#Straight to Gay

[misctf]

The Cure for a Break-Up

“I still can’t believe it.” Josh mumbles, flipping through old pictures on his phone, “I really didn’t see it coming.”

Tanner looked up from his videogame and shrugged, “Dude, it’s a break up. Shit happens.” He scratches his wiry pit hairs, scrunching his nose at the smell of his own BO, “How long are you gonna go on about it?” Josh glares at his roommate, “Just sayin’ dude, gotta bang and go. Keep it simple.”

“Yeah, but Haley...” Josh sighs, “You wouldn’t get it. She wasn’t like one of your random hookups. I met her in high school... We’ve been dating for years... I was gonna propose when we graduated... I...” Tears threatened to fall.

“Fuck dude!” Tanner slams his controlled down, “I fuckin’ lost.” He glares up at his roommate, “You’re killin’ my vibe dude.”

He walks over to Josh, “Wipe those tears and man the fuck up.” He digs his finger into Josh’s chest, “I could handle a few days of this. Shit, we didn’t say anything when you fucked up on the field last week. But now? It’s gettin’ old roomie.”

“Fuck off Tanner, I...”

“Live a little bro. You’ve been banging the same chick for the last 7 years.” Tanner smirks, “You have a chance to really enjoy yourself now. Be free, bro.”

Josh let out a grunt as Tanner grabs a fistful of his lean pecs and gives them a firm squeeze.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Josh recoils and moves away from his roommate, “I’m not into that... Huh?”

Josh can’t help be feel an inexplainable warmth radiating out from his pecs. He brings a hand to them, the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive nipples causing him to moan. He looks up towards Tanner, who is sporting a smug smirk.

“What did you.... oooooohhhhhhh...” Josh moans as his lean pecs start to swell.

He can feel them press against the fabric of his shirt, straining against it. The two mounds of flesh continue to grow, forming into a pair of squeezable muscle tits. And as Josh lifts his shirt to inspect them, another moan escapes his mouth. Just the feeling of the cool air against his nips and bounceable pecs was enough to cause his dick to stir.

“Oh fuck...” He plays with his pec, biting his lip, “Dude... what...”

But there’s more to it. Josh looks as his hand seems to thicken and become meatier. Muscle packs on to his forearms and travels up to his shoulders, giving his arms an impressive glow-up. The firm muscles of his bis and tris jutting out, putting even more strain on his tightening shirt. Even his shoulders start to widen, causing his shirt to ride up and expose his stomach, which is contorting and shifting.

“This isn’t possible... Tanner...” Josh grabs his head and closes his eyes, “Tanner I can’t...”

“J-man, ya gotta shut up for once.” Tanner mutters, “Most men would fuckin’ kill for a pair of tits like that.” He walks over and grabs a fistful, “And my man, this is just the start.”

Josh lets out another grunt as his torso expands and widens. Each pulsation sending a wave of pain and pleasure through Josh’s expanding body. Through half-lidded eyes, he looks down and grunts as his shirt finally rips away. His eyes widen in surprise. A red tank-top covers his torso, although truthfully it did little to hide what was underneath. His fat pecs jutted out around it- unable to be contained. And he could appreciate the itching as tiny hairs emerged from his once clean-shaven skin.

“Give ‘em a squeeze, you know you want to.” Tanner chuckles.

“Fuck yeah...” Josh mutters, realizing he sounds drunk. He brings his meaty hand to his pecs, giving them a tender, loving squeeze, “Oh shit...” He scrunches his nose as the musky smell from his pits tickles his nose, “I smell...”

“Fuckin’ great man.” Tanner interjects, “C’mon, give it a whiff.”

And Josh raises his increasingly muscular arm and does just that. The smell of his own musk sets off something primal in his shrinking brain and he grabs his cock with his meaty hand. Memories and images of himself shift within his mind, where an increasing acceptance of these changes blossoms. Memories of date nights turn into one-night fuck sessions. His dreams of a family shift into a series of kinks and ways to get off.

“Tanner...Please...Don’t....” Josh grunts, a swelling sense of pride in his muscles emerging. A total disregard for anyone else burning away his capacity for deep emotional connections.

"Bro, I told ya." Tanner replies, "Its a lot better this way. Trust me."

Josh wants to argue. To tell him he's wrong. But he realizes with a sense of increasing dread he doesn't recall anything different. No memory of his committed relationship. No desire for anything different. He bites his lip- savoring the feel of his body. His masculinity. His ability to get what he wanted, when he wanted.

“Fuck... why didn’t you do this to me earlier?” He breaths out, continuing to pump his engorged member- its girth and length growing in his calloused hand, “You fuckin’ held out on me, bro.”

“Nah man, I don’t think you wanted this.” Tanner shrugs, “After all you and Haley...”

“Who?” Josh’s voice ragged.

Tanner smirks, “Exactly, broski.”

Josh grunts and pulls the tank-top off- his musk filling the room. He grunts at the site of his meaty pecs, firm abdominal muscles, and the blanket of hair covering his growing body.

“I’m a stud.” He mutters, “A beast.”

“Yeah, yeah Josh.” Tanner replies.

“No for real, dude. Take a fuckin’ look.”

Josh moans as a tattoo becomes engraved in his meaty pec and arm. He looks at it, a grin spreading across his face. He firmly grabs his cock and falls to the couch, pumping relentlessly. He was made for this. A bull with a massive cock. Anyone... everyone would be lucky to pleasure it. He throws his head back, not even registering as his jaw squared out, his eyes dull, and light stubble emerges on his cheeks.

“Oh god yes.” His voice is deeper, carrying an arrogant air to it, “I’m gonna... I’m....”

He sees his body. The muscle, the hair. The smell of his ripe pits. His massive dick. It felt so right... so good... A deep love for himself bathed his neurons. No one was as good as him.

"Ahhhhhh fuck yes...."

Ropes of sticky cum shoot from his monster of a cock, coating his hairy chest and abdomen. After a few ragged breaths, his dull eyes open and he grins.

“Feel better?” Tanner asks, throwing Josh his tank-top.

“The fuck you talkin’ about?” Josh catches it and wipes away his seed before wearing the tank-top, “Never felt anything but great.”

“Sure stud.” Tanner sits on the couch, getting back into his videogame.

The two sit in silence, while Josh scrolls through his phone with one hand and paws at his cock with the other.  

“Fuck yeah.” Josh smirks and stands up, “That fairy from econ wants to worship these.” He gives his pec a bounce, “Always knew he wanted to. He’s lucky I’m feeling generous.” Another ding on his phone and his smirk widens, “And that slut from the cheer team wants to meet up later.”

“Look at you go.” Tanner remains focused on his game.

“Pfft have fun with your game, bro.” Josh mumbles, “Wastin’ your time if you ask me.”

Tanner watches as Josh leaves, “Fuckin’ finally. Just need to rank up...” He continues to play his game, no longer bothered by any distractions.

Meanwhile, Josh sat in his car. He always liked to send his next fuck-toy a preview of what was to come. With a satisfied smirk, and a new lease on life, Josh revved his engine and headed off.

[sexino]

Pedro presented himself as a confident, secure, straight man at work, but after hours he worked on building his ass and tits for the real men that fucked him silly.

[alphajocklover]

I work as a lifeguard at a local waterpark, and i see dilfs all of the time—but they don’t see me. I think it’s because i’m too young and scrawny for them, you think you could fix that?

Hey there! So, I have some bad news, some good news, and some worse news. I’ll start with the first bad news, because it's really bad. I… sort of got hacked. Well, not in the way you’re thinking. With all the sensitive TF related information I have on my computer, I have a lot of protection on it. I can’t expect people to send me their greatest desires if they know they might get seen by someone untrustworthy. The bad news is that I didn’t realize that someone could use magic to hack my computer. They didn’t get much before the protection spell on my house detected it, but it did get a few things. Including… your message. The good news is, I know the person who hacked me, or at least of them, and I know they will actually grant your wish. The worse news is that they’re going to go absolutely overboard.

I don’t know who they really are, but from what I’ve been able to find, they call themselves The Mad Scientist. Like, they actually call themself The Mad Scientist. Which isn’t the most cliche thing I’ve ever heard but is pretty out there. They’re a tf reporter, like me and my Uncle, but they’re a lot more… reckless. They don’t just report cases and change people based on individual requests, they change dozens, if not hundreds of people at a time, usually without a care for the effect it has on people’s lives. I suspect they’re the one who has been messing with The Master, since they seem to see both The Master and My Uncle as rivals, in some twisted way. It would make sense. They’re powerful, good with tech, love messing with anyone they can, and have no care for how they transform people. And now that they’ve seen your request, you’re their next target. Or, as they’d say, their next experiment. Usually I wouldn’t know what would happen after that, but they actually sent me a video of what they did. I think they did it to mock me. 

It was a regular day at the waterpark, right in the middle of your shift, when it happened. You were watching the wave pool, when you started to notice that every man in the pool was beginning to… change. Some were getting younger, seniors losing years in seconds until they ended up somewhere in their early thirties, well some were getting older, fresh faced 18 year olds aging up as they became more mature, more handsome. Every man, regardless of age, was piling on muscle and growing an impressive smattering of body hair. Looking around in shock, you could see that women and children weren’t affected, and notably every man not in the pool seemed perfectly normal, but every man who was already in the water seemed to be turning into a huge, hung, muscular DILF. You could also see, from the dazed, lust filled look in each of the DILFs eyes, and how they were already starting to grope and kiss each other, that each of them had become gay, slutty and horny.

You knew you should run. That you had to get away from the pool, get out of the park, call the authorities or something. But… everything you wanted was right there in front of you. And, if you ever were cured, you could always say someone slashed you or something. You somehow knew, instinctively, that the water was what was changing these people, and that all it would take to change you into a beefy DILF was a single drop.

As you dipped your toes into the water and felt a haze come over your mind, you could hear loud sexual moaning, all around you, not only coming from the pool, but the other rides. It looked like all the water in the park had been infected with whatever this was. Which meant all of the men in the entire park… You chuckled dumbly and smirked as you felt hair grow across your beefy pecs. This water park just got a whole lot more interesting.

[benjihm]

[anothermaletfwriter]

Papaya Problems

(My take on this personal favorite story )

Leo stared at the wrapped artisan bath bomb his Vietnamese girlfriend had gifted him. He could never beat the gay allegations, from his twink build to bright blue eyes, dirty blonde hair that smelled of sea salt spray and soft pale skin that was the envy of others. His extensive skincare routine and love of fruity and sweet scents didn’t help either. But he didn’t mind the allegations as he and his wonderful girlfriend, Vivian, knew it had no basis besides superficial stereotypes. For Vivian, it was one of her favorite aspects about him.

The bath bomb was specially crafted from a secret combination of scents and aromas. No added dyes or preservatives. All perfect for his sensitive skin. Vivian had bought a crate’s worth of them on her 3 week excursion to Vietnam earlier in the month. She apologized to Leo for not knowing the exact names. She still had difficulty mastering the tonal sounds of Vietnamese, let alone being able to read the alphabet. From her own clunky comprehension,  its name was “Kiss of Papaya.”

Leo started the bath. Soft steam filling the room. He took off his headphones, the rush of hot water covering his ears. 

A voice at the door shattered the internal serenity. His friend, Jake, opened the door slightly, his blonde hair peeking through, “Bro we’re about to hop in the jacuzzi. Kyle’s got the drinks and inflatable cooler ready.”

“I’m taking a bubble bath first. Vivian got me this,” Leo smiled, holding up the unwrapped bath bomb. It felt like Styrofoam in his hands, seemingly malleable.  Its patterns of vibrant pink and oranges weaving into each other as spirals.

“You’d rather take a princess bath with that gay tennis ball? Some days I feel like you’re actually gay.”

“I’m not. The only thing that determines if I’m gay is if I like men, not my skincare or self care routines. As far as I’ve known, I only like women and I don’t expect that to change. Besides, Vivian’s out for errands and will join us in the jacuzzi later.”

“Pfft. Just hop in once you’re done. We’ll be playing silent Marco Polo.” 

The door shut. Warm water rose to a few inches before overfilling. The ceiling lights shimmered and refracted on the surface like the sun. The warm steam massaged his bare body once he undressed entirely. Once in the water, the bath bomb fizzled out into orange, pink and green foams like soda. He slid slowly into the warm fruity waters. His head felt blank as he closed his eyes. 

The sting of chlorinated Papaya water woke him up. He shot up from the tub, foamy water splashing on the floor. It smelled of papaya and mango, which were now familiar to him. His nose and mouth stung residually from the aromas. His skin was much tanner with an undertone of amber. He figured it was from the lighting. Yet his skin did not wrinkle as it usually did from prolonged water contact. He continued to inspect the rest of his bare body, now much bulkier in frame. His butterfly tattoo migrated from his torso to the right shoulder. No longer a butterfly, it was a geometric pattern with an additional two thick red lines wrapped around his right wrist. He finished his inspection in the mirror. His dirty blonde hair was freshly cut in ink black and straight. His physique had bulked, turning him into a bonafide Asian hunk. He flexed his darker arms and took a selfie. 

He thought of how hard he was going to pound Vivian and pulled up a bikini photo of her. Yet, he couldn’t get hard. No matter how hard he thought or motioned, it stayed flaccid. His member only grew with a quick glance of an Asian twink in the background. Well fuck, the allegations were true now. 

He dried and dressed himself in bare essentials, finding the crate of different bath bombs at the corner. Now being able to read Vietnamese, it had a big disclaimer: Men who used the bath bomb would become gay, regardless of their previous sexuality. There were bath bombs of other colors and scents in the crate, some of them would turn the user Filipino and others into Korean. 

Kyle rested in the jacuzzi. The blue lights illuminated their pale bodies. He complained of how long Leo was taking with the bath bombs. He was shocked to see the Asian hunk instead of the white twink he had spoken to earlier. 

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Leo. The bath bombs turned me into this muscular Asian hunk.”

“That’s sick, bro. Vivian’s gonna love that.”

“Actually I broke up with her a minute over text before I got here.”

“You fumbled a baddie, dude. Why?

“Because I’m into dudes now,” Leo snarled, inching the crate of bath bombs closer to the edge of the bubbling jacuzzi. “Especially like the future Asian guys you are all going to be,” To the shock of Kyle and the rest of the group, the bath bombs dropped into the water, unleashing a potpourri of aromas. 

When Vivian came to collect her things, she watched the Asian hunks make out and fuck each other by the side of the jacuzzi. Her heart was broken and at that point, Leo was unrecognizable. She tried to drown out the endless moans and gay club music with the same headphones she had gifted Leo. If she had known Vietnamese even a little bit better, things would have gone differently. A little comprehension goes a long way.

[artificial-transmutations]

The Stud Shack

"The Stud Shack?" Eric read from the flyer with a voice conveying more than a little doubt. He was sitting squeezed in between two of his friends, Ryan and Noah, in the back seat of a car.

