Bought a new piece today, and it hits like a motherfucker. Took the day off from work just to christen it! Wanna hit?” You hadn’t ever done marijuana before, and frankly, it kinda scared you. You sheepishly sauntered over to your table, smelling the dank weed waft from the gigantic bong. Strangely, you smelt something else… It was your roomie! He smelled like he hadn’t showered in a couple days, as if he smoked every minute of every day for a week! You could smell his armpits as you neared him, clearly a beautiful musk emanating from them. You always had a musk fetish, but your formerly clean-cut roommate always smelled like Irish Spring! Now, he’s chill as fuck, offering you a hit from a gigantic bong, and has that sweet musky scent about him. What a dream come true!

“Aight, so this stuff is called ‘Pandora’s Box. You know how to hit this thing, right?” You shook your head, causing him to whip out his Bic lighter and quickly ignite the bowl. He took a sizeable hit, and let it out in a huge cloud of smoke. The weed was clearly dank as fuck. When the thick cloud dissipated, you were shocked to see your roomie now had snake bites, an eyebrow piercing, and a tongue piercing. Before you could say anything, your roomie passed you the bong. 

You stared at the huge, dirty glass cylinder. The water was a murky brown, and specks of residue lined the interior of the chamber. Nervously, you stare at your roomie, who is sitting back in his chair, his eyes closed and face toward the ceiling. He was on cloud nine, and you were starting to get a bit jealous. Yet, you witnessed what happened to him. You knew that it could happen to you. You rolled the dice, and flicked the lighter.

A flame danced around the hole, as you brought the bong to your mouth and lit the bowl. The chamber filled with smoke as you inhaled, growing thicker and thicker. Your roomie awakens out of his high and chuckles. “Fuck dude, that is a big hit.” He pulls the stem out, and the grey cloud instantly disappears into your mouth. You slowly let the cloud out. Carried with it is all of your anxiety and stress, your worries and fears, your inhibitions and tightness; all exhaled out of your body. The huge cloud swirls in front of you, clouding your sight. As it dissipates, your roomie is staring at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You feel it, man? It’s dank as hell. It’s gotta be cut with something.” You nod quietly, rolling your tongue piercing around your mouth, and scratching your gauged ears.

“Dude take another hit!” Rocco nudges you, and you quickly hit the bong again. The bowl rolled, and filled the chamber once again with the thick grey smoke. This time, you swear you see glimmers of blue, red, green, & purple. You pull the stop out, and familiarly inhale the smoke. It really doesn’t taste as bad as the Molly you tried the other day. You let the cloud out of your mouth, the world around you becomes slightly wobbly and distorted. You rub your eyes with your fully sleeved arms, your proudly displayed finger tattoos seemingly move before you! You smile and hit the bong again.

“Shit dude, another one?” Rocco lets out a chuckle. “Save some for me!” You let out the hit, and stare at your boyfriend. His dopey demeanour just how you like it, relaxed and a bit confused. He runs his hands through your messy fauxhawk and onto your high cheekbones. You feel his other hand lift up your shirt and run across your rippled abs and pierced nipples. 

“Ay, hit this, so we can head out soon.” You smirk, knowing you had a shipment of Acid coming in tonight that will sell like wildfire. As your boyfriend takes the bong from you, you look down at your black, yellow, and green pot socks. You knew they stunk to high hell, as your size 13 feet were never seen without them on, but meh. Whatever. You pull one to your face and take a deep whiff. You smell the subtle but clearly evident musk emanating from them, mixed with the permanently stained weed smell: the perfect combo. I mean, what do they expect? When you tear up the halfpipe as sick as you do, you’re gonna get sweaty & smelly. It’s the nature of things, so why worry about it? Your trashed red Vans smell worse anyway.

Later that night you pick up your shipment as planned, and immediately sell $6000 worth of prime acid tabs. The first thing you buy? More of Pandora’s Box. Sharing is caring, ain’t it? You pull up your phone and begin to dial.

