zdumbjock

[zdumbjock]

He started off so kind and innocent, gangly and nerdy. Someone one day would undoubtedly find his intellect and good nature charming, but he didn’t think so. He was tired of the anxiety, the second guessing, the isolation. He wanted a shortcut to being popular, to being wanted, no matter the consequences. So as the pleasure started to build he could tell he was getting what he wanted. His face slowly gaining some structure, his hair some volume, a little mass to his bony frame that was gradually becoming actual muscle. Then there’s that shift I love. That moment he didn’t expect and embraces, when the pleasure builds and cock begins to thicken, when that innocent wonder gives way to pleasure and desire, when that dumb cocky smirk begins to spread across that face and all that brilliant intellect begins to dim from those eyes. That’s when the real fun begins, when he starts growing and moaning into a hunk built only for showing off and pleasure. I’d say we both got what we wanted. Would you?

[zdumbjock]

Sister's New Boyfriend - Redux

This story is a collab with the amazing @johnbrand! Hope you enjoy, guys!

"C'mon, bro, didn't you miss this?" Scott teased, while his massive size 13 foot plopped on the coffee table in front of me.

"Cut it out, Scott," I whispered, knowing my sister was about to summon us to the kitchen any minute.

"Why should I, Jap?" Scott smirked arrogantly. "We both know you want it."

I held back the blush threatening to color my face. "That's not true."

"It's been what, seven or eight years since high school?" Scott's smirk morphed into an exaggerated grimace. "Surely you haven't forgotten about me, have ya, Jap? And all the good times we had together?"

Unfortunately, I hadn't forgotten Scott, or the "good times" he was referring to. The constant bullying; the harassment, the slurs, and even some straight-up abuse sessions. It was painful to reflect on, us being the same age and yet emotionally assaulted by a guy who was twice my size. Since those years, the gym and my therapist had helped me overcome those vulnerable moments. Even though I'd struggled to find a relationship, I was stronger now; a fighter well-supported by a network.

"Luckily for you, I've moved on, and don't call me that! Me and your girlfriend are both Korean," I shot back, eyeing Scott.

"I don't think you have moved on," Scott's smirk returned. "Otherwise, you would've bailed the second you saw me."

I never expected Scott to be my sister's new boyfriend. The guy she had been bragging about for months, this "kind, sensible, and loyal" being who had corrupted her life to the point of being all she talked about. I never would've imagined my sister - my highly educated older sister - would end up with the malevolent jock who had destroyed my self-esteem all those years ago. And after brief introductions, in which I realized I was still physically smaller than my former tormentor, I quickly felt the impending danger of the situation.

"I'm not abandoning my sister," I retorted.

"You won't be abandoning your orders either," Scott replied, a bit to my confusion. Scott apparently had dropped out of college, but become a fitness influencer in the years since, raking in massive financial figures. It was hard not to reflect on the fact that even without a degree, Scott had still come out on top. "Stop lying to yourself, buddy."

Instead of another indirect defense, I felt a slow warmth settling into my bones. My frustration ebbed away as a peaceful, almost artificial calm spread. My usual concerns were smoothing out, something Scott immediately recognized.

"Yes, that's right, buddy." Again, the word sent a pleasant heat through my entire body, tingling my toes and making the corners of my mouth twitch into the beginnings of a dopey smile. "Looks like those years apart didn't weaken my conditioning on you, huh?"

I knew better than to respond. In therapy, I thought I had discussed all my doubts about Scott. Every memory I managed to recover had been thoroughly investigated, scrutinized, and then analyzed to create a plan for my future proceedings. But it wasn't until that moment, in my sister's living room, reunited with my high school bully, that I realized I had only covered half of the relationship Scott had created for us. The memories my therapist and I had discussed were only the ones Scott had allowed me to remember.

"No, sir," I replied, the title suddenly seeming appropriate. "Not at all. I still masturbate to your magnificence at least twice a week, like you commanded, sir."

My eyes widened as Scott's smile turned sinister; this truth laid bare between us.

"What, you didn't think I'd just let you go after graduation, did you?" Scott's words cut deep, my shame finally flushing my face. "Guess my hypnosis was better than I thought back then. I like to keep all my boys on a leash, in case they become useful to me again."

Before I could respond, Scott snapped his fingers and pointed to his foot. Immediately, I was on my knees before him, my nose inhaling his divine scent and my tongue tracing the sacred valleys of his sole. Each breath sent another wave of adoration through me, the submissive alter ego Scott had created for me in high school overriding all the defenses I had built since then.

"Who'd have thought one of them would end up my brother-in-law?" Scott mused. Even as my former life and independence were rapidly evaporating, his arrogant victory brought a single tear to my eye.

"I thought I'd give the news!" My sister called from the kitchen, finally joining the conversation, but apparently oblivious to what was truly transpiring. "Dinner will be ready in a minute!"

"Thank you, dear," Scott called back, before pinning his eyes directly on me. "Hope you're ready to be an uncle too, buddy."

This revelation momentarily snapped me back to consciousness. "What... no, that's impossible!"

"Oh but it is, Jap! You're gonna be Uncle to little Scott Jr. And that got me thinking. Your sister's become the perfect woman with my help. But a boy needs male role models in his life, the right male role models. Just the thought of something happening to me and Scott Jr. having someone like you as an example... no way. So as much as I've enjoyed reminiscing about our time in school and taking great pleasure in putting you back in your place again, it's time for a change, Jap... congrats, you're getting a promotion!"

"What? I... I don't understand..."

"I can't have a fucking faggot, foot-sucking, cock-gobbling piece of shit as an example for my son if I'm not around, Jap. I need someone more like me. It'll be hard to part with such a docile servant, but it's necessary! Look at me!"

And I looked... looked into those cruel eyes and felt the malice within them would be far greater than any before. Foreseeing what could be my total obliteration, I prepared to flee... but my sister... my nephew! I would have to resist... I would resist!

"Great, I always did love seeing that defiant look in your eyes, Jap, loved watching it succumb to worship and obedience... ah, don't fool yourself, those things will still be there, even greater, for they'll be sincere, but the challenge won't go away... no, it'll grow, become a self-confidence bordering on what some would call arrogance! But only those beneath us, and for you, there'll be only one above, me, Jap!"

"No... no... my name not..." I needed to cling to something, to who I was and not what Scott was trying to make me.

"Jap, it's your nickname... always has been... you don't give a shit where your ancestors are from... you're American and damn proud of it... and if some dumbass leftist tries to say anything, you either laugh at their idiocy or beat their ass... right, Jap?"

"I... I... no... I'm a... a proud..."

"Yes, a damn proud American."

"That... just a nickname... it's a nickname..."

"It's funny!"

"Funny... yeah... haha" I found myself agreeing, though inside I screamed that it wasn't right, even as my memories of time spent in Seoul during my childhood before moving to America began to blur... I... had never left the US, had I? And so what if my grandparents came from somewhere else... no... no...

"Jap, focus on me! I want you to go back to the day we first met, I have no idea when it was, but you'll certainly remember and tell me!"

"It was... in high school... gym class... I'd just moved from... where?"

"Doesn't matter, it was some American town... now what happened in that class?"

"D-dodge ball... you..."

"Ah yes, now I remember... you refused to play! And when the coach made you, I had to teach you a lesson. Know it was your fault, Jap, if you'd just shown a little grit from the start... nah... you were too good a target! But... you're shaking, man, what the fuck?!"

"I... I... I don't like remembering that..." that was one of my most hated memories, the start of my torment.

"I get it, buddy! But you... you could like it... I'm just wondering if that day you'd shown a little more machismo, things could've been different... I might've seen a bro instead of a... buddy. Ha! Probably not, but lucky for you I like your sister and she's gonna be the mother of my son so... let's just imagine that day instead of taking the first steps to becoming my buddy, you took the first steps to becoming not just my bro, but my best bro, someone worthy of caring for little Scott Jr if I'm not around!"

"What...?" What new brand of insanity was this?

"Let's go back to that day, Jap. But this time I want you to remember it correctly because on that day, you weren't a sniveling crybaby like you recall, quite the opposite. You showed up with a chip on your shoulder and challenged me! You got your ass kicked, sure, but you fought back, even managed to hit a few of my buddies, not me of course. After that, I had to teach a lesson, you remember what happened in the locker room?"

"I... no..." That hadn't happened... none of that... or had it?

"I beat the shit out of you, Jap, and along with it, gave you your nickname. You got pissed, tried to fight back, got your ass kicked some more... but in doing so, you earned something important to me and you, my respect."

"I... respect?"

"Yeah, respect, bro!" Scott replied with a grin, as if he knew very well what having his respect would change in my life, and I could feel it too, something shifting within me, alien, different...

"Of course you were still a scrawny little fucker, but you were my scrawny little fuck, my feisty little mutt, and not so little for long, am I right? 4 years of training and when necessary, a few performance-enhancing drugs made all the difference, didn't they? Soon you were almost as big as me. Course, for some things to come in, others gotta go, right? For every hour in the gym, one less studying, every party moment one less dedicated to the arts, but who cares about that, not my brother Jap, certainly!"

"I... I..." I could remember what he was talking about, hours in the gym sculpting muscle, sports teams at school, boozing with the guys, and... pranks... yeah, pranks on the nerds... the same ones who did my homework... no! No! I did my homework! I went to... "...college..."

"What about college?"

"I went... college!"

"Of course not! With our grades, bro? Never! But who needs college when you've got a body and charm like ours? You're the top salesman after me at my dad's car lot, charm and a smile getting us through, and a few sleepovers with the female clientele on the side, of course!"

"But you're with my sister now!”

"So? What she doesn't know won't hurt her, you're always saying that, bro!"

"I... no, no!" I needed to protect her from him, not this, never this!

"Yes, Jap! It was you who insisted I meet her, that I put her in her place, the annoying sister who tried to diminish you just because she went to college, who nagged you just because you were one of the guys, who never cared about academic success! You practically begged me to fix her!"

"I... I." Yes, no, protect her!!! But that's what he did, isn't it? He put her in the hands of the person he most admired, his best friend, and ensured she was... correctee! There was a place for the man and a place for the woman, and she was better with a man by her side, and so what if he sometimes strayed? A man has his needs, he himself... he had his needs... so why was Scott talking about him sleeping with clients... women...?

"Scott, I'm grateful for what you've done, you're my best friend, the only one I let call me that stupid nickname... but I... this can't be right... me sleeping... with women? You know I'm gay!"

"Again with that, Jap? We've had this conversation before. So let me reinforce one last time: you're not gay, never were! You confused the admiration you have for me, the true idolatry of my person, with homosexuality, you're not and have never been gay, the trail of women you've conquered is the biggest proof of that, isn't it?"

"I... no... NO!" The little that remained of my original self mustered one last defiant act, Scott wasn't taking this last thing from me.

"Ah but yes, you're exactly like me, Jap, identical in almost every way, always have been, always will be. You know why? Because the alternative to being my bro is being my buddy... being humiliated, crawling at my feet? Is that what you want, bro? Because I can arrange it!"

"I... I..." What more could I do? "I'm your bro, Scott."

"That's my bro!" He responded with a grin, as everything around me became a whirlwind and I felt myself change, become the man Scott wanted me to be, the last vestiges of my original self consumed in a wave of arrogance, masculinity, and power, and in the end... in the end, even that part of me liked what happened, for deep down, a more primal, animalistic part of the old me had always wanted this. Curiously, Scott himself changed before my eyes as I changed before him, becoming even larger, stronger, more handsome and dangerous, I knew this was happening because he had me, an almost-him to make him even more than he was, one feeding the other. Knowing this made me smile.

“And to think that when my sister told me she had a new boyfriend I thought I was going to have to find a way to get rid of a wimp. I'm glad that won't be necessary.”

"Me to, bro! So, Jap. What do you say about being the godfather of your sister son.?” Said Scott, smiling after repositioning himself.

