Jock - Blog Posts

this ending was unexpected but it sure wasn't disappointing haha.

Bonus scene:

There You go with something special for Valentine 😊❤

I make this little comics after I saw a scene from "How I met your mother" and I think that fit pretty well them Ahahah😂❤

I'm happy for the result and I hope You like It too! ❤

Happy Valentine everyone! ❤😍❤😍

Thank you to everyone who got me to 50 likes!

The Trump Trail

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

--- TW: Liberal to conservative / MAGA ---

--- Reminder: this is homo-erotic fiction ---

These two best bud just started going down the Trump Trail recently.

Raised by silent majority types, they never even really thought of politics most of their lives.

Their parents wanted to give them a childhood, something liberals usually don’t – except for that fact that liberals are still children, basically, their entire lives, haha.

Then there was an incident at school, a call-out incident of sorts, a leftist attempt to severely hurt an innocent child just because of who his parents might be and the body he didn’t choose.

To deal with this radicalisation, John’s parents thought he was old enough to discuss sociopolitics, and so did Mike’s… everyone in their neighborhood was talking about what had happened.

Just wanting to help make the world better, they decided to start supporting Trump’s reelection campaign, all so that American values can be affirmed again and the world can get back to some sort of balance.

Being football guys, they’d started working out, and meshing that with the Trump gear and the thought of crushing liberals on the football field all had been boiling over into one heck of an exciting time.

They’re already looking this good and put this much muscle on, so can you imagine how they’re going to look, how they’re going to act, how they’re going to fuck… two years from now, or four years down the road?

They’re just getting started, bro.

Nothing motivates you to perfect your body, lifestyle, and personality like putting leftists in their place.

If that’s not true, why do the facts of our world seem to say otherwise?

If leftists are so smart and hard-working, why are they on the bottom? Why do they commit most of the crimes, and why are their lives such disasters?

Why are they all waiting around for daddy to give them money? Why don’t they do charity?

Why are leftists so jealous of all the good looks and good fortune of the rightists, so jealous that they’re trying to tax it, so jealous that it makes them almost suicidal, that is when they’re not getting homicidal?

Riddle me that, bro.

Here’s the answer: because we are better than them.

--- Originally posted on 2023-06-15 by shapedbydesire ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

A Better Ride

(inspired by a caption by the Abstract Vanity, this story includes muscle growth, gay to straight, wish gone wrong, reality change, musk & farts; as a notice, I’m aware some people are still having an issue with being able to see a Better Brother on their dash, so I’ll get to work on posting an updated version with cleaner pictures soon! thanks for your patience with me as always)

Neil, a skinny and fair haired twink, is inspecting the car his parents have given him for his twentieth birthday. He frowns slightly at the clunker as his best friend and only other gay guy in their small town, Kody, sits excitedly in the driver’s seat and tries to make light of the situation. “It’s really not all that bad, Neil! A car is a car, try to look a little more grateful.” Kody was always warm and kind, ever the optimist. In any situation, he could find the bright side of it.

But Neil just feels disappointed, envious and greedy. This thing looks like it barely has twenty more miles in it! He grumbles below his breath, “I wish I had a better ride,” thinking about all the popular guys at their college campus driving around in their fancy trust fund cars. As he imagines the straight jocks, he can feel his cock twitch a bit, coming to life in his tiny shorts. He knows the guys are immature and backwards minded and more muscle than intelligence, but he has always been attracted to the stereotypical frat bro douche that would never feel the same way about a lanky, effeminate nerd like him.

Not long after he speaks the wish, however, Neil watches as the driver’s side door slams closed on the clunker. Kody looks surprised in the driver’s seat with the window rolled up, his lips are moving but Neil can’t hear the question being asked. Catching them both off guard, Neil can only watch on in confusion and fear as green mist begins to appear around Kody, first thin tendrils of smoke and then suddenly, the coughing form of his equally skinny, pale haired twink of a friend is consumed in the cloud of green fumes. Before Neil can process this, he hears the crunch of metal, unable to do anything as he stares and watches the cheap old car morph into a larger, more modern truck on massive wheels, with a blaring bass system and lots of fancy gadgets modded onto the vehicle. It reminds him of the same rides his crushes would drive around in, revving up their engines and trying to impress all the chicks they could find.

Once the car finishes changing, granting Neil’s wish and making him smile, he rushes to the car door to make sure that Kody is inside and safe. He’ll be so excited when he sees what he’s sitting inside of now! But as he opens the door, all Neil can do is gag as his eyes begin to water immediately, the fumes of green gas pouring over him and reeking of rotten eggs, protein, and the stale dank scent of a men’s locker room. As the fog disperses, the man left sitting in the driver’s seat is not Kody, but instead a much more brutish and swollen version of him, cute hair cropped short and his now square, stubbles face leering down at Neil. He grips the steering wheel, and it makes his bicep look even more swole.

He flexes to show the little nerd what sets them apart. In this situation, and all others, the new and improved Kolton is in control. “Okay, fag. I know it’s your birthday so I’m gonna raw dog your ass just this once, but we gotta be quick. And don’t be fucking clingy and try to reach out to me after this. This is a one time thing, your boy cunt is an appetizer but pussy is the only meal I’m interested in.” Neil could barely process the vanishing of his bestie, too occupied with the tenting of his tiny cock. The man in front of him looks like he’s stepped out of a wet dream, or more accurately, a wish. Clearly this truck belonged to Kolton, and not himself, and surely some essence of Kody must have still been inside under all that muscle and rank stench.

But it is Neil’s birthday… he runs around to the passenger side, allowing himself inside and getting straight to work by taking Kolton’s cock into his mouth. He enjoys the rough, calloused hand pressing his nose into the wiry bush of hairs, the thick length making him gag like the smell had, he moans and whimpers and he is in heaven. Fuck having a car, this was the best gift he could ask for.

Kolton just sits there and closes his eyes, imagining breasts bouncing and pussies dripping as the twink works his magic on his fat dick. It was nice of him to make the fag’s wish come true today, but he’d be shoving his tongue into some pussy as quickly as he can find it after this. He’ll leave this twink in the dust and never look back.

Poor Kody, though… looks like he’ll be a passenger for the rest of his life. A twink trapped in the body of a hulking, reeking, walking stereotype. The picture perfect image of a straight frat bro.

Kolton’s got the wheel now.

The Witch's Transformation: (part 2)

Mark, a muscular college wrestler, pulls a prank on Alex by sending him to an abandoned house, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman who turns out to be an evil witch. Angered by his intrusion, the witch curses Mark, stripping him of his strength and transforming his body into that of a smaller, weaker version of himself. As his muscles vanish and his appearance changes, he finds himself in a tight-fitting speedo, with his body altered in unexpected ways. Ultimately, Mark is left bewildered and vulnerable, facing the consequences of his prank.

Mark, the college jock, had just played a prank on Alex, the introvert. He tricked Alex into going to an old, abandoned house.

To Mark's surprise, a beautiful woman emerged from the house instead of Alex. Perplexed, Mark decided to enter the house in search of Alex.

Inside the house, Mark found the beautiful woman again. He tried to flirt with her, not knowing what was about to happen next.

The beautiful woman revealed herself to be an evil witch. She was furious at Mark for trespassing into her domain and decided to punish him.

The witch decided to cast a spell on Mark. He felt weak as his muscles began to shrink, and his face became boyish and clean-shaven.

His clothes fell to the ground, no longer fitting his now slim frame. The witch handed him a small speedo which he wore, confused and fearful.

The witch snapped her fingers once more, putting the finishing touches on her spell. Mark's body started to change again.

Mark's butt began to grow, becoming huge and tight in the speedo. He had become small and weak, a stark contrast to the jock he once was.

The witch laughed at Mark's new appearance, satisfied with her revenge. Mark, on the other hand, was horrified and confused by his new reality.

Mark was left to grapple with his new identity, a punishment for his arrogance. He learned a cruel lesson that day about respecting others' spaces.

The Witch's Transformation (part 1)

Happy Friday the 13th

Alex, an out-of-shape nerd, receives an unexpected invitation to a party that leads him to the lair of an evil witch. After pleading for mercy, he undergoes a shocking transformation that turns him into a muscular and handsome giant, ready to serve her every whim. With his new physique and confidence, Alex embraces his role.

Alex was often alone in the small town he lived in, spending most of his time studying and playing video games.

Despite his usual routine, Alex was excited when he received an invitation to a party. He was eager to socialize and make friends.

Upon reaching the address, Alex found himself standing in front of an old, creepy house. He was confused but decided to check inside.

Inside, he was met with an old woman, who was the only person in the house. To his surprise, the woman was a witch and she was not happy with his intrusion. Ripping his clothes off.

Alex begged for his life. The witch, however, had an idea. She decided to transform Alex, as a punishment and also to serve her needs.

The witch cast a spell and Alex's body started to grow. His muscles bulged, and he grew taller. He had transformed into a huge, muscular man.

Alex was surprised but also happy with his new size. He felt powerful and was sill growing strong to serve the witch.

The witch handed Alex a tight Speedo to wear, his new uniform. It showed off his new physique well. He was now the witch's servant.

The witch used her magic to make herself young and beautiful. She was now a stunning woman that would have her way with Alex.

Alex was happy to serve. He lived with the witch, serving her and living a life he never thought he would.

Booty Text

--- Originally posted on 2019-03-11 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Text Message Sent 10:36 PM

David: Hey! Sorry to text you so late, but thanks for the present!

Matt: No probs bro. It’s for helping me study math

David: Well, if you ever need help in the future I’ll be there

Matt: ya can help me rite now by trying it on and send pics

David: ?

Matt: trust me bro, I got you the best cologne out there, and the socks have scented soles

David: uh ok?

Text Message Sent 10:39 PM

David: the socks are definitely to big, but they look nice

Matt: they’re the perfect size, you’ll see, how bout cologne?

David: dude, you didn’t tell me how powerful it was

Matt: but ya love it rite bro?

David: yeah but it’s a little hard to concentrate

Matt: spray som more and smell, it helps

David: ok, one sec

Text Message Sent 10:41 PM

David: woah dude, u were right

Matt: ikr bro, u always should listen to me

David: I think I’m seein things, my body’s looking big

Matt: it’s not lookin big bro, I bet it’s swole

David: yeah, swole, ur right

Matt: yup bro, smell the socks and txt back

Text Message Sent 10:44 PM

David: bro, I’ve been smelling the air and socks and I think I’m losing it

Matt: wdym

David: my whole bodies expanded, it looks I went through puberty again

Matt: what?

David: I took of all my clothes except my compression shorts and like my body’s all buff now and my hands look like mitts and bro my abs are poppin

Matt: what else?

David: I got these huge pecs and super defined calves, I also have hair sprouting out everywhere

Matt: is that all?

David: almost, it seems like my feet have expanded too, once I’m done smelling all out my socks back on and see

Matt: listen to me david, just like usual

David: of course

Matt: spray more cologne and keep smelling the socks, check back in bro

David: sure thing bro

Text Message Sent 10:49 PM

David: hey bro

Matt: how you feelin?

David: foggier than before, and other things have changed

Matt: like?

David: my hair and head get longer and now I got this sick beard and my Adam’s apple grew so big and now I got this deep voice

Matt: and?

David: bro, I have hair and huge musk everywhere like my abs and legs are super hairy and my pits are forests that are so RANK I can barely smell the cologne don’t me get started on the pubes

Matt: what about the pubes?

David: the more I smell my pits with the cologne, the hairier my crotch gets, and my dick and balls are both expanding

Matt: how much?

David: bro, my pouch is huge

Matt: nice

David: oh my butt just got bigger too it’s like 2 bubbles

Matt: perfect

David: you gay or something bro?

Matt: you’ll soon be

David: ?

Matt: just keep sniffing bro, especially the socks, check back in once ur redy

David: bro I think ur crazy?

Matt: everything I say is right, isn’t it David?

David: oh, uh yeah

Matt: then just sniff

David: ok bro

Text Message Sent 10:55 PM

David: bro

Matt: yeah?

David: I just remembered how hot it was

Matt: you blasted that jock cock to the thought of ur self, didn’t you?

David: yeah, cum all over the walls

Matt: well, that big dick does blast testosterone, how long is it again?

David: bro, how did you forget it’s 8 inches

Matt: I don’t know, can I ask ya something

David: always bro, and if you wanna bang it’s always yes

Matt: yeah, but different question, are you missing anything?

David: one sec bro...

David: nah, im missing nothing when im with my bro

Matt: that’s correct! babe send me a pic of ur self I wanna see what my present looks like

David: of course bro

David: now u know why I nutted

Matt: of course ya meathead

David: the cologne smells great and the socks fit perfectly, howd you know?

Matt: ive been to town on those feet, they’re my best bros, so when I found a pair of size 14 socks I knew they were a steal

David: well thx again

Matt: of course bro

David: so you coming over to beat my meathead?

Matt: yeah of course, i wanna eat those cheeks too, i like you as my booty call

David: wouldn’t this be a booty text?

Matt: wow, I thot I was the smarter one

David: yeah you are, I haven’t passed remedial math for two year now

Matt: I was just joking dummy, I gotta call mark and then I’ll be there

David: oh and after we swallow loads help me with math, I hate that crap bro

Matt: of course bro of course

This Is The Future That Liberals Want

Boxered Into a Promotion

(Hi Bros, Im sorry about the delay. The 1k special is still in the works but here’s a great story I’ve been working on with my friend @rozza22365. Honestly couldn’t have finished it without him. If you haven’t checked out his stories make sure you do, as they are one of the hottest tf stories on tumblr)

Tim had just started his new internship as a business analyst at Box Menswear. He wasn’t the happiest to be interning at a gym wear company but it was the only internship offer he got this summer, and he knew he needed some experience before finishing school and entering the workforce.

The first few weeks at the internship consisted of getting to know everyone and all the departments. Tim felt out of place. While everyone was smart they did consist of this frat bro type of guys and the only girls were the ones that worked in the marketing department. One day while Tim was working in his cubicle, Jessica the marketing head came up to him.

“Hi, Tim! It’s Jessica from Marketing.” Jessica said in an upbeat fashion typical of the marketing girls

“Oh hi Jessica, what brings you to this side of the office”

“Well! We just got news from the exec team that we will be opening a new store in Miami and we decided to invite one of our interns to the grand opening. We drew names and boom you were the lucky one!”

“Oh um… thank you Jessica, but I don’t know, I really don’t have the money”

“Oh don’t worry about that Tim! The trip is all paid for by the company. We see a lot of potential in you and would love for you to come. Of course, you would be accompanied by me as your guide and you’ll see how we launch our store. We fly out of JFK on Friday at 8 am. See you then!"

Tim wasn’t able to get a word out before Jessica walked away back to the marketing floor. Tim realized that he didn’t want to make a bad impression with the company so he decided he would suck it up and go on the trip.

Friday came around and Tim got to the airport. The company ordered him a complimentary taxi to the airport. As he got out and saw Jessica standing in the private wing of the airport talking on the phone. As she spots Tim she quickly hangs up and waves at him to come over.

“Wow, Jessica I’ve never been to this part of JFK,”

“Haha! Most people haven’t, this is where company jets tend to fly out so we don’t have to worry about other people,”

After waiting a bit for the plane to fuel up and load Tim and Jessica's luggage, they head out to the boarding area. The inside of the plane was small but lavish, having white leather chairs and black tables.

Tim’s eyes widen at the luxury of the interior. Jessica noticed and just smiled as they got settled in for the journey.

As they finally got in the air the stewardess walked up to the two and asked if they wanted a drink. As she brought back the two drinks she first gave the drink to Jessica then reached back to her cart and was about to hand Tim his drink.

“So Tim, just before you settle down, I need you to do something,” asked Jessica.

“Yeah,” Tim replied. Jessica pulled out a small box with some neatly folded black briefs.

“Not only are we opening a new store but we will be announcing some new male underwear, and journalists can get quite chatty, even with something as minor as this. I need you to try them on, tell me everything you think about it, preferably the good aspects,” she said.

“Sure, I can do that,” Tim replied again, hastily grabbing the box. The only place with any privacy was the toilet.

Tim made his way to the back of the jet and entered the toilet. The interior was similar to the rest of the plane but with wooden accents. As he walked inside he didn’t notice the bathroom automatically locked behind him. He began undressing, starting with his shoes, then trousers and finally his underwear. He pulled the black briefs up his legs taking in anything unique to them. He stretched them out to see how easy to wear and resilient they were, before letting go and letting them slap against his waist. As far as he could tell they were pretty standard briefs, but he needed to come up with something, so stood there pondering on anything he could think up.

“SUBJECT HAS ENTERED…. PROCEEDING TO SCAN BODY” Tim was freaked out by the voice as a red light started to scan the room beginning from top to light. “SUBJECT FOUND IN COMPANY DATABASE…. Tim Crawford…. Age 23… student intern in business analytics department… ” Tim was starting to panic now as a robotic arm came down from the ceiling,

“SUBJECT TIM IS IN POSSESSION OF DNA BRIEFS… scanning briefs for DNA package… package found…analyzing…” The voice continued, ignoring Tims's pleas as it scanned a secret barcode on the briefs. Tim was about to cry and ask about what was happening, but the robotic voice cared little for his suffering. “DNA PACKAGE DANIEL THOMPSON… activate package and begin conversion…”

As Tim continues to hear the robotic voice speak he tries to open the door but to no avail. “THE DOOR HAS BEEN LOCKED FOR YOUR SAFETY…. PLEASE BACK AWAY” ordered the voice. But he continued anyway, even screaming for help for someone to get him. Of course, Jessica was hearing every part but she wasn't going to help.

The voice continued to repeat to Tim to step away from the door… until it stopped, but only for a second. “ SUBJECT IS UNRESPONSIVE TO COMMANDS…. RESTRAINTS INITIATED”. Out of nowhere tentacle-like robotic arms came out from the walls and wrapped themselves around Tim, hoisting him up in the air. “Ahhhh stop this!!! HELP!” Tim continues screaming but with no response from the outside.

“OUTER GARMENT REMOVAL INITIATED” additional arms with claw attachments of the end come out of the walls ripping off Tim's suit and leaving him almost naked in the middle of the restroom, only the black briefs remained and they felt tight. Tim's typical nerdy build was exposed. Skinny and pale with some acne throughout his body. His cock was just below average and wasn’t really proud of it.

“STAGE 1: SKIN PIGMENT…..currently 0%…. Updating to 60%…” as the voice finishes Tim notices Panels on the wall start to turn around revealing long fluorescent light bulbs similar to those in tanning beds. As they all turn on he feels a sharp burning pain on his skin, causing him to scream. In the background of his screaming, he hears the faint robotic voice counting up from 0%…. 1%…. 5%…..13%. This continues for a few more minutes as Tim continues to scream in pain until the voice reaches 60%. The lights then shut down and turn back into the wall. In the corner of Tim’s eye, Tim notices the paleness from his skin had been burnt out, leaving a rosier and healthier colour in its place.

STAGE 2: BODY ODOR AND HAIR… THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS MINIMAL BODY HAIR AND ODOR… CHANGE COMMENCING” As the robotic voice finished, two new arms appeared but this time with what seemed like two aerosol canisters attached to the end. Before Tim could even react, the cans unleashed perfume all over his body. Tim coughing through the spray made out a few words “wait this smells familiar…” and then it clicked this was the same scent box menswear produced for their body spray “Alpha” it smelled like a mixture of a locker room musk and a cheap men’s fragrance. He always hated how the models would be wearing it during the product photo shoots. As the arms continued to spray his body, Tim didn’t notice that the genetic structures of his sweat glands were being forcibly changed as the chemicals from the gas started to penetrate and merge. No matter how much he showered or cleaned, the perfume fragrance would be a permanent aura around him. As the procedure came to an end, Tim could still smell the scent of Alpha lingering on his skin.

Out of nowhere, two more arms appeared with a stick of deodorant that looked the same. It moved quickly and applied the body odour to his armpits. As the slimy texture from the deodorant finished seeping into his skin and a tickling feeling arose in his pits as dark black hairs started to protrude out, blotting out any blonde hairs he had. As he looked down still restrained from the tentacles he noticed the large bushes on either side of his underarms, additionally, he got a whiff of the alpha scent coming from them even stronger than before. Deep down he knew even with his arms down the hairs would stick out of his sides.

STAGE 3: MUSCLES MASS…. THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS 10% MUSCLE MASS….. INCREASING DENSITY BY 98%......

“Please help! Stop this…” Tim pleaded. As he finished screaming for help, more arms and tubes came out of the wall. The first one latched onto Tims's mouth, before extending a tube down his mouth and into his stomach. Tim could barely make a noise as the muscles in and around his mouth had been subdued. The other arms contained syringes full of some liquid. They positioned themselves around Tim’s body, at strategic points before launching simultaneously and injecting him. Tim would scream if he could but all he could do was gurgle endlessly. Two more arms came out but this time two suction cups were attached at the end of them. Tim looked at them and thought about what they could possibly be doing until they launched towards his pecs. The two suction cups locked onto Tim's nipples as they settled onto them, stinging them slightly. Tim heard a noise from one of the walls as a whitish-brown liquid started to come down the feeding tube. Tim continued to try to scream and squirmish to take out the tube. Some disgusting liquidated food poured down the tube endlessly. Tim squirmed as he saw it pass sight and go straight down into his stomach where it finished. Then the syringes effortlessly squeezed the liquids in them into his body forcing it to absorb the chemicals. Finally, the two suction cups vibrated as they sucked away at his nipples, causing Tim to moan pleasurably.

As the chemicals settled in his body, the food continuously fed into him and the cup vibrated, Tim's body began to grow unnaturally. Firstly came his biceps which inflate into footballs, followed by his legs growing so much that they were able to crush a watermelon between them with ease. Of course, with his legs growing his feet expanded from a small size 7 to a hefty size 13. Tim continued to try and yell, but the tube continued to chug, feeding his expanding body. The muscles continued to move throughout his body as 8 slabs popped out of his abdomen, a perfected set of washboard abs. Tim moaned as the vibrating cups became more intense, almost as they pulled out his pecs outwards building two huge shelves that will certainly stretch out any shirt he wears from now on. His nipples became so hard and pointy, that no shirt would conceal them.

“MUSCLE GROWTH FINALIZED……” The machine said as all the tubes and needles reverted back into the wall leaving Tim there hanging from the original four arms.

“Pl…please… I don't know how much I can take…. Stop” Tim said pleading

“PHYSICAL CHANGES AT 85%... Proceed with IMPLANTATION OF DANIELS MENTAL STATE… 3…2…1…”

The mirror in front of Tim then changed to a screen. A spiral popped up and Tim’s eyes were forced to stare into the abyss as the spirals got deeper and deeper. Tim’s mind was becoming dull, his thinking slowed down and he could barely piece together simple thoughts. All he knew was the spiral in front of him. As it went on he swore he could see images and small scenes flying out of the screen, but this was just part of the illusion. Foreign thoughts now began invading his mind. His new body was just his body, it needed to be maintained through dieting and working out. He worked at Box menswear but not as an intern, he was a spokesperson. His name wasn’t Tim anymore, It was Daniel Thompson but everyone called him Danny.

“IMPLANTING DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE… at 10%... 50%... BEGIN FACIAL GROOMING PROCEDURES” the voice screeched again. Tim was absorbed into the spirals, his mind emptying itself of its memories as Danny’s memories were planted in their place, slowly taking over.

Arms yet again appeared from the walls, this time they were there to fix up Tim’s ungroomed hair. One of the arms had another unnamed canister full of perfume. This canister sprayed a musky perfume across his face, Tim was still unphased by this or the itching that followed as a great chinstrap snapped its way across his face making him look more manly, while his blonde eyebrows grew thicker in size and turned dark brown. Another arm possessed a trimmer and while another complimented it with a pair of scissors. These two got to work shortening his hair down, fading the sides into the top while cutting the top down into a short wavy style. It was then finished off with a spray and the blonde hair turned dark brown as well.

GROOMING 100% COMPLETE… IMPLANTATION OF DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE AT… 85%

Daniel knew these thoughts were wrong and held on, trying to fight them. But his mind was so dull and inactive, that he couldn’t do much but let them in unfiltered. Surprisingly though, the thoughts weren’t taking hold at first. They were melting into his defenceless brain, but Tim felt unphased by any of them.

“DANIELS MENTAL CAPABILITIES AND STATE 100% IMPLANTED… MOVING ON…” Daniel sighed relief as the spirals vanished in front of him and his mind came too. He began wondering and panicking about what to do and how to get out of here.

“SUBJECT SHOWS INADEQUATE REPRODUCTIVE SIZE……. PROCEEDING TO INCREASE” Soon a new arm came out of the wall this time with some sort of tube connected at the end of it….. It almost looked like those pocket pussys….. The boxers came down and the chub of his dick was left exposed. The tube then launched out sucking up his flaccid penis. “AH, WHAT THE FUCK” Daniel yelled. The machine started to suck on his cock “uhhhh wa..wait …UHHH stop” Tim could barely get words as the machine continued to suck on his dick. What he couldn't see happening was the more the machine sucked the more his cock would grow.

“SUBJECT IS REACHING COMPANY STANDARD SIZE……. 10 INCHES FOR BOX MODELS,” The machine said as Daniel continued to moan.

“SUBJECT WILL REQUIRE FURTHER MENTAL STIMULATION… subject Tim is registered as homosexual… Daniel is required as heterosexual…” The voice went on. ‘That can’t be right, who’s Tim? I’m definitely Daniel and I’m 100% Gay?’ Daniel thought as he began to realise what was happening to him, the mental effects were lurking inside him, simply waiting to be activated. He couldn’t remember anything from before but he needed to resist whatever came next.

The mirror changed again, this time, however, there was no spiral. Instead scenes of hot models with thin bodies, their tits becoming exposed and the models playing with them. Daniel resisted as well as he could, but his dick was being forced to erect itself as the machine vibrated with intensity. Eventually, a guy joins the models and starts fucking them in all kinds of positions. Daniel tries to focus on him, keeping himself attracted to the man, but instead, he finds his mind wandering to the lures of fucking and breeding chicks, being an absolute womanizer and showing off his body to get them.

Daniel resists as much as he can, but he’s barely aware that his dick is now at full mast and leaking pre-cum. However, to his relief, as the first drop is released, the machine vanishes back into the wall.

“DNA CONVERSION COMPLETE… RELEASING SUBJECT…” The voice said before all the arms restraining vanished as if they had never been there. Daniel pulled up his pants, imprisoning his jackhammer, his pride. He still had no clothes but he needed to find out what was happening. He opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

“WOW… The machine worked wonders on you…” wafted Jessica’s voice, squeezing out a high level of arrogance. Daniel turned to see her lying, stretched out on the luxury sofa. She was now wearing something far more skimpy. Daniel approached, hoping to get answers, but as he did his crotch began stirring. He rushed his hands over to rectify the issue but his eyes were thoroughly fixated on Jessica.