Rendezvous

Browsing through Sniffies, Maurice sighed gruffly. After six or seven weeks of coming up with zero responses, he was ready to throw in the towel. He was lonely, working a dead-end job downtown with no real trajectory or path to self-improvement, living alone in a house crumbling to debris around him. He was hoping one, just one guy would return his advances, just one little victory to put under his belt amongst the plethora of disappointments. He felt the ever watchful eye of his manager looming over him as he sat behind his desk, looking for any reason to have a "meeting" about his efficiency. Scrolling under the desk, he hoped that as long as his work was complete by lunch, he would avoid any unpleasant lectures. Under his breath, he muttered the names of the nearby guys looking for trade.

"BigDaddy69... Cockinator5000... Scatterino... TitsMcGeeTheGreat... Ugh, what the fuck, man. This is bullshit. None of these guys are even interesting to me, and I still can't even get a response." Frustrated, he slammed his phone onto the desk and continued typing away at his spreadsheets. More than anything in the world, he just wanted someone to be there by his side as he weathered the bullshit of the world, but be it his body, his face, his personality, something... there were never any interested parties. As he continued to plug away at the monthly expense report, his phone vibrated against the desk. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Surely his boss couldn't be ready to scalp him for not having an expense report ready before the last day of the month... Dreading the barrage of gaslighting and tedious sanctimony, he slowly grabbed the phone and turned it over, opening his eyes.

!!New Message from: BrotatoChip on Sniffies!!

His jaw dropped to the floor. Besides the ridiculous name, he was floored. This was the first message in months, and it wasn't even someone he'd contacted. He swiped his finger across the cracked screen, opening the Sniffies page immediately. There, in bold, was the message. He cautiously tapped on the profile, and when it popped up, he was even more dumbfounded. He was a hunk! One of those stereotypical dude bros he avoided eye contact with at the gym, naturally handsome, muscles with bulging veins, a bountiful beard, showing off one of the wettest armpits he'd ever seen. The tank top he wore looked equally as drenched, and the dominant scowl on his face immediately brought pause to Maurice. He was definitely emitting Alpha-bro vibes, surely amongst the BO that would waft around him.

Yet, to Maurice, it was immaterial. It was the first fish on the line in quite some time, and he wasn't going to let the moment pass. He scrolled through the profile: 24 years old, 6'3, 195 lbs, 9.5" uncut, fit, gay, vers, jock... quite the stats. Strangely, his bio only had a bunch of emojis one after another. Skeptical, but desperately hopeful, Maurice tapped on the conversation to see what he was sent.

BrotatoChip: Whassup bro! How you doin' today?

Maurice smiled warmly, eager to jump right into the fray. He responded meekly with a generic "Hey how's it going," in hopes that the neutrality of his statement would bely his true excitement. He moved his finger to the lock button, only to have the guy respond almost immediately to him. Maurice raised an eyebrow in intrigue and read the message.

BrotatoChip: It's going good, dude! I just finished going to the gym, working out with some of my bros and trying not to stare at their beefy pecs. Hahahah. What about you, bro?

Maurice grimaced, the guy spoke like a neanderthal. But, beggars can't be choosers. At least he was nice to look at. He crafted a careful reply.

Maurice1280: Ugh. I’m stuck at work. The daily grind, you know? Would much rather be there!

BrotatoChip: Aw, I'm sorry dude. The grind is the worst. I hope your boss lets you leave early to go hit the gym instead! But it sure is dope of you that you still took the time to chat with me! I'm Chip, by the way.

Alright, that was kinda cute. He was no Lord Byron, but at least he seemed sincere. At least, as sincere as you can be from typing behind a phone screen.

Maurice 1280: I'm Maurice! And if I could skip out I would. Feels like a better use of my time ya know? It sounds really nice to spend time with friends at the gym.

BrotatoChip: Oh fuck yeah, bud! We really get pumped! And after, I'm always sure to take off my worn-out tennis shoes that reeeeally stink, and then I don't bother to wash them because I know a bro will come and sniff them and love them! Do you like it when the shoes stink, bro?

Maurice sat at his desk, unsure of how to respond. It was rather forward of Chip, certainly. Though, perhaps from the sweaty profile picture and the simple fact that he was on an app called Sniffies would have prepared him for a guy into scentplay. He'd never tried it before, but it wasn't as if he'd had a lot of musky himbos knocking at his door to try it with. He wasn't against it by any means, but it was far from the top of his list of priorities. Yet, for the sake of pursuing the dim lug, he decided to play into it.

Maurice1280: Dude… I fucking love it. Kinda get off on it if I’m being honest!

