I Wish…

Wrong bag, bro

Music blared from my headphones while I was running on the treadmill when I first saw the guy. It was obviously his first time in the gym, and after having gotten a short introduction, he looked around uncomfortably before approaching the weights. I sighed and stopped the treadmill. It was a good gym, at least judging from the equipment and the cost. The staff, however, was... improvable. It was clear that the new guy had no idea how to start and he would probably hurt himself like that.

"Sup? You're new here?" I said as I approached. He almost jumped when he heard my voice. I took a good look at him when he turned around. He wasn't very fit, at least compared to me. I mean, I'm no bodybuilder, too, but I do go to the gym a few times a week and try to stay in shape. The other guy was visibly unfit, with a small belly and no definition at all, but hey, we all have to start somewhere.

"Uhm. Yes. Actually, I wanted to lose a bit of weight. I'm Jonas. Do you work here?"

I chuckled. "Na, man. I'm Travis, and I just work *out* here. Why are you trying to get fit?"

Jonas seemed to be a bit embarrassed when he answered. "I... hope that will make dating easier. It's hard to find a boyfriend like... this."

He gestured down his body.

"Hey, you should do this for yourself, not for someone else. But yeah, I get what you mean. Chicks dig muscles, too."

The last part was probably unnecessary and somewhat spoiling the message, but I couldn't help it. It was a reflex to make clear I was straight. Really stupid, I know, but hey, that's just the straight genes talking.

Thankfully, Jonas took the hint and didn't hit on me as I showed him the ropes. He was mightily insecure, but a nice dude. After a while, he called it a day and we went to the locker room together. Having started early, I felt it was time to head home, too.

I took out my gym bag from my locker, as did Jonas, and got my soap out.

"Are you not going to shower?" I asked as Jonas just changed to his street shoes.

"Oh, eh, no, I'll shower at home." he said, and I understood. That guy was so self-conscious it would probably be hell for him to shower in a communal shower, so I just shrugged and said:

"Alright. See you around."

After the shower, I went to my gym bag to change into my street clothes but when I opened it, the contents seemed unfamiliar. Of course. Jonas had the same black gym bag as I did and must have grabbed the wrong one. That could happen. I just hoped I'd meet him again so we could swap back the bags. For now, it wasn't that much of a problem. I didn't have any valuables in there, and it seemed that Jonas had brought a towel as well, so I could just use his to dry myself.

What had been in there, however, were my street clothes. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, I could just wear my gym clothes until I got home, but somehow, I got curious and rummaged through the contents of the bag. There was something that immediately jumped into view and that was...

A pair of pink boxer briefs.

I mean seriously? How much gayer could it get?

I was just about to stuff it back into the back, when I hesitated. My gym compression shorts were soaked with sweat, and apparently, the boxer briefs seemed to be clean, I rationalized, but somehow, I *wanted* to put them on, for some weird reason. Well. I shrugged and just acted on the impulse, I mean, it was just a pair of underwear, right?

As it turned out, poor Jonas must have been not that well-endowed. The pair of boxer briefs was awfully tight and hugged my ass and my junk so firmly it was almost a second skin. I looked in the mirror and was a little surprised. My cock wasn't exactly small, but the underwear still didn't leave much to imagination either. But they were clean, and the fabric was quite pleasant to the touch, so I decided I would wear them until I got home.

Man, Jonas was probably in for a surprise when he discovered my XXL jockstrap from my bag. And unlike his - sorry - faggy underwear, I had worn that thing for a day now, so it wasn't exactly clean. I mean, there wasn't any reason for him to put it on, but what if he was curious? Or what if he was a little pervert who liked to experience the smell of a real man?

I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I quickly got dressed in the rest of *my* clothes and drove home. However, during the drive I couldn't quite shake the thought of how Jonas might just be sniffing my jock, jerking his pathetic little cock furiously while doing so. Man, I really had no idea what was wrong with me today. When I arrived at home, my cock was hard and leaking pre into Jonas tight little pink underwear. Looks like I needed to blow off some steam.

I put on some lesbian porn and fished out my cock and balls from its tight confines. I have to admit that jerking off while wearing Jonas' briefs was oddly exciting.

At first, my eyes were glued to the two chicks on the screen, but as I got close to shooting my load, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Images of Jonas, wearing my much too large jockstrap came immediately and unbidden, but it was too late. With a groan, I came all over my toned and defined upper body.