“Fuck my sister, I’ll be the godfather of my best bro son!”

[zdumbjock]

Imprinting gay porn and desire to be a fucking muscle bottom into his psyche so he will be one big power bottom. Oh yeah, I'm about to rewrite the entire concept of you bro, and you will not be able to tell the difference when I'm done with you. Now let's take this up a notch with you starting to imagine the top as me LOL, you'll be my muscle bitch from tomorrow bro!

[zdumbjock]

Locked in the Laundry Room

The Origins of Heir

I was so excited to spend a week alone in the city.

For my recent eighteenth birthday, my parents agreed to give me a week and let me explore the nearby city and check out the university I had been longing to attend every since I was little. My favorite cousin, who was a few years older, volunteered to give me a tour on the first day I was there, and the rest of the time was mine to spend on my own. I was so excited, I almost jumped out of my seat when I drove out of my driveway Sunday night.

My cousin and I were best friends from almost as early as I could remember. The two of us were inseparable, and decided when we were older to be partnering doctors. After a few years passed, my cousin flew right out of high school into my dream college. Now a few years later, I was on the same path. Both of us had 4.0’s going into senior year, and I know I could last a little longer.

I was so excited to spend a day with my cousin, but also a week alone. My parents had promised that they would leave me alone and that there wouldn’t be any check-ins or “unplanned” surprises. I was always set on a straight path towards becoming a doctor, so I was usually by myself, nose-deep in my studies. I never really had time to make friends or find a girlfriend. I was also fairly average physically, so no one really put in the effort to talk to me unless they wanted to get an A on some group project. Sure, I was lonely every now and then, but it could have been worse. I always was better on my own or with my cousin.

Monday was amazing. My cousin showed me every stadium, classroom, study area… anything the university had to offer. We ate out, chatted about school, and she introduced me to her friends. When the day was over, I was exhausted. I jumped on my hotel bed and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I explored the city’s restaurants, stores, and parks. Lucky for me, there were plenty of great sales and deals only available on that day. Who knew Tuesdays could be special? As I strolled along a path near the downtown area, I realized I had missed something on my tour yesterday at the university. I hadn’t seen any dorms while I was there! I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket, but realized I shouldn’t text her. It was barely past noon, so I didn’t want to interrupt one of her classes. I thought about what I could do for a moment, and decided I could just find a dorm myself. I ran to a bus stop and jumped on the first ride to the university.

I hopped of the bus and walked to the first dorm I saw: Richardson Hall. Richardson Hall was one of the older buildings on campus, but it was only evident through the slightly faded look on its brown bricks. It was surrounded by oak trees and plenty of students studying and working together on assignments. The building was the only one on campus that hosted students of all ages, but for only males. As I walked closer, I noticed how truly massive it was. It only had five floors, but it looked more like ten as I got closer. I got near the doors and pulled out and fiddled around on my phone, casually waiting for a group of students. I didn’t have a keycard to enter the building, so my great plan was to blend into a group when they entered. I looked at my home screen for a while, which adorned a picture of me and my cousin at a mall. After a few minutes, a group of male students came strolling down the path. As they came up the steps, I quickly added myself in between them and was let inside.

Richardson Hall wasn’t anything special on the inside. Besides it strangely ornate main stairwell, it looked like a normal dorm. I walked around for a bit on the different floors, looking into different people dorms as I strolled by. One of the perks of looking ordinary is that you can drift by without anyone taking too much notice. After about an hour of just hanging around the dorm, I decided it was time to head back to the hotel. As I walked back to the stairwell, I noticed something peculiar. There was a small sign with the words, “LAUNDRY ROOM” in huge letters, and with it a small arrow pointing up. For some reason, I found this amusing. I was on the fourth floor, so that meant that the room was on the top floor. I’d never hear of a laundry room not in the basement, so for some reason I felt like I ​had ​to see this.

Once I got to the top of the stairs, I followed the signs that led me down an old hallway. At the end there was an old brown door that was just barely open. I opened it and was surprised to see a second door. This door was white, with a glass looking into the room. I would’ve just looked through the window and left, but it was made with the kind of glass that was more of a faded white than clear. I slowly pushed the door open and entered.

The laundry room was really nothing special. The room wasn’t too big, and it seemed even smaller due to the amount of washing machines and dryers. There was a skylight above me, flooding sunlight into the room and providing a little natural heat. After I saw the cheap flooring and the soft-colored walls, I decided the room wasn’t as fun as I thought it might be. The only strange thing about it was the smell, or, lack of. I was expecting to be blasted with some sort of detergent-soapy aroma, but instead it was quite stale.

As I inspected the room, I noticed there were two others in the room. They were whispering to each other, but I don’t think they had noticed my presence. The first thing I noticed about them was that they were ​built.​ Both of them were stacked with muscle, and they didn’t try to hide it much either. Their clothes were a little more revealing than I was comfortable with. One was carrying a sports-related bag, while the other was putting laundry in the dryer. They were probably some cocky football jocks or some stereotype to that.

The one said something to the other one with the bag, nodding and smirking, and then patting him on the back. The one with the bag began walking towards me, seeing me for the first time. He wore a tight, light and dark gray striped tee shirt and a pair of too-skinny skinny jeans. His short, dirty-blond hair brought out is kind smile as he walked closer to me, his large fleet clomping.

“See ya, Mark!” he said, his cologne wafting past me as he stomped by. By the way he walked, he was definitely confident with himself. His stride was so powerful that I felt a small breeze ruffle my shorts when he walked past. “Mall in two hours, bro!”

“Sounds good, Easton!” Mark said, still at the laundry machine. I heard Easton walk out and shut the first door behind him quietly.

“Hey, bro,” Mark said, walking forward to me, “I’m Mark.” He extended a meaty paw towards me. “Oh, hi,” I said, looking over him and extending a hand, “I’m John.” I winced a little as we shook hands. I had underestimated how strong he was. His whole body was covered in a tan that showed hours spent in the sun. I started at his chest, because sadly that was eye-level. Mark was wearing a university tee that was at least a size too small. His biceps and pecs were nearly bursting, but his jean shorts were somehow even tighter. The jean shorts barely covered half of his muscled, hairy thighs, and it was obvious by his pronounced bulge that he wasn’t packing light. After drifting my eyes past his hairy calves, I saw his huge feet, which were covered by a pair of old athletic socks and some very worn-down Nike’s. Their bright red color hadn’t survived very long, and it was now faded under a soft layer of dirt. I craned my neck past another pronounced bulge, now in his neck, and looked more closely at his face for the first time. He had a very masculine and sharp jaw, and his hair was messily styled in a way that worked with the whole “football jock” look. The last thing I noticed was his beard, which I was immediately jealous of. A beard like that was hard to grow, and it probably showed more pride than his own pride, if you get what I’m going for.

The whole time I was looking him over, he was inspecting me to.

“You’re not a student, are ya, bro?”

“No, I’m just touring,” I said, a little neglected.

“Well, this is great school! We have some of the best sports around the nation… and best professors,” he quickly added, remembering who he was talking too.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied, already knowing both.

“Well, I gotta head out, but it was nice meeting ya, bro!” Mark smiled and patted my shoulder as he walked past me. I heard him walk over to the door and grab the handle. Mark fiddled with it for a second and groaned. He grabbed it again, a little more vigorously and a little less patiently, and tried to open it, but to no use. I turned to see Mark looking at me; he was angry over something.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing, “my bro, Easton, he accidentally locked the door.”

I stood there, puzzled, “How?”

“The first door is always supposed to be left open because it locks on its own. That doofus closed it.” Mark took a deep breath, but he was obviously pissed. “Ya got your phone on you?” “Yeah one…” I began, but as I reached down into my pocket, my hand felt nothing. I tried again, but it was still empty. I reached into another pocket, and still came out with nothing. After about a minute of searching, Mark stopped me.

“So ya don’t got your phone, and mine’s charging in my room. Great.” Mark walked past and sat down, resting his back on a washing machine. I walked around to where he was sitting, placing myself opposite of him.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked, sounding ignorant.

“Not really,” Mark replied, “Janitors only come up here on Saturdays, but Easton will probably know I’m missing so hopefully we won’t have to stay too long.” We sat there in silence for a little bit, but then started to talk to keep each other company. I got to learn a ton about Mark. He had always been into sports, especially football, but once he got to college he put his major before sports. According to him, he was luckily​ ​convinced by the school’s head coach, Coach Sorenson to continue football and join the team. At first, Mark was reluctant, but as soon as he joined he knew it was the right choice. Mark also talked about the lack of numbers on the team, and how he had an idea to get them back up. He had pitched the idea to Coach Sorenson, and it was so good that he offered Mark a job after he graduated next year as Assistant Coach. Mark agreed and immediately changed his major from Business to Physical Education.

“Bro, I was so nervous about switching, I mean, I’m one of dumbest people I know.” Mark chuckled at his own joke. It was a slow, emptier laugh.

“At least I’m not as stupid as Easton, though!” Mark added. We both laughed at that real hard. We sat there for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, before Mark spoke again.

“Hey, bro, would ya be alright if I take of some of my clothes?” Mark asked. During the whole conversation, I hadn’t even noticed the heat. The room was boiling. There was no air conditioning, and skylight was still shining light into the room, making it much hotter than comfortable.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, removing my own sweater. I now noticed the sweat stains scattered along my shirt. Mark carefully removed his own shirt, carefully. It was soaked through with sweat and stuck to his chest like another skin. As he pulled it off, I got a full look of his torso. I was a little jealous before, but now I was bursting with envy. His chest was perfectly defined; it was what every man wanted but couldn’t have. It was hairless, unlike the rest of his body, but you could see every ab and muscle. I was definitely straight, but this truly tested my sexaulity.

The whole time I was gawking at his chest, I didn’t notice him toss his shoes and socks next to me. The smell of his feet instantly filled the hot and stale room, making it so steaming that it brought me out of my trance.

“Size 15,” he proudly stated, smirking, ”biggest on the team.”

I looked at his huge feet, and then at his huge shoes. They reeked so much that it was making me a little dizzy. Then, I noticed another scent begin to fill the room, and for some reason it was familiar. I tried to find the source, and Mark took notice of me immediately.

“Oh, that?” he asked, his smirk grew a little wider as his tone became a little more menacing, “that’s the smell of my cologne: Heir.”

Mark took a little bottle out of his pocket with the word “HEIR” written in big, messy letters. He then put the bottle away and casually lifted both of his arms placed them behind his head. He fully exposed his armpits to me, which were filled jungles of wiry hairs. All the hairs that should’ve been on his chest were obviously there. I then realized why the scent was familiar; I had smelt it on Easton as he left.

“Remember the idea I had talked about earlier, bro?” Mark smiled as he scooted towards me. The scent of his shoes and cologne were making it hard to concentrate.

“When I was taking my Business major, right before I switched to Physical Education, I took a class on funding. An assignment was to fund a new and upcoming company. I stumbled upon a tiny company that made personalized scents located a few miles from here. I brought an idea to Coach about making some colognes, and he approved of it. See, together we made a cologne for all the football jocks to wear, that way we could recruit new players.”

I tried to understand what he was saying, but the two scents were blinding my other senses from working properly. Mark scooted again so he could sit next to me. He slowly took my head and placed it on his crotch with my facing up. He then brought one of his armpits down to my face and uttered a simple command.

“Sniff.”

In my state of confusion, I immediately complied. I began to sniff, at first tentatively, but after a while more confidently. After sniffing his armpit for a little bit, I began to moan as the effects of the cologne set in.

