Nipples - Blog Posts

Do y'all think my man will get excited to see me in this tomorrow?🫦

So I have been thinking....

--- Originally posted on 2023-04-04 by breedertfs --- --- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

Arabian Nectar

“Drink, brother. I see you admire, and so I assist.” Robbie, who only moments ago had a hairless jaw and pale skin, was unable to pry himself away from the perky, golden nipple he now found himself suckling from. Even beneath a swirl of dark, wiry hair, he was entranced by the salty taste and musk of Amir’s hard earned sweat. His every nerve ending seemed to come alive with every lick and slurp of the tangy flesh. The handsome man in front of him was telling the truth, after all. Robbie had been admiring the Middle Eastern hunk for most of his workout at the gym throughout the day, unable to stop himself from risking a few glances when they eventually found themselves alone together in the locker room. Robbie, horny as he might be, was a polite and sensible twink, and he would have never for a second thought that he had a chance with the obviously straight, macho Amir. His attraction was harmless. Until the tan man snapped his fingers at him, that is, commanding Robbie’s attention before lifting his sweaty tank and hooking it around his neck to reveal his plump pecs and a healthy coating of body hair.

At first Robbie was stunned, lightly aroused, but more than anything confused. It took Amir nodding his head down at his chiseled pecs to get Robbie to snap back to reality, walking forward on feet he didn’t entirely feel in control of. He could feel his heart hammering as he approached the attractive man, could feel his throat tighten at the rank scent wafting into his nostrils. Spicy and earthy, and very potent, everything about Amir seemed to be traditional and masculine. He calmly watched the white boy approach with timid steps. “Sorry for staring,” Robbie began as he closed in, meaning to stop but still stepping closer and closer to his surprise. “I was just admiring, wait wha—” Robbie startled, leaning down and forward mid-sentence as he finally came face to face with Amir’s chest. He opened his mouth to protest, to ask questions, only for Amir’s large hand to secure itself on the back of his head.

“Suck, brother.” Robbie’s open mouth was forced to close around the nipple, face pressed into the hot, ripe flesh of the stud before him. Stink play was definitely not one of his kinks, and being man-handled wasn’t doing him any favors. He tried to fight against Amir’s grip, tiny hands failing to push the slabs of meat away from him. “It is a shame to eye fuck men when you can eye fuck women, no?” As Amir spoke, each thrum of his deep voice vibrated through Robbie’s core. The twink couldn’t stop his feasting. Obediently suckling from Amir’s nipple, tongue darting out to swirl against the salty skin, lapping up every ounce of sweat. “If you wish to spend time with me as a man, it should only be as a brother.”

Robbie could feel his jaw tighten as he nuzzled against the pec, a bristle of dark hairs covering his lips and then his cheeks and eventually his entire chin. As Amir ran his fingers through Robbie’s hair, no longer pressing down quite as forcefully, the strands seemed to go on for longer than the white boy remembered. Thick, dark, luscious, being swept back into a traditional, well groomed style. His eyebrows thickened and grew heavy, dark, forming a menacing line over his currently blissed out expression. He could feel his shoulders broadening within his shirt, heat sparking up in his pits and in his crotch, a heady scent of sweat oozing from his pores to match Amir’s aromatic musk. He continued to suck, to worship, to accept the gift being presented to him. He felt obliged to follow Amir in the way a man would follow a trusted general, or a political figure. As more and more of the essence coated his insides, pouring down his throat, he began to feel less excitement about the source of the nectar and saw the pecs as a means to an end, more than anything else. Amir produced the sweetest honey, and Robbie was grateful to receive it.

But as his hips widened and his large, muscular ass stretched his tight boxer briefs to their limit, he was powerless to stop the images forming in his mind. A rational voice tried to urge him to pay attention, to realize that none of this was normal, there was no reason he should be sucking Amir’s nipple all these minutes later, and there’s no way the sensations running across his body could be real. He licked, inhaled, and more and more of Amir’s scent invaded his senses until it felt as if he was breathing in his own scent, too. Beautiful women began to appear in his mind, golden skinned and raven haired, women from his home country. He could feel his cock lengthening in his shorts, a sweaty mass of dark hair forming a forest around it, heating up with every pulse and throb. Something was wrong. All he wanted to do was get a good workout and check out a few cute guys, but now the thought of that made his lip curl in disgust. A man’s purpose in a gym should only be to improve himself, and to bond with his brothers. The white twink had been effectively replaced by a proud Middle Eastern man, broodingly handsome and more than happy to show off his hardened body to any interested female. He was every bit the kind of man Amir expected a true brother to be.