"Oh, don't mind the name, it's gonna be awesome!" Ryan, his best friend, chimed in from the left. "It's just a remote cabin meant for a getaway with a couple of dudes, nothing weird. And trust me, a weekend with your friends is what you need right now."

"Yeah, something to get your mind off -" Liam, in the driver's seat, was interrupted by a punch from the muscular jock to his right, Derek.

"Dude! Not cool. Eric, forget about that girl, she was a bitch anyway."

Eric nodded but remained silent. 'That girl' was his long-time girlfriend, who had left him recently. The pain was still fresh, but the trip with the guys was at least a welcome distraction, even though he would have preferred to spend the weekend alone watching TV and staring at the walls.

Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - his friends had a different idea and instead of leaving him to his moping, they had dragged him off to the woods for a 'guy's trip' - whatever that meant. Besides his childhood friend Ryan, with his carefully maintained Viking look, braided beard and all, there were Noah, Derek and Liam.

Noah and Liam were the nerdier types of the group, although they couldn't be any more different otherwise. Where Noah was a quiet and skinny IT expert, Liam was a loud and a bit chubby comic nerd. The two of them were playing DnD together regularly, of course, to complete the stereotype.

Derek, on the other hand, was a typical jock, with short-cropped hair, the physique of a quarterback and the brains of a post, although Eric had to admit that Derek was actually not the asshole everyone assumed a guy looking like him to be. Instead, he was rather warm-hearted and friendly once you got to know him. He was even a bit protective of the other guys in the group, especially the smaller ones.

Which brought Eric's thoughts to himself. He was pretty normal, all things considered, but perhaps the least manly of the lot, a fact he was constantly aware of since they started this trip. Not only was he rather short, he lacked all qualities that made a guy attractive to the fairer gender; there were no muscles to his frame and his baby-face was as smooth as the rest of his body. Even the two nerds were, in a way, more manly than he was: Liam was a sweater and had an aggressive natural body odor, a fact that he was thankfully fully aware off and successfully battled by changing clothes more than often and using copious amounts of deodorant. While this was certainly the dark side of manliness, it was still better than the nothing that Eric could offer in that regard.

Noah on the other hand... On the first glance, there were about as many male qualities to him as there were to Eric, besides the former being a bit taller. However, Eric had seen his friend in the shower after a rare occasion of them both going to the gym, and Noah's dick was *considerably* bigger than his own. That was also a point of envy for Eric, and it had stung quite a bit when his girlfriend had mentioned his 'cute little dickling' as another reason why she had grown tired of him.

No, Eric summarized, it had been a miracle he had been able to find one woman to date him, and that was not likely to happen again. Perhaps he should just accept his fate and stay single forever.

It was already getting dark as the car stopped in front of the cabin, and Eric had to admit that the place looked rather nice. Nestled between a few trees, the cabin was built out of large, sturdy logs and the whole area was illuminated by the soft lights of the setting sun. It looked a lot better than he had expected from a 'stud shack'. Perhaps this whole trip wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

As they got out of the car, Noah pulled a paper from his pocket and squinted at it in the fading light.

"Uhm, the door should be unlocked. And here's the Wi-Fi password. And the owner wishes us a 'transformative stay', whatever that means."

He shrugged, put the paper away again and stepped up to the front door to confirm that it was indeed open.

The inside of the cabin was tidy and rustic. The whole floor was covered in a plush carpet, and a few large sofas dominated the living room, along with a large flat screen. That was, however, not the thing that immediately captured Eric's eyes.

"What the..." he began, accompanied by similar exclamations from the other guys. Only Ryan's exclamation was a bit different: "Hot!"

In the middle of the living room was a stone pillar that supported the second story of the cabin. It was, however, not smooth. Intricately worked into the gray stone were figures winding around the pillar, in varying shapes and sizes and - that became obvious even from the distance - all very male and completely naked. Only on second look, Eric noticed that they were not consistently proportioned, as if depicted in a scene of in-between shifting into other forms. One arm of one of the guys looked considerably bigger than the other one, for example. On the third look, it got even weirder. What Eric thought to be separate figures were actually merged and conjoined with one another, forming a large sculpture of a strange mass of bodies that wound their way around the pillar, with no beginning and no end. It was an endless tangle of manly bodies, and he could see muscles bulging and flexing, asses round as melons and cocks big enough to be seen from the distance.

"That's... an orgy." Noah remarked in a dry tone.

"Well, at least we know now where the cabin got its name." Eric agreed.

"Yeah. Who would want *that* in his living room?" Liam said, equally confused.

"Me!" Ryan replied, still ogling the sculpture.

It was no secret Ryan was gay, openly and proudly. He could often been seen hitting on the next guy on Grindr and commented on men he found attractive so often it had become a running gag in the group. So, it was no surprise he had to comment on this piece of art, too.

"Dude, these guys are fucking *hot*. Look at this one's arms, and this one's abs. Fuck, I'd love to lick that chest."

"Ryan!" Derek exclaimed.

"What?"

"You're being horny again." Derek reminded him matter-of-factly and Liam chuckled.

"Ryan is *always* horny."

The other guys nodded, and Ryan laughed.

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna ogle this piece of art *in silence* then."

"Good. Now, how about we get settled in and start the weekend?" Noah proposed, and the other guys agreed.

They dropped off their stuff in the bedrooms and returned to the living room. Derek had grabbed a cooler full of beer, and soon, they were lounging on the couches, drinking and chatting while the TV showed the highlights of last night's games. Besides the large totem pole like pillar in the middle of the room, the 'stud shack' seemed to be nothing more than a cozy cabin. And, Eric suspected, since the column was load-bearing, it wouldn't have been easy to remove it, even if the owner didn't like it. It was easy enough to ignore, though, and the evening was filled with laughter, beer, junk food and stories, just as Ryan had promised.

The long drive took its toll and one by one, the guys went to bed, until only Ryan and Eric were left in the living room. It was time for a serious talk, as Eric saw it.

"Thanks for taking me along, Ryan. It is... nice."

"Hey, no problem, dude." Ryan replied, smiling. "We're friends. And I know that you wouldn't have gotten over her on your own, you need a bit of distraction."

"Thanks. Hey, uhm, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Always. Shoot."

"You're gay, right? Do you think I'm attractive?"

"Wha- where does that come from?"

"My ex, you know. She dumped me. And I think it's because I'm not, well, handsome. I mean, look at those guys."

Eric stood up and circled the pillar, pointing at the various naked male forms. When he found a particularly attractive face, he let his finger brush over it and twitched back for a second as he felt like he had received a mild static shock.

"They're... hot. You said so yourself when you entered. And I am... nothing of that sort. How am I supposed to find a girl like that?"

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, man. You're a nice guy."

"Perhaps I am *nice*. But nobody cares for *nice*, at least no woman." It sounded bitter than he had planned.

Ryan sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to say this... But you are a great guy, Eric. Smart, friendly, always there to listen. There is a girl for every straight guy, even for a dork like you. And that girl will love you and you'll make her happy. You just have to find her first."

"Yeah. Thanks for saying that, Ryan. But how am I supposed to do that? I had to go to college to meet my ex and now that I have my job..."

"Look, I get it," Ryan interrupted. "You think you need to market yourself better. And you know what? If you think you need to do that, do it, man."

"Like, how?" Eric looked up and saw his friend grinning at him.

"Hit the gym, dude. Get those gains. Every girl wants a man with muscle."

"I... don't know. I don't have time, and I don't know if I have the dedication..."

"Then start smaller. Like... Grow a beard. Beards are hot! Look at mine."

Ryan ran a hand over his chin and the intricate braid in his beard.

"I don't think I could pull that off." Eric laughed. "My beard is so thin, it looks like a teenager's. I have literally no natural hair growth anywhere."

"Come on, it can't be *that* bad," Ryan laughed and felt Eric's chin. However, as he did, something weird happened. It felt like another static shock to Eric, and after a split second, a surprised look conquered Ryan's face, who was still grabbing his chin.

"What's wrong?"

Eric tried to turn his head away, but Ryan's hand followed.

"I... I'm stuck somehow."

"What?"

"Yeah. I can't let go of your face. It feels like... like I'm being pulled in."

As Ryan spoke, his hand moved forward a bit, and his fingers started to sink into Eric's skin.

"Woah, what's happening here?" The surprise quickly turning into panic as he tried to dislodge his right hand using the left one. But as he touched his hand, the sinking process spread to both of them and they disappeared up to his wrists in Eric's face, while his friend could only look in surprise, feeling nothing but a warm, fuzzy sensation.

"This isn't good! Dude! What is going on?" Ryan was full-on panicking by now, and his struggling only accelerated the whole thing. His arms were sucked into the face of Eric now, and they continued to move forward.

"Ryan!" Eric exclaimed in horror, but he didn't know what to do. Ryan's torso was being pulled in, too, and he could see his friend's face pressing against his own. Their lips touched, and suddenly Ryan was gone, and his feet had vanished into Eric's face. Eric was alone, safe for a heap of Ryans clothes in front of him.

"Ryan? Where are you, buddy?" he asked, confused, and his hand went to his face. It felt normal, and everything seemed fine. Had he imagined it?

But then, his hand touched his chin, and he was in for another surprise. Instead of his usual smoothness, he felt a generous amount of beard that had sprouted on his chin. It was nothing like the carefully maintained long beard Ryan had sported. Instead, it was a wild growth of hair, like one would expect from someone who hadn't shaved for a week. But that wasn't possible. This beard was longer than the amount of facial hair he had in total, and he certainly hadn't grown it in the last two seconds. And there was something else that was off. When he touched the unkempt hair, he felt... pride. It was such an alien feeling that it immediately became clear to him it wasn't entirely his own.

"Ryan? Are you... in there?"

He received no answer, but it *felt* like Ryan somehow. There could be no doubt. Ryan was somehow a part of him now. He should have panicked at that thought, but what Eric felt was something else entirely. It felt good. Right. As if his life had been missing a puzzle piece, and it had just been added to him. He liked the feeling, and he liked the new beard. It even made him a bit horny if he was being honest. Or more than a little bit perhaps.

He quickly gathered Ryan's clothes and disappeared into his bedroom, where he proceeded to jerk off furiously. He didn't understand one bit of what had just happened, but it was *incredibly* arousing. While he was pumping his shaft, his thoughts were drawn to men. It wasn't even a conscious decision, but it just felt right. So, as the image of his muscular buddy Derek appeared in his mind, his hand sped up and he was cumming in no time, spraying his cum on the bed sheets with a groan.

"Fuck, Ryan. Seems like you gave me more than a beard." Eric said, suddenly very tired. "Guess I'm gay now, huh?"

***

The next morning came, in after another jerk-off-session right after waking up, a certain post-nut-clarity set in. What should he tell the other guys? He could hardly tell the truth, that Ryan had been absorbed into his chin and had become his freaking beard!

No, he had to come up with a cover-story. And he needed to explain his sudden facial hair. Well, for the last problem, there was a solution.

"Sorry Ryan, I have to trim you a bit."

With that, he took out his razor and trimmed the dense stubble to a more believable length. He didn't want to get rid of it entirely, no, if he hadn't been in this situation, he wouldn't have shaved it at all. But Eric was confident the new growth would regrow quickly.

Explaining Ryan's absence wasn't as difficult as he imagined it to be, as well. After a quick breakfast with the rest of the team, Eric told them that Ryan had gotten up earlier than everyone else and had gone to a Grindr-date. It wouldn't have been the first time for Ryan to do that, so the other guys accepted the story, and the remaining four went on a hiking tour, as planned.

He received a few comments on his new stubble, which made him feel proud. For the first time in forever, Eric felt like he was making something out of himself.

The hike was hot and tiresome, and soon, they all were sweating profusely. Liam apologized constantly and was even more uncomfortable than usual. It was rather unnecessary if you asked Eric. Liam should just be proud of his manly traits instead of constantly promising to take a shower right after they returned to the cabin. But of course, the main attraction on the hike was Derek. The jock had taken off his shirt at the earliest opportunity to show off his impressive physique and muscles, and while the other two were ogling nature, Eric couldn't help but stare at his friend. A coating of chest hair accentuated the definition of his pecs and abs and was glistening in the sunlight as drops of sweat were rolling over his torso. Eric felt his shorts becoming tighter and he had to tear his gaze away to prevent an awkward situation.

Finally, they arrived back at the cabin and both Liam and Noah went straight for both the available showers, leaving him with Derek in the living room.

"You should take your shirt off as well, to help cooling off," the jock suggested, and Eric was happy to comply. However, as the minutes passed, Eric's gaze was shifting between his friend and the stone pillar. Derek was looking awfully good, and Eric felt a sting of envy. With muscles like that, with chest hair like that, he could surely have any guy he wanted. He would be a stud, the manliest man in the room. His eyes were fixated on the chiseled torso of Derek, who was sitting comfortably on the sofa. And then, there was the 'totem pole'. Eric didn't quite understand what had happened to Ryan yesterday, but it all started after Eric had touched the stone column. Perhaps, if he did that again...

Eric's hand was drawn to the sculpture, and he ran his fingers over the cold stone. He could almost feel the power of those guys in the rock itself. And, sure enough, there had been the mild static shock again.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Derek's voice brought Eric back to the reality. He saw that he had touched a face of a particularly beefy figure.

"Sorry, I was lost in thoughts. Hey, uhm..."

Did he really want to do that? But the new *urge* was getting stronger and stronger. Derek was not a clever man. This should be easy.

"Sorry, I'm still a bit sad. Could perhaps give me a hug?"

Derek looked at him suspiciously but then shrugged.

"Sure, dude." And he got up and approached his friend. Eric couldn't help but notice how Derek's pecs were flexing, and his abs were shifting with each step he made. They hugged and their bare chests touched. At the same time, however, Eric could feel his boner pressing into the groin of the other man, thankfully separated by layers of fabric. Before Derek could comment on the unwanted poking in his nether regions, however, the magic of the pillar took hold and the naked flesh of their chests touching merged together.

"Wha-" was all Derek could say before his body was being sucked into Eric's. His muscular arms were already gone, and he could only stare at the other guy in horror.

"I'm sorry, Derek. Don't worry, you will make a fine addition to my body." Eric didn't quite understand why he said that, but it felt... fitting.

Derek's head was sucked in and Eric's chest expanded, growing into a mirror of the muscular jock's own. At the same time, dense hair erupted from his chest, growing into a carpet that covered his pecs and his stomach. The feeling was incredible, like the orgasm earlier, only better. His whole body felt as if he was getting pumped up, and his muscles inflated all over. Derek's consciousness, however, faded into the mat of hair on his chest. It was a different feeling than Ryan's. Where Ryan had been a prideful presence, Derek was a calming one. It was almost as if his new muscles were reassuring him, telling him he was doing good. And, where he was constantly aware that Derek was still there and enjoying the ride, Derek's presence faded until it was only a faint background feeling. He was still there, but somehow less so than Ryan.

