#locker room odor

[k12academics]

Whiff! was specifically designed as an answer to most encountered odors. Whiff! uses an unmatched selective oxidation power to physically change the chemistry of odor-causing culprits.

100% safe

Kills odors on contact

Easy to use

No mixing

[occamstfs]

Chauffeur Swap

Another epistolary TF ! Cocky office worker to an equally cocky gym bro, trait swap + IQ Drain aplenty -Occam

Monday May 6th

Morning 

I’m beyond thrilled that I’m finally being looked at for a promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this company ever since I graduated and I am not going to let this chance slip through my fingers. It’s such a good gig, in the week leading up to them filling the position they’re letting us use the company’s chauffeurs as just one little hint of the luxury this promotion will afford us.

At least, that’s what I thought before my driver arrived to pick me up and I saw what a slob of a man my driver was! I mean my word! I thought it was a prank or something else untoward! I’m sure he could tell too, I could not muster even a shy smile, nothing to do but grimace. God and that was before I got in! He must have just been an Uber hired or something because it smelled like a locker room in there! Truly vile!

God willing this is a one off occurrence, hate to get the oaf in trouble. Though judging by the state of his hygiene though he clearly needs to be taught a lesson somehow! I mean even with this job I couldn't afford to buy cologne enough to hide that stink- perhaps some dog-strength febreze- Ha!

Evening

Godddd fuck! The last thing I needed after such a stressful day was to be greeted by that animal’s face- worse yet, his SCENT! I underestimated just how grueling this interview charade would be. It is just one final hurdle to the big leagues though. I will leave petty contrivances like suffering through this unpleasant car ride behind.

Just to make the time pass with greater speed I put forth some small talk. Not like I could hold my breath near long enough to make a difference, and it couldn’t hurt to vent about what a hassle the day had been hm? After this though he started talking about himself and fwoh- could I not care less about whatever surely protein-fart based drivel or beer-brained diatribe he launched into. 

Perhaps this is unfair, I did not deign to listen to him. So perhaps he’s better than he seems. But who could blame me, sitting in that car was punishment enough to earn me tuning him out. And! And! For him to have the benefit of the doubt surely he could at least wear deodorant! Hm. Unless he is trying? God that would be depressing, to be so, ugh- I continue to hold out hope I never see him again

Tuesday May 7th

Morning

Mm, I simply must develop a better poker face if I am to continue to suffer in this odor for the week, god forbid even longer- I have prepared accordingly however, yesterday no one mentioned it at work but I swear I kept smelling it, him, all day? Same when I got home, just everytime I calmed down from work bam! I smelled this horrid car ride. I am bringing my cologne to work with me, I plan to put it at lest once more when I arrive at work.

It’s just, Why is this my problem right! I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t see why I have to suffer because of it right? I should not have to deal with someone like this, he’s supposed to be working for me. I uh, it’s not like I think I’m better than him I just, well I am better than him. Hm, I lost my train of thought. 

Ugh, I keep spacing out today- I’m sure it has to do with my twice-daily rides with, hm. I don’t even know his name. It’s? You know I don’t care. I just need to take it easy, I’m not letting this fucking dude-bro pitstain of a man bother me this much! I’m getting my bag and he is not worth a second further of my, uh, attention.

Evening

I have a headache and I don’t know how it is his fault but it has to be. This whole thing is setting me on edge, I need to chill about Ben. That’s right Ben! I got his name, I actually told him about my headache and he told me that he usually meditates to clear his mind- which crazy that someone so, despite all appearances, mindful treats his body like a sty but- Well not a sty I suppose, or at the very least a well built one- 

Ah, that’s not quite appropriate is it. God he is hot though. Honestly sitting there just breathing in his, uh, scent, helped with the headache. Wait no, it was the meditation, God, why can I not stop thinking of his fucking B.o. My headache was gone but now I feel I’m beginning to run a fever, or at the very least I need to turn down the AC or something-

Better not affect my work tomorrow.

Wednesday May 8th

Morning 

Not gonna be a good one. I fucking woke up late which ive literally never done before! I barely got myself up and ready in time and didn’t realize until the car but I didn’t bring my cologne with me. It turned out to be the least of my problems however as when I got in his car I fully spilled my coffee all over the backseat. Hopefully this will mask his putridity because I now have to sit in the front with him for the ride.

He must know. He has to know it has to be some kinda sick, uh, fetish or something. Its untendable untenable. god get your shit together Jacob. Its so hard to focus on anything else now that Im sitting right by him. I need to talk to someone about this, fuck its like hes exposing his pits on purpose. He wants me to stare at him, i bet. Bet he gets some sort of sick rise out of me. Im sure him and all the other chauffeurs probably get together and jack off about how repulsive and, uh, strong they all are.

God Fuck! Get me out of this car im losing my mind! Need to, ill just get some work done on the commute, should help i think. God its getting hot in here again or something, so help me if this fucker starts actively sweating im gonna lose it

Evening

i just couldnt get anything done today i dont know what was fucking up dude? it was just so hot in there and i mustve forgotten to put deodorant on this morning, people kept complaining but i didnt even notice? i guess i was sweating more than usual, but like, it was so hot in that office and my clothes felt weird, tight almost. As if tho, lol im sure no one even really noticed that i was off.

OH speaking of, Ben really put himself together on the ride home today. He was wearing a button up and everything, must have seen how nice im living and got his shit together! Maybe ive been to hard on the douche? nah car still smelled like shit haha! Or i think it did? didnt really notice it until like halfway thru?

Fuck my clothes are so tight all of a sudden, godd its so hot actually. I look fucking huge in this tiny little monkey suit- almost like Benjamin ha- as if id stoop so low, even if i started getting massive not like id be dum enough to be on his level lol

Thursday May 9th

Morning

Fuckin couldnt find ANYTHING this morning dude! it was like someone came in and took or hid everything i need for work today. ended up having to just fuckin leave for the car without a suit jacket- pretty sure ive got an extra in my office tho so were chill there. mm probably shouldve shaved tho lol

Oh yeah the files! i had some reports that i needed to bring in but totally couldnt find them! Turns out benjamin had them the whole time it was weird, guess i left them last night. but he was like such an ass about it, like he knows anything though the uh, jock, jerk uh. hes actually dressed better than me rn isnt he. Finally threw on a dress shirt, surely inspired by me haha- pulling it off quite well too, his chest hair peaking up through mm-

Fuckkk dude my cocks kinda getting hard looking at him, starting to smell musty in the car too, wait oh shit i didnt even notice that it didnt reek when i got in! weird that its starting to stink now tho whats up with that, looks like hes finally noticing tho ha! its nice to see him finally react to how bad my uh, no how I GOD, how bad fuckin’ he stinks obviously. whatever, ive got more important stuff to think about.

Evening 

okay work was like, not fuckin chill today. idk what was up but like, every little thing i did today just wasnt good enough apparently like okay?? you know me, if something seems off clearly, fucking OBVIOUSLY it uh, i? god my head just keeps going blank i dont get it, im just. Huh, kinda smells like Ben all of a sudden, oh fuck lol my pits have completely sweat through my shirt-

None of this matters anyway though bro! Because i just had the BEST sesh with Ben after work!! honestly the work shit doesnt even bother me, shouldve seen me its like i am a natural at this shit i was getting a pump like ive done it a hundred times. im sure it smelled like a locker room on the ride home lol

OH! I didnt even say, it was all ben’s idea!!! he said the gym always helps him when uh, things get too hard to think about and fuckk bro hes so right. hes so, lol i almost said hes so smart- he definitely knows how to work out though, he kept helping me with my technique but im prety sure he just wanted an excuse to touch me- 

not that im complaining LMAO- every time he did it was like i felt myself getting stronger, and less worried about all those yes-man suit fuckers! hed adjust my arms and i would feel my biceps just suddenly pump larger, hed bump his hands into my pecs while spotting me and theyd just force the bar up even faster, wish hed just go ahead and grab my cock lol

theres time yet too- gonna crash at his place tonight! hopefully ill get to see him put his magic fingers and tight body to use cause fuck bro idk if it was the pump or what but i dont think my balls have ever been this blue, like any time i try to think about, oh ughh, work i just. mm everything in my body just begs me to fucking blow a load- 

Friday May 10th

Morning

fucker just went to bed early- got me all riled up and then i had to jack off alone. felt way better than usual tho, my cock seems bigger to lol, dk whats up with that. wanted to try again this morning but ben was just on my fucking ass trying to get me out the door 

i didnt have any of my clothes, duh, so i just threw on some of his, crazy how much they fit me? they even kinda already smell like me lol. he actually put a suit on which seems wild, funny that i look like a slob and he looks like some uh, fancy guy. Like i should right? uhh is my headache coming back? lol idk but looking at him in that fucking suit sure is making it hard to focus-

ben said i can just change n stuff when we got to the office, its why hes dressed up. ill go ahead and drive us and then hell just run up and get my clothes, idk if theyll fit tho? feel like im larger than i was for some reason- oh yeah my massive fucking pump lol- 

mh speaking of pump, maybe while hes up there ill have time to jack another one out, not like anyonell see or care ya? like its a problem im about to be the fuckin alpha of this company or uh, something. itll be done before hes back, only evidence will be cum stains on his clothes lol. ugh it smells so fucking dank in here i might just cum without touching it lol

Evening

shit man, dont know what i was doing? i feel like i was supposed to go into work today but ben says from now on im just his driver. which easy gig right lol? doesnt even care that i dont shower huhuh-

he got his big promotion today!!! he looked so smug and hot when he came down to tell me, and he promised wed have some fun about it when he got home tonight- just gotta drop him off at some stupid fancy dinner ill probably hit the gym while hes there. gotta keep it up or ill look like some fucking dweeb

plus that means ill get the car totaly filled with my bo- hell fuckin love that, after he gets a good whiff no way wil he not want to fuck then and there huhuh fuck, kinda needs to get that exercise in now that hes doing whatever bitchass shit they do all they day up there needs to give in and just fuck me finally its been so, ugh long and my balls feel so full, and im sweating so much god im fogging up the windows loli better be careful i need to keep it together until then urgh- 

god i just smell so fucken hot

[tidetfs]

Drip.

Wade peered through his large glasses at the murky white-ish liquid falling from his ceiling into the bucket.

Drip

He gave a sigh of annoyance as his expensive gaming laptop whirred to life, grumbling about having to call maintenance and however much he was paying for this place.

Drip.

Wade’s nose wrinkled as a slight whiff of BO reached his nose. “Ugh” he shivered, reaching his arm up to check his pit. Dry. Huh. Wade turned back to his laptop, typing the first line of his email before—

Drip.

The sound echoed off the bare walls as the smell assaulted him again. “What the hell?” Wade turned around again and set his laptop on the desk, peering into the bucket.

Drip.

Wade gagged as another wave of that god awful BO stench hit him in the face, but then he paused, staring down at the murky off-white liquid slowly filling the bucket.

Drip.

He sniffed again, breathing a little deeper. The smell had become more intense as the bucket began to fill up and—

Drip.

His brow furrowed as he let a little more of the smell in, the bucket beginning to smell like a locker room or a runner’s pit on a hot summer day. "W-Wait" Wade stammered. How did he know what that would smell like?

Drip.

The odor made his eyes flutter slightly as he stared down at the bucket, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Drip.

“Mmmm” Wade breathed deeply, his mind blurring at the edges. It was becoming harder to think the more of the manly musk he let in. He blinked, feeling the front of his jeans tent slightly, his vision going dark…

Drip. Drip. Drip….