I needed a moment to recover after that before I could start cleaning up. I stuffed my junk back into the pink underwear without really thinking about it, but realized it wasn't quite as tight as before. Perhaps the fabric was adjusting to my bigger mass. I was just about done with wiping the cum off my chest when my phone dinged with a message from an unknown number:

Unknown number:

"Hey there, it's Jonas, from the gym today. It seems like I grabbed the wrong bag when I left, and I want to return it to you. Can you give me your address?"

I thought about it for a moment while I saved his name to my phone. He probably found my number on the lost and found card, and I was just to agree, when I stopped. There was no rational reason not to swap back the bags as soon as possible and I had no plans for today. But...

Travis:

"Sorry, man, I can't today. How about tomorrow? We can meet at the gym."

I seriously had no idea why I lied, but not-so-little Travis twitched in the underwear as I wrote the message.

Jonas:

"Sounds good. Sorry I took your bag, I only noticed when I got home."

Travis:

"Don't worry, there's nothing important in there. Just my sweaty jockstrap, haha."

What was I doing? Why would I chat with a near stranger about my underwear? I was interrupted by the answer from Jonas.

Jonas:

"Yeah, I have found that thing already."

I hesitated. My cock was straining against pink fabric again, even though I just jerked off a few minutes ago. I really shouldn't be that excited, and I really shouldn't lead the poor gay guy on, but I couldn't help it. My fingers typed all on their own.

Travis:

"I see. And what did you do with it?"

It took a while before the next answer came in, and I feared that I had alienated the guy.

Jonas:

"Well, I'm wearing it right now."

Ha! I knew it! That guy was a pervert after all. I looked down at the tight pink boxer briefs struggling to contain my erection, while a small patch of precum had formed at the tip of the tent. Takes one to know one, right?

Travis:

"That old thing? I'm sure it smells sweaty as hell right now. Can you show me?"

Almost instantly, Jonas sent a picture of himself, wearing only the jock. It was way too big and baggy on him, and I could see his whole body in all of its unfit glory.

But somehow, it didn't look so bad. Absentmindedly, I squeezed my cock while looking at the picture. Then, with a mental "What the hell", I snapped a selfie for Jonas as well, of me wearing his pink boxer briefs. I didn't care to hide my boner, although it was less obvious than I thought. Might as well give him something to drool over, right?

After I had sent the picture, I looked at myself in the mirror some more. There was disappointingly little pump on my frame considering that I just came back from the gym. In fact, I looked even smaller than before I went to the gym. That couldn't be true, right?

But the bathroom scale confirmed. This was crazy! You didn't just lose five kilograms of body mass just like that. Especially, since my body mass was mostly muscles!

I took another look at the mirror, but it was true: my arms, my legs, even my chest. Everything looked less defined than before. And my chest was pretty smooth, too. I usually shave it, but since I have a high testosterone level or something, there's always a stubble remaining. Not so today. As I felt my chest with my hand, there was only smooth skin. What the hell was going on?

I looked back at my phone, and Jonas had answered again.

Jonas:

"Looks good on you, you should wear it more often! ;)"

Did he really think so? My heartbeat quickened on the praise from Jonas, and I could feel my cock reacting again. It must have gotten soft over the whole panicking, but reading this single line from Jonas was enough for it to strain against the tight underwear again.

Except... It wasn't *that* tight anymore. Sure, it was still a pair of boxer briefs and was supposed to cling to the skin, and it did, but before, my muscular ass, pelvis and of course, my large cock had filled it to the breaking point. Not so anymore. In fact, it fit pretty snugly, and although my cock was hard as a rock, the bulge it produced was much smaller than before.

My phone dinged with another message.

Jonas:

"Are you still there, Tray? You're still in for the gym later?"

Later? I thought we had said tomorrow! And why did he call me Tray? I quickly composed an answer.

Travis:

"Do we have to? I thought we'd said tomorrow."

The answer came immediately.

Jonas:

"Stop whining, Tray! I know you wane be big like I, so you must work hart!"

I cringed from the amount of spelling mistakes, but before I could answer, Jonas sent another Pic.

Was that still the same guy as before?! Sure enough, he was wearing my jockstrap, and the face was similar, but boy was he *ripped*. His arms and legs looked like he basically lived in the gym, and his hairy chest was sitting heavily on his perfectly sculpted eight pack abs. He even had a tattoo!