BrotatoChip: Really? That's hot! I think I'll keep going to the gym without socks, so my feet can get really sweaty and gross, and the shoes are all rank with my hot stank. How does that smell sound to you, huhuhu?

Maurice1280: That sounds... mouthwatering.

BrotatoChip: Heh, thanks, bro… It's nice to know that another guy will be turned on just by sniffing my hot, ripe feet. Man, that's really hot, huhuhu. Maybe you should take breaks during the day and come meet me in the gym parking lot. It's private back there, and the bro air is gonna be hot and sweaty from me and the boys working out, you know?

Was this... Was this an invitation? Really? At last? Was it what he was expecting? No, absolutely not, but who knows what would happen. He sat back and reflected on how many times he'd been ignored, tossed aside, and never given a chance. Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing to give a shot to the one guy who gave him a chance.

Maurice1280: Oh man… is that… is that an invitation?

BrotatoChip: Yeah dude! I'm gonna be in the parking lot for my one-hour rest break after I finish these deadlifts. I'm gonna be taking my worn-out, rank tennis shoes off after the workout, and I'm looking forward to having your feet slide into them. Think you'll be able to resist the temptation to sniff my bro toes? I know I'm gonna have you gagging with my stinky, sweaty puppies, huhuhu. If you're down, of course!

Maurice felt a strange sense of anticipation. He even started to like the sound of Chip's ideas. He'd try anything once, and if Chip was as friendly as he was on the app, perhaps it could be nice? After all, what's more intimate and sensual than indulging in some body worship? He found himself actually starting to believe the messages he'd exchanged with Chip. He'd read enough Tumblr smut to at least have an idea of what to do. With a blush-tinged smile, he replied.

Maurice1280: I think I could probably sneak away during lunch!

BrotatoChip: Fuck yeah, good idea bro! Nobody would think anything of it if you took an extended lunch break, especially if you're gone for a while…. That's an hour you could be gettin' some quality time if you know what I'm sayin!

Maurice1280: Fuck man, I don’t know if I’d wanna go back to work after something like that. Sounds too good to be true!

BrotatoChip: Heh, that's just cause you haven't had a bro! Or a couple of bros... Huhuhu! I'm sure after I'm done with you, you'll have a whole horde of thirsty, sweaty himbos who always want to sniff your hot, rank feet and worship your huge swole arms.

Maurice1280: Ah... You might be disappointed, then. I'm not really athletic or anything. Just a couple of cardio days at the gym every few weeks for me. I'm no beefcake.

BrotatoChip: You let me worry about that, bro. It's almost my hour break, and I'm feeling pretty worn out. I can't wait to take off my sweaty, stinky shoes and let you come sniff them and slide em on like I know you want to.

This guy was a freak... But it was a change of pace, it was exciting, and he was undoubtedly hot...

Maurice1280: Well, alright then. If you send me the location I'll meet up with you. See you soon!

He waited merely five seconds before a live location was shared with him. The gym was a stone's throw away from the office downtown, walking distance. Maurice shook off the nerves and hit 'plan route.'

---

The summer day was hot- blistering almost, as Maurice made his way down the side alley. The gym was in a warehouse by the docks, some sort of CrossFit specialization. It was a place he'd never venture if not for Chip's rather forward advances. As the alleyway cleared into a wider area covered in shitty, torn up astroturf and miscellaneous kettlebells & tractor tires. He was definitely in the right place. There, just beyond the plastic muscle garden was the parking lot; and hanging around a beat up Supra were four gigantic dudes laughing like hyenas. Among them, arguably the largest of them, was Chip.

He stood a solid 3 or 4 inches above the rest of his comrades, and was just as attractive in person as his photos. That stringy purple bro tank of his showed off his wide, muscular back and massive arms dripping with the sweat of a long gym session. On his huge feet, a pair of extremely beat up Nike Free 5.0 trainers; formerly bright white, and now yellowed with sweat from daily gymgoing since at least 2014 when the shoe came out. Did Maurice know this? Of course not, to him the shoes were on a hot guy, and that's what mattered to him.