“Ahh! Wade shot awake. How long had he been here? His mind darted, it was dark outside now.

Drip.

His eyes peered back at the bucket, now half full, gagging again at the smell, posters now peeling off the walls, the surfaces slick with some sort of liquid.

“Agh!” Wade brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit as he raced to the door, jiggling the slick handle only to find it locked.

“W-what…” Wade started to panic as the fuzziness began to return to his mind, turning slowly to face the leak.

Drip.

Wade breathed deeply, letting the scent of a hundred sweaty jockstraps enter him, the wave of stench sending him to his knees. His vision blurred as his mouth hung open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the fumes sent a shock through his body, causing his member to tent his pants, straining against the denim.

Drip. Drip.

He moaned as he unzipped his jeans, letting his throbbing erection spring free as he shucked his shirt and jacket, throwing them across the room.

Drip.

As the stench of stale sweat washed over him, his mind melted into the puddle of musk. His eyes rolled involuntarily as his head lolled back, his dick already dripping with precum.

Compelled by some force, the nerd began to pull his pale, thin body across the floor towards the bucket, with each breath feeling like he was inhaling a locker room’s worth of ripe, cheesy musk.

His hand gripped the bucket, bringing the rim to his nose and inhaling the fumes, moaning into the rim as his body shook. His eyes fluttered again as his hand gripped his cock as he began to stroke.

It was impossible for him to think, the only thing he could feel was the smell, his mind becoming mush.

He couldn't stop his hand, his strokes speeding up as the scent of musk filled his mind, his hand moving faster and faster, the scent filling him with a primal urge, his body writhing on the floor, his mind a blurry mess as he stroked himself faster, his mind lost to the musky aroma.

Despite the small part of his brain telling me not to, Wade knew what to do, reaching out his tongue to catch one of the drops.

Drip.

Instantly, his body was wracked with heat. Wade fell back onto the floor as sweat began to pour out of his pores as if he had just finished a long, grueling game in the heat. His glasses were quickly coated in a layer of steam, making the world around him blurry.

He didn't care.

Wade continued to stroke himself, his body tensing as his hands moved faster and faster, the sensation building up in his abdomen.

Drip.

More. He needed more. More of that intoxicating smell. Wade pulled himself across the floor towards the bucket, lifting himself so his lips could lap up the sweaty droplets.

The taste was incredible.

Wade's eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as the taste of the pure, unadulterated musk exploded across his tongue. His hand pumped his cock faster and faster as he lapped at the bucket. He could barely think, the taste sending him over the edge.

Wade let out a loud moan as his body began to shake, the smell sending his body into overdrive. He could barely hear his own screams of pleasure over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, as he started to feel his body change.

His arms were the first to feel the effects. The skinny limbs started to bulge, his muscles growing larger, thicker, and stronger. Wade could barely notice, his mind lost in the smell. His body was shaking, his back arching as his torso expanded, his stomach becoming rock hard, his pecs becoming two firm mounds, his shoulders becoming broader.

Drip.

Wade continued to moan as he felt his chest grow heavier, his pecs growing into large, round melons. He could barely think, the sensation was so overwhelming. He couldn't stop stroking, his cock continuing to grow, his balls becoming two large, swollen orbs. His hair was plastered to his head, the sweat dripping from his body.

He could feel his body changing, his muscles growing, his ass becoming rounder, his hips becoming wider. His cock continued to grow, his balls becoming larger and larger, until they were obscene and drooping.

Drip.

Wade was a sweaty, writhing mass on the floor, his body shaking, his cock leaking precum. His hair was plastered to his face, growing longer and unkempt as the sweat poured down his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out.

Drip.

Wade groaned and whimpered as more drops began to fall from the ceiling, landing on his chest and causing his muscles to clench, his back arching. The sweat dripped down his face, his neck, his chest, his back, his arms, his legs, his feet, his toes, his fingers.

Drip.

Every drop caused his muscles to spasm, his body convulsing, his cock leaking more precum. His pecs were so large, he could barely see over them. His ass was so round, he couldn't even sit properly.

Drip.

His entire body was covered in sweat, his entire body dripping with it. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock twitching.

Drip.

He moaned and whimpered as his face cracked and changed, becoming model-like, his glasses breaking and falling to the floor.

Drip.

He groaned, the scent sending his mind into overdrive, his body twitching and convulsing. His muscles were so large, they were bursting through his clothes.

Drip.

Every muscle in his body was on fire, his body drenched in sweat. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by the scent.

Drip.

He gasped as he felt his mind go blank, his body shaking as he came. His orgasm was so powerful, his balls contracted, forcing the cum to spurt out of his cock. The force was so great, the stream of cum flew through the air, covering the room.

Drip.

"Ah!" Wade gasped as the drops fell onto his skin, sending waves of pleasure through his body, his cock spraying his seed all over the room.

Drip.

The drops kept falling, causing Wade's orgasm to continue, his body shaking. He could barely think, his mind was swimming as all paths of higher thought were permanently wiped away, replaced by an unending desire to bury himself in the pits and crotches of sweaty men. His hair grew out, becoming blonde and shaggy, signifying his permanent change.

Drip.

It was not for hours that he finally left the house; but the Wade who walked in would never return.

[hairyjocktf]

First Workout of the Year

Aidan was just starting his second semester at university, and after a long winter break of being a bum he was ready to get back to his goal of finally getting in some semblance of shape.Despite his efforts during the fall he was still practically a twig, something the studs on grindr were keen to let him know. This was finally going to be when he packed on some size, he told himself as he headed into the campus gym. It was packed with people his size, trying for those new year's resolutions, with the regular jocks standing out amongst the crowd. He squeezed in between the hoards of people, getting in a basic circuit on the resistance machines. After about 40 measly minutes he was sweaty, out of breath, and decided to call it a day for his first workout back.

He headed to the locker room to rinse off before getting on his way. Letting the warm water pour over him for a few minutes, he let his thoughts drift to the hunks he saw in the free weight area. Damn they looked good, he thought, I hope I can pull off a tank top like that eventually. Eventually he came back to reality, turned off the water and reached for his towel. Or at least, where his towel was supposed to be. Shit! I must’ve forgotten it and not even noticed, he lamented. Soaking wet and low on options, he peeked out from the stall to see if anyone was around. Shockingly, the place was empty. On a nearby bench he spotted a leftover towel. Not that he wanted to use a dirty towel, but there weren’t many alternatives. Embarrassed about his actions, he darted over and snagged the towel before hiding back in the shower. 

Eager to put this whole situation behind him, he used the towel to dry off his body, followed by his face. But while wiping his face he noticed a stench that had been missed earlier. The towel absolutely reeked of sweat and body odor. Upon opening his eyes at the eye watering smell he saw an even more disgusting problem: the towel was coated in thick dark hairs! How did I not see that? He cursed at himself. He spit one out of his mouth. Disgusted, he threw the towel down to the floor and quickly changed back into his clothes before storming out of the gym.

On his walk back to his dorm he was pissed, Who would leave a filthy towel like that? He angrily thought, and why did I not pay closer attention? The afternoon was warm, and he felt himself sweating. Guess I’ll have to shower again, he thought to himself. As he kept walking he felt increasingly sore in his muscles, maybe that workout was better than he had thought. He caught himself scratching at his pit, which was odd behavior for him, but he brushed it off as just being sweaty and sore. He brought his finger back up to his nose and sniffed them. Phew I stink! He said to himself. A moment later that action registered in his brain, Why the hell did I just scratch and sniff my pit? He began to worry. His shirt began to feel a little tighter than normal, restricting his arm movements as he walked. His shoes also felt smaller than usual. He continued making his way home, nearly there, as worry truly set in.

By the time he reached his dorm his back was drenched with sweat, he was feeling sore and itchy and all around uncomfortable. As he reached his hand to the door to put his key in his eyes widened. His hand was much larger than normal, as was his forearm, and they were both coated in thick dark hairs. As he stared, the hairs seemed to grow denser as they spread up his forearm to his bicep, which was also inflating to ridiculous size. Aidan quickly threw open the door and ran inside straight to his bathroom mirror. 

What he saw made his jaw drop. His frame had grown substantially since leaving the gym just a while before, pushing against his now tight clothing. He could see his biceps and shoulders bulging under the fabric, stretching his t-shirt to its limit. As he stared agape in the mirror his pecs also began to grow, inflating his shirt even more. He groaned in discomfort as everything felt so sore as his muscles packed on years worth of mass in seconds. With a final grunt, his shirt split open, unable to contain his hulking body in a size small any longer.

His shirt in tatters, Aidan’s bulked up body was now clearly visible. Muscle mass was not the only thing growing on him. As he stared at his mountainous pecs, tiny dark spots began to appear across them. Dark pinpricks spread across his chest before erupting into dark brown hairs. Thin at first, they quickly darkened and thickened into respectable chest fur as his skin disappeared beneath the growing coat. It spread out from the center, swirling across his pecs and thickening around his nipples as thicker, longer hairs sprouted around them. The hairs crawled up to his collarbone, making sure that plenty of dark hairs would be visible above any shirt. He moaned from the feeling of the hair spreading, filling his new body with ecstasy.

Aidan felt his previously flat stomach contort, with pronounced abs growing in and giving him that sought after V shape he admired in other jocks. That definition was quickly buried under his spreading body hair, however, as it raced down from his chest. Thick, dark hairs grew down in waves across his stomach, burying his abs under a coat of dense fur just like his chest. But that was just the beginning of it. He felt a strong itch below the waist of his paints as pressure increased substantially there. Pulling out his waistband he watched in horror as thick hairs erupted across his groin, engulfing the wisps that had been there before. The hairs were thick, dark, and grew curlier by the second as they spread. They grew up above his waistband, connecting to the forest that had covered his stomach, and then down to his thighs. His balls were not spared that fate either, with his sack becoming overrun with fur. With a densely hairy crotch that only continued to grow, Aidan groaned and put his hands up to his face, revealing a flash of dark under his arm. 

He lifted his arm just in time to see thick, wiry hairs erupting from his armpit. They grew longer and thicker as they spread out, and he could see the sweat getting trapped in the bushes already. He scratched at the growing tuft of hair with his other hand, feeling the hairs grow and curl as they filled his armpit to the brim, sticking out even when he put his arm down. Those hairy pits already smelled to match the jock he was becoming, it was eye watering. The hairs even filled out to the point of connecting with his chest hair, giving his upper body a full coat. Or so he thought, at least, before the hairs began crawling up his boulder shoulders, the fur wrapping all the way to his back. The itchiness growing on his other side told him all he needed to know. Thick hairs were worming their way out across his shoulder blades, dusting his entire back with dark fur. The hairs climbed down, thickening as they approached his ass, which itself had grown quite a bit without him noticing. The itchy feeling reached a zenith as dark brown hairs began pushing out of his plump ass, giving him a nice thick fur coat even there. He reached around to scratch at his hole, feeling intense pleasure as thick curly hairs burst out around it, filling his crack with dark hairs.

It was at this point, half lost in pleasure, that Aidan noticed his pants becoming incredibly tight. To avoid what happened with his shirt he quickly stripped them off, watching his quads grow to three times the size they had been, and the rest of his legs packing on impressive size. The thick hair in his groin and on his ass spread downwards, coating his thighs in an absolute rug of curly hairs. They of course did not stop there, shooting up across his calves and stretching down towards his feet, which began to grow quickly. After kicking off his shoes he watched as his feet grew longer, toes getting thicker as the same thick dark hairs popped up across his toes and the top of his foot. He was now stuck with huge hairy jock feet! Aidan looked back up at the mirror, seeing a hulking and incredibly hairy jocked up body that looked nothing like he had just an hour before. The only thing out of place was his babyface, though something told him that was soon to change.