It started with my height. My legs and torso began to stretch to each new breath I took. I felt new muscles tense and release as I got to a height a little over 6’2”, which was a little under Mark’s 6’4”. The next thing I felt was my chest begin to expand. Each new breath made my torso rise a little more. Hard pectorals began to slowly develop, pushing their way into the open. A cobblestone path began to appear as my non-existent abs began to form from thin air. Next were my legs. I groaned a little as my quads began to tense into solid muscle, perfect for the running I’d be doing every day. As soon as my thighs were done pumping up, my calves followed. My calves became meatier, with solid muscle adding itself on top of more muscle. I felt my butt plump up a little too, becoming bubblier.

My arms followed quickly after. Years and years of training kicked into my arms to make them better for throwing and tackling. My biceps and triceps inflated like little balloons, and my hand beefed up to make it easier to catch the ball and high-five my bros. As soon as my hands were done swelling, my feet kicked into gear. My feet, which were already pushed away due to my new legs, began to expand. I could feel my toes slowly move farther and farther towards the ceiling from the floor, until they themselves plumped up. New veins appeared over my feet, giving them a truly masculine look.

“Size 14,” Mark said, admiring my feet as I continued smelling his armpit, “good for you.”

For some reason, it felt good to know that Mark was happy with me. I kept sniffing and felt my neck expand. My moans began to grow deeper and emptier; my voice sounding dumber with each new breath. By the time my neck was finished transforming, my voice sounded almost identical to Mark’s and Easton’s; a now truly sounded like a football jock. My neck was followed up by my head. I quickly dug my head deeper into the dense forest that was Mark’s armpit, trying to help progress the change. My head began to stretch longer. I felt my cheekbones move up and my chin push down, causing my cheeks to suck themselves in. My hair began to turn blond, cutting the sides and growing out on top. As soon as it stopped growing, it coiffed itself up. My nose shrank a little and my lips grew a little wider, and my eyes tooks on an vacant shade of blue.

“Here comes the best part, bro,” Mark said anxiously, pushing me even deeper into his armpit, “this is where the name comes from.”

I sniffed passionately, wanting whatever Mark was so eager about. Suddenly, I began to feel rather itchy across my entire body. I tried to squirm, but I realized that smelling Mark’s armpit was more important. As I gave my full attention to sniffing, I realized I had hair growing all over my body. Blond hairs were heavily covering my legs, arms, butt… there was hair everywhere. There was hair on the tops of my feet, a new bush in my pouch, and my armpits looked like a blond version of Mark’s. The only place where there was an absence of hair was my chest. Once the hair stopped growing, I began to produce my own, pungent body odor. It was then I realized what Mark meant. The cologne was named Heir, but everytime he had pronounced it as “Hair.”

Mark then lifted me out of his armpit and turned me around to face him. I was still a little dazed, but I was coming back to my own consciousness.

“The cologne isn’t the only thing the company makes.” Mark reached past me and grabbed one of his shoes, he pulled out a faded, slightly wet shoe sole. “They also make scented shoe soles.” I was still confused, the smells hadn’t worn off.

He explained further, “The cologne does the physical work, but we have to make sure ya also become a team player mentally. These were a little harder to afford, and they come with some side effects, but bro, it’ll make ya into what you’re supposed to be.”

“Wha… side effects?” I was finally coming back, my head starting working as thoughts came back. I began to realize the danger I had been in all along.

“Oh, nothing,” Mark grinned, bringing the huge boat to my face, “let’s just say that you’ll truly be a bro. You’re gonna be as bright as Easton and have the libido of frat president.”

Mark shoved my head into his shoe, and right as I came out of my state of confusion, I was shoved back in. I began to sniff again, feeling my mind replace itself. Memories of my family and high school began to disappear. My loneliness was replaced with tons of friends, girlfriends, and secret relationships with other bros. My new family was more athletic, with my parents both being high school coaches. Memories of being alone with my cousin were now replaced with drunken homecoming bashes and late night bangs. As I sniffed Mark’s shoe, I realized this was all true. I had ​always dedicated myself to sports, and if I had always dedicated myself to sports, that means I would’ve had no time for an education. All my intellectual thoughts and ideas began to flow down through my system, all the way down into my pouch. My balls began to expand, churning my own intellect into pure, jock testosterone. They got bigger and bigger, slowly reaching the size of two tennis balls. My 4.0’s slowly became B’s, which dragged into C’s, and in turn dragged into barely even graduating. I remembered the only reason I had gotten into college was a football scholarship.

Memories of college began to flow in as well. For some reason, I’d thought I was touring as a future student, but I remembered that I was already a student here. I was in my third year of my Exercise Science major to become a physical trainer. I remembered the countless parties that had been hosted at my frat, the multiple professors I’ve had “extra-credit seminars” with, and when my main bros Mark and Easton helped me discover I wasn’t actually straight. After that, we shared so many brojobs and “study-halls” together. I remembered the countless games my football team had won, and how good I felt whenever I could please my coach, Coach Sorenson, or my broski Mark. Sure, I was very close to dropping out of college, but I remembered that as long as I did what Coach Sorenson told me, I would graduate.

Mark began whispering commands to me, edging me on to a spectacular release. He told me how it had always been this way, how I always had this perfect life, how all I needed to do was smell the shoe and release. I kept getting closer, feeling my average member get longer and longer until it reached a permanent eight inches, just barely shorter than Mark’s. Mark kept whispering into my ear and told me to take a deep breath and hold it. I followed his instructions, taking one more huge breath and sealing my IQ at an eternal 89. Then he whispered one last time in my ear.

“Just do it.”

I did exactly that. Streams of white erupted and spread all over my chest, Mark’s chest, and the pile of ripped clothes around me. My old memories were now gone forever. I was still John, but now as a hot, popular jock who would do anything for his Coach and bros. Now, thanks to Mark, I’ve learned who I truly am. I’m about as bright as best bro Easton and have the libido of frat president, and that’s what I’ve always wanted.

As soon as I snapped back to reality, Mark explained to me that we were just doing laundry and got bored, so he decided to give me a good ‘ole brojob. When I noticed I was naked, I asked where my clothes were.

“In the laundry, bro,” Mark guffawed, “we were doing laundry, remember? Why else would we be in here?”

I gave a dumb, hearty laugh back. He opened a dryer and tossed me a pair of gray sweatpants. I brought them to my nose and took a sniff. Mark, Easton, and I never actually use washing machines, we just throw our dirty clothes into the dryer to amplify the smell of our dirty clothes. If people complained, we’d just apply the football team’s awesome cologne: Heir. I pulled up the sweatpants while Mark put back on his socks and shoes. He pulled his shirt over his head, which now stunk of sweat and cum. We began to walk towards the doors, and suddenly, we both heard a click as the first door swung open. There stood Easton, smiling a dumb grin as he came in.

“Hey broskis!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “You meatheads left your phones in the frat house.”

Easton searched through his bag, handing Mark back his phone before grabbing mine. After getting my phone, I leaned up against a counter and checked looked at my home screen, which was a picture of Easton, Mark, and I at the beach in our speedos.

As I searched my phone, I overheard Mark and Easton talking.

“Has he passed the final test?” Easton whispered.

“Not yet, but I think he’ll pass,” Mark replied back confidently before strolling over to me.

“Hey, John,” Mark said, coming close to me. I could smell him. “Are you missing anything?”

“Uh,” I paused, my empty voice rumbling, “my jock?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I was going for, bro. Commando doesn’t count.” Mark came over and grabbed my accentuated pouch. I loved when he did that. Then I figured out the answer.

“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my bros!”

“Bingo!” Mark said, nodding to Easton.

“Hey bro!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “Where’s your shirt?”

“He was too dumb to notice he was missing it!” Mark laughed, and Easton and I quickly joined in. How could I have been so dumb to forget a shirt?

Easton pulled out a blue sleeveless shirt with the Nike symbol out of his sports bag. I smelled it, and realized it was used. Just how I liked it. He also handed me a pair secondhand of black and gray Nike trainers. I investigated the shoes, looking right at the special soles before I put the shoes on. They looked huge, but fit my feet perfectly.

“I can be so dumb sometimes, bro.” I laughed at myself as I put on my clothes. “Such a meathead.”

“That mean’s your keeping what’s important in mind,” Mark added before also reaching into Easton’s bag. He pulled out a small bottle with a label. I raised my arms, showing off my pits, and Mark sprayed a hefty amount of cologne into the dense hairs. He put the Heir bottle back into Easton’s bag.

“Let’s go, bros!” Mark said, leaving the laundry room, “Don’t want to be late for practice!”

[zdumbjock]

Just Feels Right

Cameron always had a bit of a daddy fetish, but the more he explored it, the more confused he became. At first he met up with other guys, but the reality wasn't what he had fantasized. Then he tried to style himself as the daddy but it kind just felt awkward and forced.

After several months of hopeless searching, he turned to Daddyhunt to see if he could find someone else in the similar situation. There he met Derek who was an older guy, but loved to be treated like a boy by younger guys. They gradually got to know each other and wrote to each other everyday. Eventually, they decided to take things to the next level and agreed to meet.

Their first meeting was a cold and stilted occasion. They'd spent too long talking online and they had completely different impressions of each other that clashed with the reality. They had a great connection, but both felt an awkward dynamic. Derek felt large and cumbersome in comparison to his daddy, and Cameron cared too much about what others thought and how they would misidentify their roles in the relationship. People thinking he was the boy was somehow humilating for him.

The relationship cooled after their first meeting. Perhaps they both just had the wrong impression - it was a fantasy after all. Desperate, Derek researched potential solutions and on a whim, ordered a swap potion. They agreed to meet at Derek's house for a second date and debated the potions long and hard before deciding to give it a try.

Almost instantly, both started feeling nauseous and feverish. That feeling would continue for the rest of the day as their bodies changed. Cameron grew taller, heavier, hairier and his skin lost some elasiticity and gray fleck appeared in his hair and beard. Derek became more slender, thinner, rejuvenated. With both being more or less incapacitated from the changes, they feel asleep in the early evening.

At around 6am Cameron woke up, unable to sleep any longer. His fever has subsided and he stood up to go pee. At the point, he looked down and saw the changes. The floor was much further away and his body covered in dark hair. He walked to the bathroom to pee from his bigger, uncut cock.

He explored his body and fell in love with his new self. He loved the dusting of hair on his torso, but it looked like Derek definitely trimmed it. He was already looking forward to growing out his body hair everywhere. No more shaving for him. Even though it seemed Derek shaved his back hair, for example, Cameron wanted to let himself go, and who knows, maybe even expanding that belly.

He couldn't remember the last time he was voluntarily awake at 6am, but he just wasn't tired anymore. That being said, a feeling of legarthy meant he didn't feel fully awake and found Derek's coffee machine. He wasn't a coffee drinker ordinarily, but thought it might be something Derek would do and fitted to his new daddy self. He slipped a coffee and felt hiy body perking up and more at ease as waited for Derek to stir.

Thinking it through, he soon realized it could take a while since he was never an early riser, so after he finished his coffee, he woke Derek with a kiss.

Derek was feeling sleepy in a way he hadn't experienced in a long time, but welcomed the good morning kiss. The mixture of coffee breath and the beard scratching against his cheeks made him feel warm inside. "Good morning, sleepyhead" said Cameron, the first time hearing the deep powerful voice from his mouth.

The two both felt increasingly at ease in their new bodies, but Cameron had one thing on his mind. His boner would not subside and he needed release. From a cuddling position on the bed, he gently but firmly pushed Derek's heard down to his crotch and Derek got to work. Cameron's deep moans turned them both on. Then, Cameron flipped Derek's smaller body over and began to eat him out. He loved the feeling of his beard scratching against his bare ass cheeks. Before long, his girthy cock was inside his former body and couldn't contain himself as he soon came inside. He definitely had a stronger libido now and probably needed release at least once or twice a day.

Somehow that ejaculation inside Derek cemented something inside them and they both knew that this was here to stay. Derek jerked himself to a finish while carressing Cameron's furry chest.