I looked back to the mirror in distress. I was positively scrawny, and not just in comparison. *My* arms and legs looked like twigs from a tree that were about to break from a strong wind. And were Jonas had all that chest hair and stubble on his chin, I was totally hairless, except for my perfectly styled bleached blonde hair.

I started to hyperventilate and had to lean on the sink to not fall.

What the hell was happening here?!

The phone dinged again, and I picked it up.

Jonas:

"Excpext yu wantto let ur tongue work out insted Todays bitch canceled and I Ned so to worship my "

It was getting really difficult to read, but I got the gist of it. But that wasn't right, right? Jonas was gay, just as me, and... Hold on, I... No, Jonas. Jonas wasn't gay, he was bi. Of course, with that fuck stick inside his smelly jockstrap, he'd fuck everything that moves.

All by itself, my hand had entered my pink boxer briefs and was jerking like crazy. Luckily, there was enough room in the underwear, as it was a bit loose usually. Even with my delicate hands, I couldn't close my hand around my shaft, it was just too small for that. So, I jerked with two fingers until I could finally stop myself. My cock wasn't as important for the upcoming meeting as my beautiful ass and my eager tongue that would submissively lap up every drop of sweat from Jonas manly body, so he would reward me with that magnificent cock of his. But still, no need to spoil the fun.

Tray:

"I'm coming over right now, Sir!"

I hope you enjoyed this little switchup! A few additional images can be found at my tip jar :)

Pecs. I love them.

People who can transform into other people tend to have one part of a body they love. For me, dicks are cliché and ass is boring. I could see why people would like feet but I'm not that type of guy. But pecs. Sweet, sweet pectoralis major - the largest and superior muscle on the chest wall, that's where the gold is at.

Whenever I transform into other people, my pecs are the first thing I change. The feeling of having your man-boobs stretch and get filled with dense muscles is one of the most euphoric feelings a man could feel. Oh, the joy of waking up knowing that you can grab and squeeze both jigglers.

Most of the time, I like to keep them hairy. For me, hair in your chest exudes brimming manly strength. I like to cop a feel for my pecs and feel the light bristles of my hair run between my fingers. It's kind of therapeutic when I do that. Whenever I show them to other people, they either get intimidated or infatuated. I like both, but the latter gets you several invitations to the bedroom. When I do get invited, I always make sure to have my pecs satisfied.

Although, there are times when I like the absence of hair. I assume it's a placebo, but I'm more sensitive when I lack hair. I moan immediately when someone's finger explores my pecs and nipples. How I'd squirm when they circled my areolas. Or how I'd get to my knees when their tongue prods my nipples.

To make the best of both worlds, I like to keep a tiny patch of hair just between the two breasts. Such big and magnificent pectoralis pairs pretty well with a manly bearded face.

It's always fun saying, "Hey, my eyes are up here," whenever someone stares at my rack. I love it more when I grab their hands and tell them that it's okay to squeeze them. The fluster on their faces is always a priceless thing to see.

So, yeah. I'm the pecs guy. I love it. I'm practically obsessed with it. I don't think I'll ever change, and that's a good thing.

---

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Rafael Alencar, 2006 photographed by Joe Oppedisano

Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

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Calling the plumber

One bad thing about Scott's and Cody’s relationship was that they both were almost stereotypically gay in a lot of senses. Both were thin an

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

Fantasy Agency

Michael was a controversial appointment as CEO.

He was a classic bro that had gone into finance and only cared about growing his wealth and gaining more status. The shareholders loved him but the employees less so. As soon as he became CEO, he organized a large shift and brought on his former fratbros to fill the board until it was filled with carbon copy types of him - wealthy, privileged, white men. It became an elite echelon and they tailored everything to suit their desire, including the unpopular move to close down the employee cafeteria on the 38th floor so that they could make room for their C-level private gym and let off some steam away from the rest of the employees.

Unknown to his bros though, Michael had developed some interesting tastes from his life of privilege. Really it's a textbook case, but when you are wealthy and handsome, people just love to do whatever you say. Workers and women alike yearned to please him, which he took for granted, but that led him to yearn for something else.

Secretly online, he grew bolder. Initially watching humiliation porn and advancing into findom but it all felt a little empty. He wanted more, and he was used to getting what he wanted. Always.