As if waiting for that moment, the hairs on his face began to sprout. Follicles pushed out hair after hair as his chin darkened. His hands scratched at the growing stubble as it covered his face, wiry hairs exploding across his upper lip. The thick hairs continued growing and spreading, giving him full coverage, reaching high up on his cheeks and connecting down to his chest hair. The fur crawled out of him, leaving barely any of his skin visible by the end. His body continued to explode with muscle, his frame getting heavier and bulkier. The hair hid most of the definition but anyone would still be able to tell how absolutely built he was now. The changes had taken a lot out of him as well, he was drenched in sweat and out of breath looking at his new form in the mirror. He absolutely reeked as well, all the new hair catching sweat and musk. 

Somehow though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. He had always been a real hairy and stinky guy, ever since puberty hit him hard in middle school. Kids had made fun of him then but now they admired and lusted after him. He was a real stud, and he was late for his second workout of the day.

This was my first ever tf story, let me know if you like it! Hopefully they'll only get better from here. If you have ideas for future stories also let me know, I'd love to try out more.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

The Disappointment

AJ kept a strong face, but his palms were slick with sweat. Tonight had been the first game of the season, and he'd choked. His teammates couldn't even look his way, but the Coach kept a glaring eye fixed on him. AJ prayed that the locker room would be short and painless, but he had no idea what he was walking into...

"Not you," Coach put a firm hand on AJ's chest before he could follow the team in.

The quarterback looked to his buddies for backup, but none of them bothered. Whatever lecture Coach had planned, he would have to hear it by himself. Internally, he was already groaning in frustration, but he kept up his trademark exterior and asked, "What's up?"

"You're a disappointment, boy," he growled lowly, pushing a fat finger into AJ's chest.

"What the hell!" AJ burst, raising his voice. He may have screwed up on the field, but he didn't have to listen to this crap, "Screw you! None of that was my f-"

"Don't talk back..." the old man cut in firmly.

AJ's mouth snapped shut. It wasn't something he did consciously, but he was too occupied by the coach's hostile behavior to notice.

"...I dumped too much money into this team for you to just throw the game away!"

The quarterback scoffed. He wanted to yell 'What money?' in the coach's face, but he stayed silent instead. His throat had somehow clamped up. Talking back wasn't possible at the moment, so he just rolled his eyes. AJ didn't really care what the man was talking about. He just wanted to shower, go home, and forget about this whole night!

"Put these on!" Coach spat, throwing a set of folded clothes at him.

AJ gave the worn bundle of clothes a look of disdain. His face was boiling with contempt, but he was more confused than anything. Why had Coach just tossed him these gnarly old rags. The thick blue cotton was stained and saturated with a strong smell of body odor. Whatever nasty freak had worn these before had obviously never washed them or himself.

There was no way in hell AJ would put it on!

"Yes, sir."

It took him a couple seconds to realize those words had come from his mouth. They sounded artificially casual in his throat.

For the first time that night, Coach had a grin on his face, but it wasn't a pleasant one. The old man calmly watched as the quarterback pulled off his muddy jersey and shoulder pads. AJ was of course panicking, but it was limited to his thoughts as his body moved on its own.

"That looks much better," Coach purred with an amused glint in his eye.

The quarterback's mind ran wild, and every muscle tensed up as he tried to break out of this tight grip. From the outside, he looked like he was standing tall, arms flat at his side, feet shoulder with the part inside that crusty old jumpsuit, but that did not match how he felt on the inside! AJ was grinding his teeth in the effort to cry out; his eyes itched from an unflinching glare at the coach; and his butt cheeks repeatedly clenched and unclenched as he tried and failed to move.

Even his face has been commandeered by whatever force had taken over him. His mouth sat in an emotionless pout when all he wanted to do was scream! Even worse, his nose was resigned to taking long even breaths that sucked in the musky stench of the nasty blue coveralls he had on. He was acting as if he were the calmest man in the world, but in reality, he was fuming!

"As I was saying," Coach continued, "You're a disappointment, boy. You understand that?"

"Yes, sir," AJ's voice jumped into action once again, leaving him even more worried.

"No you don't. How could you?" the old man sneered, "I told everyone to forget everything: how I paid a hypnotist to help the team focus on the field. Of course, he really just hypnotized my players to obey me..."

AJ was at a loss for words, which didn't really matter since he couldn't control his mouth. He had a vague memory of Coach giving the team a lecture about focus, but he didn't recall anything about a hypnotist!

"...I paid that hypnotist a couple hundred bucks to give me a team I could control! Did you not notice how different everyone's been acting lately?..."

Thinking back, AJ could remember a distinct shift in the team. It was right after that weird chat from Coach! All of the sudden he and his teammates had insane urges to workout in their free time. It was like their personalities became about watching football tapes and bulking up. They had all been so eager to improve themselves for the team, for Coach, and they talked about it constantly.

All the players seemed to have found a new passion for the sport. Could that have really just been implanted by a hypnotist?

"...It was a waste of money." Coach said definitively, launching into an angry monologue, "That hypnotist was supposed to make my team go to State. The whole lot of you are at my command! I can tell you what to do in your free time! I can tell you what to think, but I can't tell you to go out there and win a game for me? It's bullshit!"

The words stung. AJ had never seen this manipulative and bitter side of the man before.

"Well, I need to get my money's worth out of you, and if all you're good for is mopping floors, then maybe I'll take you off the team and make you a full-time janitor! Maybe that'll teach you to not let me down again, boy."

"Yes, sir," was all AJ could say.

"I'm tired of looking at you!" he scowled, "Get to work!"

"Yes, sir."

AJ gladly retreated from the man. His head was pounding from the beratement and the fact that his will had apparently been broken months ago. AJ wanted nothing more than to escape the crazy football team, but his body had other ideas. His legs carried him over to an idle cleaning cart, where his hands picked up a rag and spray bottle.

The quarterback looked calm and collected on the outside as he wiped down and sterilized the gym equipment. In the well-worn uniform of a custodian, he was easy to overlook, but he was the only one still shuffling around in the gym on a Friday night. One would think he was the epitome of lonely non-achievers.

AJ wanted to yell. He wanted to kick over the bench he was wiping sweat off of and punch a wall. Hell, he'd even settle for a frown, but he knew it was useless. That hypnotist had done a number on him, and he felt he had no control over what he was doing with his body.

The defeated athlete just hoped his teammates wouldn't get a good look at him as they left the locker room. He didn't think he could handle that much humiliation in one night. They would be passing by soon, but the quarterback assured himself that his buddies wouldn't give him any grief. They had to be just as intent on leaving as he was.

"Listen up, boys!" came a loud call from Coach.

Internally, a pang of worry shot through AJ's chest. 'What the hell is he going to do, now?' he thought.

"Before you go, toss all your jerseys to the janitor over there. I want you all to see what happens to players who disappoint the team."

AJ's face burnt red hot, but he wasn't angry anymore: just utterly embarrassed. Before he knew what he was doing, his body dropped the rag and spray bottle and climbed up from his knees. Turning on his heels, he faced the entirety of his football team, and just like that, they were staring at their quarterback in the degrading garb of a janitor.

"What's going on, AJ?" one of his buddies squeaked as he recognized him and the apathetic look on his face.

"That's your star quarterback boys," Coach announced, only twisting their expressions into more disturbed looks of confusion, "Give them a smile AJ."

AJ's stomach dropped as his mouth spread into a toothy grin. It was the same charming smile he'd used on picture day. He wanted to shrivel up and disappear, but his broad shoulders stayed wide and his legs stood firm while his teammates stared at his smiling face in horror.

"He's a reminder of what will happen to you if you disappoint me like he did tonight!" Coach continued, "I'm having him spend his whole weekend scrubbing this gym from top to bottom! He's also doing our laundry, so make sure he gets those dirty football uniforms."

The football team stood, frozen in a mixture of fear and bewilderment. Half of them were still convinced this was a really bad prank.

"Get a move on!" Coach roared, "Hand over your jerseys! I want you each to give him an insult as you do. And AJ, I want you to thank each and everyone of them for it!"

A sudden wave of monotoned "Yes, sir," statements echoed through the gym. Apparently the coach really did have each and every player under his control.

It took awhile. With over forty guys on the team, AJ stood there for thirty minutes accepting their unwashed clothes, quietly muttering fake gratitute to each player that insulted him.

"You are an awful team leader," one said.

"Thank you, sir."

"You never deserved to be quarterback," said another.

"Thank you, sir."

Some insults got more personal, "You smell terrible, like really so bad."

"Thank you, sir."

"You are a pain to be around and a bully," said a freshman, which stung the most.

"Thank you, sir."

Some of the players gave him looks of bewilderment, like they didn't know why they were obeying Coach like this, but some looked at him with disgust, like they truly believed he deserved this punishment. He would have crumpled to the floor if it weren't for the stranglehold the hypnosis had over his body.

It felt like hours, but eventually his teammates had each insulted him and shoved their game clothes into his arms, leaving AJ alone with the coach and a giant hamper of smells. His body was still standing tall, but he couldn't hide the wet streaks running down his cheek.

"You better get a load started," Coach said with an amused giggle, "The waterboy told me it usually takes him a full day to finish laundry."

"Yes, sir," AJ answered, though he wished his mouth would shut up. He hated hearing his voice. He sounded more like a pussy than ever.

"Don't worry, AJ," Coach said, putting a hand on his frozen shoulder, "You might be stuck here all weekend but I won't let you drive yourself crazy. You're going to be happy. You're going to love every second of scrubbing toilets and mopping floors in this empty gym."

AJ's migraine began to lift. The weight and depression of the night was rising off his shoulders. He knew it was the god damn hypnosis, but it felt like a drug. He really was starting to feel happier.

"Sure, you'll be doing some of the nastiest crap in your life, but there's nothing you'd rather be doing, right?"

"Yes, sir," AJ was beginning to mean it.

"You know you deserve it. You are going to replay the game over and over in your head and think about what you did wrong. You aren't going to choke on that field again, boy. Right?"

"Yes, sir."

He was already thinking about the first snap, imagining how he could have been more decisive, more aggressive in that moment.

AJ barely noticed as Coach gave him a slap on the butt. He was lost in concentration, meditating on the game he'd lost a few hours earlier, and he began pushing the squeaky metal hamper in the direction of the laundry room. He no longer felt upset, degraded, or alone. He only felt grateful to Coach for pointing him in the right direction, for giving him this opportunity to think on his mistakes. He really did deserve this time as a janitor.

He might have been exhausted and uncomfortable, wearing that sticky uniform in the hot gym, but he only felt peace as Coach locked the door on his way out. He had an entire weekend of self reflection and menial labor in front of him!

AJ was finally alone and free to do Coach's bidding. His lips didn't smile and his steps didn't have any pep, but inwardly he couldn't be happier. The gym was still ripe with the smell of his jumpsuit and the team's jerseys, but he didn't mind breathing it in. Coach had made him understand that he deserved every second of this nasty punishment.

He was the disappointment after all.

[transform4u]

I’m a gay guy who wants to become the stinkiest, gassiest, straightest guy I can be. Turn me into a total douchebag.