As they cuddled afterwards, Cameron also told Derek that he needed to shave everything from the ears down today. He felt slightly hypocritical since he had that body until yesterday, so it was his fault. But he wanted Derek to have his body perfect for him. When eating him out, there was some light stubble around his ass that spoiled the experience. He wanted his boy perfectly shaven at all times. Only Daddy should be hairy. Derek replied with "Yes, Daddy" and giggled.

Cameron groomed Derek to be the perfect twink for him. He worked out hard, they threw out all his suits and bought a more appropriate, younger wardrobe. At the same time, Cameron bought himself some tailored suits, shirts, pants and shoes. He wore a shirt most days and generally loved the aura of an older man. Cameron settled into the life of having his boy on hand to take care of him and his cock whenever needed. When he came home, he'd sit in his chair and wait for Derek to come and take off his dress shoes while he sipped a whisky, before fucking or getting sucked. Such was their daily routine. He'd put on a few pounds from the drinking and all the red meat he'd been eating. His doctor told him to cut down and take care of his cholesterol at his age and he got a massive boner right there and then.

Derek meanwhile loved being 20 years younger again. Passers by immediately saw that he was a boy with a daddy fetish and that turned him on so bad. He blossomed and lived care-free with keeping his daddy his only concern. Cameron required him to send him updates multiple times a day and gave him tasks to do, like ordering him to walk around shirtless and show everyone what a twink he was.

Things finally felt right for both of them. For Cameron, it now made sense why things never felt quite right. Now, he felt no attraction whatsoever to other daddys. Lately he'd started wondering if Derek needed a brother too. He went back on the app, this time setting up his profile as a daddy in his 40s and turned himself on with his own arrogance as he wrote up his profile:

"Experienced suited daddy seeking additional boy. I have plenty of sperm to go around. Be cute, lean, shaven, obedient. Boys over 23 need not apply."

[zdumbjock]

Destination Unknown

Jared cussed. His alarm didn't go of so now he was going to be late for work. He had just seen his tram leave right before he got to the doors.

He sat down on the bench as he grabbed his phone to call his boss to let him know he would be late. Before he could send dial he saw a tram slowly approaching him. Frowning Jared slowly gets up as he grabs his card to check in.

The tram stopped perfectly in front of him, and Jared gets on. He walks to the driver. "Ehm, excuse me, is this tram Going to the city Centre stop?"

The driver laughs mischievously and nods. "We take you to wherever you need to go."

Dumbfounded by the weird cryptic answer Jared sat down and looked around. The inside of the tram was a light pink, the seats have frilly cushions, and a faint rose scent permeates around the inside of the car. Two other guys are sitting a few rows behind Jared. Both are wearing similar clothes to him, a buttoned shirt and dress pants, but where you wore perfectly tailored clothes the other guys seemed to have washed them a bit too hot. The clothes were tight around their thick arms and their buttons were fighting for their lives.

Jared turned back around and put his headphones in. Not his fault people don't know how to buy clothes.

After a few stops Jared shifted in his seat. Grimacing he looked down to see his shirt looking a bit tighter than it was supposed to. Rubbing his stomach he felt a slightly more tense response than he was used to. He scratched chin feeling a bit of stubble, which in retrospect wasn't very surprising due to him not having time to shave in the morning.

Looking out of the window he noticed he was nearing his stop so he got up and walked to the nearest exit. Looking across the car he noticed two new guys sitting in the same spots as the two dudes that were in there before. They were very out of place in this princess pink tram. Their muscles were massive, pecs shelving, biceps bulging. They were eyeing eachother hungrily as the tram got to a stop. They looked up at you and both smiled with their perfect pearly whites.

Shuddering Jared quickly got off. He sighed as he stepped into the cold December air. While walking to his office, Jared felt his legs grind against eachother in a very uncharacteristic way. Looking down his pants seem to be hugging his legs a bit tighter than before. He brushed it off to it being do to having to leave in a hurry and shortly after got to the office.

The day went by in a blur. His colleagues congratulated him on multiple occasions on his physique, which actually got him more self-conscious than ever before, mostly due to the fact that he did not work out in the slightest. After a few hours he had enough of it and went to the bathroom to check.

As he looked into the mirror Jared was shocked to see his face more angular than he remembered. His jaw was sharp and there was a noticeable amount of scruff on his face. Looking at his body he noticed his arms tight in his shirt, similar to his legs.

"Oh... my... god..." Jared's face flushed as he noticed the obscene bulge his pants were containing.

"What is happening to me..." Jared thought out loud. His mind went into overdrive. Was it an allergic reaction? It couldn't be. He didn't have the time to eat anything he didn't before. Unless he's allergic to too much sleep that wasn't it.

The only conclusion left was...

"But that can't be..."

The tram. The weird ethereal, rose smelling, pink tram. Jared grabbed his phone and on his way back to his desk, searched online for any hits on "Pink tram transformation". The rest of his day was spend on browsing the web. At the end of the day he had finally found a hit. Apparently there was an urban legend where a pink tram will take you wherever you want in life. People would exit it changed in some way that would propel them in the right direction in life. A few warnings on the thread about people also going missing didn't seem to alarm Jared as he looked at the way to summon the pink tram. "You just have to be very adamant on going somewhere."

After going home Jared devised his plan. He had a day off tomorrow, so he had time to spare. So he would go to where no one has seemed to go before. The end of the tram.

______________________________________________________________

The next day Jared waited at the station for the next tram to arrive. He figured the best way for the tram to come would be after the regular one to have just left. After the last tram left, Jared closed his eyes and wished.

"I want to get to the end of the pink trams ride."

Like clockwork, he heard a tram approaching. He opened his eyes and saw the pink tram. Full with glee he entered the Tram. He saw the driver eyeing him up and down with a smirk.

"Welcome back"

"Thank you, there's no limit to how long I can ride this tram right?"

"No sir, we are glad to have you, please take a seat and enjoy the ride."

Jared smiled and made his way into the car. Looking around he noticed a handsome guy sitting alone and he decided to test something else. He sat down on the opposite side of the tram of the guy and looked him in the eyes.

"Hey, I'm Jared, where are you going?"

"Oh, hey, I'm Bruce, I'm just on my way to work. Funny story I missed my regular tram, but then this one showed up almost right after."

Jared grinned. "The same happened to me yesterday. Have fun!"

And with that Jared got up and walked to the back of the tram.

He kept an eye on the guy who seemed very enthralled into his phone. Slowly but surely, with each stop, Bruce's shoulders seemed to broaden out. He also seemed a bit taller and have a bit more scruff on his face, but before more could change, he got off.

Jared sighed. He wanted to have a bit more fun. Before he could linger on it though, he realized he was man spreading. He looked down. His legs, which he smartly had clad in baggy sweats, were twice the size they were before. His shirt was almost bursting at the seems with his pecs already pushing the limits of the buttons. Jared got up and ran a hand across his bulked up torso.

"This is insane! I'm massive!" Jared smiled and walked to the door, ready to get off. But the tram kept going. Not only that but it sped up. "H-hey I want to get off!" Jared yelled to the driver.

The driver got out of his cabin, slowly walking to the panicking man. "You wished to arrive at the end did you not?" The man got closer and closer. Jared's jaw dropped as he noticed the drivers physique. He was massive. Clad in leather, his muscles rippled underneath his clothes. A devilish smile appeared as he reached Jared.

"We will arrive shortly, time to speed things up a bit" The driver snapped his fingers and the Tram started to speed up more. The man smiled as the tram began shaking heavily. Each shake send a ripple through Jared's body. Every ripple pulsed his muscles bigger. His ass jiggled as it got bigger and bigger. His bulge began to strain his pants, his balls churning.

"W-wait... please." Jared moaned. He dropped to his knees, eye level with the drivers groin.

"W-who are you"

"I'm a long forgotten being, a god of pleasure and depravity. I ride this tram for my own fun, and I seem to have found my next play thing."

The man ran a hand through Jared's hair making his locks fall out, leaving a neat buzzcut. He grabbed his chin, more scruff appearing.

"By entering this tram you enter a contract with me. By exiting you fulfil it. You decided to stay on so you are now mine. Which means I get to do with you whatever I want." The god smiles, lighting a cigar and blowing the smoke into Jared's face. The smoke flows into his mouth and nose, making his head foggy. Slowly Jared feels his sense of self escape by blowing out the smoke. Looking back up at the man in front of him he sees the mans cock hanging out of his pants , an alluring scent wafting from his large rod and balls. Without a second thought he takes the whole length down his supple throat. With each bob of his head, Jared loses more and more of his identity. Before long, nothings left. a blank slate. As soon as the last drop of Jared leaves him, the man shoots his load into the young mans throat. As the cum fills his mouth, so does the new persona fill his mind. Jay looks up at his divine daddy, smiling as the salty substance fills his stomach. Warmth spreads all over his body as he begins to expand.

His chest fills with thick muscle and hot liquid, slightly sloshing around. His balls churn as more and more testosterone gets pumped through his body. His pits begin to emanate a subtle musk, while his feet are now permanently moist. His ass balloons out, lifting him more, pushing more and more of the mans dick into his mouth, which has grown longer in the time that Jared has drained out of him.

Slowly taking out the engorged rod from his Trophy boys mouth the man smiles. "I am Kama, but you can call me daddy boy, now rest."

And with those words, Jay falls unconscious, having reached the end of the trams ride.

______________________________________________________________

In the days that follows, Jay spends his time working out, and working as an assistant at his Daddy's office. He seems to be the owner of a large multi-faceted brand called Rakurai Inc. Its perfect for him. He only has to think of fun things to make men into fun boys. No hard thinking because most of the blood is spend in his massive rod. Oh right, Daddy is almost on break better send him a picture.

[zdumbjock]

[zdumbjock]

[zdumbjock]

[zdumbjock]

Yeah bro... this guy right here is your nerd friend. That's what we keep telling you bruh. Coach's file fried his brains real good and the protein shakes beefed him up. He's #11 now bro, bleeding blue and white for the TEAM. He was stoked to get his uniform and finally be one of us, huhuhuh.

You don't understand? Bruh... you will. Coach wanted two linebackers, and you just look like a #12. Can't wait to see you at practice bro!

[zdumbjock]

It was even better than expected. Day by day he cared less about things, all the things that made him feel helpless and anxious. It was initially a dizzying shift, waking up each day looking just a little bit different, thoughts a little calmer, torso a little firmer. The need to immediately turn to his phone for news updates slowly diminishing as his thoughts got simpler and the desire to get the mirror to see his subtle changes grew. As he started putting on muscle it only got easier, thoughts turning completely away from the world to focus on everything he was becoming. He couldn’t get enough of it, watching himself get dumber and hotter each day. Feeling the need to flex and show off growing inside him with every pound of hot muscle he put on and emptier his mind became. He was forgetting himself completely and he loves it.

[zdumbjock]

Nic Kaufman

I was just sitting there. Most of our friends had already left, we had just got done with a fun night of drinking beers and playing cards at Nic’s house. I was sitting on the couch and Nic was on a chair across from me. He was wearing a very thin tank top and his hair was all messy.

I was just about to get up and leave before Nick said “hey wait, before you go, you wanna try something fun?”

I thought he was a little drunk and just wanted to pull a prank or something. I say sure and he leads me down into his basement, where he tells me to sit down on this giant bean bag that was in the middle of the room.

“This is comfortable” I said to him

He heads over to a shelf and grabs a wooden box and pulls out something shiny.

“What exactly are we doing?” I ask him.

“Just trust me, and make yourself nice and comfortable” he says.

He kneels down next to me and pulls out the shiny thing. It looks like a…necklace? It was a thin metal chain with a diamond at the end of it. It was pretty.

He begins in a soothing voice, “I want you to look directly into the center of the diamond, focus on the colors and how they reflect the light into your eyes. As you do that I want you to focus on your breathing. Going in……and out…..in……and out.”

I could’ve been staring at this thing for five minutes or an hour, I don’t know, but it was relaxing, and my head was starting to go fuzzy.

