californicazn

[californicazn]

[californicazn]

Just something quick I've been sick and doing some part time work to pay bills GOD my ass felt so good, i couldn't take it off even if i wanted to. it was supposed to be a joke. I stole my roommates singlet, he was always so annoying and cocky, making fun of me just because I was some nerd and loudly fucking all those Twinks that went to his matches behind a thin wall. I always heard them moaning his name begging for more.

Look i had no problem with the gay thing it was just so inconsiderate...and weird. So I stole his singlet when I woke up this morning before he left. It would be so funny to see him on social media posted by his college wrestling teammates in some lost and found shit. I was just supposed to steal it not wear it.

Its just when i touched it it felt so....good. I thought why not, not even commando I slid it up, the fabric oversized, and reeking of sweat and musk. It was just supposed to be for a sec but they SNAPPED to my shoulders. The Fabric Sinking to my skin becoming SKIN TIGHT.

I tried to pull it off I did, but each tug PULSED the fabric, massaging my muscles, my cock, balls, AND ASS. I had to grab the table, my mind blurring as my chest burst forth with muscle. Two slabs of pure beef grace my chest as my hands caress each arm letting my new bulging biceps grace my form.

triceps begging to be worshipped as i did a double bi pose, my abs popping up like cobblestones as my waistline tappers down.

I gain my sense back briefly, my hands pulling at the singlet trying to get if off when I see the brand, and just know im fucked. KOK

I feel my balls fill with cum, my brain emptying, no longer able to think just

KOK

KOK

COK

COCK

the word beating against my head as the fabric beats my MEAT. My ass jiggling with each THRUST as it bubbles out, my legs growing to support my new bubble butt. IM SO CLOSE I JUST NEED

KOK

KOK

COK

COCK

"Hey Roomie do you know.." My roommate enters the common area wearing just his towel seeing me hump the couch basically. in a quck second he drops his towel in shock and all I see is COCK

[californicazn]

iPod People60

Glen was drifting, drifting in a fog of purple.

He dimly remembered his uncle Dan sending him a video on his phone. After that, there was only the purple.

A voice penetrated the haze. “So you’re Danny’s nephew. He said you were a hunk. Let’s see how accurate he was. Take off your shirt, do a double bicep pose and hold the camera on the phone so I can see all of you.”

He had to obey the voice. It seemed like Glen could hear screaming from far away, screaming that he should stop, screaming that he should throw the phone away.

“But why?” he asked the distant screaming. “I must obey.” He pulled his shirt off over his head, dropping it on the floor. He stood in front of the mirror, arms up and flexed.

“Hunk is an understatement. Like uncle, like nephew. Danny says you’re one of the stars of your wrestling team. I can imagine what you look like in a singlet. You’re wearing a cross. How religious are you?”

Glen answered, of course. He would tell the voice anything it wanted. “Very. I go to church every Sunday.”

“After the reprogramming is done, you will worship only me. You want me to be your god, don’t you?”

Glen was confused. There was only one God. But maybe this voice was the voice of God. Only God could make him obey like he was doing now. “I, yes I, I want you to be my god.”

“Excellent. Just what I wanted to hear. When you are at home, make sure you will be undisturbed and watch the video your uncle sent. Only three times a day, though. When the conversion is complete, you will know you are my slave forever. Then call me. We will meet, and we shall get to know each other better. Your uncle will join us, so we can have some family bonding. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I will watch the video three times a day. When I know I am completely your slave I will call you.”

“Good. Now put your shirt back on and forget what happened since your uncle sent the video. But obey all my commands.”

“I will obey.” He had to obey. He wanted to be a slave. It was what he wanted. What he needed. The sooner he became a slave, the sooner he could meet his master. Master. That’s who the voice was. His god, his master. “I will obey, master.”

[californicazn]

HIMBO HALLOWEEN- ASZ FRAT HIMBO APOCALYPSE

This is months late sorry xD

It was just a normal afternoon here at ASZ, the frat was loud and the beer was flowing. Seth here was enjoying his time Infront of the mirror as he got ready for the party his FRAT BROS were pregaming for. There'd be plenty of babes and debauchery to go around and as they all parties the night away. Sure Seth had been a bit worried this morning, the frat pres and their vice had made some loud noises upstairs and hadn't come down to prep with them but everyone had kind of assumed their BROS had needed to work off a hangover after those girls came by to celebrate their DUNK on that KOK Frat.

It wasn't everyday we got a win against those fairies. Both of us being magic frats made the competition fierce and heavy, so when our pres led one of em on for awhile and embarrassed him we had to celebrate.

