#corruption tf

[hi-im-kaybee]

back on my corruption arc

[tfboyzblog]

Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body. 

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”  

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team... 

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice. 

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size. 

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own. 

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes. 

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “ 

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.  

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!” 

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin. 

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.” 

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”  

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!” 

-- 

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear. 

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge. 

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could. 

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.” 

-- 

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks... 

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most... 

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door. 

Mikey! It had to be him! 

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door. 

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?” 

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile... 

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.  

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing. 

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy. 

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch. 

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!” 

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak. 

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area. 

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.  

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion. 

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock. 

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again. 

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed. 

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps. 

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside... 

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”  

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.” 

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...” 

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject. 

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”   

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room. 

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body. 

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.” 

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still... 

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts. 

 “I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear. 

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”  

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.  

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had. 

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...  

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

[idesofrevolution]

Cult of Personality

The blistering New Mexico heat bared down on Douglas' '99 Chevrolet Cavalier. The small blue coupe meandered up I-25, enroute from Las Cruces to Santa Fe. The old man quietly sighed to himself, fruitlessly trying to think of a better pitch to sell his Solar Panels to the rich folks up in Albuquerque. Las Cruces ended up being a bust, just as much as Tucson: the damn things were just too expensive up front. Not that the company gave a single damn, quotas are quotas. Thus, still empty handed, he passed the exit sign for Socorro- still an hour until he'd reach his destination.

As he passed the exit, he noticed a bright red glint a bit further up the road. Douglas adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes to see. He slowed down on the empty highway as the sight became clearer. It was a car. In fact, it was a bright red '67 Mustang; it's owner leaned on the hood as black smoke bellowed from the tailpipe. Douglas looked down at his watch, knowing fully well that he needed to be in Albuquerque before sundown. Though, as he approached the broken down muscle car, the sweltering heat of the Chihuahuan Desert at high noon would be a killer. The young man leaning on the car turned his head, not even sweating a single drop, and stared blankfaced at Douglas as he pulled up.

Douglas hit the brakes, stopping his car right alongside the young man. He strode up to the old man's car, leaning in and resting his elbows onto window ledge. His stoic expression slowly melted into a wide grin, licking his lips before he spoke.

"You headed toward Albuquerque?" A thick Texan accent flowed from the man's lips, his dark brown eyes nearly black even in the blinding light of the sun. Douglas felt an odd twinge of nervousness as the grinning young man casually smiled; it felt off. Behind that handsome visage, something was brewing within.

"I'm headed to Santa Fe, but I can call you a mechanic from Socorro, he'd be here in a jiffy!" The young man's smile didn't fade, he simply shook his head 'no.'

"Phone's got no service out here, brother. I sure would appreciate a ride. It's just a mile or so up the road." He turned, pointing down the seemingly endless highway. Before Douglas could deny the young man his request, the hitchhiker leaned in closely. It may have been the heat, or it may have been his exhaustion, but for no more than two seconds, he thought he'd heard whispers blowing in the wind. Douglas said nothing, and the young man's grin grew wider. "Thank you, brother. I'll hop in the back."

As he strode back to his car, grabbing a duffel bag from the trunk of his car, Douglas wanted to slam on the gas and blitz out of there. An air of menace surrounded this man, despite his magnetic charisma; yet his foot did not press down on the pedal. The passenger side door opened, as the man hopped into the back seat of his coupe. Too late. The door slammed by itself, evidently thanks to a gust of wind he neither felt nor heard. He pulled the car out of park, and off the duo went. He glanced into his rearview mirror, taking in the sight of his hitchhiker.

He nearly took up the entire backseat. The duffel bag sat next to him, his muscular arms tightly holding it against his side. He was easily above six feet tall, likely even more than six and a half. He threw his arms behind his head, kicking his large feet onto Douglas' armrest. Outwardly, he seemed like just another good looking guy- one he'd likely see on his granddaughter's TikTok. But his guard remained on high alert.

"Just keep driving, brother. I'll tell ya when to turn off." His velvety voice was disarming, a carefree confidence just wafted from him alongside the strange heat which seemed to emanate from his muscular body. For about an hour, the two sat in silence as they rocketed down the highway. Each glance he shot into his mirror, Douglas would see the man smirking- his gaze never meeting the old man's. Thus, as the road veered to the left in the distance, their silence was broken. "Don't turn, just keep going straight." He carried a tone of authority in his voice, a natural command that would be highly unlikely to be ignored.

"There isn't a road straight ahead..." The hitchhiker finally stared into the mirror, his eyes locked on Douglas' reflection.

"Go straight."

As if of their own accord, the old man's hands kept steadfast on their trajectory. As the road began to curve, the Cavalier shot in the commanded direction, straight into the sands of the desert. They swerved, avoiding large rocks and towering Saguaros, before the foothills of the mountains started to come into view. Through the mirage before them, Douglas could see what looked like a campsite ahead, just beyond the thicket of green brambles. A crowd of maybe 50-70 people had gathered in the bowels of the desert. For what purpose, Douglas did not yet know. But as he slowly began his approach, the entire crowd had turned their eyes toward the car. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the crowd split in two; leaving a clear straight shot toward a makeshift platform right at the base of the mountain.

"Thank you for the lift, brother. Do me a favor, will ya? Stick around. I have a feeling you'd love what we have going on today." Again, his timbre was less of a request- and far more of a demand. The tone was never raised, nor was it ever aggressive. However, he felt as if one would be wise to heed his instructions. Douglas simply nodded, turning the car off, and opening the door.

The crowd was filled with a diverse cast of people, all of which were fit, energetic, and young. Not a single soul had seen a day over 30, no less than 21. They stared with vacant expressions in silence until the hitchhiker exited the backseat, at which point they erupted in cheers and applause. Douglas watched with confusion and shock as the young man walked toward the platform, shaking hands, playfully punching shoulders, giving out high fives like condoms at a clinic. Who the hell had he picked up? Where the hell was he? As he hopped atop the wooden structure in one single leap, easily five feet off the ground, he shucked the grey tank top and tossed it into the crowd. A young woman caught it, tenderly holding it against her chest as the onlookers admired his chiseled build. Raising his arms, the crowd went silent.

"Brothers and Sisters, today is the day! Are you ready? Are you rearing? Tell me!" The crowd erupted, Douglas stared around the transfixed athletes, feeling entirely out of place- as if he wasn't meant to be there. "For one full year, you have trusted me to build your bodies into machines: daily training, nightly runs, some of y'all are out there doing some of the hardest workouts we have to offer. Look at you now!" More cheers. "When I told you that your bodies were temples, to treat them as such, each and every one of you took my words seriously. I said that each of you had the potential to become something incredible. You said, but Cameron, I can't ever get to where you're at! But guess what? You followed the regimen, you became part of our family, you became a part of something so much bigger than you even knew. And we are here today, your induction into our movement, the final hoo-rah!" Mimicking the leader, every single one of the parroting people began to chant hoo-rah, once... twice... thrice... like a warcry on the battlefield. Douglas turned, searching through the sea of people to find an escape route. Instead, he only saw five men of the same jacked physique of the leader handing out what looked to be bottles of water. Peering closely, the unlabeled bottles carried a milky white liquid.

"What sort of Jonestown shit is this..." The bottles were disperse quickly amongst the crowd, the cheery if not dim young men had seemingly finished in minutes as the leader droned on. Douglas took the opportunity to make his way back toward the car, only for a moment of dread to wash over him. It was gone. In it's place, a line of tire tracks came to an abrupt end, no vehicle in sight. The old man felt a hand on his shoulder, turning quickly to be face to face once again with 'Cameron' himself.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me, Douglas. I'm more than happy to reimburse you, you've saved the day." Whispers again started to rise around him, incoherently babbling a language far outside of his own knowledge. "Today, my friend, your journey begins." Douglas tried to pry his eyes away from Cameron to no avail. The deep brown eyes seemed to swallow any thought, any desire, any need. Cameron's pupils started to pulse, mimicking the old man's heartbeat, growing larger and larger, until the inky blackness had swallowed his entire iris & sclera. Cameron smirked as he watched the old man's posture fall forward, his shoulders drooping and his jaw hanging loosely. "Mmmmmmm. Good, fall deep, vessel. For your assistance today, your reward is to be one with me, just as all in my inner circle have done."

The black-eyed stud gently guided Douglas away from the crowd, who were busy downing the contents of their respective bottles just as moans and groans started ringing out from the poor fools. The five members of Cameron's inner circle followed suit, their eyes flooding black and mouths curling into devilish grins. The group soon arrived in a clearing of the thicket, circling around a pile of filthy clothes strewn across the dirt. Douglas was slowly guided to them, entirely unwavering in his stonefaced obedience.