“Now I want you to raise your right hand in the air, as high as you can.” He says

I raise my arm.

“This represents your consciousness, as long as your arm stays in the air, you will remain completely aware of your surroundings and what’s happening around you.” He explains.

I start to feel dizzy, his voice was something I could fall asleep to. And he just keeps talking. He starts to snap his fingers, every time he does it makes me…tingle.

“(Snap)As you stare into the diamond, you feel your eyes(snap) start to get (snap)heavier and (snap)heavier.

I can’t help it. My eyes start to shut all by themselves. My arm keeps getting more sore.

“You feel your body start to go into a complete trance, a complete state of hypnosis. As I count down from 10-1”

“10…9…8…”

I feel dizzy. My head starts to sway from side to side.

“7…6…5…”

My eyes shut completely. I feel my head drop to my side. Every part of my body starts to sink.

“4…3…2…”

I can’t resist any longer, I need to let my arm fall.

“1…SLEEP” he commands.

I feel my arm drop to my side and I fall into a deep sleep.

I feel…good. My body feels completely relaxed, almost like I’m floating. I can still hear Nic talking, but I can’t hear what he’s saying, I was completely zoned out.

“1…2…3…AWAKE” he commands

I snap out of it. My head pops up and I am completely out of trance. I had completely forgotten what had just happened

“Hey, how’s it going?” He asks.

“Good man how are you?” I say obliviously.

“3…2…1…SLEEP” he commands

I fall so deep into trance, even deeper than I was before. I was under for longer this time, I could still hear Nic murmuring to me but I’m too asleep to hear what he’s saying. The more he talked, however, the more I got this strange sensation within. I couldn’t describe it, I felt…GITTY when I heard his voice, I wanted to hear his voice, and I wanted to do what it told me.

“1…2…3…AWAKE”

I woke up again, and I look at Nic. He looked HOT all of a sudden. He changed nothing about his look but yet, I was very attracted to him for some reason. I had never liked a boy before, only girls, and it felt SO good.

“3…2…1…SLEEP”

I sleep even deeper. I feel Nic still talking to me. As he’s talking, I start to feel HOT. REALLY HOT. It was like someone just put me in an oven, but I was to relaxed to do anything, I just sat there and sweat. Then, all of a sudden I felt cool again.

“1…2…3…AWAKE”

I awaken, feeling dazed and confused.

“Hey Man, how you feeling” he said.

“Good” I explained.

“Notice anything different?” He asked.

“What? No”.

Just then, I look down and I am wearing nothing but my underwear

“Woah! What the fuck?” I said.

“Yeah, how do you feel?” He asked.

“Good, I guess”

“Was a feel even better?”

“Sure”

“SLEEP” he commanded once more.

I fell into trance again, this time the deeper I went, the better it felt. I can still here Nic murmuring something. And he’s touching me, on my bare shoulders, my stomach, my legs. Every time he does I feel…good…REALLY GOOD… almost…aroused. The more he touched, the more I got a vision in my head. A vision that I was having sex with Nic, he was putting it in my mind. And it felt AWESOME.

“AWAKEN” he said.

I pop back up. Still in my underwear. Now completely aroused.

“How did you feel during that trance?”

“That felt awesome man” I said.

“We’ll, while you were under, I put a trigger in your mind, do you know what it is?”

I got curious. “No I don’t, I can’t remember” I said.

“It happens whenever I clap my hands twice, wanna see.” He said.

Not realizing what was about to happen, I blindly said “sure” and then it happened.

He claps his hands.

👏🏻👏🏻

And then it came over me. It was like a shock of relaxation and arousal shot all throughout my body. Suddenly I found myself having an uncontrollable urge. The urge to start JERKING OFF. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself. It all happened so fast.

I couldn’t resist. Just like that I pull down what clothing I had on and started stroking my cock…HARD!

“That’s right, who’s a good boy?” Nic chuckled.

I couldn’t even respond. I was so horny.

It wasn’t long before I started uncontrollably moaning to the arousal he had forced upon me, it was to great to resist. I just kept getting more and more and more aroused as I kept jerking myself harder and harder and HARDER. I needed to cum.

Yes, I wanted to shower this floor with my milk, I wanted to unload right into Nic’s face, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t able to cum. Until Nic started saying…

“Now, when I clap my hands twice again, you’ll finish for me. You want that don’t you?”

“Uuuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhh, YESSS!” I desperately moaned.

“Good” he said.

👏🏻👏🏻

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, the rest of my body relaxed into the bean bag, and I jerked harder than I ever jerked before. The anticipation builds up within seconds and then 3……2…………1…………..BOOM!!

I shoot all over the place. On the floor, on myself, on Nic. And I scream with orgasmic relief.

When I finished I fell back into trance instantly. What I didn’t know was when I unloaded, that was my trigger to becoming Nic’s obedient slave.

[zdumbjock]

spiral&chill

Ben first encountered Charles on a quiet evening, scrolling through Grindr out of boredom more than intent. He wasn’t the kind of guy to often meet strangers from the app—he preferred getting to know someone a bit first. But when Charles messaged him, something about the man’s profile struck a chord.

Charles had a slim, athletic build, a sharp jawline accentuated by a neatly trimmed goatee, and eyes that seemed to sparkle even through a screen. His messages were witty, confident, and just the right mix of playful and direct. They chatted back and forth for a week before deciding to meet at a local bar.

When Ben walked in that night, scanning the crowd nervously, Charles had stood out immediately. He looked just as good as his pictures, maybe even better. There was an air of ease about him, a self-assuredness that put Ben at ease too. His French accent only added to his appeal, each word dripping with charm. By the end of the night, Ben was smitten, though he hadn’t let it show too much.

So when Charles invited him over for a casual evening of “Netflix and chill,” Ben had hesitated at first. It wasn’t something he usually did, and he had a hard and fast rule about not rushing into things. But Charles was different. Just being near him made Ben feel good in a way he couldn’t explain. Relaxed. Safe. Drawn in.

That’s how he found himself standing in front of Charles’ apartment door a few weeks later, shifting his weight nervously as he knocked. He’d gone for his usual laid-back look: a simple shirt, shorts, and sneakers. Nothing too flashy, but he felt comfortable. He bit his lip as he waited, butterflies flitting in his stomach.

The door opened, and there was Charles, more handsome than ever. He was dressed casually in gray joggers, a tight-fitting shirt that showed off his lean physique, and socks. His face lit up with a serene smile, but his eyes sparkled with something playful, something knowing.

“Benny,” Charles greeted warmly, his voice as smooth as ever. His gaze swept over Ben, not in a way that made him feel self-conscious, but appreciated. “Come in.”

Ben stepped inside, and Charles led him into the living room. The space was minimal but stylish, with clean lines and soft lighting. On the coffee table sat a bottle of wine, two glasses, and an assortment of snacks. It was cozy, inviting. Ben’s initial nerves began to melt away.

“I already picked a movie,” Charles said as he gestured for Ben to sit. “You’ll like it. It’s… so meaningful.”

Ben chuckled, unsure what that meant. “Okay, I’m intrigued.”

Charles settled in beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Ben could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his presence was calming, magnetic. Charles poured them each a glass of wine, handed one to Ben, and picked up the remote.

“Let’s see,” Charles said with a smile, pointing the remote at the TV.

The screen lit up, and instead of the Netflix homepage Ben expected, a vibrant, colorful spiral burst to life. It twisted and turned, the hues shifting seamlessly in mesmerizing patterns. Ben blinked, momentarily confused.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice light with curiosity.

Charles chuckled softly. “Just watch it, Benny. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Ben’s eyes were drawn back to the screen almost instinctively. The spiral was indeed beautiful, each movement smooth and hypnotic. He couldn’t look away.

Charles’ voice came again, low and soothing. “So beautiful, so alluring. You don’t need to think about it too much. Just let yourself watch it.”

Ben shifted in his seat, trying to focus on what Charles was saying, but his gaze kept returning to the spiral. There was something so calming about it.

“Do you feel it, Benny?” Charles continued. His voice seemed to deepen, each word drawing Ben closer. “How your body begins to feel warm? So relaxed, so tingly. Like all the stress of the week is melting away.”

Ben blinked slowly. His limbs felt heavy, yet a pleasant warmth spread through him, lulling him into a sense of ease he hadn’t known he needed.

“Yeah…” he murmured, not even sure why he responded.

Charles smiled, his hand resting lightly on Ben’s arm. “It’s been a long week, hasn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice to just… focus for a while? On my voice, on my words.”

Ben wanted to question it, wanted to ask what was happening, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He just kept staring at the spiral, its endless motion captivating him more with each second.

“That’s it,” Charles said, his tone soft yet commanding. “Feel your body relax, Benny. Let your muscles go limp, one by one. Just let go. You can trust me.”

Ben’s shoulders sagged, his body melting into the couch. A part of his mind screamed that this wasn’t normal, that he should snap out of it, but the rest of him felt so… good. Safe.

“Your body rests, and your mind begins to rest with it,” Charles continued, his voice wrapping around Ben like a blanket. “Doesn’t it feel nice? To let me in?”

Ben nodded weakly, his lips barely moving. The spiral was all he could see, and Charles’ voice was all he could hear. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only this moment.

And then Charles leaned closer, his lips near Ben’s ear. “Good boy, Benny. You’re doing so well. Now, let’s go even deeper…”

Ben’s head lolled against the back of the couch, his lips slightly parted as he stared into the swirling abyss on the television screen. Time felt slippery—had it been minutes? Hours? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. The sensations coursing through him were all that mattered. Charles’ voice guided him like a tether, soothing and irresistible, each word wrapping around him like a warm, silken cocoon.

“You stopped wondering what was happening a while ago,” Charles murmured, his tone intimate and laced with authority. He was close—Ben could feel the faint brush of his breath. “Or has it been hours, Benny? You can’t tell anymore, can you?”

Ben’s lips moved, but no sound came out. The thought of speaking felt distant, irrelevant. All he could do was sink deeper into the pleasurable haze Charles was weaving around him.

“Everything is just a pleasurable swamp of need now,” Charles continued, his voice curling into Ben’s thoughts like tendrils of smoke. “Your body. Your mind. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is how good you feel.”

Ben’s body responded involuntarily, a soft shiver coursing through him. He was dimly aware of his limbs moving, of his body shifting, but the hows and whys were lost to him. The effort of questioning seemed insurmountable, like wading through molasses. Instead, he let himself drift, wrapped in warmth and the promise of pleasure.

“Just the idea of resisting… it feels like too much work, doesn’t it?” Charles asked, his voice almost teasing. “Why fight the pleasure? The warmth that surrounds you. That engulfs you. That entices you.”

Ben felt a wave of heat bloom from his core, spreading outward until it seemed to touch every nerve. His mind, already softened and pliable, melted further under the weight of Charles’ words. Thoughts bubbled up like steam and then evaporated, leaving behind only a need that pulsed in time with his racing heart.

“The pleasure melts your thoughts, Benny,” Charles said softly. “It makes them leak out. And how could you resist when there’s nothing left? When your thoughts have just… dripped away.”

Ben’s breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping him. Somewhere, deep down, a part of him recognized the oddity of what was happening—the way it felt like he was observing himself from a distance, like an outsider looking in. But even that flicker of awareness was fleeting, drowned by the steady rhythm of Charles’ voice and the seductive pull of the spiral.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Charles said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial edge. “It feels like you’re having a conversation in your head, doesn’t it? Like someone else is talking about you, but not to you. But that’s silly, isn’t it? You’re alone, Benny. There’s only you.”

And Charles, Ben thought faintly, though the notion seemed to dissolve as quickly as it formed.

“I can’t resist,” Ben whispered, startled by the sound of his own voice. It came out clear and unbidden, as if it had been planted there and simply bloomed into existence. A tiny spark of panic tried to ignite, but it was extinguished instantly by a sudden, overwhelming burst of pleasure.

