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What the hell? One minute I’m sitting at my office desk regretting my life, wishing for more excitement, wondering how the years past me by so fast. Next thing I know my vision is obscured by a helmet and I’m sitting on a motorcycle. How’s this happen? Not that I’m complaining. My body hasn’t felt this good in well over 25 years. Those two decades of doing nothing other than hunched over a computer typing my life away, really adds up on a persons body. But I didn’t feel the back pain or the constant fatigue I’d grown accustomed to. No, instead I felt energetic, strong, youthful vigor rushing through me. My mind completely consumed by the feeling of the leather on my bare skin. Wait, bare skin, was this dude going commando in his gear? A quick unzipping confirmed that he was only wearing a chain between the leather and my new Adonis body. The cool air on my torso sent waves of arouse up my body. I’m not sure how this happened but somehow my prayers were answered, and I’m not complaining. I wonder if this guy was somewhere trapped in my 47 year old flabby body typing away in a sad florescent lit office cubicle. On cue his phone began to start running. An unknown number. My number. That answers my question. But honestly I couldn’t care less. And by the feeling of my growing member straining against its leather confines, I have more important matters to attend to.

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See boy? There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just take a look at your friend right here, doesn’t it look like he’s enjoying himself? Go on, flex those muscles for us, Ricky!

Yeah, I bet you didn’t even recognize him until now, but don’t worry, I probably wouldn’t have either if I hadn’t forced that huge gar into his mouth myself.

I tell ya, watching him struggle to hold his breath while the rest of the boys held him down, was quite a sight. But they always give in, sooner or later.

Heh, I reckon it might take a bit longer with you, now that you know what’s ahead, but trust me son - it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be a beefy garpig just like the rest of my boys.

Nothing makes a real man out of ya like our local brew and gars. Hell, your buddy ain’t even done yet, by the time that cigar is finished he will be looking just like the rest of the crowd, a massive, tattooed biker bull with a beard hanging all the way down to his belt, but he already loves it.

Isn’t that right Ricky? How are ya feeling son?

“Fuck… fucking horny boss!”

You can tell that the changes did quite a number on his head, they always do with you, nerdy types. But I guess that with a body and a cock like his you don’t really need to be the sharpest tool in the shed, ain’t that right?

And speaking of cocks, it looks like yours is slowly coming over to our way of thinking.

No, don’t shake your head son, it’s always your body that betrays you first. But what am I even talking about, I bet you just can’t stop thinking about how hot it’s going to be when you’re finally one of us. Wondering how you’re going to look like once that cigar is smoked to its cap.

I can always tell those things, want to hear? But of course you do.

Imagine looking down and seeing a full beard against your chest, all grey and hanging down to your belly button - just like mine, and a massive, round gut spilling out of your leather biker vest. Yeah, you’re going to be fucking huge, real tree trunks for arms, and full of tattoos too, not even an inch of skin visible under all that ink.

Believe me, you’re going to be so fucking enormous that even your boy will be looking like a twerp in comparison. Yeah, that’s right, from today forward you will be Ricky’s horny, biker daddy.

Come on, take a deep breath, I can see how much that cock of yours is leaking at the thought.

The sooner you do, the sooner you will get to bury it deep inside your boy’s tight asshole.

Oh yeah, that’s it! See? You’re puffing like a pro already. That wasn’t so bad after all, was it?

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Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

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A Neighbor With An Alien Secret

"When are you going to finish the report? It's taking foreveeeer. His wife and kids will be back soon from church!" I complain to Matthew, my hot, muscular neighbor who is focused on writing the monthly report for his kind.

I’m lying on Matt’s bed, bored as I waited for him. Earlier this morning, as soon as I saw Matt’s wife leaving with their kids for church, I didn’t waste a moment—I knocked on Matt’s door and walked right in.

"Be patient, I'm almost done. I need to put in the report every tiny detail about my experience of living as Matt for the past month. This is very important, you know that." He says while still writing.