"Well, my children. You continue to serve me well. I admit, this body must be hard to say no to. He is a joy to wear." The five goons chuckled menacingly, one or two of them groping at their bulges through their running shorts. "Today, as you all did before him, Douglas aided me in my time of need. On a momentous day as this, such acts must be rewarded. Today, you welcome your new brother." With a swipe of his hand, Douglas' corporate clothing dissolved into thin air, burnt ash flying into the desert wind. He stood there in the nude, the group watching in anticipation as Cameron simply pointed down to the pile of reeking clothes, and Douglas could do nothing but obey.

One by one the articles began to tremble, before sliding across the sand toward their soon-to-be owner. Cameron snickered, snapping his finger. A sweaty jockstrap quickly flew into the air, levitating for a moment before shooting toward the old man's groin. Like a liquid hitting a solid, the grimy fabric collided with Douglas, warping and wrapping around his legs and package until it had settled into it's new home. The brothers grinned, as they watched the old man's admittedly humble bulge swell rapidly. It expanded outward, his balls dropping like ten pound weights as they grew, and his cock elongated and widened until it peeked it's head out from the bottom of the sweat stained pouch. Douglas moaned as his ass swelled thick and bulbous, the formerly wrinkled and smooth skin sprouting dark brown hairs as his bush followed suit. Cameron grinned, strutting over to cup his hand over the musky horsecock and balls that had sprang from his jock.

Another snap of his fingers, and the shorts shot upward, wrapping around Douglas' legs, quickly inflating them with thick mass. His hamstrings widened, his quads becoming hard as iron while his calves tightened. The chicken legs he used to possess now were two massive slabs of hard meat. Cameron continued to grope and massage his prey's bulge, the fabric of the jockstrap growing sticky with his pre as he moaned. The five grunts slowly lowered their own shorts and jockstraps, releasing their sweaty dicks into their waiting palms.

"You humans are so... simple." *snap* The socks slithered like snakes across the ground, surrounding Douglas' toes and sliding around his heel and fastening around his ankle. "All it takes is slipping into some attractive male, and you'll be worshipping at my feet. As will you." The old man's feet cracked and stretched wide, his soles growing soft and sweaty as the stinking running shoes melted around his gigantic feet. The rubber and fabric contorted and stretched, the funk of a thousand runs in the desert heat wafting from within their confines as they reformed into a perfect fit. The group started to stroke their cocks, small droplets of black sludge seeping from their slits. Cameron grinned, sliding his hand into Douglas' jockstrap and wrapping it around his throbbing member. "You, however, will be a prince among men."

*snap* The pot belly which had plagued Douglas for 30 some odd years slowly receded, fading into obscurity as if it had never been there to begin with. His abs tightened, his pecs became lean, his waist slimmed quickly with powerful obliques and cum gutters pointing toward his hose. Whispers started to echo in the wind as the five cultists stroked their cocks, streams of black, tar-like slime coalescing into pools at their feet.

"You will be a father of my spawn, a carrier of my seed." Cameron continued to pump the massive dick, watching with malicious glee as his arms grew sinewy and lean, his hands large and wide, his fingers long and slender. "Today, our army is founded." The possessed stud placed his hand on the balding head of the former salesman, pushing him to his knees; his mind blank as his master's shorts slid down to his thighs, releasing a grotesque sight. Whatever his host's member used to be was long gone, now corrupted with demonic seed. It stood upright, intricate black symbols wrapping around the foot long shaft all the way to his foreskin. "Receive my blessing, mortal. Be one with me." The ripe rod inched forward, dripping thick globules of the black sludge onto Douglas' thighs as it pressed against his face. His mouth opened, and it was over.

In a single thrust, the monstrous cock pushed past his lips and deep into his throat as Cameron began to face fuck the old man. The pools of black sludge from his minions writhed toward him, engulfing his legs in their glistening form before slinking toward his tight hole. Cameron threw his head back in ecstasy, howling a thunderous and unnatural roar as his underling's seed seeped into Douglas' rear. The sounds of squelching, cracking, suction rang out as the roars began to grow louder. Each slap of his face against Cameron's bush reformed his aged face. New hairs sprouted on his scalp, a thick forest of black spreading across his head. His lips plumped as they slurped on the smelly cock, his skin tanning and all wrinkles disappearing. The last vestiges of the black sludge squeezed into his hole, and with a wicked, fiendish grin the possessed stud cursed out into the open desert air:

"WE... ARE... ONE!" 'Cameron' released his gift down into his new son's throats, a torrent of black seed rushing out of his length and into Douglas' transformed body. His veins started to flush dark, until an inky blackness had sprawled across his lean, taut figure. Whatever remained of Douglas sunk into a void of darkness, only to be encompassed by the viscous corruption. 'Cameron' grinned, his will quickly overwhelming the spirit of the old man before slipping his demonic essence within it. More and more of him flooded into the body, squeezing into the soul, until it was unclear where Douglas began and 'Cameron' ended. Dismounting his new creation, he watched with glee as the convulsions died down, and it's eyes opened, revealing an endless inky black as it grinned.

"Yes, my master, this vessel shall fit our needs quite nicely." As his eyes slowly started to return to their normal hazel, the corruptive sludge within his veins reformed, pushing upward through the capillaries and into the skin, now little more than tattoos to the naked eye. 'Cameron' grinned, another human ensnared into his dark consciousness, little more than a husk to house his essence.

'Dougie' smirked as he pulled up his fetid shorts, quickly masking his cock dripping the black sludge of his master and brothers as he threw his sweaty arms around his new family, walking toward their new army.

---

"Alright, Santa Fe! Are we ready to get fit?" The crowd erupted as Cameron stood before them, his arms raised on the roof of the building, grinning over the 200 new disciples he was prepared to imbue with his gift. Those who had been with him at Socorro stood silently amongst the unsuspecting enthusiasts, ready to 'assist' their 'ascension' should the need arise. Just beside the building, his sons had gathered behind the truck in a circle, chanting words beyond our most vivid imagination as they stroked eachother's musky cocks into the large vat of water. 'Dougie', now a favorite of Cameron, devilishly grinned as he felt the first torrent of his corruption spew into the clear water, the thick black sludge slithering about before dissolving into the liquid as if it were never there. Round after round, they shot their father's seed into water, until there was more of the seed than there was of the water.

"Alright, brothers. I think that should do it." His deep, bellowing voice brought each of his brothers attention on him as they put their cocks back into their shorts. "Hah, and not a minute too soon." The crowd of feckless initiates began to line up, in desperate need of hydration, of which 'Dougie' was more than happy to provide. He hopped up onto the bed of the truck, as his brothers ladled their refreshment into individual bottles. Snatching one, 'Dougie' snickered. "Who's thirsty?"

[yourgoodboybaby]

No because actually I do need to get defiled in the choir loft. It's late at rehearsal one night after everyone else has already left and I'm organizing the music library like I always do when I feel something watching me. Need something unholy to creep from underneath the pulpit to teach me a new way to sing. Need to be taken like an offering to be sacrificed, split open by a forked tongue and consumed. Need to be taught worship in a way that it's never been before, greedy and scalding and too close to sin. Need to lose myself slowly as my yelps and cries turn to moans and my fear turns to desire. Need to be used and pounded and broken by something that doesn't care if I can take it or not. Need claws and teeth raking over my flesh as I'm taken, whispers of how sweetly I sing for it in my ear. Need to cum with the taste of fire and brimstone on my tongue and need it to keep going after. Need to be forced to take it so hard that I forget having ever loved a god at all

[warping-realities]

Some of the best stories I read (or reread in an attempt to save as many stories as possible) this year, I must have forgotten some but these were definitely the ones that stood out the most.

https://www.tumblr.com/mrrharper/760719766371581952/neighborhood-association

https://www.tumblr.com/artificial-transmutations/755889125138333696/give-in-to-the-midnight-grind

https://www.tumblr.com/johnbrand/759696210870321152/on-my-level

https://www.tumblr.com/octuscle/759592462045134848/teens-work-out-free-all-summer

https://www.tumblr.com/user211201/758430249651486720/roommate-needed-3

https://www.tumblr.com/johnbrand/758275828702429185/little-brother

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowjestertfs/758175458847244288/the-seed-is-strong

https://www.tumblr.com/johnbrand/758075457076936704/screen-froze

https://www.tumblr.com/gkutfdvnn/730978896430989312/it-had-been-quite-the-summer-some-friends-of-mine

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/757846779092992000/musclebeastss-ryan-looked-at-the-clock-829

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/758151653516099584

https://www.tumblr.com/gkutfdvnn/726916128488800256/ugh-for-some-reason-i-had-downloaded-some-dating