Releasing his lips from the nipple, mind blanking and resetting, new and improved personality quickly squashing the whining twink’s consciousness into a headlock at the very back of his own mind — Rahim rises to his feet, removing his shirt to reveal his muscular form, gaze looking over Amir’s shoulder and instead settling on his own reflection. Rahim was deeply traditional, the kind of man who would wait until marriage to seed a womb, but was more than happy to ass-fuck horny white women who thought they had any chance of swaying him. They were simply holes to be filled, things to be won in conquest. If you couldn’t find him eating out a white woman’s pussy, then you would find him here in the gym with his brother, Amir. He was a man of simple pleasures. They lived together in the same bachelor pad, moving to this country together many years ago for the opportunities it provided. Following in Amir’s image, life was perfect. Rahim took out his phone, walking away from his brother and going to admire his reflection in one of the locker room mirrors.

“Thank you for the wake up call, brother.” He glanced at the large amount of messages flooding his inbox, the regular hook ups begging for him to fill them up, new women hoping to try for a taste of his cum, a few ladies even asking if his brother would be open to a threesome. He only smirked, licked his lips, and recorded a short video to send to all of these chicks to appease them for now. His cock still throbbed in his shorts, ball sack swollen and full of his superior seed, but he couldn’t allow his mind to be so easily clouded by lust. “I should focus on my workout, and my time with my brother,” Rahim decided finally.

His python would surely get its satisfaction later.

--- Originally posted on 2021-01-16 by breedertfs ---

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

What You Desire: Poll Story

Personality Change. Masculine - Hairy, Dirty, Daddy. Straight to Gay. Mental Change - IQ Loss. Nerd to Jock. Muscle Growth. Race Change: Latino. Himbo TF. Changed By: Clothing/Wish Gone Wrong.

Hope y’all enjoy! More stories coming soon.

( update after the flagging issue: thank you for your patience! i reposted every image by itself to find the culprits, and i even found two variants to make up for taking them out. we should be good to go!! )

It had started off innocent. As innocent as stealing the college quarterback’s sweaty jockstrap could possibly be.

I know how it seems, but Nathan here isn’t a pervert. He doesn’t even like guys, let alone the toxic fumes that the jocks around campus seem to produce. So if you’re thinking that he stole Miguel Vega’s underwear to sniff the piss and cum-stained glory in private, you’ve got it all wrong.

If we’re being entirely honest, Nathan has always admired the jocks - in some quiet way that he’s never been able to put into words. As obnoxious as they are, always making vulgar jokes and putting fitness over their education, one fact remains true. They always get the girl.

For all their belching and farting, smashing their heads together on the football field day in and day out, Nathan can’t deny that the jocks seem to have it all figured out. They’re the big guys on campus, always surrounded by friends and bringing a new girl back to their rooms each night. And Miguel is the top dog, the boss man, the undisputed king.

As much as Nathan wants to be happy with his life, with his good grades and bright future and the strong friendships that he’s built with his teachers, well… he can’t help being envious of the other side. It’s lonely being a nerd. Only a few friends to call his own, invited to even fewer parties. Zero girls.

Maybe that frustrated horniness is what made him steal Miguel’s jockstrap. He had been helping the janitors clean out the football locker room, hoping to add some volunteer hours to his already shining resume, and then there they were, Abandoned under a bench and reeking even from a distance. The straps were strained and the pouch was stretched. Only the biggest cock could pull that off.

He grimaced as he stuffed them into the inside pocket of his hoodie without thinking, grateful for the gloves on his hands. He instantly felt dirty, the damp heat radiating against the side of his stomach, the raw smell already wafting up to his nose. He zipped up his hoodie and got back to work, but the whole time he was thinking of Miguel’s girlfriend, Cindy The head cheerleader, of course.