“OH don’t worry about that, come over Danny boy, Let me take care of it for you,” she said seductively. Daniel wanted to respond with a retort or a question. However, he found his body rushing with arrogance and cockiness, something wasn’t right.

“Oh, you can definitely take care of it, Jess,” he cooed back to her. His hands pulled down the boxers and let his crotch flop out. All fear, anger or questioning he had vanished, now replaced with arrogance and horniness. The memories that had been implanted in his mind were coming to fruition. He was Danny, he was a spokesperson for the company, he loved to, and needed to work out daily to make sure he kept in shape for his job.

“Looks like everything's coming too,” She said as Danny overshadowed her. The implanted memories were forming the full picture. The heterosexual desires implanted had full reigns over him, focusing him on the chick right in front of him. His dick was raging, eager to fuck and so was Danny now.

“The fuck you on about? Let’s just get down to it,” he demanded, as he jumped down next to her.

Jessica was about to reply but Danny went in for the kill. He took her lips and made out with her, pushing her back down to the side as he rearranged them both, positioning himself on top. Danny took no time in preparation, to him he had fucked 1000s of chicks before and this was no exception. His dick found its way to her hole, and Danny fucked her hard, taking his time to savour the pleasure, all while making out with her. Danny was so horny and he felt good to release and give in to his new pleasure, but he could feel the pleasure building up and slowly sliding its way down to his tip.

“Oh fuck… here it comes!!” he moaned as his tip exploded with his massive load. His seed being sent deep inside her.

“Fuck that was good,” she said.

“Approaching landing zone soon, finish up and get ready for landing in twenty minutes,” came the pilot via the speaker.

“You need to get ready, Danny. Go get some clothes and snap a pic or two for social media," said Jessica.

Danny got up to get his boxer briefs and then went to get some clothes. His mind had settled. He was Danny, the new spokesperson for BOX MENSWEAR. As he put on a white t-shirt and some gym shorts he caught himself in the mirror and couldn’t resist a chance to show off to the fans.

What the Athletic Department Needs

Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested

Tony Reardon anxiously paced back and forth inside of the coach’s office. It was strangely large and well-decorated, looking similar to something he expected from a therapist. One large loveseat, a coffee table, and a chair with an extra wide cushion were the only items in the room. There were also multiple pictures of championship victories, a few caps and balls hanging as mementos, an array of cabinets, and large windows overlooking the university. He wished literally anyone was here with him. His girlfriend, his advisor, even his mother! But he was completely alone, unprepared to face what he assumed was going to be the coach’s wrath.

As a lead writer for the university’s newspaper, Tony should’ve known better than to expose the article. He’d been in the business for almost four years now through high school and into college, so he could admit it was rather idiotic of him to let his segment leak. He had written an editorial about the recent declines in the university’s academic departments and its odd correlations with the climbing numbers in athletic enrollment. Somehow, while the average grades had been plummeting, the football, soccer, basketball, baseball, and hockey records had been exploding, with a new star player added to each team every week. Not only that, but the swimming team had expanded for the first time in 20 years, and there were now four golf teams instead of two. Somehow, all these events had to be connected with the academic slump, and that’s what Tony’s article was going to explore.

For the next month’s publication, he began researching the link between the fall of academia and the rise of physical activities. The chase had led him through a plethora of unexplained student disappearances, skyrocketing mid-semester registrations, and a barely-quantifiable amount of seemingly illegal activity. The most prominent example had been the creation of some cologne called “Heir,” a seemingly simple concoction invented by the new Assistant Football Coach Mark Richardson. Ever since the beginning of the rises and declines, there had been a huge amount of the chemical shipped to the university almost every day. Tony knew that this cologne had to be the answer he was looking for, but before he had a chance to investigate further, his article had been exposed to the faculty, including the head of the Athletic Department: Coach Sorenson.

And this was why Tony was cowering slightly as he waited for the coach to enter. What would he do to Tony, or with Tony? He had definitely gotten himself in way too deep, but there was no way he could escape now. Tony took a long breath and tried desperately to cool himself down. There was no way the coach would be able to harm him in any way. Tony was only a sophomore, not even 20. He was going to be fine, and he just had to keep telling himself that. He just had to get through this and then he’d be on his way.

Suddenly, the door from behind him opened. Tony quickly stood at full attention, almost as rigid as a soldier.

“Stand down,” Coach Sorenson chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”

Tony followed his instructions, nervously twitching as sat down on the white couch across from the coach’s massive chair. His eyes quivered as the giant of a man strolled past him. Tony assumed the coach had to be almost 6’5 (at least a foot taller than him) and even though he looked to be in his forties, he had to be in better shape than any other man above 25. Bulging biceps and triceps, juicy quads, and thick calves were all exposed as they strained the light blue compression shirt and tight, white mesh shorts. Not only that, but the two massive white Nike sneakers did nothing to hide the giant feet as they stomped their way around the other side of the table. Tony also unhappily noticed a massive cock swinging back and forth between the coach’s legs like a pendulum trying to break out.

As the coach sat down, Tony looked over his own body in dread. He’d dressed a little more professional for the situation as he was talking with the head of the Athletic Department. His plaid button-up was fairly flat, showcasing his lack of anything in his torso region. His khakis gave a similar performance as they loosely held onto his legs. His briefs hid any existence of his dick, which was currently sitting at about 3 inches soft. Barely tapping his small shoes quickly against the tile floor, Tony sunk a little further into the loveseat. His butt barely covered half a cushion as he brought his legs together, hoping to stop the shaking.

“To get right to business,” Coach Sorenson’s deep, melodic voice began. “We both know why you’re here in my office.”

“I’m so sorry!” Tony exclaimed, his tenor voice sounding wimpy and childish. “I had no intention of harming the Athletic Department’s reputation in any way at all. I swear, the article is just an editorial–opinions, not fact.”

“I understand.” Coach Sorenson leaned back into his chair and crossed his meaty arms. He pushed his legs out until they were far apart, the man-spreading showcasing who was in charge in the room. He seemed to be dwelling over a thought in his head.

“I promise, it will never be published if that is what you’d like.” Tony gulped at his own proposal, upset at what he was sacrificing.

“No, no,” Coach Sorenson started. “The article can still be salvaged.”

“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.

“Well of course,” Coach Sorenson chuckled again, only this time it was a little more menacing. “But if you want to get this thing published, you’ll want both sides of the story.”

Tony pondered the idea for a moment. “What does that entail?”

“I know you’re a smart boy, Tony.” The emphasis on “boy” made it seem more like an insult. “I’ve seen your transcripts. Quite impressive really.”

“Thank you?” Tony was lost, not finding the point.

“You should know that the greatest editorials present sources from both sides. If you want to publish this article, you’re going to have someone in the Athletic Department. I would be willing to fill that responsibility.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment; Coach Sorenson waiting for Tony to take the bait.

“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Are there certain questions you’d like me to ask?”

“Well, first, I have a strange request for you.” The coach’s tone suddenly shifted from authoritative to friendly. “My son made a comment the other day about my body odor, and I’ve been quite self-conscious about it since.”

“I can’t smell anything,” Tony replied honestly, hoping to move forward quickly.

“I just want to make sure.” Coach Sorenson pushed his muscular body out of the chair, the giant frame once again showcasing its massive form as it ascended upwards. The coach then made his way over to the loveseat, taking a seat right next to the very uncomfortable Tony. Compared to the coach, the sophomore now looked even smaller than before.

“Can you smell me when I’m sitting right next to you?”

Tony, now even more intimidated then he had been the entire time, took a theatrical sniff before sputtering out a meek, “N-n-no.”

“Alright,” Coach Sorenson shifted over, getting close enough that his gigantic arms and legs were rubbing up against the beanstalks Tony called limbs. “How about now?”

“S-s-still n-nothing!” Tony squeaked. The coach smirked and casually raised his arms behind his head, stretching out his compression shirt and allowing tufts of wet armpit hair to spill out. Now Tony began to smell something pungent, repulsive, and… addicting. His eyes began to water from the stench as he gradually lost focus.

“Really?” Coach Sorenson insisted, slowly leaning one of his pits into Tony’s face. “Are you sure I don’t smell?”

With logic disappearing quickly, Tony decided this had to be a test. All he had to do was show his obedience to the coach and he would get to publish the article. Without a doubt in his idea, he confidently moved his nose right into a damp forest, the stench almost hitting him immediately. Although he now knew his answer, Tony didn’t stop sniffing. For some reason, he kept going. He had had three words to describe the flavor of the coach’s body odor before, but now the only one that came to mind was-

“Addicting, isn’t it?” The coach cooed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pushing his head in further. “Mark really made sure to make his cologne captivating, that way you’d have no chance of escaping.”

Tony should’ve been panicking; he should’ve been screaming and trying to escape. But he couldn’t, and not because he was being physically held down. He could slip out in seconds if he wanted too, but that was the problem: he didn’t want too.

“After I discovered your little essay, I had to assure your disappearance would be quick and much more hidden than the other students.”

Tony was too captivated in the tangles of pit hair to hear or understand what was going on.

“Although Heir probably would’ve worked, I decided it would be best to be extra cautious. Mark had informed me a few weeks ago that he had made a new detergent for his uncle, the CEO of TenHaken Industries. Apparently it was a success, as its main purpose was to give the employees a few extra decades.”

Tony, who was still feverishly sniffing, began to feel pulsing tingles race across his limbs. He twitched violently but continued to dedicate his attention to the pits at hand.

“So, in hopes that Tony Reardon would vanish from the university while also becoming an advocate for the Athletic Department,” Coach Sorenson smirked proudly. “I decided to mix Heir with Maturitatem, the aging scent that Mark made for his uncle.”

The coach pulled a small, empty cologne bottle out of his pocket. It had two labels on it: one that had been originally attached and one that had been taped on. Tony wasn’t able to see either, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was smell the coach’s greasy jungles of pit hair.

Lost in bliss, Tony didn’t notice how the tingling from before had now spread to every part of his body. With every passing second, it seemed to be expanding, pushing outwards as if it was begging for release. In its attempts to escape, the energy pulled at Tony’s mass like taffy, stretching out his limbs and torso as they were pulled further apart. Satisfied with how the process had begun, Coach Sorenson had to readjust his arm to make sure the larger Tony could fit under it. Once the stretching had stopped, the lanky boy now stood at 6’4, just under the coach. He now had to crouch a little with his feet planted firmly on the floor so he could keep inhaling the intoxicating scent.

Now that he was of proper height, the tingling began to focus on certain areas of improvement. The first were the arms, which immediately bloated outwards as mass began to develop. Thick, juicy muscles pushed outwards to create firm biceps, triceps, and forearms. Veins snaked their way downwards to process more flow of testosterone and other hormones. Tony’s hands, which were previously delicate enough to make a typewriter silent, ballooned out as extra flesh made each of his fingers into calloused sausages. They were now only meant to throw, grip, and squeeze.

The tingling then moved across the shoulders and into Tony’s torso. Straight, strong shoulder blades popped out as his chest began to inflate with each huff. Two sturdy pecs pushed against his shirt fiercely, causing the buttons to eventually fly off in random directions. After the pectorals had arrived, they were followed by a magnificent eight-pack that was sure to impress crowds. A hard, defined core helped Tony’s stature become more masculine, giving him a stronger alpha presence to compare to the coach’s.

With the torso improved, the tingling split into two. The first colony swam south, spreading across Tony’s extended legs. The twitching began much more as the Coach eagerly watched the khakis strain at the seams before ripping. As they slipped away–along with his briefs–two sets of gloriously crafted trunks were revealed. Beefy quads were taking in their first light just like the sculpted calves below. A pair of succulent buttocks had also appeared below, hoisting Tony up a little further into Coach Sorenson’s armpit. The sheer size of Tony’s legs forced him to subconsciously push them apart to allow room for his below-average pouch. Although Tony wasn’t a true man yet, his newly-permanent manspread said otherwise.

The tingling also made sure to target Tony’s feet, giving off a similar feeling as if they had fallen asleep. The two soles began to slowly pulse outwards, gaining mass and girth with each increasing centimeter. It wasn’t long before Tony’s shoes were simply destroyed, losing their shape as they were torn into multiple pieces. Coach Sorenson watched on proudly as he swiftly pushed the remains of all the destroyed clothing underneath the coffee table. With surprise, he noticed that Tony was still wearing socks. They had once been knee-high, but now rested right at the ankle, just barely managing to cover the Size 16 feet.

The second group of tingles had now moved upwards, quickly bringing along a flurry of changes as it zipped by. Tony’s neck grew outwards to support larger, broadening vocal chords, which now provided a grumbling bass voice similar in timbre to the coach’s. Tony’s head lengthened out to give him a wider, more prominent chin, allowing for a sharper jaw in return. His ears perked out a little more, along with giving him a bigger nose, wider lips, and piercing brown eyes to replace his shimmering blue ones. His hair also tidied itself up, pulling back up and flopping over as it now had a modern, but natural lift to it.

“Yeah, you’re looking real good,” Coach Sorenson murmured, shoving Tony a little deeper into his pit. “Now, let’s see the namesake of Heir…”

The tingling returned to its roaring presence across Tony’s body once more, except this time it felt more like itching. Sprouts of hair follicles began to explode forth from Tony’s skin, blooming all across his legs, chest, and pubes. Hefty tufts swirled around each other on Tony’s forearms and thighs, while dense forests now covered his calves, chest, and the tops of his feet. Tony’s upper arms were pushed out just slightly to make room for the emerging jungles of pit hair, which now filled in a space Tony had no idea existed before. His face also gained a rather gracious smattering of hair, as he now adorned an extended goatee that could grow back in less than 24 hours. A strong odor began to erupt out of Tony’s body too, a masculine funk coming from his pits and feet that demanded authority.

“…and of Maturitatem.”

Coach Sorenson hadn’t exactly known how much of the detergent to add, but he had assumed a few drops was enough when he had mixed it into the cologne. By the looks of it, he had put in the perfect amount, as the effects were rather minor but definitely noticeable. Tightening of muscles all across Tony’s body came first, followed by the tiniest of wrinkles and weathered skin. Tony’s hairline fell noticeably back, and his once full head of hair lost its youthful thickness. His marvelous eight pack thrusted forward into a powerful muscle gut, almost identical to the coach’s. Finally, Tony’s body hair became a little denser and coarser, adding a few more playful curls across his limbs.

“You’re looking much better,” Coach Sorenson commented as he slowly brought Tony out of his armpit. Tony was startled and bewildered, the smell of the coach’s pits still potent in his nose.

“Now, let’s get you changed into, well, something.” The coach quickly maneuvered his lumbering body across the room to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a set of clothes.

“I always have a few spare shirts and shorts,” Coach Sorenson began as he plodded back over to Tony. “And looking at you, I’d say we’re pretty close to the same size now.”

As Tony was still in a daze, the coach had to help him put on the clothes. First, he carefully placed a tight, gray compression shirt over Tony’s chest, struggling a little at the pecs but eventually making it over. Then, he proceeded to shimmy a pair of blue compression shorts up Tony’s bare lower body, not bothering to grab him any sort of underwear. The coach knew he would rather be commando in the end anyway. Coach Sorenson also grabbed a black baseball hat that had been hanging on the wall and placed it on Tony’s head, making sure to twist it. Although Tony now looked to be around 30, he could still rock a backwards cap.

“Alright,” Coach grunted as he collapsed back into the loveseat beside Tony, the two barely fitting now. “There’s just one more thing we have to do.”

“One… more thing?” Tony’s sonorous voice seemed lifeless. His head had just begun to clear up, but at such a tedious rate that even the simplest of thoughts were difficult to comprehend.

“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know that this process had two steps.” Coach Sorenson grinned, glistening in the warmth of his own arrogance.

“First, there’s the cologne, which you’ve already experienced.” The coach brought up one of his feet onto the coffee table. Tony nodded in response, still unable to think straight.

“And then,” Coach Sorenson yanked off one of his sneakers. “there’s the sole of the shoe. It’s specially designed to help you mentally process the transformation.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yeah,” the coach replied, nonchalantly shoving the sneaker into Tony’s face. “When I read your article, which wasn’t half bad might I add, I was surprised to find that you had missed a whole component of our project.”

Tony, who had finally started to make it out of the haze, was sucked right back in as he passionately inhaled the coach’s foot funk.

“But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Coach Sorenson demeaningly patted Tony’s back. “In a few minutes, you’ll barely be able to read an article, let alone write one. You’ll be just what the Athletic Department needs.”

To the coach’s delight, Tony had now grabbed the gargantuan shoe and was holding it to his own nose. His frantic sniffing was quickly replacing his personalities, values, and morals; shifting them out with thoughts crafted for a team player. Years of academic clubs, races, and scholarships fell away into the abyss, only to be replaced with numerous sport outings of various kinds. His saxophone lessons had changed to baseball practices, his writing seminars had switched into working out in the gym, and his tutoring sessions had flipped from him being the tutor into him being the tutored.

An extra ten years were also added onto his mental plate, giving Tony a whole new history. For years after (somehow) graduating from the university with a Sports Education degree, he had worked as a personal trainer at a local gym, climbing the ranks until he had become the assistant manager. That’s when Coach had dropped by to check on him, with his true intent to offer him an assistant coaching position back at the university. Tony had agreed to an interview not only because it would put his degree to good use, but he’d also get to work with Coach again, and under him. Tony suddenly recalled all the late nights he spent with Coach, lots of one-on-one brojobs, handjobs, and of course, offering his hole whenever Coach needed it. And if Tony got to train his own team, he’d have a group of young boys at his sexual disposal. Just thinking about it made his cock spring to life.

Speaking of his cock, all the information that was being replaced had to move somewhere else, with the only available option being Tony’s balls. With all of his former intellect and memories now stored there, the once previously grape-sized testicles had now bloated into two ample tennis balls. In response to the new volume, Tony’s sack began to ferment the material, slowly dissolving it down and reconstructing into pure jock seed. As the new production began, testosterone dispersed throughout Tony’s pouch, affecting his dick instantly. It was already hard at 5 inches, but it hastily expanded forward into his shorts, becoming as thick as a beer can as it now stood at 9.5 inches.

As everything that made up Tony was now accumulated in Tony’s balls, Coach Sorenson knew it was time for the final step. He gently grabbed the man’s giant cock, gave a good, long squeeze, and let go. Tony in turn took a deep, heavy inhale of the coach’s shoe before exhaling slowly, allowing for a giant wet spot to appear on the front of his shorts. The coach then leisurely made his way back to his own chair, taking a seat and getting into position. Now given more space, the new man hiked up both of his legs arrogantly on the coffee table, spreading them as far apart as possible to take up as much space on the loveseat as he could. Although he knew Coach Sorenson would always be superior, he wanted to make it clear that he could be an alpha too.

“Thank you for coming in today, Tony. I’m glad we could get you here on such short notice.”

“Of course, bro,” Tony responded. “I’d do anything for you, Coach.”

“Good to know,” Coach Sorenson winked before continuing. “Because I know you’re not that bright, we can skip past the logistics and get right to the basics.”

“That’s sick! Thanks, Coach.” Tony gave a dull guffaw.

“Now, Tony,” Coach accentuated the name, chewing on it intently. “Tony isn’t a name that demands respect, authority, and masculinity, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Coach.”

“To be a coach, you know how important it is to give the right impression. You need to be an example to these boys, someone they can look up too.”

“Yeah, Coach.”

“I know you want my advice.  I am a good mentor.”

“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Anthony Renz.” The change inside Anthony’s head was instant

“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.

“Try it on me.”

“Hello, my name is Anthony Renz.” Any existence of the name Tony Reardon ceased to exist as Anthony Renz came into place.

“Very good, Anthony.” Hearing Coach say it, as though it always had been, made Anthony cum just a little more inside his shorts.

“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.

“Yeah bro?”

“Are you missing anything?”

Anthony thought it was an odd question, but he decided to respond to it truthfully.

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

“Perfect,” Coach Sorenson replied. “Welcome to the team. Before you head out, let’s talk pay.”

Coach Sorenson proudly looked over his new Assistant Baseball Coach, happy that he’d gotten rid of a nuisance and filled a seat on his board. No one would come looking for Tony Reardon, but if they did, Coach Sorenson would know just what to do with them. Maybe Assistant Coach Renz would have some coworkers in the near future.

Cocky And Proud, By Accident

Greg's roommate Chris had just begun his 10 month stay in Japan as a part of a student exchange program. In the beginning Greg thought that maybe, just maybe, he would have their 2 bed dorm all to himself. Then he realized he would probably be living with a student from Japan. After all, Chris was taking part in a student exchange program.

But he didn't expect what actually happened. He was assigned a new roommate, who turned out to be Heath Richards, a jock from the football team. When Greg was informed of the administration's decision he just sighed. This was going to be a hard year.

From the moment Heath first entered Greg's room it was clear his new roommate was a textbook example of a college football bro. He was loud - screaming while watching TV, belching and burping, laughing with that dumb jock chuckle. His clothes were everywhere and he refused to pick them up no matter how often Greg would remind him. This also meant that his sweaty smell quickly filled the whole room and removing this stench seemed impossible.

Greg was stuck with a dumb football jock for a roommate and he hated every minute of it. But there was nothing he could do as there was no process to appeal the decision that put Heath in his room. He also didn't have the money to move out and rent a studio off campus. So he was stuck with Heath. And that musky, sweaty smell.

One day Greg woke up and while still groggy and half-asleep, he started looking for clothes to wear. He opened his drawer and took out the pair of boxer briefs from the top of the pile and put it on. He then moved to their small kitchen area to prepare himself some breakfast. As he mixed the oatmeal he felt as if Heath's smell was more noticeable than usual.

"broooooooo" He suddenly heard the jock's voice behind him "why you wearin' my Under Armour boxers dude?"

"What?" Greg looked down and he gasped as he realized that the underwear he was wearing was not his usual kind, but Heath's black Under Armour boxer briefs.

"Fuck, how the hell did these get into my drawer, dude?"

"dunno brah, just calm down bro" Heath just shrugged "ya can wear them dude if ya want, i don't care, i have like 20 more after signing that sweet deal" Greg was about to scream at the guy, demanding he finally take care of his clothes when a thought entered his mind. You enjoy wearing Under Armour. It was a foreign thought, almost as if someone else had planted it in Greg's mind. But it stayed there, and though he was still angry at Heath, the need to take off the boxers just disappeared.

"Ugh" he just groaned "you jocks are all the same" he muttered under his breath and finished making his oatmeal, which he then took back to his desk. He sat down and started eating. You enjoy the smell of sweat, especially after a workout. The feeling of disgust at Heath's stench disappeared instantly, replaced by a slight enjoyment of the salty smell.

Greg quickly ate his breakfast, then got ready for the day. He put on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a hoodie, his ass still covered by Heath's UA boxer briefs. He saw the jock sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, wearing only a jockstrap, with his legs spread wide apart, looking at something on his phone. Greg rolled his eyes as he took his bag in his hand and walked up to the door.

"I hope I won't find any more of your clothes in my drawer, Heath" he barked at his roommate as he opened the door.

"yeah, yeah, calm down bruh" Heath drawled in response, then scratched his bulge. Greg sighed and left the room, ready to get through all the classes he had to attend today.

Greg was sitting on his third lecture of the day, still not the last, taking notes diligently. The professor went on and on, his charisma barely perceptible and he seemed to be the only person in the room who was still following what the older man was saying. Then, as the prof was looking at the computer, trying to change his presentations, a thought was implanted into Greg's mind. You have an IQ of 80 and don't care about academics.

He stopped taking notes and looked around. Fuck, how much longer was this lecture going to take? Greg shifted around in his seat, spreading his legs wider apart. The old dude leading the class resumed talking but he didn't really get what he was saying. It all sounded so boring.

An hour later, Greg was finally free of that old dude's ramblings. He looked at his phone and realized he still had one class left. Huhuh, nope, he was not going to suffer, not for one minute longer. And so he left the rest of his group and started walking towards the dorms. His brain needed time to relax after this mind numbing experience.

When he entered his dorm room, Heath was sitting on the couch, watching game tape on his laptop. Wait, how did he know it was game tape?

"ey dude, yer early bro" Heath commented, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Yeah..." Greg nodded, but then he didn't know what to say, he didn't have the words. You speak like a dumb jock.

"dude, lectures were so fuckin' boring bro, huhuhuh" Greg let out a dumb chuckle as he approached Heath and then sat down on the couch.

"duh bro, never got why ya bothered with all that academic bullshit bro, i see yer finally seeing how dumb all that shit is" Heath paused the video on his laptop and looked at Greg. "the only reason to stay in school is fuckin sports dude, ain't no other way to get to the NFL bro" He then furrowed his brow as he looked into Greg's eyes "you play ball dude?"

Greg was surprised by the question and as his brain was processing it, another thought appeared. You are a cornerback playing for the Atlanta Golden Eagles.

"yeah bruh huhuhuhuh, am a damn cornerback" Greg let out another dumb chuckle and Heath looked at him, suddenly very confused.

"shit, i gotta get ya to coach" He put the laptop away and stood up "follow me bruh"

Coach was not thrilled when he learned what happened to Greg. When Heath brought him to his office it took a while to get the necessary context out of the dumb jock, but eventually Coach was able to understand what had occured.

His supplements which turn all his players into strong and cocky football jocks had a weird quirk - it spread through his body and entered the jock's cum. And because Heath was one nasty jock, he got off into his boxers and didn't even wash them. so when Greg put on Heath's used boxers, some of the supplement got into his system and the his transformation began.

Coach was not thrilled, but he quickly , but he quickly decided to use this whole mishap to his advantage. He activated his connections, did some work himself and got himself a new player - cornerback Greg Geralt Evans. A few rounds of Coach's supplement and Geralt would be just as muscular as his best bro Heath, ready to get on the gridiron destroy any opposing team.

And Chris would have to find himself a new place to live after coming back form Japan.

If you had one word - just one word - to describe yourself, what word would you use?

Man, that’s a tough one, bro, I dunno.  I guess alot of my friends would say I’m a typical bro, you know, I like all the bro things that bros do, I kinda bro out alot, especially since I met him, yknow?  Even though it don’t really feel like it’s only since I met him, it’s more like it’s been happening in slow motion for my whole life, if that makes any sense, you know?  Like a sleeper thing, like it was asleep in me, and just like, woke up, sorta, when I met my bro.  So I guess I’d say bro, that’d be a good word to describe me, cuz it doesn’t only describe me but it describes my bro too.  Two halfs, one whole.  You dig?

Okay, sure.  I’m not really sure I - exactly follow your train of thought, but okay.  Next question.  With whom in your life would you say you are closest?  It could be a roommate, or a –

That’s a easy one!  Totally my bro.  We do fuckin everything together.  We even share clothes.  Work out together, climb shit together, go hiking, play ball - football, baseball, basketball.  He says he’s gonna teach me how to skate, too, so we can even play hockey together.  How fuckin sweet is that?  We’re gettin big together, like crazy.  Already pretty ripped.  Been takin these awesome supps that my bro gave me.  You outta try em, bro.  You work out?

I, sure, yeah.  Go to the gym.  Not real regular, but I work out some.  But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.

