#malebodies

[celebtf]

Fiyero And The Wizard

The Emerald City glimmered in the fading sunlight as Fiyero sat by the window of the train, his excitement nearly tangible. He had received a personal invitation to meet the Wizard of Oz himself, a rare and extraordinary honor. Elphaba had warned him against trusting the Wizard, but curiosity and hope for answers had driven him to accept the invitation. Perhaps the Wizard wanted to make amends for the chaos he had caused in their lives.

The train screeched to a halt at the station, and Fiyero stepped off, greeted by the bustling streets of the Emerald City. He marveled at the shimmering green buildings and the vibrant crowd as he made his way to the Wizard’s castle. The guards at the entrance stepped aside without question, and the massive doors creaked open, revealing a grand, candlelit hall.

At the far end, the Wizard stood, draped in his signature robes. His gloved hands clutched an ancient, ornate book—the Grimmery, a tome of forbidden magic.

“Fiyero!” the Wizard greeted with a disarming smile. “It is an honor to finally meet you face to face.”

Fiyero approached cautiously, bowing slightly out of respect. “The honor is mine, sir. But why have you called me here?”

The Wizard’s smile grew, though something unsettling lingered in his eyes. “You have a charm about you, Fiyero. A natural charisma that I believe the people of Oz need... desperately.” He gestured to the Grimmery. “I have a proposition. Join me, and together we can bring order to this land. We can rid it of chaos and those who threaten our way of life. Starting with Elphaba.”

Fiyero’s chest tightened at the mention of her name. He shook his head firmly. “I won’t betray her. I won’t be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

The Wizard sighed, his expression darkening. “I had hoped you would see reason. No matter. There are other ways.”

Before Fiyero could react, a high-pitched screech echoed through the hall. A winged monkey darted out from the shadows—Chesery, the Wizard’s loyal servant. In a blur, Chesery pounced, restraining Fiyero with alarming strength. The monkey’s claws dug into his arms as ropes appeared, binding him tightly.

“What are you doing?” Fiyero struggled, his voice laced with panic.

The Wizard ignored him, opening the Grimmery and flipping through its pages. Ancient symbols glowed on the parchment, and his voice grew low and guttural as he began to chant in an unfamiliar language

Fiyero watched in horror as the Wizard’s transformation unfolded before his eyes. The older man’s features shifted and smoothed like clay under an unseen sculptor’s hands. Wrinkles faded, leaving a youthful glow, and his once-proud frame shrank slightly, adjusting to match Fiyero’s lean build. His gray hair lightened in streaks, cascading into shades of rich brown and golden blond.

As the glow of magic dissipated, the Wizard stepped back from the Grimmery, his face now identical to Fiyero’s. It was perfect—eerily perfect. The bound prince couldn’t look away, dread curdling in his stomach as if he were staring into a twisted reflection of himself.

The Wizard opened his eyes, catching his new appearance in the grand mirror before him. He let out a low chuckle, his voice now Fiyero’s smooth, confident tone. “Oh, this... this is exquisite.”

He tilted his head to one side, examining himself with almost theatrical enthusiasm. Running a hand over his jawline, he smirked. “Such symmetry. No wonder the ladies—and perhaps even a few gentlemen—fall over themselves for you. This face alone is enough to make kingdoms bow, isn’t it?”

Fiyero snarled, straining against the ropes. “Stop this! You’ll never get away with it!”

“Oh, but I already have,” the Wizard shot back, not even sparing him a glance. He was too busy admiring his reflection, tracing his cheekbones and brushing his fingers over his lips. “And these lips...” He let out an exaggerated sigh, puckering them playfully. “So... kissable. Do you practice this in the mirror, Fiyero? Or does it just come naturally?”

He turned sharply, striding toward Fiyero with newfound grace. His movements were fluid, confident—a predator who knew his prey was already caught. Standing inches away, he gestured to his chest with a flourish. “And look at this,” he said, tugging his collar slightly to reveal the firm definition beneath his shirt. “Your body’s built like it’s been sculpted by the gods themselves. How do you find the time to stay this... perfect?”

Fiyero clenched his jaw, refusing to give the Wizard the satisfaction of a response.