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/758095675644870656

https://www.tumblr.com/sjw-publishings/676151483884060672/big-bad-douche

https://www.tumblr.com/sjw-publishings/667844356460380160/howling-fraternity

https://www.tumblr.com/fullfriendnerdpurse/683654658049359872/esteban-and-jules-are-tired-of-relying-to-uber-and

https://www.tumblr.com/dumbmusclehypnojockboy/663010564679892992/jersey-bros-by-writer-ofstuff

https://www.tumblr.com/idesofrevolution/669852264801992705/role-model

https://www.tumblr.com/rozza22365/669029914352254976/broinfection

https://www.tumblr.com/nolecub/685723017550217216/convenience-redux

https://www.tumblr.com/idesofrevolution/715709327254667264/paternal-vetting

https://www.tumblr.com/tf-lover/726970391785013248/commission-undercover-truths

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/756548384539770880

https://www.tumblr.com/misctf/738343411639271424/arent-personal-trainers-supposed-to-be-buff

https://www.tumblr.com/joshslater/743264131379068928/stained

https://www.tumblr.com/sanzaibian/744820935459323904/youre-in-the-waiting-room-of-doctor-davod

https://www.tumblr.com/eilorow/743206735940059136/civic-transform-ball-playing

https://www.tumblr.com/eilorow/743206434159935488/civic-transform-nude-beach

https://www.tumblr.com/mrrharper/746864955063762944/this-is-how-you-sell-gym-memberships

https://www.tumblr.com/jockbroski34/748581979801501696/the-bro-cap

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/749309434607681536/the-valedictorian

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/749513985407270912/arab-uber

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/751242419783319552/how-many-drinks

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/751876469060501504/influencing-goes-both-ways

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/752238892162465792/shaka-screen

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/756546992306520064

https://www.tumblr.com/user211201/753921250799337472/tailgating

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/753779017476374528/no-such-thing-as-a-free-ride

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/756546806189621248

https://www.tumblr.com/johnbrand/753917203927236608/kickin-it-straight

https://www.tumblr.com/tf-lover/713888338404409344/agent-lyons-saga-mission-2-culture-shock

https://www.tumblr.com/tf-lover/750568127980568576/commission-cut-above-the-rest

https://www.tumblr.com/jockbroski34/756188781163446272/alterego

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/746439247184166912/road-raging

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/744058811731640320/legacies-are-supposed-to-change

https://www.tumblr.com/occamstfs/755040153387581440/new-meaning-to-hazing

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/755107905896906752/4th-of-july-bbq

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/755598582528278528/brotherly-love

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/755329260635455488/convenient-timing

https://www.tumblr.com/hyphyphurray/635696679117553664/the-gardener-cody-was-one-of-the-sweeter-guys

https://www.tumblr.com/salmonskinrolltf/636531221301723136/under-construction

https://www.tumblr.com/mrcavanaughtf/683588450627223552/marvel-caps-portrait

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/758424617215000576/the-life-i-want

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/758424574617600000/makingrealalphas-wilkes-family-house-will-never

https://www.tumblr.com/warping-realities/758424492469092352/business-with-bro

https://www.tumblr.com/maletfsstories/681728865449754624/l-32

https://www.tumblr.com/maletfsstories/669235823226617856/like-us

https://www.tumblr.com/maletfsstories/662239217965006848/just-one

https://www.tumblr.com/chrispyre/642426104198676480/jace-checked-his-watch-as-he-got-in-the-elevator

https://www.tumblr.com/musclelover4826/664314117224611840/chris-was-tired-of-always-hearing-his-parents-tell

https://www.tumblr.com/mrcavanaughtf/146749646589/summer-job

https://www.tumblr.com/musclelover4826/703001295649423360/stoner-step-dad

https://www.tumblr.com/idesofrevolution/684965716914487296/corporate-restructuring

https://www.tumblr.com/idesofrevolution/701833453098893312/purple-haze

https://www.tumblr.com/papermoon357/708891149391314944/james-had-the-apartment-to-himself-he-was

https://www.tumblr.com/the-shiftshop/709970933575729152/tss-shorts-car-freshener

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/753413159519469568/graduation-trip-transformation

model

https://www.tumblr.com/fullfriendnerdpurse/683654658049359872/esteban-and-jules-are-tired-of-relying-to-uber-and

https://www.tumblr.com/rozza22365/669029914352254976/broinfection

https://www.tumblr.com/nolecub/685723017550217216/convenience-redux

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/746252662732931072/jakes-butt-blasts

https://www.tumblr.com/thefunkfactory/746169823368740864/stinkbomb

https://www.tumblr.com/mrrharper/744145692646375424/a-workout-break

[fafnir19]

I’m just about ready to graduate from college, but I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to be one of the muscular, fratty freshmen in our baseball team. I heard they all had their heads shaved into a buzzcut as part of their hazing process. Is there a chance you can help me join them?

The sun was warm on your face as you sat on a bench in the park, watching the baseball team practice. It was just a few days before your graduation ceremony, and you felt a mix of excitement and apprehension about the future. Beside you was your best friend, with whom you shared a laugh, enjoying one of your last moments of care-free student life. "I'm just about ready to graduate from college," you said, a hint of nostalgia and uncertainty in your voice. "But I've been thinking, what if I'd taken a different path? What if I were one of those muscular, fratty freshmen on the baseball team? I heard they all had to get their heads shaved into a buzzcut as part of their hazing process." Your friend laughed. "You? A jock? That's a funny thought." You smiled at the idea, knowing it was a bit far-fetched. "Yeah, I know. It's just a fantasy, I guess." Your friend checked the time and stood up. "Hey, I've got to run. See you later." You waved goodbye, your eyes drifting back to the baseball field. You sighed, a mix of emotions washing over you as you contemplated the future.

That's when you noticed Jason, the team captain of the baseball players, standing in front of you. He said nothing, simply staring into your eyes with an intense gaze.

Your nervous laughter faded, and you shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "Jason... I don't understand..." you stammered, your eyes flicking around, unable to hold his intense gaze. "Shh, just look into my eyes..." Jason's voice was low and hypnotic, his sharp blue eyes boring into yours. Your heart raced as you felt yourself becoming entranced, your body relaxing despite your mind's feeble protests. "I think you'd look better on the floor," he said, his voice reverberating in your mind. Before you could react, you felt his fingers under your chin, forcing your gaze back to his. "No, Jason... I... I should..." you moaned, your resistance fading. "No need to resist... just listen to my voice... follow my eyes..." Jason's deep chuckle filled the air, his fingers caressing your jaw. Your body betrayed you as you moaned in response, your cock throbbing within your pants. "Mmm... fuck... Jason..." You sank to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. Your mouth hung open as you panted, your lips slick with drool. Jason stepped closer, his tight baseball pants straining to contain his bulging cock.

"You ready for the real thing?" he asks, and before you can respond, his pants slip away, revealing his massive cock. Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel yourself being pulled closer, your face inches away from his length.

As you opened your mouth to speak, to ask him to wait, you felt yourself being pulled forward. Toward him. Into him. It was as if you were being sucked into a vortex.The world darkens as you are pulled into the void. You feel your body shrinking and yourself being pulled into the tip of his cock. Your surroundings darkening as you're enveloped by his flesh. "Oh, fuck, yes..." Jason hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head as he feels you shrinking inside him. "That's it, boy, swim down to my balls. That's where you belong." The ground falls away, and you are falling, tumbling head over heels through the darkness. You cry out, your voice echoing back to you, but it is too late. You are enveloped in warmth, a sticky, wet heat that slows your movements and muffles your screams. You realize, with a start, that you are inside Jason's balls. The space is tight and confined, the soft yet resilient skin pressing against you from all sides. You are encased in a sticky, slimy substance that makes it hard to move. The thick, creamy fluid surrounds you, seeping into your pores and clouding your mind. You try to move, to orient yourself, but your body feels heavy and sluggish, your movements slow and dull. "Awww... it must be very musky down there, boy." Jason's deep laughter echoes through the sac, the sound vibrating against your skin. "I can feel you moving around in my cum tank. The scent must be driving you wild, huh? Making you all fuzzy and pliable. Hey, are you still with me, boy?" You try to respond, but your mouth feels full, your tongue heavy and unresponsive. You manage a feeble groan, a sound of surrender and submission. "Good... because Daddy is going to infiltrate you with my superior genes. Just relax and let it take effect. Soon, I'll rebuild you, and you'll be my obedient creation. My legal son, molded in my image as a fratty baseball player. Does that turn you on, boy? Knowing you'll be my little teen desperate to be just like Daddy." 

As Jason speaks, you feel the soft, resilient membrane of the sac pressing against you from all sides, constricting your movement. The surface is slippery and slick, offering no purchase for your flailing limbs. You are completely at the mercy of the powerful athlete. "Inside this sac, my body will produce a special gunk, a seminal straitjacket, that will cocoon you and ensure your transformation. It will merge with your very being, corrupting and assimilating you until you are reduced to the size of a mere sperm cell. You will be one of my boys, a part of me, and I will decide when and how to release you." You squirm and writhe, your movements growing weaker by the second. The gunk Jason mentioned begins to seep into the membrane, a warm, viscous fluid that coats your skin and penetrates your pores.