It started in his core, a white-hot bloom that radiated outward in waves. Ben gasped, his body arching slightly as the sensation consumed him. He felt his arousal peak, trembling on the edge of release, but it didn’t happen. Instead, the pleasure held him there, suspended, teasing him with its intensity.

“I am a good boy,” he heard himself say, the words slipping out without thought or hesitation.

The moment the words left his lips, the pleasure intensified, flooding him with another surge of heat. His mind felt like it was unraveling, each thread of thought dissolving into nothingness as his body obeyed without question. His hand moved—he wasn’t sure when it had started, or how—but it moved in slow, rhythmic motions, driven by a force he couldn’t control.

“Deeper down,” Charles coaxed, his voice a steady anchor. “Feel the pleasure guide you. Let it take you deeper, Benny. Let it wash through you.”

Ben’s hand moved in time with Charles’ words, and his mind followed. Each pulse of pleasure pulled him further down, stripping away what little resistance remained. He felt weightless, untethered, floating in a sea of warmth and arousal. His thoughts, already thin and fragile, collapsed entirely.

Ben's breathing quickened as he sat transfixed by the spiral on the screen, his mind melting into the swirling colors and Charles’ intoxicating voice. His body was warm and heavy, the tension in his muscles long since dissolved. The arousal burning through him was undeniable now, sharp and aching, straining against the fabric of his shorts. He wasn’t sure when it had begun, but it was impossible to ignore.

Charles chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate. “You’re so close, Benny,” he murmured, his hand resting lightly on Ben’s thigh. The touch was warm, firm, and grounding in a way that made Ben’s already scrambled thoughts dissolve further. “I can feel it. You’re holding so much inside, aren’t you? So much tension. So much need.”

Ben swallowed hard, his body shivering as Charles’ hand moved slowly, teasingly. The pressure on his thigh sent sparks of pleasure racing through him, each one pulling him deeper into the haze.

“You don’t need to hold it back,” Charles said, his tone both soothing and commanding. “Let me take care of you. Let me guide you, Benny.”

Ben moaned softly, his hips shifting involuntarily as the tension inside him built to an unbearable peak. He felt Charles’ fingers trail higher, pausing just shy of his cock. The anticipation was maddening, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak or move.

“You’re so good,” Charles continued, his hand now firmly cupping Ben’s bulge through the strained fabric of his shorts. “So obedient. So ready to let go.”

The contact made Ben gasp, his body trembling as pleasure surged through him. He was leaking now, the damp spot on his shorts unmistakable. Charles chuckled again, a note of playful satisfaction in his voice.

“Such a good boy,” he teased, applying just enough pressure to make Ben squirm. “You feel it, don’t you? How close you are? How much you need this?”

Ben nodded weakly, his head lolling to the side as his need consumed him. His body was no longer his own—every movement, every sensation was dictated by Charles’ touch, his voice.

Charles’ other hand came up to cradle Ben’s face, his thumb brushing gently over his cheek. “Look at you,” he said softly. “Completely mine. Isn’t that right, Benny?”

Ben’s lips moved, but no words came out. His thoughts were too scattered, too drenched in pleasure to form anything coherent. He felt himself leaning into Charles’ touch, his entire being surrendering to the man who had claimed him so thoroughly.

“Say it,” Charles coaxed, his voice a velvet whisper. “Say you’re mine, Benny. Let go. Let me have you.”

“I’m yours,” Ben whispered, the words tumbling from his lips without hesitation. His voice was breathy, broken, but filled with certainty.

The moment he said it, Charles leaned closer, his lips brushing against Ben’s ear. “Good boy,” he murmured. “Let go, Benny. Become mine.”

Ben’s entire body shuddered as the command sank into him, deeper than anything he’d ever felt. The pleasure, already overwhelming, surged to new heights, washing over him in wave after wave until he thought he might drown in it. His mind, already blank, dissolved entirely, leaving nothing but the echo of Charles’ words and the bliss that consumed him.

His back arched sharply, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he released against Charles’ hand. The thin fabric of his shorts clung to him, darkened by the evidence of his surrender, unable to contain the full extent of his release.

Charles’ chuckle was low and satisfied, a sound that made Ben shudder with lingering arousal. His hand remained firm, teasing and encouraging. “That’s it, Benny,” Charles said, his voice smooth and approving. “Keep going. Don’t hold back. Let it all out.”

Ben whimpered, his head tilting back as his eyes rolled. The pleasure didn’t ebb; it built and twisted inside him, pushing him to the brink again and again. His body trembled uncontrollably, his muscles spasming before finally going limp, leaving him slumped against the couch.

“Good boy,” Charles murmured, his tone dripping with warmth and pride. His hand moved from Ben’s soaked shorts to his face, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers. The touch was soothing, grounding, a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just happened.

Ben’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, his mind still swimming in the aftermath. His thoughts were soft and distant, his body utterly spent, but the sound of Charles’ voice anchored him.

“You’ve done so well,” Charles continued, brushing a stray strand of hair from Ben’s forehead. “You’re perfect, Benny. My good boy.”

Ben sighed softly, leaning into the touch. He felt weightless, floating in the warmth of Charles’ approval. Nothing else mattered—only this moment, and the man who had claimed him so completely.

Charles leaned back on the couch, a satisfied smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he took in the sight before him. Ben was a picture of pure surrender—his body slumped and trembling, his shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. The fabric of his shorts was soaked, sticking to his thighs, and Charles’ own hand bore the evidence of Ben’s unrestrained release, sticky and glistening.

Ben’s eyes were unfocused, half-lidded and glazed over, staring at nothing. His jaw hung slack, soft breaths escaping in uneven intervals. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, the effort leaving him even more vulnerable.

Charles tilted his head, his sharp gaze drinking in every detail—the tremor in Ben’s limbs, the flush that painted his cheeks, the way his body seemed to hum with the remnants of pleasure.

“You’re utterly spent,” Charles murmured, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Completely gone, aren’t you, Benny?”

Ben gave no response, his mind too far gone to process the words. It was as if every ounce of him had been drained, leaving only an empty vessel behind.

Charles leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a finger along Ben’s slackened jaw. The simple touch drew a faint sigh from Ben’s lips, a small sound that only deepened Charles’ amusement.

“You’ve done so well for me,” Charles said softly, his voice almost a purr. “Such a good boy. Just look at you.”

He chuckled again, low and indulgent, savoring the sight of Ben in his utterly surrendered state. There was no need to rush—Ben wasn’t going anywhere. He was right where Charles wanted him, lost and malleable, a masterpiece of submission.

Charles leaned back once more, his smirk broadening as he picked up his glass of wine, taking a slow sip. The night was far from over, but for now, he was content to simply bask in the result of his work. Ben, sweaty and trembling, completely undone, was the perfect picture of blissful ruin.

The spiral on the screen continued its mesmerizing dance, its colors swirling in endless, hypnotic patterns. Even in his utterly spent state, Ben’s body moved on its own, his hand sliding over the damp fabric of his shorts. The wetness clung to his skin, but he didn’t seem to care. He was lost, his mind floating in the pleasurable haze that Charles had woven around him.

Charles chuckled softly, the sound laced with amusement and satisfaction. “Silly boy,” he murmured, watching as Ben’s fingers toyed with himself through the soaked fabric, a faint, needy whimper escaping his lips.

With a click of the remote, the TV screen went black, plunging the room into a sudden stillness. The absence of the swirling spiral only seemed to emphasize the quiet, intimate atmosphere. Charles leaned forward again, his hand coming to rest gently on Ben’s face. His thumb traced along Ben’s cheek, wiping away the faint trail of drool that had escaped his slackened lips.

Ben sighed softly at the touch, leaning into Charles’ hand instinctively, his body responding even though his mind was still far away.

“I’m so glad we matched” Charles murmured, his voice warm and low. His thumb moved to brush over Ben’s bottom lip, his touch both tender and possessive. “You’re so handsome, Benny. My handsome boy.”

The words wrapped around Ben like a cocoon, drawing another faint moan from his lips. His eyes fluttered, but they remained unfocused, his body pliant under Charles’ hand.

Charles leaned closer, pressing his forehead against Ben’s for a moment, the intimacy of the gesture deepening the bond he had so carefully cultivated. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Aren’t you, my beautiful boy?”

Ben’s lips moved faintly, the words forming without thought, a soft and automatic response. “Yours,” he whispered, his voice fragile but certain.

Charles smiled, his satisfaction evident as he pulled back slightly to admire his work. His hand lingered on Ben’s face, his fingers brushing against his jawline as if to reassure him. “That’s right,” he said softly. “You’re mine, Benny. Always.”

Charles' hand moved with deliberate intent, his fingers brushing over the wet, clinging fabric of Ben's shorts. He pressed firmly against the sensitive flesh beneath, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Ben. The sound was soft, barely audible, but it was enough to make Charles’ smirk deepen.

“And this,” Charles murmured, his voice low and commanding, “this is mine too.”

Ben’s body responded instantly, a tremor running through him as Charles’ grip tightened slightly, possessive and unyielding. Ben’s head lolled to the side, his lips parting in a faint moan, his entire being surrendering to the touch.

“You feel that, Benny?” Charles asked, his tone teasing but laced with authority. “Every part of you belongs to me now. Isn’t that right?”

Ben whimpered, his hips shifting instinctively toward Charles’ hand. His words, when they came, were barely above a whisper. “Yours…”

Charles’ chuckle was quiet, almost tender, as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from Ben’s. “Good boy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against the damp fabric, savoring the way Ben’s body shivered beneath him.

“This is just the beginning,” Charles added, his voice a seductive promise. “You’ll learn, Benny. You’ll understand what it means to be mine.”

Ben couldn’t respond—his mind was too far gone, his body too overwhelmed. All he could do was surrender, letting Charles guide him further into the haze of pleasure and submission.

[zdumbjock]

featherlight

Adrian trudged through the crisp night air, his breath visible in soft puffs that dissipated into the void. It had been another grueling day at work, and his nightly walks had become a cherished ritual—a way to leave the weight of spreadsheets, emails, and constant demands behind. Dressed in his black North Face jacket, Adidas hoodie, joggers, and sneakers, he blended into the shadows, moving like a specter along the quiet streets.

When he finally reached his apartment building, he was eager for nothing more than to crawl into bed. The towering brick structure loomed over him, its familiar facade inviting yet indifferent. He pushed through the glass door, the warmth of the lobby embracing him like a gentle reprieve from the cold outside. He pressed the elevator button, eyes heavy with fatigue, waiting for the slow machinery to creak its way down.

The faint hum of the elevator accompanied the fluorescent buzz of the dimly lit lobby. Adrian rolled his neck, a satisfying crack releasing some of the tension from his shoulders. Just as the elevator doors slid open with a sluggish groan, he heard it—a voice that grated against his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"Ah, Adrian! Late night, huh? You always take those walks, don’t ya?"

Adrian barely suppressed a sigh. It was him. The older neighbor. The one who rambled incessantly, about anything and everything, and whose words never seemed to form a coherent thought. He was always lurking, always talking, always oblivious to the discomfort of those around him.

Adrian nodded politely, a reflex more than anything else. He hoped his silence would deter the man, but it rarely did. The man shuffled closer, his mismatched layers of clothing rustling faintly.

"You know, these elevators are slower than molasses in January," the man started, stepping inside as Adrian followed, resigned.

The two pressed their respective floor buttons—5th for the man, 8th for Adrian—and the doors creaked shut.

Adrian leaned against the wall, his mind already beginning to drift as the man’s voice filled the small space. It was the usual meaningless stream of words, a torrent of thoughts that never seemed to connect. Adrian’s gaze unfocused, his thoughts blurring into static.

Then, he felt it.