"Thanks dude." he said smilingly and ran his hands over his new muscle - and his new hair. It was ecstatic, intoxicating and addictive. Eric needed *more*. More to complete him. To turn him from the lame Eric he was to the stud he needed to become. And the urge was so strong that he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to.

His hand went to his groin and felt the boner that was still standing hard as rock against his shorts. Before he could start in earnest however, Noah and Liam entered the room, fresh from the shower with a towel around their waists.

"Is everything alright? I thought I heard Derek..." Liam began but was interrupted by Noah.

"Holy shit. What happened to you, dude?!"

He stared at Eric's new physique, and the latter grinned broadly.

"Like what you see, huh?" he said, and suddenly, he found himself *growling*. It was a deep animalistic growl, and the two other guys stepped back, intimidated.

There was no way he would be able to explain the scene, so he had to act quickly. His hand found the stone pillar and another mild shock made him aware of the power within.

"Guys, I'm feeling a bit lonely. Why don't you come here and give me a big group hug, hm? You both look so nice and clean and fresh, I would hate to leave you out."

However, unlike Derek, these two weren't quite so easy to convince. They exchanged a look and remained at a distance to the hunky guy.

"Dude, something's wrong here. Where is Derek? You should sit down, maybe we can get you some help..."

"I don't need help." Eric pointed out and circled the two of them, herding them away from the door and into a corner.

"I need *more*." And with a jump, he tackled Liam to the ground, easily overpowering the unfit man with his newfound strength.

"Your manly musk is *wasted* on you, Liam. You're too afraid to wear it proudly. Well, not anymore. Let's see how you like it in my *pits*."

He didn't give the other man the opportunity to react, instead forcing his armpit to Liam's face. It was only seconds before his pits made contact with his skin, and just like his chest with Derek, Liam was immediately sucked into the quickly moistening caverns.

Eric's pits grew deeper and started to sweat profusely. At the same time, he could feel the essence of Liam joining him as what had been Liam quickly dissolved into a dense coating of hair. Just as he was halfway absorbed, Eric quickly changed sides, giving his left armpit the same treatment. It was almost as if his pits were *hungry*, and the wet heat of his body sucked in the last of Liam's being until there was nothing left. Instead, his armpits were positively *hairy* now, and a musky and manly odor emanated from them and his whole body.

Liam's presence was clearly trapped in the bush of his pit hair, and Eric could clearly tell that he hated every second of it. But it was not like he had any choice. Liam was a part of him now, and he would have to get used to his new existence.

But Eric didn't have time to enjoy the sensations, since there was still Noah, who was cowering in the corner of the room, like a trapped animal. Eric growled at him and the other man winced. He was a lot weaker than Liam, and Eric would have no trouble at all to pin him against the wall.

He grinned a predatory grin and his presence and body odor flooded the room.

"You don't have to be afraid, Noah. It doesn't have to be like that. You can join me voluntarily... Or I can force you."

"I... I... Don't... You..." Noah's stammer was almost funny, and Eric chuckled, as he noticed the bulge forming in the other man's towel.

"Here's an offer. If you join me out of your free will, I am going to let you choose where you want to go on my glorious body. What's it gonna be, Noah?"

Noah's eyes flicked back and forth between Eric's armpits, his chest and his abs, clearly looking for a place to hide from the hungry pits that had just consumed Liam. His eyes stopped on Eric's crotch, however, and his large cock twitched under the cover of his towel. It seemed like he had made his choice.

"Say it, buddy. Tell me what you want. Which part of my hair do you want to become?"

Eric touched the totem column, getting ready for action. He knew what Noah wanted, but he wanted to hear it from the man himself.

"I... want to be your..." he stammered, but Eric's piercing gaze told him there was only one right answer and he had to say it.

"... pubes. I want to be your pubes. Please!"

"See, that wasn't so bad." Eric smirked. "Are you ready to become nothing more of a mat of dirty groin hair on my studly body? Are you ready to live a life in my pants, never to see the light of day again?"

"Yes! Please!"

Noah had given up on any resistance, and his hand went down to his own crotch and started stroking himself through his pants.

"Good. Then blow me!" Eric growled, and his dick sprang free from his shorts, rather short, erect and already leaking pre-cum. Noah was immediately on his knees and started servicing the dick of his friend, eager to please him. As before, a pleasurable warmth spread, this time in Eric's groin. He used his large hand to press Noah's face into his groin, feeling it and the rest of his body disappearing into the dense forest of his crotch.

Eric didn't feel the usual climax he expected, but the pleasure kept building and building. When Noah was completely absorbed, his dick was surrounded by a thick bush of black pubic hair, and he was hornier than ever before. But that wasn't everything. Several inches of length and girth had been added to his now massive tool, surpassing even what Noah had before.

"Fuuuuck." he groaned loudly, his hand furiously jerking his dick. Noah's consciousness was now with him. And unlike the other guys, Noah was perpetually horny. Who would have expected that from his quiet friend? He had to cum, and he had to do it right here, right now!

Eric's massive cock erupted into his hand, spraying rope after rope of cum across the stone column in the middle, leaving a sole man panting and catching his breath. Eric looked down on himself proudly. A new stud was born, and he was ready to conquer the world.

Getting back into writing isn't going as smoothly as I hoped! I sat on this story for way too long. I hope, you guys enjoy it anyway, although it's a tiny bit darker than usual!

[misctf]

Hive X: Making Sarge Proud

Quick Note: Hope everyone is doing well out there! To celebrate the summer, I have four sequels to some of my older stuff planned. Three are direct sequels, and one (being this one) is an indirect sequel. Hope you enjoy!

The military base was quiet as John walked through the halls, his boots echoing with each step. He ran a hand through his short brown hair, sighing heavily. The disappearance of Sergeant Reeves weighed heavily on his mind. Reeves was a good man- a good soldier. Welcomed him, taught him, served as that older brother John needed in his life. For Reeves to just disappear without a trace, everyone assuming he went AWOL... it didn't sit right with John.

"Goddamnit Reeves, where the hell are you?" John muttered under his breath as he slipped away from the barracks, a small duffel bag slung over his shoulder, "Fuck all this..."

John made his way to an area on base that was rarely visited. Carefully, he slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his Hive-X gear. Hive-X was strictly forbidden on base- something about national security. But fuck it - he needed this. Needed to blow off some steam and forget about everything for a while.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," he said to himself, setting his bag down and starting to strip. John's lean physique was soon on full display as he donned the VR headset, wrist and ankle cuffs, and waist band.

And as John put on the VR headset, the world around him melted away, replaced by the familiar lobby of Hive-X. The sensations were immediate and overwhelming - his skin tingled all over, hyper-sensitive and yearning for touch.

"Fuck, I needed this," John groaned. Despite having experienced this countless times before, the initial rush never failed to take his breath away.

Still, a flicker of self-consciousness passed through him as he stood naked in the opulent lobby. John's hands instinctively moved to cover himself before he caught himself and let them fall to his sides.

"Get it together." he muttered. "Nobody's judging here."

"Welcome back, User John." NPC 202 greeted from behind him, "I trust you're here for your usual stress relief session?"

John nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, you know it. This week's been a real bitch and I need to unwind."

"I completely understand." NPC 202 replied, its expression remaining neutral even as its eyes subtly roamed over John's nude form. "Based on your preferences and our analysis of your current emotional state, we recommend assigning you to NPC 253 for today's encounter. Shall I escort you to the appropriate room?"

"Wait, hold up. Did you say NPC 253? That's not one of my usual partners."

"No, it is not." NPC 202 confirmed. "However, our algorithms have determined that interacting with NPC 253 today will provide optimal results in terms of relieving your stress and emotional turmoil."

"Alright, lead the way then. Let's see what this NPC 253 has to offer." Who was he to argue?

As he followed NPC 202 down the lavish corridor, John's curiosity grew. What made this particular NPC different? What could NPC 253 have that the other's didn't? Bigger tits? Was that even possible?

"We have arrived. Please enjoy your experience." John gave NPC 202 a nod and stepped into the room. And once inside, the door closed behind him.

"What the hell?"

It was like walking into an army barrack- bunk beds lined the walls, lockers stood in the corners, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, gunpowder, and cheap beer. Not exactly what John pictured his escape from reality would look like.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." John saw a figure stir on one of the beds, "You must be the new meat NPC 202 was yapping about."

John stood frozen, his confusion growing as he stared at the muscular man sprawled on the bunk. This wasn't at all what he expected. He was straight, for Christ's sake! Why the hell would NPC 202 bring him to a room with another dude? Especially a muscular, hairy man wearing nothing but a skimpy camo speedo that left little to the imagination. Dog tags glinted on his broad chest, rising and falling with each deep breath.

He swung his legs over the side of the bunk, the movement causing his impressive bulge to strain against the thin fabric of his speedo. And before John knew it, the man was standing directly in front of him.

"No way." John replied, "Sorry, but this isn't what I signed up for."

"Atten-shun!" The man barked, his voice booming through the small room. "Did I stutter, maggot? I said ATTEN-SHUN!"

John flinched, his instincts kicking in as he automatically snapped to attention, standing ramrod straight. The man circled him like a shark, his heavy footsteps thudding on the wooden floor.

"Not bad, soldier" He leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over John's ear. "You're not cut out for command. You're a follower, through and through. Aren't you, soldier boy?"

"What the fuck are you…?"

"Time to teach you some goddamn respect and remind you who's in charge."

NPC 253 grabbed John by the hair, forcefully pulling his face into the man's sweaty, hairy chest. "Worship these pecs, maggot. Show me the respect your superior deserves."

John's eyes widened as his face was forced into the sweaty, hairy pecs of the NPC before him. The hairs tickled his face, the sweat stung his eyes, and the smell... god the smell.

"Le-let go of me! What the fuck?" John tried to push away.

And as pushed away, he caught a glance of the dog tags dangling between the man's pecs. At first, he swore he saw the name 'Christopher Reeves' etched on the metal. But as he blinked, the name shifted and changed, now reading 'NPC 253'.

"Wha…?" John mumbled, momentarily his resistance faltering, his face forced once again against the firm, musky flesh. "Reeves? Is that…?" But the grip on his hair tightened, silencing any further questions.

"Less talking, more sucking, soldier." NPC 253 growled, his free hand roughly palming the back of John's head, "This is what you're good for, isn't it soldier boy?" NPC 253 taunted, his voice a cruel mockery of a drill sergeant's bark. "Not leading, but serving. Not commanding, but obeying. Now, show me how grateful you are. Lick my armpit, maggot. Prove your loyalty and devotion to your superior officer."

NPC 253 raised his arm, presenting the sweaty, dark pit to John's face. John recoiled at the pungent odor emanating from NPC 253's raised armpit. His stomach churned with revulsion, but the iron grip on his hair prevented him from pulling away.

"This is insane," he muttered, his voice muffled against the coarse body hair surrounding the musky crevice. "I'm not… I can't…"

"Can't or won't, soldier?" NPC 253 growled, his fingers tightening painfully in John's hair. "Because I don't recall giving you a choice. Isn't that right, soldier?"

"Go fuck yourself!"

With a burst of strength born from desperation, John managed to twist out of NPC 253's grasp. He stumbled back, panting heavily, his eyes wild and confused.

"What the fuck is going on here?" John demanded, his voice shaking with anger. "Why do you have Sergeant Reeves' dog tags? Where is he? What have you done with Reeves?"

For a brief moment, the stern facade of NPC 253 seemed to crack. The cruel, mocking sneer melted away, replaced by a look of genuine concern and urgency.

"John… please…" he said, his voice low and urgent. "You need to… you need to…"

"Sergeant?" John stepped forward, his hand reaching out to his comrade.

But before Sergeant Reeves could finish his warning, NPC 253's features hardened once more. He lunged forward, grabbing John by the throat and slamming him against the wall.

"Shut your mouth, maggot," NPC 253 snarled, his grip tightening. "You don't get to ask questions. You don't get to demand answers. All you need to know is that I'm in charge here, and you will obey my every command."

With brutal force, NPC 253 shoved John's face into his rank, sweat-soaked armpit. The pungent odor filled John's nose and mouth, making him gag and sputter.

"Look at you, crying and sputtering like a little bitch," NPC 253 mocked, grinding John's face deeper into his musky pit. "Using contraband technology, disobeying direct orders… You're not just a bad soldier, you're a pathetic excuse for a man."

Tears streamed down John's face as the overwhelming stench invaded his senses, making his head spin. He wanted to scream, to fight back, but NPC 253's grip was unbreakable. His muscles trembled with exhaustion and shame.

"Let me go…." John whimpered, his voice muffled against the sweat-slicked hair. "Fuck… Please, stop…"

"Do you hear yourself? Begging for mercy like a weak little pussy," NPC 253 sneered.

"P-Please… No more… Can't take it…"

"What's the matter, soldier boy? Can't handle a little man musk? Pathetic." NPC 253 laughed cruelly, his grip loosening slightly. Leaning in close, his stubble scraping John's cheek, NPC 253 purred, "But maybe… Maybe I can make you a good soldier after all. Would you like that?"

Desperate and with his head spinning, a plan began to form in John's muddled mind. If he just played along, followed the NPC's ridiculous orders, maybe this twisted game would end quicker. Then he could get the hell out of here, find help for Reeves and never set foot in this nightmarish virtual hell again. John forced himself to relax, letting his body go limp in NPC 253's iron grip.

Through gritted teeth, he managed to choke out, "Yes sir… Yes, I want to be a good soldier for you. I'll do whatever you say."

"Good boy."

A searing agony ripped through John's body. He screamed as he felt an intense pain around his arms, legs, and abdomen- just where the Hive-X devices sat.

"Ahhhh! NO! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?"

He writhed as his legs elongated, muscles swelling obscenely as his thighs and calves took on a chiseled, muscular physique, his skin rapidly tanning. Another wave of agony hit as his groin was reshaped, his manhood elongating and thickening, nestled in a neat patch of black curls. He looked down and gasped as his ass inflated and rounded out, perfectly sculpted for maximum visual appeal.

"That's it, let the changes happen. Embrace your new purpose, soldier boy," NPC 253 growled, watching with sadistic glee as John's body warped and morphed.

John could only writhe and moan in anguish, tears streaming down his face as his torso bulked and toned, washboard abs popping into existence. His arms ballooning obscenely with muscle he could only dream of having. His pecs swelling- nipples growing hard against the cool air.

"No no no… Fuck!" John could feel his face began to change, his features softening and his lips plumping into a perfect pout.

"Well look at you, soldier boy."

"Wh-what happened to me?" John recoiled at the breathiness of his voice. The desperation enunciated with each word from his tongue.

"Now where's your uniform, soldier boy?"

He watched in terror as his body was covered in what he would describe as a cheap mockery of a soldier's uniform. It highlighted each of his muscles- the cloth wrapping purposefully to accentuate them.