You let out a frustrated moan, your voice now little more than a whimper. "Mmm... ohhh... Jaaason..." "That's it, boy. Squirm for me. Groan for me. Your pleasure is mine to control, and your transformation is already well underway." You feel yourself being pulled deeper into the gunk, your body contracting and shrinking further. The membrane squeezes tighter, and your movements become more and more restricted. "Enjoy the ride, boy. Before long, you'll be a part of me, and I'll shoot you out when I'm ready to impregnate some lucky girl. Until then, just know that you're mine, and I own every inch of your being." You whimper, your mind clouding with pleasure and submission. Before long, you're nothing more than a sperm cell, ready to be wanked out and reborn under his control.

Days turned into an eternity of existence as a sperm cell, until finally, Jason fucks a hot girl and you're shot into a condom. The condom lay forgotten on the bedroom floor, a testament to Jason's post-coital carelessness.

You were aware of your existence as a mere sperm cell, shot into the condom during his release. The latex prison seemed like your final resting place as you hadn't fulfilled your purpose of impregnating an egg. "This is it," you thought, bracing for the end. "I'll fade away, and my consciousness will be lost forever."  But then, something unexpected happened. You began to absorb the cum that surrounded you, feeling it nourish and restore your body. 

"What the—?" Jason's voice cut through the room as he noticed the condom on the floor, twitching and pulsating. You continued to grow, your form taking shape within the condom. The rubber constricted around you, tight and confining, but you pushed against it, desperate to break free. "Oh fuck..." Jason's eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. "I never expected this." You grew, inch by inch, cell by cell, until you were human once more. With a final, powerful surge, you burst out of the condom, naked and transformed. Your body was younger, more supple, and resembled Jason's athletic build. You were now 18, a fresh-faced teen brimming with potential. As you ran your hands through your hair, you noticed it was shorter, styled in a buzzcut like Jason's.

You stood there, dazed, your mind foggy but filled with new thoughts and desires. "Baseball..." you muttered, your eyes landing on the bat leaning against the wall. "Frat..." You looked down at your body, flexing your muscles, and then at Jason, admiration and devotion shining in your eyes. "You... my role model." Jason's voice cut through the air as he picked up the shredded condom, a look of surprise on his face. "How is this possible?" You tried to speak, but your mouth felt strange, as if you were forming words for the first time. "I... I don't know," you managed, your voice sounding like a stranger's. "Amazing," Jason whispered, a smile spreading across his face. "My own minion." You looked at him, and your mind felt cloudy. Thoughts of admiration and loyalty filled your head. This man, Jason, was your role model. You wanted to be just like him—a confident, charismatic leader. Jason's eyes narrowed, and he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "Well, my little creation, it seems like we're bound together now. And I think it's time to put you to good use." You nodded eagerly, your mind now singularly focused on pleasing Jason and embracing the life he had bestowed upon you. "Yes, master. I'm ready to serve. Tell me what to do." "First, we need to get you geared up. You can't go around naked all the time." Jason laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made you feel safe and excited. "Then, we'll initiate you into the frat. You're going to be the freshest pledge they've ever seen." As Jason began to dress you, you marveled at the feeling of the fabric against your skin and the sound of Jason's laughter filling the room.

Weeks pass, and you fall into a routine with Jason. You train with the baseball team, your body responding to the rigorous exercises with ease. Your skills improve daily, and the team accepts you as one of their own. You became a star player, all thanks to the power Jason had given you.

"He's doing great, Coach," Jason says, a hint of pride and astonishment lacing his voice. "The perfect fratty baseball player. But I can't help but notice his singular focus on baseball and, well... fucking." He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his buzzed head.

The coach's eyes narrow, a spark of interest flashing in their depths. "Ah, I see. And what do you make of this behavior?" Jason shrugs, his broad shoulders rising and falling. "I'm not sure, Coach. I thought maybe it's just a phase, but it's been a few weeks now. He's always been a bit of a horn dog, but this feels different." A slow, satisfied smile spreads across the coach's face, creasing the corners of his eyes. "That's to be expected, Jason.  It's because he hasn't impregnated an egg when he was a sperm. He's grown from your cum, and that process has left him a horny breeding stud, pure and simple." Jason's eyes widened, a mix of shock and concern on his face. "So, that means..." Coach's hand caressed Jason's cheek, a sinister smile playing on his lips "Don't worry, Jason. After your baseball career, I'll make sure you become a dumb breeding stud too. You and your minion will be the start of something big: The breeding of the perfect baseball player... it's an art, a business, a passion. Much like the breeding of racehorses, this could become a very profitable business." Jason's eyes widened, the realization sinking in. "So, this was your plan all along? To create the perfect baseball players?" "Exactly," the coach said, stroking Jason's cheek.

Jason swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You mean... I'll be... livestock?" The coach's eyes glitter with an unspoken power dynamic. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But you already knew that, didn't you, Jason? You knew the score when you agreed to this." "Y-you can't be serious..." Jason stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "Shh, don't worry. You'll be a dumb breeding stud soon enough. Led by your instincts, you'll be the perfect livestock." Coach's eyes glint with a dangerous mix of excitement and power. "No... I don't want to be a... a breeding stud." Jason's voice is strong and determined. On Coach's lips is playing a smile and he steps closer to Jason, his presence dominating the room. "Oh, but you will, Jason. You will. It's already begun, can't you feel it?" Jason swallowed hard, "I-I guess I have been feeling... different lately. More focused on baseball and..." he trails off, his cheeks flushing. "Your body and mind are already changing, becoming more pliable to my will. Soon, you won't be able to resist." The Coach's voice is low and hypnotic, his eyes boring into Jason's. "And by then, you'll be begging to be my livestock, begging to be used for breeding, to be owned, and to pass on your genes to create more athletes.” Coach's eyes narrow as whispers into Jason's ear. "Or should I turn you into breeding stock now? Make you dumb and led by your instincts?" "No, Coach, please," Jason protested, his voice cracking. Coach's hand reaches out, caressing Jason's cheek, then trailing down to his lips. "Relax, Jason. You'll be dumb as a rock, led by your base desires. Perfect breeding material." Jason screams, "No...", his hands reaching up to clutch at his head as if in pain. "Please, no... I can't... I can't think..." The thought of becoming Coach's livestock stirs a strange, primal desire within him. "Shh, it's already done, Jason. Your fate is sealed." The Coach chuckles, his eyes glittering with amusement. "But don't worry, you'll enjoy it. The power, the pleasure, your steadily dumbing mind... it will be unlike anything you've ever experienced before." Jason whimpers, his body trembling, and you realize that he is getting aroused, his pants tenting with the evidence of his desire.

 "Now, now, no need to be embarrassed." The Coach's voice is soothing, his hand reaching out to stroke Jason's bulging crotch. "Embrace your new nature, Jason. Let it consume you." "Y-yes..." Jason moans, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrenders to the pleasure. "Oh, Coach... it feels so good..." You watch, transfixed, as Jason succumbs to the Coach's will, his body becoming a slave to the pleasure coursing through him. You wanted the same. To be a mindless, obedient jock, devoted to baseball and being used for breeding. "Good boy," Coach purrs, stroking Jason's now-pliant body. "You'll be my perfect little breeder. Now, go and practice. We have a game coming up, and I expect nothing less than perfection from my team." Jason nods, his mind clouded with desire and obedience.

He knows his fate is sealed. He will become the coach's breeding stud, and somehow, horny thoughts of being Coach's livestock excited him.

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

You ever think about feminizing cum?

Like imagine pounding a cute boy, and each load widens their hips a little, fills their chest, raises their moans. Every drop of cum she takes makes her just a little bit more…

Your good girl~

Honestly this is the DREAM. idk if I want to be the boy or the tgirl pounding him but either way. yes. Yes yes yes yes goddddddddd yes.

It starts off as a friends-with-benefits situation, just casual sex now and again. The changes are slight, barely noticeable, the only difference he ever notices is his nipples getting more sensitive and his voice hitting a higher pitch as he cums. That’s nothing too unusual, but he soon finds that it’s difficult to get off from masturbating or having sex with anyone else. He keeps going back to Her, each time bothered less and less with how She always drops “good girl” into Her affirmations, his slight discomfort with the term turning into an inexplicable blush. The pounding he gets every time She cums inside him gets rougher as well, until one day he can feel his tits bouncing as he gets railed against the bed…

[victoriaprincess]

....need to be a brainwashed maid in a maid cafe, all the maids wearing identical uniforms with different colour schemes to match each maids colorful dyed hair, a happy dazed smile on each of our faces as we serve our customers, trained to fully believe that every customer is our one and only master/mistress/mxtress/owner who we must serve however we can.

