dumbasstwink11 - Tumblr blog

dumbasstwink11 · 4 days ago

Text

Sick bro

It all happened so suddenly. All it took was one second of inattention. You were just walking down the street, not even paying attention to the young woman that stopped right in front of you. She reached her hand forward and grabbed at your chest. You didn't even have time to react, as a feeling of pure horror descended upon you.

You had heard of the virus, everybody had. Myovirus holomutans, that was how the people on tv called it, but everyone else had given it the nickname Moronavirus. Kind of a grim joke in retrospect, not that you had any reason to question it until this very moment. Everyone carried the virus in a dormant state and the scientists didn't know how yet. Neither did they know why men were the only ones in which the virus could activate... and neither did they know why the virus activated in this odd way...

"Precise manipulation of the pectoralis major", or simply put : a chest massage. That was all that men were told to stay away from if you didn't want to become a brainless meathead. That was it. Just don't get your pecs fondled and you'll be fine, it was so easy to avoid. Not to mention that with your flat chest, you didn't even think there was enough there to rub for the virus to even be problem for you. Yet there you were, unable to react as this woman kneaded your inflating pecs right beneath your eyes.

The list of symptoms flashed in your mind, but you knew what it boiled down to; your brain cells would be melted down into fuel for your swelling muscles. You didn't want any of this, but there was no way to stop the viral activation once the process was kickstarted.

Sweat rolled down your forehead as you witnessed your thin frame blow up with hefty meatiness all over. Of course it all started at the stimulation point, your nonexistent pecs suddenly blooming into existence. Your shoulders, neck and back muscles all followed through, thickening and forcing you to straighten your posture. Your arms ballooned with nice round muscles. Your straining shirt stood no chance, quickly shredding and falling into tatters around you and exposing your brand-new jock physique for all to see.

Your head felt dizzy, it was like you could feel your brains drain down into your expanding body. You were a smart man, not the kind of braindead himbo that this virus turned guys into, good for nothing except working out, partying and having sex. Even the smartest men effectively became useless to society once the virus took effect, their brilliant minds ruined by the mutation.

How could this be happening to you ? Your eyes met those of the woman who inflicted this fate on you. To your shock, she was smiling at you. What kind of sick enjoyment could she take out of doing this to you ? You felt nothing but panic, rage and heartbreak but as you stared into her eyes, her glittering hazel eyes, the only reaction you could conjure was an innocent smile and a moronic laugh.

All your questions about her intentions, your worries about your future, everything quieted down. Sure you could ask all these questions and worry about this stupid stuff ... but did it really matter ? Your mind, your intellect, your personhood was getting disintegrated. You could feel all of it, yourself becoming dimmer. You wanted to feel grief for the person you were supposed to be, but instead all you felt was ... peace.

You didn't want to give in but fuuuuuuck it felt so good. You realized all that stuff that you always had in your brain was superfluous, you didn't need any of it to be happy. In fact, you felt better finally letting go of it. You could just focus on the simple things that truly made you happy.

You could finally stop worrying about your studies and your future job. Instead you could live in the moment, go to parties, make friends, get drunk, have fun. You could shed your anxieties that held you back for so long and finally focus on pumping iron at the gym and growing your muscles. It was suddenly all so simple ... so easy ...

The virus had worked its magic. Your brains had dissolved and fueled the growth of a freshly converted gymbro. A metamorphosis from a promising student with a bright future ahead of him into a dim-witted muscular jock.

With a broish smile plastered in your face, a relaxed confident demeanor, your brain's higher functions turned off for good and gave way to your base instincts. The shine in your eyes vanished as a dull look took over.

"This is sick bro"

667 notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 4 days ago

Photo

7K notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 4 days ago

Text

He wasn't sure who had gotten him the baby oil under the tree.

His girlfriend, parents, and everyone else denied purchasing it.

At first he was reluctant to event open it, but when he did it smelled so good that he could help but feel it. And then he couldn't help but rub some on his hands. And then his body. And then all over.