I stand up and walk towards him. I am completely naked—there's no need to wear clothes around Matt anymore. Standing behind him, I start to gently massage his large, broad shoulders.

"You're not going to tell them about me right?" I ask teasingly, running my hands down to his huge pecs and squeezing them. My fingers quickly find his nipples, and I play with them, making Matt stop typing and let out a deep, baritone moan.

"Of course not. If they find out, they will exterminate both of us. You for knowing too much, and me for letting a human know about our kind."

I look at the small hole at the top of Matt's shaved head, it is no larger than the diameter of a pencil. I then kiss Matt's neck and whisper in his ear to stand up. He obeys and looks at me, confused. Taking his place on the chair, I spread my legs, displaying my hard throbbing cock, and smirk at him. "C'mon, sit on my cock. This way I get to fuck you while you still finish your dumb report."

A grin forms on Matt's lips, and he slowly pulls down his yellow shorts, his thick and soft cock is now hanging between his legs, but that's not why I came here.

He turns around and slowly sits down on my cock, his muscular ass swallows my cock until I am fully inside of him. We both let out a loud, shared moan.

"Unghh... ahhh... Fuck, it feels so good. I don't understand why Matt never used his ass to feel pleasure before." Matt says as he presses his ass against my crotch, careful not to crush me under his weight.

"Matt was the straightest guy I've ever known, he would rather be dead than to be fucked by another man. Gladly, you know how to use his muscles better than him, especially the muscles in his ass," I gave his ass a hard slap and he started bouncing harder. He fucked himself on my cock as his manly hands typed on the keyboard at an inhumane pace.

"Can you read the report to me, please? I'm curious to know what you wrote about Matt," I ask between moans. Matt obeys and starts reading his report.

"Host integration has been highly successful. The capsule was inserted in the vessel's brain and I'm now fully in control of Matthew Grayson, a 32-year-old human male residing in suburban North America. Grayson’s wife, Emily, and their two children remain unaware of the takeover. No one knows that the real Matthew is gone and that his body is just a lifeless meat puppet controlled by an extraterrestrial creature. As per protocol, I've been studying his daily routines, habits, and interpersonal relationships..."

As he continued reading the report, my mind went back to when everything started a month ago.

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Matt was your typical douchbag of a neighbor, he was a religious alpha male with a wife and four kids, and with very conservative beliefs. So of course he hated having me—a gay guy—as his neighbor, and he would be proud to always let me know that. He would give me intimidating looks whenever he saw me looking toward him, or exaggerated whispers to his wife as I passed by, Matt had made it his personal mission to remind me that I didn’t belong there.

One day, after coming back from church, Matt went to his porch to smoke since his wife wouldn't allow him to smoke inside the house.

I was carefully watching him smoke from my window, trying my best to keep myself unnoticed, the last thing I wanted was for him to find out I liked to spy on him from my window. He looked so good with his broad, muscular build accentuated by the snug fit of his vintage-style shirt and tight brown pants. His huge, bulging arms flexed as he lit the cigar. I loved the way his tailored trousers hugged his thick thighs and firm ass.

You know a man is a real alpha when they act like one even when they don't know they're being watched.

His confident posture exuded a raw masculinity that made it impossible not to feel intimidated. Every detail, from the way he held the lighter to the casual way he took his first puff, made him look effortlessly commanding. I started wondering how hot it would be to watch him use those strong arms to jerk off, how it must feel to fuck him, to have him moaning like a slut... I was brought back to reality when I saw a small object hovering over Matt.

It was a UFO!

Was I really back to reality or was I still fantasizing? I asked myself in disbelief. Matt was too busy smoking to notice the small spaceship hovering over him. I thought about opening the window and warning him, but something stopped me; why should I? I asked myself and couldn't find any reason. So I decided to just see what happened next.

Suddenly a ray of light shot out from under the UFO and pierced straight into Matt’s head. He immediately froze and I saw something small inside the light traveling down from the ship to Matt's head, it was small and fast like a bullet. The light then vanished as quickly as it appeared and the small spaceship flew away, disappearing into the sky.