A tingling sensation spread through his limbs, faint at first but growing steadily. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it felt... nice. Warm. Like sinking into a hot bath after a cold day. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

The man’s voice became more distinct, cutting through the haze.

"Oh, it must feel so good to just listen to me talk, and space out. To relax and just listen to me ramble."

Adrian nodded slowly, almost involuntarily. "Uh-huh," he murmured, his voice soft and distant.

The man smirked, his tone shifting ever so slightly, taking on a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.

"Good boy. As the elevator goes up and up, your body feels so nice, weightless, as if you were floating. You space out and relax even more. Your body tingling with pleasure, as you hear..."

Adrian’s head lolled slightly, the words washing over him in waves. The elevator dinged softly as it reached the 5th floor. The doors slid open, but the man didn’t step out.

Instead, the doors closed, and the elevator resumed its slow ascent.

"You tingle more and more, and relax. All of you," the man continued, his voice a gentle cadence that seemed to wrap around Adrian like a cocoon.

Adrian felt weightless, the sensation intensifying with each passing second. When the elevator dinged again, signaling the 8th floor, he let out a deep sigh. His body felt numb, heavy and light all at once, as if tethered to reality by the thinnest thread. He didn't step out, he just stood there, listening.

But the man wasn’t done.

He pressed the 2nd-floor button. The elevator descended, the motion smooth and rhythmic.

"It feels so nice and good, that you fall into a deep, tingly..." The man’s voice lowered, rich and velvety, almost a purr. His arm reached out, steadying Adrian.

"Sleep."

The man’s finger tapped gently against Adrian’s forehead, and the younger man’s body went slack. He collapsed into the man’s waiting arms, his breathing slow and steady, his face serene.

"That’s a good boy. Good job," the man murmured, cradling Adrian’s limp form as the elevator continued its descent.

The rest of the building was silent, unaware of what had just transpired within the confines of the tiny metal box. And as the elevator dinged once more, signaling its arrival at the 2nd floor, the man smiled.

The man held Adrian close, steadying the younger man’s swaying form. Adrian’s head lolled slightly, his breathing slow and even, his body pliant against the man’s touch.

"Can you feel it, boy?" the man murmured, his voice low and soothing. "So weightless. Just listen to my voice. Space out, relax."

Adrian sighed under his breath, his lips parting slightly as he let out a faint "uhuh." The sound was barely audible, but it brought a chuckle from the man.

The older man pressed the 5th-floor button once more. As the elevator ascended, he stroked Adrian’s arm, guiding him gently to lean more heavily against him.

"Come on, boy," the man whispered, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Let’s get you home. To my place."

Adrian nodded weakly, his half-lidded eyes unfocused and glassy. "Uhuh," he repeated, his voice thick and distant.

The elevator finally came to a stop, and the man adjusted his grip on Adrian, leading him out into the dim hallway. It was late, and the building was silent save for the faint hum of the lights overhead. He moved with purpose, guiding Adrian toward his flat at the end of the corridor.

The man paused briefly at his door, glancing up at the security camera mounted above. A smirk played across his lips as he recalled the malfunction that had conveniently gone unrepaired for weeks. With a quick turn of the key, he opened his front door and ushered Adrian inside.

Once the door clicked shut, the man stepped back, observing Adrian as the younger man swayed unsteadily on his feet. His posture was slack, his body seemingly too heavy for him to control. His drooping eyelids and the faint trail of drool at the corner of his mouth made him look utterly lost, as though he were a puppet waiting for its strings to be pulled.

The man approached him slowly, his hand brushing over the thick fabric of Adrian’s jacket and hoodie.

"You can barely stand," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and triumph. "So easy. I knew I’d get you eventually, little Adrian."

He leaned closer, his fingers tracing a slow line down Adrian’s cheek before cupping it gently. The younger man’s skin was warm beneath his touch, his expression blank and docile.

"You don’t even know, do you?" the man teased, his thumb brushing lightly over Adrian’s lips. "How long I’ve been waiting for this moment. How long I’ve been watching you, planning this."

Adrian’s lips curved into a faint, lazy smile, but no coherent words escaped him. His body remained motionless except for the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

The man’s grin widened as he stepped back, unzipping Adrian’s jacket and slipping it off his shoulders. "Let’s get you comfortable, boy," he murmured, his tone soft but commanding.

The man ran his hands slowly over the inside of Adrian's jacket, feeling the lingering warmth that clung to the fabric. He discarded it to the floor with a soft thud, his attention now solely on the figure before him. Adrian swayed in place, his movements slow and rhythmic, like a pendulum guided by an unseen force.

The man stepped closer, his hands roaming over Adrian’s chest, tracing the contours of his hoodie. He slid his palms over Adrian’s shoulders and arms, feeling the firm yet relaxed muscles beneath the fabric. His touch moved upward, brushing against Adrian’s neck, then cupping his face with both hands. He caressed Adrian’s cheek with his thumb, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Listen to me, little Adrian," he said softly, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the haze that enveloped the younger man’s mind. "I’m going to count from ten to one, and as I do, you’ll fall even deeper into this trance. Deeper into relaxation. Deeper into bliss. Do you understand?"

Adrian’s lips parted slightly, his head tilting just enough to suggest a nod.

The man began, his voice low and deliberate:

"10." He stroked Adrian’s cheek. "It feels good to relax and have a release from all the stress."

Adrian let out a faint sigh, his shoulders slumping further.

"9." The man’s hands slid back down to Adrian’s chest, pressing gently. "It feels good to let someone else take control from you."

Adrian’s body swayed, leaning into the man’s touch as though seeking support.

"8." The man circled behind Adrian, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. "It feels good to be blissfully obedient."

A small smile graced Adrian’s face, his breathing deep and even.

"7." The man’s thumbs kneaded Adrian’s shoulders gently. "It feels good to rest your tired mind."

Adrian’s head lolled forward slightly, his posture loose and pliant.

"6." The man leaned in, his voice close to Adrian’s ear. "It feels good to no longer think."

Adrian exhaled slowly, his body almost sagging under the weight of the suggestion.

"5." The man stepped back in front of him, holding Adrian steady by his arms. "It feels good to be counted down, just like now."

Adrian swayed again, as if tethered to the man’s words.

"4." The man traced his fingers along Adrian’s jawline. "It feels good to be hypnotized, just like now."

Adrian’s head tilted into the touch, his expression utterly serene.

"3." The man’s hand moved back to Adrian’s chest, pressing gently. "It feels good to give in."

Adrian’s lips parted again, a faint "uhuh" escaping them.

"2." The man leaned closer, his tone dropping to an intimate whisper. "It feels good to stop resisting."

Adrian’s body stilled, as though every ounce of tension had drained from him completely.

"1." The man tapped Adrian’s forehead lightly. "It feels good to drop."

As soon as the words left his lips, Adrian’s legs gave out, and he slumped forward. The man caught him with practiced ease, guiding him carefully to his knees before lowering him onto the soft rug of the living room floor.

"That’s it," the man murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Adrian’s forehead. "Good boy. So easy, so willing."

Adrian lay motionless, his body completely relaxed, his breathing slow and steady. The man knelt beside him, watching intently as the younger man’s chest rose and fell.

"Now," he said softly, almost to himself. "Let’s see just how far you can go."

The man knelt beside Adrian, his fingers trailing gently along the younger man's slackened face. Adrian's features were serene, his lips parted slightly, a thin line of drool glistening at the corner of his mouth. The man’s gaze wandered down, and he smirked as he noticed the unmistakable strain in Adrian’s joggers.

"Well, well," he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly against Adrian’s cheek. "Someone’s really into this."

The man lets one hand wander down, brushing over Adrian's chest before reaching the bulge forming inside the tight pants.

"You're quite something," the man mumbled more to himself than to Adrian as he traces the tangible outlines of the young mans erection.

He gave Adrian’s shoulder a firm pat. "Get up, Adrian."

Adrian obeyed, his movements slow and deliberate, like a marionette responding to its puppeteer. He stood unsteadily, his broad shoulders slack, his body language exuding submission. The man took a step back, admiring him. Adrian’s muscular frame filled out his hoodie and joggers perfectly, a testament to years of dedication and discipline. And yet, here he was, as pliant and malleable as anyone else who had fallen into his web.

"You’re a sight, aren’t you?" the man murmured, stepping closer. He placed one hand on the bulge straining against Adrian’s joggers, the other gently caressing his cheek. Adrian sighed softly, his glassy eyes barely registering the touch.

"Listen to me, Adrian," the man said, his voice a low, soothing hum. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to leak."

Adrian’s breath hitched faintly, his body reacting to the words even as his mind remained shrouded in fog.

"Let your thoughts," the man continued, his hand pressing slightly against the growing wetness, "leak out of the tip of your cock. Feel them leaving you, one by one."

Adrian’s eyelids fluttered, and a faint groan escaped his lips as a wave of warmth spread through his groin, the sensation both overwhelming and irresistible.

"Finding that," the man said, his tone firm yet soothing, "the more you leak, the harder it gets to think."

Adrian’s head lolled slightly, his lips moving soundlessly, his mind struggling to form even the simplest of thoughts.

"The more you can just focus on me," the man said, his hand sliding up to Adrian’s chest, fingers splaying over his rapid heartbeat, "and ignore everything else."

Adrian let out another faint sigh, his breathing becoming heavier as the warmth and wetness grew.

"The more you can just leak for me."

Adrian’s body trembled slightly, his knees threatening to buckle as his cock obeyed the command. His drooling intensified, and his head tilted forward, a soft "uhuh" escaping his lips.

"Good boy," the man murmured, his grin widening. He stepped back slightly, his hands still resting on Adrian, as though grounding him in place. "Now, listen closely. When I count down from five to one, you will release all your thoughts at once. All of them. Every stray idea, every remaining thread of resistance. Release it all. And in that moment, you will become mine. Do you understand?"

Adrian let out a faint, incoherent mumble that sounded like agreement.

"Good. Let’s begin."

"5." His hand pressed gently against Adrian’s chest. "Feel it building, all that tension, all those thoughts, ready to pour out."

Adrian’s body tensed slightly, a shiver running down his spine.

"4." The man’s hand moved back to the bulge at Adrian’s joggers, applying the slightest pressure. "The wetness grows. The warmth spreads. You can’t hold it back anymore."

Adrian let out a soft whimper, his body trembling with anticipation.

"3." The man caressed Adrian’s cheek again, his thumb brushing against his lips. "You’re so close now. So ready to let it all go."

Adrian leaned into the touch, his lips parting as a bead of drool slipped free.

"2." The man’s voice was a whisper, yet it filled the room. "All your thoughts, all your resistance, slipping away."

Adrian’s body sagged slightly, his muscles going slack as the last vestiges of tension drained from him.

"1." The man’s hand pressed firmly against Adrian’s chest. "Release."

The man caught Adrian as his legs gave way, holding him close as the younger man moaned softly, his head tilting back, eyes rolling until only the whites showed. A pleased smirk played on the man’s lips as he felt the warm wetness soak through Adrian’s joggers, trickling down his legs in a sticky stream.

"Good boy," he murmured, his voice low and taunting, brushing Adrian’s damp cheek with his thumb. Adrian drooled freely, completely oblivious to anything but the bliss coursing through him.

The man chuckled, his hand running down Adrian’s drenched joggers, feeling the heat beneath the soaked fabric. Adrian shivered at the touch, his lips parting to let out another soft moan. The man pressed his hand against the wetness before slipping it beneath Adrian’s hoodie, his fingers grazing the taut, warm skin of Adrian’s chest.

"What a night, huh?" he teased, letting his hand roam, tracing the contours of Adrian’s muscles. The way his chest rose and fell, strained yet yielding, brought a satisfied gleam to the man’s eyes.

He caressed Adrian’s face again, savoring the texture of his stubble and the warmth of his flushed, wet lips. The touch was both tender and possessive, claiming Adrian’s unguarded state as entirely his.