And among the warm pleasure he was bathed in, the hazy thoughts in his brain tried to ask questions about why his muscles were growing? Why he was so smooth? Why was his brain so foggy?

But there wasn't anything they could do. And, as the picture of him and his now ex girlfriend watched, a new dumb jock was born.

And when he finally runs that oil on his dick, he won't even remember a time before Santa left that secret formula under his tree.

154 notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 4 days ago

Text

He has only been at college three days when you first met him. He wanted some workout advice so he wasn't a fat nerdy loser like he had been throughout High School.

So you took him under your wing. Workouts. Diet. Coaching. Hypnosis. Roids. Everything he had never even dreamed up.

Now, as the rest of his class prepares to start their senior year, this drop out who can't remember his own name or any connection to his old life, starts another workout at the local gym. The perfect example of a big, dumb, muscle, loser.

165 notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 1 month ago

Text

Three Stages of Jockification

1. Surprise

2. Curiosity

3. Acceptance (and embracing the newfound reality that he really is an alpha through and through, and he should act accordingly)

Now, who is the lucky girl that will get squeezed with that thick biceps and receive the blessing of his alpha seeds? Based on his pumped physique, he's in a rut and anyone lucky enough to quickly slid to his DM will get a visit from the newly-jockified alpha

654 notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 2 months ago

Text

I was on a morning jog when this ass hat didn't just bump into me, but he fucking called me a FAGGOT under his breath. The audacity of some of these douchebags will never cease to amaze me. So if he has the audacity to be rude and homophobic in public, then I think he should be good giving everyone on the trail a show.

"What was that BRO?! I don't think I heard you right!" I ask, turning to face his back as he stops in place. His body shivering as my words dance through the air and pelt into his skin.

"Don't Bro me fairy, you heard what I said!" He says looking back at me. I can see he tries to turn away, continue his jog, that raised eyebrow of confusion as his body stops registering his control. As he can't help but stay so he can hang on to EVERY WORD I have to say.

"Nah, you are a BRO though, you're my good BRO. Such a good BRO that I think it's a little HOT out here BRO. You should strip out of those stuffy clothes BRO. Gotta show off those GAINS for the STUDS am I right?!" My voice layering my magics rapidly onto him. As each BRO sends a shock to his body, I can see sweat drip down his brow as his beanie turns into a baseball cap.

"I..it's HOT out...str..strip for the STUDS... No what are you... I'm ..not Gay.. I lik...Girls...strip for the... STUDS!" He's panting as he shimmies his legs out of his sweatpants, his legs bulging as muscle and a layer of fat GROW from years of leg day all packed into one day PULSE through him. His calves like an ancient Grecian statue, his thighs beautifully thick and strong, and his ass bubbling out causing his underwear to strain. The magic shifting his underwear as his boxers' fabric breaks down and the elastic rearranges itself till he's wearing a slutty jockstrap.

His face scrunches, his mind racing as he tries to hold onto his personality. His prejudice is the first thing I eviscerate from his mind before stripping him of his audacity and coldness. The next is his inconsiderate nature and superiority complex, he wouldn't need that as whatever little intelligence and individuality he has gets washed away leaving a vulnerable man.

He pulls at his hoodie, the magic doing it's job as he feels the NEED to strip in public. As he lifts it up revealing his new slimming waist and his abdominals flex, a cobbled stone road leading to a gorgeous shelf of pecs. His heart is racing as he manages to remove it without taking the cap with it. His arms feeling up his body as his biceps bulged with power, veins popping.

He looks at me blank as I walk up to him silently, his eyes glazed as I slowly turn the cap backwards. Each movement making him hornier and hornier. His mind tries to imagine women, his favorite traits, his old kinks but each time he thinks of them they pop like bubbles. His cock starts hardening in his jockstrap as he giggles, the images of men, all shapes, sizes, positions and color. An exhibition kink taking root that will never leave as memories of cruising become permanently embedded in his mind

"How ya feeling BRO?" I ask looking at this glazed eyed HIMBO.

He smirks, moving towards one of the rest stop walls nearby, placing his hands against the wall. "Feeling empty Bro, mind filling me up before I finish my run!" He guffaws slapping his ass and wiggling his needy cheeks at me.