I had no idea what I had witnessed, but I knew it did something to Matt, because the cigar fell from his mouth, his muscular arms dropped limply to his side and his head dropped forward right after. He just stood there like he fell asleep while standing.

And was that smoke coming out of his head? I had so many questions.

Suddenly, Matt stirred awake, his head moved with a stiff, mechanical precision as he scanned his surroundings. Then, his eyes locked onto mine. Panic shot through me, and I ducked beneath the window.

Damn it, he saw me! I thought, my heart started pounding, I knew I was in danger. A few minutes later, I heard someone knocking on my door, actually, knocking was a kind word, he was practically pounding on it. When I opened it, Matt forced himself inside and closed the door behind him, he roughly pinned me against the wall with only one hand on my neck.

"So you were spying on me? What did you saw you fucker?" He asked with a calm, yet Intimidating voice. His grip tightened, and as he pressed me against the wall, I was able to see the top of Matt's head, there was a small fresh hole in it.

"I know you're not Matt anymore. I won't tell anyone! I promise!" I managed to say.

Matt's expression softened, and he loosened his grip, allowing me to fall to the floor. He stood over me, gazing down with a contemplative expression. "The protocol says I should exterminate you."

I gulped and looked at him with scared eyes. Waiting and hoping there was going to be a "but" soon.

"But I won't do that."

I sighed in relief. Matt then grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me back on my feet.

He suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and started to unzip my pants. "I'm willing to buy your silence," the alien said in Matt's deep voice, "I've been studying Matt for the past month, and as I observed and learned everything about him, I also had to learn about everyone in Matt's life, and that includes you. I've been watching from afar how bad Matt treated you for the sole fact of you being a same-sex attracted human," he then took out my hard cock and started to stroke it. Feeling Matt's calloused manly hand wrapping around my shaft felt like heaven. "Since when I chose Matthew as my vessel, I had to learn his personality, his habits and behavior, I had to learn his homophobic beliefs... it just didn't feel right, I didn't want to replicate his bad behavior, but I was ordered by my superiors to mimic the vessel's every personality trait down to the core, so I would have to keep doing to you what Matthew always did. Today was finally the day of the takeover, to make him my vessel," he then looked up at me and chuckled, "But I didn’t expect you to be spying on Matt from your window, though I'm not surprised you did, it makes sense why a gay human like you would feel attracted to a body like this," He double flexed his biceps in a cocky manner, "This changes everything now. I know you want to feel Matthew's mouth wrapped around your cock, to see him submit to you. You can have all that right now, all you have to do is keep your mouth shut."

The sight of Matthew—my once-arrogant, homophobic neighbor—kneeling before me and stroking me, was surreal. He didn't give me time to answer, his strong hands grasped me firmly, and his lips parted as he leaned forward and took my cock into his mouth. The first touch of his warm, wet mouth made my legs tremble, and I had to steady myself against the wall.

But I don't know if it was because it was Matt's first time sucking cock, or the alien just had no idea of what he was doing, but the blowjob was far from enjoyable.

Matt took my cock out of his mouth and looked up at me. Noticing my face, he said, "Sorry, I don't know how to give a proper blowjob. I still haven't learned this human practice. I thought that with Matt as my vessel, there was no use learning about that."

"It's fine, you can just use Matt's tongue."

"I have an idea. Put the tip of your index finger in Matt's hole."

"Matt's hole? You mean his asshole?"

"No, I mean the entrance hole in his head," Matt said, pointing at it.

I looked apprehensive, but I did what I was told and inserted the tip of my finger in the head hole.

"Now think of blowjobs, like all the blowjobs you've ever done or watched."

I did what he told me and started to think of every blowjob that I'd done, as well as the ones I've watched. Matt's eyes immediately rolled back and his head moved, taking my cock back in his mouth. The tip of my finger was still inside the hole.