Oh yeah.  I forgot again.  Just sayin, bro, you could probly use some of these awesome supps.  You look like you could be pretty big.  If you wanted to, yknow.

Have you always been such a workout junkie?

Huhuhuhuh workout junkie.  That’s a funny way to put it, bro.  Dya mind if I call you bro, bro?  I guess I just kinda call everyone bro now.  Huhuh, even chicks.  It’s cool though. 

So …

Uh, sorry bro.   What was the question again?

Have you always been such a … uh - did you always, yknow.  Uh, workout.  Alot.  I mean, your guns are fuckin huge.

Fuck yeah, right?  Look even better when I flex.  Been workin the bis extra hard lately with bro.  See?

Wow.  Fuck.  That’s, uh, yeah.  Fuck.

Yeah bro!  Uh, you sportin a little wood there, bro, huhuh, you like what you see?  Yeah, it’s cool, bro.  You wanna just kinda stick your hand in your shorts and mess around a bit, that’s cool, bro.  How ya feelin?

Uhhhh … fuck … good, bro … real fuckin good …

Fuck yeah bro!  Maybe you can come workout with me an my bro sometime, shape up your guns.  Hey, so what’d you say you were interviewin me for anyway?

Uh, the school … paper.  Fuck.  Fuuuuck.  Your friends, they wanted to know … fuck …. where you’d gone …

Yeah, bro.  Uh, what friends?  What paper? 

Yeah … what friends.  What paper.

Yeah bro!  Hey, I got a hat for you.  It’s just like the one my bro gave me when I met my bro.  It’s cool, right?

Fuck yeah …

Says “REBORN.”

Reborn, bro.

Fuck yeah!   

Ball Practice

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-13 by time-to-transform ---

I saw you checking us out at our practices. Can’t blame you, I mean watching a bunch of muscular jocks getting sweaty and tackling one another is pretty fucking hot.

I decided to do you a favor and transform you into the football that we’ll use from now on. Now, instead of watching from a distance, you can be up close to all of the sexiness going on here. I bet you’ll love being gripped tightly by my strong, meaty hands. And just wait until we start sweating even more, the manly odor we produce from all this exercise absolutely reeks.

If you got turned off simply by looking at us practice, you’re going to be in a horny paradise from now on. Hope you enjoy spending the rest of your life being roughly handled and tightly held by a bunch of sweaty football jocks. You’re welcome.

Alpha Orders

--- Originally posted on 2023-08-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Troy?”

“In here!”

Marco walked into the living room, spotting his roommate lounged out on the couch. Although he didn’t look 22, Troy’s youthful figure was almost completely absorbed by whatever game he was playing. His petite body was tense and focused. He looked like one of those hairless cats ready to spring forward.

“Whatcha playin’?” Marco asked.

“It’s some new game Franklin gave me,” Troy replied. Franklin was also a nerdy type, but while Troy just mostly looked the part, Franklin actually played the part. Glasses, suspenders, kind of a pushover. It was strange that someone could fit a stereotype so perfectly.

“It’s called Alpha Orders.”

“Kinda like ‘Simon Says’?” Troy asked, grabbing a snack from the kitchen. Since college had started, he’d put on a considerable amount of weight. He fit the ex-jock bill pretty well. But his girlfriend didn’t mind. In fact, she remarked about liking the pudge that had started filling in his frame. As long as he shaved, she always joked, he wouldn’t look like a bear.

“Kinda…” Troy mumbled. Marco shoved a handful of Goldfish down his throat and looked over his roommate once more. The shrimp sure was invested. His eyes appeared somewhat glazed over.

“Seeing how much you love it, do you think I should try it once you’re finished?”

It took Troy a moment to respond. Suddenly, Troy’s body pumped up. Almost like a heartbeat, but affecting his entire body as if someone had pushed the lever down on a tire pump. Marco blinked, rationalizing that his eyes were playing tricks on him out of hunger. The loose button-up and straight jeans Troy was wearing didn’t look any tighter. Yeah, he just needed some more Goldfish down the hatch. Marco eagerly complied with the prescription he’d given himself.

“Uh…” Troy started slowly. “You should just…go to Franklin. Get another copy.”

“Oh,” Marco replied flatly. It was a little odd that Troy didn’t want to share with him after he was done. It was usually chill when it came to the roommates swapping stuff between each other. But if Marco was being honest he didn’t really mind taking the short trip. He didn’t have any homework or plans today anyway, so going over to Franklin’s wouldn’t be a bother.

“Sure, not a bad idea,” Marco shrugged, tossing a few more crackers in his mouth. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Marco had only been to Franklin’s place once or twice to pick Troy up, but he still knew the way to the nerd’s house. Those two looked oddly alike with their small, thin frames and youthful faces. And by how often those two hung out, heck, they could’ve been secretly dating for all he knew. But Marco remembered wingmanning for Troy once. It hadn’t gone particularly well, but Marco did end up with the chick who’d passed Troy off later that night. Luckily, his roommate had never found about the one nighter.

Marco knocked on the door to Franklin’s place. “Franklin? It’s Marco.”

“Yeah,” a rumbling bass replied back, allowing for Marco to open the door. A blast of sweaty musk spilled outwards, causing Marco to stagger. He blinked, hoping to clear his head a little before he entered. He always forgot how pungent the man was, especially in a concentrated place like the apartment.

Sitting back in a recliner was Mr. F, stripped down to just a pair of tiny running shorts. Marco could tell the man was commando underneath the controller–the guy never did try to hide his monster cock. And why should he? He was a total alpha male after all. Tall, well-built, hairy. Had a voice that shook the room and an attitude that shook people’s knees. Including the guy that was at Mr. F’s massive feet, servicing them diligently as Mr. F played his game. Marco didn’t mind though, knowing Mr. F deserved this kind of specialized treatment.

“Mr. F,” Marco started, pacing across the room.

“What do you want?” Mr. F got right to the point. He didn’t even try looking away from the screen.

“I was wondering if I could borrow a copy of that game you gave Troy.” Marco shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “Alpha Orders.”

“Check the kitchen table.”

Marco did as instructed, finding exactly what he was looking for.

“Get me a beer while you’re at it too,” Mr. F commanded. Marco obeyed, not even thinking twice as he snatched a bottle from the fridge and brought it to the man. He didn’t even regard the boy who was currently beside his own feet.

Marco blinked, noticing his apartment door presented in front of him. Wasn’t he just at Mr. F’s place? The game was still in his hand, and everything else looked in order. Except for his watch, which read a full four hours later than when he had arrived at the other man’s residence. But to get to Mr. F’s was only a ten minute drive? Marco didn’t know what had happened, but he had gotten what he wanted. No point in thinking about it much longer.

Marco opened the front door and strolled in, noticing a peculiar thickness to the air. Although he couldn’t see his roommate, some audio from the living room alerted him that Troy was still there. Marco didn’t even bother kicking off his shoes as he strolled into the kitchen and snatched a granola bar. He figured he’d be bunking down in his own room for a bit so as to not disturb his roommate. Being the bigger (much bigger) half of the pair, Marco knew he’d be more of a nuisance than if Troy had been in the same situation.

“Hey dude, still at it…” Marco droned off. On the couch was a man–a real masculine, macho man. He was taller than Marco, larger than Marco, and exuded a more dominant aura than Marco. He was like a crossover between a bodybuilder and a lumberjack, filling out the blue flannel with his solid pecs, thick shoulders, and hairy arms. The jeans were tight around his lower half too, leading all the way to the massive Size 14 feet propped up on the coffee table. And Marco couldn’t believe the size of this man’s junk. He thought the controller lying on top was vibrating, but after a few moments he realized it was the giant lump underneath that was actually throbbing.

“‘Bout time you got here,” the man grunted. He casually itched the massive beard on his face, which was somehow still not enough to hide the lantern jaw hidden within. “I texted you a while ago.”

Marco blinked. “Oh, sorry Mr. T, I-”

“You shouldn’t make me wait,” Mr. T asserted, his gruff tone making him sound older than his 37 years. “I had to stop my game. I was near the end.”

Marco turned towards the screen, noticing that his roommate was already 80% finished with the main task. Whatever that was.

“Mr. T, I’m sorry,” Marco started. “I was at Mr. F’s and lost track of time.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Mr. T corrected. “Apologize to the lads.”

Marco nodded, getting down on his knees and leaning in towards Mr. T’s feet. Both of them had a pungent funk, but it was more subtle than Mr. F’s. After a quick bow of his head, Marco kissed both of them, expressing his most sincere remorse as to not being there when needed. As the alpha in the apartment, Mr. T naturally needed service regularly. Marco was always happy to oblige, as it was his position on the social ladder. It had nothing to do with sexuality after all. Quite the opposite. Both of the men were ramrod straight, but Mr. T was born to dominate men everywhere but the bedroom.

“Good boy.” Mr. T had yet to look up from his phone once. “Now go off to another room, I will call you when I need you.”

Marco did as he was told, grabbing his things and moving off to his room. He shut the door behind him politely so as to not disturb the other man. He couldn’t believe he screwed up like that, so focused on getting this silly game that he’d been late for his primary role as a good roommate. Marco just hoped it was worth all the hype.

Marco popped the disc into his personal console and kicked back in the couch. He casually readjusted his pouch underneath his sweats, noting the strip of bare skin now visible due to the ballooning of his stomach. He huffed disappointedly, knowing this white shirt was just one of the many that had become victims to his recent…expansion.

“ALPHA ORDERS,” the screen read aggressively. Securing his headphones over his baseball cap, Marco hit the play button. A loading screen appeared next, an arrow creating the same biological gender symbol for male over and over. It would loop in a circle, before jutting off at the last moment to the top right. And then it would start again, and again, and again. Marco just watched on, waiting.

“ALPHA ORDERS…” the screen began, causing Marco to ready his controller. “YOU TO EMBODY AND EXALT THE MULTIFACETED VIRTUES OF MASCULINITY.”

Marco just stared at the screen, not knowing what exactly to do. Was this some kind of puzzle game? Like was he supposed to hit a certain button based off of the prompt given to him? He blinked, unsure of what to do. He already did embody masculinity with his well-muscled frame, the fur underneath his shirt covering it, and his aura of testosterone. And he exalted it alright, making sure to display his masculinity at all times. Although this white shirt wasn’t doing his stacked abs any justice.

A little ping sounded from the screen as he moved onto the second task. Marco didn’t know how the game had registered something, but he couldn’t help if even technology could sense his manliness.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO RESIDE AT THE TOP OF THE HIERARCHY AND ESTABLISH OTHERS’ PLACE BENEATH IT.”

Marco blinked, making sure to fondle his hefty pouch generously. Oh yeah, he knew what kind of power he had. Pussies practically called to him and his 9-incher. Marco was a predator, always on the winning team. Getting serviced whenever he wanted was guaranteed to him. There was a reason people called him “Mr. M”, “Sir”, or even “Master.” He wasn’t toxic; Marco was in-toxic-ating. Any alpha man was. Everyone loves an arrogant douchebag because they knew their place. His dick was begging for attention beneath his sweats, and going commando made it easy for Marco to give it a quick tug.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO FOLLOW PRIMAL INSTINCT–BRAIN IS FOR BETA, MANHOOD IS FOR MAN.”

Marco rubbed his eyes, having to read the stupidity of that last part again. He thought it was stupid, but after blinking he recognized its truth. Yeah he was led by his pussystuffer! What was he supposed to do? Listen to his head? Marco knew that was useless. Learning was for nerds, and school was for…ultra nerds. He wasn’t a loser! His dick led him wherever he needed to go. Gotta get some cash? Find someone to give it to him with his cock. Hungry? Someone will feed him food while he feeds them with his own personal sausage. Need a blowjob? That will come from any chick around no questions asked.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO PRODUCE AN AURA THAT INSPIRES LOYALTY AND SUBMISSION.”

Marco blinked, taking in a whiff of his own body odor while doing so. He twitched a little, noting a little bit of heat at the end that made his musk all the more enticing. Marco stunk up everywhere he went; deodorants just couldn’t mask his manly aroma. It wasn’t a crime to smell like an ALPHA! Marco’s natural, masculine scent just put those other betas to shame. With damp, bushy pits and Size 13 stompers, it was practically Marco’s destiny to have an ever present, robust malodorous cloud.

Marco’s eyes briefly moved up to the top of the screen, noting his task bar was at 80%. It was right where his roommate had stopped earlier. He hoped that meant he was close. He needed someone to worship him NOW!

“ALPHA ORDERS…” the screen read. Marco blinked, noticing the screen was taking a longer time than usual to display its next command. He blinked again, bringing a hand down to his crotch. Marco couldn’t believe it, blinking again. He began furiously groping himself, bringing himself to the edge as he waited. What was the final order? What was he supposed to do? Marco blinked, feeling a rush spiral down his spine right into his cannon. What did Alpha Order?

“YOU TO BE FULLY HOMOSEXUAL TO COMPLETELY DOMINATE OTHER MEN BY MIND, BODY, AND ACTION.”

Marco’s mouth dropped. Was this game serious? How was he supposed to accomplish this task? It wasn’t like he could just suddenly go gay. Sure, he knew when another man was handsome or good looking, but he had never swung that way. Marco knew other guys servicing him came off as strange sometimes–even his girlfriend had questioned him on it once or twice–but that was just to display his authority. But he never found it erotic! It just wasn’t his thing. Marco blinked, simply not understanding what to do.

Because he was already the gayest guy he knew around. He loved men and boys. There was nothing that made him happier than dumping a dude on the ground and ripping them open. He adored the way they treated his body like the temple it was. The way they worshiped him like the god he was. Men were the best at pleasuring other men, so it only made sense an alpha like him was gay. Frank, Troy, Marco; they all understood the best way to be at the top of the ladder was to put other men in their places beneath them, whether it be sucking on his cock or his toes.

“Yo, Marco!” Troy announced as he entered the room. “I got some boys rolling over here in 10. I will let you claim dibs on which part you want to serv…”

Troy stopped, observing the jockish man staring at the screen in front of him.

Troy blinked, registering his fellow alpha had just finished whatever game he had been playing.

“What did you say?” Marco’s voice had a cocky, sultry air to it.

“I said I got some boys rolling over here in 10.” Troy rolled his eyes. “I will let you claim dibs on one of them if you need to be serviced right now.”

Without moving his eyes off the screen, Marco shut down his console and scratched his ball sack.

“Bro, alphas like us always need to be serviced.”

Swapsidite stone

--- Originally posted on 2019-10-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

ROMAN’S PERSPECTIVE

“Come on Roman, let’s get to work.”

I kicked off my small shoes and sulkingly walked into Mr. Jefferson’s house. I was still embarrassed that I had scratched his car during a neighborhood soccer game. All the other kids in the neighborhood were playing soccer with me, yet here I was, the only one who had to pay up. Just because I was the one who ran into his car and scraped my cleats across his door shouldn’t mean that I have to make it up to him all alone. I mean, how much can one twelve-year-old do anyway?

At least Mr. Jefferson was a pretty cool dude. He let me off fairly easy, saying that I just had to come over for one day and help around his house. He had moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, buying the entire rambler to himself. I’d always hear my parents talking about him, how they feared he was growing a little too old to stay a bachelor. I’d seen a few women come over to his house and stay the night, but no real signs of commitment. He seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe already in his 40s, the guy was definitely past his prime. Unkempt beard, flabby stomach, and poor choice in clothes, he wasn’t the best looking neighbor on the block. I didn’t know much about fashion, but everyone knows that the dress shirts, jeans, and flip-flops don’t go together. He even had a weird-looking necklace on, something I’d never seen before today.

No matter what I said about his body or clothing, my opinion was rather meaningless. Still waiting for puberty, my short, skinny, and hairless body wasn’t anything special. I wore a bulky football jersey and mesh shorts to make my appearance seem bigger, but I’m pretty sure it just made me look smaller.

Mr. Jefferson led me to his kitchen and showed me a stack of boxes.

“I need you to bring all of these downstairs,” he said in a deep voice, “I don’t have much for you to do today, so I hope you remember that, even though I don’t think you will.” He walked towards the living room and out of my view. What did he mean he didn’t think I’d remember this? Was he trying to make a backhanded comment or was he just being honest?

“It’s all super easy, Roman. I promise!” Mr. Jefferson shouted from the other room, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged it off and grabbed the first of the boxes. It was a little heavy, but I’d be able to manage. I walked around the house slowly, the weight causing my stride to be a little off. Once I had eventually found the staircase, I placed the box down and wiped my brow of sweat. It had become a little more than I had expected. Procrastinating the inevitable, I surveyed the area around me. I noticed Mr. Jefferson sitting in a yellow chair--he was in my view, but luckily I wasn’t in his. He held the necklace up to his face, examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. I swear I saw him whisper a few words into it and saw it glow lightly, but before I could focus any more on it, he began to shift in his seat. I quickly picked up the box and, forgetting its weight, marched down the stairs.

— —

I carefully placed the last box down next to the others and ran up the stairs, my mediocre-sized feet making little noise. I walked into the main area, and, after pushing the brown hairs away from my eyes, found Mr. Jackson still sitting in his chair, smugly reading something on his phone.

“I’m done, Mr. Jackson,” I exclaimed proudly, my soft baritone ringing in the room. He slowly got up from the chair and guided me over to my next project.

Mr. Jackson and I had been pretty close these last few years. Ever since that one day I had stupidly run into his car during a soccer game, I had often come over to help with his other chores. Although he was only in his mid-thirties, the single man still had a lot to do around the house. After a while, he began to pay me for my work, persuading me to come over every summer. He even offered me a raise this year, saying that I should get some extra money before college in a few months. I probably could’ve gotten a better paying job, but my personal connection with Mr. Jackson made it hard to turn down. Luckily, it turned out to work for the best.

Ducking under a short ledge, we walked into a small closet behind the main bathroom.

“Alright, Ronan,” Mr. Jackson began, pointing to rolls of paper towels, “I need you to bring these down into the laundry room. Once you’re done with those, come and find me again; I’ll be in the same place as usual.”

Being that both Mr. Jackson and I were the same height, he didn’t have to grab anything down for me. He walked off as I grabbed the first few rolls, being able to fit a decent amount in between my large palms and toned arms. Over the school year, I made sure to start the healthy habit of working out, hoping to get ahead of the freshman fifteen. I had never really gotten into sports through high school, but I made sure to keep my body through the school gym during my senior year. It took me a while to start working at it, but progress eventually began to show. After only a few months, my body had firmed up with the beginnings of abs and some perceptible biceps and triceps. It wasn’t much, but I was fairly proud of myself. It also made an impression on my boyfriend, which became an extra motivator for me.

I strolled out of the closet and walked back towards the staircase downwards. I saw Mr. Jackson sitting in his chair again, scratching his small beard as he read a small book. I itched my own stubble with my shoulder as I descended, remembering how I had forgotten to shave this morning.

— —

Once I dropped the last load into the laundry room, I guided myself up the stairs, ready for the next assignment.

“Next thing?” I shouted as I strolled into the room where the other man sat.

“Finished so quickly, Robbie?” He quipped, getting up from his chair. He knew I was going to fly through that job in minutes. I barely had to put out any effort; my military experience made it rather simple to carry everything down.

“Got anything harder for me, bro?” I said, itching my buzz cut. I had just returned after four years in the service, which I had come to realize were some of the best years of my life. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree, I decided to draft myself into the military and spend some time overseas. My parents and friends didn’t approve at first, but after a while they realized it was good for me--and by that I mean my physical appearance.

Coming home to see my parents shocked faces a few days ago was one of the funniest moments I had experienced. When they saw the lumbering, muscular man walk out of the airport, they didn’t expect to hear their names coming from his [my] mouth. The military had given me a rather strict routine, providing me with an impressive 6-pack, defined upper arms, and powerful quads.

After spending some time with my family, I decided to visit my old friend next door. We had gone through most of school together, with my neighbor only two years older than me. I hadn’t been able to spend his thirtieth birthday with him a few weeks ago, so I was making it up by helping him move into his new house. He had bought his house from his parents, now owning the very place he grew up in. Assisting my old friend reminded me of when we were younger and I scratched his parents’ car during a game of soccer. I can still vaguely remember all the chores I had to do that day to pay for the damage.

“Since you’re so good at this,” he snarked, “I think I’ll give you something a little more difficult to do.” We both walked to his front door and, after grabbing my average-sized shoes, made our way to the backyard. I had been over here plenty of times, the two of us spending hours here when we were little, but now it looked almost completely different. The old playground and slide were removed, now replaced with a disheveled patch of grass and a modern fire pit. Where once stood the garden was now a brand new shed, and as my neighbor opened it, I realized it was where he stored all of his seasonal gear.

“I’d love it if you could mow the lawn for me,” he began, “it’s never really been my thing.” He smirked arrogantly, knowing I’d do anything he said because I missed his birthday. I pulled out an old lawnmower and pushed it out of the shed, my old friend had already gone back into his house. I adjusted my jersey, which fit perfectly tight on my frame, and pulled at the engine. The motor revved up, purring obnoxiously as it began. Although I was very athletic, mowing was still such a bore. As my long legs glided across the yard, I reminded myself to never miss another one of his birthdays again.

— —

I brushed over the last part of the lawn and let go of the brake, causing the motor to stop. I brought a palm up to my sweaty forehead, pushing the black hair back back on top of my head, revealing my receding hairline. I still can’t believe I agreed to mowing for Jackson--the guy’s no older than 25 afterall. He had the body for it too: we had worked out together before, so I knew he was fairly toned.

Then again, I had no problem at all with the physical exercise. Ever since returning home from the military 12 years ago, I had made sure to keep my body in shape. My muscularity isn’t exactly what it used to be (age does that), but I still take a vast amount of pride in my work. I still have the torso, arms, and legs of a football player, but now with the firm maturity of adulthood. I also still have the libido of a football player; no one told me that your cock gets meatier as time passes.

After pushing the lawnmower back into the shed, I made my way to the front of the house. I opened the door, kicked off my large shoes, and made my way to the living room. There, sitting comfortably in his yellow chair, was Jackson, reading his phone once again, his shirt lying on the floor.

“I was hot,” he replied, seeing my confused face. His voice was smooth, deep and youthful.

“Alright,” I said before yanking off my shirt, revealing a shaved, muscular torso with a black treasure trail. Bulging arms and wet, hairy pits also became visible to the world.

“I’m hot too.” The smell of my sweat and odorous armpits began to flood the room.

“I think I’m done with you for today, Richie,” Jackson muttered before plugging his nose, “but I think you do need a shower.”

“What?” I replied sarcastically, my deep, gravelly voice shaking the room, “You don’t like the smell of this?” I brought my furry underarm up to his face and shoved him playfully. I’ve known him since he was born, so we’re almost as close as we can be. I was already in highschool when he was born, and, being the neighbor, I became his babysitter. As the years flew by, babysitter became friend, workout buddy, and brotherhood, so teasing him with my pungent body odor wasn’t anything new. I knew he didn’t like it because he was straight, but I loved it. Being a homosexual, and a top, made dominating very erotic for me, but Jackson had no idea of my true sexuality. That was why I had to hide my giant boner as he found his way out of my pit.

“Ha!” I guffawed, “Now your going to smell like my pit sweat all day long.”

Jackson glared at me furiously, my beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go take a shower before I kill you,” he said, pointing to the master bathroom.

“Oh, sure,” I retorted before walking off. He could never beat me: I was a man still in his prime. As I stripped myself of my clothes and stepped into the shower, I quietly stroked my dick. Once I got home, I’d have to furiously beat one out like many nights before, probably once again to the thought of Jackson.

— —

JAX’S PERSPECTIVE

I still can’t believe it worked!

With my life lately going to hell, this was my last, desperate choice. Nevertheless, it’s surprising that I even found the necklace in my basement; the people who had lived in the house before must have left it.

When I had found it a few days ago, there was a little note attached describing the name and purpose of the necklace. According to the description, the Swapsidite Stone, the strange chunk at the bottom of the necklace, would switch one of your traits with another person. The trade off however was that whatever you’d swap, the other person would receive double the original bargain. For example, if one person had decided to take a quarter of someone else’s intelligence, the first would receive the quarter bargained for, but the other would dumb down so much that it would seem like the first had taken half. As an added factor, only the person who had the stone one remember their own swap, the rest of reality would change accordingly. That was why I had to consider what I would take and give to someone else.

A few days after I had found the necklace, Roman scratched my car. It was only a coincidence, but I knew it was the perfect time to strike. It took me a while to figure out what I would trade between the two of us, but after a lot of thought I figured out what I desired the most: I wished to redo my past and find a woman to love. I regretted that most of my life I had remained a bachelor, and know was my time.

I decided to trade 20 years of my age to Roman, which meant that he would receive 40 years in total. I felt bad at first, but as I saw him change and reality adjust around us, I began to care less. I had gone from Mr. Jefferson, a 38-year-old loser, to Jax, an 18-year-old stud, in the course of one day, and the best part was that the changes were permanent. I was so excited that as soon as I saw the stone darken to its finish, I stripped down to my underwear and sat back in my chair. I now had the body of a high school jock: thick muscles, blonde haircut, pronounced pouch--it was perfect.

“Hey!” I heard a gruff voice shout from the bathroom, “Where did we put the towels?”

“Back counter!” I yelled back, my voice now a lighter baritone with a more innocent tone. As I sat in my chair, a large, older man walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Usually, the sight of a naked man would disgust me, but right now I was completely enthralled. In front of me stood a true adonis.

The man, who was now 52, had the body of an alpha male. Strong forearms, calves, and hips were brought together by incredibly large biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Not only that, but there were a powerful set of abs hiding beneath two massive pecs, adorned with large nipples. The man’s face showed lines of maturity along the forehead, which were easily visible thanks to his recently-gelled graying hair. The beginnings of a beard also framed his lantern jaw, its shape just as perfect as the ridges of his collarbone. The last thing I noticed was the military academy ring he wore on his left hand, which lay in front of his graying pubes. I assumed there was both a massive dick and large set of balls hiding right underneath.

“What are you looking at?” his husky voice rumbled.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I lied dumbly. Before I could react, he leaned over and snatched the necklace of my neck.

“And what have we got here?” he asked, looking at it oddly.

“Oh, just something I found in the basement,” I replied, giving him half the truth.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it on?” he requested, catching me off guard.

“Sure?” I responded cautiously. He placed the necklace around his neck and smiled smugly.

“This is the Swapsidite Stone, correct?” He already knew the answer, but before I could react he had already muttered something into the stone. The stone began to shine dimly.

“Richard, I can explain, if you’d just-”

“Jax, I know you did something to me. I have no idea what you traded, but at least I know that you did something.”

“But Richard, I-”

“It’s Sir to you.”

“But, Sir-” I froze. Why had I just listened to what he had told me?