Safe to say he won't be hurting anyone on this jogging trail anytime soon.

329 notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 2 months ago

Text

For more follow @xxxstudssss

@xxxstudssss

23K notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 2 months ago

Text

OnlyFags

With @boysmentfs

“God already? I just bought these like a month ago!”

Elliot tossed his headphones aside, annoyed. When he had bought the gaming headset, he had expected them to be excellent. So many other gamers had recommended the pair, but now they would not even connect to his monitor. Seeing that they were cordless, they were practically rendered useless.

Desperate, a risky idea suddenly popped into Elliot’s head. His older brother Trent had a decent enough pair that he could borrow. The plan was a fool’s errand if Elliot was caught; his brutish, jock brother could wipe him out in seconds for entering his room. And already loaded with emotional ammo on numerous accounts (being smaller, having intelligence, liking boys), Elliot was sure to end up at least hypothetically dead.

But Elliot also knew that Trent was not coming home that night. He was over at his current girlfriend’s place, meaning all Elliot had to do was replace the headphones exactly as he found them. Enjoying the sense of danger, Elliot mischievously tip-toed out of his room–despite no one else being home–and carefully approached Trent’s door. His brother’s room was not any different from the stereotypical straight man’s quarters: sparsely decorated besides a poster of bimbos with a rock band, dirty clothes and foul-smelling shoes scattered on the floor, and an American flag on the far wall.

Carefully avoiding the piles of empty beer cans, Elliot held his breath, hoping to not let any of his brother’s potent body odor enter his system. He eventually reached his destination, taking a seat at Trent’s desk and pushing aside anything that could dirty his bright-colored polo and shorts. It was easy to log into his brother’s computer and bypass the security functions, but Elliot had not expected to run into a problem with the Bluetooth compatibility. Until he disconnected the headphones from a specific site, Elliot would not be able to use them. It was a simple task, until Elliot realized it was a webcam site.

“OnlyFags?!” Elliot gasped. He would have never guessed Trent, the prime example of a cocky homophobic hetero alpha, would have been involved in OnlyFags–let alone a creator. The webcam site was practically known worldwide as a hate group–straight men teasing desperate, horny gays to make money. It was horrific, and yet it had somehow consistently exceeded expected profits.

Trying his best to ignore this discovery and get back to the task at hand, Elliot logged into his brother’s OnlyFags account, hoping to be able to disconnect the headphones once and for all. The loading screens were long and annoying, spirals that seemed to go on for longer than necessary, but eventually Elliot navigated to the devices page. Instead of disconnecting his headphones however, he accidentally reconnected his brother’s camera.

“Oh no…please no,” Elliot squirmed. Before long, people hopped onto his feed, commenting about this new arrival. Elliot nervously tried to escape the program but every attempt appeared to fail, only booting up the loading screen once more without ever reaching an end destination. Elliot quickly put on one of his brother’s caps and held his head low, hoping the audience would think it was Trent until he was able to exit. His panic was rapidly rising, but out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. One of his unfortunate viewers had a request, stating that he should flex.

A sudden calm befell Elliot, and although his musculature was not visible, he surprisingly felt comfortable posing for the webcam. The timid act was not much, but it garnered a reaction from the viewers. Another requested for Elliot to flex from a different position, and he obliged, his slim frame gaining a small but fair applause from the gay audience. After succumbing to a few more requests, Elliot was soon hooked, continuously switching between the loading screen and listening to his fans. It did not take long until he started receiving messages requesting to start stripping, and to his own surprise, Elliot fulfilled them.

When one of the viewers typed that he wanted to see Elliot show off his “mammoth arms,” he willingly struck a pose. He did not hesitate to prove the next commenter wrong, who insisted his legs could not be “hardened with muscle and bloated out like massive logs of meat.” Elliot immediately tossed his legs up unto Trent’s desk, showcasing what one member of the audience guessed were Size 13 feet. The shirt was removed after Elliot had to prove his “hard six-pack,” the shorts already off before he was told to showcase the “classic bubble butt only these guys have.”