The alien now clearly knew what he was doing, guiding Matt’s head with expert precision. His tongue flicked and swirled, drawing shaky breaths from me as he worked like an expert. It was like I was controlling his tongue with my thoughts.

As he took me deeper, his once-mocking eyes now rolled back like he was feeling pleasure, but I knew that was not the real reason. I couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped me, my hands grabbed his shaved head, “Fuck... Matt, you're such a good cocksucker! You're doing exactly how It's in my head! Mmmhhfh... It's like I'm controlling you!”

Matt responded with a muffled hum, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. His hands gripped my ass firmly, keeping me steady as he worked me relentlessly, his mouth was so hot and eager. With my free hand, I grabbed the back of Matt's head and I started to face fuck him real hard, and as I reached my peak, I buried his face in my crotch and came down his throat. "Mmhh... ohh... y-yes... This is what... Unghh... you deserve you asshole!" I moaned.

My finger finally unplugged the hole, and his eyes went back to normal. Matt then pulled back slowly, his lips curled into a satisfied smile as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What was that?" I asked breathlessly.

"I gave you momentary access to Matt's brain, I turned off his brain and connected his body to your brain instead. So, do we have a deal?"

"Your secret is safe with me, as long as you let me enjoy Matt's body."

Matt snickered, "Good, humans are so easy."

The next morning, I looked out of my window and saw Matt smoking on his porch like he always did. This time he was shirtless and wearing a cap to hide the hole in his head.

"Good morning, Matt," I said out loud. I wasn't afraid of him seeing me anymore.

Matt looked at my direction and exhaled a puff of smoke. Gosh, the alien really did a good job at impersonating Matt's cocky mannerisms. With the cigar still in his mouth, Matt unzipped his pants and took out his huge, long cock. As he held the cigar with his left hand, he stroked his shaft with the other.

I was also jerking off behind the window, watching my hot muscular straight neighbor jerking off his massive cock all for me to enjoy.

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Matt is still fucking himself on my cock, having just sent the report to his superiors, he was now completely focused on the task at hand, or better, on the ass, “Get on all fours on the bed,” I finally tell him.

He obeys immediately, standing up and getting on all fours on the bed like he’s done this a hundred times before. His ass is right there, big, muscular, and begging for attention under those tight yellow shorts. He then tilts his head back, exposing the hole in his head.

“Please, I need you to use me like your slut, sir! Plug my headhole with your finger, and my asshole with your cock!"

I almost laugh at how far this guy has fallen. Who am I to say no? I climb up behind him, sliding my hands over his thick hips, those shorts barely containing his ass. One tug, and they’re gone. I insert myself back inside him, making Matt moan in pleasure. He starts moving his ass back and forth, but I stop him with a hard slap, making him whimper. "Stop moving, that's not how I like It!" I grunt.

"Sorry, sir!"

With a wide grin, I insert the tip of my finger in his head hole, when I'm sure we're connected, I start to think of all the gay bottoms that I've watched before, how they acted and performed in those videos. For a long time I've watched those videos fantasizing about Matt being in their place, and now I have the opportunity to live my fantasies.

Matt's eyes roll back as images of gay men being fucked like sluts invade his mind. Moments later, Matt is fucking himself with passion, mimicking my horny thoughts.

"Moan for me, Matt!" I say, thrusting into him harder. He moans so loudly that I almost worry about the neighbors, but then I remember—my only homophobic neighbor is now nothing more than an alien-controlled puppet. There's nothing to worry about.

I sent a thought for him to release as soon as I came inside him. I couldn't ask for a better neighbor.

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BunkkaTF

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Look at this gorgeous sexy pup. Such a nice body, such a pretty butt, and those nipples are perky and perfect. If he thinks this liquid latex makes him feel like a dog now, wait til he goes to a hypnotist and gets a pup trigger. From then on, whenever he gets wet, he’ll really believes he’s a dog.