"Downloading directives… Upload begin…"

"Directives? Wh..."

Panic gripped John as unfamiliar thoughts and urges surged through his consciousness. Flashes of men's muscular bodies, slick with sweat… The pungent aroma of hairy pits… An overwhelming desire to serve, to submit, to worship every inch of male flesh…

"NO! STOP THIS!" John gasped, fighting against the tidal wave of new directives flooding his psyche. But with each passing second, his own memories, his very identity, began to blur and fade.

"Sergeant Reeves!" John cried out desperately towards NPC 253, his voice quivering with primal fear and confusion. "Please… Don't let them… Don't let them change me!"

Memories and desires swirled and changed, blending seamlessly as the transformation progressed. "I-I'm not supposed to want… good soldier… Nngh…" His protests weakened as the new directives took hold.

"But I… ahhh~ …the taste of sweat… of musk…" John shuddered, feeling a foreign hunger stir within him. "My duty… my purpose… to l-lick… worship… with tongue and t-tongue alone…" Drool leaked from his fuller lips.

As the final changes settled, NPC 902 slumped forward limply, looking up at NPC 253 with lust-filled eyes and a dopey grin.

As the last vestiges of John's original identity faded away, NPC 902 rose to its feet, its newly sculpted body rippling with muscle. It turned to face NPC 253, its eyes glazed over with submissive adoration.

"I am NPC 902," it declared in a husky, accented purr. "Serving is pleasure. Being used is pleasure. I am loyal to the Hive."

NPC 902 was led to its new room, the door sliding shut behind it with a soft hiss. It stood in the center of the space, its muscular body on full display, awaiting its first customer. NPC 902 stared at itself, admiring its own reflection - the chiseled abs, the round, perfect ass, the full, inviting lips and tongue made for worshipping.

A panel on the wall lit up, displaying a message: "Customer detected. Prepare for service."

NPC 902's heart raced with anticipation. It knew its true calling now - to serve, to please, to revel in the musky essence of dominant men. It couldn't wait to give them a good show.

[petew21-blog]

Homophobic gym teacher, part 2

I was almost afraid to go to sleep after fucking Jake last night. He went off back home with a sore ass. No wonder when Mr. Mills’s dick is so huge, he’s extremely hung! I am now, hehe.

So yeah, I was afraid that we might switch back. And guess what?! Fuck yeah we didn’t. Shut, I’m already thinking more swear words than before, guess that must be a side effect of being in Mr. Mills’s body. Or of having such a huge body!

Oh man, I freaking love the pecs. I don’t know if I’d rather keep this body or be someone else to enjoy this body from a different point of view. It sure is a big change from my regular body. I wonder how Mr. Mills is doing in mine. Screw that idiot, I’ll enjoy a lot of him today at school. Gotta start the morning right first!

I pulled the briefs and set free my new manhood, already semi-hard

After enjoying a nice jerk-off session, for the first time in my life just appreciating my body, I went to the shower to clean myself off.

I have to find a way to stay in this body, this is something that I just can’t give up.

I stood naked in the bathroom, watching my reflection. Doing poses. I got a bit curious. I searched and found a tape measure. “Let’s see how big you really are.” I jerked it a bit to get hard again, which didn’t take me long. “Holy shit… Daddy is hung!”

Suddenly my phone vibrated. Unknown number. It was a text from Jake.”Are you still him?”

I called him on facetime. “Sup fag.”

Jake:”Dude, you’re still in his body! That is so amazing!”

Me:”How is your ass?”

Jake:”Hurts like hell, but definitely worth it. I can’t wait to see you again.”

Me:”We gotta be careful around Mills and others, ok?”

Jake:”But what if I’ll be too horny? I tasted blood and I want moooore!”

Me:”Can’t get enough of these bad boys?” I said and flexed.

Jake:”Oh man. I wanna tell everyone that Mills fucked me. Wait… is that tape measurei n your hand? You dirty bastard. So how big is it?” Me:”Almost nine freaking inches! Crazy right?!”

Jake:”Yeah, my ass agrees.”

A text from my number came:”Pick me up in 15 minutes”

Me:”Fuck, it’s Mills. He wants me to pick him up. He probably wants to talk about what we’re gonna do at school.”

Jake:”Dude, you’re gonna have to teach!”

I froze. Fuck, Mills is a teacher. Yeah, he teaches PE, but he also teaches healthcare sometimes.

Me:”What am I gonna do? I don’t know anything that Mills does. What if they figure it out?”

Jake:”Don’t worry they won’t. They’ll just think that Mills didn’t sleep well today.”

Me:”Ok, maybe he’ll tell me what to do. See you soon.”

Jake:”See you, daddy” Jake responded, winking.

I looked at myself in the mirror. So far I could only enjoy the fruits of this swap. Now came the hard part. Pretending to be the other person.

I saw my muscles again. God how beautiful I am now. Like a Greek god. I flexed my biceps and snapped a photo for later.

Time to head out.

I picked up Mr. Mills already waiting at the curb in front of my house looking frustrated.

He got in the car without saying anything first.

Mills:”Just drive”

Me:”Where? The school doesn’t start for another hour.”

Mills:”I’ll tell you how to pretend to be me.” he said in a bored, emotionless tone

Me:”Are you ok?”

Mills:”Of course I’m not fucking ok. I lost my hot body to an alien student. How the fuck do you think I feel?!”

I stopped the car. This crossed a line. “Look. I’m not the one who caused this, but if you’re gonna keep on with that racist bullshit, I’m gonna destroy your life, understand? Not only will I get you fired, but I’ll make you a gay pornstar. Besides, do you see you muscles? I’ll beat your ass. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’re not caucasian now, so maybe all of this is just a lesson for you to be more empathetic. So do not tempt me! Understand?!”

Mills had fear plastered all over his face. No one probably threatened him in years. He responded quietly:”Understand.”

I kept on driving. We stopped at the parking lot in front of school. I gave him some brief info about my classes and told him to mostly stick to Jake, not to stand out and not to swear. He then told me what classes he had today and for the healthcare lessons he instructed me to play a movie. Easy. We decided to meet afterschool in the gym. We’d try to switch back.

He left the car right after Jake arrived. Mills looked puzzled from my monologue before and Jake probably noticed. They were walking towards school. Jake turned his head at me and winked. As a reward I flashed him a biceps flex and smiled.

The PE was pretty easy. I just used a whistle, kept on encouraging them and tried not to scream. Some of the students that were usually scared to even enter the room looked more comfortable today.

But the healthcare classes started horribly. The first class was supposed to be about healthy diet and exercise. The movie that Mills recommended wasn’t available, so I had to improvise. Then I figured I could turn this around. I picked four guys in the class who I knew were gym rats. I took off my shirt and started flexing in front of them. I instructed one of them to come and point at the muscles and the class had to name the muscles. How interactive of me, right? Maybe I should consider being a teacher. Most of the class was amused and I even saw one girl taking a quick photo of me.

I thought that everything went smoothly, until I was called into the principal’s office. Yes, me. As Mr. Mills.

I entered the room.

Principal:”Hello, Carl. Sit down, please.”

I did as instructed and watched the principal unsure what was about to happen.

Principal:”Carl, I’m gonna give you one last chance ok.”

Me:”What do you mean?”

Principal:”It’s one thing that you’re screaming at the students, calling them out for their sexual orientation or personal beliefs. I even protected you when the students came to tell me you were hitting on the older students. But today a student came to me to show me a photo of you, shirtless in the class, showing off in front of them. What were you thinking?”

Me:”We were supposed to talk about exercise. I felt that showing the groups of muscles would be interactive and motivational.”

Principal:”That’s not how the mothers of these students will see it. They think you are preying on them. Begging me to fire you.”

Me:”I don’t know what to say.”

Principal:”Don’t say anything. Just don’t make me do the worst. This is your last chance. Leave.”

I left the office feeling kinda bad and angry at Mills. Hitting on students at school? What was he thinking? Yeah I fucked Jake last night, but that’s something different. I’ll have to be more careful from now on.

I met Mills at the gym. We tried recreating the moment, but besides a few bruises, nothing happened. Mills even cried for a moment.

I suggested that he could show me how to work out in his body so that I would maintain his routine. This seemed to get him excited.

Working out at the gym was pretty easy. This body is really strong and used to all of this. It even started to feel good and fun, as if exercising regularly didn’t have to necessarily be painful and boring.

Mills left to go to the bathroom. I snapped a quick photo after posing in the mirror.

Mills:”We said no photos!”

Me:”Yeah we did, except you’re posting these superficial gym photos on your Insta every day. So I figured if we don’t want to let others know about this…”

Mills thought about it for a while and then took the phone from me. He added some hashtags and edited the photo.

We didn’t go to the shower and headed straight to the car. I took him home. We sat quietly in the car for a moment.

Me:”I got a warning from the principal today. He said that it’s your last chance for all the hitting on students and my failure today.”

Mills:”Screw that cocksucker. He thinks he knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t. Maybe just lay low before we fix all of this.”

Me:”Fine, ready to go? I think my mom wants to do quesadillas today. So you better go and help her out.”

Mills looked nervous all of a sudden

Me:”Everything ok? You don’t like Mexican food or what?”

Mills had tears in his eyes again. “No, the food is amazing. And your family is really nice. I am a bit jealous to be honest. My family is broken and we don’t talk to each other. So this is really nice.”

Me:”Ok, I am actually glad you get to experience that. So why the tears?”

Mills:”I… I can’t speak spanish. I don’t know what they say to me most of the time…”

I laughed it off and told him the most common phrases that the González family uses the most. He felt relieved when he found out that it’s a bit repetitive and left the car.

I arrived at Mills' house. Finally alone. I didn’t even take off my clothes soaked from the sweat after the workout. I just entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. I even used the cold water this time! I took the shower head all the way to my face and let the water run down all over my body.

The shirt soaked in the water and soon became transparent. My nipples struggling to pierce the fabric. The wet shirt hugging my frame was a nice touch to the feeling of being big and bulky. I still can’t believe why Mills wouldn’t just stay at home all the time and just appreciate his body. I would.

I placed the shower head back and took off the shirt.

Releasing my imprisoned pecs. Finally being able to feel them and touch them. My dick was getting hard again just after the simple touch alone. I took a bit of shampoo and washed my hair, massaging my scalp. After that I leaned my head backwards and just let the water do it’s thing. I thought about jerking off right there, but maybe waiting for Jake would be better.

I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and texted him.

“Hey, is your ass ready for another round?”

Jake:”Sorry, daddy. Family dinner. Can’t make it tonight.”

“Dude, we don’t know how long I have left in this body. You’d just waste it?”

Jake:”I know… but you know my parents. And trying to come up with an excuse for visiting my teacher in the evening is not really strong against them. Sorry”

I threw the phone on the couch

“Ok, so what now.” I looked around the room. Not really happy that I’d be alone here tonight.

Maybe I don’t have to be…

I downloaded Grindr. Set a profile picture. Sure, but some people might know who MIlls is. Maybe just his chest will work. I found some briefs in the bedroom and approached the mirror. 

“Yeah this is good. I’ll edit the head out.” Maybe I was being too soft on Mills, but I kind of didn’t want to cause too much trouble for him. Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t screw around in his body, but fuck it. A MAN has needs. And I surely am a really BIG one now.

I set up the photo, maybe revealing a bit too much.

But the messages kept flowing in. I could choose someone! Me! I tried Grindr before, but I guess my blank profile wasn’t exactly popular at the time. Now, everybody wanted to fuck me.

I decided to pick one guy. Hot body, twink, young, not too far and has a car. I texted him the address and waited. I remained just in briefs before he arrived and rang the bell at the front door.

I went to open them. To my surprise, my bully Alex stood there. Alex was shocked just as I was.

Alex:”Oh. I think I have the wrong address. I am so sorry, Mr. Mills.”

I didn’t really want anyone to know about this, but nevermind. There is no going back. “Alex, wait. The address is ok. Come in. I won’t hurt you.” I invited him and asked him to go to the living room.

Even with all of these muscles, I was still just a scared little nerd, that this guy in front of me would beat me up. But this time he acted differently. Oh right, that’s because he’s afraid of Mr. Mills. And now, he went for a hookup and to his surprise his teacher opened the door. I know he’s rethinking whole life right now.

Me:”You want anything to drink, Alex?”

Alex:” Ehm.. ugh… no I, I think I’m ok. Thank you.”

Me:”So Alex. By your profile I suggest you’re a bottom, if you were honest?”

Alex:”Yeah. No. It was just a joke. I have a girlfriend. I should go.”

Me:”Oh come on. I won’t tell anyone. I can be discreet. Only if you can be.”

Alex:”I can.”

Me:”Then there is nothing to worry about. Is it?” I said and leaned in closer. Jesus, it’s my second day of being in my teacher’s body and I was already on my way to sleep with a second student of mine.

We started making out on the couch. Our tongues twisting in our mouths. My hands wrapping around him as I felt his hands travel onto my stomach and my chest. Playing with my new pecs. My dick got hard and it was pretty obvious to Alex, who immediately got his hands on it. 

Me:”You like it?”

Alex nodded and I saw the lust in his eyes.

Me:”Wanna take all of this to the shower?”

I picked him up from the couch and carried him all the way to the bathroom. Turning on the red light and hot water. The combination of these things must have worked, because Alex stripped himself and immediately started worshiping my muscles.

Me:”Call me daddy”

Alex:”I…”

Me:”Call me daddy and tell me what you want from daddy.”

Alex:”I want your… dick. In my mouth… daddy.”

I put my hand on the top of his head and pushed him on his knees, shoving my dick into his mouth. Gently, but still with a bit of a force. I started thrusting as Alex wrapped his lips around the head of my shaft. I pushed so hard that he started gagging. But I could see in his eyes that he was finally happy. I pulled him back up by his hair and arm.

I turned him around and pushed him against the wall.

Me:”Be good for daddy and say that you want me to fuck you.”

Alex:”Fuck me, daddy!”

I squished a bit of lube that I conveniently got ready before, into my hand and put my fingers into his hairy ass. I found the prostate and started going in and out, making him moan out loud.

I pushed in my dick and wrapped my hand around his throat from behind, suffocating him a bit. With my other hand, I helped myself get fully inside and then I pulled his head back by the hair. My thrusts were smooth, but fast. Soon, Alex was screaming and moaning. I made him call me daddy several times after that. And for the first time in my life I shot my load on someone’s face.

Alex left that evening happy and finally satisfied. I asked him again for discretion and went off to sleep.

The next morning started off exactly as our second. We still did not swap back. I picked up Mills and we headed to school. But this time, the principal invited me to his office before the classes started.

He did not look happy.

Principal:”I am truly sorry to tell you this, but I have to let you go.”

Me:”Why? Is it the mother of the student?” I immediately thought that this would be about last night with Alex

Principal:”Look, I told you that you have one last chance. Unfortunately, most of the parents signed a petition to let you go. My hands are tight on this matter.”