Nathan couldn’t help but to wonder - was Cindy attracted to Miguel’s musk? The combined force of sweat, testosterone, and gas was only making his eyes water, but his dick started to chub up when he imagined Cindy breathing in the scent of Miguel’s armpits, licking his biceps clean. That’s the kind of girlfriend he wanted. Someone wild and freaky; someone who would worship every inch of him.

But he wasn’t Miguel Vega. He was thin and tall, happy to wear his prescription glasses and button up shirts. He was Clark Kent without the alter ego, forever living his life as a shy, awkward nerd. Nathan wanted more. As much as it frightened him, he longed for Miguel’s life. To be carefree and popular, to have a body that made people want him, to have a girl like Cindy riding his cock.

That night, he stripped off his clothes and held the jockstrap in his bare hands. His features looked uncomfortable in the mirror, and for a moment he considered stopping. This was ridiculous, and gross, and he was losing himself in the fantasy. He was always going to be a nerd. He would always be forgotten, and he’d never get the girl. But he couldn’t stop… he wanted more.

All he wanted was a visual reminder of the goal he was about to set for himself, a way of looking himself in his blue eyes and telling himself that one day he could have what Miguel had. He slid the jockstrap over his long, pale legs, shivering as the sweat helped them to glide along his skin. The stretched fabric drooped on his waist, so he held it in place with a shy smile.

He stared at himself for a long while, taking in his average looks and timid personality, only to glance down and see Miguel’s jockstrap on his slender body. Breathing in the rank scent of him, letting himself imagine that it was his own. Pretending like one day his body could swell to fill the fabric, that his cock could support the large pouch. That a girl could place herself between his legs and breathe him in. Nathan’s musk. Not Miguel’s.

Nathan opened his eyes with a euphoric smile, making a promise to himself to start working out, to put less pressure on himself in his classes, to learn how to talk to girls. “I wish I was worthy of wearing these,” he whispered to himself as his fingers hooked around the straps, thrusting his hips into the soiled underwear. “I will be.”

For a moment, he imagined Miguel’s reflection staring back at him in the mirror. That’s the kind of guy he was going to become. A stud, a superstar, a king. A real pussy hound. He knew it was silly, thinking he could go from being himself to being anything like Miguel, but he had to let himself believe. It would be a long road to become worthy of wearing the star quarterback’s jockstrap.

“I wish it could happen sooner.”

And that’s when he yelped in pain, breaking free from his imagination and glancing down at the jockstrap constricting around his waist. It seemed to vibrate with life, sliding its wet fabric along his cock shaft and causing him to moan. Out of nowhere the loose underwear had become snug on him, grinding itself against him in an impossible way.

He cupped his hands over his crotch, trying to swallow down his moans, trying to ignore the energy that was swelling inside of him. “You’ll be worthy of me,” an unfamiliar voice purred in his mind, making him glance around the room in fear. “Look down at your new master.” He lowered his gaze to jockstrap, shining with a blue light, still working its sweaty fabric along his cock.

“You’ll be a stud.” Nathan gasped in pleasure, knees buckling as he crashed to the floor. The energy inside of him swelled to the surface, and he watched in shock as his body began to inflate with thick muscle. His chest ballooned out into a perky pair of pecs, his stomach became broad and firm, even his waist began to spread out, stretching the shrunken jockstrap back to its former size.

And then it kept stretching, his legs becoming massive tree trunks, his hands still pawing at his crotch. Even as his fingers became thick and meaty, his biceps swelling until they rubbed against his bloated chest. He could feel the cold floor against his ass, but even that was slowly swallowed by muscle and fat, lifting him up higher. “You think Miguel was worthy of me? I want a man.”

Nathan tried to steady himself, but his new body felt foreign and strange. Everything was rubbing against something, causing his body to keep shaking in pleasure. Even as the itching started, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling onto his stomach, thrusting against the air as dark, wiry hair broke through the surface of his skin. It spread everywhere that he could see, and where he couldn’t, he could feel the warmth of the hair sprouting into forests. He touched his sensitive nipples, piercings and tattoos manifesting out of nowhere.