His human mind slips away, he forgets how to talk or understand words. He stuck on all fours, growling and barking and rolling over to get his belly rubbed. The pup tail isn’t a butt plug anymore – it’s a part of his body and he can feel the weight of it wag back and forth.

He lives naked and simple and happy for a day, then his owner decides to turn him back. But whoops – they forgot to set up a reversal, and he’s stuck in pup mode for good.

Get more stories of transformation, sex, and control: https://amzn.to/2DOGfWK

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Oh that last show of arrogance, one could almost say it’s cute! Giving the finger to drone #6 was and utter indication of how he wished to be examined. The chamber was soon filled with gas and the defiant stud soon went limp, dangling from the chains.

He woke some time later, ‘‘MMRRRPPHHH….UURRRRR’‘ could be heard from the mask now encasing his face, indicating our feisty stud was awake and well. The nice latex suit keeping him hot and sweaty, he tried to move but our drone had ensured he was nicely strapped to the bed. His eyes look less defiant and more nervous through those lenses as our drone wafted an 8inch dildo in his face!!

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Alex doesn’t live here anymore

Alex looked into the mirror examining his reflection. At the age of 36 he was in perfect shape, the results of working out at the gym regularly and a healthy diet. The rubber wrapped his body like a second skin, highlighting his muscles, just the way he wanted it to be. 

On that Friday night he would go out and have some fun, at first at his favorite fetish bar where he would meet his friends; and after that he would spend the night with a hook-up. He could also participate in an orgy that had been organized by one of his special buddies. There were a lot of possibilites.

10 months had passed since Alex and his wife Anne made the decision to have an open marriage. Their therapist had advised them to do so as it allowed Alex to explore his attraction for men.

Alex and Anne knew each other for 21 years. They fell in love in high school, dated during their college years and got married after a two-year engagement. Anne couldn’t remember a moment she ever doubted her decision to spend her life with Alex. In addition to being a faithful and understanding husband he was also a loving father to their two daughters (9 and 6) and their son (4). She admitted that there were times they weren’t on good terms. But they always resolved their issues.

A year ago Alex experienced a sudden change when a cousin came out as a lesbian. That incident made him wonder how it was to have sex with the same gender. At first he was just curious. But after a time of fantasizing and secretly watching gay porn he felt a strong urge to make his fantasies into reality.

Alex confessed to Anne his same-sex attraction. She convinced him to see a therapist as she feared for her marriage and the life the two of them had built together the last ten years.

Two months later they came to the conclusion that Anne had to accept what Alex needed and what he was asking of her. She had to let him explore.

Anne: “I had nothing to lose by trying, so I agreed to an open marriage—well, a one-sided one anyway. With all that was going on and three young kids, finding someone else to have sex with just wasn’t something I was remotely interested in. I had everything I needed with Alex, but he needed this to help him figure things out.”

They drafted an agreement and negotiated the details: Alex could go out every other Friday evening. He needed to be safe. He could communicate with his ‘friends’ during the week but not at home—not during family time.

Anne: “It was all planned, but now it was going to happen. Intellectually, I had wrapped my head around it, but my heart was still lagging behind. Those first few times he met his friends, I had what I can only describe as out-of-body experiences.”

While Anne stayed at home waiting for her husband’s return Alex made various life-changing discoveries. He found out that he was drawn to the gay fetish world. Within a couple of months he purchased an entire wardrobe of rubber gear. He also changed his appearance, having his hair shaved to a severe buzzcut, his arms and shoulders tattooed and wearing a septum piercing.

Anne: “Fortunately, the changes didn’t happen overnight. At first, before he would buy a new piece of rubber clothing or get a tattoo he would approach me and ask for my consent. I would always agree. About two months ago he stopped asking me. At the same time we stopped to be intimate.”

Alex made new friends who showed him the ropes. He was a quick learner, becoming a stable figure in their local gay fetish scene.