[occamstfs]

Road Raging

Road rage induced Himbofication and Muscle Growth, hope y'all enjoy and Drive safe y'all! -Occam

Peter has been waiting at this light for just shy of ten minutes. He wouldn’t normally mind but as he watches car after car blast past him only to merge back in ahead of him. After the fifth car does so he starts talking to himself just to prevent losing his cool. “It’s like no one knows how to drive! They all just think their time is more important than anyone else’s I bet.” 

The light turns red once more and he rolls his eyes as he prepares to sit through another cycle. He turns up the podcast he had been listening to distract himself from the peaking irritation as cars begin to pass through the intersection. He checks his rearview and scoffs seeing the man behind him playing on his phone as they sit in traffic. “God damnit, can we keep our eyes on the road? No wonder this city’s going to shit with assholes like him driving.” He stares daggers into his mirror and as soon as he finishes the man behind him looks up and smirks almost as if he knows he’s being observed.

Peter in turn flinches and blushes, returning his eyes to the traffic ahead as any responsible driver should. He suddenly hears a car blasting through the traffic in the left lane , scowling as he is sure this jerk is going to try and skip the line. Sure enough he slows to an idle crawl as he nears Peter’s position in line. The guy throws on his blinker to hop into line. Rage begins to grow in Peter’s chest as the car approaches inching further ahead of the traffic by the second.

Peter averts his eyes from the road ahead to glare at the man who has wronged his fellow drivers, only to find himself intimidated by the specimen of man taking advantage of him. The car in front of him makes room for the approaching BMW and Peter, caught off guard, accidentally lets the titan of a man maneuver ahead of him in traffic. The man shoots Peter a smug smirk and a wink as he shifts his car into the gap in traffic, securely pushing himself ahead of him.

Meek man he may be, the rage in Peter’s small body overcomes him as this asshole edges in front. He’s not going to let every muscle-brained bro just ignore him. He was not going to let this alpha asshole push him around. He lays on his horn as hard as he can and shouts any obscenity that comes to mind at the man ahead of him. In response the man only keeps up his arrogant expression, as he clearly has come out on top. He laughs at Peter as he mimes a blown kiss back at his overcome foe.

Peter screams loud enough that his voice even begins to grow hoarse as he continues to squirm in rage at the alpha man now squarely in front of him. He takes a quick breath and tries to calm down, suddenly shocked at letting himself act in such a vulgar manner. “God what is taking this light so fucking long.” He says to himself, not hearing that his voice has lowered in pitch. Easy enough to blame that on all the shouting anyway.

Peter continues to sit in his car in wait, trying not to let his anger at the man in front of him boil over again. He realizes that he’s now sitting in silence. Wasn’t he listening to something? He strains his mind trying to remember what he was occupying himself with not but a minute ago. Some NPR podcast starts playing through the static on his radio which for some reason starts to ignite his rage once more. Surely he’s not listening to that nerd-ass shit right? He slams his stereo a few times expecting it to just give in and play something else, it swiftly returns to static before his phone connects and starts playing the Eminem album he apparently had queued.

Suddenly the asshole behind him starts honking and Peter realizes the light has turned green. It’s unlike him to be so oblivious, not that it matters though since the douche in front of him hasn’t started going either. God the fuckers on the road these days. He flips off the man behind him for honking before returning his ire to the fucker in front of him. He starts to tailgate the BMW in his way, only leading the driver to glare at him, his eyes half-closed, dripping with dominance, demanding Peter’s submission.

Peter’s eyes glaze over as he makes direct eye contact, not even noticing as the light turns red once more, not even caring as he is to remain stuck in yet another cycle of traffic. His rage subsides as he stares at the man ahead of him, does he know this jerk? His rage completely gives way to confusion as he sits and struggles to even remember that he just blew up at the man in front of him. His stereo soothes him with music he feels deep in his chest should not be as nearly as comforting or familiar as it is.

He feels his arms briefly strain his shirt. Peter feels the sleeves stretch and nearly tear before they quickly dissolve leaving them still-growing arms barren. He starts subconsciously rapping alongside Slim, feeling confidence grow in his chest as the droll life of quiet irritation that he knows begins to feel unfamiliar. His arms and chest begin to pump up as he bops in his seat to the music. He feels his pecs quickly strain his shirt before it expands to fit them, the neckline dropping to allow everyone a view of his hard-earned pecs.

Pete feels the AC graze his now exposed chest and is taken aback, he breaks his gaze with the bro ahead of him and is overcome with shock at his body. He jumps as he sees how powerful his arms have become, triggering his seatbelt to force him back into his seat, squeezing his now shockingly powerful chest. He whispers to himself as his voice deepens even more, “this can’t be right, I’m I’ve..” The music rises in volume trying to edge out any remaining thoughts of defiance. He feels the music reverberate through his chest, pumping it larger still, asserting that he is powerful. He once more makes eye contact with the man ahead of him and recognizes, oh, that’s his bro yeah! He then turns his mind back to his body as he finds yet another aspect of his transformation, his car is beginning to smell as if it were a locker room as he begins to just pour out sweat.

Pete turns the AC even higher which only spreads his musk even more through the cabin. It almost immediately fills the whole of the car, as if he’s been using it as storage for dirty gym clothes for weeks. He blushes to himself as he wonders if this actually is the case. He desperately wants to question if he could possibly go to the gym enough for that to be a problem before he stares at his growing arm and flexes it. Bro all this time has been paying off huh. Pete smiles to himself as he basks in his own power.

The light turns green once more but this time the cross traffic has totally blocked his lane's ability to go. Further ahead of Pete and his bro a crowd of cars honk as are once more impeded. Pete feels like he too should be bothered by this but can’t find it within himself to care all that much. He continues flexing in his seat as he feels his jaw squaring out and his bulge start to fill out his pants. He sniffs his pits as he tries to remember if he’s headed to the gym or on the way back from it, guffawing to himself as he realizes he forgot deodorant today. Not that he minds though, the gym smells rank anyway, might as well smell like him.

Excited at the idea of going to the gym once more Pete is suddenly preoccupied with the idea of getting there faster. His bro in front of him flexes back at him and smirks, almost in encouragement. Pete sees him mouth the words “race ya” and winks once more. Pete’s entire body tenses up and he discards his tank, tossing it in a pile of other sweat-stained shirts in his back seat. He’s gotta beat his bro to the gym.

He feels a cap shape itself around his head as his hair shrinks into a short crew cut. Pete is far too gone to notice though, bathing in his own scent and compulsively flexing as he tries to brainstorm a way ahead of his bro. Slow as his mind now goes he guffaws once more as he lands on the perfect idea. He’ll just skip the line huhuh. Pete swerves out of the line he has been impatiently waiting in all this time and shoots past his bro who raises his chin at the challenge.

Possessed with self-superiority, Pete scans the line ahead looking for some meek nerd or hungry twink to let him in. Not too far ahead he sees a tired man glare at him through sunglasses, not knowing it is a reflection of a face he once had. Pete sneers at him, his smile perfect and white as if carved from marble. He raises his arm behind his head, briefly struggling to stretch the muscle justly. The other driver recoils in disdain at the sheer audacity of Pete forcing his car in front of him. He continues to stare as Pete continues to demand entry ahead. The glaring man who has never even done so much as curse under his breath at other drivers begins to feel a rage grow in his chest, a rage that Pete is all-too-eager to encourage. Won’t last too long anyway, just a little stepping stone to having another bro.

[halenhusky309]

Transformers : One spoiler

I dread for the day that most people watched Transformers : One, because of the amount of takes that basically put the blame on Orion Pax for pushing D-16/Megatron to snap (And then sneakily calling Orion Pax as someone wanted to protect status quo and didn't want to tear down the system simply because he didn't have that need to violently put the oppressors down like some types of common low-lives and force everyone to follow his crusade to screw the system).

Very spoiler!!!!! Warning

Orion Pax tried to stop D-16/Megatron from killing Sentinel has nothing to do with "we became as bad as him if we murder that cunt". It's more like "You're being unhealthy with your hatred and I don't think you should continue with this train of thoughts". And I promise you that Orion didn't that much fuck about Sentinel's well-being. He's afraid for D-16 and whatever direction his friend would become.

Orion Pax noticed how his dear friend began to go down to a very dark part, and he would never stop to spiral down further, even if he murdered Sentinel and his lackies brutally. And D-16 hasn't expressed any contigent plans to change the system into sth better, and all he cared about was how to punish and humiliate Sentinel in a most terrible way possible. And the way he acted toward Starscream and the High guards is peak red flag for potential dictatorship and oppression that use fear, violence, and hatred, which is parallel to Sentinel's own brand of opression that filled with lies, manipulation and exploitation.