“I’ll tell you what I swapped between us, because it won’t matter soon enough.” ~~Richard~~ Sir pulled up a seat from across the room and sat right across from me. He placed the towel aside and let his naked body hang free, his enormous cock standing tall.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since you entered high school. I’ve known you since you were born, I’ve raised you, I’ve made you who you are today, but now I’m going to make you into who I want you to be. You’ve never appreciated what I’ve done for you, so I’ll make it that way.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He was referring to the new reality, while I was still living the old, causing me to have no way to respond.

He took a deep breath before continuing, his tone becoming more serious, “You see, you stupidly left the description card in the bathroom, not even thinking about me finding it. Once I got out of the shower, I finally figured out why you were wearing that ugly necklace. Now it’s my turn to trade and I think you’ll like what it is.”

I tried to get up from the chair, to run away, but I was stuck. It was like I had no control.

“I’m taking half of your dominance. You know what that means right? I’ll become 150% the alpha male.” He leaned over closely, his hot breath on my cheek.

“And you’ll lose all free will. WIth this, I’ll be able to change anything about you that I want, no magic stones needed. Oh, and just to be safe,” he ripped the necklace off his neck and crushed the small stone between his hands, never to be recreated again.

“So I hope you remember that,” he smirked, leaning back, “even though I don’t think you will.”

— —

Something was poking at my hole, and I had now idea what. I slowly opened my eyes, finding a hairy forearm draped over my side. The smell of my dad’s body odor and cum poured from the sheets like a flood, almost as if they had been washed in them. Memories of the pounding dad gave me last night came into my head, causing my miniscule dick to harden. I remember my dad telling me that although it was almost as big as his, it was tiny. I knew he was right--he is always right.

“Morning, Jax,” I hear my dad groan as his dick pushes further inside of me. I moan as he begins to push in and out. This is how mornings usually go: waking up to the smell of old sex, discovering how intelligent and arousing my father is, and then him filling me with his cum. It was always a pleasing cycle.

About ten minutes later, after my insides were filled with his semun. I got up and went to go make breakfast, still in my birthday suit. It only took me minutes to prepare a protein shake and some eggs for my dad. It only took seconds for him to come clomping down the stairs with his abnormally large feet. He always had to specially order his shoes.

Before sitting down, my dad, who was also naked, brought a dirty cup to the tip of his penis and began to piss. A dark, yellow stream dripped in until it was full to the brim.

“Drink up, son,” my dad said as he handed me the cup, “it’s good for you.”

I greedily slurped the steaming liquid down my throat. It was going to be a long day of work ahead, so I had to eat and drink healthy. There were chores to do, dirty laundry to sniff, and fathers to please. I was excited to do it all.

Here's to 28!

--- Originally posted on 2019-06-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

Not only was it the final day of my senior year, it was my birthday, and my plan was nearly complete. After thorough research through numerous different libraries, online sites, and a few difficult equations, I was finally going to get everything I had dreamed of for the big 18!

It had all started in early March, a little while after the tennis team had begun their practices. The sun was shining, the snow was finally melting; spring was upon us. However, it was only about 50 °F, so when I walked by and saw that Julian Richardson, the varsity team captain, was wearing nothing but some skimpy running shorts, all I could do was bite my lip in frustration.

One of the top jocks in the highschool, Julian had everything anyone could have wanted; great looks, tons of money, extremely popular, etc. He looked much more like a senior in college than one in high school. Not only did he have the brawn, but the brains too. He was part of many different clubs outside of athletics, he was even the vice president of the Mathematics Leagues in our state. Now all of this definitely made me jealous, but the worst part about him was his pride. As stated millions of times by not only himself, but his sexual conquests too, he was 100% gay. He was extremely proud of it, so much in fact that he wore something to showcase it everyday. Today, it was a stupid wristband that I noticed as he adjusted his luminous blond hair. Growing up in a good-old, traditional American family, I knew that everything about Julian was against what my Christian beliefs had told me, and it was my job to try and stop it.

After seeing him, I began to rush home, eager to begin my research. Right before I got to my house, I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey, Jake!” My neighbor, Michael, emerged off his porch, “You look like you’re in a rush.” Michael was a man in his late forties, but he certainly didn’t look like it. He was blessed with decent genetics and regularly visited the gym so he was fairly defined. He had always lived in the house right next to mine as long as I could remember, yet he had always lived alone. He took trips out of town every now and then, and sometimes he had friends over who’d stay the night. I was closer with him when I was little, but as I ventured into adolescence we grew more apart. Something about his, lifestyle, seemed a little off to me.

“Yeah,” I said, a little flustered. I must have been going faster than I had thought. “I have a new… erm… game that I’m excited to play.” My conscience had always made it hard for me to lie.

“Oh, well, hope you enjoy it.” Michael seemed a little suspicious, but just shrugged it off and walked back to his porch. After he turned away, I rushed into my house and ran up to my room, excited to begin. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for it to load, I looked out my window. I had a nice view of Michael’s house, but beyond that I could see the entire town.

Once I had finally logged into my computer, I began my project. First, I had plans to try and find dirt on him before publicizing it, but after hours spent on looking through countless websites, I found nothing. Then, after the original failure, it occured to me what I had to do. If I wanted to fix him, it had to be me in charge - I can’t trust him to change his ways. My next plan began to develop right before my eyes.

Over the next week after seeing Julian at tennis practice, I researched multiple different options. Body swapping, transformation, disappearance. After some heavy searching, I finally landed on genetic displacement. In this process, I would have to create some weird liquid concoction with strange ingredients that I’d never heard of before, combine it with some form of DNA from the intended victim, and then drink it. Then, over the course of a few minutes, the DNA from the victim would rapidly multiple and displace the DNA of the drinker, causing a genetic shuffle that would eventually change the entire body of the drinker and make them look like an identical copy of the victim permanently. I would look like his identical twin, but I’d still have my mind, personality, and soul. The directions were simple, but I just had to make sure I got everything right because the side effects looked insane. Stuff about brainwashing, amnesia, personality disorders, and other terms I couldn’t even pronounce threw me off, but as long as the victim and drinker were less than 2 years apart in age, everything would be fine. Luckily for me, Julian and I were born on the same day, which was another reason why I hated him.

The next three months rolled by. A few purchases of various items with strange names, rigorous searching to find them, and plenty of studying had lead to the last day. Luckily, my immense intellect made everything easier. For some reason, the ingredients always came a day or two late of the planned delivery, but that’s just the black market I guess. I had lurked in my room for hours on end, with the sun slowly descending through my window as I worked away. I really should have shut the shades to block out the light, but I never bothered too. I finally had everything ready by the last day of school, and all I had to do to finish the final part of my plan was to find a fresh piece of Julian’s DNA.

The last day of school was fast. I didn’t really pay attention to my finals or others; I was just too excited to finally finish my project, and the fact that everyone was celebrating Julian’s birthday instead of mine made it all the more unbearable. Finally, the end of the day came and students rushed out the doors. I calmly stayed behind, lurking a safe distance behind the tennis team. They had a short practice today, so this would be my only chance to snag something of Julian’s. As I saw the players casually hit the balls between courts, I snuck my way into the men’s locker room. After a minute of looking around, I finally found Julian’s rainbow sports bag. I dug my hand in, a little disgusted to be groping around another man’s dirty clothes, but eventually I found something. In the bottom of his bag was an old, white sock, obviously worn out from wear. It was pretty big in my hand, and - disgustedly - I brought it up to my nose for a timid sniff. I reeled back, getting a putrid scent of male foot and sweat, it was definitely fresh. As much as I hated to think about it, this nasty sock had enough DNA seeped into it for my concoction. I tossed it in my bag and ran home, sprinting the entire way, ecstatic that all my work was about to pay off.

After running between my room and the kitchen, I was finally ready to finish my project. Neither of my parents would be home tonight, so I had the house to myself.The sock and other ingredients sat all on the counter, ready to be mixed together. All I had to do was blend all of the components together without the DNA, and then pour it into a pot and boil it. After that, I’d throw the DNA in and (after letting it cool) drink it down, holding my nose shut of course. Then I’d find somewhere to sit and get comfortable, because apparently your body would freeze up until the transformation was finished. It took me a while to combine all of the ingredients together, and once it was mixed together it looked like a slushie without syrup. I ran over to the stove, ready to turn it on, but was met with a large sticky note on the dial.

“Oven broken?” I angrily read out loud, “No! How is this possible?” I quickly thought to myself how I could boil the concoction. I had to do this today, otherwise the DNA would become old. Sadly, only one idea came to my mind, but it was the only one I could think of.

“Jake!” Michael exclaimed, opening his door, “How can I help you?”

“Hey, Michael,” I smiled courteously, “I have a favor to ask.”

Michael led me into his house as I described that I was making a present for my mother’s upcoming birthday, but my stove wasn’t working. He graciously offered his and said that I could come by whenever to use it until mine was fixed.

“I have to go get something from the backyard, but if you need me I’ll be right upstairs afterwards.” He smiled as he opened the backdoor and left. I quickly fired up the stove and place the small pot a burner, happy that I’d finally finish. As I the concoction began to bubble, I realized something was missing: the sock! I carefully took the pot off of the burner and ran back to my house. As I sprinted past, I saw Michael walking back in, smiling as I dashed past. I burst through the front door and flew into the kitchen, grabbing the sock before running back. As soon as I got back to Michael’s kitchen, I pushed the pot back onto the heated burner and threw in the sock right as it began to boil. I stirred the liquid until I no longer felt anything solid in the liquid. Then, I took a cup from the cupboard, threw in some ice, and poured the soup-looking drink into the cup. The drink cooled down instantly, almost filling the cup.

“Here’s to 18!” I held my nose shut, said a quick prayer, and drank it all down in one go.

Once the drink was gone, I let out a huge belch. I quickly cleaned up the mess I had made in Michael’s kitchen and got ready to leave. I had to be fast enough to get to my house so I could transform in private. Right as I was about to walk out the door however, my conscience got the better of me. It would only take me a few seconds to thank Michael and then I could ditch. I dropped my things and walked upstairs, going towards the only room that had a light on. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly peed myself. Sitting right on the edge of the master bed was Michael, taking a picture of himself in the mirror, only wearing a tight, blue athletic shirt and a snug pair of underwear.

“Oh, you must be ready,” Michael said, taking note of my presence, “Do you like what you see?”

All I could do was keep staring at Michael, his body the perfect male specimen. For a man just under fifty, somehow he had maintained the body of an adonis. For some reason, I couldn’t look away, all I could do was stare.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Michael slowly walked over to me. I knew something was wrong, but for some reason I couldn’t move. The transformation must have just begun! He slowly stripped off all of my clothes as I stood there. As he slowly worked off my clothes, I could smell his natural musk emanating from his body. Once he was done, he lifted me up and placed me in a chair. Once he was done, Michael sat in one across from me, manspreading to show who was in charge.

“So, I expect you’re quite confused right now,” he said calmly, smirking, “but that’s alright, I will explain everything while you transform.”

My eyes widened. How did he know my plans? Did I make it obvious?

“First, let’s start with the fact that you should keep your blinds shut from prying neighbors, like me.” He motioned towards his own, which were shut, “After a week or two, I got curious as to why you were always up so late, so concentrated on your computer. Your lying is pretty pathetic, so I knew something was up, so I began to dig.”

As he spoke, my legs began to stretch out. My body was slowly pushed up into the chair as my calves pushed themselves apart. Muscle began to crawl across my legs as my thighs and quads became thick and strong, letting small veins pop out. My butt also plumped up, muscle filling in my rear and giving me two firm globes in the back. As my legs and butt finished strengthening, hair erupted all across the surface. It started out fairly blond, but then darkened to a more mature brown. I thought Julian had all blond hair, but I’ve only ever seen him from a distance so it must have just looked lighter.

“Next, I began to do a little investigation into what you might be doing. When the first package was being delivered, I caught the mailman and told him there had been a mistake and that the packages where supposed to go to me. After some heavy convincing, he finally obliged and all the packages went to my house before I dropped them off at yours.”

My chest began to bulge out, expanding tremendously. It too added to my height as abs began to pop into existence, creating a hard, cobblestone path from my belly button to my new pecs. As my pecs created their own shelf on top of my stomach, I felt my nipples perk up as they became slightly larger and more sensitive. Blond hair began to spread out over my torso, before it to darkened to the same brown as my legs. I had never seen Julian with this much hair, but he usually shaved. Plus, he barely every wore a shirt, so that was probably why his chest hair was blond - it must’ve been brown in the winter.

“After carefully opening the few boxes, I had quickly figured out what you were trying to do. Those items were very rare, so when you put them together in a search bar it only comes up with a few options. Once I figured out your plan, I had to figure out who your target was, and let me tell you that was difficult to find.”

As he continued, my arms began to fill out. Strong biceps began to appear as my triceps filled themselves in with muscle. Veins appeared on my forearms as my hands began to grow, becoming firmer and more calloused. Brown hairs also began to crawl along my arms as my armpits began to fill up, getting bushier by the second. I didn’t remember Julian having such hairy armpits, or the awful smell that was now emitting from them, but he must’ve always worn heavy deodorant.

“Once I figured out that you were targeting Julian Richardson, that’s when I decided to get involved. Originally, I was just curious to see what you were doing, but after that I knew I had to stop you. I began to read over the directions and ingredients again and I realized the only way I could tamper it was if I dealt with the DNA.”

My neck began to bulge as an enlarged Adam’s apple began to appear. I coughed a bit, causing my voice to adjust down a few registers. My voice began to also mature, sounding a little older. Although Julian looked much older, he still sounded like a teen with a life ahead of him, so this was strange to me.

“It took me a bit to figure out when you wanted to execute the plan, so when the last ingredient came in the mail a few days ago, I knew I could set you up for the last day of school. Not only would you be extremely excited with your plan about to be finished, but the natural adrenaline from the last day of your high school career would definitely kick in, having you lose focus.”

My head slowly lengthened out, becoming looking more ovular then circular. My jaw became more defined as my teeth straightened out. My nose grew straighter and smaller as a light stubble appeared, giving me a naturally wise look. I felt my hair shorten up and style itself. If I could have looked in a mirror, I could’ve seen my hair and eyes turn brown.

“So, this morning I went over and put a little note on your stove to say it was broken, and with you in your frantic state you never even tried to turn it on. I knew your only option to save your plan would be to ask me, and I kindly obliged. You only brought the pot with you, not even thinking about the DNA, so as soon as I walked outside, I ran over to your house - which you kindly left open - and looked for it. It took me a bit to figure out what I was looking for, but as soon as I saw the sock on the counter I knew what I had to do. I quickly pulled off my shoe, placed my sock in the exact same position as Julian’s, and then put my shoe on and walked out of the house. When you ran past me, I knew you’d be in for a surprise in a few minutes. With all the teenage adrenaline and excitement, you didn’t even notice that the sock was slightly yellower, or the different brand. The best part is, my feet are Size 16, so you didn’t even see that the sock was much larger than Julian’s Size 12.”

Michael held up Julian’s sock in front of my face, just close enough so I could smell it. He smirked as he saw my feet begin to lengthen out along the floor. My toes began to splay out further as my feet became meatier. Thick veins began to adorn the tops of my feet as dark hairs began to appear as well. Michael placed his foot on top of mine, and although I couldn’t move, I could see that looked almost identical, just with mine being younger.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said, before getting up and pulling his chair closer to mine. Once he sat down again, he carefully place his feet on either side of my sack, massaging it. I quickly grew hard.

“I knew that’d you’d have to come up here and thank me, you Christians and your conscience, so I quickly placed myself in a position that would stall you before your transformation begin. And here we are now, where it looks like we are near the end.”

Michael motioned to my pouch, which had expanded almost 4 inches as I had listened to him. I used to be average, but now I must have had almost ten inches of hard, veiny meat. Not only that, but a huge, wiry bush of brown hairs had replaced my previous non-existent ones. My balls were churning, the massage from the large feet making them much bigger and heavier. They looked almost identical to the outline from Michael’s underwear.

“So, now we’re here, I replaced Julian’s sock with mine, but there’s still one part I have mentioned yet. Remember the side effects and rules of this concoction? I bet you do.”

He smirked as my eyes quickly began to shake with panic.

“Now I am much farther than two years from you, so I did some further research into the side effects and it said that the drinker will end up somewhere in the middle, depending on the amount of DNA. The socks were dirty and rank, but it looks like it was not enough to put you into your thirties, but I’d say you’d look like me in my late twenties, so we’ll say your 28, 20 years apart from me so no one raises any questions. That's a good distance for me to be your father.”

I immediately got confused, and it wasn’t only from what he had just said. My mind had begun to feel cloudy ever since he began to massage my pouch. Maybe it was one of the side effects of the conco.... liquid.

“You see, ever since you started distancing yourself from me when you were little, I knew you were straying down the wrong path. You found out why I lived all alone in this house, and yet you would never admit it to yourself. You would never allow yourself to think I was possibly gay, that those trips I would take out of town weren’t work related, or those friends I had over were more than just friends. Well, now I’m going to raise you right. As soon as you release, you’ll black out from all the pent up pressure from me edging you and your transformation will be complete. Once your out, I’ll not only make sure you don’t remember any of this, but I’ll create a whole new life for you. The best part is, I barely have to do any work! With all the side effects of memory loss, personality confusion, and so much more, I can make you into whatever I want you to be. You won’t only be my son, but you’ll be my kinky, dumb lover.”

My pouch was throbbing, begging for release as Michael massaged them with his feet.

“Now on the count of three, you will release and pass out. Are you ready, Jake?”

I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t. My eyes must’ve shown so much fear, for Michael’s smirk suddenly got wider.

“Three.”

My mind clouded over as I felt my sack tighten.

“Two.”

My body tensed up, I could feel it coming.

“One.”

Michael stopped massaging and gripped my pouch with his feet. I released and then immediately blacked out.

——

I woke up to the sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. My head hurt, like I had just been studying too hard or something. I slowly pushed myself up and noticed a phone laying next to me. I clicked the home button and noticed there was a track playing. All it said was “Final Track.” I wondered what it was playing through, and then I realized I had the earbuds on. There were words and phrases playing on loop. I tried to concentrate, which was pretty hard, but eventually I could make out the words. It was some sort of conversation between jocks.

“Bro, let’s go suck a dick!”

“Yeah, being gay is sick, bruh!”

“And your dad, what a stud, broski, he’s so hot.

“I’d suck his dick any day.”

“He’s so smart too, lucky that you don’t have to do any of the thinking, bro!”

“Yeah, Broseph, you’re so dumb you have a below-average IQ.”

“What’s IQ, bro?”

And then the track ended with the jocks all guffawing at the joke. I chuckled, my deep voice mimicking their laugh. For some reason, I found it funny.

I rolled out of the bed, pushing the blue comforter back. I clomped my huge feet down the stairs towards the kitchen, my hard dick swaying with each step. I walked into the kitchen, where I saw my naked dad cooking food on the stove. His bubble butt swayed as I took a seat at the table, my own naked skin cold against the metal chair. I watched my dad cook, getting harder while I watched his muscled body sway. He slowly turned away from the stove, his dick just above the frying pan. He pissed right into the pan, making sure the bacon was extra greasy.

“Happy Birthday, Jordan,” Dad said as he dropped a plate full of bacon right in front of me, “How was your night?”

“Great!” I said, shoving the bacon eagerly down my throat. He came up behind me and patted my shoulders, his hard cock pushing against my back.

“What did you dream about?” He said, slowly beginning to grind against me.

“Well,” I began, “first it with me with my bro, Brad, and we were heading to town. Then, in came this cute twink who I destroyed, and then it ended with me smelling your shoes while jacking off.”

“A perfect ending to that dream it sounds like,” he said, slowly kissing my neck as he continued to grind. My back became slick with precum.

“Totally,” I shoved the rest of my bacon in my mouth and put my dishes in the sink.

“Where you going?” Dad asked, smacking my butt as I ran up the stairs.

“Got a soccer game in twenty minutes with the bros, it’s for my birthday!” I ran into my dad’s bedroom and looked through the dirty clothes hamper. I grabbed a sweaty gray tee, two black socks, and a pair of sweat shorts that smelled like piss and cum. I smiled, happy with my choice, not even bothering with underwear. Commando always accentuated my pouch better anyway. I ran down the stairs and grabbed my large vans. As a slipped my feet in, they were greeted with puddles of my dad’s piss. Back ten years ago, when I was still highschool, my dad would do this before every game for good luck. He knew I loved it so much that he kept the tradition even after I had dropped out. There was no way I was going to finish, all I’m good for is playing games with the bros and helping my dad whenever he needs it.

“Thanks, Dad.” I said, kissing him before I left.

“Of course, Jordan,” he replied, returning the kiss and grabbing my bulge, “and don’t forget this.” He handed me a fanny pack with the lunch he made me. I quickly looked inside and was happy to see one of his famous homemade protein shakes. He always made sure to make it with natural protein.

“Let me get a picture of you for your birthday.”

“Dad, I’m gonna be late.”

“Listen or I’ll spank you.” It wasn’t really a threat, he knew I’d like it, but I got the message. I crouched in front of our houseplants, showing off my junk.

“Sexier!” My dad said, I shuffled a little more and tried to look smug. He smiled as he took the picture.

“Here’s to 28!”

Hotel Korea: Chapter Four

--- Originally posted on 2019-12-27 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Degrading Investors

Lee Hae-jin slowed down to take a breath, hiking his leg up on the side of a modern statue. He quickly took a swig from his water bottle as he gathered himself, only slightly sweaty after running three kilometers. Usually long runs got him out of an angry mood, but the events of earlier that morning were still lingering about.

It had been a few weeks since the world-wide launch of KOREABOO, with the band becoming huge hit. There music was played almost everywhere, and with multiple Hotel Koreas in almost every country, the Korean population was steadily rising. Over half of Earth’s population was now identifying as Korean, with more converts coming in by the minute. Other races were slowly going extinct as the once dominating ethnicities became minorities. Although many people were coming under Lee’s control, the ones left were becoming annoying, especially two American investors: Theodore Charleston and Bradley Sullivan.

The two were famously known as the “Gateway to the North.” If they invested in you, North America would soon follow. Lee had already conquered the majority of Mexico (or Megsiko as the native Koreans renamed it), but he was struggling to get the United States and Canada to develop his properties. When he met with the power duo, they immediately turned him down with racist slurs. Lee kept in his bubbling anger, but was infuriated that they wouldn’t accept his incredible offer.

Regaining his stance, Lee began to figure out a revenge plan. Of course he had to make them join his side, but he didn’t know how. They wouldn’t listen to his music, and they’d never come near any of his hotels, so he had to find a way to get the Korean influence to them. As he ran back home, a flurry of ideas began to fill his head. Some dangerous, some extra safe. It took him a few minutes to find a plan that would really work, but he finally landed on something that no one would ever turn down.

— —

Theodore closed the door behind him as he walked into his penthouse. It was already late into the night, and he was ready to crash. A man in his late fifties, he was experienced to having absurd ideas proposed to him, but the young Korean lad from earlier that morning was still on his mind. It made no sense, just to open a hotel to spread Korean culture? It seemed to be spreading so fast in other parts of the world, so why would any American want it was his main point. Bradley had quickly agreed with him too, so it had only taken one loud shout of his deep, gruff voice to shut the kid up and kick him out.

Theodore slowly stripped himself of his business clothes, revealing his naked body before he trotted into the shower. His body had seen better days, when there wasn’t as much fat and gray hair and his head wasn’t bald. He silently took a steamy shower before wrapping a towel around his waist and finishing his nightly routine. He had a rough day ahead of him, so he had to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s sake.

As he brought himself over to a large mirror, he noticed a small package lying on his counter. It was decorated in a small green bow, with the box itself being the size of a box of tissues. Theodore grabbed it and began to open the package, not thinking twice about it. It was probably dropped off by one of his maids during the day, as they usually brought his mail in. It was peculiar that it was in the bathroom, but he was too tired to care.

With a small rip, the cardboard finally opened up to show its contents. Inside hid a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container that looked like shaving cream. Theodore signed as soon as he saw the small, Hangul letters on the side, believing the gift was from the Korean earlier that day. He let out a minuscule smile, thanking no one in particular as he grabbed the suitcase. He had run out of toothpaste a while ago, and had forgotten to buy some at multiple opportunities. He wasn’t ecstatic about the gift, but he was slightly thankful. He grabbed an electric toothbrush and, after washing it thoroughly, put on some of the blue cream and began to scrub.

As soon as the toothpaste entered his mouth, his eyes went wide at the appalling flavor. Instead of the traditional mint, he was blasted with the taste of salt. Theodore wanted to spit it out, but he was so desperate for a good brush. He reminded himself to tell a maid to go shopping. He rationalized with himself that it was probably some sort of vegan toothpaste that would do wonders to his health. He hated the taste, but he told himself he could make it.

While Theodore brushed away, he decided to take a seat on his toilet. He grabbed his phone from nearby and began to mess around, not really paying attention to reality. He positioned himself comfortably, not noticing that his legs were slowly spreading farther apart. His lower limbs, which were hidden underneath the towel, slowly pulled in, bringing his height down 175 centimeters. Theodore didn’t realize that his heels no longer touched the floor, and he couldn’t see how his leg and thigh hair retracted to give way to a miniature black forest. His quads and calves exploded with meat, taking away the fat and replacing it with hard muscles. A yellow color swept across Theodore’s legs as they finished firming into limbs strong enough to run many kilometers.

Theodore switched from his main messages to his mailbox, becoming more comfortable with the salty taste in his mouth. As he checked his emails, he didn’t notice his naked arms slowly begin to inflate. Years of gym-time began to flood into his veins, with pounds of beef creating biceps and triceps. His faded arm hair was swept away, with the tiniest of black follicles growing in their place. The hands that held the toothbrush and phone also inflated, becoming golden paws and his arms took a lemony tone. Theodore was so involved in his phone that he didn’t register his bulky arms and hands.

The intensity of Theodore’s brushing began to diminish. The goal before was the get rid of the toothpaste as soon as possible, but now he was beginning to barely enjoy it. While the brushing became softer, so did his buttocks, which plumped into two small balls filled with flesh. It slowly pushed Theodore up, until he was so uncomfortable that he simply got off the seat. Instead of questioning why his butt felt bigger, he instead switched over into his news app. The amber tone swept upward onto his chest, imploding the massive gut and creating a six pack of abs as solid as concrete. Chest hair quickly fell away as Theodore’s man boobs hardened, becoming two pectorals that felt similar to rock. His nipples slightly grew while his collarbone pushed out, more body fat pushing away to reveal widened shoulders. His large armpit bushes shrunk a little, becoming a stark black and creating a more pungent odor. Theodore still hadn’t noticed anything, with all of his interest in his phone.

Deciding that he should do something else, Theodo put down his phone to set up his bedroom, not realizing he was still subconsciously brushing his teeth. As he set up the atmosphere for his sleeping routine, he couldn’t feel the toothpaste coating the inside of his throat. The salty flavor began to etch away at his deep and powerful voice, disintegrating his large Adam’s apple. Theodo sputtered a little as it slowly sank, his register slipping up to that of a lower tenor. The golden color quickly traveled up as the rest of Theodo’s vocal chords adapted, switching from creating English consonants to Korean syllables.