You walk into the locker room after your workout, feeling the satisfying burn of exertion in your muscles. You glance at yourself in the mirror, expecting to see the gradual progress you've been working so hard for. But as you look, your heart sinks. Despite months of dedication—cardio, weights, cutting back on indulgences—the reflection staring back at you isn't what you hoped. Your toned physique remains elusive, still the stubborn love handles and soft patches around your chest. It's disheartening, to say the least

Shaking off the disappointment, you head towards your locker to change, wrapping a towel around yourself. The routine seems familiar and comforting. You reach for your deodorant but your hand comes up empty. Panic flares up as you frantically search through the locker. Your change of clothes, meticulously packed, is nowhere to be found.

You turn around, hoping to find your gym clothes hanging on a nearby hook. They're gone too. Frustration wells up inside you. Could this be one of those annoying pranks by the jocks? You glance around the empty locker room, feeling a chill despite the warmth of your workout.

Then, relief washes over you as you spot a can of Axe body spray and a spare set of gym clothes left on the bench. It's not your preferred brand, but it'll have to do. You check again to make sure you're truly alone, then grab the body spray and clothes with a mix of resignation and determination.

It starts innocuously enough as you pick up the can of Axe body spray, preparing to mask the lingering sweat of your workout. But as the mist envelops you, your nose twitches in surprise. This isn't the usual fragrance of Axe you're familiar with. Instead, it assaults your senses with an overpowering blend of odors that hit you like a wall. It's like stepping into a locker room right after football practice—a cacophony of sweaty bodies, old beer, gaseous farts, and the lingering scent of greasy fast food.

Despite the initial shock, your nostrils widen involuntarily, almost as if they're drawn to absorb more of this pungent aroma. Your mind starts to cloud over, thoughts slowing down as if submerged in a thick fog. Suddenly, a burp escapes your lips, echoing strangely loud in the otherwise silent locker room.

In your mind's eye, you hear the clang of weights hitting the ground hard, accompanied by deep, primal grunts reverberating through the gym. Words like "bro," "dude," and "broseph" echo in your thoughts, drowning out any semblance of coherent thinking. Concepts like math and logic are replaced by a bizarre language that seems strangely familiar yet foreign—Algebrah.

You look down at the oversized gym clothes in your hands, noticing the unmistakable musky smell of sweat emanating from them. Despite their apparent dirtiness, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to put them on. The tank top, stained with sweat, clings to your skin as you slide it over your head, feeling the moisture meld with your flesh, darkening your complexion as sweat drips down your body.

A deep grunt escapes your chest, and you feel your facial muscles shifting. Your jaw widens, your features chisel into a look of contemptuous arrogance. Your brow furrows, eyes narrowing into a perpetual glare that seems to belittle everyone around you. A smug grin plays across your face, never quite reaching your eyes, hinting at a mocking amusement at the expense of others.

As the oversized gym clothes settle on your body, an electric surge courses through you, igniting every fiber of muscle and fat. It's as if a dormant power has been awakened, propelling you into a state of heightened physicality. Your chest expands, muscles rippling and tightening with newfound definition. Abs form like chiseled stone, each crevice pronounced under the fabric. Biceps swell metaphorically, bulging like mountains under the strain of the sleeves. Your body takes on the imposing shape of a competitor, exuding strength and dominance.

Legs balloon with muscle, each movement accentuated by the powerful stride of an athlete. Your Adam's apple protrudes prominently as your voice deepens, resonating with authority and command. Veins pop on your arms and neck, pulsing with the rush of heightened testosterone.

Driven by an overwhelming surge of energy, you can't resist the urge to pose and flex. Every movement feels instinctual, showcasing your newfound physical prowess. A metaphorical cloud hangs over you, casting a shadow on your former kindness and empathy, draining them from your soul.

A fire burns within you now, a primal desire to assert dominance, to claim what you believe is rightfully yours. The notion of superiority takes hold, fueling a sense of entitlement that grows unchecked. You're no longer content to blend into the background; you crave attention and respect, demanding acknowledgment of your prowess.

With each passing moment, you embrace this transformation into an alpha presence. The gentle demeanor you once knew gives way to a boorish, obnoxious attitude. Confidence borders on arrogance, laced with a spiteful edge towards anyone who might challenge your newfound status.

The gym mirrors reflect a figure that commands attention, exuding an aura of power and dominance. You've become a force to be reckoned with, driven by a relentless pursuit of being the best, surpassing every man around you in both physique and attitude.

You feel the change taking hold of you, a sense of entitlement washing over your body. You're no longer just another guy at the gym; you're the alpha male everyone should look up to. When you catch someone staring at you, resentment grows within you. "What are you looking at, fag?" You scream at him with all your might. Your voice echoes throughout the locker room as everyone turns their heads towards the source of that deafening sound.

You chug down your protein shake and feel it slosh around in your gut as a hot protein fart rips through the air like a cannonball shot from hell itself! PFFFFFFFRRRRPPP The laughter that follows is deafening - "HAHAHAUHUHUHUHUH" you dumbly chuckle to yourself.

You scratch your balls, feeling them swell in size as you watch your dick grow long and hard. The smell of cum fills the air around you as gym shorts stain.

As you leave the locker room, instead of entering the gym, you find yourself at a raging frat party! Music blasts from speakers while beer pong tables line one wall and kegs stand ready for more drinking games. Everywhere people are grinding on each other or playing some kind of alcohol-fueled contest. And there's no way anyone can challenge your status now - they're all beneath you!

With a swagger in our step that matches our massive cock size, you make your way through the crowd looking for someone who might catch your eye (or lustful gaze). It doesn't take long before someone does just that - an attractive girl stands alone by one of the pong tables watching everyone else have fun without her…and now it's time to show her who really rules this place!

Before you can make your approach, your best bro Jackson greets you with a beer. You sneer at him and think to yourself, "Fuck, his muscles are huge…no homo." Chugging down the beer in one go, you let out the loudest, most obnoxious buuuuuurrrrrp right in Jackson's face. Your muscles swell even further as your hair begins to bloom from your chest and pits - reeking of sex, beer and sweat.

You feel like a beast - unstoppable and dominant. The smell of sex fills the air around you as people turn their heads away in disgust or lustful desire. As if on cue, another obnoxious fart escapes from your body -"coming out the other end bro!" PFFFFFFFRP The smell is enough to make anyone gag but somehow adds to your newfound confidence instead of diminishing it.

With a roar that could shake mountains apart comes another loud beeeeeeeellllch followed by laughter echoing throughout the room; no one can challenge you now – you rule this place!

As intelligence leaves your body, you feel yourself transforming into an obnoxious 20-year-old frat bro asshole - a fucking douchebag. You start acting like one too: spiking punch bowls with vodka, throwing up gang signs in pictures, making out with random girls at the party and then leaving them hanging when they ask for your number.

With your bros by your side, you decide to pull some pranks on unsuspecting guests. First up is filling all the kegs with pure vodka instead of beer which leads to chaos. Next comes sneaking into the bathroom and replacing every roll of toilet paper with wax paper - resulting in disgusting messes left behind by those who dare use them afterward! Finally, someone suggests stealing one of those inflatable pool floaties shaped like giant beers.

At the party, you spot the hottest, sluttiest girl who looks like she's about to pass out drunk. Letting out another loud buuuuuurrrrp, you grab a beer and start flirting with her.

"Hey there," you say in your most obnoxious bro voice. "You look like someone who needs some help getting home." She giggles drunkenly before nodding her head yes. You lead her over to an empty couch where she collapses onto it with a contented sigh.

Your hair lightens to a shade of blonde as you continue flirting - telling her how hot she is and how much you want to fuck what's left of her brains out (if there even is any). She laughs dumbly at your crude jokes while playing with one of your now massive biceps; apparently size does matter after all!

Chugging down another beer, you feel even more entitled than before. "This girl doesn't deserve someone like me!" You think to yourself as your cock starts growing harder in anticipation for what's about to happen next…

"Hey baby," you say in your most douchebag voice possible. "Wanna go somewhere private where we can get better acquainted?" She nods drunkenly before stumbling after you towards an empty room nearby - clearly looking for a quick fuck without any strings attached.

You take her up to your bedroom - a disgusting bro-pad filled with dirty clothes, empty beer cans and used condoms strewn about. The smell of sweat, sex and stale pizza permeates the air as you close the door behind you.

"Make yourself comfortable," you say in your most obnoxious voice possible before flopping down on the bed next to her. She giggles drunkenly at your crude humor while trying not to gag from the overwhelming stench of testosterone-laced filth surrounding them both.

You drunkly fuck her brains out; she moans like a slut as you flex your massive biceps for her. "Hunter… Hunter fuck me baby!" she pleads between breaths.

She starts working your cock like a dumb little slut, desperate for any kind of attention from this obnoxious frat bro asshole in front of her. As you pass out from exhaustion she slips away without leaving so much as a note or thank you - typical!

Waking up to the smell of beer and sex lingering on both yourself and everything else within reach confirms what has become apparent: You've become the stinkiest, gassiest straightest guy around! A total douchebag through-and-through who doesn't give a shit about some random chick! She was just some slut to bang, and there were plenty of bimbos on campus that hadn't serviced the Hunter's cock. Letting out another gassy fart that fills the air with its putrid stench, you dumbly chuckle to yourself – damn your life was great!

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Economic Hockey Boys Part Two: The Gradual Takeover

__________________

This story has been in the making for a while, and I kind of quit in the middle of it for months. I couldn’t find an ending or the right direction. I hope you all enjoy this version; I think I started over at least two times.

part one here: https://hardwriterdeluxe.tumblr.com/post/727576341242920960/economic-hockey-boys

_______________

Alex’s plan was meticulous, calculated to usurp Max's place both on the team and in the social hierarchy. It began subtly, with Alex hanging around Max more often, always conveniently there to assist or "help" whenever Max needed it. He started emitting a new, strong smell with a musk that seemed to dominate the air around him. The scent was potent, masculine, and it slowly began to take hold in the locker room.

At first, Max didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He was too focused on maintaining his status as captain and the team's star player. But the others started to change in their behavior. They began looking to Alex for guidance, respecting his opinions more and more, while Max found it increasingly difficult to command the same respect.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice, Alex approached Max in the locker room. The space was filled with the pungent scent of sweat and Alex’s overpowering musk. Max was exhausted, sitting on the bench, wiping his face with a towel. Alex, freshly showered but still emanating that musk, sat beside him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You okay, Max?” Alex asked, his tone laced with a mix of concern and something else—something that made Max uneasy.

“Yeah, just tired,” Max replied, trying to muster his usual confidence.

“Maybe you should take it easy,” Alex suggested, lifting his arm to adjust his jersey, exposing his pit. The musk hit Max like a wave, making him feel dizzy and disoriented. “You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard.”

Max nodded, unable to shake the feeling of Alex’s dominance growing stronger with each passing day. The musk seemed to cling to him, invading his senses even after he left the locker room.

Over the next few weeks, the transformation began in earnest. Max started to lose weight, his muscular frame slowly wasting away. His once-bulging biceps shrank, his pecs flattened, and his six-pack abs softened into a smooth, slender torso. His legs, once powerful and thick, became thin and frail. His skin lost its healthy tan, turning pale and almost translucent. His face softened, his jawline losing its sharpness and becoming more delicate and androgynous.

The changes weren’t just physical. Max’s confidence waned as he found it harder to assert himself. The team, too, started to notice but couldn’t quite put their finger on what was happening. Alex, on the other hand, grew more robust. His muscles became more defined, his presence more commanding. He had started taking Max's place not just in performance but in the hearts and minds of their teammates.