And sorry to burst this bubble, but D-16/Megatron isn't the one who is revolutionary. That's Orion Pax's thing. Orion was the only one noticing And it will be funny to see the take "Orion wants to maintain the system" when this little shit first thought when learning about the truth is to expose Sentinel's fake-ass to the mass and rally the oppressed folks to rise up against Sentinel and the system. But I guess it's not violence or brutal enough for some people to acknowledge that Orion is going for the least destructive route to tear down the system because he valued life more.

This is not saying Orion Pax's solution for dismantling the system is the best and only way to go, and sometimes violence can be the best answer in certain circumstances. But if your the whole revolution is based solely on violences, killings and basically tearing down everything to satisfy your hatred/grievances without any considerations for the casualties, consequences, and priorities to rebuild the system, it become a pointless and selfish movement that will actually never bring any substantial changes besides sufferings and tragedies.

[stonedstr8]

Commitment to Convert

For a long time I have been focusing on reading all of the hot stereotypical gay to straight stuff on Tumblr. It's influenced some of my own habits in real life, and I've decided that it's time to push into it full time and go down the rabbit hole in permanent ways.

So from this point on, I'll be dedicating all of my time to becoming the trashiest, raunchiest, dumbest straight stoner bro possible. Toke and Stroke will be my new motto and life goal.

This blog is going to be dedicated to my IRL transformation journey, as well as any fictional writings I come up with about the process, so if that interests you feel free to follow and reach out too, I'm always happy to chat with other bros into similar stuff or meet people interested in helping reinforce the transformation.

Toke and Stroke bros 💪🏼

[warping-realities]

Life Adjustment (Repost)

“Did you want to see me, Jack?” said Stu, throwing himself onto one of the armchairs in his brother's enormous office.

Jackson, Stu's brother and the current president of the construction company founded by their father, looked at his younger brother with piercing eyes.

"I'm glad you could make it to our meeting, Stuart, considering you've been busy doing nothing every day for the past few years." Was the response given by the obviously less than happy older brother, as he looked in disgust at his younger brother's paint-stained clothes that had just ruined an expensive armchair.

"Come on, Jack, that's not fair; you know everything I've been through!"

"Everything you've been through? Please, Stuart, being dumped by your college girlfriend is not an excuse to let yourself go and become a bum still living in your parents' old basement. You're 25 years old and haven't done anything useful with your life."

"I wasn't dumped, Jack. She died, you idiot!"

"Yes, very sad, but it's been almost five years, five years during which I've supported your filthy habits, your gym routine, your entire lazy life as a talentless artist. That's enough!"

"I have a stake in this company..."

"Then take responsibility!"

"... and you don't understand, Jen was the love of my life," Stu concluded as if he hadn't been so rudely interrupted.

"Jen? Who's Jen, Stuart?" Jackson asked with a slight smile.

"Who's Jen? You must be kidding, Jack!"

"You know I don't tolerate childish habits, especially in my workplace, Stuart. So I ask again, who is Jen? I've never heard you mention any Jen, brother."

"Jen, Jeniffer, my girlfriend who… wait, no, I don’t know… who is Jen?"

"Precisely," Jackson replied, his sly smile widening but never reaching his cold eyes. He watched an impossible transformation unfold before him. In the blink of an eye, with a flash, instead of the brother he knew and had come to deeply detest over the years, there was a better-groomed version, with a smoother beard and shorter hair, with more defined muscles in workout clothes. Still, far from what Jackson considered ideal.

"So, Jack, why did you call me here? I have a client scheduled at the gym, so I don't have much time."

"A client... at the gym?"

"Yeah, what else would a personal trainer be doing?"

Absorbing this information, Jackson decided to make one more correction.

"I don't understand, why waste a college degree working as a personal trainer, Stuart?"

"Maybe because I studied sports science, Jack."

"But your major was in business, Stuart."

"Business, no way... or... maybe..."

Another flash and another Stuart stood before Jackson. Much better, he thought, seeing the figure before him, dressed more appropriately, with a toned physique belonging to someone who clearly took care of himself but didn't scream "gym rat." Still, there was certainly room for improvement, but he decided to let this new version of his brother speak.

"I imagine you want to talk about the status of the new building downtown; I can assure you I'm in direct contact with the team, and everything is going according to plan, Jack."

"Team? What team, Stuart?"

"Our construction workers, of course."

"And why would you be in direct contact with them, Stuart?"

"Oh, maybe because that's my role in the company? Overseeing the progress of the projects, making sure everything's right, walking among the guys and knowing if they're satisfied with their work."

"Maybe that was the case a few years ago, before you went to college, when our dad wanted to test your abilities. But since you graduated and returned to the company, you begged me to take a position in the office because you couldn't stand being around lower-class people."

"What? No, I would never be that snobby, no, or... did I... ask? No... ask?"

Another flash, another Stuart. Almost there, Jackson thought as he saw this version of his brother. He was wearing a sports coat and khakis, but that relaxed attitude needed a few more adjustments...

"So, tonight I'm having another business dinner with some clients; I'm thinking about hitting up a club with a few of them; you should come along for an hour, bro."

"Actually, I called you here precisely because I wanted to discuss your outings, Stuart. I understand social connections are important, but we have employees for that, plus it's a waste of your MBA. So I'm moving you to the head of financial control, right below me."

"MBA? Jack... no, I... financial department? I don't want that... or do I?"

"Of course you do; you accepted the position last year."

"Last year?"

A new flash and a new version of Stuart. This time, Stuart was wearing a proper suit, although still regrettably without a tie, and despite the neatly combed hair, there was still that beard. This kind of carefree attitude was not ideal.

"The acquisition of the land in Arlington was a success, Jack, so much so that I organized a dinner with the responsible team, along with the bonuses they'll be getting."

"If they're already getting a bonus, why organize a dinner, Stuart? Besides, you've never been one for such frivolities; your life has always been extremely rigid and regimented. Taking care of your body to present a powerful and assertive image, dressing appropriately and behaving with dignity at work, keeping the right distance from the employees; after all, you are the boss. And I don't think I've ever seen you smile at them, let alone go to dinners with them. It's not in your nature; you know how to be sociable when you want to, of course, but only when there's a benefit for the company; after all, profits and the company's image are your biggest concerns," Jackson concluded, thinking that finally this time the result would be as expected.

"I... don't... smile... of course I smile... no... image... profits... yes... knowing how to behave..."

A new flash, and finally, the perfect version of Stuart was before him, Jackson thought. Still sitting rigidly in the armchair with a clean-shaven face and the hint of a sly smile, with the same cold eyes as his brother, impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a tie that made him look like a younger version of Jackson.

"Staff cuts have been made, Jackson; there were some tears from others about the increased workload, but I told them they'd manage or be replaced by someone who would."

"Excellent, Stuart, and how do you feel about that?"

"Sorry, Jackson, but I don't understand your question."

"Don't you feel bad about firing all those employees?"

"Why should I feel bad about that? My role is to think of what's best for this company, and that's what I did."

"So cold, brother. I have to be careful; otherwise, you'll end up taking my place."

"If you lower your standards, brother, I won't think twice."

Thinking quickly that he might have overdone it, Jackson intervened once more.

"I would believe that if I didn't know that since we were kids, I've been your biggest example, and above all, you are loyal to me, Stuart."

This time there was no visible flash, but a clear change in Stuart's eyes, which now showed a glimmer of admiration toward his older brother.

"Sure, brother, if I'm who I am today, it's thanks to you!" Stuart replied, standing up and speaking in a tone of voice that, though cold and distant, still displayed immense reverence for the figure before him.

Jackson couldn't help but display the closest thing he could muster to a smile that his nonexistent emotional skill would allow while responding to what, in his opinion, was a much-improved version of his brother.

"Indeed, brother, and I'm glad you recognize that."

[fafnir19]

A prized possession

Leroy, a cocksure college jock with a swagger in his step and a twinkle in his eye, felt the power of the sports car beneath him like an extension of his own virility. He grinned smugly as he revved the engine of his father’s  Porsche, the sleek metallic body gleaming under the sunlight. Yet, his reign was soon to face a tumultuous turn.

One fateful evening, as Leroy lounged in the living room watching reruns of sports games, his father’s voice boomed through the room like thunder, “Son, we need to talk.” Leroy’s heart skipped a beat, the ominous tone causing a chill to run down his spine. “What’s up, Dad?” Leroy feigned nonchalance, trying to keep his voice steady. His father's face was grave as he uttered the words that shattered Leroy’s world, “I lost the Porsche in a gamble.” Leroy’s eyes widened in disbelief, his expression mirroring a deer caught in headlights. “You did WHAT?” he exclaimed, the blood draining from his face. “That’s illegal! We can't just give away the Porsche!” His father’s jaw was set with unwavering determination, “It's a matter of honor, Leroy. A gentleman keeps his word, even when the stakes are high.”