Theo continued to prep his room, turning on ambiance music as white noise. He always played the same instrumental track, but what came on instead was soft K-pop. To focused with finishing, he didn’t even recognize the different music, or the new chestnut bangs that laid side swept across his forehead. As he continued brushing with the mildly pleasing toothpaste, his face began to re-align. His ears became bigger as his jawline shifted upward, creating a more masculine square. His nose and lips shrunk, while his eyes became more horizontal as they took on a brown hue. All signs of facial hair disappeared as his teeth became pearly white. Any signs of age were washed over by the lemony tone, as Theo now looked more like a 20-something in his prime.

Te strolled out of his bedroom, finished with his pre-bedtime procedures. As he walked around the apartment, his large feet began to slowly change. Originally a much larger man, Te’s feet were Size 14 US to support his stature. With each step, his toes pulled in as the hair shed away. Although they shrunk in length, his feet stayed fairly meaty, retaining definition as they became calloused. Small, black hairs delicately decorated the top of his feet, as a smell almost as powerful as his armpits began to emit. The yellow color painted itself on to Te’s delectable 260 mm feet as he stopped in front of his old storage room.

Having a rather large penthouse granted Te-su with extra space. He hadn’t been to his storage room in a while, but he swore it looked different than it previously had. He remembered old filing cabinets, desks, and boxes of worn out books. Now, it seemed to be a home gym, with workout equipment scattered all across the room. Workout clothes were also strewn about, reeking excessively, but as Te-su brushed more, the room seemed more familiar to him. As he became increasingly accustomed to his changing environment, his average dick began to inflate. At 6.5 inches, it wasn’t the worst size, but it obviously had room for improvement. While Te-su drifted around the room. His hard dick began to slowly sink in on itself. The large, unkempt bush shaved away to reveal the stubs of raven black pubes. His balls also sucked themselves back up, becoming the size of grapes.

Images of men began to flash through Te-su’s head as he became increasingly aroused. He grabbed his dick through the towel in one hand, while still brushing with the other, the taste of the toothpaste becoming more recognizable with each scrub. As Te-su began to jack himself off, he noticed a mirror on the other side of the room. Walking towards it, he was momentarily shocked to see the young Korean stud looking back at him. Theodore regained consciousness for a moment as the amber shade quickly conquered the 7 centimeter cock. Before Theodore could react, he ejaculated to the mirror image of himself, erasing himself from reality permanently.

Tae-sung blinked a few times before regaining sight. He had beat off a lot, especially to himself, but that time was more powerful than usual. He kept brushing, the taste of soy sauce lingering in his mouth deliciously. He was glad that he had gotten it as a gift from the guy he met at the gym. What was his name… Lee? Tae-sung couldn’t remember, as he was fairly dull, riding off of his inheritance rather than intelligence. He didn’t care though, he’d probably find that guy at the gym again tomorrow. Maybe his best bro would know… he’d call him up afterwards. First, he had to finish his brushing.

— —

Bradley entered his suburban mansion lethargically, barely able to push open the heavy double doors. It had been an excessively long day at work, with that young Korean kid pushing him to his limits. About the same as his associate, he was also getting too old to deal with stunts like that. It was people like that who brought him to become overweight, making him age much faster than others. For example, he was the only person he knew who had white hair before sixty, and that was counting what was left. That was only the beginning.

Stumbling in the dark, it took Bradley to find his way to his bedroom. As soon as he got there, he changed as much clothes as he could before falling onto the bed. He was only able to change into an old pair of blue sweatpants, too tired to even put on a shirt . He silently hoped that the next day wouldn’t be as long as the previous.

Waking up the next morning, Bradley could barely even move. He’d gotten a good amount of sleep, but he was still lacking any energy to move. After flopping around a few times on the mattress, he finally pushed his heavy body up and over to the bathroom. After taking a steady piss, Bradley began the process of cleaning himself for the day. Right as he was about to wash his hands, he noticed a small box with a green bow lying on the counter next to him. He hadn’t had any of his maids come in overnight, or the day before, so he didn’t know how it had gotten there. He also hadn’t received any alarms from his security systems. Too groggy to think straight, Bradley decided to open it. After a little game of tug of war, the package opened up. Bradley was surprised to see a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container. Picking up the two objects, he recognized the Hangul writing and connected to the Korean lad from the day before. He put down the toothpaste and observed the bottle more. After looking at it closer, he discovered it was shaving cream. He opened the cap and took a sniff. He was greeted by a very nutty scent, one that he wasn’t at all expecting. Bradley looked in the mirror at his snow-colored stubble, deciding it was probably a good idea to shave.

Bradley grabbed a washcloth and turned on the shower head, just enough to drizzle. As soon as it was wet, he rubbed it on his face to make sure it was saturated. Next, he applied the shaving cream, watching the soapy bubbles create an even bigger white beard across his jawline. The nutty smell was becoming even more intense, making Bradley a little dizzy. He also noted a hint of muskiness, like something he’d smell in a locker room. He would have to check what scent this was afterwards, as he had no idea what he was supposed to be smelling.

As Bradley took the first stroke, the white hair bounced off his stomach and fell to the ground below him. He’d have to brush it up later with a broom, which didn’t really excite him. What he didn’t notice were how his legs were slowly bulking up inside of the sweatpants. Each breath Bradley took of the shaving cream added a little more muscle to his legs. His quads began to bloat, becoming massive with meat as they strained the sweatpants. His calves also expanded, becoming thick and firm for intense workouts. As the golden tan swept over his legs, Bradley lost all hair and some height, moving down to 170 centimeters.

Bradley scraped off the next stripe, with the hair falling down to the ground in small clumps. It passed the arms, which began to pump up with muscle slowly. Bradley didn’t recognize this however, as he was to busy shaving. His yellowing arms quickly created gigantic biceps and triceps, blowing up his arms to epic proportions. Thick veins appeared across his forearms as his arm hair disappeared, only to be replaced with tiny, stark follicles of black hair. His palms grew, becoming meaty.

The third stripe of hair came off, with more white falling to the floor. The soap didn’t stick to the razor, but instead to the clump, creating a bubbly mess at Bradley’s feet. The intense nutty smell ingrained itself into his face, familiarizing itself. While Bradley continued to shave, his massive gut began to suck in. The fat disappeared in a few moments, with the facial hair now falling straight to the ground. After the creation of an eight-pack of solid abs, his shoulders widened out and his collar bone popped out. As the amber tone washed over his entire torso, Bradley’s nipples grew to match his growing pectorals, both become hard and large. Finally, his armpit hair retracted all the way, only leaving a small black stubble that would never grow. Although the patches were small, the rancid scent that began to emit from them was very noticeable, yet Bradley was still concentrating on shaving.

With a little more than half of his face shaved, Brady deducted it would be a good time to wash some of the soap off his face. He had actually begun to enjoy the smell of the shaving cream. He’d also have to clean up the mess on the floor pretty soon, as it now looked like he was wearing a pair of bubbly hair slippers. As he grabbed for the washcloth, the lemony wave swept across his neck, pushing in his larynx barely. His passive bass tone lightened to a baritone. His vocal box also rearranged, no longer needed for a Romance language.

Grabbing the washcloth, Brad realized that it had gone dry. He grabbed the knob to turn on the shower head again, but accidentally turned it to hard. Before Brad could correct his mistake, a spurt of cold water poured over his head. He yelped as he was momentarily soaked. It felt like his entire head was a clump of messy, wet white hair. He slowly stood up, immediately noticing that he had sprayed water all over the mirror too. At least he hadn’t gotten his thick, dark brown bangs drenched. As he wiped off the leftover soap bubbles from the first half of his face, his jaw keenly realigned itself. Square points began to just out as his eyes became brown and narrow. His nose shrunk barely as his lips jutted out just barely. Any signs of age disappeared as Brad now looked no older than 25. To top everything off, his whole head was covered in a golden color.

Removing the last bits of facial hair from his face, Ba began to wash away the mess from his feet. As he pushed the mess of hair and bubbles away, which was magically disappearing with each swipe, his feet dwindled in size. Originally at a Size 12 US, it didn’t take much to make them shrink down. As they became more compact, small veins appeared to amplify the increasing muscularity. His toes became small stubs as a foul funk sourly filled the room. As Ba removed the last of the bubbles, he revealed a beautiful pair of 245 mm lemony feet.

As Bo stood back up, he suddenly felt his cock becoming extremely aroused, the smell of the shaving cream driving him wild. The monster quickly inflated to 9 inches, a rough gem hidden by a previously hideous body. As the amber tone began to spread to his cock, it began to slowly descend inwards, opposite to his expanding butt cheeks. The previous flat back began to push out, creating two meaty, massive globes that were both tanned perfectly, filling out the back end of the sweatpants expertly.

While the buttocks finished pushing out, Bo felt another wave of euphoria cascade over him. He quickly grabbed his cock, taking long strokes to truly work himself up. As time past, he fondling became faster. It wasn’t because he was becoming more elated, but instead because his dick was shrinking. The massive sausage was settling into much, much smaller. His bush and balls did the same, and they decreased to just a quarter of their previous sizes and they turned black and yellow respectively. Bo looked in the mirror as flashes of sucking and receiving cock flashed through his head, with Bradley returning for a just a moment to see his life disappear. He was about to gasp, about to stop the process, but his lemony 5 centimeter cock thought otherwise, for it was so sensitive that it burst immediately, blowing all of Bradley out with it.

Bo-gum’s eyes refocused to the mirror in front of him, the load of sperm beginning to dry in his underwear and pants. Immediately, the smell of his sesame oil shaving cream hit him full on, the smell reminding him of Korea. That guy from the gym really knew what to get him, yet Bo-gum couldn’t remember his name. He knew his first name was Hae-jin, but what was his surname? Sometimes Bo-gum was so dumb, he was such a meathead. The only reason he was rich was because of his inheritance not at all due to his smarts, or lack thereof. Maybe his best bro would know, he’d have to text him.

Looking back in the mirror, Bo-gum noticed a small patch of black facial hair that he had missed. He quickly shaved the spot and put the razor, not to be touched again until his next semi-annual shave.

— —

From his office, Lee Hae-jin smiled with pride at the success of his revenge. By simply mixing simple ointments with his own semun, he was able to create two Korean studs out of the rude Americans. It was also smart of him to mask the scent by mixing in soy sauce and sesame oil, two traditional Korean spices.

By eliminating the “Gateway to the North,” Lee now had free reign over the entire Earth. At the gym later that day, he could easily convince the now dimwitted Cho Tae-sung and Seong Bo-gum to become his main investing partners. With over half of the world conquered, it was only so long before everyone would encounter “A Seoul-changing Experience.” Everyone would be Korean, and more importantly, under Lee Hae-jin’s control.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three

--- Originally posted on 2019-11-18 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Ignorant Passersby

Lee Hae-Jin looked at his watch anxiously, his bicep unintentionally flexing as he did. His workout gear stretched over his tight body as the seconds ticked away, counting down slowly. It had been almost a month since the first Hotel Korea had opened, and nearly a hundred more had been built since then, with even more being proposed in other cities. Lee’s idea had been a huge success, with more and more of the world’s population becoming Korean, but he still had more work to do.

One of his newest ideas for faster conversion was about to launch, and he had no idea how successful it would be. Lee had made sure that if it faltered, only he would be able to notice. Not everyone stayed at a hotel, so he had to find a way to change the everyday civilians. As the last second clicked away, his plan came to life. Lee looked out the window, hoping to see some sort of changes. His anxiousness quickly turned to glee.

— —

“I’ll be back in a second, bro!” Chandler said as he stomped his way to the restroom. He was lifting weights with another guy from his fraternity, Nathan, but had suddenly felt an urge to take a piss. Nathan waved him off as he ran into the men’s locker room. He looked in the mirror and was greeted by a fairly built white male, his blond hair slicked back with sweat. Although his face looked red, his Under Armour wife beater looked rather dry. Chandler grabbed his phone from his gym shorts and took a mirror selfie, the white wall behind him accenting his tanned skin.

Suddenly, Chandler felt a stirring in his bladder, a reminder to why he had come here in the first place. He rushed to a urinal and took out a heavy dick, one that was almost 6 inches and still soft. He began to piss and looked up towards posters on the wall, mindlessly reading about some concert from an unheard American band. He smirked, believing the Top 40 playlist he was listening to was much better.

As Chandler pissed away, he began to hear music playing through the vents. He focused his hearing in on the music and, after a few moments of thinking, determined that it wasn’t in English. He quickly figured out it was some K-pop boy band. It wasn’t his kind of music, or the gym’s for that matter, but he assumed there must have been some big party from the new Korean hotel down the street.

Chandler focused back on the posters, reading about the new boy band that was touring all the way from Korea. He suddenly became overjoyed as he remembered that they were his favorite band. As he finished, he tucked a smaller, yellow cock back into his gym shorts and walked back into the main area of the locker room. Each step he took slowly brought him lower until the 6’2 male was only about 175 centimeters. His arms and legs inflated and he suddenly rushed back into the stall, his dick now wanting to do more than just piss in the bathroom.

Chandler quickly closed the stall door behind him and sat on the ridge of the toilet, taking out his much smaller dick. Chandler didn’t notice the difference in length as he got hard, his cock much shorter than what it used to be hard. He moaned as he began to stroke, his once rough hands becoming small and soft with a lemony sheen. As he edged, his pecs began to fill out more, his pre-defined abs sharpening. He groaned as his shrunken balls began to churn, his hair growing out into black bangs on his head.

“신 이시여!” Chung-Hee shouted as he burst a load in the stall, the white cum sticking out on the black wall. He cleaned himself and walked out, his small, yellow feet moving quickly across the floor. He walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror, the K-pop still playing from the vents overhead and in his earbud. Chung-Hee was glad that Nam-Kyu had convinced him to come to the local Korean gym today. He was a little timid that it wasn’t going to be authentic, but the place seemed to be as if it had come straight out of his own South Korea itself. He smirked as he walked up to the mirror, his sexy Korean body looked incredible against the black wall. He brought up his phone and took a mirror selfie, making sure to hold a straight face. He was looking as 멋진 ever. He sent the picture to his boyfriend before running back into the gym.

— —

Officer Charleston sat in his car, surveying the land around him for any sort of disturbance. Right across the street from him was the Hotel Korea, a newer building that had been the center of multiple documented disappearances, as well as numerous other complaints. He had been dispatched there to see if there was any reason the department should be concerned, but as he lazily ate a bag of potato chips that rested on his large stomach, he couldn’t find anything that seemed out of place.

Officer Charleston watched strangers as he sat there, his floating eyes hiding behind a thick pair of sunglasses. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just lots of random people around the busy street. He noticed the large Korean population that seemed to be spilling out of the hotel across the street, but he assumed that what the typical crowd for a chain targeted at a certain population. Officer Charleston scratched his bushy beard and placed the bag of chips next to him. He lined his large foot up to the brake and started the car.

Right as the car spurred to life, a blast of music began pounding from the building. Officer Charleston twitched from the sheer volume before turning off his car–this was obviously some sort of noise disturbance. He opened his door and shuffled out of the car, his large frame struggling slightly. The policeman strolled to a crosswalk and waited patiently, not realizing that as he stood there his foot tapped to the beat. He also didn’t realize that he was translating the Korean in his own head, beginning to understand every word.

A stoplight flashed red and the officer crossed with his fellow pedestrians. Each step brought the policeman closer to the earth, until he was barely 172 centimeters tall. His torso began to shrink as his stomach fell in on itself, the skin turning to a soft golden. His arms and legs plumped with definition, years of age being replaced with pounds of muscle. His shorter calves and forearms became solid as he made it to the other side of the street.

The policeman hummed along to the music as his thighs expanded inside of his pants. His hands became smaller as he adjusted his name badge, his name switching from the English phonetic system to Hangul. His feet also shrunk, now being able to slip comfortably into a pair of 250 mm boots.The yellowly tone overtook the rest of the officer’s body as his hair magically began to shed, all of it disappearing from the neck below. Even his beard fell away, revealing a sturdy jaw and the most flawless skin.

As a brown bob began to grow out on his head, the officer suddenly felt a sharp pain in his crotch. He rushed out to the side of the hotel behind a dumpster, pulling down pants to reveal a stubby, lemony cock begging for attention. He grabbed his cock and stroked it carefully, his whole hand not entirely fitting. He moaned quietly, its pitch rising as his Adam’s apple sunk in. He felt his balls tremble as he took in a harsh breath.

“커밍 해요!” Security Guard Choi howled as a small load poured into his hand. He sighed before wiping it on the side of his uniform. He was glad that he was able to sneak a session in during his shift at the Hotel Korea. They were fairly lenient on breaks, but sometimes a Korean man in his youth had to get in some extra time. The watchman turned the corner back around to the front of the building and noticed a car was abnormally parked on the street. It probably was just an accident, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect at the hotel. He strode over confidently: there was nothing a fine, young Korean like himself couldn’t deal with.

— —

John just needed a break. He wasn’t supposed to have his kid for the day, but his ex dropped him off a few days early. John hadn’t been able to take off work, so now he had to drag the 9-year-old around with him everywhere he went. It was completely agonizing. As they walked downtown, the kid had to see everything, point at everything, want everything. It was the worst when they passed the new hotel a few buildings back; there was way too much to look at. John eventually gave up, telling him to sit down outside and wait as he went into a brewery to get a drink. He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he was about to explode.

John quickly ordered a strong scotch and took a seat. Getting closer to 50 everyday, he still couldn’t believe that he had a child so young. Wasn’t his sperm supposed to stop working at one point? The kid had put so much stress on his body, helping him gain weight and lose hair. The balding man sat there quietly as a glass was carefully placed in front of him. He grumbled before grabbing it, knowing he’d have to chug it. Why couldn’t the kid just grow up?

He grabbed the glass right as new song began. It wasn’t coming from the brewery, but instead from a distance away. John didn’t notice it at first, but he slowly began subconsciously focusing more and more on the music. It wasn’t in English, but John could feel himself slowly get more and more involved in the music. His gulping turned to sipping as he started fully investing his attention in the boy-band music.

As John casually drank his whiskey, he didn’t notice his clothes slowly becoming looser on his frame. His stomach was coated in a light tan as pounds shed themselves away, the hair falling with them. While abs and pecs appeared on his frame, round biceps and triceps also began to pop up around his thickening arms. While his body became more muscular, years of age began to disappear. His shoulders and hips were coated in a lemony shade as they widened and shrunk respectively.

As more of the beer disappeared from the cup, so did John’s height. He slowly diminished in his chair, losing 16 centimeters to his height. Although his legs had contracted, his thighs and quads had become enormous. His calves had also becoming thicker, but they had lost their body hair along with the rest of John’s body. The only hair that grew in was on his head, which now was a soft, full stark-black part. John’s feet compressed as the rest of the golden shade covered his body.

Putting his root beer glass down, John began palming his groin. It had become increasingly agitated as time went on. John knew he was in public, but he had to relieve his dick right now. He dug his hands into his pants and began furiously stroking; his cock became more sensitive from its decreasing length. Suddenly, John felt his pouch scrunch up in his hands, ready for action.

“달콤한 방출!” Joon-ho squealed in a high tone as a small wet patch appeared on the front of his shirt. Joon-ho groaned in delight as he resituated himself in the chair. He picked up the Korean coffee and took a sip, smiling at its deliciousness. He knew it was dumb to come to a brewery and not get alcohol, but he didn’t care for it that much. He was still basically a kid in his early twenties, so it never appealed to him.

Speaking of feeling like a kid, he had to go find his boyfriend. He didn’t have a daddy kink, but it was clear who was in charge and who wasn’t between the two of them. Before he’d run off to find his boyfriend, he’d have to finish off this drink first.

— —

Timothy hated the hotel that had opened near his apartment. He had been living there for almost ten years, and all that time he had assumed that nothing would ever be built in the hideous lot a little less than a block away. Then, out of nowhere, a giant hotel was built, with people flowing in and out everyday. The strange thing though, Timothy noticed that people of every size, race, and age went into the hotel, but only young, attractive Koreans came out. The 40-year-old man could sense something was wrong.

Luckily for Timothy, he had just come home from work early, his boss feeling extra kind today. He rushed home and ran upstairs to his bathroom to take a hot, long bath. He prepared all the materials necessary before stripping his suit down slowly, his furry chest and legs becoming exposed to the world. Timothy knew he wasn’t the most attractive of people, with his beer gut and clunky height, but at least was fairly average. Once he was naked, the middle-aged man got into the tub, laying down so his feet stuck out the other side. Timothy rubbed a wet hand onto his head, the short, graying hair meeting him. He laid there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Timothy’s eyes jerked open as he began to hear music bouncing around his bathroom walls. He focused his ears to figure out that it was coming from the hotel, realizing it was in some kind of Asian language. At first, he was completely annoyed, but as he listened to it more, he began to like it. What the boys were singing about became enticing to him, relaxing him once more into the tub before he fell asleep.

Tae-won squinted as he woke up, his nap being a little longer than intended. He slowly pulled himself up, his small body wholely underwater. He looked over his lemony, muscled body, his proudest features all displayed finely under the bubbles. He looked over himself as he felt his small cock rise, with the absence of hair making it look even more miniscule. In fact, Tae-won was completely hairless from the armpits down–and he completely loved it.

Tae-won brought a small hand to his dick, carefully bringing it to full mast with three fingers. He whimpered as he jerked away, his cock sensitive. The boy band played in the background as he kept pushing, his short but powerful legs scrunching up to his defined torso. Tae-won pushed his brown locks to the side as he began to stroke faster. As he got to the edge, he felt his balls scrunch up to push out a load.

“여기 온다!” Tae-won yelled as his shot a miniscule load into the tub. Once he took a few deep breaths, he regained himself and slowly got out of the tub. He grabbed his red jockstrap and tight shorts, placing both on as he dried himself off. Tae-won restyled his hair into the classic chestnut bob before running downstairs. He picked up his phone and saw that he had a little less than an hour before he began his shift at the Hotel Korea. He also noticed that he had received a text from his boyfriend a few minutes ago. He opened the message, finding a picture of the other incredibly attractive Korean at the gym. Tae-won smiled, noticing his boyfriend was wearing one of the wife beaters he had given him at their last anniversary.

“Looking good, Chung-Hee,” Tae-won muttered in Korean, responding back to the picture. He guided himself back to the staircase, his tight, yellowy abs glistened under the sunlight from a nearby window. He pulled up his phone and brought it to the mirror, going from the same straight face that his partner had. His lemony features looked delicious after his long wash. He shot the picture and sent it to his boyfriend before running back upstairs to his room to get his uniform on. He had a long shift ahead of him, but, luckily for him, he loved his workplace.

— —

Milo had been waiting for his friend for almost an hour. He was parked outside of his hotel, the new one that had just opened, and he still hadn’t gotten any word from Kayler. He should’ve been worried, but for as long as he could remember, Kayler was never really one to be prompt; however, this was getting absurd.

Both Kayler and Milo had been friends since kindergarten, and the two of them would graduate in a few months from the highschool a little ways out of the city. Kayler was at the hotel for an assignment, one in which the student would observe a different culture. Of course, the Hotel Korea was the perfect choice, but Milo hadn’t heard any word from Kayler. He was supposed to pick him up after three days at the front door, but as Milo fiddled with his large shirt over his lithe body, no one ever approached his car.

Out of the blue, loud music exploded from the building Milo was parked in front of. Milo ducked for cover, taking a few moments to realize that it was not some sort of explosion, but instead K-pop. Milo didn’t know what to think of it at first, but what the boy band was singing about was strangely alluring. Milo concentrated on the noise, grooming his bright red hair as he followed along. The longer he listened to it, the more he began to enjoy it.

As the song started its first refrain, Milo hadn’t noticed how his feet were no longer tapping the brake pedal. He subconsciously pulled his chair a few inches forward as his shirt began to fill out. The once loose shirt began to tighten around the pecs and abs that were popping up by the beat. His once miniscule arms bloated, becoming muscular and dense. His calves and thighs also expanded while an amber color began to blotch out the pale white.

By the second refrain, Milo’s shirt was now strained, his large torso and biceps making it seem like the seams would rip any moment. Milo’s pants were also threatening to tear, with a large bubble butt and tree-trunk legs pushing at the silky boundaries. Hair dwindled away all around Milo’s body except for on his head, which shortened into a black sports cut. A few years packed onto to Milo as he shifted into his early twenties, while his feet shrunk into a softer size of 245 mm.

As the rest of the golden tan covered his body, Milo grabbed his average size cock and began to stroke. It got hard instantly, but didn’t lengthen at all. His hard length was now the same as what he was as soft previously. Milo didn’t notice however, for he was too focused on how incredible the bridge of the song was. As the last refrain came around the corner, Milo felt his testicles tense quickly.

“너무 좋아!” Min-kyu cried as a spray of white cum covered his shirt. He sat there for a second, breathing irregularly before regaining consciousness. He hadn’t even realized he had an audience at the passenger door.

“여보세요?” The stranger asked, causing Min-kyu to jump. He turned to the window to see his boyfriend standing at the window, still on his shift as a security guard at the hotel.

“Choissi, you scared me!” Min-kyu said in Korean as the watchman entered the car.

“Well, I didn’t know I was late to the party,” he replied back before leaning over for a kiss. As the two embraced, Min-kyu suddenly felt a buzzing in his pocket. He took out his phone to see that he had a text from his friend Kun-woo. He put his phone down and continued with the security guard. If Min-kyu had waited this long, Kun-woo could too.

— —

Gunnar sat on the uncomfortable chair extremely bored. He couldn’t believe that his lousy father had just left him at the front of a furniture store while he went off to get a drink. He didn’t even like his father. The two never connected because Gunnar had spent most of his time with his mom. They never really spent time together, and when they did, it was just awkward and always ended in some sort of argument. It was like he wasn’t even related to the man, but he knew that he had to try to stay friendly.

Gunnar brought a small bag into his lap, looking through all the things that his father did let him get. It wasn’t much, the reusable bag was just as ordinary as they things they had purchased. There were some water bottles, gloves, and a new game for his console back at his other home, but otherwise the day had proved uneventful. His father wouldn’t let him go into any of the buildings he wanted to see, especially the new hotel that had just opened down the street. Gunnar took out the water bottle to take a drink, not knowing what else to do.

Without warning, music began blasting from down the street. Gunnar choked for a second on the water he had just opened, surprised. He took the plastic bottle out of his mouth and looked towards the hotel. He could almost see the soundwaves emitting from the building, the K-pop becoming strangely alluring.

Gunnar brought the juice bottle back to his mouth, beginning to enjoy the music as it played on. As he drank, his legs began to extend themselves, the new meaty thighs and calves pushing him to a staggering 178 centimeters. Gunnar subconsciously began to manspread as his body became wider, his torso filling in with strong abs and pecs. An amber tone flooded his pale skin while his eyes became a deep brown.