It wasn't till Seth had to grab something nearby the presidential sweet that problems started to occur. The air was thick with MUSK. The smell of MAN, SWEAT...and CUM hung in the air. The lights flickering as he opened the bathroom door, soft moans and deep groans sounding off as energy PULSED through the walls. Seth heard the sound of flesh bouncing on flesh as he went inside only to be greeted by his FRAT PRES ass up face down while their vice was fucking him.

It would have frozen him if it wasn't for his instinct to PROTECT his frat pres kicked in. Trying to pull the vice president off of him. Not even noticing how the two men were bulkier, how the two men were oiled up or how his president was BEGGING for more cock. With a swipe of his hands he felt no friction or hold on the man as his palms got COVERED in oil. Not just any oil, HIMBO OIL.

He should have checked or detected the magic, all he could do now was panic. He tried backing away but his BROS knew he was there now. With a few grunts and thrusts the Vice president finished BREEDING his superior before they both got up and approached. Their hands, covered in the most contagious and magically arousing substance on the planet reached for Seth and all the Frat member could do was moan as his cock hardened and he accepted his fate. Knowing the more he fought the more depraved he'd become.

The feel of hands on Seth's chest was divine. So blissful, so pleasurable that he didn't care as they were PULSED. As his once proportional physique was changed. As his Pecs became PILLOWS, as the oil dropped down his abs, down to his waist which became a trim arrow with cum gutters that pointed right down to his cock which was slowly engulfed by his frat presidents mouth. Growing it as his mind emptied of all his knowledge, his personality, hell even basic info as he became a fuck machine. His muscles bulging with each touch. His ass becoming the PERFECT bubble butt as the other mans cock went in, his hole becoming more sensitive and needy as he started to be bred.

It wasn't long before Seth was gone. And the infection had to spread.

__________

Seth the HIMBO was looking down at the grade A piece of ass he was fucking, drooling pouring from his mouth as he mindlessly rutted into the former straight boy who was BEGGING to be changed. ASZ was under quarantine, every brother stuck inside the Frat house, doomed to be infected before the contagion ended, leaving them a frat house of fully gay, needy HIMBOS.

[californicazn]

Ethan and Jake sat on the couch, controllers in hand, completely engrossed in their game. It was a typical Saturday night for the two best friends, an evening dedicated to gaming marathons, junk food, and mocking each other’s gameplay.

"Dude, you’re trash," Ethan said, leaning forward as his character narrowly avoided defeat.

Jake laughed, slapping his thigh. "Says the guy who hasn’t beaten me once tonight. You might as well hand me your controller and go cry in the corner."

The room was as chaotic as ever: a pile of laundry in the corner, empty soda cans and snack wrappers scattered on the coffee table, and mismatched furniture that screamed "broke guys in their twenties." The flickering glow of the TV lit up their faces as they played, completely unaware of the subtle, creeping changes happening around them.

It started in the air—a subtle shift in pressure, like a storm was rolling in. The faint scent of musk and cologne seemed to settle over the room. Ethan wrinkled his nose and glanced around. "Do you smell that?"

Jake sniffed the air and shrugged. "You mean your loser stink? Yeah, man. Maybe try showering sometime."

Ethan rolled his eyes, but the faint smell didn’t dissipate. If anything, it grew stronger, richer, as if it were coming from somewhere nearby. He fidgeted on the couch, tugging at the collar of his shirt. It felt tighter than usual, like it was clinging to him in the heat that had suddenly filled the room.

Jake stretched out beside him, one socked foot propped up on the coffee table. His shorts seemed to ride a little lower on his hips than usual, but he didn’t notice. He was too focused on the game, though his fingers twitched on the controller, and a faint itch started spreading along his arm. He scratched it absently, but it persisted.

"Ugh, this stupid tattoo feels itchy—" Jake started, then froze.

Ethan glanced at him. "What tattoo?"

Jake blinked and looked down at his arm. There, on his left bicep, a vivid, detailed lion had appeared, its mane swirling with geometric patterns that stretched down to his forearm. He rubbed at it, confused. "I—I don’t remember… getting this," he muttered, his voice quieter, deeper than usual.

"Uh, yeah, obviously. You’ve never gotten a tattoo," Ethan said, laughing nervously. But as the words left his mouth, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. He stared at Jake’s arm again, and the sight of the ink didn’t seem so strange anymore. A memory—faint and blurred—tugged at his thoughts. Hadn’t Jake always had that tattoo? He shook his head, trying to focus.

Jake frowned, his hand moving to the chain around his neck. He didn’t remember putting on a necklace tonight, but there it was—a silver chain that felt cool against his skin. He tugged at it absently, his thumb brushing his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The heat in the room intensified. Ethan’s shirt clung to him uncomfortably, the fabric tightening across his shoulders. He reached up to adjust it, but as his hand brushed his chest, the shirt simply… dissolved, leaving him shirtless. His jaw dropped, and he stared down at his chest.