Chip was bursting at the seams laughing at Brody's gross joke, tossing his head back as he belched out his booming chortle. As he did, he saw Maurice standing by the gym, looking rather sullen in his cheap button up and khakis. Chip turned around and grinned from ear to ear. The little guy was cute, very much your run of the mill boy next door type, but endless potential. As Chip smiled and waved at him, the other guys around him chuckled to eachother; smirking and ribbing eachother as their leader strode towards the nervous little shrimp.

Maurice smiled and waved back, sheepishly walking toward the Greek God that was jogging at him. The closer he got, the difference in scale became clearer and clearer. Maurice felt like a child compared to Chip, he was at least a foot taller than he, and muscles that doubled him in size. The fact this guy was 24 was unbelievable. Maurice extended his hand to shake it, only to be met with a bear hug by the sweaty giant.

"Oh! Uh, hey there! Good to actually meet you!" Chip dropped Maurice back onto his feet. "Damn, dude that must have been quite the workout, you're drenched!" Maurice looked down at his cleanly pressed work shirt, now patched with sweat marks. Chip smirked and bounced his pecs.

"Yeah dude! I've been going extra hard today with the bros…I just can't stop pumping that iron. Like what you see, right?" Chip winked at Maurice, instantly flushing his face with a deep red. He would do what he had to do to suppress whatever insecurities arose from the difference in his perceived attractiveness, not that Chip would have noticed such shortcomings anyway. Maurice leaned a bit to the right, watching as the hunk's friends stared at them with jeering smiles.

"Yeah... I sure do... I didn't know you were with friends, though." Chip turned, only now realizing how intimidated his little date might feel around a hoard of sweaty muscleheads. He chuckled to himself, and ruffled Maurice's hair.

"Yeah, well, maybe all these guys would like a chance to get in on the action…but only if you want to, bro. If you want to have some time with my big, muscular body all to yourself, I can tell the other bros to take a hike and we can head across the parking lot to the car… If you aren't getting cold feet." Maurice read this for what it was; a challenge. A playful one at that, but he could tell that Chip was testing his boundaries, but leaving the ball in his court. He came to be with one hot guy for an hour of bliss, but now he had the opportunity for four? Was it dangerous? It was broad daylight, which he hoped would dissuade anyone from doing anything they shouldn't... and if he was being honest with himself, the idea of spending some time with four muscular dudes wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"I mean, as long as I get to be with you I don’t care what other sexy dudes come join in. I came to… hang with you. You take priority here." Chip stood back for a moment, seemingly touched by the earnestness in which Maurice presented himself there. The little guy was putting himself at Chip's mercy, and it was an opportunity he wasn't going to pass up. Though in the back of his mind, cogs began to turn.

"Yeah, the fact that such an attractive guy has such a clear attraction towards me and my big, buff, stinky body… well, that kind of has me feeling like the best thing since bottle preworkout. Huhu…." His dim laugh really spoke volumes besides the decibel, Chip wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack. It was somehow endearing to Maurice, and making him feel more secure in being around guys who may have been as sweet as this dumbass. Chip threw his arm around Maurice; the hot, wet hairs in his pits sitting just to the right of his face, as the duo strutted toward the car. Chip's friends started high fiving and whispering amongst eachother: to them, another fun little conquest under their jockstraps. To Chip, on the other hand, perhaps something more.

The crowd parted as they arrived at the car, moving their quiet cheering a foot or two away from the car. Maurice smiled and waved at them, which had all three of them winking, flexing and puckering their lips. Idiots, all of them, but harmless for now. As Maurice opened the car door, the intensely hot and humid air from inside seeped out like molasses from the car. The scent was ripe, like an entire NBA locker room condensed into a little Supra sedan in the baking summer sun.

Maurice took a seat in the car, and Chip plopped down in the driver's seat. He turned to his puny Sniffies date awkwardly smiling at him. Smirking, Chip shut the door, and began to slip off his beat up sneaker. Almost immediately, the stink in the car intensified. Like a mixture of blue cheese and camembert after being microwaved. Chip lifted his sweaty bare foot onto the dash, flexing his massive bicep.

"Fuck, bro. Those puppies are ripe! Here, take a whiff!"

That smile… Those huge arms… Those size 15 monster feet… And that smell… Maurice couldn't have a single coherent thought outside of 'please let me have them.' With Chip grinning his pearly whites, Maurice brought his face just close enough to feel the heat radiating from the meaty sole. Just as he was preparing to take his breath, he felt Chip's calloused fingers on the back of his head, and his face soon collided with the sticky sole of his foot. Outside of the car, the three other jocks watched intently, pawing at their growing bulges as Maurice began to feverishly sniff their bro's ripe foot. They were all too familiar with the scene, as they all savored their moments not just with Chip but eachother as well, and they were drooling to get in on that action.