Anne: “On the Fridays when Alex would see his friends, I’d try to ignore him getting ready in the morning. It was sometimes painful to watch him put in a little more effort than he normally would. I found it easier not to have any contact with him on those days until I received a text saying “I’m on my way home.” Those words were the reason I was able to do this for him—it meant that his evening was over. He was coming home. I had made it through.”

Alex never told Anne about his escapades. He didn’t have to ever since the day Anne secretly picked up his mobile phone and went through his photo gallery. She found pictures of Alex on his knees while sucking off various men. There was even a video that showed him lying on his back, wearing a pair of rubber chaps and heavy boots. His legs were hold by a man in a rubber suit who had his cock buried in Alex’s mouth. In the meantime another rubberman was pushing a giant red dildo into Alex’s ass. 

Anne didn’t watched the video to the end. But she later confronted Alex with it. He finally confessed to her that he had been introduced to rough sex which included fisting. 

Alex: “After two months exploring the gay world some of my new buddies invited me to an orgy. I accepted their invitation. There I met a couple. They convinced me to have my first fisting session. It was an eye-opening experience. Ever since then I am addicted to fisting.”

On that day Anne realized that Alex was no longer the man she married and it was just a matter of time he would tell her: “Honey, I’m gay. I can’t live here anymore.”

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Spilled Milk

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Wrong Place, Right Time?

The evening started out as typical as they come. Jorge was visiting from out of town and his friends wanted to show him the artsy district. They'd been stopping at the shops along the way, popping in for coffee and pastries, and eventually sat down at a quaint café for dinner and a couple glasses of wine. Nothing crazy.

What neither Jorge nor his friends knew, this area was a symbol of gentrification. In prior years, it was raunchy, sex-positive, and had few rules. Just beyond what they could physically see, lurking inside abandoned buildings that hadn't yet been converted into lofts or art galleries, were the remnants of years gone by and a presence that was ready to fight back for control.

Jorge had literally just left his friends and was walking the few blocks to his boutique hotel. Three burly men, dressed head to toe in leather emerged from an alley. They definitely looked out of place from the people Jorge had seen in his short time in the area.

Perhaps Jorge stared a moment too long. Whatever it was, one of the men tapped the others which changed their direction, leading them to cross the street. Jorge started to pick up his pace, when one of the men made direct eye contact with him and made a beeline in his direction, taking a long drag off the cigar he prominently displayed in his maw.

Jorge was frozen in his tracks as the man grabbed him by the neck with his gloved hand and took another long haul off his cigar. Tilting Jorge's neck back, he blew a stream of smoke directly into his face then leaned even closer to ensure the remainder of his lung full went directly into Jorge's mouth.

As the smoke one permeated his body, Jorge felt a jolt coming deep inside his core. With a coy smile and a glint in his eyes, Jorge exhaled the smoke. The man then says, "You belong to me now, boy. I am your maker, your owner, and your Master from this day forth. You will serve me and the Brotherhood for the rest of your days. Not that you have a choice, but do you understand?"

Jorge stared in the eyes of this man, who he had never seen before moments ago, with a longing and desire to serve - no, live or die for him. As soon as he uttered the words, "I understand, Master," Jorge bowled over in pain. What he could not see were his muscles expanding - shoulders growing, pecs enlarging. His boyish good looks hardened. His brow furrowed as he grew from 5'7" to 6'2", filling out so much that he had to remove his shirt or be crushed.

As his growth plateued, his Master pulled out a chain with a lock, placing it around Jorge's neck. As he admired his work, he pinched Jorge's nipples. He felt a lasting pain as he realized both of his nipples now held barbell piercings. Jorge also suddenly felt cooler on the sides of his head as he raised his hands to find smooth sides.

His Master pulled out a long, thick cigar and lighter, handing them to Jorge. Once he brought the cigar to life and began to stoke it, his Master stated, "That cigar is not to leave your mouth, boy. It will be in your jaw at all times. If you drop or remove it, you will be punished." Jorge stated, "Yes, Master", although contrary to who he was only moment ago, he had a morbid curiosity to find out what the punishment may be and if he would enjoy it.