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Inside the jockstrap, he felt his lengthening cock throb against the thick bush around it, and he could feel the hairs thickening beneath his arms and on his chest. It was everywhere. His ass, his face, a stinging kind of pleasure that made him let out a howl of pain and euphoria. “A grown man. The only thing Miguel had going for him was his race.”

Nathan lifted his hands to his now bearded face, still shivering in pleasure and watching as they became weathered and worn, darkening with a tan from many years out in the sun… and then darkening further, watching the complexion drip down his arms and move across his chest, over his body in waves and up past his throat. He could only imagine what was becoming of him. He knew what he was becoming.

He moved his eyes to the mirror again, seeing the last of this new change as his new beard connected with his ginger hair, staining it black as the curls became thicker and glossier, his whole body shining with sweat and dark hair, looking like he’d lived his entire life under the sun. He was glorious, and handsomely matured, the pinnacle of Latino sexiness. “You’ll be a superstar. I want sweat, and filth, and I want you to want it, too.”

There was a flash of blue light, and then something moved beneath Nathan. He looked down in shock, then at his surroundings, trying to make sense of why he was suddenly straddling another man in a room he couldn’t recognize. He felt his dick become softer, trying to remove himself from this unknown hunk, before the horny man tightened his grasp on Nathan’s waist. He smiled so sexily.

The voice came from inside his head again.

“I want men, Nathan. You want them, too. My whole existence is worshipping cock.” Nathan felt his features shift with anxiety, feeling himself come to the surface for the first time. It had been so easy to lose himself in the pleasure, enjoying every moment of what the jockstrap was making him become, but now he was afraid. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be on top of a woman, feeling her squirm beneath him. Not this meathead.

“Your whole existence is worshipping cock.”

Then his mind snapped, and he let his lust take control. The stranger cried out in pleasure as Nathan lifted the guy’s leg to get easier access to his ripe asshole. He lowered the waistband of his jockstrap and wasted no time plowing the stud on his king sized bed. “Cum on me,” he spoke in accented English, unable to take his eyes off the younger man’s cock. “Cover me with it. Please.”

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“And don’t forget worshipping pits. Ass. Anything sweaty. That’s what you and I are built for, after all.”

Nathan didn’t hesitate, still thrusting his cock in and out of the sweaty asshole as he leaned down, shoving his face into the nearest armpit. His large tongue started licking up the sweet taste, shoving his nose and entire face into the glorious warmth, making the stranger cry out in ecstasy.

“Don’t you feel like a king now? Don’t you feel worthy of me?” But Nathan couldn’t even think of a reply, he couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t a thick cock, or a man’s sweaty body. He only wanted to be used, to be worshipped, to worship in return. “I am a man. A superstar. A king.” With a shock, he recognized the deep, accented baritone in his head as his own voice. His new voice. He had been listening to himself speak the entire time.

His jockstrap started squirming again, but he ignored the feeling. He felt like a jockstrap in human form now, made to devour cock and suck up sweat, bringing home a new man each and every night, never washing the scent of them out of his beard or off his body, always reeking and stained and loving every fucking minute of it.

He started doing porn under the screen name miguelsjockstrap69, though he never introduced himself with that name. He went by Rodrigo Royale in person, a real himbo of a man that had the gay community wrapped around his thick, smelly finger. His videos were the filthiest, and he had no standards. If you had a cock, he wanted to explore every inch of it.

“So, like, who is Miguel?” his conquests would sometimes ask after filling themselves up on his pit stink, and he’d chuckle to himself and flex his huge biceps for them to worship. “Nobody important. Just an old friend.” He was a man Miguel could only dream of becoming. A stud. A superstar. A king.

Funnily enough, he had a strange habit of calling his worn out, stained yellow jockstrap Nathan - not that his hook ups or fans cared, they thought it was hot. He was always wearing that jockstrap. Getting a chance to get between Rodrigo’s legs and sniff Nathan was worth every penny, and they both loved to please. Sometimes you could even see the underwear squirming in excitement.

Maybe fear.

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“Yeah, Nathan,” Rodrigo purred in private. “You’re worthy of me now.”

hot shower hot shower

I like to draw Donna buff now and then because I think it’s hot 🥵