But the Wizard was far from finished. His hands traveled down to his stomach, where he gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, my! These abs!” He patted his stomach mockingly, then flexed, his smirk widening as he felt the firm ridges under his fingertips. “I didn’t realize you were hiding such a masterpiece under those princely clothes. No wonder Elphaba can’t resist you. Who could?”

Fiyero’s struggles grew more frantic. “You’re a coward, hiding behind my face! You’ll never be me!”

The Wizard barked a laugh, stepping back into the light to examine his thighs and legs. “Oh, Fiyero, I don’t need to ‘be’ you. I only need to wear you.” He leaned down, running his hands over his thighs and giving another exaggerated whistle. “And these legs. Strong. Sturdy. Built for running... or perhaps something else entirely?” He waggled his eyebrows, his mocking laugh echoing through the hall.

“You’re disgusting,” Fiyero spat, his voice shaking with fury.

“Disgusting?” The Wizard tilted his head in mock confusion before grinning slyly. “No, my dear boy. Disgusting is what I’d call letting a body like this go to waste. But don’t worry. I’ll make the most of it.”

He turned his attention to his backside, giving it an exaggerated pat. “And this,” he said, smirking as he glanced over his shoulder. “Well, let’s just say it’ll be the talk of the Emerald City soon enough. I’m sure even the guards will be doing double-takes. Tell me, Fiyero—have you ever noticed how perfectly this uniform frames... everything?”

Fiyero seethed, his face burning with anger and humiliation.

The Wizard bent closer, his voice dropping to a low, taunting whisper. “It must feel awful, doesn’t it? Watching yourself—your body, your charm—become mine. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” He stood upright again, laughing softly. “And the best part? When I’m done, the world will thank me for it. They’ll love me. They’ll love you.”

Turning back to the mirror, the Wizard struck a dramatic pose, adjusting the collar of his blue and gold outfit with a flourish. “Well, Fiyero, it’s been delightful getting to know myself.” He laughed at his own joke. “But I think it’s time for you to disappear.”

“Chesery!” he called, his tone snapping into command. The winged monkey appeared from the shadows, bowing low. “Take him away. Somewhere no one will ever find him. Somewhere he’ll have plenty of time to think about just how perfect I look.”

Chesery seized Fiyero, dragging him toward the shadows despite his desperate struggles.

The Wizard—now Fiyero—watched them go, his smirk widening as the real Fiyero’s protests faded into silence. Turning to the mirror one last time, he admired his stolen reflection, running a hand over his hair and tilting his head with a grin.

“Oz,” he whispered to himself, his voice laced with triumph. “You’re about to meet your perfect hero.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the castle doors, radiating the effortless charm that only Fiyero Tiggular could muster.

There would be no resistance, no rebellion. No happy ending for anyone.

He had succeeded.

And the world of Oz would never be the same.

[oleksandrbalbyshev]

In my new painting «Red Guy with Color Spots» is a personal exploration of what it means to be a man today. In this painting, I try to break free from the traditional ideas of masculinity that feel too rigid and outdated. The male body, often either glorified or hidden, becomes vulnerable here, layered with vibrant colors and abstract forms that disrupt the familiar.

As a queer artist, I’m interested in how we can reclaim male nudity, not as something to be censored, but as a powerful statement of identity and desire. The homoerotic elements in my work are intentional-they reflect my own experience and challenge the cultural discomfort around male vulnerability.

This painting, like much of my art, is a way for me to reflect on my own relationship with masculinity and the ways it constantly shifts and evolves. Through it, I hope to invite others to reconsider their own ideas about male identity and the body.

[ffflae]

look at that ass 😍💦

[fleursdumale-boudoir]

[renauddeputter]

Souvenirs dormants, watercolor, 12cm x 12cm, 07/02/23, (c) Renaud De Putter

[youngmaleheart]

Who wants to check the heart?

[sayxit]

The most beautiful part of a man’s body

[celebtf]

what do you think about a story with Alex Sampson? He's a cute singer and songwriter and was really good a America's got Talent

ALEX GOT TALENT

Alex Sampson had always been the golden boy of America’s Got Talent. With his golden locks, dazzling smile, and natural talent, he was the kind of star people couldn’t help but adore. But admiration wasn’t the only thing Alex drew from others—he also attracted envy.