Leroy's mind raced with a million thoughts. How could he live without his beloved Porsche? It was his pride and joy, his ticket to popularity and admiration. He had to think fast, come up with a plan to save his precious car from falling into the hands of a stranger. An idea sparked in Leroy's mind, as he concocted a plan. “Let me bring the Porsche to the winner. I’ll have one last ride, say my goodbyes,” he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His father looked at him with a mix of pride and curiosity. "Very well, Leroy. If that's what you wish, then go ahead. But remember, honor is at stake here," his father warned, his tone firm.

Little did his father know, Leroy had a trick up his sleeve, a cunning scheme to outwit the winner and reclaim what was rightfully his. The Porsche would not be lost to some stranger; it belonged with Leroy, and he would stop at nothing to ensure it stayed that way.

As Leroy pulled up to the grand mansion where the winner was waiting, he couldn't shake the unease settling in his stomach. The imposing gates swung open, revealing Miles, a handsome man with a confident smirk on his face.

Leroy stepped out of the Porsche, his eyes narrowing as he faced the new owner of his beloved car. "Congratulations on winning the Porsche, Miles," Leroy said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance. Miles chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, the previous owner himself. Come, let me drive you back home." Leroy hesitated for a moment before accepting, climbing into the passenger seat of the Porsche beside Miles. The engine roared to life, and they sped off down the winding road, the wind whipping through Leroy's hair.

Leroy gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the confrontation ahead. "So, Miles, about the Porsche... I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Gambling is illegal, and I can't let you keep it."

"So, Leroy," Miles began, his voice smooth as silk, "you mentioned gambling is illegal. Is that your only concern?" Leroy's jaw tightened. "It is against the law, and I won't stand by—" Miles raised a hand, cutting him off and began, his voice smooth like velvet. "You really do love this car, don't you?" Leroy's grip on the seat tightened. "The Porsche and I belong together. It's more than just a car to me." Miles arched an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well then, let me show you just how much you belong to this car."

Leroy couldn't help but notice the strange sensation creeping over him. His trackpants seemed to morph into the same leather material as the car seats, fitting snugly against his toned legs. "Um, what's happening?" Leroy mumbled, eyeing his transformed attire warily. Miles chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just relax, Leroy. Enjoy the ride." With a sudden burst of speed, Miles hit the gas pedal, pressing Leroy back into the seat. The sensation was exhilarating, almost electrifying. Leroy's t-shirt and bomber jacket underwent a magical makeover, turning into a stylish leather jacket that revealed his sculpted six-pack underneath.

Wideeyed, Leroy stammered, "This... this isn't normal, right?" Miles flashed a knowing grin, his hand effortlessly shifting the aluminum gear lever. As Miles's fingers grazed the gearshift, Leroy felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him, making his heart race in excitement. "Oh, what is...?" Leroy's words trailed off as Miles continued to stroke the gear lever lightly, sending shivers down Leroy's spine. A stirring in his loins caught Leroy off guard. His body responding to Miles's touch of the gearshift in ways he couldn't explain and suddenly he sported an boner. Miles' voice cut through Leroy's haze of desire. "Do you enjoy this ride, Leroy?" Leroy could only moan in response, his body aching for more of the exhilarating sensations coursing through him. The Porsche surged forward, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. Just when he thought he couldn't take the pleasure any more, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, the electronic limiter kicked in, halting the acceleration abruptly. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, Leroy felt a strange sensation around his nether regions. Looking down in his pants, he saw an aluminum chastity cage materialize around his manhood, fitting seamlessly with the Porsche's aesthetic and locking him in a state of bewildered arousal.

"Miles, what have you done to me?" Leroy cried out, his voice a mix of shock and desire. Miles just smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you feel it, Leroy? The connection between you and the Porsche? Embrace it, let go of your inhibitions." Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he pleaded with Miles. "Please, stop this! Let me go!" he cried out, his voice laced with fear and desperation. Miles, with a devious smile playing on his lips, pulled over to the side of the deserted road. With shaking hands, Leroy reached for the door handle, ready to bolt from the car and escape the enigmatic gaze of Miles. Was this his chance to break free from whatever strange spell had been cast upon him? Leroy tensed, preparing to make a run for it. However, his eyes widened in shock as Miles got out of the Porsche and opened the door on Leroy's side.

Before he could take a single step, Miles's firm grip pushed him back into the leather seat. With a quick movement, Miles lowered Leroy's pants, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin.

Leroy's breath hitched in his throat, his body reacting to the sudden exposure. And then, as if in a surreal dream, Miles unveiled his stiff uncut cock, pressing it against Leroy's unprepared entrance.

The initial pain of penetration tore through Leroy, eliciting a scream that echoed through the quiet surroundings. But as the initial shock faded, a different sensation began to bloom within him, one of heat and forbidden pleasure. Miles's movements were deliberate and precise, each thrust igniting a different kind of fire within Leroy's core. The leather seats beneath him seemed to mold to his every curve, cradling him in a strange comfort he couldn't deny. With each push and pull, Leroy's world narrowed down to the point of contact, where pleasure mingled with pain in a dance as old as time itself. His moans filled the air, a symphony of conflicting emotions that only seemed to spur Miles on further. Leroy found himself lost in a whirlwind of sensations, his body no longer his own but a vessel for something primal and raw. The aluminum shifter gleamed in the dim light, a silent witness to the passion unfolding within the confines of the luxurious car and Miles' dark eyes bore into his, holding him in their hypnotic gaze as he whispered, "You're like my Porsche: sporty, good-looking and only meant for the pleasure of rich men! You’re my Porsche-boy now!"

Leroy's mind reeled with confusion and desire as he found himself trapped in a situation he never could have anticipated. Miles's dark eyes bore into him, a predatory glint dancing within them as he took control of the situation. "What have you done to me?" Leroy managed to stammer out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and arousal. Miles's lips curved into a knowing smile, his fingers trailing lightly over the aluminum gearshift. "Relax, Leroy. You're exactly where you belong now," he purred, his voice like velvet, laced with a hint of danger. Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled against the strange sensations coursing through him. The metallic cage around his manhood felt constricting yet oddly exhilarating, reminding him of his newfound connection to the Porsche. Miles leaned in closer, his breath warm against Leroy's skin. "You're not Leroy anymore. You're Porsche-boy, my exclusive toy," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down Leroy's spine.

Leroy's mind reeled with conflicting emotions. Was this his fate now, to be nothing more than an expensive toy in the hands of a wealthy man? His muscles tensed beneath the snug leather jacket that now adorned his chiseled body, a silent reminder that  Miles' wants him to look gay. With a resigned nod, Leroy accepted his new identity as Porsche-boy, letting go of the name Leroy as if it were a burden too heavy to bear. The leather seats cradled him, molding to his form as though they were a part of him, just like the aluminum chastity cage that held his desire in check. Taking a deep breath, Porsche-boy slid behind the wheel, his hands trembling slightly as he turned to Miles and asked, "Where should I drive you, my owner?"

Miles smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on Porsche-boy with possessive intent.

"Take me to the heart of the city, Porsche-boy. Show me what this sleek machine of yours can do." With a nod, Leroy revved the engine, the powerful roar of the Porsche filling the air around them. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he tore down the open road, the wind whipping through his hair, the leather jacket tight against his skin. As they sped through the city streets, Leroy revelled in the feeling of freedom and power that came with being Miles' Porsche-boy.

With each passing moment, he embraced his new role, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring in a heady mix of desire and submission. And as the city lights blurred past them, Leroy knew that his journey was far from over. He was no longer Leroy, the college jock with an alpha mentality. He was Porsche-boy, a prized possession in the eyes of his wealthy owner, destined for a world of luxury, pleasure, and uncharted desires. And in that moment, as he surrendered to the intoxicating rush of the unknown, Leroy found a sense of fulfillment he had never known before. As a result, he forgot his former name and Leroy was no more. In his place stood Porsche-boy, a symbol of luxury and desire, a testament to the intoxicating allure of submission and control.

Embracing his fate as Miles' Porsche-boy, he knew that this new chapter in his life would be anything but ordinary.

[kelykorruption]

Factory Default

Val was your typical goth girl for most of her young life, being drawn to the style at a young age and embracing the lifestyle. In high school Val discovered her sexuality and realized she just wasn't attracted to men. Even though she wasn't your stereotypical popular girl, everyone at school was drawn to Val, boys thought they could change her, and girls wanted to be her, or be with her. Despite this Val kept most people at arms length, she knew nobody wanted her for who she was on the inside, they all just wanted the hot goth girl for her looks.

Going into university Val was sure not much would change but was hopeful she might find at least one other like-minded person at such a massive school. Luckily it didn't take long for Val to meet someone that actually understood her, someone who looked and thought like her, not to copy or impress her, but to express their own personality. Before long they introduced her to others who shared her lifestyle and for the first time in a long time Val was surrounded by people who understood and respected her, this was the happiest she had ever been.