Max’s clothes began to change as well. His gear, once snug and highlighting his athletic build, became loose and baggy. His jersey, bearing the captain's insignia, was replaced with a simple tracksuit labeled "WATER BOY" on the back. His locker, once prominently positioned among the team's stars, vanished, leaving him with a small, inconspicuous cubby near the entrance.

“Hey, Maxie, can you grab us some water?” one of the players called out one day. Max looked up, realizing with a start that he had been demoted to a mere water boy. The name "Maxie" stuck, a cruel reminder of his new position. His memories of leading the team, of scoring goals and celebrating victories, began to blur, replaced by feelings of awe towards Alex and secret crushes on the more manly players.

The team quickly took advantage of Maxie's new role. They would make fun of him, teasing him mercilessly. "Hey, Maxie the Service Boy, clean out my locker!" they'd jeer, throwing smelly gear at him, the odor overwhelming his senses. The once-proud captain was now an easy target for their taunts, his weakened state making him unable to fight back.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, the team decided to play a prank on Maxie. At Alex's suggestion, they locked him into a locker filled with reeking gear, the pungent smell of sweat and musk suffocating him. Maxie banged on the door, pleading to be let out, but the boys just laughed and walked away.

Finally, Alex came to "rescue" him. He opened the locker, a look of mock concern on his face. "Having fun, Maxie?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Maxie stumbled out, his eyes watering from the stench. "Please, Alex, I can't take this anymore," he begged, his voice trembling.

Alex's smirk widened as he grabbed Maxie by the collar and pulled him close. "You'll do whatever I say, won't you, Maxie?" he whispered, his breath hot against Maxie's ear.

Maxie nodded, unable to resist the overpowering musk emanating from Alex's body. Alex pushed him down to the floor, standing over him in nothing but his musky socks, jockstrap, and pits reeking from practice. "Show me how much you appreciate your new role," he commanded.

Maxie, his mind clouded by the intoxicating scent, obeyed without question. He serviced Alex, his actions driven by a mix of submission and a strange, overwhelming desire. Alex watched with satisfaction, knowing that he had completely dominated and owned Maxie, at least within the confines of the locker room.

From that night on, Maxie was Alex’s toy, a secret shared between the two of them. The team continued to win, celebrating their new captain and hero, Alex, while Maxie's presence faded into the background. In the quiet moments, away from prying eyes, Maxie and Alex found solace in each other, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Alex had successfully stolen Max’s life, and in doing so, they had found an unexpected connection that neither had anticipated.

Hope you all liked it, comment down below!

[mattbucker]

💪🏼🍑💨 This sweaty stud just finished his workout, as you can tell by his clinging, damp undies. As he enters the locker room, his gaze lands on a quiet, unsuspecting twink, and a devious grin spreads across his face. He knows exactly what he wants - to subject the helpless sub to a torturous experience, overwhelming him with the pungent aroma of his sweaty ass. He leans in close, letting loose a ripper of a fart right in the twink's face, watching as his eyes widen in shock and disgust. But it's only the beginning - he plans to rub his sticky, smelly ass all over the twink’s face, marking him with his scent and leaving him gasping for air after being literally tortured with the horrible mix of sweat and body odor.

What a lucky twink…

[artificial-transmutations]

11:48

Martin was frustrated. It was a late Thursday morning and since some of his classes had been cancelled, he had used the opportunity to throw in an extra training at the gym.

He was really trying to bulk up some muscles and get into bodybuilding, but it was no use. His 21 year old body was thin and athletic, but didn't show any signs of bulking up. He had tried everything, like different training programs, dieting, protein shakes, even some shady hypno files he found on the net, but his muscle mass just wouldn't increase.

He sighed and was about to get dressed, when he noticed discarded piece of clothing under the locker room bench. It was a pair of gym shorts, soaked with sweat, obviously left behind by someone who had worked out before him. Curious, he took them in hand and looked at them more closely. The shorts were light gray and made of cotton-like material, but they seemed very wide, probably belonging to a very fat or very muscular man. They were smelling strongly of man sweat, which made Martin's head swim. He could only think of one thing...

He slowly pulled down his pants and underwear and then started to pull the shorts over his legs. As soon as the first leg was inside, he felt the wet fabric cling to his skin. Part of him felt disgusted by it, but another part was somehow turned on by the experience. He pulled the shorts up further, until his dick touched the wet material of the shorts. They were way too big, just hanging barely from his hips, perhaps only because they were damp and stuck to his skin. The smell was intense and mixed with his own body odor from his workout - although Martin didn't really tend to smell much.

However, it was just turning him on to wear another man's gym shorts, and so, he fished out his stiff cock through one of the leg holes of the shorts and started jerking. Intoxicated by the smell, he pumped like a mad man, his hand slick from pre and the wetness of the pair of shorts. It didn't take long until he erupted in a wide arc over the locker room bench.

Post-Nut-Clarity set in, and Martin finally felt a bit disgusted about him wearing the foreign piece of clothing. He wanted to get out of it quickly and take another shower, just to be sure.

However, as he tried to pull down the shorts, he found himself unable to. It felt stuck, like it was glued to his body. He tried again, this time with more force, but it didn't move. He pushed harder and faster, but the shorts remained firmly attached to his body. After several attempts, he gave up. Perhaps if it had dried up, it would be easier to remove.

So, Martin left the gym, still wearing the foreign shorts and quickly made his way back to his dorm and tried to calm down there. However, even after two more hours, as the shorts had dried down somewhat, he just couldn't remove them. The intense smell had infiltrated his dorm room by now, and, not thinking too clearly, Martin didn't mind the situation all that much. The shorts were comfortable enough and there was no reason to take them off just yet, right? They would come off eventually!

Thinking about it, perhaps he should just go back to the gym. He felt energetic and had nothing more to do for the day, so a quick second session certainly wouldn't hurt.

The training was nice. Martin got into a routine quickly and forgot about time. Only as it was getting dark outside, he realized he should be heading home.

However, there was still the problem with the unremovable shorts. He could take a shower with them on, but then, he would have some soaking wet gym shorts on him that he couldn't get dry very well. The other option was skipping the shower and staying sweaty.

Martin didn't like any of these options very much, but he opted for the latter one. Skipping one shower would probably not hurt too much, and tomorrow he would be able to remove the shorts, he was sure of it.

When Martin woke up the next morning, he was almost late for classes. His bed, no his whole dorm room smelled like him, but he had hardly time to do anything about that. He tugged on his shorts, but they still wouldn't move. So, Martin took his morning piss by pulling his cock through one of the leg holes. It worked, but it was hardly a permanent solution. Still, it was something he could care about this afternoon, now he had to go to class.

In his third course for the day, in the late morning, Martin suddenly felt a churn in his stomach, which rose through his throat quickly. Before Martin could do anything about it, he let loose a loud burp, right in the middle of the lecture hall. Everyone stared at him, even the professor made a short pause before droning on. God, how embarrassing! However, Martin couldn't focus on that, since all of a sudden, his body started growing. His legs and arms suddenly felt much more powerful, as muscles grew in all over them. The t-shirt he was wearing suddenly felt rather constricting and Martin could feel that his biceps were bulging under the sleeves. He looked down and saw that his shorts were way better fitting now as well, with a visible cock print in them. Apparently, his dick had grown as well. However, the worst part were his shoes. The confines of his shoes quickly grew extremely painful, and it felt like his feet were about to burst out of them at any second.

Martin quickly excused himself and ran outside, where he went ahead to peel his shoes and socks off of him. Such a relief. Now his feet could breathe freely again.

He noticed that there were several people staring at him, but he ignored them and walked away quickly towards the gym. Perhaps he'd find some answers there.

However, when he arrived, he changed into a tank top without thinking about it. He was then drawn directly to the weights, starting a workout routine almost automatically. He could see himself in the mirror. He did look impressive! Finally, he could see some progress.

Martin blinked. Was it evening already? He was sweating like crazy, and his muscles felt like they were full of pump. He briefly considered working out some more, but no, something wasn't right here. He returned to his dorm room, not even thinking about taking a shower. He needed to get back on track! This evening, he would repeat the material he missed at his courses today, and tomorrow he would buy new clothes, as his old ones didn't fit him very well now. Luckily, his classes started at noon tomorrow, which gave him plenty of time to go shopping.

The plan sounded good in theory, but it was way harder in practice. Martin tried to concentrate on his studies, but he was distracted easily. Drops of sweat from his brow dropped to his books and wiping away at his forehead only helped momentarily. He needed to remember to drink a lot, if he was still that sweaty after his workout.

To make matters worse, he was constantly aroused. His larger cock leaked precum into his gym shorts constantly, and Martin found himself struggling with the concepts he had to learn. At some point he sighed. It was no use, he needed to let off some steam. He had stroked his cock through his short subconsciously for a while now. Perhaps after release, he would be capable of concentrating better. He fished out his cock through the leg and started thrusting into his hand again. The smell of his arousal mixed with the already strong aroma in his room and brought him over the edge quickly, coming all over his books.

Martin looked at the mess and shrugged mentally. Well, he might as well hit the bed and clean that up tomorrow. No use in trying to study any more today.

The next morning came, but Martin did not think about cleaning up any mess. His bed was slightly damp from his sweat that had continued to transpire out of him during the night.

Still, Martin felt good about himself. His new body was impressive, albeit a bit sweaty. If he had some new clothes, he would look really hot with it!

He briefly considered going to the gym for a quick morning session but decided that had time until the afternoon.

Martin spent the morning shopping for clothes, and he had almost gotten everything, when the clock showed 11:48, the exact same time he put on the pair of shorts for the first time the day before yesterday. Suddenly, Martin let out a really loud burp, even worse than the one yesterday. He had thought that this had been a one-time thing, but again, his body was expanding in all directions. He could see his pecs strain the tank top he was wearing until he heard a ripping sound, as the sheer mass from his body had started ripping the seams. He quickly got out of his large new sneakers that he just bought before his feet started growing again, saving him from a new painful experience.

The new size of his feet was almost comical. Martin was sure he wouldn't find any shoes for them so easily. Looking down on him, he sighed. He looked really good, but most of the stuff he just bought wouldn't fit him anymore. For some reason, this didn't bother Martin much, however. He thought for a moment, before coming to the most obvious conclusion. He should go to the gym.

Exiting the store, he noticed the store clerk opening a window after he was out of the door, but Martin couldn't draw a connection. Finally, he arrived at the gym. He needed to work out shirtless and with bare feet, emitting his more-than-strong stink through the whole gym. He just couldn't stop sweating. Liquid ran over his body, as he was running on the treadmill, soaking the equipment he was using. He also used the weight machines, pumping iron like crazy, and soon enough, his muscles were bulging everywhere.

When he finally stopped, it was late in the night. It was not that he was tired, but he was too hungry to go on. So, Martin decided to visit a fast food restaurant to get something to eat. After ordering a dozen hamburgers, Martin started to stuff himself full. He needed the energy, that much was sure. However, as he was halfway through his meal, a waiter stepped up to him and asked him if it were too much trouble to finish his meal outside. There were other guests, as he put it, that were complaining about his strong odor.

At first, Martin was offended, but then again, as he thought about it, he was kind of proud. It was like his smell was a statement! So, he finished the second six hamburgers on his way home. His bed groaned under his weight, as he drifted to sleep happily.

Martin began the next day by going to the gym, after jerking off into his shorts. Nobody would notice the added bit of moisture anyway, as his shorts were constantly damp with sweat. He started working out early and got into a nice rhythm, until, finally, the clock hit 11:48.