Tyler, a stagehand who had spent years working behind the scenes, was consumed by that envy. He’d watched Alex shine, effortlessly winning hearts while Tyler faded into the background. Every smile Alex gave, every cheer from the crowd, was like a knife twisting in Tyler’s chest.

And Tyler had decided it was time to do something about it.

The trap was simple. Tyler waited until the rehearsal ended, lurking in the shadows of Alex’s dressing room. Alex walked in, humming to himself, completely unaware of the danger.

“Hey, Alex,” Tyler said, stepping into the room with a forced grin. “Mind if I grab an autograph before the show? My niece is a huge fan.”

Alex turned, ever polite, and flashed that winning smile. “Of course, man. Got a pen?”

Tyler didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out an ancient-looking amulet from his pocket. Its surface shimmered with an unnatural light.

“What’s that?” Alex asked, his smile fading.

Before he could react, Tyler muttered an incantation under his breath. The air in the room seemed to crackle with energy, and Alex stumbled back, his body trembling.

“W-What’s happening?!” Alex cried out, his voice strained with panic.

A strange glow enveloped Alex, his limbs locking in place as his body began to distort. His arms flattened, his torso compressed, and his legs seemed to fuse together. His skin turned soft and fabric-like, his features melting into smooth, black cotton.

His screams faded into silence as his form twisted into something unrecognizable. Moments later, Alex was gone, replaced by a simple black tank top crumpled on the floor.

Tyler knelt down and picked up the tank top, holding it up to the light. The fabric felt warm in his hands, almost alive. He could feel Alex’s presence—his fear, his confusion—trapped within the threads.

“Not so perfect now, are we?” Tyler sneered, a dark satisfaction curling his lips.

Tyler stripped off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and slipped the Alex tank top over his body. The moment the fabric touched his skin, the amulet around his neck pulsed with energy. His body convulsed as it began to change.

His wiry frame filled out, muscles rippling under his skin. His chest broadened, his abs tightened into a perfect six-pack, and his arms became toned and strong. He felt his posture straighten, his skin smooth and flawless. Tyler’s reflection in the mirror shimmered, and when the glow faded, Alex Sampson stared back at him.

Tyler ran his hands over his new face, marveling at the sharp jawline, the perfect smile, and the piercing blue eyes. He flexed his arms, tracing the definition of his biceps, then ran his fingers through the thick, golden hair.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice now Alex’s deep, smooth tone. “No wonder everyone loves you.”

Tyler leaned closer to the mirror, flashing a grin. “Look at these abs,” he said, lifting the tank top slightly to admire them. “And this face... perfection.” He laughed, the sound dripping with malice.

Turning to the tank top still on his body, he smirked. “Bet you’re loving this, huh, Alex? Watching me be better at being you than you ever were.”

The next day, Tyler—now Alex—walked onto the stage, soaking in the applause. The judges praised his performance, calling it his best yet. Fans online couldn’t stop talking about how “Alex” had outdone himself.

But the real Alex, trapped as the tank top clinging to Tyler’s chest, could feel every moment. He could sense Tyler’s heartbeat, hear the cheers of the crowd, and even see the stage lights through some twisted connection.

Tyler, meanwhile, basked in the stolen glory. Every time he passed a mirror, he admired himself, flexing and posing. He’d whisper to the tank top, mocking Alex.

“Your life is mine now,” Tyler said one night, his reflection smirking at him. “And you? You’re nothing but an accessory. A piece of fabric. No one’s even going to miss you.”

Weeks passed, and Tyler perfected his act. He knew exactly how to mimic Alex’s charm and mannerisms. The world believed the lie, and Tyler relished every second of it.

But beneath the surface of his stolen identity, the tank top—Alex—still burned with anger. Every thread of his being screamed for revenge. Would he find a way to break free? Or was he doomed to remain a silent witness as Tyler lived his dream?

[oleksandrbalbyshev]

In my new painting «Hands of God Nebula,» I intended to explore the intersection of cosmic beauty and human sensuality. In this oil painting, I depict a nude man standing against an abstract, dark blue-violet background that echoes the vastness of space. His body, illuminated by vibrant bursts of color—reds, purples, oranges—creates a visual connection to the imagery of the «Hand of God» nebula. This fusion of the celestial and corporeal invites the viewer to contemplate the beauty of the male form as both erotic and universal.