Soon, the comments were less focused on requests and more so just stating observations. Elliot went back and forth between his live webcam and checking in on the spiral, although his panic had long subsided. “An abundance of body hair,” “Exudes arrogance and privilege,” “Only wants to play, get laid, and look good.” Eventually, Elliot even began to relish in the attention, becoming excited as his audience grew more vocal and engaged. This attention soon had Elliot massaging his member, his thick hands pumping the growing meat. It took his roused audience moments to realize this, yet Elliot was no longer afraid to respond to their excitement.

“You like that, don’t you?” Elliot’s voice oozed all-American jock. The crowd went wild, calling him irresistible, a pure stud. One viewer daydreamed what he was jacking off to, but another replied before Elliot could. “Probably cheerleaders or sorority chicks, these guys are all the same.” Elliot was about to reply differently, but a quick check in with the loading screen flashed a new image through his mind.

Tits. Touching them, motorboating them, and then finding his way down to the pussy. These images, these memories, made Elliot moan. The words almost left his mouth, but he knew his viewers would not be turned on hearing about his new and yet natural desire to breed and seed every chick he saw. No, he knew what they wanted to hear.

“That's it, you dumb horny faggot. You like this, don’t you?” Ethan smirked, continuing to pleasure his giant cock. OnlyFags terms and conditions were simple, but ironclad. Upon starting an account, creators had to “verify” they were straight, users endured the same sign-up requirements. “Blow your faggy brains out to a straight alpha like me, right now. Spend that useless cum, waste it on me.” When the system had detected Trent’s account had broken this agreement, the issue was immediately resolved.

Quickly, a sudden rush of pleasure overran the new man. “Oh yeah BROOO!” Ethan shouted, white goo spilling forth just outside of the camera’s view. He did not want another dude–especially a homo–to see his dick after all, which was slowly dropping back into its still large flaccid state.

Ethan, now just another dumb, homophobic, straight jock, found himself content with his work, taking pride as the tributes started rolling in. Thanks to Trent's and his system–while one got laid the other was pumped live–the twins were making bank. And why would they ever stop working if they got paid to do what they loved? Jerking off and fag-bashing had never been better.

“Tune in tomorrow, fairies,” Ethan licked his lips as he prepared to sign off. Cockily, he began grabbing at his pec. “Tomorrow’s sesh will be seeing a little more of this…” He then brought a hand back to down his massive cock. “and a lot more of this.”

1K notes · View notes

dumbasstwink11 · 2 months ago

Text

Melorius's shop: Fitting in

Felix adjusted his glasses and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as he stepped into the costume shop, his slender frame almost swallowed by the oversized hoodie he always wore. Standing just a bit shorter than average, his narrow shoulders and slight build made him easy to overlook, especially with his soft, bookish features and perpetually messy hair. His hands were long and fine, fingers ink-stained from hours of note-taking, and his skin was pale from too many nights spent studying instead of seeing the sun. With his hunched posture and timid gait, Felix looked every bit the shy, kind-hearted geek who’d rather be reading about heroes than pretending to be one.

Felix opened the door of the old looking Costume’s shop; a bell rang as the door opened and its sound echoed between the dusty racks of costumes. Costumes crowded every corner, piled high in stacks and hung on hooks from the ceiling, casting odd, twisting shadows. He adjusted his glasses, blinking in the dusty light as he took it all in. The place seemed nearly forgotten, like it had been waiting for decades just for him.

"Excuse me?" he called out softly, his voice echoing a bit. "I'm looking for…um…a Spiderman costume, or really any superhero costume."

From behind a counter lined with old-fashioned masks, an elderly man emerged, smiling a bit too widely. His eyes glinted, as if he found Felix’s presence amusing. "Ah, superheroes. Everyone wants to be one," he mused, studying Felix with a strange intensity. "But I’m afraid you're a bit late, young man. All the superheroes are gone."

“Oh.” Felix sighed, glancing around as he tugged at his collar, feeling the cool, almost expectant air of the shop pressing in on him. "Do you have anything else? Something…kind of low-key? Anything cool will be perfect to be honest."