"Fuck yeah, bud! Get some of that good shit. Stick your tongue out!" Maurice did as he was told, letting his tongue gently slide up the sole of Chip's foot. Over callouses, between his toes, suckling on every fragrant inch of the foot, Maurice had never felt more alive than in that moment. The hours… no, days spent wasting away at that shitty office, when he could have been savoring Chip's flavorful body. As Maurice savored the salty, funky flavor of his feet, Chip leaned back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head and taking in the smell of his own ripe pitsweat. By the time Maurice had come up for a breath of air, he turned to the window to see the three jocks leaning in against the window of the car, their sweaty dicks all being out and in hand. Chip smirked, "What do you think, bud? Think you're ready for a party?" Maurice turned and smiled.

"Let's go." Those two simple words were enough to send Chip into a frenzy, as he grabbed Maurice by the head and pulled him into a deep kiss. The bros outside start cheering, and pulling at the door. Chip took no time in pulling both himself and Maurice into the backseat, while the other three piled in the car: two in the front and one joining them in the back. Maurice was so enamoured with Chip's sensual kisses and firm gropes, he was oblivious that the jocks began to strip their gymwear from their sweaty, muscular bodies, tossing them into a pile in the back as they began to swap spit and sniffs.

The car windows were fogging from the heat, and in the dead of summer that is tough to do; but the humid stink of four massive sweaty jocks and one normie was enough to make the interior of the car feel like the Amazon Rainforest. Sticky, hot, sweaty, wet, and musky, the jocks began to pry the clothes right off of Maurice as he continued to suck Chip's tongue. Before long, he was bare ass naked, with meaty hands all over his body; roaming, groping, squeezing, and pumping. Chip pulled away from the kiss for just enough time to let Maurice moan from the pleasure.

"Whaddya think, bro? Wanna roll with us?" Maurice could only squeak out an affirmative, as he began to suckle on one of the jock's fingers. Chip let out a hardy chuckle. "Fuuuuuuuck yeah, bro. I'm gonna make you one of us. I wanna show you just how good and manly it feels to be a gay meathead like us! I wanna get you dripping with sweat and smelling like a man. I wanna see your muscles pumped, your body pumped, your brain pumped……all with man musk, huhu…." Chip nodded to the other jocks in the car, it was time for some initiation. One by one, the jocks picked an article of their gym clothes from the pile in the backseat. Maurice suddenly felt a warm, wet fabric being shoved down his arms. He opened his eyes, and one of the bros had slipped their sweaty white tank top onto his slim frame. Before he could protest, not that he would have at that point, Chip had taken the liberty of straddling him, pulling down his shorts and yellowed jockstrap to reveal his thick, musty uncut dick. Maurice had little time to admire the easily 11 inch cock before Chip plowed it straight into his mouth. The taste was tangy, salty, cheesy, and irresistible as Chip made easy work of the man's throat and mouth.

As the rhythmic face fucking continued, another jock slipped their ripe jockstrap and black shorts onto Maurice, leaving just enough room up top for his cock to be sucked by the hunky lug. The last one pried the sweaty cap from his head, slamming it down onto Maurice's head as Chip thrust forcefully into his mouth. The scene was surreal- this normal guy decked out in four dude bro's nasty gym gear as they pleasured him: his mouth gagged by Chip's musty cock, his own cock being sucked, his own ass being eaten, his own pits being huffed... A pervert's dream. Chip's pace began to hasten, his breath becoming bated and shallow.

"Ohhh fuck, bro... You ready? Fuuck I'm gonna blow one big ass load into you. You want that? You want my seed inside you, bro?" Maurice could only say yes with his eyes, looking Chip directly in those sapphire eyes with the faintest gleam. Huffing as he finally began to climax, Chip let out one final grunt: "Welcome to the club, bro!" Immediately, the floodgates opened. The first torrent of Chip's potent spunk went barreling down Maurice's throat, a gush that lasted a total of 10 seconds uninterrupted. More and more cum came flooding into Maurice's gut, Chip's sweaty balls still slapping against his chin as they pulsated. It started in his belly, as it inflated fairly quickly with the spunk, expanding like a water balloon filled with cum. The jocks began to knead at it, smirking as the seed started flowing out into his muscles and bloodstream.