A massive belch roared through the gym, as Martin got even bigger. It was getting ridiculous now. He probably would have to turn sideways to go through doors now, and scratching his back was impossible. His gym shorts were the only piece of clothing fitting him now, and there was little hope of finding shoes or other clothes that could cover his body anymore. Not that he wanted to, anyway. A dumb grin covered his square face. He just loved working on his body and showing it off to anyone strong-willed enough to brave his stench. Even though his size was the very definition of impracticality now, Martin couldn't wait for 11:48 tomorrow.

[jockfootstories]

Chris was the team captain and had a dominating presence on and off the field. Mark, being new to the team, trying his best to fit in, was having a hard time. He was improving on the field but wasn’t improving fast enough for the team captain. As the last few guys were leaving the locker room, Chris called over to him. He sat down opposite Chris as he watched him remove his cleats and socks. Chris planted one bare foot on top of the ball and said,”You’re getting better but you’ve been sucking these last few games. As team captain I’m here for you but also to motivate you to improve.” Mark watched Chris roll the ball some under his foot as he spoke and Chris picked up on it. “You hearing me or are you to enthralled with my powerful feet?”  “Huh?” Mark said jerking his head up. “No, no, I hear you. I’ll get better out there Chris.” Chris grinned at him and quickly lifted his foot up, the bottom an inch from Mark’s face. He could smell the odor of exercise and worn socks emitting from it. “Kiss it,” Chris commanded. Mark hesitated before he heard the senior say more sternly, “Kiss my foot! You can’t seem to keep your eyes off them so kiss the bottom of my foot.” Mark gulped, leaned in, and gave Chris’s bare sole a respecting kiss.  “Get down and kiss my other foot,” he said. Mark lowered himself to the floor and kissed the tops of his captains other foot.  “Good, now lay down face up,” Chris said, rolling the ball away. Mark did as he watched the two meaty bare feet lower down onto his face. They started rubbing his cheeks, his nose, over his mouth as Mark inhaled in the odor of them. “Like the smell of ‘em footboy?” Mark sniffed in harder. Chris pushed his toes down on Mark’s nose and asked,”Is that a yes?” “Yes,” Mark grunted out. Chris rubbed his toes against the other teenager’s nose asking,”This gonna get you to score more?” “Yes,” Mark said. Chris snickered and said,”Good. As you get better, you can smell my feet as a reward. Might even have you smell some of the other guy’s feet too.” Chris kept both soles on his face, kind’ve enjoying this little power trip, then questioned,”You like worshipping feet too?” He felt Mark’s tongue push against one sole as Chris started sliding his foot up and down on it before he felt the tongue push between each of his toes. 

[gassywill]

Locker room fart torture

Jake and Ryan, were professional footballers, known for their skills on the field and their mischievous antics off it. After a thrilling match, they returned to the locker room, their adrenaline still pumping from the game.

As they entered the locker room, they spotted their teammate, Matt, sitting on the bench, lost in thought. With a mischievous grin, Jake and Ryan exchanged knowing glances, silently agreeing to execute their latest prank.

Quickly, they retrieved a gas mask they had hidden in their lockers, along with a length of hose. With practiced ease, they attached the gas mask to Matt's face, stifling his protests before they could even begin.

Confused and unable to see through the mask, Matt struggled against his friends' grasp, but Jake and Ryan held him firmly in place. With a smirk, they aimed the hose towards their asses, preparing to unleash their eggy payload.

As the first fart echoed through the locker room, Matt's eyes widened in horror, realizing what was about to happen. With each subsequent blast of foul odor, he was forced to inhale deeply through the gas mask, the stench overwhelming his senses.

Despite his attempts to escape, Jake and Ryan continued their relentless assault, laughing uproariously as Matt writhed in discomfort. Trapped in a cloud of eggy farts, Matt could do nothing but endure his fate, his protests drowned out by the raucous laughter of his teammates.

Finally, when they had exhausted their supply of gas, Jake and Ryan released Matt from the gas mask, their laughter echoing off the walls of the locker room. Gasping for fresh air and struggling to recover from the assault on his senses, Matt could only shake his head in disbelief at his friends' audacity.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: annoyomous

Story request for @jaysox80

Jake was a regular at the gym every week at least four days out of the week. He never really paid much attention to the other gym goers until one day. He kept noticing one guy that kept looking his direction. When he would look back, the guy would quickly turn away to look another direction. It really didn't bother him much at first. Then it started to get more annoying. It was like every time he was at the gym, so was the guy. He would do the same annoying stare every time. He thought about going to a different gym, but he refused to do that just because of one person.

Things finally came to a head when he found the guy had followed him directly into the locker room. "What's up with you, dude." Jake finally questioned him, wondering what was wrong with him.

"I find you attractive, but was really shy to come speak to you." The guy spoke to Jake, still nervous.

"You could have come up to me, I don't bite. What's your name?" Jake asked back, trying to make the situation less awkward than it already was. "Name is Riley." The guy responded back. "Well, Riley, I am Jake. You have been annoying to me with constant staring." Jake decided to address the issue.

Riley wanted to make it up to him for creating an awkward situation. He honestly would do anything since he found Jake hot and attractive. "Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" He asked back.

Jake had an idea that would make up for it. He got his other phone, which was a TF phone. If the guy was so obsessed with him, he might as well give him an up close experience while getting some use out of him at the same time. "Just close your eyes for four seconds, and I will tell you how you can make up for it." He requested Riley. He watched as he closed his eyes and counted to four. With one quick flash, Riley vanished, and a pair of white socks were on the locker room floor where he once was. He picked up the socks. Just at the time, another person had walked into the locker room. Not wanting to look weird, he went and placed the socks in his gym bag as he was preparing to leave when Riley showed up in the empty locker room.

Once at his car, he pulled out his new socks. "You should thank your obsession for me, now you really get to know me personally, or at least my feet." Jake laughed as he pulled off his shoes and socks. And then put on his new socks. They felt good on his sweaty feet. He then put his shoe back on for the drive home.

Riley thought the guy was hot till he found himself literally wrapped around his feet against his will. He wanted to make up for his shyness, but not like this. He could taste the salty musk of his feet. To make his torture worse, the shoe he was imprisoned in smelled horribly of foot sweat. Even the insoles that he was pressed up against was saturated with the disgusting odor. He mentally begged for Jake to let him go, but seeing all that begging was futile. The guy couldn't hear a single thought coming from him.

Once Jake was fully settled in at home, he took off his socks. A thought came to mind. The guy was really obsessed with him to stalk him every time he went to the gym. He thought he might give him a special reward. He pulled out his cock and placed one sock over it. He began to stroke his cock, thinking about how much his feet might have tortured him on the drive home and with him just walking around in this place. Those thoughts made him horny.

Jake reach his peak and released hot cum into the sock. He thought it was so hot doing so. The sense of power he just exerted on the guy. After removing the sock, he used the other sock to further clean himself off. He began to wonder what he should do with the socks now. The awkward situation that was created was rectified.

Riley was open to a new experience as Jake jerked off in him. He thought he should have been upset over the whole scenario, but feeling that hot cum changed his mind. Maybe being socks might not be too bad. He suddenly found himself human again in Jake's place. "That was fun, being my socks, but I will let you go now." He heard Jake say. At first, he would have wanted that, but now he didn't. He wanted to be close to Jake in that way. "Please, I want to stay your socks." He pleaded to him on his knees.

Jake was surprised. He thought the guy would jump at the fact that he was being released. He was also confused. Had his feet warped his mind in that brief time? He just had to know. "Why would you want that?" He paused so that he could let Riley know just exactly what he is asking for. "Being my socks forever would mean my feet own you. I might even jerk off in you again. You will get all sweaty and smell like my feet. You sure that's what you want?" He asked to clarify his choice.

"YES, I WANT IT." Riley let him know with excitement. He knew that existence would be hard on his mind, but at least this way he could stay with Jake forever and serve a purpose. He saw him point a phone camera at him. There was a flash and he found himself flat on the floor once more. He was a pair of white socks again.

"If it's what you want, you will be my favorite pair of socks. I will wear you to the gym every time and probably almost every day. This will be my last time speaking to you. You are just socks now." Jake spoke to his new favorite pair of socks. This was the first time he had a willing victim. Riley was a comfortable pair of socks, he had to admit.

SIX MONTHS LATER.....

Jake sat in the park enjoying the sun. He took off his shoes to air out his socks. He was amazed at how long the guy had held up. Not a single hole in them even after six months. He had forgotten his name completely. All he remembered was the guy wanted to be his socks forever, and he granted his wish. It was a win-win for him, though. He managed to get rid of his stalker and gain a strong pair of socks at the same time. No complaints there. Even his socks weren't complaining. It's what it wanted. They both couldn't be much happier than this.

[ultram0th]

James Ellis walked into the locker room, his blue tank top drenched with sweat from his rigorous workout. He wiped at his brow and went to his locker so that he could change out of his sweaty clothes and rinse off.

“Hey James,” one of his fellow gym goers, Adam, greeted the 40 year old fitness influencer. He was also changing out of his sweaty gym clothes, done with his workout for the day.

The older man just nodded in his direction, not too keen on being in the locker room with Adam at the same time. Adam was a nice guy, and James had no issue at all with gay people, but he didn’t like the lustful stares that the younger man would give him every so often. His hungry eyes would always find a way to travel up and down the stud’s chiseled chest or seek out his toned butt whenever he’d perform squats. Still, wanting to wash off the musky odor from his body, James wrapped his towel tightly around his waist before shucking his shorts and underwear.

James worked out and he even took pictures of his fit body to inspire others to follow his regimen, but he didn’t work out to have other men ogle him like he was a piece of meat. He hurried over to the shower room, oblivious to Adam’s devious smirk.

The shower room was one of the older, military-style ones where it was just an open room with the shower heads lining the walls. Three other men where already in there when James arrived, each one facing his respective shower head so as to offer the illusion of privacy.

James placed his towel on the rack and walked nude over to one of the shower heads and twisted it, releasing the spray of hot water that felt good on his smooth skin. He went about washing himself, following the unspoken rule of facing his own shower head. However, he bit down on the inside of his cheek in irritation when the shower head literally right next to him turned on, and he didn’t need to look over to know who it was.

Adam began to wash himself next to the fitness influencer, not even being stealth about sneaking a glance here and there, his smirk plastered onto his face. “Showtime,” he whispered.

“What?” James almost barked, incredibly aggravated that the guy would choose to shower right next to him. He shook it off and started to lather up his toned muscles with his body wash, the suds clinging to every contour of his shredded body.

There was a slight pressure in his groin, and the older man cocked his eyebrow as he looked down at himself. He suppressed a gasp so as not to bring attention to him and his hardening cock. For seemingly no reason at all, James was stunned to watch his cock inflate to its full seven and a half inches, sticking straight out in front of him as he showered in a room with other men. His hard cock bobbed in front of him and his first instinct was to immediately cover himself.

But he couldn’t do it.

James turned red with a mixture of embarrassment and horror over the fact that no matter how much he mentally told his hands to shield his erect member from view, they simply continued to lather up his muscles with soap. He strained and grit his teeth as he tried to push through whatever odd paralysis he was experiencing.

The horrified man felt his lips part and his heart fell when he let out a low moan. “Ooohhh,” he moaned, his deep voice echoing out in the tiled room.

He saw from his peripherals that Adam was now full on watching him, and for some reason, that knowledge made his heart speed up excitedly.

The older stud winced internally as he felt his body turn around on its own accord, making him face outwards and present his erect cock to the rest of the room. His beefy hands began to stroke his sudsy chest, slowly feeling up each curvature of his muscles.

“Ooohhh yeah,” he moaned again, louder this time.