The man tilted his head thoughtfully, then reached under the counter. After a moment, he pulled out a different outfit, holding it up. It was a football quarterback uniform, complete with shoulder pads, a helmet, and a jersey bearing the number 11 in bold, almost intimidating font.

Felix felt his heart sink. "Uh… I’m not really the football type," he began, unsure how to say no.

But the man only smiled. "Halloween is a night for trying new things, isn’t it? You might find this… transformative." With a small wink, he pressed the costume into Felix’s hands, gesturing toward the dressing room in the back.

Reluctantly, Felix took it. The fabric felt strange under his fingers, thicker and heavier than he’d expected. With a last look at the old man, who was watching him with that same enigmatic smile, Felix ducked into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. He really didn’t want to try it on, specially because at college, he was bullied by the football team, especially Josh, one of the biggest douchebag earths has ever worn. He was everything Felix hated. Big, muscled piled on muscles, obnoxious, fucking everything he could find and worst of all, forcing his best friend Nathan to do his homework and terrifying the shit out of him.

Felix hesitated, looking at himself in the mirror. His slight frame, glasses, and messy hair were the epitome of what people at his college would call "nerdy." This costume was everything he wasn’t and everything he despised. But not wanting to appear rude, he slipped the jersey over his head, adjusting it as it clung uncomfortably close to his skin. Oddly, it felt warm, almost like it was… alive.

As he finsihed putting on the quaterback equipment and tugged the fabric of the jersey over his torso, a sharp, sudden pain blossomed across his chest. He gasped, clutching at his sides as a strange pressure spread through him. His chest muscles contracted and expanded, stretching outward with a force he couldn't control. The flat, narrow lines of his torso swelled as new muscle filled every inch, his chest pushing outward in thick slabs of pecs that strained against the jersey. With each breath, his pecs grew denser, pressing forward until they filled the front of the jersey, hard and defined.

“What…what is happening?” he whispered, trying to pull the jersey off, but his arms wouldn’t obey. He was frozen, forced to watch as the transformation moved to his shoulders and arms.

Pain surged through his shoulders as they broadened, the pads pressing down on him, molding his frame into something bigger, stronger. His deltoids pushed outward, rounding out, followed by his biceps, which bulged, straining the fabric with their new mass. Thick veins appeared along his forearms, pulsing with a warmth that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His hands changed too, the fingers thickening, becoming rough and calloused, palms broadening until they looked like they belonged to someone who’d spent years gripping footballs rather than comic books.

Each new jolt of growth felt like a small explosion, his nerves alive with the prickling of muscle fiber expanding and hardening beneath his skin. His legs cramped next, a powerful spasm that had him doubling over as his thighs and calves swelled. Muscles he’d never known he had bulged out, pressing against the fabric until the pants were stretched taut over thick quads and hamstrings that filled out with each second. He staggered, watching his thighs widen, hard and massive, his calves now like solid trunks that seemed rooted to the floor.

Felix started to feel an odd sensation creeping under his soles. Suddenly, he felt like they began to burn as they expanded within the cleats he had just put on. His toes thickened, his arches lifted, his entire foot stretching and swelling until they filled the once-loose cleats perfectly, now large and sturdy, every step grounding him with an unfamiliar weight.

The changes weren’t just physical. A strange heat built up within him, simmering in his core, moving down to his groin with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He tried to fight it, his mind screaming for control, but his body surged ahead. His hips rolled slightly as his groin responded, thickening, growing, his manhood pressing uncomfortably against the waistband of his pants. He felt his shaft pulse and throb as it swelled, growing heavier, bigger, until it strained against the fabric, every inch filling him with an unsettling mix of power and shame. It was relentless, each throb amplifying the sensation, his groin now packed with a weight and presence that was almost dizzying. Even his balls grew, swelling until they hung heavily between his legs, pressing against his thighs, a constant reminder of the physicality that had taken over him.