One evening, he got an message that called to him. It was a discreet agency that promised to fulfill fantasies in a way no other could. He got in touch and shared his wildest fantasies and jerked off to the conversation. Typing it all out got him so horny that he released to the thoughts in his mind, after which the desire for humiliation subsided and he went about his normal evening routine.

The following morning, he stirred and began to go about him morning routine. Stepping out of bed, he stood and noticed his surroundings being bigger. He dashed to the bathroom and saw his reflection.

Almost all of his hard-earned muscles had disappeared and he must have lost 30cm in height, but the most shocking part was how foreign he looked. Michael thought people like this were lazy and just chose to be poor, but now look at him!

Realizing what must have happened, he quickly reached for his phone and messaged the contact from last night, pleading for them to switch him back. The response came "But you like it, don't you? Look in the mirror again." And so he did and somehow, it started to turn him on. Another reponse came "Today, you're going to work, but you're going to be a janitor and clean up the mess of your bros while they look down on you. You best get ready. Your clothes are outside on the door step. Oh, and don't touch or use any of your former things. Touching anything - clothes, toiletries, soap - will bring you out in a painful rash. They don't belong to you anymore.

And so Michael shyly opened his door and found some clothes folded on the doorstep. They looked poor quality and too small for him, but he put them on and they fitted remarkably well, albeit a little scratchy. Then, Michael left for the office, taking the bus for the first time in his life. He got hard thinking about how he fitted in and no one suspected him as one of the wealthiest guys in the city.

He spent the day cleaning up the mess of his buddies. Somehow he couldn't quite understand them properly and when he spoke, it came out with a thick accent. One sentence he did understand was one of his bros, Fred, saying "Eurgh, what's he doing on this floor? Those people need to learn to wash!" as he cast a coffee cup aside. Fred looked him right in the eye and didn't recognize him one bit! For the first time, Michael realized just how hot Fred one. He was much taller than him now, built like a bodybuilder and in a perfectly tailored suit and cologne to die for. His arrogance and swagger topped it all off. But damn, he wasn't gay? But the thought of sucking off his bros like this was just so appealing!

With the working day finished, he went to the staff break room and saw himself again for the first time in hours. The hair that kept falling into his face was greasy and his clothes filthy. He lifted up an arm and smelt his pits which were fragrant to say the least.

The day had made him so horny that he ran to the bathroom to jerk off. He pulled out him small brown cock from the surrounding hedge of black hairs and jerked furiously, sniffing his pits and contemplating the whole siutation until he came. He came more furiously than expected and dirtied his tshirt even further. Somehow he liked that. And surely no one would notice...

He went to his locker and whipped out his phone. He messaged and said that he enjoyed his day and was ready to get back to normal from tomorrow. "Oh no, we're just beginning!" came the reply. "Now you're essentially an undocumented worker so you'd best to everything we say."

Over the next days he continued the routine and followed the instructions he had to if he wanted to avoid the authorities. Over time though, he found his former bros less attractive and somehow pale and bland. He started to long for something darker.

As these feelings set in, he was permitted to return to his former home to meet the person who had sent him on this journey. As he opened the door he saw what was for his eyes perfection. He knew that he would worship this man as his superior in every way and devote his life to his service. Despite appearances, the god-like figure in front of him was but a few short weeks ago was just a nerdy fantastist with a laptop and some magic. Now he had taken what was Michael's and made it his own.

And now that he was one of them like his master, he would help his master to take over the company for his own glory. But first, he would service his master.

I got a crush on this straight gym bro that reeks and after spending the afternoon talking with him about helping him with some stuff and indirectly smelling his rank odor Im feelling lightheaded... Please help me... bro

You had a boner during the whole workout. Your stylish green underpants are completely covered with precum on the inside. You apologise and say you have to take a shower. He says only wimps shower. He strikes a double bicep pose and groans animalistically after his hard and intense workout. Beads of sweat glisten in his beard and armpit hair. The smell that emanates from his armpits is almost hypnotic. You take a deep breath. You have to go back to your bro. You turn around. He is still standing there, exuding pheromones. He smiles.

Almost submissively, you approach him. You actually wanted to take a shower. You deserve his contempt. And on your knees you go, apologising.

You can taste the salt from his sweaty balls. Showers... only for wimps. Real men reek!

Oh come on that’s too easy! 😂 Ripping for sure.