Adrian, meanwhile, existed in a blissful emptiness. His mind was a blank slate, his body responding instinctively to every touch. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, as he drooled, utterly detached from thought or resistance. One of his hands drifted unconsciously to the soaked bulge of his joggers, cupping it gently.

The man noticed and chuckled, leaning in to mock him. "Look at you," he murmured. "You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?"

He guided Adrian’s hand away and slipped his own under the hoodie again, brushing over Adrian’s chest one last time before stepping back. Adjusting his grip, he helped Adrian to his feet, steadying him as the younger man swayed.

"There we go," he said, his tone light yet smug as he admired Adrian. The soaked joggers, the slack posture, the vacant expression—it was everything he had hoped for.

"Now," he said, brushing a hand over Adrian’s hair to smooth it, "it’s late, and I need to get you into bed, huh? Long day?"

The man reached down, picking up Adrian’s discarded jacket. He held it to his nose for a brief moment, taking a short sniff.

He draped the jacket over Adrian’s shoulders, guiding his arms through the sleeves before zipping it up snugly. He cupped Adrian’s face again, his thumb brushing against his cheek as he spoke with quiet authority.

"Listen," the man said firmly, his tone commanding. "Any time you hear me say the word drop, you will fall back into this state. A state where nothing else matters but my word. Understood?"

Adrian gave the faintest nod, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"Good boy," the man said again, leading Adrian toward the door.

He led Adrian out into the hallway, steadying him as they walked. The building was quiet, the hum of the elevator audible as they approached. The man pressed the button, and the doors slid open with a soft ding. He guided Adrian inside, pressing the button for the 8th floor before turning to face him.

As the doors began to close, the man leaned in and whispered, "Drop."

Adrian’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second before his eyes fluttered open, the haze in his gaze clearing slightly. He blinked groggily, his head feeling heavy and muddled.

"Wha…?" he muttered, rubbing his temple as he tried to orient himself.

The warmth at his groin registered next, sticky and damp, spreading uncomfortably against his skin. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, though he couldn’t quite remember what had happened. All he knew was that it felt… good.

Adrian glanced around the empty elevator, relieved that no one else was there to witness him in this disheveled, disoriented state. He leaned back against the wall, letting out a soft sigh.

"Must’ve been a weird dream," he muttered to himself, brushing a hand through his hair as the elevator dinged softly, signaling his floor.

As the doors slid open, Adrian stepped out, still feeling groggy but oddly at ease. Whatever had happened, he couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of warmth and comfort. He glanced back briefly, his mind foggy but his instincts telling him someone had been with him. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought, chalking it up to his exhaustion.

He fumbled with his keys, entered his apartment, and collapsed onto his bed. As his eyes drifted closed, a faint smile played on his lips, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

[zdumbjock]

Hypnoapp

When his phone binged, Quinn didn’t pay attention to it.  He rarely did these days.  It wasn’t that he was trying to ignore anyone.  It was just that he had lived with a smartphone for years, and the requirements for software updates were normal to him.  So when the phone requested that the camera application be updated, he just accepted without thinking more about it.  And so the hypnoapp lay quiescent, waiting for it’s opportunity.

That came a few days later, as Quinn was getting ready for a party, and decided to take a selfie.  He posed before his bathroom mirror, raised his phone, and hit the button.  It seemed to take the picture, but then dissolved into a field of rapidly flashing black and white areas.  The shutter sound also began repeating, a rolling series of clicks in time with the flashes.

Oh, what the hell is… wrong with… this thing now. Quinn thought, his mind already beginning to slow down.  He didn’t notice that slowness, nor that he was still holding the pose he’d taken the picture in.  He just stared at the image, his face becoming more slack as the app took over his mind. Didn’t this… just get… an update… Must be… bugged… somehow…  Wonder… how… many… seen… this…  watched… staring… pretty… flashes… watch… forever…

For five minutes Quinn stood, his mind empty, listening to the clicks and absorbing what they had to teach him.  Then the app moved to stage 2, opening up communication.  The clicks faded to a background as a voice sounded from the phone.  “Connection established.  Subject, stand up straight and identify.”

The words meant little to Quinn’s addled brain, but another part clearly understood.  His body moved without his control.  Without taking his eyes off the flashing phone, his body stood up and said “Unit identified as Subject Q.  Subject’s body originally designated Quinn. Subject Q is alone and awaiting orders.”  What was left of Quinn’s mind was shocked at this.  Orders…  what…

“Excellent. Display chest for the camera, slave.”

As his hand went for the edge of his shirt, Quinn tried to stop it. No… not… slave… must… resist… He wasn’t able to stop the arm from moving, but he was able to splay the fingers of his hand, trying to stop it from being able to grab the hem.  Instead, the body just hooked his thumb under it and lifted.

The master in control of the Hypnoapp noticed this.  “Hmm, it seems that Quinn is still awake a bit, eh?  Well, I know what will loosen your grip. Subject Q, drop the shirt and display cock.”  This order was accompanied by a intensification of the flashes on the phone.  Quinn suddenly realized where the control was coming from, and changed his efforts to control the hand holding the phone.  He didn’t try to resist his body unzipping his shorts and pulling his hardening cock out.  

Quinn was just starting to get some control of the hand when suddenly his cock fully hardened and plunged his mind into ecstasy.  His body stayed perfectly still as his cock twitched, the program feeding all of the sensations to Quinn rather than Subject Q.  Quinn tried valiantly to hold on amidst this stimulation, but the program expertly held him on the edge.  Feels so good… No… going to… break this…  gonna… get… free… gonna… cummmmm….

The last vestiges of Quinn’s mind surrendered as he came, everything becoming Subject Q.  Words popped into Subject Q’s head.  “Mind designated Quinn removed.  Subject Q is blank and ready for programming”

“Excellent. Listen closely…”  And as Subject Q stood there, his cock still dripping, his new master filled his mind with his new role…

[zdumbjock]

Ben Doesn’t Think

“Mmmm, someone’s a dumb little cutie, aren’t they? Does it make my good boy all cute and stupid when Mistress grabs her cock like this? Hmm?” Nomi squeezed her pelvic muscles, trapping the head of Ben’s throbbing cock inside the slick folds of her pussy before slowly lowering herself down until the pink shaft disappeared between her dark brown labia. He let out an absolutely delicious moan in response, his eyes rolling back in his head until only the whites showed. “That’s my good boy,” she purred, gently caressing his chest with her long fingernails. “That’s my sweet, stupid slut. Deeper and deeper for me now, baby doll.”

Ben moaned again, too deeply hypnotized now to make his brain form even the small and simple words her conditioning usually reduced him to when she played with his head like this. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, aching to release the load of hot sticky semen that churned away inside his heavy balls, but Nomi didn’t have any intention of letting him cum just yet. Not when she was enjoying being fucked so very, very much… and not when she knew that her good boy got so much pleasure out of having his orgasms completely under her control. “That’s it, babe,” she growled, husky arousal creeping into her smooth, sensual tones. “My good boy is too horny to think. His cock is doing all the thinking for him.”

She smiled, giving him a long and passionate kiss before she continued. “Cutie pie’s cock really thinks for him all the time, doesn’t it? Oh, sometimes he thinks he thinks, but that’s just because he’s too dumb even to know how dumb he really is. His cock is tricking him into believing his ideas are his own, when really they’re just Mistress’s programming inside his empty, obedient brain.” Nomi watched Ben give a long, shuddering gasp of arousal and knew that she was absolutely hammering on his hot buttons. Depersonalization and objectification had long been among his favorite kinks, even before they started to get into brainwashing play together, and disassociating him from his own penis was bound to turn him on. Nomi suspected he’d have cum already if she let him.

“My good little fucktoy doesn’t have any brains,” she growled, riding him faster and faster as her own orgasm approached. “All the brains are down in his cock now. And his cock does whatever Mistress tells it to.” Nomi’s breath quickened. She had the sudden, faintly disconcerting realization that nobody was around to stop her from cumming, and this one felt like a goddamned tactical nuke of a climax from the way it was building up. She wasn’t sure she could hold it back if she tried. “M-Mistress owns his cock,” she gasped, struggling to get the words out now. “It’s her, her property.”

Nomi was bouncing up and down on Ben’s shaft now, grinding and squeezing as tightly as she could, testing the limits of her hypnotic control over his orgasms. “She, she owns his cock and his c-cock makes him hhhh… hhh… helpless,” she whimpered, feeling a tidal wave of pleasure crest over her defenses. “He doesn’t think, he doesn’t think, he doesn’t f-fucking th-think!” The final word came out in a wail as Nomi sank down onto her lover all the way, clenching her soaking cunt tightly around him until the world around her went white with ecstasy. “Oh fuck, oh cum, oh fucking fucking cum yes please yes cum!” Ben’s hips strained up to meet her, then, and Nomi sighed in utter bliss at the warm, sticky sensation of his semen dripping out of her slick pussy. She took a moment to slump down onto him, but they both knew she wasn’t done. Not when she had so many wonderful new thoughts to fill that empty head with.

(Like this flash fiction? Want to see more? Visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox or drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox if you like my work!)

[zdumbjock]

Getting Dick Dumb

It took Ken maybe twenty minutes to hit the liquor store and get back, but it turned out that was long enough for Sam to talk his girlfriend clean out of her clothes and his. When he walked back into the living room with a couple of twelve-packs, Emily had her head in Sam's lap and her lips wrapped around his shaft, bobbing up and down on him with a guileless expression on her face that suggested she'd completely managed to forget Ken's entire existence in the time it took him to drive five miles out and five miles back. "S-sorry," she murmured, once Sam tightened his grip on her long blonde hair and physically pulled her away from his cock. "I guess I got, uhm, dick dumb."

Ken just stared, flabbergasted. He'd always assumed if he ever caught a guy making moves on his girlfriend he'd throw a punch, or curse up a storm, or at the very least break up with her on the spot if she acted like she was into it, but here Emily was, sliding back down onto Sam's stiff prick the second he released her head, and all he could do was watch. "I know it's a little weird," Sam added, in a sorry-not-sorry tone of voice. "But it's what happened, dude. Emily got real dick dumb and you know what it's like when they get like that. She can't really think about consequences right now. She can't really think, period, can you sweetie?" He pulled Emily back up and off his shaft, and it was the little yearning motions her lips made for the tip of his cock that convinced Ken this just wasn't some weird form of infidelity. She was really crazy for Sam's dick right now.

And her words… or at least some of them were words… only drove the point home further. "Huh? Oh, uhm, uhh, yeah. I'm, uhh… I'm too dick dumb to think." She let out a bubbly laugh, drool spilling from her still-vacant mouth to land on Sam's twitching prick, and Ken found his own cock stiffening involuntarily in sympathy. He was mad, he was hurt, he was astonished, but all those feelings were so big and so overwhelming that it left him almost numb with shock--and with his brain too stunned to process anything else, he couldn't help noticing how hot it looked to see his normally bright and witty girlfriend reduced to a horny, brainless sex kitten.

Emily extended her tongue as far as it would go, collecting a little trickle of Sam's precum and sighing in helpless ecstasy. "It's so nice to be dick dumb," she mumbled, her open mouth and desperately questing tongue making her sound slurred and incoherent with lust. "So nice to be… mmmmmmppphhhhh." Sam released her head, allowing her to plunge back down onto his cock, and Ken watched with rapt fascination as her eyes rolled back with ecstasy until only the whites showed. He realized loosely that he was moving closer and closer, getting down on his knees to get a better look, but it didn't really connect with him what was happening until his face was mere fractions of an inch away from Sam's tightening balls.

Then he heard Sam repeat, "It's so nice to be dick dumb, Ken," and he felt his resistance collapse like a house of cards as he sank forward all the way and began to lap at Sam's testicles. The beer remained by the door, entirely forgotten, as Ken and Emily found something that intoxicated them so much more.

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