The figure’s posture, with hands resting on his lower abdomen, emphasizes his vulnerability while celebrating his strength and physical presence. Through the swirling, radiant colors, I sought to express a sense of energy and fluidity, evoking both the mysterious grandeur of the cosmos and the intimate beauty of the nude male body. This painting is a personal reflection on homoeroticism, identity, and the profound connection between human and cosmic creation.

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#queerart #gayartwork #gayculture #gayerotic #gayworld #gayhunk #gayportrait #artgay #beautifulman #hunkgay #maleart #homoerotic #gayart #homoart #malenude #maleportrait #malebeauty #malebody #beautifulguy #gaycontemporary #malefigure #ukrainianartist #lgbtq #lgbtart #ukrainianart #gayman #handsomegay #malenudeart #gaypainting

[paranapadilha]

Gym Self-Portrait, 2023

[fleursdumale-boudoir]

Tableau de Chasse. 2024

digital collage, featuring personal media, vintage gay magazine and a picture from my upcoming selfportrait series « Le Danseur », available soon on my Flickr…

Hope you will like it ⚜️

[renauddeputter]

Fritillaires et épines, watercolor, 02/04/23, 20cm x 20cm, (c) Renaud De Putter - with a vase by Tapio Wirkkala.

[celebtf]

Controling Noah Beck

Bryce Hall couldn't stand it anymore. Every time he scrolled through TikTok, Noah Beck’s perfect face, charming smile, and millions of adoring fans haunted him. Bryce was no slouch in the popularity department, but Noah’s meteoric rise seemed to eclipse his every move. Fueled by jealousy and frustration, Bryce concocted a wild revenge plan that would change both their lives forever. Late one night, Bryce found himself in a corner of the internet filled with dark, obscure spells. One spell, in particular, caught his eye—an incantation for swapping bodies. "This is it," Bryce muttered to himself, "This will make Noah understand what it’s like to be me."

The next day, Bryce invited Noah over to his place under the pretense of brainstorming new TikTok ideas together. Noah, always friendly and unsuspecting, agreed. As they sat in Bryce's room, Bryce pretended to be engrossed in his phone. "Hey, Noah, check this out," he said, handing Noah his phone.Noah glanced at the screen, confused. "What am I looking at?"Bryce didn't answer. Instead, he whispered the incantation under his breath. Suddenly, a blinding light enveloped them both.

Bryce woke up first after the blinding light had hit their eyes, Bryce now saw Noah’s hands where his own used to be. His plan had worked. He was now in Noah Beck’s body. Bryce now started to flex his new body, dragged his new big hands over the new six pack, feeling the hard muscles. His new hands traveled up his neck and felt his new Jaw and felt the light stubble. He cracked a smile from his new face.

Noah had woken up, trapped in now Bryce’s body, looking around, didn't regognize his hands, started to touch and feel his face, felt the fresh cleaned shaved face and a softer jaw.

"Bryce, what did you do?" he demanded, his voice shaking.Bryce, reveling in his new identity, smirked. "I just leveled the playing field. Now, you get to see what it’s like to be me for a while."

The new Noah took out a piece of paper from his pants and started chanting, he saw his old body freeze and the eyes on the new Bryce closed, he went up to Bryce and whispered in his ears

" You will forever forget ever being Noah, you have always been Bryce Hall, and everytime I snap my finger you will be under my control, now when I snap my fingers you will make up and your old life will be forgotten"

* Snaps *

" Oh hey Noah, did I forgot we were hanging out today ? " the new Bryce asked, the new Noah cracked a smile again " Noo I was just picking up somethings i left here before my meeting with IPHIS ( Noah’s clothing brand ) "

* Snaps *

The new Noah went over to Bryce " I want you to put on the white Jockstrap, it's hidden under the pillow on the bed. When I get back, you and me will have some fun "

The new Bryce still under the new Noah's control went up staires, and the new Noah, well, he could feel a tent forming in his new pants, he grabbed his bulge and laughed, went out to his car and drove away to his meeting, dreaming of what would happend later.

[oleksandrbalbyshev]

With my new artwork «Hands of God Nebula»

[cyberneticcreations58blog]

[alcide-sulfurik]

Photomontage.

Model : Gael Augusto.