Clothes ripping is an essential part of the TF! That’s like keeping an action figure in its box.

Plus the whole purpose of getting out of the clothes is to enjoy what’s underneath! I’m getting out of them by any means possible, and yes that includes ripping!

Plus I love a lot of sensory description in my writing—especially sounds. Clothes ripping is a super hot, super necessary part of the sensory experience of tf imo!

Some may have different opinions, but if it’s me? The clothes are ripping.

My sons birthday was coming up and I needed a good present. 

Little did he know our family has a well kept secret. On the day of our 18th birthdays we undergo a… how should I put this… metamorphosis. Not just any old transformation either. We become someone else, their doppelganger. That body is ours to have fun with as we please for the rest of our lives.  

It was a strange combination of an influx of hormones, HOX genes not present in many other creatures (great primates being the closest) and the condition affected around 1 in 1,000,000 men. My family had recently been reached out to with several offers from a company calling itself Muscle Corp and they intended to study my son after his transformation.

For context my great, great grandfather started a tradition of the fathers buying used articles of clothing or even stealing possessions from hunky men that we thought were suitable for our transformations, and now it’s my boy’s turn.

I spent the last 18 years scouring the internet, forums and neighbouring towns for hunky men that I could offer a premium price for a simple shirt or shoe.

Course I got turned down a number of times, straight up ignored by others until i found the one. A straight-laced bodybuilder was offering up a piece of used bondage gear to the hoards of sweaty, panting, horny men and women in an online bid-off.

I had to act fast, placing, matching and betting higher and higher. I was nearing the end of the budget I had set when it happened. My screen reloaded itself as the digital timer hit zero and… I got it! The shipping address was entered and it was to come in just before my sons big family get together/birthday party. Can’t just celebrate this huge a milestone without the family!

Uncles, cousins, nephews and even distantly related family men came in droves to watch my boy enter adulthood, their smiles as wide as their massive backs and asses. 

Men of every colour and size packed themselves into the tiny estate and I mingled with some of the fresh faces as previously scrawny boys became unrecognisable. Everyone seemed riled up today. Another tradition i forgot to mention is a huge “family” orgy with the newly transformed adult to welcome him into the brotherhood. Since none of us were technically blood related anymore, incest wasn’t a problem.

It was nearing crunch time. My boy was born midday so everyone piled into the backyard, some already sporting tighter pants and wet spots as we took positions. 

My son came out onto the porch, his young, small figure looking almost comical next to his massive daddy.

“Now son, it’s time for you to join the brotherhood. Are you ready?” I ask. He nods quickly, desperate to know what I got him.

I produce a box wrapped in dark blue paper. He rips it off in record time and pulls out the leather harness with metal pieces attached. The small crowd moans and some start to stroke themselves in their pants, clothes already coming off and tossed to the wayside.

he slips his arms and head through the holes, places himself against the wall and waits. Seconds go by as we all stand with bated breath until my sons eyes shoot open and his whole body goes rigid.

Cheers erupt as his form swells and fills the empty space to bursting, muscles straining against the metal and leather. Dark brown hair fades to blond at the ends and his jawline snaps into place. Lips plump and his brow comes forward giving him an effortlessly beautiful face on.y accentuated by the thick stubble that grows in soon after. His back arches, lats pushing out into huge wings and he shoots to an admirable 6 foot 3.

His pecs swell in size to become ample cleavage covered in thick fur as he reaches up to grip the leather in his now meaty palm. His arms follow suit, bulging shoulders lead to thick hairy forearms and meaty hands. His hips gyrate as thighs become thick hams and his feet grow to a monstrous size 13.

Finally, his normally invisible blond pubes darken as his small cock pulses and swells like it’s alive. Swelling and swelling until it hangs almost to his knees. Foreskin covering the plump head as veins snake their way around the cucumber shaft leading to two tennis ball testicles covered in a generous coating of blonde.

Seemingly finished, he opens his eyes to survey his new surroundings, off balance at first but righting himself.

He stares at me now at eye level. He leans in whispering with a thick Russian accent “Thanks for the harness daddy. Wanna take this inside?”

I grin, tearing off my own shirt to press my huge hairy body against his. “What else would we do? I’ve only been waiting 18 years!”

he laughs as we embrace, lips locked in hot heated passion.

The rest of the yard starts to do the same and I turn to face the crowd.

“So? Who wants to wish him happy birthday first?”

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