One day after class Val was heading home to get ready for her first day at her new job, she was going to bartend at a new alternative bar that opened up just outside campus grounds. The new bar was kinda tacky, feeling more like Hot Topic without children than an actual bar, but the vibes were good and the pay was alright so Val was pretty excited to get started.

Before she could make it home though Val was stopped on the street by a stranger, she didn't recognize him from any of her classes and he didn't really seem like a student at all. The man asked Val if she wanted to see a magic trick, Val rolled her eyes and told the man she had no time for a silly card trick before he cut her off and closed the gap between the two of them. Before she has a chance to react the man leans in and whispers into her ear "Factory Default", her vision goes blank as Val falls unconscious on the ground.

Hours later Valarie woke up in her room at the sorority house, her head was spinning and everything felt off but she just couldn't figure out what it was. There was a knock at the door and one of her sorority sister pocked their heads in "Are you still not ready babe? We're leaving in 20 minutes to hit the clubs, hurry up or there won't be any studs left to buy you drinks". The thought horrified Valarie and she immediately got right to applying her makeup, she wouldn't be caught dead buying her own drinks, that's what boys were for, and she learned long ago how to get whatever she wanted from them.

END.

[fanterfane]

Fayne's Funny Feelings!

Fayne gets clowngirlified! A fake red nose is not something Fayne would normally notice, but something about the little red ball of a clown nose drew his attention from across the dusty abandoned basement. He avoided clowns normally, they were too energetic, obnoxious, and "fake" for him to understand for some reason. Not to mention the creepiness of some clowns and how they're represented in media... He really shouldn't have been down in that basement anyway, it was boarded up for a reason, he was told. But surely there wasn't anything wrong with taking a souvieneir no one would miss, right? He could at least play catch with it like a red ball. When he picked it up from the corner full of circus supplies though, a shiver travelled up his arm... before he knew it, the red nose collieded with his face with all the force of a cream pie! Immediately after, Fayne started to feel... a little funny!~ Then, he started to feel even funnier, and when his chest felt tight, it was so funny he could barely keep his laughter contained! Before long, she won't ever contain their laughter ever again. He may have been shy before, but now, she'll be hilarious!~ She'll share her laughter with everyone, no matter what!! Originally finished in October 2023!

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[slyratex]

Sucked dry

It was a complex spell. But when you saw me in the hotel I spent my vacation in your home town in, you instantly knew I was the right person to try it on. I had many of the attributes you were looking for to test your skills. A young student, an intellectual, an artist. Shy and benign. Slim, androgynous, smooth, naive and unseasoned. So you offered me a drink to lower my defense. Started small talking, nodding and agreeing with everything I said to make me incautious. You complimented on the four traits of mine you admired the most: My rather androgynous appearance, my intelligence, my gentle character and my youthful spirit. I didn’t even get suspicious that you might be after exactly these treasures of mine. And when I was intoxicated and my emotions were putty in your hands, you offered to bring me back to my hotel room.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you pushed me inside, threw it shut and me onto my bed. I stood no chance, dizzy and clumsy as I was, and in mere seconds you positioned me lying in front of you, legs spread open, ass up in the air, offered to you like an open door. You slid kneeled on my bed and slid your shaft inside me, filling my tight hole as far as it went.

Then you started humping me while wanking my cute dick off. I couldn‘t resist, not in actions and not even in words. Your spell had already begun to show its effects on me. You leaned down over me and gave me a forceful kiss, sucking on my mouth and tongue mercilessly to extract the attributes from your victim that you had been looking for.

First you sucked the feminine beauty out of me. As your skin became smoother and your main hair longer and thicker, you saw my hair thin out and my face being manned up by short stubbles. My face became sharper and more defined whereas yours softened. I lost the memories of being a girlish boy and suddenly remembered being a typical rascal in my youth, a misbehaved boy known for showing typical behaviour for boys.

You also sucked my innocence from me, turning me into a smoker from my early adolescence, and making me less naive and more keen. The boy you saw first slowly disappeared as his defining attributes went over to you, substituting him with the guy below.

But you weren‘t finished yet. You sucked harder and the more you sucked, the more of my intellect you drained out of me. While your IQ rose by at least 60 points, making you a real master mind, mine fell by the same degree, leaving me with a brain so degraded it could barely handle simple math operations. You turned an all A student into a moron, a dim-witted idiot with sleepy eyes, not thinking about any complex or abstract ideas. As my memories were altered further, removing my great high school career and adding memories of bunking off school to meet with my friends in the woods experimenting with alcohol and cigars, my body transformed further, my beard growing, my style in clothes changing. Every thrust of your lower body against my ass banged away another piece of the puzzle that made up my once complex personality.

There still was a way to go. You had to change my whole personality, as you wanted to have everything I had. The character so many liked me for would certainly be a nice addition to your curriculum. You stripped me of my gentleness, my generosity, my shy and reluctant behaviour, all the things which people found cute about me. As my lungs and my heart turned more black and my education was erased, I started to think of the many fights I had when I was a young adult. How many nights I had to spent in jail. My hair receded further and became thinner, leaving me almost bald, but my beard grew thick and long and gave me a fierce look. Nothing was left of my trustworthy face. Tattoos appeared on my skin, making my appearance fit my character. In this new person there was no room for creativity, for philosophy, for an interest in art and literature. All this became totally irrelevant to me, while you took my talents in these areas from me and added them to your own perks. You knew people would love you for your charisma from now on, while I had become a guy causing those who I held close before our encounter to change the side of the street to avoid him.

One last step to make your spell complete. You still had one of my traits to steal. So you sucked and sucked, humping me more violently and speeding up your hand movements to jerk me off. I spasmed and cramped as my body underwent the hardest change of this transformation. Dizzily looking up to you and down on me I saw the traces of age the years had left on your body disappear. You became younger. How many years, I can‘t say. As many as separated you from the age of a college student. You felt your health improve, you became more athletic and more beautiful.

Meanwhile I experienced the opposite. You drained all of my youth from me you needed to reach the age I had before, but I grew older and older. My face was marked by wrinkles, my beard grew thicker, longer and greyer. More smoke filled my lungs and my belly inflated until it fitted a middle-aged man who obviously had enjoyed his life. My personality, already stripped of my high intellect and my well-educated character, now completed the U turn as most of my conditioning changed, everything I grew up with in the late 90s and early 2000s was deleted and the millennial in me basically died. He made place for an early Gen X man or even a late boomer. And this changed everything for me. I suddenly remembered many years that had never been there before. I had grown up with far more conservative values, I had a wild youth and then settled for a more traditional life. I had spent decades working a blue collar job.

And as I realised what was happening, a gigantic orgasm built up inside me. I tried to stop it as I wanted to resist the transformation that had already happened, but it was too late. I started grunting with a deep, manly voice, rough from all the decades of smoking and drinking. Meanwhile the twink boy humping me let out a high and girlish scream. You released the last shots of spunk that were produced by your old self into my ass to give the last of the properties that you wanted to leave behind to me.

Simultaneously, I ejaculated the last remains of who I was into your hands. I cursed in my mind, but with the first shot, my anger over the transformation disappeared. The second shot I released released me from any other negative feelings about this, leaving me with a neutral attitude towards your deed. The third shot came and I started to like it. A fourth shot of cum turned that into joy and acceptance, as I realised it wasn‘t so bad after all. The orgasm continued with a fifth shot that awoke a certain gratitude to you. With the sixth shot the new personality and the evaluation of it as not only something acceptable, but even something preferable to what was before was completely embedded in my mind. And then the last, the seventh shot of spunk left me and with it went every last rest of who I was, including the memory of this evening. As the orgasm ebbed away, I didn‘t even know anymore I was transformed, as your spell was complete.

I lied on the hotel bed exhausted, looking down on my body. I was fat, old, bearded, hairy, scruffy, rough, bearish, tattooed, greying, wrinkled, a full man. Well, the man I always was. Lighting up a smoke I looked at the twink kneeling in front of me. You pulled your dick out of my ass while licking up the jizz from your fragile hands. What a filthy millennial bitch you are! You gave me a horny grin and stood up. You put the money into your bag. Now that I tried the passive role for the first time, I knew it wasn‘t for me. „How about we do it the other way around and I show you how it actually works?“, I mocked you. „Sorry, but you didn‘t pay for that,“ you replied and gave me a wink, „I know you crave a beautiful young lad like me. But this was a one time thing and I think it is time you start looking for guys in your league again, gramps.“ Before I could complain, you left my hotel room. I stroked my hairy belly, and as soon as the door fell shut behind you, I started wanking my thick, manly cock again, fantasising about fucking the enviable young twink I will probably never meet again. I wonder what his life is like…