From the bulbous gut, a firm six pack of abs popped out one by one as the cum squeezed into their muscle fibers. Two prominent cum gutters quickly followed suit, along with a quickly inflating ass beneath him. Maurice could feel himself being inundated, taken over by Chip's essence, but he was so in the thralls of euphoria and gleeful at the prospect of this being his new life that it couldn't matter any less. Two juicy pecs pillowed out, as his back expanded with thick, carved muscle. His fingers began to swell, and callouses began to develop on his palms while his biceps and triceps quickly swelled with jiggling muscle and bulging veins. His legs swelled quickly, his calves becoming hard as rocks and his thighs firm with a nice layer of fat just as bristly hairs began to sprout from his skin.

"Ahh, bro, your legs are getting huge, huhu…. those tight shorts are almost cutting off your circulation bro! Ahh man, you look so damn good now, huhu……your body looks huge and muscular and sexy as hell…" Chip's dim-witted voice soared over the moans and sounds of wet kissing and stretching skin as more cum shot out of his musky rod like a geyser. Maurice's feet began to swell and crack, growing and expanding quickly. Size 10... Size 11... Size 13... Size 14... Finally filling up with as much seed as possible at Size 15, they immediately began to emit a ripe funk of their own, one that did not go unnoticed. Maurice felt tongues lapping at the sweat dripping from his meaty soles, a feeling that began to feel so right and so empowering. He grabbed the back of Chip's firm ass, pushing his face harder against his groin, milking every drop from his bro's ripe cock.

The spunk had filled every possible crevice and fiber of him, so as it started to slowly rise up his throat, pooling in his mouth, he could feel the pressure growing in his head. His cheeks started to swell as the cum had no where else to go, the pressure growing and mounting against the top of his palette. Chip smirked with one final and extremely rough thrust. Something popped in the back of his head, and the cum rushed up into his skull. His head started to feel tight and malleable, as his features began to shift and change. His brows lowered and thickened, his lips swelled into plump kissers, his nose widened and the veins in his muscular neck prominently bulged out. As Chip slowly removed his cock from Reece's dripping mouth, his dim witted, empty brained bro could only smile and pant.

"Shiiit, bro. Lookin' fine as fuck, aren't we?" Chip smirked as he looked down at his creation with pride. Reece smiled as he panted.

"Yo, bro. That shit was fire! Look at me, bro!" Reece slid upright, flexing his new muscles with that trademark emptyheaded look on his face.

"Lookin' like a real bro now, Reece! Just one thing missing." Chip turned to their bros in the front seat, grinning from ear to ear as his stanky sneakers were placed in his hands. "From me to you, bro." Chip slid the sweaty sneakers onto Reece's feet, a perfect fit.

"Awww, bro!" Reece chided, as he pulled Chip in for a kiss. The two locked lips, pulling eachother tightly together while their friends went to town on eachother.

---

The gym attendant had plenty of experience with the group of dipshits plowing eachother in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time someone came in to complain about the car rocking from side to side with an orgy of men inside. He trudged across the hot asphalt toward the Supra, windows completely fogged up. He sighed as he knocked on the car window, watching as the rocking of the car quickly subsided and a guffaw of dim witted chuckles quietly rang out inside the car.

"Okay, Chip. Hope you got your nut, but the neighbors are complaining again... Open up." The window slowly rolled down, and a thick haze of manscent gushed out of the opening. Inside, five ripe, ripped dudes all smiling and snickering- one of which was unfamiliar. "New guy, then Chip?" Chip smirked.

"Yeah, Clint. This is my boy Reece. He's probably gonna join the club. Right, Reece?" The massive stud of a man in the drivers seat leaned over the armrest, licking the cum off of his moustache.

"Yeah, bro. This place seems tight. I'll be in to sign up in a second, unless..." Reece's sultry gaze stared holes into Clint's soul, as he leaned in closer, gripping Chips prominent bulge in the passenger's seat. "Unless you wanna hop in with us, bro? Bet I'll get you sweating before the sun goes down."