As he looked down, horrified, he saw that his pubic area was now covered in a thick, wiry thatch of dark hair. Felix couldn’t even the skin under the hair anymore. Pure dark thick hair. It itched slightly, but there was no escaping the primal, raw feeling it gave him. His hands, now large and rough, instinctively went to adjust his groin, but he couldn’t control the action, it was like his body was reveling in its own size, flexing, posing.

His reflection sneered back at him, a cocky grin that made his skin crawl. His face had sharpened, his jawline strong and angular, his cheekbones high and defined. His eyes, once soft and shy, had become piercing, almost predatory. His hair had changed too, dark and thick, styled perfectly as though he’d just stepped out of a salon.

“Oh no… no, no, no…” he whispered, his voice deeper, resonant, filled with a confidence he didn’t feel. He tried to speak again, but it was like his voice had been absorbed, lost within the powerful timbre that echoed back at him.

Inside his mind, a voice spoke, smooth and arrogant, brimming with strength. “Looks like you’re ready to play, bro.”

“No! I’m not…I’m not…” he tried to say, but his own body laughed, a rich, self-assured chuckle that came from deep in his chest. It was like he was locked in a cage, forced to watch as his new form flexed and stretched, testing the limits of his newly thickened muscles. His hands slid over his chest, his abs, tracing the hard ridges of his pecs and torso in a way that horrified him. Every touch was a betrayal, each inch of him celebrating its own strength and virility.

And then, with a horrible clarity, he realized his surroundings had changed. The dusty walls of the dressing room had faded, replaced by the familiar, well-worn space of a college bedroom. Posters lined the walls, a football on the desk, the scent of cologne mingling with the faint smell of beer, feet and cum. His heart pounded as he saw the reflection of the street in the mirror in front of the bed. He knew this street, but from where? His body kept on flexing his biceps and posing while adjusting his python in his jeans. Suddenly Felix recognizes it, it was Josh’s Fraternity house. “God please, NOOOOOO…” he screamed internally as his body groped once again his thick semi hard dick pressed against his thighs.

The door burst open, and Josh strode in, grinning widely as he clapped him on the back. “Yo, Mike! You ready to tear it up tonight? Halloween bash is going to be insane! Get ready and come downstairs bro’ ”

Inside, Felix’s true self screamed, but his new body only laughed, a confident sound that filled the room. He could feel everything, trapped as a spectator within his own body, unable to stop the deep, casual flex of his muscles, the cocky grin that spread across his face.

Felix swaggered out of the bedroom, every muscle loose and relaxed as he automatically headed downstairs. He barely noticed the lingering shift in his walk, the easy confidence that had replaced his usual awkward, careful steps. He knew, in some distant part of himself, that this wasn’t him. But the name "Mike" echoed back each time he tried to remember his real name.

The first person he saw downstairs was Josh, grinning as he slammed a hand down on Felix’s shoulder with a rough camaraderie that would have once made Felix cringe. Josh, the biggest, brashest jock on campus, was someone he’d always tried to avoid. Now, though, he found himself smiling back, his thoughts warming with a strange fondness he couldn’t quite understand. Josh chuckled, punching him lightly in the arm. “Ready to get this party started, bro?”

The response came instinctively. "Always, man!" His voice sounded rich and easy, filled with that same underlying confidence, and Felix felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It felt… right, somehow, and as they worked together with the others, hanging lights and arranging tables, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of fitting in, of belonging here in a way he never had before.

Then the doorbell rang, and Mike headed to answer it, his steps naturally assured, shoulders relaxed. When he opened the door, he froze for a second. Standing there was Nathan, his best friend, the same familiar face and shy smile he’d grown up with. His friend’s arms were full of papers, Josh’s homework, he realized with a strange clarity.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got the assignments Josh asked for,” Nathan said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he handed the papers over. Mike reached out to take them, a small pang of something strange flickering in his mind as he looked at his friend’s familiar, nervous expression. Felix woke up from his mental fog and remembered who he truly was. He was not Mike; he was Felix and Nathan was his best friend. How long did he forget, how is that possible to forget who you are? Inside his head, Felix was panicking and trying to scream and beg for help to Nathan, but on the outside, Mike just grabbed the paper and put on a cocky grin as he realizes how thick Nathan’s ass was.