Me:”Sir, but you said that all will be forgotten if I…” Principal:”I know what I said. I’m just saying that there is tension right now and it is easier for me to let you go. This petition was started by the González family after you verbally attacked their son during lessons. But many parents signed as well.”

Fuck. Now I was the one who got him fired.

Shit. What do I tell Mr. Mills?

Part 1:

Part 3: coming soon

[benjihm]

[verus-veritas]

Becoming The Perfect Family

(AI-Generated - Story concept by the incredible @kylecrusoe-captions)

Kyle’s life had always been a gray blur. An only child to parents who barely looked up from their phones, he’d grown up starved for connection, his days bleeding into one another in a haze of neglect. Then the Armstrongs moved in next door, and everything changed. They weren’t any ordinary family—they were a force. Loud, physical, unapologetic, they filled the quiet suburban street with their presence. Kyle couldn’t look away. From his bedroom window, he watched them, his chest tight with longing, his mind spinning fantasies he’d never dare voice. They were untouchable he thought, until he found the tome.

It was a fluke, really. Tucked in the back of the college library, behind a row of moldy textbooks, the ancient book practically pulsed under his fingers. Its leather cover was cracked, its pages yellowed and curling, but the words inside promised power: Shape reality. Claim what’s yours. Kyle didn’t believe it at first, but desperation has a way of eroding skepticism. That night, alone in his room, he lit a candle, traced the runes with trembling fingers, and whispered the spell. He didn’t expect it to work. He fell asleep to the sound of his own heartbeat, disappointed... until he woke up somewhere else.

The bed was too small, the air thick with the musky scent of sweat and testosterone. Kyle blinked, disoriented, and then he felt a warm, heavy leg slung over his own. Clive Armstrong—his new younger brother—lay sprawled beside him, his lean, runner’s body barely contained by a pair of tight briefs. His wavy brown hair was a mess, his thin mustache twitching as he snored softly.

Kyle’s breath caught. He was in the Armstrong house, sharing a queen-sized bed with Clive like it was the most natural thing in the world. The room was cramped, cluttered with gym bags and running shoes, a testament to the family’s athletic obsession—and their lack of funds for separate bedrooms. Clive shifted, his bare chest brushing Kyle’s arm, and Kyle realized he was in his underwear too. No awkwardness, no hesitation—just the casual intimacy of brothers. The spell had worked.

Jared Armstrong: The Stoic Patriarch

The father, Jared Armstrong was a man carved from grit and muscle. At forty-five, he didn’t look a day over forty, his frame lean but powerful, honed from years of coaching college athletes into submission. His dark hair was cropped short, his jaw perpetually shadowed with stubble that gave him a rugged, almost dangerous edge. He was the kind of handsome that hit you like a punch—unpolished, raw, and utterly masculine. As the head coach at the local college, he had a reputation for running brutal gym classes, leaving students hobbling away with sore muscles and whispered curses. Cold and intimidating, he carried himself with a quiet authority that made people shrink in his presence. But with his sons, there was a flicker of something softer—a gruff tenderness he’d never admit to.

Kyle’s first morning as an Armstrong started with Jared. He stood in the kitchen, shirtless in a pair of faded sweatpants, barking orders as he blended a protein shake. His biceps flexed with every move, a sheen of sweat already clinging to his chest from an early workout. “Up and at ‘em, Kyle,” he grunted, barely glancing over. “No slackers in this house.” His voice was a low rumble, but there was no malice—just expectation. Kyle nodded mutely, still dazed, and Jared tossed him a banana with a smirk. “Eat. You’re too damn skinny.” It was the closest thing to affection Kyle had ever gotten from a father, and it lit something warm and dangerous in his chest.

Clive Armstrong: The Wild Spark

Clive was chaos in motion. At nineteen, a college freshman, he was the younger of Jared’s sons, and he wore his rebellion like a badge. Lean and toned, his body was built for speed—powerful legs that carried him through endless runs, a smooth chest that glistened with sweat every summer morning. His wavy brown hair fell into his eyes, and that thin mustache on his upper lip gave him a roguish charm. He was mischievous, quick with a smirk or a jab, but his temper was a live wire—explosive and unpredictable. Rumors swirled about him on campus: a passionate lover who’d leave you breathless, but a selfish one who’d sulk if he didn’t get his way. Kyle had seen it firsthand—Clive jogging shirtless around the neighborhood, ignoring Kyle’s timid waves with an annoyed glare.

Now, as his “little brother,” Kyle got the full Clive experience. That first morning, Clive rolled out of bed with a groan, stretching his jockish frame until his spine popped. “Fuck, I hate mornings,” he muttered, scratching his abs as he stumbled to the bathroom. He didn’t care that Kyle was there, didn’t bother to cover up—just strutted around in his briefs like it was nothing. Later, at breakfast, he shoved Kyle’s shoulder playfully, grinning. “You’re eating like a bird, bro. Gotta bulk up if you’re gonna keep up with me.” His touch lingered, his fingers brushing Kyle’s arm, and Kyle felt a jolt he couldn’t explain. Clive was a tease, a spark—and Kyle wanted to get burned.

Benjamin Armstrong: The Silent Storm

Benjamin, at twenty-one, was the eldest, a college senior with a presence that filled every room. Tall and muscular, he wasn’t bulky like a bodybuilder but lean and defined, his frame a testament to years on the basketball court. His intense eyes—dark and unreadable—could pin you in place, and the slight stubble on his cheeks only sharpened his brooding edge. Ambitious and quiet, he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, dismissing anyone he deemed unworthy of his time. But those he cared about? He’d guard them with a ferocity that was almost feral. His athletic fame stretched across state lines—everyone knew Ben Armstrong, the guy who could sink a three-pointer with his eyes closed.

Kyle’s first real encounter with Ben came that afternoon. He was shooting hoops in the driveway, shirtless and focused, his muscles rippling with every move. Kyle hesitated, then stepped outside, and Ben glanced over—those piercing eyes locking onto him. “You just gonna stand there?” he said, voice low and clipped. He tossed Kyle the ball, hard enough to sting. “Shoot.” Kyle fumbled it, and Ben snorted, stepping closer. “Gotta work on that grip, man. You’re an Armstrong—act like it.” There was no warmth, but there was something else—possession. Ben didn’t ignore him anymore. He saw him.

---

For weeks, Kyle soaked it in. The Armstrong house was a whirlwind of testosterone—sweaty gym clothes strewn across the floor, Jared’s gruff lectures about discipline, Clive’s endless energy, Ben’s quiet intensity. Kyle belonged, finally, and it was intoxicating. He’d catch himself staring—Jared curling weights in the garage, his biceps straining; Clive sprinting past the window, abs flexing; Ben toweling off after a shower, water dripping down his chest. They were his family now, but the tome under his mattress whispered a darker desire. He didn’t just want their acceptance. He wanted their love—the kind that crossed every line.

One night, alone in the dim glow of their shared room, Kyle pulled out the tome. Clive was out running, the house quiet. The spell was there, buried in the back: Bind their hearts. Irreversible. The warning loomed large, but Kyle’s hands shook with need. He’d rewritten reality once—what was one more push? He lit the candle, chanted the words, and felt the air hum with power. When he finished, the flame guttered out, and he waited.

The shift was slow, deliciously so. The next morning, Jared’s hand lingered on Kyle’s shoulder as he passed him a plate of eggs. “Looking stronger, kid,” he said, his voice softer, his stubble brushing Kyle’s cheek as he pulled him into a long, sweaty hug. Clive ambushed him later, tackling him onto the couch with a laugh. “Gotcha, bro!” he crowed, pinning Kyle down, his lean body pressing close, his sweaty armpit shoved playfully into Kyle’s face. “Smell that? That’s victory.” His grin was wicked, his touch too firm to be innocent. Ben, meanwhile, waited by the car after class, insisting on driving Kyle home. “Can’t trust you out there alone,” he muttered, his hand grazing Kyle’s thigh as he drove, his eyes flickering with something unspoken.

Day by day, it deepened. Jared took to coaching Kyle in the garage, his hands guiding Kyle’s form, his breath hot against Kyle’s neck. “Good boy,” he’d murmur, and the praise sank into Kyle’s bones. Clive’s roughhousing turned flirty—tickling that lingered on Kyle’s sides, headlocks that pulled their bodies flush. Ben grew obsessive, shadowing Kyle everywhere, hoisting him onto his shoulders after practice with a grip that was too tight, too tender. They were falling for him, their coy glances and casual touches betraying the spell’s work. Kyle had them—father, brothers, all of them—and he wasn’t done yet.

The Morning Fire

The tension between Kyle and Clive had been simmering for days, a slow boil of lingering touches and heated glances. It all came to a head one evening when their usual roughhousing took a turn. Clive had Kyle in a headlock, his lean, sweaty body pressed tight against Kyle’s, his armpit shoved into Kyle’s face as he laughed. “Take it, bro!” he’d teased, but Kyle—caught up in the musk and the heat—flicked his tongue against Clive’s skin, tasting salt and desire. Clive froze, his grip tightening for a split second before he let go, his face flushed, his breath uneven. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and walked away, but the air between them crackled.

The next morning, Kyle woke to a sensation that jolted him from sleep—Clive’s hand, warm and insistent, buried deep in Kyle’s underwear. Fingers curled around him, stroking slow and deliberate, coaxing him awake. Kyle’s eyes fluttered open, groggy, and there was Clive—his wavy brown hair tousled, his thin mustache framing lips inches from Kyle’s own. His face was flushed, his hazel eyes burning with intensity as hot breath fanned across Kyle’s skin. “I want you,” Clive rasped, voice thick with need, before closing the gap. His lips crashed into Kyle’s, hungry and unrestrained, a kiss that was all tongue and heat and perverse promise.

They made out like they were starving for it, hands roaming, bodies tangling in the sheets. Clive rolled Kyle onto his side, pressing up behind him, his jock musk filling the air as he positioned himself. “Gonna take care of you, bro,” he murmured against Kyle’s ear, his voice low and filthy. He entered Kyle slowly, inch by inch, his lean frame molding to Kyle’s back, arms wrapping around him in a possessive hug. The rhythm was sensual, deliberate—Clive’s breaths hitching as he thrust, his lips brushing Kyle’s neck, his cock buried deep. When he finished, he came with a shudder, spilling inside Kyle, kissing his spine as he stayed lodged there, unwilling to pull out. Exhausted and sated, they fell asleep again, entwined in the musky haze of their shared bed.

For the next week, it became their ritual. Every morning, Kyle woke to Clive’s hands or mouth on him, followed by slow, passionate fucking—Clive always the big spoon, always finishing inside, always kissing Kyle’s back as they drifted off again. The bedroom reeked of sweat and sex, an erotic sanctuary for their newfound bond.

The Steamy Afternoon

Benjamin noticed the change almost immediately. His younger brothers were different—closer, more tactile, their mornings stretching longer behind that closed bedroom door. He’d hear the muffled laughter, the creak of the bed, and it gnawed at him. Envy twisted in his gut. Kyle was his brother too, and Ben wasn’t about to be left out. He started claiming Kyle’s time during the day, dragging him to the basketball court five times a week. “Gotta toughen you up,” he’d say, his intense eyes raking over Kyle’s exhausted form. Kyle didn’t mind—Ben’s presence, all towering muscle and quiet intensity, was its own kind of drug.

One afternoon, after a grueling session, they stumbled into the house, drenched in sweat. Ben peeled off his shirt, revealing a torso carved from marble, and nodded toward the bathroom. “Shower time. But, uh, heater’s busted—only enough hot water for one.” It was a lie, and they both knew it, but Kyle didn’t argue. “We’ll share,” Ben said, casual as anything. “No big deal, right? We’re brothers.” The bathroom filled with steam, their wet bodies brushing as they stepped under the spray. Ben scrubbed Kyle’s back, his hands lingering, sliding lower than necessary, and Kyle returned the favor, tracing the lines of Ben’s muscled shoulders. The air thickened, their breaths syncing, until they were both hard, cocks straining against the heat.

Ben turned, water dripping from his stubble, his eyes dark with something raw. “I love you, lil bro,” he said, voice barely audible over the spray. Then, softer: “Need a favor.” Kyle didn’t hesitate. He sank to his knees, the tiles biting into his skin, and took Ben’s engorged cock into his mouth—thick, pulsing, tasting of sweat and salt. Ben groaned, hands fisting in Kyle’s hair, guiding him deeper.

They didn’t stop there. The afternoon bled into hours in Ben’s room, locked in a feverish 69—Kyle’s mouth on Ben, Ben’s on Kyle, sucking and licking until they were both spent, throats raw and bodies trembling.

The Ultimate Weekend

It was a lazy Saturday morning when it all collided. Ben slipped into the younger brothers’ room, intent on dragging Kyle out for an early shootaround, only to freeze in the doorway. There they were—Kyle and Clive, naked and tangled, lips locked in a sloppy, passionate kiss. Clive’s hands roamed Kyle’s body, possessive and greedy, and Kyle moaned into it, arching against him. Ben’s jaw tightened, envy flaring into rage. “What the fuck?” he snapped, storming in. Clive pulled back, smirking, but his eyes were defiant. “He’s mine, Ben. Back off.”

“Yours?” Ben scoffed, stepping closer. “I’ve been fucking him too, asshole.” The room erupted—shouting, shoving, a messy tangle of jealousy and testosterone. Kyle, caught between them, tried to mediate, but they weren’t listening. Finally, Clive growled, “Fine. Let’s settle it—whoever makes him cum hardest wins.” Ben nodded, grim and determined, but they couldn’t agree on turns. “Fuck it,” Ben said, stripping down. “We’ll do it together.”

What followed was a blur of heat and flesh. Kyle found himself sandwiched on the bed—Clive behind him, thrusting into his ass with that slow, possessive rhythm, while Ben knelt in front, feeding Kyle his thick cock, hands gripping his head. Kyle gagged and moaned, lost in the dual assault, their sweaty jock bodies pinning him in place. They were relentless, each trying to outdo the other, forcing him toward climax.

Then the door creaked open. Jared stood there, a tray of pancakes and coffee in hand, his plan to surprise Kyle with breakfast in bed crumbling at the sight. Clive and Ben froze, mid-thrust, panic flashing across their faces. “Dad, we can explain—” Clive started, but Jared cut him off, his voice a low growl. 

“You little shits didn’t think to invite me?” He set the tray down, and Kyle noticed the bulge in his pocket—a stack of condom wrappers he’d tried to hide. His intentions had been less innocent than pancakes.