The the other men in the shower, confused as to what was happening, each turned around. One of them looked weirded out and left, disgust written all over his face. However, the remaining two only nodded in approval and hungrily watched as an erect James couldn’t stop running his hands all over his soapy chest.

James was screaming inside of his mind, especially when his fingers started to pinch and tug on his nipples. The action sent jolts of electricity straight to his hard cock, making it twitch wildly as he moaned loudly, unable to stop himself. He had no idea why this was happening, but based on the hungry stares of Adam and the other men, he knew that it was definitely a sight to see.

The mortified man felt himself turn back around, but his relief was short-lived when he started to thrust his bubblebutt outwards, trying to seductively present it to the small crowd. He felt his hips wiggle as he bounced his cheeks for the cheering men, screaming the whole time in the inside, but all that came out of his mouth were the lustful moans.

“Finger yourself!” one of the one grunted.

No! No! James pleaded with himself, especially when his head turned and he winked playfully at the men.

With a smack, both of James’s hands slapped down onto his large cheeks. He kneaded them, his fingers sinking into the abundant flesh before spreading them apart to show off his tight hole to the room. The older man was convinced that his humiliation couldn’t get any worse, but then, without any warning whatsoever, one of his thick fingers shoved itself inside his hole.

“OOooooOOHhh!” James squealed wildly with pleasure. He pressed his face against the tiled wall as his knees grew weak simply from playing with his ass. After a little bit of time, the horrified man shoved in another finger, and another, pumping them in and out.

James’s pleas with himself to stop were halted as his ass brought him immense waves of pleasure. The older man had never had anything shoved up his ass before, but now his hole was bringing him pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before in his entire 40 years. His moans were ringing out in the shower and they were so loud that he was certain people on the gym floor could hear him— but he didn’t care at the moment. His cock was twitching like crazy and his free hand found its way back to his nipples, roughly tugging on them.

The dual sensations of having his ass played with and his chest worked left the stunned man a moaning mess of hormones. Pleasure waves suffocated him and his humiliation was momentarily forgotten when he spasmed, shooting loads of cum all over the tiled wall in from of him from his untouched cock.

The men cheered as James came before returning to washing themselves, acting almost as if nothing had happened.

It took James a good minute to recover from blowing the biggest load of his life, his muscles still twitching with orgasmic power. He rubbed at his face, not quite grasping the concept that he was in control of his body again. He was so confused as what the fuck had just happened to him. He’d been showering and then all of a sudden, he’d had absolutely no control over his actions and he’d came from just fingering himself. His face was bright red with humiliation over his actions… and shame over how much he’d liked it. His ass still tingled with want, and it took all of his self control to not shove a few fingers up there again.

“Thanks for the show, James,” Adam said as he clapped the silent man on the shoulder. “I can’t wait for tomorrow’s.”

James felt his stomach drop at the thought of replaying what had just happened. The blood drained from his face as he envisioned himself pleasuring himself in front of men again, fingering his hole while tugging on his nipples like some depraved freak. 

Worse was that James could feel a stirring in his cock at the thought, a small part of himself looking forward to it.

[stinkfacestories]

The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.

The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.

He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.

He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.

The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.

"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.

Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts." 

You rolled your eyes. "Not really."

"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.

"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"

"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."

You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".

"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"

He  pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.

"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.

He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.

"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”

"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.

"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"

"No!" You coughed.

"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.

"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.

"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.

"Fuck...no," you say.

He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.

"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"

"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.

"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.

"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"

"They're funny!"

"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"

"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."

"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"

"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."

He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"

"Oh god no!"

"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.

"No, no, I can't."

"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.

"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black. 

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.

“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.

"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.

"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.

"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"

He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.

"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "

You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."

"It was a lot. It was," he said.

He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.

You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."

He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.

"Now you" he said 

You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.

"What the hell. Do it"

"I don't know if I can," you said.

"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.

"I can't."

"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"

"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."

"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to.  Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.

"Your brother's coming over?"

"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."

"Wait..."

"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."

"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.

"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."

"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"

"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."

You laughed.

All you could do was laugh.

[kylecorbeau]

I've been asked for the link to my post of the fan sequel I wrote to Jack's Filthy Ass. I couldn't find my original post of this story, so I'm reuploading it.

Liam's Filthy Mouth

By Kyle Corbeau on Tumblr

A fan-sequel to Jack's Filthy Ass by writinggross.

[Contains: M/M, Face-farting, hypnosis, Dom/sub, rimming, scat, scat consumption, Non-con.]

————————————————————————

I have a hard time not thinking about what happened with Jack. It's only been four days and I still panic whenever I hear someone moving in the hall.

But tonight, I know I have reason to panic. My mom and her boyfriend have gone out of town for TEN DAYS over spring break, leaving me here alone with Jack's filthy ass. Just as I anticipate, the doorknob to my bedroom jiggles. I take a shaky, deep breath as I remind myself that I obsessive-compulsively locked the door when I got home to an empty house.

Then I hear a sound that makes my blood turn ice cold.

The jingling of keys.

I whine in my throat as I shake my head in denial, but of course it's just an involuntary reaction, not preventative one. The door lock clicks and the handle turns. I'm suddenly wishing I'd worn more to bed than a skin-tight white tank. Jack's already in the doorway, smirking mischievously at me where I'm hiding under the covers.

The only thing he's wearing is a pair of horribly stained once-white briefs and pair of sweat socks than sound a bit like sponges when he takes a step. I can smell how foul he is from here, but unfortunately, i know from experience that the closer he gets, the more heinous the stench will become.

Then i realize what he has in his hand. It's an overnight bag.

"'Sup, Liam. I figure we can skip all the bullshit if I make this simple. You know what I need. You know I'm going to get it. I can wrestle you with the chains and shackles I have in the bag and do this the hard way, or you can remember that I can still tell everyone at school that you're my little ass-bitch."

I just nod at first, conceding that I can't stop him. He saunters over victoriously, sets the bag down next to my bed and sits down next to me on the mattress as I scoot over to give him as much room as possible. He chuckles, evilly, in my ears, though I'm sure it's probably his normal gentle laugh and I'm just biased.

Justifiably biased.

He sprawls out on the bed, leaving me barely any room on the mattress, but I'm backed against the wall now and he scoots himself ever closer, his rank stink making me shudder in disgust and fear. Soon, he's laying right up against me, pulling the blankets out of the way, shedding the last of my shield as he pushes his big gut and massive thighs against me, wrapping his sausage-like arms around my shoulders and head as I whimper. His juicy, ripe pits are right by my face and his ass stink of rotten shit is permeating my entire bed.  He lifts an arm and pushes my face into his armpit as I start to shed tears. One huge meaty leg is wrapped over mine and he kisses my hair softly as he rubs my face hard back and forth in his armpit. No locker room has ever smelled this bad. The smell is unfathomable and it's absolutely nothing compared to where my face and mouth will be... Fuck... My poor tongue is going to be eaten alive by his rotten, gungey hole.

I realize my body is shaking as I sob and he's laughing as he smears my face in his armpit. "Just get used to it, ya wuss. I have a week and a half to desensitize you. Once you realize your place in life is beneath a filthy fat slob, you're going to be begging me to do anything and everything I want to you. And we start like this."

Jack reaches into his briefs and pulls out a wadded up cloth item. It's one of his ratty white wifebeaters, but it's covered in greenish brown smears and completely drenched in buttcrack sweat and the familiar odor of his ass-juice. He lifts it to my face and I turn away in panic, but he smashes the putrid shirt against my face and I inhale from surprise. He holds it there like a toxic gas mask over my face and says, "Don't worry, Liam. You'll love that smell soon enough. Hell, if you want to let everyone at school know you fell in love with my filthy ass over vacation, I guess I can put up with people knowing about us. I can't imagine you just passing me in the hall like you usually do once I'm done with you."

"Jack," I say through the ass-juice-drenched shirt as I gag, "Isn't this just about you rubbing one out?"

"Remember my science project a couple of weeks ago?"

"You want to plant trees! You and every hippie in history!"

"No, Baby Boy. My project was on replenishable resources. This isn't about rubbing one out. This is about rubbing one out as many times as I want for as long as I want to. ...You like that nickname, Liam? Baby Boy?"

I sob harder when I realize he's planning to condition me to be his ass-bitch potentially for the rest of our lives and as I begin again to soak the shit-stained shirt with my tears, I figure out the nickname.

He's calling me 'Baby Boy' because his vile odor makes my eyes water.

Finally, he moves to put down the shitty wifebeater and starts peeling my own tank top off of my chest. As he pulls it up over my face, I'm suddenly met with a passionate kiss, his unwashed mouth and tongue that's probably got food from last week stuck to it, pushed flush against my own as he slobbers into my mouth and licks the back of my throat. I struggle for the first few seconds but realize there's no point. He rolls over on top on me, surrounding and crushing me with his massive form and ripe and rancid stench. He sloppily slobbers on my face in what I could only call an act of claiming.

Then, he takes his nasty wifebeater, puts in it his underwear, and at first I think hes wiping, but instead, he's cramming it into...

Shit!

He's stuffing that shirt inside his nasty asshole!

It isn't long before he's unwadding the fetid garment and forcefully putting it on me.

The next thing I know, he's getting me positioned on the bed. I can't fight anymore. Not even a little. Something in me broke when he put that tainted tank on me.

So as he mounts my head and says, "Open up, Baby Boy... my pretty little ass-bitch... Lick inside me. You know you love it!", all i can do is physically obey, opening my jaw, sucking and tonguing his rotten insides. They taste like rotting meat that's been out in the sun for a week, and his hole clamps tight around my tongue, making me whine. I can hear him talking, but I can't consciously understand everything. Something about counting and relaxing and feeling his stink saturating my body with pleasure.

The last words I hear before I fade into unconsciousness are about needing his ass stink to get hard.

When I wake up, I'm still wearing the shit-tank and Jack's shit-smeared briefs are strapped to my face like a dust mask. I look at my clock. It's been ten hours. There's a recording of Jack's voice soothingly encouraging peaceful thoughts when I smell him and telling me how it feels so good to crave his filthy ass.

I roll my eyes at the stupidity. Hypnosis? Really? Jack's so desperate to make me his ass-worshiping bitch that he's turning to phoney pseudoscience?

I chew on the browned briefs for a moment, feeling better when I suck on the flavor.

Fuck. I'm keeping these. He's got plenty of filthy briefs and he can always make more.

I get out of bed, stuffing the shit-stained briefs all the way into my mouth and moaning as my morning wood throbs. I walk into the hallway, looking for Jack to tell him what a fucking idiot he is for thinking he could hypnotize me into wanting his foul fat ass, but when I don't see him in his room, I call out to him.

"Yo, Jack? Where you at?"

I hear his voice from his en suite bathroom shout, "I'm taking a dump!"

I perk up at the prospect, briskly heading for his bathroom door. "Mind if I join?"

He laughs his ass off before telling me threateningly that I'll regret if I don't. I quickly open the door, rush to him and kneel. He smirks down at me as I jerk away from the fetid odor and frown with visceral nausea until he takes my head in his hand and pulls me forward. "Sniff my shit, bitch. I'm making your breakfast."

I'm utterly revolted, on the verge of vomiting, but as I autonomically obey him and sniff the toilet from between his legs, my forehead pressed against his junk, euphoria and serenity wash over me and I hum in pleasure as I go boneless against his lap.

I've completely forgotten what I was going to say to him and somewhere in my mind, I realize what he meant about breakfast and my stomach growls.