While Gunnar continued guzzling pop from the bottle, his arms and shoulders began to fill out. Years of time in the gym became evident as pounds of meat were added to the boys frame. Veins became visible while his hand became round and hard, the results of numerous callouses. His expanding quads caused his shorts to pull up, now looking more like short-shorts than their previous knee-length.

As Gunnar topped off the beer bottle, he began to feel a rumbling in his balls. He had no idea what was happening, but something was telling him in the back of his mind that he should stroke his small cock. He grabbed it, and, with a sudden feeling of elation, began pumping furiously. As he did, he didn’t notice his grunts slowly becoming deeper, or how he now had to blow black bangs out of his face. Right as the yellow color covered the last of the pale skin, Gunnar felt a final push in his groin.

“달콤한 서울!” Gun-woo grunted as his jizz landed on his Corona shirt. He quickly rubbed it in before grabbing the matching bag and looking through it for a back-up outfit. All he had was an empty glass bottle, a beer koozie, and a Korean porn film for his date tonight. His date! He had completely forgotten about it, and where his partner had walked off to.

As if on cue, his boyfriend walked out of a nearby coffee shop. A grin plastered itself on Gun-woo’s face.

You look adorable, boy,” Gun-woo remarked in Korean as his boyfriend walked over.

“You aren’t too bad either, old man,” the man replied back.

“Joon-ho, you know I’m only five years older than you,” Gun-woo snarked.

“You’re talent in bed says otherwise.” Joon-ho replied, licking his lips. Gun-woo smirked as he got up to leave with his boyfriend, knowing he had a fun night ahead of him.

— —

Lee Hae-jin sat at his desk, the new information charts flooding in from every other Hotel Korea. His plan had been a huge success, as apparent by the massive spikes of local Korean populations in each location. The music was an easy choice for conversion while still being untrackable, but the problem was how he would transfer the Korean genetic code through the melodies. He had to write a song that would transform its listeners.

After tedious research, he finally came to an idea: Don’t create music, create a band. He designed his own K-pop boy band, which he cleverly named KOREABOO. They would seem like any other boy band from South Korea, but they’d only produce Lee’s music. Their voices would make the melodies that would become hypnotic to new listeners. Their words would help produce the new Korean population faster.

Lee closed the laptop and chuckled to himself. It would only be so long before the entire world would be Korean, and, more importantly, under his control.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Two

--- Originally posted on 2019-08-16 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Feuding Twins

Lee Hae-jin squatted down in the hotel’s skate park, proudly observing the progress of his hotel. It had been a little over two weeks since the grand opening and already three more hotels had been approved by different cities, with almost twenty more being proposed. Lee wasn’t at all surprised, he knew his plan was going to work. Even if the individual governments didn’t necessarily see his point of view, they would eventually.

Lee’s casual look had suited him well. He was gaining lots of honest opinions about the hotel, as no one expected him to be the leader of the entire operation. Of course, everyone had the same opinion, agreeing that it truly was “A Seoul-changing Experience.” As he adjusted his ample manhood through his barely-covering shorts, he overheard two young boys fighting. Lee got up and slowly inched towards the conversation. He stood near a tree, listening in on what seemed like two middle schoolers fighting. “I can’t believe I beat you! AGAIN!”

“You cheated! Plus, that card game is way too easy.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m always the winner.”

“But it’s our 13th birthday - you can’t cheat!”

“I still won, and I won Bella’s heart, so anythi-”

“I hate being in the same room with you, you twit!”

“Shut up!”

“No you!”

Before the two could get too riled up, Lee swooped out from behind the tree and made his way between the two boys. Both of them looked fairly similar: blond hair, small stature, lanky bodies. Their pale skin was only heightened by their bright colored swimsuits, with the older wearing black and red and the younger adorning a neon yellow.

“So, I hear we have a winner back here?” Lee said in perfectly fluent English.

“Yes!” said one, stepping forward proudly. He was obviously the older of the two twins, being that he was taller and puberty was gracing him faster.

“Wait!” the second sneered, taking the first back and whispering into his ear, “He’s a stranger…

“Well, in that case, let me introduce myself,” Lee replied, surprising the two boys once again, “My name is Lee, I own the Hotel Korea.” The two boys stood back in awe. Lee, knowing that he held all the cards now, continued.

“I think the proud winner should earn a little prize,” he began, ushering the older one over. His black swim shirt gleamed in the sun against his bright, red trunks. He was obviously the superior of the two.

“For your amazing achievements in…”

“Sorcery,” the older twin stated, obviously a nerdy game.

“Sorcery,” Lee reinstated, “I’ll give you this free, underwater, disposable camera specially made by my company back in South Korea.” Lee took out a large device and put his thumb on a small circle, activating the prize, and then handed it to the older boy. The camera looked more like a tablet with a very bulky case. Before the twin could get too excited, Lee continued.

“Congratulations…”

“Seth Dawson-Kissel,” the older twin added, “and this is my twin, Hayden.”

“Now,” Lee resumed, “Hayden, although you lost, I believe you both also deserve a prize for your outstanding participation. I’m giving both of you access to one of my private spas.”

The two brothers’ eyes widened with glee, both about to scream with joy. After giving them a moment, Lee kindly asked them for their room keys. Lee quickly took out a different device and scanned over the two cards, resetting them. He was going to give them access to a private spa, but he was placing them in different rooms. After their time in the spa, they’d have a much different relationship then brothers. Once he’d had completed the reassignment, he gave back the keys and told the boys were two go. They quickly ran off, not even turning to thank the smirking man as they left.

— —

As soon as the two hadn’t gotten in the spa room, they jumped into action. The small area composed of a miniature pool, a stone stove, and plenty of spa chairs to relax in. They also had an incredible view of the city sprawled out below them. There was one other person there, a young, Korean man who was acting as their lifeguard. He barely spoke an English, but the two boys were too enthralled in the room to care. Seth, the older twin and victor, had decided to grab a giant pizza float and relax in the warm water. Unlike Seth, Hayden, the younger twin and loser, placed his sunglasses and towel in a neat pile before bathing in the sunlight coming from the windows on a spa bed. Hayden threw his towel on the ground next to him, but decided to keep his white tee on. He didn’t feel as confident in the presence of the strangely attractive Korean. He didn’t like guys, but he could tell he was very good-looking.

As the two began to relax, the Korean began to mix his hands into some scented oils before pouring them into the pool water. He made sure that all of the lubricants were touched by his hands, that way the entire pool would be under his own activation. He only had to work on the older twin, for Seth was already going to unconsciously work on the younger. The attendant had remembered what Lee had ordered: the attendant and the camera would have to work together to create a “trait switch.” The cheater was going to get what he deserved. The attendant quietly poured the scented oils into the pool with neither of the twins noticing.

While Hayden relaxed in a chair with his eyes closed, Seth began to play with the camera. With nothing else to take a picture of, he sneakily brought the lens towards his younger twin and took a picture. Once it had finished loading, he was surprised to see the quality of the photo. It actually looked really good, as if it was professional. As he investigated the picture, a small blurb showed up on the screen, asking if he’d like to apply a filter. Curiously, Seth accepted and watched as the picture transformed, giving his younger twin longer, stronger, and tanner legs. He giggled to himself quietly, excited to see more.

Still sitting silently, Hayden hadn’t realized that his twin had taken a picture of him, or that his lower limbs were changing. His legs began to push out. He wasn’t that tall before, being at about 5’4, but he was now reaching about 5’6. His thighs began to blossom, growing muscular quads as his calves strengthened. His once-knee length trunks were now halfway up his thighs, showcasing the meat hidden beneath. The beginnings of blond leg hair disappeared as a barely-visible, yet solid layer of black began to emerge with a yellowish tan coating his limbs. Hayden’s young legs also began to mature a bit, still retaining a younger look but having the meat of a man in his mid-twenties.

With Seth so focused on his new camera, he hadn’t noticed any changes about his own body. He hadn’t felt his legs stretching a little less than Hayden’s, bringing him from 5’4 to 5’5. He also couldn’t tell how his legs to had grown with maturity, hard muscle stacking up on his thickening thighs and strengthening calves. He didn’t notice how the blond hair had disappeared, keeping his legs hairless as they took on a more amber tone. Even when he took his eyes out of the camera to adjust his position, he didn’t recognize how his lower body had changed. He had always been shorter than his younger twin, it wasn’t anything new to him.

Seth took another picture, and this time the leg filter was already applied to his brother. Once he investigated the picture again, another filter suggestion popped up. Seth quickly clicked it, giving his younger brother stronger and larger arms.

Hayden, still calm in the chair, adjust his shoulders as his arms began to expand. He swiftly removed his shirt, not registering his changing body. As he went back to his relaxed state, his arms continued to bloat. Strong biceps and triceps appeared as the limbs lengthened, becoming stronger. Hayden was pretty much hairless on his arms before, but now he adorned miniature black fibers. As his muscles finished firming up, his hands matured, becoming meatier and harder. Memories of lifting and working out began to flood his head, teaching him how to maintain his strong and powerful appendages. A lemony shade enveloped his limbs while two, thick bushes of wiry, black hair filled in his pits. A subtle, yet putrid scent began to emit from Hayden’s pit, yet he was in such a lazy scent that he didn’t notice, or care.

Seth, fascinated by his camera, hadn’t felt his swim shirt expanding. His biceps and triceps were also growing, along with his arms lengthening, yet not as much as his brother’s. As Seth’s arms grew toned, he remembered that he always wanted to say right between the line of fit and athletic, while his younger brother always chose the route of muscular. His hands expanded, but also became a little more delicate as he remembered all of the times he would barely break a sweat in the gym. As Seth brought the camera back towards his face, his arms took on a yellower tone. His armpits lost all traces of hair ever being there, they were to remain hairless forever.

Seth shot the next photo, and, without thinking, clicked to add the filter. This time, he saw his cousin’s chest expand, looking more like a man’s torso instead of a boy’s.

As Hayden basked in the sunlight, his chest began to broaden. Years of working out began to show as two solid, firm pecs began to appear. A light six pack also emerged as memories of skipping class to go to the gym flooded Hayden’s brain. Muscles filled in what used to be the remainders of baby fat as Hayden’s shoulders widened, giving him a more visible collarbone. His larger torso gave him a little more height, pushing him from 5’6 to about 172 centimeters, just above (Korean) average. His nipples perked up as the golden color darkened his previous pale skin. His chest became completely hairless, never to have any coat grow there. As his chest finished, Hayden’s intelligence slowly began to drop.

With Seth still sitting on the pizza float, absorbed with his prize, he hadn’t realized how his swim shirt was suddenly becoming a little tight. Before, it was quite loose on his lithe body, but now, as his muscles began to perk up, the shirt began to hug him tightly. As his torso broadened, his height didn’t increase, leaving him at about 166 centimeters, shorter than his cousin. As his larger nipples began to harden, he remembered that his shirt had always been tight, he always wanted to show off his body for all men and women to see. He knew the easiest way to the heart was a solid chest. His chest also tanned as it became hairless; it too would never sprout hair again. Seth brought the camera up again to take another picture of his cousin, his chest yellowing as he did so.

The next picture came in quite odd. The only filter that had applied to his relative was a bigger, more prominent neck. Seth Kissel didn’t quite understand, yet the more he thought about it, the less he cared. Hayden Dawson had always had a neck like that.

Hayden grunted as his neck began to swell. His neck thickened as a meaty Adam’s apple slowly pushed its way out of his throat. His grunts became deeper and more mature, dropping from a prepubescent alto to a mature bass. His voice now had the stern quality of a young man, instead of that of a young boy. An amber tone appeared over his neck, giving him the complete look. With the deep voice also came power, causing Hayden to gently gain more confident, alpha personality traits. His levels of dominance began to rise and his intelligence continued to decrease.

Seth’s throat also tingled after he had taken the last picture. His neck thickened, making way for the maturing male coming out in him. A small Adam’s apple appeared in his throat too, definitely not as large as his relative’s but just as noticeable. His voice also dropped, but only half as far as Hayden’s had. He had now become a light tenor. His voice developed a more adulting tone, but also one that was inferior. As his inferiority slowly became more apparent, so did his now decreasing intelligence. He brought the camera up again, this time more timid as he took the picture.

The filter was applied instantly, not letting Seseu Kimmel choose if he wanted it or not. With no option of the filter, he didn’t recognize that the picture wasn’t showing his friend’s real face. To him, he believed that Heideun Dawso had always looked that way.

Heideun slowly opened his eyes, being the first time he had done so since he and his friend had played that dumb card game. He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to it; it was way too hard. Heideun looked around the room, his face growing longer as his chin and jaw began to expand. He noticed the attendant in the back, saying something to himself. As Heideun tuned in, almost completely making out the fluent Korean, his eyes began to shrink. Their blue tone took on a darker brown while his lips grew out a little. His darkening eyebrows straightened as his hair became a sharp black. His hair restyled itself, growing out and becoming a little bit messier due to the humidity of the room. His face matured, tanning into a solid golden tone yet still retaining some baby fat, giving him a true youthful, yet mature look. A natural, cocky sneer appeared on Heideun’s face as a dumber, more arrogant persona began to take over.

With Seseu absorbed into the camera, beginning to experience his first boner ever over a friend, he hadn’t realized that his face was changing too. His face stretched out longer, giving him a pointier chin. His eyes also shrunk a little as they changed to a dark brown. His nose shrunk while his hair restyled itself, becoming a penetrating black. More of his baby face stuck around, but he now looked like a young man. His lips became bigger, prepared to take on any cock of any size, and by the look on his face, he wanted his friends dick above anything. Seseu quickly took another picture, trying to be careful as to make sure his friend didn’t seem him.

The next photo was beginning to send Ses-eun over, his acquaintance was becoming more and more irresistible. He had simply snapped a picture of Hyei-sun’s feet at he could practically burst. The bony Size 11 US feet that were originally there were swapped out by the camera’s miraculous 265 mm feet.

“너무 섹시 해,” Ses-eun moaned in Korean quietly to himself. Trying to contain himself, Ses-eun hid his erection by scrunching up his legs, but didn’t notice how his thigh-length trunks now practically showcased his entire lower body.

Hyei-sun turned towards his acquaintance, hearing him mutter something. Ses-eun was too involved in the camera to notice Hyei-sun, so he got a clear look of the man’s body. A raging erection appeared instantly, causing Hyei-sun to casually grab his towel to place over it. It wasn’t that he was bashful, in fact he was quite confident in himself. The towel was instead going to be used as a cumrag. He had a hard-on, and he only knew one way to get rid of it. As he began to slowly stroke his erect dick, his feet began to shrink at the end of the chair. The Size 11 US feet that he once owned were lessening, becoming meatier as they lost their length. Eventually, they became soft and delectable, finishing to a size 265 mm. He knew his feet had power, and as he became more dense, he began to feel an urge to have other men bow down and service him at his feet. Hyei-sun couldn’t notice due to the essential oils, but his feet also began to emit a soft musk as they shaded themselves into a soft yellow.

Ses-eun was also palming himself, trying to find out how to discreetly grind without anyone noticing. While he was busy in his sexual haze, his Size 12 US feet began to diminish. They shrunk in quickly, becoming more mature and firm as they did so. Ses-eun’s pale, bony look was now replaced by something more luscious, as he now adorned two yellowy feet that fit perfectly into a pair of 250 mm shoes. Ses-eun knew he had to take one last picture of his overly attractive acquaintance, so he carefully took the camera out and took one last shot.

The final picture was what brought Seo-jeun to the edge. The picture looked almost the exact same as the last one, but this time he knew that the filter had applied something magical to the handsome stranger’s pouch. He could imagine how beautiful his 10 centimeter cock could have looked next to his large balls. He fantasized about how the amber tone must have brilliantly contrasted the wiry, black bush. Just envisioning the toned, hard butthocks on his back was bringing Seo-jeun closer and closer. The thought of the stranger’s package made him want to burst.

As Seo-jeun’s image became a reality, Hyun-sin was concocting something up for himself. At seeing the beautiful stranger in the pool make a look of ecstasy, he began to furiously pump his diminished cock faster. It didn’t shrink much, but it definitely brought more pleasure. As Hyun-sin cupped his expanding balls, he could visualize the golden bubble butt that laid inside the tiny red trunks. While his bush grew, he couldn’t help but dream of the tiny, 6.5 centimeter cock that was hidden between those thick legs. Once his butt had finished perking up, he pictured the small balls that had no black hair to hide behind inside the red trunks. As the last of the Korean genetics took over, Hyun-sin intelligence finished its descent at below-average. Everything left of his past self was pushed into his cock, ready to release.

“어 그래!” the man in the yellow trunks shouted proudly as he shot his load into the towel.

Seo-jun, hearing and seeing this, felt himself loading up. Seeing the glorious alpha in front of him made him clench his thickening cheeks together as they rounded into a soft bubble butt. His miniature cock ached as he felt his balls shrivel slightly. The last bits of pubic hair disappeared as his pouch took on a lemony tone. Seo-jun’s intelligence also stopped dropping, putting him just a few points smarter than the handsome stranger, but not enough to be dominant. The rest of his former life was pushed into his cum and ready to be expelled forever.

“어 그래!” the man in red trunks shouted anxiously as he shot his load into the pool water.

The two strangers looked at each other, both knowing that they had just come for each other. The one on the chair made eye contact first, his confidence burning from his eyes. The alpha Korean looked down at the pool on the submissive cockily.

The one on the pizza float looked back, scared to make eye contact at first but then suddenly drawn in. The submissive Korean looked up to the chair at the alpha sheepishly.

Before anything else could happen, the lifeguard, proud at his work, made sure to wrap up.

“Spa is closed!” the attendant shouted in Korean, causing the two strangers to snap out of their trances. They both looked at each other one last time before leaving. As the lifeguard locked the doors and the two walked towards their respective rooms, they only had two things on their mind. They had to figure out who the arousing Korean was that they saw, and they had to get a job at the hotel the next morning.

— —

Once the man in red trunks got back to his room, he quickly closed the door and threw himself onto the bed. He was quite cold, having ripped off the swim shirt earlier and suiting for just the towel. He got up and looked outside, the sun was reaching the horizon. His hair still wet with the sunglasses falling off in the back. The hotel had truly set an atmosphere just like home. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After a minute of vacant staring, he realized that he still had the camera in his hand. Once he turned it on, he realized that he had only take one picture with it; the handsome stranger letting his semen absorb into the towel before the spa closed. Seeing this, the man instantly got hard again.He jumped on the bed and began to jack off before switching to grinding. This continued for hours, passing out around midnight with the camera still in his hand.

— —

The man in yellow trunks had changed a long time ago, having switched into his favorite pair of sweatpants and a tight, black tee. He always forgot to wash them, so they both stunk of his natural aroma. The sun had long since gone down, and the man had closed the shades once it had gotten dark. The man sat there in a chair, enjoying one of the authentic, Korean drinks provided by the amazing hotel. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After drinking down the whole thing in one go, his cock began to firm up again. He grumbled in his low voice before jumping on the bed, ready to jack off for the third time since the spa had closed. The thought of that alluring stranger back in at the pool had driven the man crazy, he had to find out who he was. After he had come again, he passed out, exhausted from a long day’s work. His sweaty body emitted a putrid funk as the Korean semen sunk into the black tee.

— —

The alpha Korean sat quietly at the hotel’s coffee shop, a blended naeng-keopi in hand. He had woken up early, cleaned himself up, and had even wanked one out before arriving. The application office was due to open any second, and he was going to be ready. What he wasn’t expecting was to see the erotic stranger from yesterday sitting only a few meters in front of him. The strangers voluptuous backside was screaming to him. His eyes stared hungrily at the sub, his dick poking at the edge of his tight jean shorts even though it had received attention minutes ago. He got up, palmed his crotch, and walked towards the man, ready to finally meet his next conquest.

The submissive Korean sat apprehensively at the hotel’s coffee shop, a simple, unsweetened Korean tea in hand. He had also woken up early, cleaned himself up, and been able to grind one out before getting to the application office. He had many dreams about the sexy stranger in multiple positions. Dreams about feet, piss, feces, and overall submission were biggest recurring themes among other kinky things. Once he had got to the coffee shop that morning, he was excited to see the handsome stranger there. He purposely sat in front of him, knowing where his eyes would lurk.

Nearing the end of his drink, he heard the stranger get up and slowly walk over, but before anything coukd happen, the application office’s doors swung open.

“Wow,” the interviewer said to himself in Korean. A huge line had formed as soon as the door opened. “Looks like we’ll definitely have enough employees for the expansions.”

He ushered the first two in, noting that he might even have to start interviewing in groups with how well Lee Hae-jin’s plan was rolling. The first two were obviously eager, with one wearing a white button-up and tight jean shorts and the other adorning a lime polo and tan chino pants.

“Names?”

“Dong Hyung-sik,” the white shirt replied, not bothering to be polite towards the other.

“Kim Seo-joon,” the lime polo added, timid in the presence of the other.

“What job would you like?”

“Lifeguard,” they both responded in unison, causing the submissive Korean to blush.

“You’re both hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

The two confidently walked out, going towards the alpha Korean’s room. Lee saw them pass, smirking proudly at his success. The alpha Korean slapped the submissive Korean’s butt; they had some business they had to get to.

Hotel Korea: Chapter One

--- Originally posted on 2019-08-15 by dumb-and-jocked ---

The Lonely Husband

Lee Hae-jin stood at the top of his newest enterprise, filled with pride. Nobody could see him from below, as the immense building was over 50 stories tall, but he could see everyone below. The giant crowd had just begun the flood into the building. His latest accomplishment, one that would soon spread worldwide. His building, Hotel Korea, had just opened mere minutes ago. It was to become the biggest hotspot of the blooming American metropolis. It was filled with lavish resort accessories, including minibars, pools, spas, and a massive casino, all of which were authentically Korean.

Lee smirked to himself quietly, adjusting his crotch in his miniature running shorts. Most people wouldn’t recognize him in the running outfit, mistaking him as a guest rather than the owner of the soon-to-be expansive company, and that was the plan. He believed he could get the most honest, critical results if no one knew that he was Lee Hae-jin, but instead just his surname, Lee; so many people had the name that he’d simply hid in plain sight.

He looked one last time at the crowd, his muscles tensing before he began to walk away. He was excited to see the results after his guests’ stay. He believed they all had shockingly similar opinions after their time at the resort. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the simplicity of the hotel’s logo: “A Seoul-changing Experience.”

— —

James Parker was completely wiped out. In one day, he had married the woman of his dreams, taken a five hour flight to their honeymoon destination, and only halfway there realized that his new wife had accidentally boarded the wrong plane. He was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed, but to be fair he was exhausted. He had called his wife once he had landed, the two too exhausted to have meltdowns but still fairly ravaged. The plan was for James to stay in the honeymoon suite for the night at the new hotel that had just opened days before, then the two would meet the next morning. James felt terrible that his wife would have to take a red-eye flight, but he knew she was strong.

The two were psychology majors back in college. They had both met in class and, almost instantly, became an inseparable couple. They both looked fairly average, but their wits and intelligence were quite impressive, especially when put together. The only thing physically special about James was his large feet, which did say wonders about his large penis. It was surprising how such a normal looking person could have eight inches of hard meat in his pouch. Once the two had graduated with honors, they got engaged and married a year later. They planned to have an extravagant honeymoon night after they married, but so far that looked quite questionable.

James walked slowly out of the cab and grabbed his things before walking into the Hotel Korea. The new hotel had received incredible reviews, each stating their own “life-changing” experience. The couple had chosen it for its location, but James was excited about what else the hotel had to offer. He walked up to the front desk, which was surprisingly empty, contrasting the rest of the lobby which seemed rather full.

“Hi, um…” James fumbled over his words, “James Parker.” The young Korean attendant, who James could tell was rather handsome, seemed confused for a moment, as if he didn’t understand what to do. Then, moments later, something flashed in his eyes and he began to type away slowly.

“Ahight…” the Korean said, his accent extremely heavy, “You ah on top flouh in da Seoulmates Suite.” The young attendant, looked around, trying to find James partner, but found no one.

“She’s… a little late,” James replied, lying through his teeth.

“Ahh,” the Korean replied, “youh consiehge shouh be with yoo shouhly. He at da pooh”

Before James could ask what that meant, the young attendant was whipped away to another guest. A bellboy, also a handsome young Korean man, grabbed James luggage and walked to the elevator, hopefully up to James room. James followed a few signs, struggling to differ between the little English and lots of Korean in each direction sign. After almost ten minutes of searching, he came to the pool.

The pool was filled with people of all ages, most of whom were Korean. All of the bellboys, waiters, and other hotel employees where just as visually stunning as the first two. The hotel’s owner obviously wanted to set some kind of atmosphere. As James’ eyes surveyed the layout, he heard his name being called out in the distance.

“친구!” the voice shouted, “Oveh heuh, James!”

James followed the voice to find a young, confident man lounging in a poolside chair. Just like all the other employees, he was rather handsome and Korean. James was getting a little nervous about what his wife would think with all these attractive men. The young man wore a tight, blue polo and sharp chino shorts. His accessories included fancy dark loafers and a pair of sunglasses that hid his mischievous eyes.

“I am Gong Soo-Hyun, youh consiehge foh you and youh wife while you stay,” he said, extending his hand. James wondered if everyone here had the thick accent. “You can call me Soo-Hyun.”

Soo-Hyun went on to explain the rest of the day while giving a tour for James, describing all the things he would do as a bachelor for the night. James quickly followed and was excited to see all the different things he could do, but decided to go to bed early. He wanted to get a headstart to spend all of the next day with his wife.

Once he got to his room, he realized just how disappointed he was that he was alone. The room was enormous, and the view was incredible. He knew his wife would’ve loved to see this. He jumped on the bed, looking for his suitcase, but realized that none of his belongings were there. Probably got mixed up somehow, he’d have to ask Soo-Hyun about it.

James looked all around the suite for his stuff, not giving up just yet. He looked in the mini kitchen, behind the couch, even on the balcony. When he walked to the bathroom, he yelped, not realizing that Soo-Hyun was there.

“WOAH!” he cried, jumping back and looking away, “What are you doing in here?”

Soo-Hyun was sitting in there contently on the bathtub, his feet in a spa, wearing nothing but a black robe. James was thankful he didn’t get a good look, otherwise he might have seen more than he had ever need to.

“Calm down, James,” Soo-Hyun said, shifting his feet around in the miniature tub, “I’m jus checkeen do see if da watuh is wahm.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out!” James said, turning back slowly to look in the bathroom. He was desperately searching for eye contact, “What are you doing in my room?”

“Couples Mahssage?” Soo-Hyun said, pouring a few more salts in before picking up the spa and walking past him. James followed the handsome Korean man to find that his bed had been prepared this entire time. Lotions lined his bedside table and soft lighting had filled the room. Somehow, he hadn’t even notice the small machines spewing calming vapor into the air.