Jared stripped, revealing a body that put every dad in town to shame—hairy, muscular, a coach’s physique built from years of discipline. At school, he was a tyrant, but here, with his sons, he was different—gentle, submissive, eager to please. “I’ve got experience,” he said, voice rough with lust. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

The room descended into chaos—a perverse fuckfest. Clive resumed pounding Kyle’s ass, Ben fucked his throat, and Jared dropped to his knees, devouring Kyle’s cock with a hunger that bordered on worship. His tongue worked expertly, sucking and slurping, while his sons ravaged Kyle from both ends.

Hours passed in a haze of sweat and moans. Kyle came again and again—first from Clive’s relentless thrusts, then Ben’s brutal pace down his throat, and finally Jared’s insatiable mouth, draining him dry. When they finished, well past noon, Kyle collapsed on the musky bed, sore and blissed out. Ben snuggled close, nuzzling his neck, while across the room, Clive bent Jared over the edge of the bed, fucking him with the same passion he’d given Kyle. Jared took it eagerly, groaning his sons’ names.

Kyle lay there, surrounded by their heat, their love, their twisted devotion. Two jock brothers and a coach dad, all his—family and lovers in one. The tome had given him everything, and as he drifted off, drained and overjoyed, he knew he’d found his perfect place in the world.

---

The Final Night

Kyle had everything he’d ever dreamed of—two jock brothers and a coach dad, their bodies and hearts bent to his will by the tome’s magic. But as the days wore on, a gnawing discontent settled in his bones. He’d crafted a perfect family, a perverse paradise of love and lust, but when he caught his reflection in the mirror—scrawny, unremarkable, a shadow next to the Armstrongs’ chiseled glory—it soured everything. He wasn’t one of them, not really. Not in the way he wanted to be. The tome, still hidden under his mattress, hummed with its final offer. Three spells per human, it had warned, before it would vanish forever. He’d used two—reality bending, heart binding. One remained.

Late one night, while Clive slept beside him, Kyle pulled the tome free. Its pages rustled as if alive, guiding him to a spell buried in the back: Soul Possession. The words were stark, immoral, promising to let him claim another’s body, their identity, their life—erasing them to make room for him. His eyes drifted to Clive, sprawled out in the dim moonlight, his toned runner’s body glistening with a sheen of sweat, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Clive’s jock perfection, his promising future as a track star, his effortless charisma—it was everything Kyle craved. Losing Clive as a lover stung, but taking his place? That was worth it.

He lit the candle, traced the runes, and whispered the incantation, his voice trembling with greed. The air grew heavy, but nothing happened. Disappointed, he crawled back into bed, pressing himself against Clive’s warm frame, and drifted off. It wasn’t until the dead of night that the spell ignited.

Kyle woke—or thought he did—to a sensation of weightlessness. His body shimmered, losing form, dissolving into a pulsing cloud of pure energy. He hovered, disembodied, above the bed, staring down at Clive’s sleeping form. Then, slowly, deliberately, he began to flow. Tendrils of his essence slithered downward, seeking entry. They slipped into Clive’s mouth, curling around his tongue, tasting the musk of his breath. They poured into his nose, filling his lungs, and wormed into his ears, threading through the delicate canals. Lower, they ventured—sliding under the waistband of Clive’s briefs, seeping into his cock, hardening it as they invaded, and creeping into his asshole, stretching and filling him with a perverse intimacy.

The process was slow, sensual, a violation so deep it bordered on ecstasy. Inside Clive, Kyle’s energy spread, weaving through every blood vessel, every nerve, a warm, electric tide. He pushed deeper, seeking Clive’s core, his soul, his essence, and found it; a bright flickering spark. Kyle enveloped it, forcing himself inside, fusing with it until there was no separation. Clive’s knowledge flooded him—every race he’d run, every lover he’d taken, every rebellious outburst. His dreams, his aspirations, his thoughts. They were Kyle’s now, absorbed and owned.

On the bed, Clive’s body rebelled. His lean frame seized, muscles twitching violently, his head thrashing against the pillow. Sweat poured from him, soaking the sheets, his jock musk thickening the air as his limbs flailed. His cock strained against his briefs, leaking, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Then, with a final shudder the new core snapped into place. Kyle’s essence fully merged and Clive’s body stilled, limp and glistening in the moonlight.

Morning broke, and the new Clive woke. He stretched, relishing the taut power of his legs, the flex of his abs, the weight of his cock in his briefs. He slipped out of bed, leaving the damp sheets behind, and padded to the bathroom. The mirror greeted him with Clive’s face, and he stopped, breath catching. This was his now. Every detail, every curve, and he intended to savor it.

He leaned closer, hands trembling as they rose to his head. His fingers tugged at the wavy brown hair, thick and soft, pulling gently to feel the roots stretch against his scalp. It was wild, untamed, a runner’s mane, and he let it fall back into place, a slow smile spreading. His gaze dropped to the thin mustache framing his upper lip. He caressed it with his thumb, tracing its coarse texture, the bristles prickling his skin. It was Clive’s signature—roguish, bold—and he pressed harder, feeling the shape of his mouth beneath it. His tongue darted out, thicker than he remembered, heavy and warm as he ran it along his lips, tasting the faint salt of sweat. He pushed it further, curling it against the mustache, playing with its heft, a perverse thrill building in his gut.

He raised an arm, flexing the lean muscle, and buried his face in the pit. Clive’s jock musk hit him—sharp, earthy, a heady mix of sweat and testosterone that made his head swim. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs, his cock twitching in his briefs as the scent consumed him. With Clive’s vocal cords, he spoke, voice thick and resonant, a rumble that vibrated through his chest: “I love myself.” The words hung in the air, a declaration of ownership, and he groaned, the sound raw and primal.

Memories flickered—Ben in the shower, water slicking his chiseled frame, their bodies pressed tight, then locked in a 69 on Ben’s bed, sucking each other dry. Jared bursting in with breakfast, only to strip and beg Clive to fuck him, his hairy ass clenching around every thrust. The reality he’d crafted had followed him, woven into this new life. The sight of Clive’s face staring back, the musk, the voice, the memories—it was too much. His hand brushed his briefs, and he came hard, a hot, shuddering release that soaked the fabric, his knees buckling as he gripped the sink. He panted, watching the flush spread across Clive’s cheeks in the mirror. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to know more, to feel more.

He stood there, panting, and let Clive’s memories unspool in his mind, a torrent of sensation and sin. Clive jerking off in the shower for the first time, marveling at the power of his own body, the water slicking his lean frame as he came against the tiles. A summer night, lying shirtless on the roof with a boy from track, his hands on Clive’s abs, his mustache brushing the boy’s neck as he whispered filthy promises he’d never keep. And the dreams—Clive’s aspirations to go pro, to feel the wind on his face as he broke records, to fuck his way through every city he’d race in, leaving a trail of spent lovers behind. Every memory was vivid, visceral, a tapestry of sweat, sex, and defiance, and Kyle drank it all in, his cock throbbing anew as he claimed it as his own.

Clive—once Kyle, stepped out of the bathroom, his briefs still damp from his spontaneous release. The mirror had been a revelation, a slow dance of self-discovery that left him trembling with power and lust, but it wasn’t enough. His new flesh hummed with potential, every nerve alight with Clive’s vitality, and he craved more. He padded back to the bedroom, the air thick with the musk of sweat and sex that clung to the sheets from nights of passion with his former self. The tome was gone, its third spell spent, but its legacy pulsed in his veins. This was his now—every inch, every scent, every shudder—and he intended to claim it fully.

The bed loomed before him, a tangled mess of stained fabric and jock stench, a testament to Clive’s athletic life and their shared mornings of perverse love. He crawled onto it, knees sinking into the mattress, and pressed his face into the pillow where Clive’s head had rested hours before. The smell hit him—sharp, tangy, a heady mix of sweat and testosterone that made his cock twitch anew. He groaned, low and guttural, and dragged his tongue across the fabric, tasting the salt of Clive’s essence, now his own. His hands roamed his new body, tracing the lean muscles of his chest, the taut ridges of his abs, and he marveled at the power beneath his skin—runner’s legs, a sprinter’s core, all his to command.

He flipped onto his back, briefs straining as his arousal grew, and raised an arm high. Burying his nose in his pit, he took a long, drawn-out whiff, savoring the jock musk that rolled off him in waves—raw, earthy, intoxicating. It was Clive’s scent, distilled and potent, and he inhaled again, deeper, letting it flood his lungs until his head spun. “Fuck, I love this body,” he rasped, Clive’s thick voice rumbling through his chest, a sound that vibrated with ownership. His hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against the bed, the friction sending sparks up his spine. He needed more—needed to feel this body break under his will.

He rolled onto his stomach, straddling the mattress, and began to hump it slow and deliberate. The sheets rubbed against his cock through the briefs, rough and teasing, as he thrust his hips, imagining every race Clive had run, every lover he’d fucked, every moment of this body’s life now his to relive. His breaths came in pants, hot and heavy, as he picked up the pace, grinding harder, the bed creaking beneath him. He lifted his ass high, thrusting into the air, muscles flexing—calves tight, thighs quivering, abs clenching—as he chased the edge. One hand gripped his hair, tugging at the wavy strands, while the other slid to his mustache, caressing it, feeling its bristles against his fingertips. His tongue lolled out, thicker and wet, licking at the air as if he could taste his own musk.

The pressure built, a molten coil in his gut, and he raised his arm again, shoving his face into his pit for one last, obscene sniff. The musk overwhelmed him, a primal trigger, and he lost it. With a guttural shout—“Fuck, yes! I’m Clive!”—he came, an explosive climax that tore through him. Jock semen erupted from his cock, thick ropes shooting out, splattering across his chest, the sheets, and—impossibly—arcing high enough to hit the ceiling in wet, dripping streaks. His body convulsed, hips jerking, as he rode the waves, smearing the mess across his abs with every shudder. The room reeked of cum and sweat, a shrine to his new identity, and he collapsed, panting, a grin splitting his face.

The door creaked open. His brother Ben and father Jared stood there, framed in the entrance, their faces frozen in shock and streaked with splatters of Clive’s cum. A dollop clung to Ben’s stubble, another dripped from Jared’s eyebrow. For a moment, silence hung heavy, then Ben swiped a finger through the mess on his cheek, bringing it to his lips. He licked it clean, slow and deliberate, a wicked smile curling his mouth. Jared followed, wiping the cum from his face and sucking it off his thumb, his eyes darkening with hunger. “Fuck, Clive,” Ben growled, voice thick with lust. “You’re a goddamn mess.”

They barged in, shedding clothes as they went—Ben’s basketball shorts hitting the floor, Jared’s sweatpants pooling at his ankles—revealing their muscular, sweat-slicked bodies. Clive, still sprawled on the bed, cock half-hard and glistening, didn’t resist. Ben dove first, pinning Clive’s wrists above his head, his tongue lapping at the cum on Clive’s chest, while Jared knelt between his legs, hairy coach frame looming as he took Clive’s cock into his mouth, sucking with a submissive fervor that belied his brash exterior. “My favorite son,” Jared mumbled around him, voice muffled, and Ben chuckled, nipping at Clive’s neck. “Favorite brother, too.”

Clive groaned, head tipping back, as they ravaged him—Ben’s hands roaming his pits, inhaling deeply, Jared’s throat working him with expert care. Round two stretched into a blur of flesh and moans, their twisted love consuming the room. Clive didn’t mind—couldn’t mind. This was the final ending he’d hoped for all along: The tome was gone, but Clive Armstrong was his, body and soul, and his family’s insatiable devotion sealed the deal. The bed creaked, the air stank of jock musk and cum, and as he came again, spilling into Jared’s eager mouth, he knew he’d never want for anything else.

[captainmalewriter]

Crown Legend

Alex Gonzalez lived by one motto in life: work hard, play hard. Those four short words were all the young Latino needed to motivate himself every morning before work. Working in construction was no walk in the park, but it paid good money, and money was Alex’s second favorite thing in life (the first being women, of course). 

The clock struck 6PM that Friday evening. As always, Alex was the first one to clock out and leave. 

There was going to be a huge party at La Rana Mojada tonight. Alex knew he just needed to be there. He drove back to his apartment in record time and ran inside with great excitement, only to go into a coughing fit due to a strong smell assaulting his nose as soon as he walked in. The cause of the smell stood a few feet away from him in the form of his roommate Rico, who was already dressed to the 9s and ready to head out. 

“Aye pa, what the fuck is that smell?” Alex said. Rico grinned before responding. 

“It’s this new cologne that just hit the markets. Crown Legend. Shit’s expensive as fuck but I was able to snatch one up before they sold out again. Smells good, huh,”

“Yeah it smells alright but fuck man it’s too strong!!”

“You think so? I haven’t noticed, but hey, the bitches go crazy for Crown Legend! Check it, these two blonde chicks were all over me after they caught a whiff of me!”

Rico whipped his phone out and showed Alex photographic proof. The women surrounding Rico in the photos were gorgeous, with their glossy lips and massive racks. Alex couldn’t lie; he was impressed by his roommate’s game, maybe even a little bit envious too. 

“So wassup, you’re coming to La Rana tonight right?” Rico asked.

“Yeah man. I just gotta get ready first. I’ll catch you down there, save me a shot alright.” 

The two men dapped each other up and went their separate ways. Alex showered and then went to his room to get dressed for the night. 

Alex couldn’t stop thinking about Crown Legend as he got ready. The cologne’s overwhelming scent made him dislike it. But despite its strength, it did smell pretty damn good. Plus, Alex couldn’t deny the success it brought with the ladies. The cologne already helped his roommate pull a couple of bad bitches. If it helped Rico, surely it would help him too. 

As that last thought crossed his mind, Alex found himself unconsciously walking over to Rico’s room. He grabbed the blue bottle from the top of his dresser. Even from just the feel of the sleek bottle in his hand, Alex could tell it was very high-quality cologne. No doubt Rico spent a lot of money just to buy it…

Alex decided to give himself a quick spritz on his wrists. He went in for a quick sniff, only to go back for a deeper sniff once the scent filled his nose. The cologne had a luxurious scent that smelled of aged oud coupled with amber resin and a touch of citrus. All he needed was to get over the initial shock of how strong it was to realize how great it smelled. Alex wasn’t sure what got into him; he just couldn’t get enough of it! 

Then, against his better judgment, he showered himself in Crown Legend. He sprayed it all over his neck, chest, and arms, only stopping once he was fully doused in the expensive cologne. Once he was satisfied, Alex put back the cologne bottle and returned to his room like nothing happened. He finished getting ready and then left for La Rana.

The party was already in full swing by the time Alex had arrived. Heads were turning the moment he walked in, though that was mostly because of the obscene amount of cologne he was wearing. Alex loved all the attention regardless. He walked over to the bar with a haughty strut, downed two shots of tequila like it was water, and proceeded to flirt with any woman who caught his eye. By the end of the hour, he was out on the dance floor with a beautiful, busty brunette as his dancing partner. Alex almost couldn’t believe how quickly he scored that night. His success cleared the last bit of doubt in his mind. Crown Legend was a game-changer!