He finishes shitting in the toilet, then he gets up and turns his unwiped ass towards me. The smell is worse than a port-a-potty and the stink is like rotten eggs saturating decomposing meat infused with sewage fumes.

I sniff deeply, my nose touching his crack as I fight my flight instinct. I want to run to somewhere safe and never witness this again.

But this is my safe place. I should be running to the very thing that engenders my panic.

"My ass isn't going to lick itself clean!" Jack growls at me.

My tongue dives in before I can stop it and I slurp and swallow the smears of fetid refuse until his ass is depressingly clean.

Then, I come out of myself and realize what just happened.

"YOU FUCKING NASTY BASTARD!" I scream, licking the revolting shit from my lips as he looks back at me in shock.

Then, he's laughing.

He's laughing hard.

Then he says two words that freeze my entire body.

"Ass Master."

I cant move. I can't move at all!

He backs up a few inches, reaches back to roughly grip my hair in his fat fist and shoves my face between his cheeks.

"Suck my pucker!" Jack commands, and without my consent, my body obeys.

As my mouth wraps around his hole, sealing my face to his obscenely disgusting insides a long greasy fart hot as the sun is pumped into my lungs.

Then I feel it on my tongue.

It's hot, it's wet and it's worse than I ever imagined.

The clumps of shit pop out one at a time, filling my mouth, and Jack says, "Keep sucking my hole, mash my shit around in your mouth, swallow it and hate it even though you need it.

I feel like I'm going to vomit, to pass out or even maybe die, but as I use my tongue to press Jack's shit against every surface in my mouth, my morning wood rages and leaks.

I smell the shit from inside my mouth, the putrid fumes traveling up from the back of my throat, and even though I can't move my body away, I cry, tears streaming against the inside of Jack's asscrack as I sob, making him moan loudly.

When I swallow it, gulping the lumps down my throat, I cum hard and shoot my copious load all over the tile, but the sounds I make are anything but euphoric. With my mouth still sealed to his hole, I scream in visceral horror.

Jack sighs in pleasure and says, "Relax, Baby Boy. Just be yourself." I can suddenly move of my own accord and I stumble backwards on the bathroom floor. He turns around with hunger in his eyes. "Thank me for making you breakfast, bitch."

I can choose what to say now. I feel it. "Is this really happening?" I ask as I shake in terror.

His eyes darken and I realize that wasn't the right thing to say.

"I'm sorry, Jack. Th– thank you... I hate you...."

Jack pats me on the head affectionately with an evil smirk. "You're getting a full load for lunch. I'll let you know when I need to piss. Go cry on my bed until I'm ready to collar and fuck you."

I can't help it.

By my own choosing, I lean forward and reverently kiss his filthy, musky balls.

And he lets me.

————————————————————————

After Jack enjoyed my first display of genuine admiration and affection, he shaved my shoulder-length hair down to a near-bald buzzcut, shaved my entire body completely smooth, had me rinse all the haircut debris away in the shower pissed all over me and down my throat, occasionally smearing his foul, acrid piss over my lips with his fat dick like he was putting my chapstick on for me.

Then, he declared that this is the first day of my new life.

Given our situation and encounters thus far, I expected words like that to be sadistic, threatening, mocking or some combination.

They weren't. He seemed genuinely happy, not just for himself but for me.

I'm just now realizing just how much this really is a new phase of life.

I'm walking out of my possible-stepbrother's/hopefully-boyfriend's bathroom naked after participating in things I never imagined while he walks with me wearing only the track pants he had on when he started this insanity.

This is the first time I've actually looked around Jack's room. Until today, I've been avoiding him as much as possible, and when I passed through through it from the hall to his ensuite bathroom less than two hours ago, I had single-minded focus and only observed enough of my surroundings to see which way his bathroom is.

Now, I look around in stunned silence as I realize how long he's been planning all of this: attacking me and riding my unwilling face, threatening me into submission then cuddling and kissing me as if he loves me – all before using some kind of aggressive brainwashing on me to make me his unwilling but devoted autonomically obedient, fart-addicted, shit-noshing slave.

We've known each other for less than two weeks and about ten days ago, my mom and I moved in to live with her boyfriend and her boyfriend's son, Jack.

As far as I knew, Jack had barely tolerated me.

Which is why it strikes me as odd that my favorite possessions (which were mysteriously lost in the move) are arranged throughout Jack's room as if they're his.

...Wait...

...NO!

It's obvious the totality of this room's books, trinkets and miscellaneous items are from two very different people!

Jack's room looks as if we both live in it!

He planned this whole disgusting coercive seduction thing at least ten days ago, only a few days after we first met.

Possibly, the day we met.

I'm suddenly enraged! I feel like I'm going to belt out a primal, wordless scream at the top of my lungs, but Jack's thick arm curls around my waist and my anger drains away in a heartbeat as he kisses the top of my head.

"Cheer up, Baby Boy," Jack says with encouraging mirth. "You'll love living in here! It's over three times bigger than your old room, which means we have room for the fridges, sofa, spare bed, my reading chair and your new desk. Most importantly, we have a <i>private</i> bathroom, there's fantastic soundproofing and, after fourteen years with me in it, my personal musk is soaked into every inch of this very lucky room."

I laugh softly and playfully elbow Jack in his huge, studly gut before dropping to my knees in front of him and leaning forward. For a few moments, I let him think I'm leaning towards his exposed cock, then I abruptly bend down and take a big whiff of the carpet.

"Yep! This inch passes inspection!" I say as I try to lighten my own mood

He snorts loudly before falling down in a fit of (feigned?) hysterical laughter and with suspicious accuracy, he lands on top of me, his knees straddling mine, his fat belly weighing down on my back and his hands gripping my hips. He roughly pulls my hips backwards to grind his hard-on against my ass.

I shiver in revulsion, and for once, it has nothing to do with his heinous hygiene, his disgusting habits, his dominating-my-face-with-his-ass-and-anything-that-comes-out-of-it-fetish , or even the fact that almost all of our interactions have been when he forcibly dominated me, my will be damned.

I'm actually starting to like him, despite all of that.

After the ten hours of hypnotic bullshit, I'm starting to like him because of it.

I even like him enough to eagerly let him fuck me.

My instinctive revulsion is entirely because I am (was?) straight and having anyone's dick touch me at all viscerally grosses me out.

He groans happily above me and says, "Don't worry, Baby Boy. You're gonna get lucky too. Maybe right now..."

I start to lose control of my body as my own thoughts are disregarded and unheard. That's happened a lot this morning and at this point, I know it's more fun to enjoy hating it than to hate hating it.

"Fuuuuck!" I groan in a mix of anguish and euphoria. "Go fuck yourself, you fat, filthy, vile asshole! Your personality is even more shitty than your actual shit!"

Jack keeps a steel-strong grip on my hip as I hear the slide of his track pants against his skin.

"You get away with talking like that to me once," he growls through gritted teeth. "Would you care to rephrase?"

I keen in my throat as I feel his bare dick thumping against my asscheek.

"Yeah, Jack, I would. What I meant to say is I'm jealous of your bedroom. I wish you were inside me every night and I can't wait for you to soak your personal musk into every inch of me, because you're hot as fuck and I want everyone I meet to know I belong to you."

Jack slaps my ass so hard it feels like a punch and his dick begins sliding back and forth between my asscheeks, grazing across my pucker on every thrust. I can't tell if he's erotically teasing me or silently threatening me.

"Anything else, Baby Boy?"

My hips start grinding backwards against him, and to my shame, it's not because of the hypnosis.

"Y-yeah, Jack...  Look I...  I love you. I love you and I want you to own me use me and be my boyfriend. Please, Jack. I need you."

I'm about to start crying again until I feel him lean over me and sensually press his lips against my jaw from behind.

"Yeah, bitch," he whispers in sadistic apathy. "You do need me. You need me to own you, control you and use you. I'll always give you what you need, Baby Boy. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

The words sting at first (more from Jack's tone than their significance), but then Jack hugs me from behind and rubs the head of his thick, filthy cock against my hole, nearly breaching it. I relax happily, knowing this is my place and suddenly realizing he implied we're dating.

"Thanks, Jack..." I mumble with genuine gratitude. "I'll give you everything you need and anything I have to give."

He breathes hard against my neck as half an inch of his cock pushes past the ring of muscle. "Yeah. I know you will, Liam," says in a soft, loving tone. Then he kisses my neck, lifts away from me and helps me off the floor. I'm startled when I find myself launched through the air, but giddy when I land on Jack's bed.

The steel chain he locks in place with a matching padlock has a rusty iron finish, and just after the lock audibly clicks, we both heave joyful sighs of relief.

[martiny0rk]

Becareful Mamas

requested: could you do something about a pregnant reader going to jamie’s games, and maybe he is like super protective or something over reader cause she’s like 7 or 8 months and he just loves to fuss over her being i’m comfortable and everything?

Word Count:704

Typically, Jamie was a calm and easy going guy when it comes to you coming to his games as he knew you were a strong independent woman who could take care of herself, but now that you were pregnant it made him worry about you scared something bad would happened at the game while hes on the ice.

You also being nearly eight months pregnant made him anxious when you told him you would be coming to his last game before playoffs as you didnt want to put that stress on him.

"Jamie you can't hold me hostage at home I'm pregnant not a sick victorian child." you spoke looking at the canadian standing in the doorway as you got dressed.

"Princess" He looks down at your very pregnant figure. "you know i want you to be there. it's just not safe for you honey."

Jamie and you have been together since he first got drafted to the ducks so you were able to get to know his teammates while he did and had seen nearly all of his home games.

You still went to support them even when Jamie got injured as they were like family to you too. The organization and fans knew you and respected you as they knew you weren't some chick just with him to get with trevor.

"Im safe there just as much as i am at home" you say looking at him who has moved to sit on the bed as you put on one of the duck crewnecks that jamie had with plain pair of leggings as none of your jeans fit.

"I just don't want her or you getting hurt while i'm there" Jamie said knowing that he will be the one to take you there so you would have to sit through the warms ups and everything.

~~~

You stayed as lowkey as possible so you wouldn't bring attention to yourself. Jamie had made sure you were comfortable as He had made you sit near where the players stayed so he could keep a close eye on you.

As He help you go down the bleachers stairs before he had to go on the ice to make sure you didn’t fall he spoke softly saying a “be careful mamas.” Before planting a kiss on your head going to where he was suppose to be.

Every moment He wasn't on the ice He was making sure you were comfortable and being very protective if someone got to close to you or said something that he didn't like.

~~~~

Jamie removes his helmet when he steps down from the funnel all sweaty ready to get home and see you to make sure everything is alright going into the locker room to start untying his skates.

He saw you standing near the locker room so he knew you were alright as he started to remove the rest of the gear off of his sweaty body.

Jamie knew the smell of odor cause you to get sick so he makes sure to shower and put on a pair of clothes he brought with him.

Since He never had to do media or anything like that. He gave trevor a hug before saying bye to the rest before making his way out to you.

You were leaned up against the wall looking at your phone holding your back as it started to hurt.

Jamie made his way over to you wrapping his arms around you to which you put your phone in your pocket turning in his arms giving him a big kiss.

"ready to go home jam?" you said looking up at him you could tell by his eyes that he was tired you gently moved your hand up and down his back.

Jamie nods moving his arms from around you taking your hand into his larger one pulling his keys out of his pocket right after doing so he picks you up bridal style knowing your feet is probably swollen before you could protest he said.

"no matter how tired i am you and our little girl will always come first" Jamie spoke in a calm voice which made your heart melt and you kissed his cheek.