“I know yoh wife isn’ heuh, but I tought you migh need goo Korean massage,” Soo-Hyun said, placing the spa by the bed before tossing James a white robe. James didn’t really want to change, but Soo-Hyun told him too anyways. James met him halfway and stripped to his plane clothes, a soft gray tee and gym shorts, before putting the robe on. Soo-Hyun didn’t like it, saying it wouldn’t be an “authentic Korean massage,” but he didn’t fight it. James laid face-down on his bed, still not really getting why he was getting a massage, but as soon as the Korean’s hand pressed into his back, he didn’t have a single worry left.

As Soo-Hyun rubbed away, James began to realize how much stress he had on his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually relaxed, enjoying the fact that now he’d have an entire honeymoon to do it.

“You know,” Soo-Hyun remarked, getting some lotion into his hands, “youh 다리 (legs) are goouh. I don wemembeh de las time I saw Kowean man with haieh down deh.”

James was confused for a slight moment before forgetting as he grunted from Soo-Hyun hit a hard spot. He knew what Soo-Hyun meant, most men were hairless besides the head, pits, and pubes, but he was lucky enough to be graced with a very light coating of leg hairs. James was puzzled to why Soo-Hyun had mentioned Korean, but before he could think about it anymore, Soo-Hyun was caressing his legs with what immense pleasure. He hadn’t even noticed how he had translated the little Korean that was slipped into Soo-Hyun’s sentence.

As Soo-Hyun massaged the lotion in, James’ legs began to slowly change. The masseuse smirked as he watched the brown leg hairs almost disappear, becoming a very light, black coat. The calves and thighs began to bulk up, taking on a yellowy, tanner tone as his quads began to form. Although his legs were thickening, they began to shrink too. James height began to lower, going from six foot to 177 centimeters. James, too involved in his one pleasure, didn’t even notice how his feet were no longer touching the end of the bed.

“Ahso impwessed by dese 무기,” Soo-Hyun continued, grabbing more of the lotion, “You wouhk ouh ofden.” Soo-Hyun said it more as a statement than a question.

“Fouh times a week,” James replied, not remembering how he hadn’t been in a gym since high school. He also didn’t notice the hint of a lisp as he spoke. The feeling of Soo-Hyun kneading his arm was sending him into a new universe, and he loved it. He moaned quietly into the pillow as Soo-Hyun continued onto his arms.

Soo-Hyun rubbed the lotion in, making James’ arms begin to enlarge. The once-weak limb now began to expand, large biceps and triceps inflating underneath the tanning skin. As his forearms began to yellow, all signs of arm hair began to disappear as his limbs began to shed themselves onto the bed. Small black hairs began to fill in their space, but so tiny that no one could see them unless they were using a microscope. Soo-Hyun grabbed James’ hands, rubbing the lotion into them as they grew into soft, masculine paws. With James loving the Korean’s touch so much, he didn’t even realize when he had lifted up the sleeves to massage his armpits. Soo-Hyun grabbed a different lotion and rubbed it inside James’ pits, the brown bushes underneath darkening into a pitch black as they grew. They were definitely more impressive, but due to James’ now muscled arms, they couldn’t be seen unless the limbs were raised. A subtle funk began to permeate near James’ nose, but he just assumed it was a lotion.

“You have amazeen 가슴, Wha do you lift?” Soo-Hyun asked, pushing up the robe and James’ shirt lightly as he began to massage his back. He was inserting more and more of the native language, hopefully subtle enough that James wouldn’t notice.

“Usually 90 kilograms, buh mouh on my better days,” James replied, his voice muffled. He hadn’t noticed how he was slipping more into the weird lisp, or how he had used the metric system instead of his own imperial. James was to busy remembering all the times he had worked out, and enjoying Soo-Hyun’s touch, to think about other things.

With James’ shirt almost pushed completely up, Soo-Hyun had complete access to James back. He began to pound away, rubbing the lotion in every crack. James’ torso began to slowly inflate, the once mere chest filling in with hard muscles. Pecs began to form as abs popped in, each taking on its own unique form. The hairs that once lined James’ belly began to fall away, instead begin replaced with black hairs invisible to the naked eye. James’ shoulders widened as a perfect V-shape began to appear along his hips. While his chest began to tint towards an amber, his nipples began to expand on his large pecs, becoming much more sensitive. James’ moans grew louder as Soo-Hyun moved towards the neck.

“How lon have you had dat 목소리?” Soo-Hyun said while caressing James’ growing Adam’s apple, switching quickly into Korean. “It is smooth and sexy.”

“Issa Park hing,” James said, referencing his surname and cementing the language, “We ah have 자극 voice.” James loved his deep, alluring voice. He had remembered how many times it had been the reason for his sexual conquests. He had pounded so many women with his powerful voice. It ran in his family, the Park family, for a very long time. As he thought to himself about how appealing his voice was, he hadn’t realized that he was slowly beginning to think in Korean. His English was dissipating, and he had yet to realize that he was slowly beginning to forget his own name.

As soon as James’ neck finished yellowing, Soo-Hyun moved up to James’ temples.

“제임스,” Soo-Hyun said, reinforcing the language into his client’s head by saying his name in Korean. Soo-Hyun stay in Korean, hoping to push the guest over. “You are stunning. You know you are hot.”

Jeimseu’s brain immediately absorbed the subtle command as Soo-Hyun massaged away. His naturally shy demeanor was washed away as a more cocky, confident aura surrounded him. He was hot, and he knew it. In fact, he was more than hot, he was a sexy, intoxicating beast, and every person, male and female knew it. They all saw it as he shot his sperm into them.

Soo-Hyun, ecstatic that everything was working perfectly, applied more lotion has he recreated Jeimseu’s head. First, he straightened the jaw, giving it a sharper angle as he began to make his lips slightly larger. Next came the nose, which he enlarged before removing all signs of facial imperfections. Any signs of previous acne or blemishes were completely erased as a yellower tone began to tan Jeimseu’s face. His face reconstructed slowly into one more of Asian descent as his eyebrows were corrected. His once green eyes darkened into a brown as his hair became a deep, intimidating black before shortening into a more trendy, messy cut. What used to be a small stubble disappeared as tiny black hairs began to appear, just dark enough that you could see the hints of a mustache but nothing else. Jeimseu was now so deep into the massage that he had lost all control of himself, softly beginning to grind his mediocre cock into the bed. He also hadn’t noticed his intellect leaking away, slowly draining itself.

Soo-Hyun smiled to himself as he picked up the spa and put it on the bed. It wouldn’t have fit before, but due to Jeimseu’s shrank height it now had a perfect spot right at the end for him to dip his feet into. Soo-Hyun slowly picked up Jeimseu’s large feet and delicately placed them into the tub. Jeimseu was still face down, but the pillows did nothing to block out the noise of his moaning. When Jeimseu had walked it on Soo-Hyun in the bathroom, he hadn’t actually been testing the water: he had been adding to it.

This was all part of Lee Hae-jin’s master plan. The lotions and salts, provided by the Hotel Korea, were specially made back in Seoul. They would act as regular soothers to the common man, but to the touch of a Korean, they would act as transmitters, replicating the Korean genes into the user. Lee had thought of the idea as a way to combat Korea’s diminishing population and popularity; instead of finding new people, why not create them? He had proposed the idea to many investors and all of them agreed that it was a fascinating plan. After almost a year spent building the hotel, finding funds, and creating the products, he had finally put it all into action. All the staff members at the hotel knew their roles, and their real roles. With the masseuse rubbing the lotion all over the client’s body with his hands, he was subtly massaging the Korean genetic code into the guest. When Soo-Hyun was “testing” the waters, he had been actually activating the salts, making sure they would duplicate and recreate Jeimseu’s feet.

“You have beautiful feet,” Soo-Hyun stated, caressing the bottoms softly, “They are big for a Korean man.”

“You know what they say about big feet,” Jeomsou replied back in Korean. As Soo-Hyun massaged his feet, Jeomsou remembered how important his feet were too him. They were quite large, for a Korean, and they had been another reason that he was quite a stunner with the men. So many guys had longed to be down at his feet, to kiss his luscious toes, and all he could do was smirk inside the pillow. He loved his feet, and he made sure to take care of them. Pedicures, long runs, nice shoes. He also loved the smell, so he made sure to never use any deodorants.

While Jeomsou discovered a new foot fetish, Soo-Hyun worked away at the shrinking feet. Before, James had sported a quite surprising Size 14 US (above average), but Soo-Hyun had successfully brought the monsters to a much more appealing size. In honor of what they used to be, he made sure that Jeomsou had feet that were still quite big at 270 mm (above Korean average). The feet began to tan, blending in with the rest of the body, before pumping itself up. They used to be fat, but now they were plump with definition. The brown hair shed away, only to be replaced with a barely visible coating of black. The last thing that came was the funk. Soo-Hyun hadn’t meant for that to come, but he decided to keep it.

Before Jeomsou could react to the loss of rubbing on his feet, he was soon met by Soo-Hyun ripping off his shorts underneath the robe. Jeomsou, not remembering going commando, felt his buns being reshaped. He began to grind harder into the bed as his butt became two giant globes, bubbly and yellow. Once Soo-Hyun was done, he gave the round meat a slap and turned Jeomsou over, revealing the last part of Jeomsou’s previous life: his pouch.

“What are you…oh!” Joom-suo shouted as Soo-Hyun sprayed the cold lube on his large, white cock and balls. Not allowing Joom-suo to make anymore noise, Soo-Hyun quickly put his mouth over the large cock. Soo-Hyun was not at all ready for the immense size. The average size in his home country was just under 4 inches, so he was barely ready for double that. Joom-suo, after realizing what was happening, began to grind his pouch into the masseuse’s mouth, grabbing and yanking at his black hair in the process. Being a complete homosexual, he knew a good bottom when he felt one.

As Joom-suo moaned away, Soo-Hyun began to cup the balls and tickle them, riling up the almost-Korean sperm. As he did, Joom-suo’s large balls began to shrink, tanning and softening into something more reasonable from his soon-to-be homeland. As Joom-suo began to edge, Soo-Hyun began to ruffle the lube through the pubes, causing them to become a sheen black that shined. The last bits of lube were on Joom-suo’s dick, and as Soo-Hyun sucked away, it became more and more pleasurable for the top. It wasn’t because Soo-Hyun was getting better, but instead because his dick was becoming smaller and more sensitive. Joom-suo could feel his cock shrinking, each inch it lost making him more aroused. He didn’t know his dick was shrinking, but he loved the feeling of his head going from touching the back of Soo-Hyun’s mouth to slowly making its way across the roof. While he was sucked away, the last bits of intelligence were sucked away. Joom-suo had never been smart; he had always been on the dull side of things. He didn’t care though, why be smart when you can be sexy and stupid? It was all he needed.

As Soo-Hyun saw the last of the white skin sink into the ravaging, yellowy tan, he felt a geyser of pure cum pour down his throat. He pulled himself off, happy to see that the saying about big feet was still correct. There was still a rather large dick in front of him, standing proudly at 11 centimeters long. It was less than half of what it used to be, but it was still larger than the Korean average.

“Up here, babe,” a soft, yet demanding voice said to Soo-Hyun in Korean, ushering him to the head of the bed. Soo-Hyun laid his head to next to the former-client, present-lover. Soo-Hyun smiled as a lemony hand pushed off the messy hair of his head. His lover pushed himself up, placing his hand under his head.

“I think I might have to get a job here with you, it’s magnificent.”

“I know.” That was the last part of Lee’s plan, all of the clients would want to become employees in the end. Best way to expand.

“Put on some nicer clothes and go downstairs, there are open interviews right now,” Soo-Hyun said, getting up and fixing himself. That massage had proven to be a workout.

“Alright,” he replied, “but first…” As soon as Soo-Hyun turned around, he felt a gush of hot, steaming piss hit his face. He eagerly lapped it up and let it soak in his robe. He would love to adorn this scent later.

His lover quickly got dressed into the nice clothes conveniently placed under his bed before slapping Soo-Hyun on the butt and heading out. He walked down to the first floor, not needing any elevator. After a little bit of searching, and a lot of struggle trying to read, he finally found the spot for open interviews. He stood outside and waited, excited to pursue his dream career.

“Next!” someone shouted, and after spending a minute trying to translate the English, he walked in and took a seat, excited to begin.

“Name?” The interviewer now knew to stay in Korean.

“Park Joong-suk.”

“What job would you like?”

“Concierge.”

“You’re hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

Originally posted on 2019-09-03 by dumb-and-jocked

What a Johnson’s Made Of

Taylor was ecstatic.

Everything had gone right for him today. He had graduated with flying colors, he had just received special honors that lead to an incredible scholarship, and his longtime crush had just asked him out. Sure, the first two were amazing, but the fact that one of the hottest girls in the school had asked him on a date was the cherry on top. Taylor wasn’t that bad looking himself, being tall, slightly muscular, and having stark, black hair. His nerdy personality and short temper were usually what drove people away.

Taylor walked back slowly to his house, the evening sun setting behind him.The river was gleaming as he strode confidently down the path. Graduation had been that morning, and he had partied with friends throughout the day. Now, it almost being dinner time, he was heading back to the lavish mansion his family owned. As he strolled, he noticed a large new development being built. He gazed on, looking at the many construction workers. He scoffed in disgust - why couldn’t any of them get real jobs. He was on the route to be a neurosurgeon, worlds apart from what these dimwits had to offer. As he passed by, one of the construction workers noticed his staring and called out to him.

“Like what you see?” he shouted, flexing his arms to show off his furry pits.

Taylor quickly placed a hand to his mouth, holding back vomit. He gulped it down and then lashed out.

“Shut up you dirty fag! You really think someone of my life would lower to your animalistic standards!”

“Woah, bro,” the construction worker replied back, “I was just aski-”

“Asking what? If I’d suck your worthless dick?” Taylor shouted, furious.

“Alright, that’s it.” The worker jumped down from the platform he was standing on and quickly walked over to the student. Before Taylor could even move, he felt a large paw start dragging him into the fight.

“Hey! You can’t do this! THIS IS ILLEGAL!” Taylor tried to get out, but the worker was too strong.

“Shut it, bro!” The worker responded back roughly, dragging him to what seemed to be the middle of the sight. Taylor began to notice a weird funk surrounding him, realizing he was taking in the scent of his captor. He coughed, showing that he was obviously irritated. The worker, being dumb but not oblivous, grabbed the kid and gave him a noogie, shoving a pit in Taylor’s face. Taylor tried to escape, being covered in pit sweat and dark hairs.

Once the worker had taken him out, they stood in the middle of the development. There, in front of the worker and Taylor, stood a very muscular male. He looked to be in his late forties, with a rugged beard and dad gut. He definitely worked a very physical job, his body showing meaty strength and wearing age. He was reading the blueprints of what seemed to be the house being built around them.

“Boss?” The worker said, grabbing his attention.

“Harvey?” The boss replied, his voice stern and rough.

“This kid was causing trouble outside, I think you oughta be the one to deal with him.” The boss thought about this for a moment before creating a miniature smirk underneath his furry mustache.

“Thank you, Harvey, you can get back to work now.” Harvey pushed Taylor over to the boss before walking away. The boss pointed to the trailer beside the construction and walked towards it. Taylor wanted to run, but all he could do was follow. He couldn’t believe how much trouble he had gotten himself into. He knees shook as he opened the door to the trailer and closed it, sitting down at the desk where the boss had his boots up on the table. Taylor sat there quietly, waiting for the boss to say something. He couldn’t really see the boss - his rather large boots blocking the view - but Taylor could feel the immense power seeping out of the man before him.

“Luke Johnson,” the boss said, not extending a hand, “I am the manager of this development.”

“Taylor Stenson,” Taylor replied timidly.

“Well, Taylor, it seems yer creatin’ some kinda commotion, is that correct?”

“I wasn’t do-!”

“Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Taylor didn’t know what he added that, it just felt appropriate.

“Then, let’s getta the point,” Luke responded, taking his boots off the desk and placing his feet under the table, “I don’t have time to deal with you, and you don’t have time to deal with me.”

Taylor sighed in relief, maybe all blue collar workers weren’t dumb jocks after all.

“Let’s make it so that you never existed, is that alright?”

“Yes!” Taylor said in glee. He couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy.

“Alright,” Luke said, standing up and extending his hand, “it’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal,” Taylor said, shaking it.

As soon as the shake was over, Luke grabbed Taylor’s arm and pulled him over the desk. Taylor screamed in fright before his face was slammed into a giant boot. Taylor held his breath for quite a while, but eventually gave in. He unintentionally took a deep breath, the musk invading his brain. The powerful scent of pure masculinity overrode his head, giving his a massive headache. Taking the boot with him, Luke slowly lifted Taylor back over the desk and into the chair. Luke sat on the desk in front of him, lowering the boot from his face.

“There, that’s a good boy,” Luke said, “Daddy’s got you.”

Luke put the first boot on the ground before removing the other and putting it next to its twin. The way he said “daddy” bounced around in Taylor’s head.

“Why… are…” Taylor tried to speak, but his head ached tremendously. The foot funk was still lingering deep within his mind.

“Shh… don’t worry. Daddy’s got you.”

With Taylor still in his haze, Luke swiftly removed his tight polo and khaki pants. Both items of clothing had been truly showing off what lay beneath, as Taylor now realized that a true male adonis stood before him. Luke was covered head-to-toe in muscles with defined abs, powerful pecs, and gigantic thighs among many things. As Luke sat back down, Taylor became even more scared at seeing the python begging for release underneath Luke’s yellowed jockstrap.

“You agreed to this,” Luke said, his deep voice soft and sensitive, “I’m going to make it so that you never existed. So instead of being a Stenson, yer gonna be a Johnson.”

“But… I don-”

“You don’t have to understand, because Daddy’s here for ya.” Before Taylor could jump in again, Luke stood up from the desk and turned around. Luke’s large, muscular bubble butt pushed its way back, lining up the crack right along the center of Taylor’s face. Taylor, being so mentally disorganized, couldn’t argue as he heard a small rumble build up from within in the meaty buttocks. Seconds later, Luke let rip a massive fart right into the teen’s face. Taylor tried to get air, but the only thing available was the gas.

As Taylor inhaled the putrid scent of a blue collar behind, he didn’t realize that his body was slowly changing. As he timidly sniffed away, his structure began to alter itself to the new reality it was to abide to.

First, his torso began to bulk up. Taylor had participated lightly in the gym and some sports, but now he was truly showcasing something drool worthy. Years of exterior work began to grow on him as hard pecs and abs formulated. Meat filled in the loose cracks as body fat shrunk away. A deep tan spread across his broadening shoulders and the unkempt hair upon his chest fell away. His belly button shrunk in as his nipples enlarged, becoming ever so sensitive to even the touch of a safety vest.

Even though his chest had developed quite noticeably, Taylor was still being bombarded by Luke’s crack to notice anything. He also didn’t recognize his memories beginning to alter, rearranging themselves to become more appropriate to the better reality. Images of being placed in advanced and enriched classes began to evaporate as they were replaced with a regular level education. Special honors and scholarships disappeared as he remembered passing with straight B’s.

Luke slowly unbuttoned Taylor shirt before ripping it off, proud to see the promising chest that was displayed beneath. Luke slowly backed away from Taylor, making sure that every last hair on his butt would caress Taylor’s face. Taylor blinked, still befuddled, but before he could fully regain consciousness he saw a giant foot shoved into his face. Not thinking straight, he began to sniff the foot and - to Taylor’s and Luke’s surprise - lick it. He was fairly timid, but Luke didn’t expect him to be such a quick learner. As Taylor sniffed away at the massive foot in front of him, he hadn’t realized how nasty the sock was. Luke hadn’t washed them in over a week, making them into a somewhat second skin. Taylor should have been far away from the feet, but he was too confused to care.

Next, Taylor’s legs began to reshape. Days of running became weeks, months, even years as muscle was poured into his calves and quads. Thighs thickened, pushing the seams of the skinny jeans as years of truly masculine sports flooded his brain. Hard meat popped out as his dark hairs took on a lighter hue. His quads expanded to the size of melons while his legs lengthened, stretching him to a dominant 6’3, but still shorter than Luke’s 6’4.

Taylor’s memories also shifted, becoming more suitable to his closer future. Study sessions with friends quickly became practices with bros. Thoughts of easy tests transitioned into hard, brain-wracking hours were sometimes Taylor wouldn’t even finish. Times at home now became times in the locker room, where he had learned to appreciate his fellow brothers instead of his family.

Luke, believing Taylor was done, removed his sweaty, sticky foot and leaned over from the desk.

“Get up, buddy,” Luke said, with the words “buddy” and “daddy” dancing in Taylor’s head, “I gotta get yer pants.”

Taylor obliged, not really understanding why as his jeans were pulled down. He hadn’t even noticed Luke had stripped him of his shoes and socks. Luke sat back down and ripped off his old socks too, leaving the pair in only their underwear.

“Alright, you can sit back down,” Luke said, and Taylor followed, “time for you to clean Daddy’s pits.”

Luke got up and sat on the edge of Taylor’s almost naked lap. The powerful alpha was barely held up by the aspiring student, but neither of them cared. Luke then took Taylor’s head and guided it towards a dark, furry armpit, letting him sniff away. The scent was just as powerful as the first two, but this one had a lot more hair. The soft fur coated Taylor face with sweat, making him even more lightheaded.

Following were Taylor’s arms, which inflated with each eager sniff. Biceps and triceps began to appear as powerful tendons emerged. Beef and brawn were packed on to the appendages as all dark hairs began to disappear to a lighter coat. Wrists inflated as Taylor’s hands became much larger, filled with meat. He now had the paws of a man, instead of the hands of a nerd. The once skinny arms now looked to be more like those of a gym rat. His armpits also lost most of their hair, now creating wispy, but much more potent, bushes.

Taylor coughed, the scent from the pit being so immense. He couldn’t comprehend the life that he had once planned out for himself. The plans of becoming a doctor, inheriting his parents fortunes, creating a stable foundation all fell out from beneath his feet. As the year of sports and passing C’s filled his head, he remember the new scholarships. Paths for the future were now made from pigskin and spandex rather than paper. Taylor didn’t have a promising future in academics, but he definitely did in sports.

Luke slowly pulled back, noticing Taylor leaning forward while the pit moved away. Luke smiled and got back up. Taylor moaned in disorientation as Luke slowly pulled of his jock. As he did, a huge cock flopped out, the biggest that Taylor had ever seen. It was a thick as a can and it was incredibly long, standing at a proud 10 inches The balls were just as impressive, both the size of tennis balls and covered in an animal-like fur. They definitely produced a hefty amount of man-milk.

While Taylor admired Luke’s package, he carefully placed his grimy jockstrap over Taylor’s face, lining up the pouch with his nose and mouth. Once he had secured it, he sat back down on the desk and place his feet on Taylor’s crotch, slowly bringing him to full mast. He wasn’t going to let him blow just yet, he had to edge Taylor first.

Fourth was Taylor’s feet, which were rapidly changing as he sniffed and licked away at the vulgar jockstrap. His once pristine Size 9 feet began to bloat, his naked toes pushing out against the cheap trailer carpet. The once lean feet became meaty as years of running and stomping replaced those of strolling and dance. Light hairs appeared as the toenails became rigid and dirty, looking more like those of a construction worker than those of a rich boy. Once the feet reached a promising Size 15, they began to emit their own obnoxious funk, one that would never be washed away.

Taylor didn’t realize it, but he was slightly enjoying the disgusting pouch in his face. He also didn’t realize that his heterosexuality was slipping away. Many girlfriends became many boyfriends, topping men rather than women. A strong love for penis replaced that of boobs, while the thought of being in the strong arms of a man aroused him more than being those arms for a woman. His bros were no longer just bros, as countless pictures of brojobs and “lending a hand” replaced conquering a fair share of women. Homosexuality slowly took the front seat as heterosexuality left, never to return again.

“You’ve been really good so far, son,” Luke said, the word “son” joining with the others. Like got up and removed the jockstrap, “I think it’s time that Daddy gave you a treat.”

Taylor looked up adoringly at the sexy alpha in front of him, not knowing what to expect. Luke grabbed his dick and - after grunting a bit - let loose a hot, steamy stream of yellow piss. It his Taylor right in the face.

“Drink up!” Luke said, aiming right for the mouth, “It’s gonna be part of yer diet.”

Taylor instantly obeyed, trying to get every drop into his mouth.

As the piss flooded his throat and stomach, his head and neck began to adapt. A sharp collar bone pushed its way out as his neck thickened, giving him access to a widening, deepening Adam’s apple. As his register lowered into that of a base, his face began to shift as well, becoming a younger version of Luke’s. Taylor’s face became squarer as his hair shortened, lightening into the proper sandy blond. His lips became larger as his eyes adapter a duller gray tone. His nose straightened while his skull became bigger and his brain became smaller. The A light stubble grew in, one day to hold the same beard of Luke’s size.Taylor’s chin jutted out, creating a larger jaw and a natural dumb guffaw tone to his voice.

The yellow piss flooded Taylor’s system, enveloping him in a warm aura. He couldn’t feel his intelligence being boiled away, the urine eroding away the little left inside Taylor’s head. Memories of sports scholarships passed away as C’s faded into D’s and F’s. Graduation became a joke as Taylor began to remember dropping out of high school. Time at school became time at numerous construction sites, finding the bros who really understood him. The last bits of his old family and friends melted away as the new reality began to firm.

The last drops slowly fell and soon there was nothing left from Luke’s bladder. Knowing it was time to wrap things up, he grabbed Taylor and threw him on his knees.

“Time for Daddy to show you where we get the family name - what a Johnson’s made of.”

Before Taylor could react, Luke’s colossal dick was shoved in his mouth and down his throat. Luke wasn’t a patient man, but Taylor had never sucked a dick before. He immediately sputtered and began to choke, but Luke quickly readjusted. Taylor sucked and quickly got the hang of it. Not only was he a natural, but not many professionals could even handle Luke’s size. He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed.

The last bits of Taylor changed as the furry oranges Luke called testicles hit against Taylor’s chin. Taylor’s dick slowly began to enlarge, the once erect 6 incher beginning to stand taller. As it rose to new heights, his balls also began to change, growing from average to extra large. His butt plumped up as his cheeks filled with solid meat. Light hairs replaced the dark pubes as his cock thickened, reaching 9 inches of pure masculinity and looking almost as thick as Luke’s. He was meant to be an alpha, but just below this one man. His balls churned as he felt Luke getting close.

While Taylor became more and more skilled at the art of cocksucking, he hadn’t realized that his balls were churning with the remaining memories of his former life. He now felt a certain kinship to this man, almost as if he was his own father. The more Taylor dwelled on the subject however, the more he remembered Luke as a father figure. He had helped lead him to construction, show him it was best to be blue collar, made him realize that each bro was there to help him - or be helped by him. But Luke was more than just a father figure, he WAS his father. His earliest memories were filled with his dad. Showing him how to ride a bike, catching his first fish, helping him shave. He also showed him how fathers and sons were to always be naked with each other, how the son would deepthroat his own father when needed, how he was only allowed to act and wear what his father wanted him to.