"What the hell?" he muttered. His torso was broader than he remembered, his pecs slightly defined, as if he’d been hitting the gym regularly. He traced a hand over the faint dusting of hair that had appeared on his chest, his breath quickening.

Jake glanced over at him and smirked. "Nice look," he said, his tone teasing but slightly off. His voice had grown richer, smoother, and the playful jab felt… different. Intimate.

Ethan felt a warmth rise in his cheeks, and he turned his attention back to the screen. "Shut up, man. Focus on the game." But his hands felt clumsy on the controller now, his thoughts muddled.

Jake stretched again, his socked foot brushing against Ethan’s leg. Ethan wrinkled his nose. "Dude, your socks reek," he said, leaning away.

Jake just laughed, a low, rumbling chuckle that made Ethan’s stomach flutter in a way that was entirely unfamiliar. "You love it," Jake teased, his words dripping with confidence.

Ethan opened his mouth to retort, but the words got caught in his throat. Did he? His thoughts twisted uncomfortably, memories flickering at the edges of his mind. He could almost picture himself grabbing Jake’s ankle, playfully pulling him closer, their laughter filling the room. No, that didn’t make sense. Why would he do that?

"Dude, stop spacing out," Jake said, nudging him with his elbow. "I swear, sometimes you’re so damn scatterbrained, Lucas."

Ethan blinked. "Lucas? What the hell? You just called me Lucas."

Jake furrowed his brow. "No, I didn’t. I called you Ethan. Don’t be weird."

"You literally just said—" Ethan started, but the name stuck in his head. Lucas. It sounded… right, somehow. Familiar.

He shook his head, trying to focus, but the game no longer seemed important. His eyes kept drifting to Jake—to the way his tattoos flexed with every movement, the way his chain caught the light, the casual confidence in the way he sprawled across the couch. Ethan’s mouth felt dry.

Ethan’s gaze flickered to Jake—and his lips twitched into a smirk. "You’re acting weird, Adrian. Everything okay?"

Jake froze. "What did you just call me?"

"Uh, Adrian?" Ethan said, as though the name were obvious. He frowned. "Wait, that’s not your name… is it?"

Ethan—Lucas?—stared at him. "No, it’s not. I’m—" His voice faltered. Wasn’t it? The name felt so natural, so… right.

The tension between them grew heavier. Lucas’ eyes traced the lines of Jake’s—no, Adrian’s—tattoos, the way the ink seemed to suit him perfectly. Adrian’s smirk deepened as he caught Lucas staring.

"You’re such a mess tonight," Adrian teased, his voice low and rough. He leaned closer, his hand resting on Lucas’ knee.

Lucas’ breath hitched, his heart pounding. He couldn’t remember why this felt so wrong. Or why it felt so right.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in. Their faces were inches apart, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Adrian’s hand slid higher up Lucas’ thigh, and Lucas shuddered at the contact.

"Adrian…" Lucas whispered, his voice trembling.

Adrain didn’t respond with words. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his lips crashing against Lucas’. The kiss was intense, desperate, as if it were the only thing keeping them grounded. Lucas’ hands roamed over Adrian’s chest, tracing the tattoos he couldn’t stop staring at.

Their breaths came faster, heavier, as the kiss deepened. The room around them seemed to fade, the reality of their new lives settling in completely.

For Lucas and Adrian, this was where they belonged—wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies pressed together, the heat between them undeniable. Nothing else mattered.

[californicazn]

[californicazn]

Stay locked. Stay denied. Stay controlled. Chastity isn’t just about your cock—it’s about your mind, your purpose, your place. The longer you’re denied, the deeper your submission grows. Accept it and be the slave you're meant to be.

[californicazn]

Your place is to admire, to crave, to be ready to serve a Man's powerful cock at any moment. No distractions, no hesitation. Just pure and authentic submission!

#bulge #BulgeArmy #meatybulge #bulgelover #bulgeinshorts #kink

[californicazn]

Born to serve. Made to obey. Proud to submit. If this is who you are, share and show your devotion to Alpha Men.

[californicazn]

You obey! No hesitation, no resistance - just absolute submission. That is your place. That is your purpose.

[californicazn]

When you embrace your proper place and lean into submissiveness, a new world opens up. Let obedience become your guide and serve your Master well.

[californicazn]

Get on your knees and worship - your mouth is a tool for service, your tongue exists to please, and your throat is meant to be used. Submit. Obey. Worship.

#alphacock #deepthroat #gagthefag

[californicazn]

When kneeling before a Master, keep your attention and focus on His magnificent bulge. His crotch is superior to you and should be worshipped respectfully.