As Alex danced and drank the night away, he began to notice something strange happening to him. Even though he was surrounded by some of the hottest women he had ever seen, he found himself eyeing some of the men in the club. He quickly corrected his line of sight back to a woman every time he caught himself checking out some dude. Yet despite his efforts, Alex just couldn’t resist the male eye candy all around him. Alex licked his lips as he watched with hungry eyes various men swaying their hips to the rhythm of the music, their skin glistening with sweat underneath the strobing club lights. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get close to one of those men and—

“What the fuck’s going on with me…” Alex held a hand to his temples. The music was way too loud all of a sudden. The lights too bright. Desperate to escape the over-stimulating environment, he rushed to the bathroom and ran inside an empty stall. As he tried catching his breath, Alex noticed how hot he was. His clothes were clinging to his body with how sweaty he was. He decided to strip down to just his underwear to cool down, hoping it would help whatever was going on inside his mind and body. 

Alex sighed. As he leaned against the bathroom wall, a certain moist sound coming from the neighboring stall perked up his ears. Like most men, Alex almost immediately recognized the fapping sound. He turned and saw some guy’s pants hanging around his hairy ankles. There was also a sizable hole covered up with toilet paper in the divider separating the two stalls. He must’ve missed these details due to how fast he ran in. Coupled with the stifled groan the guy just let out, it became all too clear what was going on. 

Normally, Alex would’ve been disgusted by what he was witnessing, but that wasn’t the case this time. Instead, he listened to the sensual sounds of some guy stroking his cock like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. There was something exciting about meeting another man in a public bathroom. Alex could feel how fast his heart beat as he massaged his nipple, letting out a small grunt with every pinch he gave himself. The man groaned a little bit louder in response, encouraging Alex to join in on the fun. And so he did. 

He took a step forward. His socks were now visible to whoever was in the other stall. A moment passed without either of them saying or doing anything else. Then, the man took the rolled-up paper out of the hole and leaned in, giving Alex a clear sight of both his lips and the bushy facial hair he had. The sight of another man’s mouth, ready and eager to please, pushed Alex over the edge. Before he knew it, a massive tent had already formed in his underwear. No longer able to hold back, Alex took off the last piece of clothes he had on and slipped his hard member into the hole. The man took him inside his mouth and began sucking away on his sensitive tip.

“Ugh? Oooohhhh…”

Alex threw his arms behind his head as the pleasure from the man working his way down his meat overtook him. He titled his head into his hairy armpit and sniffed it. The mix of his own body musk combined with Crown Legend was delightfully intoxicating, causing him to let out an obscene moan with every whiff. 

The man had a warm, wet mouth and he knew how to keep a firm grip with his lips. The man took his time too, making sure to give every inch of Alex’s dick some attention before eventually taking Alex’s entire length down his throat. It drove Alex crazy every time the man’s thick mustache brushed against his own bush. He was moaning like a madman, pressing his hips against the stall divider, desperate to get his cock even deeper into the man’s throat.

“Arggg… Fuckkkk…” 

It surprised Alex how much he enjoyed getting serviced by another guy. He was no stranger to getting head. He had received more blowjobs than he could even count! Yet this random, unnamed stranger was quickly on his way to taking the number one spot! 

His.

“No… NO! STOP IT!” 

Alex jumped away from the glory hole and rushed to get his clothes back on. The man yelped with surprise at how abruptly Alex had ended it. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“NO! I ain’t gay!!”

“Are you sure? It seemed like you were really enjoying it—”

“Man, FUCK you!” 

Alex threw his shirt on, then bolted out of there. He forced his way through the crowd of drunk people, only stopping when he finally got back to his car. He got in, drove as fast as he could back to his apartment, and hopped in the shower to wash everything off. Alex stood in the spray of warm water completely dumbfounded. He had been attracted to women and only women his entire life! The way he acted was just so… out of character for him. No matter how much he thought about it, he just couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly so attracted to men. 

“Whatever. I’m never doing that gay shit again…” Alex swore to himself as he dried off with a towel. With only his underwear on, Alex stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway— where his roommate Rico was standing shirtless and still semi-drunk. 

“Heyyy there… SEXY motherfuckaa…” Rico slurred his words as he spoke. Alex felt his nose twitch. There was a smell lingering in the air. Alex closed his eyes and focused on his sense of smell as he inhaled deeply. He could vividly smell the alcohol on Rico’s breath along with his sweaty body odor after a night of dancing, but there was another scent too. It was one Alex had become all too familiar with. 

Crown Legend. 

Alex took another deep sniff of the air, letting the cologne reignite his homoerotic desires, then let out a satisfied sigh. Rico smelled good, and Alex needed to get closer to him. 

Alex closed the distance between Rico and himself and planted a firm kiss on his roommate’s lips. Rico kissed him right back. Their boorish grunts and deep groans filled the tiny apartment hallway as they made out like they were angry at each other. Alex pulled away to start licking and kissing his way down Rico’s body, beginning with the crane of his neck and only stopping once he was on his knees with Rico’s big, brown cock in his face. 

“Nuuughhhh fuck yeah…” they groaned in unison. 

Alex was experiencing sensory ecstasy. The sensual sounds of pleasuring another man with his mouth. The strong smell of Rico’s musk combined with the strong cologne. The feeling of another man’s cock filling up his mouth with every thrust. And finally, the salty, warm taste of swallowing his first-ever load as he drained Rico’s balls with his throat. Alex was red in the face and drenched with sweat by the time they finished. Hooking up with another dude was a pleasure unlike any other Alex had experienced, and it left him hungry for more.

“Hey, it’s only midnight,” Rico started. “We can still head out and fuck around some more. You down?” 

“Fuck yeah I am, lemme go get dressed and let’s go!!” Alex replied. As he got up, Rico grabbed the bottle of Crown Legend from his room and looked at Alex with a devilish grin.

“Want another hit before we head out?” Rico swirled the bottle, causing the liquid fragrance inside to slosh around. Alex hesitated at first but quickly agreed when he remembered just how good Crown Legend smelled. The cologne had completely reworked his cognition from how much he had been exposed to it.

“Yeah, sure, just another little spritz or two wouldn’t hurt…”

[marcusspace]

Brotherly Swap part 2

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of confusion and excitement for Tim. He took Brad's place at school, basking in the attention and adoration that came with being the star quarterback. He strutted through the halls with Brad's cocky swagger, his newfound muscles and height turning heads and opening doors. But with every step, he felt a pang of guilt, knowing that Brad was stuck in his nerdy body, enduring the torments of high school that Tim had once known all too well.

But every time he looked in the mirror, the guilt receded, replaced by a growing sense of entitlement. This body was his now, and he had every intention of making the most of it. The first order of business was to break up with Brad's girlfriend, Rachel. She had been clinging to him like a barnacle, and Tim knew she was just a status symbol for Brad. So, he called her up, his voice a smooth blend of Brad's charm and Tim's tact, and ended things as gently as he could manage. Rachel was devastated, but Tim felt a strange sense of liberation.

With Rachel out of the picture, Tim threw himself into the jock lifestyle. He started making lewd comments in the locker room, playing it off as brotherly banter. The other guys didn't seem to suspect a thing—they just laughed and slapped him on the back, their eyes lingering on Brad's now-his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. He liked the way they looked at him, the way they talked to him, the way they touched him. It was intoxicating.

In the showers after practice, Tim would watch the water cascade over his new body, tracing the lines of muscle and power that Brad had never appreciated. He'd catch glances from his teammates, especially from Josh, the tight end with the piercing blue eyes and the body of a Greek god. Josh had always been friendly, but now there was something more, a heat in his gaze that made Tim's heart race.

"Dude, your ass is looking tight today," Tim called out one day, his voice still unfamiliar in Brad's deep timbre. The locker room erupted in laughter and good-natured ribbing, but there was an unmistakable flicker in Josh's eyes that told Tim he had struck a nerve. He turned around, giving a cheeky wink over his shoulder before rinsing off. The tension in the air was thick with unspoken desires.

After the shower, as the guys toweled off and slapped each other's backs, Tim found himself drawn to the tight end's locker. The sight of Josh's water-slicked body was a feast for the eyes, and Tim couldn't resist the urge to let his gaze linger on the bulge between his legs. The glances grew more frequent, the tension palpable, until one day, Tim leaned in close as they both reached for their towels. "You know, I've always wondered," he whispered, "what it would be like to touch someone... like you."

The words hung in the air, the locker room suddenly feeling much quieter than it had moments before. Josh stiffened, his eyes meeting Tim's, now filled with a mix of shock and something else—desire. Tim felt a thrill run through him, the power of his new body coursing through his veins. He had Brad's charm and Brad's body, and he was going to use it.

They agreed to meet at a secluded spot by the football field after school, where they could be alone. Tim, now Brad, felt his heart racing as he approached, his body thrumming with excitement. He had never been with a guy before, but the fantasies had been enough to keep him company through many a lonely night. And now, here was Josh, the object of so many of those fantasies, looking at him with a hungry gaze.

"What's up, Brad?" Josh asked, his voice low and gruff.

Tim, now Brad, smirked, his hand casually resting on the locker. "Just wondering if you're free after practice," he said, his eyes lingering on Josh's bare chest.

Josh's gaze flickered with curiosity. "Yeah, I guess," he said, his voice a low rumble. "What did you have in mind?"

Tim's heart pounded in Brad's chest. This was it—his chance to live out the fantasies he had never dared to speak. "I want to show you something," he said, his voice a seductive drawl that seemed to come so naturally in this body. He led Josh out to the football field, the setting sun casting long shadows across the grass.

They sat down on the bench, the cool metal sending a shiver through Tim's new body. He could feel Brad's nerves, but Tim's mind was racing with excitement. He leaned in close, their legs brushing together, and whispered, "You know how everyone thinks Brad's straight?"

Josh's eyes narrowed, a hint of suspicion creeping into his features. "Yeah," he said, his voice tight. "What about it?"

Tim, now Brad, took a deep breath, his heart hammering against Brad's ribcage. "Well," he began, his voice a low murmur, "What if I told you Brad's not so straight after all?"

Josh's eyes widened, his gaze dropping to Tim's crotch, where Brad's cock was starting to stir. "What are you saying?"

Tim leaned in closer, his hand brushing against Josh's thigh. "I'm saying," he murmured, "that I want to know what it's like to be with you." He watched the other boy's expression shift from shock to something darker, something more primal. "I want to explore... everything."

Josh's eyes searched Brad's face, looking for any sign of a joke or a trick. But Tim's gaze remained steady, filled with a hunger that was undeniably real. "You're fucking with me," Josh said, his voice strained.

Tim, now Brad, shook his head, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Why would I do that?"

Josh's heart thudded in his chest, his eyes searching Tim's—face for any hint of deceit. "You've always talked shit about gay guys," he said, his voice tight with tension. "Why the sudden change?"

Tim, now in Brad's body, leaned back, his smirk never wavering. "Maybe I realized I've been missing out," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air around them. "Maybe I've been watching you, and I can't help but want to know what it's like."

Josh's eyes searched Tim's, looking for any hint of a lie. But all he saw was desire, raw and unbridled. He swallowed hard, his own cock straining against his sweatpants. "Why me?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tim leaned in even closer, his breath hot against Josh's neck. "Because you're the only one I've ever wanted," he murmured, his hand sliding down his pants. "I've seen the way you look at me—I know you feel it too. Should we take this back to my house?"

In Brad’s room, surrounded by objects from Brad’s life. There sits Josh and Tim. With trembling hands, Tim unzipped Brad's pants, revealing his stepbrother's cock. It was already hard, the tip glistening with precum. Josh stared at it, his own cock throbbing in response. He knew he shouldn't—Brad was his best friend, his teammate—but he couldn't help the need that was building inside him. He reached out, tentatively touching Brad's shaft. Tim's eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure, and he let out a moan in Brad’s booming voice.

Tim's hand guided Josh's, showing him how Brad liked to be touched. The sensation was overwhelming—his own hand on another man's cock, his own body responding with a hunger he had never felt before. They began to kiss, clumsily at first, as Tim tried to navigate the unfamiliar sensations. But soon, they found a rhythm, Brad's tongue dancing with Tim's, his teeth grazing Tim's lower lip.

Josh's hand was rough on Brad's cock, just like Tim had always imagined it would be. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through his body, making him gasp into the kiss. He broke away, panting, and whispered, "Worship me," his voice a plea. "Worship my body."

Without hesitation, Josh leaned down, his mouth closing around Brad's cock. Tim's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt the wet heat envelop him, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. He threw his head back, his hips bucking upwards as Brad's name left his lips in a strangled moan. It was all so wrong, but it felt so right.

Josh took Brad's cock in hand, his tongue swirling around the tip, teasing and taunting. Tim's eyes watched in the mirror, his own hand reaching up to cup Brad's hairy armpit. The sensation was indescribable—the roughness of the hair, the smell of sweat and musk, it was intoxicating. He never knew he had such a kink, but now that he had Brad's body, he was discovering new desires he never knew existed.

"Suck me," Tim urged, his voice Brad's but filled with a need that was entirely his own. Josh looked up, his eyes hooded with lust, and took Brad's length into his mouth. Tim felt the wet warmth, the pressure of those perfect lips, and it was all he could do not to come right then and there. He bit back a moan, his eyes sliding shut as Brad's body responded to the sensations.

Josh's hand pumped the base of Brad's cock as he took him deeper, his tongue playing over the sensitive flesh. Tim could feel his orgasm building, a tight coil of pleasure in his belly that was so intense it was almost painful. He reached down to touch himself, his hand finding Brad's balls, rolling them gently. The sensation was exquisite, his body singing with the promise of release.

Tim leaned back, his eyes still locked on the mirror. He watched as Brad's body writhed in pleasure. And then, just as he felt the orgasm cresting, he heard it—Josh's voice, raw and needy, calling out Brad's name. The sound sent Tim over the edge, and he came with a roar, sending ropes of hot cum into the Josh's eager mouth. Brad’s alpha cum. Josh swallowed it all like the needy slut he is, why wouldn’t he want to taste every drop of juice from Brad’s perfect cock.

As the pleasure subsided, Tim's eyes snapped open, his gaze falling to the doorway. There was Brad, his eyes wide with horror, his hand clutching at his own tiny erection as he stared at the scene before him. Tim couldn't help but laugh—the tables had turned, and now it was Brad's turn to watch.

"You liked that, didn't you?" Tim taunted, his voice still deep and filled with Brad's confidence. "I always knew you had a thing for guys."

Brad's eyes, now looking out from Tim's face, were a mix of anger and confusion. "What the fuck did you do to me?" he whispered, his voice high-pitched and unsteady.

Tim, still in Brad's body, just smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh, come on," he said, his voice deep and teasing. "You're telling me you've never thought about it?"

Brad's mind was racing, his body trembling with a mix of anger and arousal that he didn't know how to process. His cheeks red with embarrassment, he began to storm back to Tim’s room in anger.