“Thanks, man,” Mike replied automatically, the words feeling strange in his deeper, confident voice. Josh took the papers with barely a nod, heading back toward the party, and Mike found himself lingering, watching Nathan’s body with a hungry look. Out of nowhere, Mike started to talk kindly to Nathan and to Felix’s surprise, Nathan answered back, worst he recognized in his best friend a feeling of joy as they kept talking together about every and anything.

They chatted for a few minutes, the small talk flowing in a way that felt oddly natural. Felix was screaming for this to stop. Maybe if he screamed loud enough, he will be able to grab dominance over this new Mike’s mind and be able to ask for help. But it didn’t work. Worst, he screamed in panic as he heard himself asking Nathan to come outside to grab a drink. They both went to his bedroom upstairs and just before closing the door, Mike threw a knowing look and a cocky grin to Josh, both of them smiling as they knew Mike was getting lucky.

Once they were there, Mike listened to his friend talk, nodding as they laughed over stories that seemed almost familiar, yet distant. He felt himself leaning in without even realizing it, his heart pounding a bit harder, his thoughts becoming hazy. There was a moment, a single spark that made everything feel suddenly real, and then just as Nathan was saying that he should go back home to get ready for his Halloween Dungeon and Dragons party, Felix felt his body plunging on Nathan’s lips. He felt the surprise of Nathan fading into acceptance as he gave back his kiss. After some minutes of kissing and touching each other, Mike jumped back up and threw his clothes away, standing erect with his 11 inches dick in front of Nathan. He then started to walk slowly back to Nathan while grinning and talking again. “So tell me Bae’, Trick or treat?” Felix was disgusted by what was happening, how could this happen. He wasn’t even gay, and Nathan was his best friend. No that couldn’t be, it must be a nightmare. But out of nowhere, Felix felt wet lips around his thick cock. The sensation sent shivers down his spine and Mike grabbed Nathan’s head under his calloused palms as he forced it all the way down to his pubes. Felix was torn apart between the pleasure was feeling and the pain of knowing his best friend was giving him a blowjob. Then he felt a rush coming down on him. He felt as his toes started to grip the carpeted floor, his muscles started to tense and his breath became chaotic. “No please, I can’t…” Felix tried to say in a last moment of consciousness as Mike started to spasm and cum straight inside Nathan’s throat, making sure he swallowed every drop of his precious cum. His mind went blank, a flood of warmth washing over him, leaving nothing behind. For a split second, he reached for something he couldn’t name, something lost in a flood of heat and release. Then everything was clear. He was Mike. When he opened his eyes after a couple of pleasurable seconds, Felix was gone. Only Mike stood there. With a satisfied sigh, Mike got his dick out, feeling the lingering warmth radiate through his body, calming his heartbeat. He pulled back on his gym shorts, adjusting his jockstrap, and shot a quick glance in the mirror. As Mike opened the door, he took a look down at Nathan still baked in the pleasure they both just had. “So, do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?” Nathan asked with kindness in his eyes. Mike turned back and laughed before answering “Yo bro’ get the fuck out before I call the broskis to finish you up. You really thought this could be a we? You are a whole for me to fuck and nothing else. Now get the fuck out looser!”

Mike turned back to the mirror and adjusted his cap backward. Perfect, as always. Heading downstairs without another thought, he was ready to enjoy the party, the memory of whatever he’d been worrying about entirely gone.

______________________________________________________________

Hey everybody! Here is the new chapter inspired by this prompt from @yuighjvbn123 "Well, I hope you continue the melorious shop, especially making the sequel for the First Customer story. I really want to see the other perspective, now this time for a shy clumsy nerd who got transformed into a muscular handsome sexy jock. Bit then his demeanor also changed, into more cocky self-obsessed narcissist diva and the usual horny lol. I know it's a basic standard tf plot, but I know you'll find a way to spice things up and make it even hotter"

Hope you guys enjoyed it and see you soon for another adventure ;)

446 notes · View notes