As Luke approached the climax, Taylor’s body twitched violently. It was barely noticeable, but Taylor had just gained an extra five years to his age. His body had barely matured, his muscles were a little firmer, and his hairline slightly receded, but otherwise he still looked like the proud son of his amazing father.

Luke shouted as he violently came, semen rushing down Taylor’s throat right down into his balls. His own cum was instantly pushed out, being evicted by the superior seed of his father. Taylor ejaculated, completely ridding himself of his old life and reality. Taylor Stenson soaked into the cheap carpet, never to be seen again.

As soon as the two had gotten over their post-ejaculation high, the father and son cleaned up the trailer to get back to work.

“Crap!” Luke shouted.

“What?”

“I don’t have any extra clothes here besides these shorts.” Luke held up a pair of basketball shorts. They had definitely been used and worn many times. “You’ll have to wear these until we get to the warehouse.”

“Sounds rad, daddy,” the son said, walking over and grabbing the shorts. Luke himself was going to be rather exposed, wearing only an old pair of cargo shorts and large sneakers. The original outfit was used to clean up his son’s cum.

While the son placed the shorts over his naked body, he felt his father grind him from behind. His father’s bare chest felt so sensual against his own. The cargo shorts did nothing to hide his father’s erection.

“Can’t wait to see what ya look like in a safety vest,” Luke whispered, his beard caressing his son’s face. The two quickly made their way out of the trailer and walked two the other side of the development. As the son walked ahead, Luke could only smile: he was so incredibly proud. He couldn’t believe how perfectly he had turned out.

“Hey, son,” Luke said, causing the other man to turn around, “show me where the family name comes from.” The son smirked cockily.

“Johnson?” he asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s a Johnson here,” the son pointed to his left pec

“Yeah?”

“A Johnson here,” he then pointed to his right pec.

“Wow!”

“And a lot of Johnsons right here.” The son pointed at each of his abs.

“So hot!”

“And the best Johnson here!” he pulled down his shorts quickly to show his erect dick. His father applauded him before the son pulled his shorts back up and struck a confident pose.

“Wow, you’ll make a fine Johnson indeed!” His father said before the two continued.

— —

Once they made it to the warehouse, Luke quickly dressed his son up. The proper safety vest, toll belt, old jeans, giant boots, and a large hard hat to fit his giant, but empty, head. Once he was suited up, the father jumped on a crane to get back to work.

“See you at 8, son!” He shouted, “Yer gonna show me what a Johnson’s made of.”

Luke drove off, leaving the son there on his own. As soon as his father was out of sight, another construction worker came into the warehouse. He was hairy, dumb, and extremely sexy.

“Hey, I’m Harvey,” he said, he deep voice rumbling

“Travis,” the son replied.

“While ya wait for him,” Harvey started, referring to Luke, “ya wanna show me what a Johnson’s made of?”

“I’ll tell you it starts right here,” Travis said, pulling back his safety vest to show Harvey his chest. Travis knew the furst Johnsons were good, but he knew Harvery would think the last one was the best.

Bro-Job

--- Originally posted on 2023-12-04 by dumb-and-jocked ---

BRRRRRRING!

Rodney paced awkwardly in front of the door, two voices in his head battling viscously for control. The first, which begged the question “Why am I here?!” over and over was the more persistent. A 5’5 skinny gay psych major on Greek Row? Yeah, that voice was definitely winning. The other however, the one prompting the single response of “Money.”, was enough to make Rodney stay.

“Hello?” Rodney called out, his bright tenor a little too nasally. He had come in response to a job offer put up on campus. He didn’t actually know what the job was, but it promised “All dudes welcome, free food and drinks.” The free amenities would certainly help pay for his student housing.

After still hearing nothing, Rodney decided to investigate. Someone had to be home, it wasn’t like all the frat boys would already be out and about town. Actually, that possibility didn’t seem too far-fetched. With a huff, Rodney marched his way around the massive frat house, following the driveway to the backyard. Three frat boys were parked by the detached garage, their muscly forms on full display.

“Uh,” Rodney started out. “Excuse me?”

The three men, in a heated argument over big tits or big butts, turned to face the boy half their size. Two of them wore a face of disgust, but the third popped a smile of delight.

“What can we do for you, little man?” the third greeted with two Natty Lights in one massive mitt.

Rodney gulped, noting the major size difference between him and them. “I’m uh…here for the job opening?”

The other two frat boys smirked at that response.

“Hey Chet, looks like someone finally replied,” the first chuckled.

“Cheers to that, broski!” the second, who would make any excuse for a celebratory swig, cheered.

The third, Chet, couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright little man, let’s head in the frat house and get this interview started.”

Rodney nodded, surprised at how simple this whole ordeal was. The much larger jock tossed a bulky arm around the gay nerd and led him to the mansion. Rodney tried to hide his blush at the physical touch, praying that the frat boys wouldn’t see his small, but very present boner.

“First things first bro,” Chet started, tossing Rodney a beer. “We gotta get you a little more comfortable.”

“'Comfortable'?”

“Well sure dude,” Chet laughed, falling back into a crusty couch behind him. “I’m already four deep, so we gotta catch you up.”

Confused, but desperate enough for a job, Rodney cracked open the cold one. He took a timid sip, much to the disapproval of the frat boy.

“Nah bro, don’t be a fairy about it.” Chet shook his head as he patted for the nerd to sit behind him. Trying his best to ignore the previous comment, Rodney placed himself beside the jock. Immediately, Chet grabbed the can and lined it up to Rodney’s mouth, forcing the smaller boy to chug the rest of the beer.

“What the…!” Rodney sputtered, catching his breath. “What was that for?!”

Chet handed the kid another beer. “That’s how you smash, bro! Alright, next one.”

Rodney hated this situation, but he knew he would more despise a situation with no money. After some slight hesitation, Rodney pounded the second beer. Chet made him move through one more, joining the nerd with his own can, tacking their totals to three and five.

“Ahhh…” Chet moaned, patting the stacked eight abs underneath his sweaty tank. He then belched proudly, letting the alcohol take its course. Rodney could only watch on in amazement and an embarrassing amount of arousal.

“Now,” Chet tossed his meaty arm back around the nerd. It took Rodney a second to realize the warm, wet liquid coating his shoulder was sweat from the frat boy’s jungly armpit. “So the job-”

“Oh yeahhh...” Rodney followed with a short giggle. He guessed the alcohol was beginning to assimilate into his system.

“That’s what you’re here for!” Chet exclaimed. “It’s so easy, there’s really only so much you have to know and do.”

Rodney took a swig of his fourth beer, copying the movement Chet had displayed with his sixth can. “Well, what’s to know?”

“There’s that confidence, bro!” Chet took the arm wrapped around the nerd and gave him a playful noogie, the tangled mess cropping up into a neater bro cut. “I was wondering how long it would take for that beer pressure to start hitting you!”

Rodney wanted to correct the jock’s expression, but instead he let out a solitary hiccup. That was followed by a second swig as he watched Chet open into a grand explanation of the job’s responsibilities. 

There was a lot to take in, more than Rodney had thought there would be. The exercise standards, the room-and-board requirements, the daily bonding with bros. And while Rodney listened to everything Chet said, he didn’t realize he was also paying attention to the frat boy’s mannerisms. Rodney was so entranced at every movement of the broadcast. Every scratch, every subtle flex, the way the Adam’s apple bounced with every chug. Even Chet’s dazed-out dumbness and increasing amount of slurring was absorbed by the nerd.

What Rodney didn’t realize however was that each time he picked up on one of these moments, he mimicked it as well. The behavior was being digested into his psyche, the frat boy’s macho ideology sinking down into his core with each new swig of beer. 

While Chet discussed the height requirement, Rodney’s frame shifted underneath the jock’s grasp to notch him up to a proper 6’3. When Chet mentioned the necessary sizes of the biceps, triceps, and quadriceps, Rodney failed to notice his own arms and legs bloating out to gigantic muscular portions. And with each and every swig of beer Chet took, Rodney copied and pasted.

BUUUUUUURRRRRP!

“Ah yeahhhhh!” Chet proclaimed, dropping his seventh empty can. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, bro.”

With a hearty swat, the frat boy smacked Rodney’s small gut. His torso immediately deflated under Chet’s touch, sharpening out into eight stacked abs that fit perfectly underneath his cushy pectorals.

Buh-UUURRRP!

“Huhuhuh,” Rodney chuckled, not noticing his voice was morphing into Chet’s silky-smooth baritone with every syllable. “Like…that felt sooo gooood.”

“Of course it did, bro!” Chet obnoxiously replied. “That’s how frat life always is!”

Rodney watched as Chet groped himself with his free hand. Although it was more than that really: tugging at his massive cock and balls. Rodney then noticed the swath of pubes spilling out over the waistband of Chet’s tiny shorts, realizing the frat boy was going commando.

This typically would’ve excited him, almost to the point of bursting right there, but Rodney's meager dick had surprisingly gone dormant. Rodney rationed it was the alcohol, noting that he’d already started his sixth can. And he was thankful for the lack of attention anyway. If Chet would’ve seen him get hard over another dude, that would’ve been awkward. Yet Rodney couldn't exactly figure out why...

With one hand still handling his boys, Chet suddenly grew quiet and leaned in close to Rodney. His breath was warm and laced with alcohol, each tickling Rodney’s neck before climbing down his shirt, the shirt that had removed its buttons, expensive material, and sleeves.

Rodney watched as Chet got his hand out of his shorts and began feeling up Rodney, piece by piece.

“These arms, brochacho…” Chet murmured, wiping his ball sweat across Rodney’s thick, tanned canvas. Small hairs poked up in Chet’s wake. Chet then lifted one of Rodney’s arms and took a sniff, as if inspecting for quality. Sure enough, a rotten smell emerged from the chestnut groves that had erupted within Rodney’s pits, yet that was the fresh quality Chet had been looking for.

After a quick swig, which was repeated on Rodney’s part, Chet’s massive hand swooped down towards Rodney’s legs, evaluating the meat. Rodney only watched on with a lazy smile, propping his legs out into a typical, bro-ish manspread to accommodate. Without warning, Chet’s hand then launched underneath Rodney’s buttocks, giving one of his cheeks a sharp pinch.

“Hey! Watch it, homo!” Rodney shouted, not catching the slur or the fact that his exclamation had come out with complete clarity.”

“Woah woah, broooo…” Chet slowly pulled his hands back. “I’m just checkin’ if we’re sealed shut dude, wouldn’t want the fairies intruding.”

Sinking immediately back into his drunken haze, Rodney nodded along pleasantly. He thanked his bro for watching out for him, his hole silently shutting tight in response.

Chet let another belch loose before continuing, “Minddd if I tell you a secret, brooo?”

Chet got closer to Rodney, even going as far as to place his sweaty, socked, Size 14 feet on top of Rodney’s.

“Yyyyyeeah dude…” Rodney slurred back.

“Huhuhuh,” Chet started. “See the sorority…rity next door brah?”

Rodney shifted a bit in his seat, slightly turning his own sweaty, socked, Size 14 feet.

“I just banged like…” Chet had to take a second to count. “Ten…eleven…eleven…twelve of those chicks last week. I set…like…a completely new record brochacho!”

The pair burst out into a massive drunken laugh fest, tossing their heads back in an exaggerated manner. Rodney chugged the rest of his beer messily, some droplets splashing onto the bushy mustache crawling over his upper lip like a caterpillar. They both tossed their sixth and eighth behind them.

“Nowwwww…” Chet slowly started again. “We’ve discussed the bro-knows, but now we oughta get to the bro-dos of the Bro-Job.”

“Brahhhh…” Rodney echoed. “The way you’re sayin…sounds kinda gay man…”

Rodney didn’t even consider why this could be a problem.

Chet moved on, “Brah, how I handle my initiations…it's gotta be personal.”

“Init…inuiti…initiations?” Rodney tried to ask, struggling on the word.

“These Bro-Jobs dude…” Chet tried again, screwing off his backwards cap before fixing it onto Rodney’s head. “They're serious busy-nesss….”

Rodney snickered at the odd pronunciation, his jaw and browline growing more pronounced after each chuckle. He then tossed back the rest of his beer, crushing it in one of his massive paws.

“Brah…I need more beeeeerrrr, stat.” 

“Heh, don’t we all bro,” Chet crushed his own empty can before adding it to the disarray of the messy house. “But you gotta pass the initiation man! Your next beer can is your own!”

The frat boy said it in a way where even though the statement made no sense, in their drunken comradery it held like a secret code. 

“Wha…bro…arrrrre you sayin’-?”

“No homo man” Chet immediately quelled the alarm that had been arising in Rodney’s system. “It’s just a part of the Bro-Job…gotta…gotta add more of that frat sauce to the brew or somethin’...”

Both of them stuck their hands down into each other’s packages through their tiny shorts, which Rodney didn’t remember his own had been long slacks before. Or that he had been wearing underwear before. But what did strike Rodney as odd was the manner of this exchange. It still felt off.

“But…” Rodney tried to find the clarity he needed through his drunken incoherent mass of thoughts. “Kinda...gay brah?”

The not-so homosexual man flinched, his lingering sexuality slowly succumbing with the strangely tough pulls that enlarged his precious tap forcefully. It wasn’t long until Rodney’s pride and joy were surging with the same potent and propagating brew of the frat boy who was pumping him. His manhood was now a giant spout, with his swollen balls filled with the pure, raw hormones that ensured his kegs were always juicing.

“Dude…” Chet chuckled. “It’s not gay if you’re thinkin’ of all the chicks that will be beggin’ to ride this thing.”

After a hefty amount of thought, Rodney realized Chet was right. He wasn’t thinking about dudes or bros or nothing. None of the homo crap was even in his mind. In fact, the very idea of being a faggot disgusted him. All Rodney could think about was chicks. Tits and pussies and breeding them one by one with his vaccination shots. Except these shots weren't protecting these babies from anything. Rather, he was contaminating them. And that made Rodney feel good. Absolutely frat-tastically good.

“Ahhhh….brooooo…!” Rodney moaned. “I think I’m gonna blow!”

“Then do it, dude!” Chet replied.

“NO HOMO BROOOO!!!” The frat boys shouted in unison, their gigantic splooges pouring out into their bro’s hand. After the ecstasy had released, they both removed themselves from the other’s shorts and returned the babymatter to their owners, wiping each other’s work on the other’s tank top.

“God dude,” Chet replied. “Nothin’ beats THAT part of the Bro-Job.”

The newly-minted frat boy could only guffaw. His dreams, aspirations, and uniquities were completely gone, let alone his intelligence deteriorated down to the bare minimum. He was now only gifted with the simple desires of a sexually-overdrived culturally-accepted delinquent.

“I never got your name by the way,” Chet laughed. “I’m gonna need it for the prez so he can register you for the frat.”

“Hot Rod,” Rodney replied, the nickname coming out as if it was a programmed response.

Chet gave Hot Rod a brotherly swat before lifting him up off the couch. “'Hot Rod', huh? I think that will suit the other bros well once you finish the last part of the job.”

“There’s more, dude?” Hot Rod asked, following the other frat boy out to the front yard. “We both know I’m perfect for the frat life!”

“Well of course!” Chet then grabbed a computer and handed it over to Hot Rod. After looking for a little too long, Hot Rod eventually realized it was an online job board.

“I gotta get a job, bro?” Hot Rod asked, somehow making the dull timbre of his tone sound even dumber.

“No, dude!” Chet rolled his eyes. “The last part of the Bro-Job is recruiting the next member.”

Hot Rod’s empty expression signaled his lack of understanding.

“I just completed the Bro-Job,” Chet explained. “Now it’s your turn.”

Again, after a little too long of a pause, the pieces finally managed to place themselves together in Hot Rod’s head. With a thick guffaw, he made the job opening available once more before closing the laptop. He then placed the device behind him and took a seat at the end of the driveway, twisting his cap and assuming a cocky pose.

“What are you doing, bro?” Chet laughed.

“Sittin’ pretty, brah,” Hot Rod shot back. “Wanna make it easier for the next fag that rolls around.”

Protocol 69

---

Originally posted on 2023-06-24 by dumb-and-jocked. (Thanks again for dumb-and-jocked for all your stories!)

This story was nuked quite quickly last time, I recall. So, please reblog in effort to keep multiple copies alive.

Last thing: I am sorry this post does not have any italics/bold! I had some issues properly saving it back then. If anyone cares I'll try recover the formatting.

---

“I’m sorry Officer, but did I do something wrong?”

After a 10 hour drive with tumultuous traffic, I’d expected to get some rest in the hotel room my company had paid for when they’d sent me to Texas for a business conference. I wasn’t too far out of the Dallas-Fort Worth area, but apparently far enough for some forms of homophobia to proudly exist. When I had pulled in, I immediately noticed the front desk glare at the pride sticker on my back window. When they’d picked up the phone right after, I’d assumed the two events were unrelated. But the cop standing calmly in front of his vehicle parked beside mine told me differently.

“Nothin’ we can’t fix,” the officer replied ominously in that classic drawl.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I started politely. “But I’m very exhausted, and I’ve got some important meetings to attend first thing tomorrow. If you don’t have anything to arrest me for, then I’m going to respectfully leave.”

“Yer kind ain’t welcome in these parts.” The officer’s response was calculated. “Just cause I can’t arrest ya doesn’t mean I can’t still bring ya in.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, becoming a little agitated.

“They’re called ‘correctional facilities’ for a reason,” he added.

“So you’re gonna jail me for being gay?”

“For threatening this town’s good traditional values and lifestyle?” the officer manipulated. “Then yes, yes I sure will.”

The officer then approached me with a pair of handcuffs. I wanted to fight back, and it took everything in me not too, but I was familiar with how these things could go down. He stood fairly tall and was well-built; a classic All-American family man. I was a college runner who clocked in a few inches under 6 feet, so running could have been an option if I wanted to engage. But I’d wait it out, play the little game until my future lawsuit kicked this homophobe and his whole department to hell.

But something in the back of my mind was still flicking the panic button. All of this seemed too easy for the officer, too habitual. As if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he’d done this many times before. As if this wasn’t the first time this had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

— —

The last thing I could remember was sitting down in the back of that officer’s vehicle with my hands behind my back. He opened the door for me and I followed instructions, but I couldn’t place what happened after he’d started the car. In fact, I had no idea of how I had gotten into my current situation. The old interrogation room was empty, besides the entire back wall that was lit by a projector. My clothes were gone, leaving me completely naked. And my penis was placed in some kind of tube. I tried to yank it out, but the device was not going to give it up.

“Hello!” I shouted angrily. “You can’t do this!”

There was no reply, but the projector screen did light up. Letters began to appear along the bricks, spelling out what I prayed to anyone above was not actually possible: “Protocol 69: Conversion Operationalization Activated.”

“Hey!” Desperation was beginning to show in my voice. “No, please don’t! I don’t know what is happening but don’t do this! I’ll do whatever it is you want, please!”

My cries for help were meaningless however. No one appeared to hear me or respond. Instead, the words flashed before disappearing. Something new began to boot up on the screen, an introduction video of sorts.

“Welcome to Benbrook,” a cheery male voice began as an old cartoon began to play. It looked like some educational video from the Reagan Era. “This growing Texan city welcomes you to all the finer things in the American life.”

Suddenly, the tube my dick was currently stuck in began to move. As if awakening from a great slumber, a portion of the device groggily creaked before swiveling itself around my cock. All 5 inches were rapidly on display as the tube proceeded to jack me off, twisting and pulling and turning and releasing as it gave me the most sensual action of my life. I was no virgin, but I had never felt anything like this before.

“However, if you are currently watching this video, that means you’ve come to tarnish and harm the great opportunities Benbrook can provide you with.” The cartoon placed a word across the screen that flashed as if it was a warning alarm. The “H” in “Homosexual” appeared particularly loud. “We hope you understand that the upcoming process you’re about to undergo is meant to not only protect our safety and way of life, but to enhance your own as well.”

I was trying so hard to find a way to escape, but the dazzling colors of the projector and the edging experience down below were hindering my focus. Instead of fighting back, I simply moaned as my dick underwent its electronically-sensual torture and watched as a dingy spiral came into view. My eyes centered in on the old-timey display that swirled around in circles. I couldn’t tell if the fluttering of my eyelids were due to the sexual action below or what my eyes were now hypnotized by above.

While the spiral and the tube instrument performed their jobs, I began to feel something squirting out of my cock. It wasn’t semen, precum, or even piss for that matter. Although I wasn’t able to completely look down, I could see a glittery, luminescent stream now flowing through the tube. Something was being drained out of me, but I was too distracted by the spiral and too turned on by the mechanical sucking to care. It just felt so good to give in to the spiral and not worry about anything else but being pleased. The machines were doing me a favor really. I didn’t have to think; all I had to do was watch while I was given pleasure.

The glittery flow continued out of my body, causing my breathing to hurry a bit as the progression towards ecstasy continued. Grabbing the tube to steady myself, I didn’t notice my grip expand and solidify harder across the machine. My digits expanded, my feet following suit as they too bloated across the cold metal floor. After a while, my meaty fingers were able to surround the entirety of the tube. My feet–although I didn’t bother looking at them–were now able to grasp me firmly to the ground; their Size 14 nature containing the strength meant to hold the weight of a real man.

With the spiral and pump still working their magic, I couldn’t be bothered with watching how my legs and arms were changed next. As the homosexual energy was removed from my body, my ligaments were allowed to expand. Biceps and triceps that had never existed before blew up like balloons. Calves inflated in certain areas while shrinking in others, creating legs meant less for long distance running and more for shorter sprints. The quads swelled too, now able to do so being that they were no longer needed for any track. They were now created for sports played by alphas: football, basketball, and baseball. None of that cross country or tennis pansy crap.

After the shoulders had finished broadening with an incredible lengthening to my deltoids, the glitter was able to leave my torso next. My pits filled in with curly bushes of tangled hair, matted with sweat and stinking to the high Heaven. And even with the plump pecs and removal of body fat that was happening to my expanding frame, the forests would never be able to be completely hidden. By suctioning out the energy, my abs were showcased in a more elite form. Each abdominal was now hard across my stomach, all eight leading down to a perfect treasure trail that had never been able to grow before now. My height had been extended too, now putting me well over the 6 feet I’d never reached before.

The stream was flowing steadily now, extracting my homosexuality from what I assumed had to be the most concentrated areas: my head and my cock. Being that they were the only two parts of my real self left unscathed, this next part of the process would probably be gruesome. My buttocks were first to change, clenching hard as their luxurious fat was eliminated to create muscled pillows similar to my pecs. My hole closed in on itself almost immediately after, its purpose now reduced to duties only regarding objects exiting the body. My balls ripened and plumped into a generous sack, and my hard dick sputtered an extra few inches forward. The tube was still able to manage the added girth however, all 8 inches fitting into an even tighter squeeze than before.

With a grunt and dazed gaze at the projector screen, I watched lazily as words began to flutter across the screen. Although I was in no state of mind to focus–and I certainly should have been doing it towards literally anything else–I used all of my remaining willpower to try and decipher the letters that flashed upon the screen. While doing so, the tube continued to suck out the remaining substance of my homosexuality. My chin widened into a shape so square and masculine it was almost comical. My brow popped out to create a more Neanderthal-look, pursing my eyebrows and lips basically permanently. My hair was shaped into something more typical and douche-like. I couldn’t see it, but I knew I had been created into a breeding machine.

“Boobs” was the first word I was able to decipher from the projector. I grunted and began feeding my monster cock to the tube as if I was in charge. “Pussy” came next, followed by “Clit” and “Cunt”. The tube began to let up around my dick, but I didn’t care anymore. I was so hard, so horny, and for some reason it was for the words that flashed across the brick wall. With the help of “Vagina” and the simple “Woman”, I asserted my dominance and proceeded to thrust into the machine myself, my throbbing penis shooting in and out.

The tube had stopped moving, but it didn’t matter to me anymore. I had only one thing on my mind. “Impregnate” the screen suddenly read, adding to the list of words already revolving around the screen. “Propagate” wasn’t too far behind, and neither was “Seed.” Suddenly, my horny fantasies didn’t just revolve around women. I realized I wanted to fill them, get my babies to coat their entire inner bodies. I wanted to…I wanted to… “Breed.” Yes, I wanted to breed. I wanted to multiply, make an entire generation of me. Identical to me. Same looks, same goals, same ideologies.

And before I knew it, even more words had been tossed into the mix. “Homophobia” arrived with a sting, a certain loathsome tingle erupting out around my body. “Alpha” was preceded by “Dominant,” and “Superior” was proceeded by “Traditionality.” All of these words sunk into my brain, accepting the new mindset as my ideals connected with my sexuality.

The programming gradually flickered faster, each new pulse sending a tiny bit more pressure to my dick. My thrusting grew more aggressive in response. I grabbed onto the tube with a renewed sense of strength and felt my gaze leave the projector’s trance for the first time. Allowing my eyes to roll back into my head, I released a dumb groan as the glittery stream dried up.

With one final thrust, a massive shot of my own cum was sent down the tube. The projector had finally stopped, displaying only “Thanks for watching!” in cutesy, bouncing letters before shutting off. The room went dark after that, but I blacked out before I even realized it.

— —

“Oh yeah,” I groaned as she sat on my lap, my massive schlong shoved up her tight pussy. “Ain’t that just right.”

Without saying a word, I got to work and felt my cock immediately getting ready to fire. When it came down to business, I could get my babymaker spewing fast. And being that I still had at least two other girls in town that needed to get rid of their flat stomachs before I went to work in an hour, I had to fertilize these chicks FAST!

“That’s right babygirl,” I was able to say between grunts. However, my cock immediately deflated when I noticed a sedan pull up across the street. The sedan itself was a crime–only trucks should be driven in Texas after all–but the “LGBTQIA+” sticker on the back nauseated me beyond belief. Visible disgust came over my face quickly, causing as my current conquest to ask me what was wrong. I grabbed my phone and explained I had to make a quick call to her dad. It wouldn’t take more than a minute I promised.

“Benbrook Police Department,” a sturdy, masculine voice answered.

“Yo brochacho, I’d like to report in a Protocol 69.”

“Hmm,” the other side mumbled disapprovingly. “Location of the illegitimate?”

“’The Real Man’s Tools’.” I followed my answer with a dumb chuckle. I always forgot how clever the hardware store’s motto was: “…besides a woman that is!”

“Car make and model?”

“You’ll know it, bro.”

“Not American-made?”

The babe still riding my cock shoved a finger in my mouth, signaling she wanted to continue.

“Are they…evuh?” The words were barely able to escape my mouth. The officer laughed in response on the other end as she began sliding up and down my dick slowly, getting us back to where we had left off.

“Thanks for the report,” the officer replied. “Please continue yer civil duties.”

“Will do, dude.”

The line hung up on itself, which was probably for the best with my hands already being wrapped back around my current score. I felt my load tense up as it began to prepare itself for semination. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see an officer’s cruiser pull up alongside the homo’s vehicle. Looks like we were both about to bring a straight, Texan, alpha male into the world.

Branded

---

Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

---

Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

Ethan by Daniel P Photo

Growing every day for my Master. That is purpose.

-Arturo