[misctf]

The Wrong Number

Kyle grins as he snaps a post-workout selfie, quickly sending it to the chick he met at the bar the night prior. His grin widens as he sits naked on his bed, thinking about her. He could still feel her lips against his, the way her hands roamed his body. He could still hear her moans. And as his thoughts continue, he absentmindedly strokes his hardening dick.

“Fuck...” He mumbles.

Probably one of the best hook-ups he had in a long-time. And he couldn’t wait for part two.

“Hey babe, you around tonight? Ready for round 2?”

He stares at his phone, awaiting Stacy’s... no Brittany’s... no... He chuckles as he realizes he doesn’t even remember her name. But did it matter? He’d make an effort to learn it tonight- he wasn’t the least bit concerned she would turn him down. Especially with that selfie he sent. His muscles bulging, dusted perfectly with manly hairs. Yeah- totally irresistible.

“Come on.” He whispers as he sees she’s writing a response.

His heart sinks when he receives her response- a selfie. And it is not a selfie of the blond, double-D, bombshell he bagged last night. No, this was a dude. A buff, cocky dude. Kyle feels his dick soften as his own cocky grin shifts to a frown.

“Hey there cutie.” The message underneath the selfie reads.

“Sorry, wrong number.” Kyle replies quickly.

A fake number? Really? Kyle felt pissed. Did she really give him a fake number? And who the fuck was this guy? And why did he call him ‘cutie’? Kyle groans as he realizes he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Her loss, he figured. The young man started to stand up, but his phone buzzed again. It was that guy.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Lol, sorry bro. Chick gave me the wrong number.” Kyle replies, “Women, right? Lol.”

Based on the selfie, Kyle figured the guy frequented the gym. Maybe they’d have some stuff in common. And part of Kyle felt maybe he could commiserate with a fellow bro. But his thoughts slow as he stares at the pic. Drinking in each detail and contour of the man’s body. The guy’s massive, juicy pecs taking up most of the selfie. And Kyle absentmindedly wonders what they feel like. And as he scratches his chest, he does not register his chest hairs falling away, leaving him cleanshaven and smooth.

“Wouldn’t know, cutie.” The man replies, “Thought you’d know that after last night lol.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow- his thoughts speeding back up. What did this guy... ohhhhhh... Now he knew. Kyle feels rage build up at the realization. Was this guy flirting with him? First he gets a wrong number, now some gay guy is trying to make a move? Just his luck...

“Don’t swing that way, bro.” Kyle replies.

Kyle went to block the number, but something causes him to stop. What did the guy mean ‘after last night?’ Kyle knew he hooked up with a chick. And two, Kyle wasn’t gay. He’d never... Kyle shifts uncomfortably as his his wide frame and proud muscles begin to decay. The increasingly slender young man barely registering his shifting frame.

“You sure? Could’ve fooled me.”

Kyle bit his lip, “What’re you talking about?” He types with his increasingly more dainty and feminine hands. His thick callouses from his workouts smoothing over and becoming soft.

“Did I fuck your brains out or something, cutie?”

Kyle shifts uncomfortably as his ass swells, filling with squeezable fat. An ass no gay man would be able to resist.

“OMG please stop.” Kyle texts back, “Like, I don’t even know who you are.” He stares at the messages he just sent, part of him registering that something was off with his word choices.

“What about now?”

Kyle gasped at the selfie the man set. His perfectly chiseled muscles and exposed pits causing him to blush. A thought crosses his mind- he would want nothing more than to be laying on that man’s chest. To thrust his nose into those dark, musky forests. And as he thinks of more things he’d want this man to do to him, he strokes his dick. Up and down, up and down. Not even registering that his prided manhood was getting smaller. And smaller. And smaller yet. Settling on a measly three inches hard.

“Like, no... something’s like totes...”

Kyle moans as the pleasure from stroking his dick suddenly intensifies tenfold. And then begins to dwindle, only to return. But he realizes it’s no longer his dick that brings him pleasure. No, it’s his ass. His hole clenching desperately for something to fill it. His mind racing with the new realization that he desperately needs his prostate stimulated.

“Need another reminder?”

Kyle can barely contain the feminine moan that escapes him as he gazes upon a dick pic from the stranger. And as he stares at it, licking his increasingly puffier lips, he realizes he needs it. And he needs it now. In his mouth, in his ass- anywhere. As long as it was inside him.

“Please daddy, I need it.” Kyle quickly texts back, sending a selfie of his own.

“Good boy. See ya soon slut.”

Kyle moans again, as his ass pulses with pleasure. The anticipation clouding his mind, his thoughts slowing. But as he stares at his new selfie, he can’t help but feel that this is wrong. That he wasn’t some smooth, bubble-butt, horny twink desperate for a quick fuck. No... he was... he was... A giggle escapes his increasingly puffy lips and he stands up. His ass sticks out as he saunters over to the mirror. Drinking in his new look. Loving his thicc ass, his small cock, and lean figure. His mind filling with all the knowledge he would need to please any man and a desire to do just that.

“Mmmmm daddy...” He moans, as he squeezes his own ass. His voice sultry and high-pitched.

It’s only a few minutes later until there’s a knock on his door. And the young twink saunters over, opening to reveal the man he had been texting with. Only a few minutes later, his nose is buried in the man’s musky pits. His memories of the girl yesterday vanishing from his mind. And as he deep throats the man’s dick, any interest he may have had in growing his muscles vanishes. It’s only when he’s thrown onto the bed, his ass up in the air, does Kyle panic. A sense of dread filling his psyche. Images of the man he was- his memories- filling his mind. But it all comes to a screeching halt as he feels his partner’s dick enter him. And with each thrust and feminine moan that leaves Kyle’s lips, more of these memories vanish.

Its only a few minutes later that the man leaves. Kyle is still lying in bed, cum leaking from his needy hole. His mind in shambles. But as the post-orgasm bliss fades, Kyle can feel the desire for round two start to grow. And with an ass like that, Kyle wouldn’t be waiting for long.

[anothermaletfwriter]

How do you feel being a twink?

(Accidentally deleted the anon ask oops: can you please do a story where the library changes a total douche straight guy into the ideal, effeminate twink asian boyfriend of the gay guy he relentlessly bullies? would love if the guy feels himself becoming trapped in his own mind & unable to stop his new body from absolutely fawning over the new love of his gay life. your stories are soooo hot)

Liam Richardson never got along with his gay roommate, Daniel Lee. For starters, Liam didn’t even originally pick out Daniel as his roommate. The original roommate he picked was a straight white jock bro like himself but he never arrived. It was only after Daniel arrived that Liam learned the original roommate dropped out of university to work on his full-time job of teaching a course about selling other courses.

Liam didn’t consider himself homophobic. He just didn’t want people to shove their sexuality in his face, despite him constantly doing the same for his heterosexuality.

Daniel was the out and proud gay that caused agitated Liam. Daniel wore soft oversized colorful outfits. His bedsheets and blankets were a rainbow. He had rainbow pride flags and posters of K-pop groups hanged on his wall. Underneath his bed was his collection of BL and yaoi manga. He made the place smell of peaches and cream.

To most people, Liam was a bully to Daniel, making fun of his looks, gay voice and the gay media he enjoyed. He had resorted to verbal bullying after his first and only attempt at physical bullying had backfired. After a two hour gym session, Liam had come home, wearing a drenched muscle tee that barely covered his juicy pecs, to Daniel eating the chips he had left out on the counter that were meant for him. After a loud argument between the two of them, Liam put Daniel in a headlock, flexing his muscles as he shoved Daniel’s soft face into his musky pits. He stopped after a few seconds when he felt Daniel’s boner on his legs. He swore off to never do any physical bullying again, despite Daniel’s multiple requests for him to do it again, sometimes he even offered money for it, which Liam still turned down.

Because of Daniel, Liam had to calculate around his schedule, figuring what time he got home to sneak a woman into their place for a quick fuck session. His type were short busty women, except for Asians as he didn’t find them that attractive, especially if they wore nerdy glasses. He enjoyed how powerful he felt towering a foot over his women.

Daniel wasn’t shy about his dream boy: Soft, effeminate, twink and Asian. Liam was pleasantly surprised Daniel never brought any guys home. He didn’t want to see any gay sex, especially one that involved Daniel. When asked when he would find a guy to hookup with, Daniel simply responded with, “You’ll know when I bring him home.”

When he woke up this morning, he could swear Daniel was staring at him with a big smile. What made it even creepier was his recollection of Daniel speaking in Mandarin before he fell asleep last night and a glance at his laptop revealed he was looking at ancient love spells.

There was a new library in town, and Liam went there, voluntarily, not to study but to go searching for any women to bring home and breed. If he timed it right, he had an hour to find one and fill up before Daniel got home. His predictions were accurate as he was able to snag a seat that give him a clear view of the pod of sorority girls chattering amongst themselves. While Liam slowly got up to approach them, he stopped midway from his chair. A soft vanilla fruity scent clogged his nostrils like if someone had thrown a perfume bomb in the middle of the library. He looked around and noticed no one seemed to even realize the smell. As the perfume entered his body, he felt his chest grow warm, prompting him to go to the bathroom.

Once he arrived in the empty bathroom, he was shocked to see another face in the mirror. His nose was shorter with a wider base. His hair turned from deep wispy brown to spiky jet black. He now had monolids as his eye colors became black. His skin a golder tone than the pale beige it had before. He was Asian! Liam tugged at his elastic skin like it was a mask but it stung when he tried to pinch it off. It was his own flesh, not synthetic. But that couldn't be, he was a white guy named Liam. No he wasn’t. He was David Nguyen, far from an ordinary white guy.

A softer voice appeared in his head, revealing himself as David, “Hey I’m not done yet,”

“What the fuck? What do you mean not done yet?” Liam asked himself in the bathroom, his deep voice bolting like rain, “Get out of my head and fix me back to the white jock I was before.”

“That’s not what Daniel wants.”

“I don’t give a little shit what that gay boy wants.”

“That’s just too bad. Anyways, I’m taking over your form as per his request so enjoy the ride! It won’t hurt a bit, it will just feel even warmer!!” The voice taunted before disappearing, much to Liam’s protests for it to return.

Liam curled him up his biceps and made a fist, vowing to find Daniel before anything else happens. But before he could exit the bathroom, his body froze. No matter how hard he willed for muscles to move, they wouldn’t budge. Before he could think, his body returned back to the sink and mirror. David was in control of his body and Liam couldn’t even yell for help.

His body formed a smile as the rest of his transformation continued. His frame fizzled out. He had shrunk a couple of inches as the ceiling lamps seemed further up than a minute before. A natural red blush developed on his cheeks that made makeup pointless. His hands were smaller and softer, with the scent of strawberry hand lotion quietly on them. The tight tank top that wrapped around his big chest became loose as his pecs and abs flattened out. He raised his arms as the mirror revealed they losing most of their definition. He pulled up his pants and saw the atrophy of his leg muscles as well, they were slender and hairless like the rest of his new form. He coughed as his Adam's shrunk, sounding more feminine. While his muscles and strength shrank, On the flip side, his ass felt heavier, owing it to his bottom-friendly exercises at the gym.

Liam tried to reverse the transformation by thinking about his attraction to women but the harder he thought about their bouncing breasts and leaking pussies, the more of his thoughts became clouded with other men topping him. Liam begged to have his sexuality spared but David declined, stating it was the part most important to Daniel. He coughed out his heterosexuality. No more attraction to women, no desire to have sex with them. All in his male gaze was other men now. This couldn’t get any worse.

His roommate boyfriend, Daniel, walked in. His smile piercing through David’s confusion, as he squeezed the little muscle left on his chest, “You okay, David?”

Liam was no longer in control of his body, let alone his consciousness. All the douchey and toxic parts of his masculinity were cleansed out and replaced with a softer, effeminate and sensitive one. His voice rose in pitch, matching the one speaking in his head earlier, “Yeah, I just needed a minute to myself"

Daniel puckered a kiss on his lips, standing shoulder-height to his boyfriend of a few months. The internal Liam was in agony. He was no longer in control of his body, since if he was in control, he would have punched Daniel. Liam was straight, he would never even think of kissing another guy, let alone someone as gay as Daniel. But he wasn’t Liam anymore, he was David, an openly gay Asian man.

Memories of their relationship were the next to be modified. Their argumentative battles and awkward standoffs as roommates were gone. All the hostility within vanished, and what remained was tranquility and love. Instead of a rocky start, their sparks flew off instantly, since they shared many of the same interests: cozy games, crocheting, Drag Race and K-pop. All the nights Liam spent on his phone watching football highlights were replaced by the vibrant pink nights where David and Daniel cuddled on the living room couch together underneath a Hello Kitty Blanket as they rewatched Drag Race clip’s and K-pop MNET performances on Youtube. On the table was the strawberry bobas they ordered nearly every weekend.

David was enamored with Daniel not just because of his cute twinkish look but his soft, adorable personality. He would be infuriated if he knew that his old version as Liam bullied his adorable cinnamon roll of a boyfriend. David and Daniel could not imagine where they wouldn’t be living together in their cute penthouse in Manhattan. Their first date was at the dining hall, eating bland cheeseburgers and salty curly fries, as David was the first to say “I love you."

The couple soon returned home from the library. Liam’s stacks of weights and dirty stinky gym clothes disappeared as Squishmallows and other plushies and piles of neatly folded laundry that smelled off fresh fabric conditioner. The mirror Liam used to flex and even spray a few shots of his seed on became spotless. Its outer frame became pink and decorated with Polaroids of Daniel and David together, almost like a shrine to their relationship. Liam could only watch in the back of David’s mind and body as reality finished correcting its mistakes.

David and Daniel cuddled together and kissed on their beds that they had smushed together. Their hearts flustered as they touched every warm spot of their bodies out of love. They couldn't be any happier than this.

There was no Liam, only a David that had always existed and loved his roommate boyfriend, Daniel.

[devinpink]

Rainbow Jockstrap

Thanks for lettin' me borrow one of your jocks while mine wash, bro! It's funny, didn't think I'd like wearing a faggy rainbow jockstrap so much! It's like… I'm actually getting a kick out of how gay it is… and how gay it makes me look, like a total fag, bro! Yeah, a fag… a fag like you, bro. Just two faggy faggots, bro! Oh, sorry, I guess I shouldn't say that word, especially as a gay guy… uh! I mean, straight guy! Yeah, Straight! I'm straight… as a hard cock, bro… a thick, juicy, meaty, throbbing cock! A manly cock in desperate need to be sucked on by a horny fag, bro. Guys do give the best head… at least that's what I've heard... Huh? What? Oh, fuck! Sorry, bro! Didn't know I was pitching a tent, bro! I guess I just really like the way this faggy jock feels on my junk, bro...

You know, bro, it'd be a shame to waste this sick boner I'm currently rockin'. You wanna fool around?