With that, his Master snatched the lighter from Jorge's hand and grabbed him by the chain. "It's time to get you tatted up, son, starting with your head. My boys are mean looking fuckers and you will fit in very soon." Pushing the cigar to the side of his mouth with his tongue, Jorge said, "Yes, Master. I am yours to build in your image." "Damn right, boy," Master said as he led Jorge by the chain down the street toward the tattoo parlor, where his fellow Masters were busy converting the artists and patrons into their members of the Brotherhood.

Soon, they intend to have their neighborhood back...

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#smokinghunks #cigarmen #hotkissing

[rrrubber-c]

You don't know who or what you are. This was to be expected. Let me explain it to you. At one time you were my romantic partner, which means we shared an intense emotional bond of a particular kind, one that can evolve between two sexually mature adults. But while I'm still a human being, you no longer are. For you see as our relationship went on, I began to realize that I no longer cared for you in the way I initially had, while at the same time I was still very much attracted to you physically. I just didn't want to talk to you much as the years went by. Also at the same time, my interest in rubber fetishism grew enormously. So here we have the solution to every concern, you see? I paid an enormous sum to have you turned into my rubber fucktoy, which erased your human identity and made you the perfect rubber specimen for my tastes. Your physique was always ideal for my desires, and now it will always be so. And I don't have to pretend to be interested in what you say anymore. I wanted an abstract version of you, pure physicality but without the baggage of your annoying little personality quirks, your variable and often tiresome moods, whatever inane prattle passes for conversation to you, or having to look at your increasingly objectionable face. (Really, that horrible mustache was perhaps the last straw.)

Did you know ancient Greek statues were originally painted in rather garish colors? The gleaming white marble figures we see today are misleading. In the same way, you are now a pure distilled essence of maleness, stripped of all disappointing particulars. Idealized. Perfect.

[rrrubber-c]

[rrrubber-c]

Submitted by Northern Pup: Just can’t stay away I guess.

Bill’s trouble started when he complained to our landlord about the no-pets rule. He’d been wanting to get a dog, and so he went down to berate the building manager about the rules of the lease.

When he came back, he had a weird look on his face.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Bill. “He just laughed at me and said I wouldn’t want a pet so bad if I knew what it was like.”

“What what was like?” I said.

“I don’t know,” said Bill, looking confused. “He just slammed the door and went – woof!” his voice suddenly cracked with a loud bark.

“What was that?” I said.

“Woof! I don’t … I don’t know, man!” Bill exclaimed. Now he looked worried. “My voice feels all – ruff woof!”

“Knock it off,” I said, but Bill staggered forward and fell on all fours.

“I don’t know what’s woof! What’s aroooooo!” he howled, scratching at his body. His clothes started to rip and shred, tattering into threads in his hands and exposing his hairy body.

“Just relax, dude,” I said, starting to panic. “Don’t freak out!”

“What’s – ruff! – what’s happening to me!” Bill cried. He’d nearly ripped all of his clothing off at this point. Fur started to sprout on his ears, down his back, around his legs. A tail pushed its way out of his lower back, wagging back and forth.

“Oh fuck, dude, you’re turning into a dog!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t want to ruff! I don’t wanna be aroooo! A dog! Help me!” he wailed. “You gotta aroooooo! Woof woof woof!”

His voice shifted completely into barks as the fur thickened across his body and his nose turned black.

There was a knock at the door. “Open up,” I heard the voice of our landlord call.

I ran to the door and threw it open. He was standing there with a collar and leash.

“I’ve decided to make some changes,” he said. “To your lease. You can have a pet, as long as he always wears a collar and leash.”

Bill howled helplessly behind me, padding on all fours around the room.

“And if you don’t train him, there will be consequences for you,” the landlord said.

“Consequences?” I asked. “What kind of consequen – woof!”

Ready to turn into a pup and never change back? Read my new ebook, True Pups Book 1.