fredwmain

[fredwmain]

Be Like Me

You didn't really know him. Back in the day, perhaps you knew Nick Kessler, but as far as the "Nicky" Kessler he is today... He might as well have been a total stranger. You lived in the same town, you grew up together, you were in the same classes, you even were known to have hung out on occasion. But as things do, life has it's own plan. You sort of faded into the background, and he to the forefront. He Nick was quiet, reserved, even awkward at times- a stark contrast to the boisterous, playful, rambunctious little degenerate he became.

He started to come out of his shell, hang with different people, started skateboarding and discovered he was quite good. His new friends were all popular, so he became popular. Thus, you watched from afar the blossoming of Nicky Kessler, your former friend, as you stayed the same. That isn't to say that he was rude, mean spirited, a bully like some of his pals. When you passed him in the halls, he always wanted a high five, or a noogie, or to mime punch like all stupid skater dudes do. But you always felt abandoned and left alone while he skyrocketed.

After high school he seemed to make his own way, posting a lot on Tik Tok and YouTube, eventually graduating to a very successful and you imagined fairly lucrative OnlyFans. It would be fair to say you admired him, living life on his terms, dressing the way he wanted, acting the way he did... being happy the way he was. Thus on that tepid day in town, as you walked down the street, the familiar chilled out (likely stoned) young twenty-something skater immediately gave you pause.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to avoid him. You didn't want him to see you like this, the way you ended up. Some square, vanilla normie that no one would pay notice to or even think of. Admiring from afar was safe, it was anonymous. Though in your heart of hearts, you desperately wanted to be Nicky. It was never meant to be, you thought, as you quickly turned to jettison back into the safety of the sidewalk crowd. Yet, as it does, life has it's own plan.

"Ayyyy no way!" The toked out tenor timbre of his voice soared over the chatter of the city, smacking the back of your head like a lead pipe. "Is it my boy over there? Can't be!" You sighed, knowing full well your cover was blown. Turning around, your eyes met. He grinned his dopey grin and jumped to his feet, running over to wrap you in his tight hug. Nicky was a pretty lean, almost lanky guy, but years of skating and partying had him surprisingly fit and able to nearly knock the wind out of you when his slender body slammed into you.

"Heh... Hey Nick. How's it going?" Your words fell out of your mouth with the heavy weight of anxiety. He released you from his bear hug, rustling your hair through his sweaty hands.

"Ahhh, you know me man! It's Nicky to you, my dude." You looked down at your feet, chuckling to yourself. Did you know him? "I just finished up at the skate park, got a sick Airwalk on film and was gonna head home to edit it. Gotta keep up for my boys, am I right?" He slapped your shoulder with a jovial snicker. You nodded silently and smiled, unsure of what to even say. For a moment there, the silence was deafening, uncomfortably so. You could tell he was waiting for how you were doing, but your mouth had completely clamped shut. Thankfully, the silence was broken. "Ay, you got my number, right? We gonna hang sometime soon, I gotta hear all the crazy shit you been up to!" He pulled his phone out, air dropping his contact info before you even had a chance to respond. "Hit me up in a couple hours or so, yeah? Might film a little somethin' somethin' for OnlyFans, you know what I'm sayin? See you later, bro!" He slapped your back yet again, sauntering back over to the bench to pick his board up and roll away down the sidewalk.

The lingering scent of his cologne and unmistakable waft of sweat hung on you like draperies. He was known in high school for that musk, blowing off any anal retentive teacher which bothered to comment on it after he rolled into class. "I mean, teach you like it too am I right?" He'd always say, getting a chuckle out of the classmates as he plopped down in his seat up front. Everything always seemed to be so unserious. Any criticism, hate, or insult that was thrown his way just rolled off his baggy sweatshirt as if it were nothing. Each time you saw it, you were in awe. How nothing could get to him, how life was a party. Even today.

You made your way back home, taking the short route to avoid any more unexpected run ins. You shut the door and look around your apartment. It’s clean, it’s tidy, it’s indescribably boring. That smile and smell still hanging heavy on your mind, you look down at your phone. His number sat waiting for you. For the first time in forever, you throw your caution to the wind, and send him a text. Just one with your name, nothing more. You hit send and put your phone down, getting ready to go make your dinner. Less than one second passes, and you hear the ding.

Were you surprised? Yeah a bit. A guy like Nick was always up to something, you didn’t expect him to be quite so vigilant with his phone. Though as you inched closer to your phone, another ding. And then another, and another. Quickly you pick it up and unlock it.

Nicky: FUCK YEAHH DUDE! So glad to have you on the phone, man.

Nicky: Bruh, check these sunglasses out dude. A guy I collabed with left em here, hot as fuck.

Nicky: I’ll let you try em on when you get here dude. The boys are gonna think you’re me haha

It was as if your best friend was chatting you up, as if you’d been hanging out your whole lives. Nick was social alright, but you could really feel the excitement through the text. He was happy to hang out with you, not just happy; he wanted to hang out with you. You wiped the look of confusion off your face and replied asking the basic when and where.

You: Sure, what time? And where am I going?

Nicky: Just come on over, I’ll send you the address!

The ping of an address pin on your map showed him not too far away. A five minute walk at most. You wasted no time, grabbing only your keys before you walked out the door. The walk was indeed merely five minutes; before you knew it, you were standing outside the apartment building. Reading the text once more for brevity, you confirmed that Nick lived in apartment 3G. Meandering through the halls and up elevators, you did your best to quell any anxiety or preconceptions regarding your former best friend. Fighting the impostor syndrome which plagued you far beyond the social conundrum you found yourself in that day, you took a deep breath before stepping in front of the door marked 3G. Mustering your strength, you gently knocked on the door three times.

Almost immediately, the door swung open, and before you grinning from ear to ear, eyes covered by the stupid sunglasses he reappropriated and stifling his chuckles under his breath was Nick. He waved you in, and you were met with the sight of an adequate one bedroom apartment. It'd certainly been given the landlord special on more than one occasion, with a thick application of white latex paint covering switchplates, hinges, and miscellaneous fixings on the walls. The place had a certain musty smell to it. You could only compare it to cigarette smoke, freshly ground marijuana, and dirty laundry. Looking around the place, you could see where the scent emitted from all around the room. A still-smoking bong on the cluttered 1990's side table, an ashtray filled with cigarette butts on the kitchen countertop, a pile of dirty laundry shoved up against the wall next to either nine or ten pairs of beat up AirJordans.

The place was a mess, for certain. But as Nick sluggishly plopped down onto the old corduroy sofa, kicking his massive feet up onto the coffee table, it definitely fit the vibe which Nick radiated. Laid back, messy, but comfortable. You wandered over toward the sofa.

"My dude, did I not say these were fuckin' dope?" He flashed his face from side to side, showing off the stupid sunglasses.

"Yeah, man. They look great. Lucky you found them in here." He lounged back, grabbing the bong in his hand.

"Sorry bout the mess. I been goin' and goin' every day makin content, I haven't had time to pick up, you know what I mean?" He ignited the bowl, puffing out a large cloud in your face. Patting the seat next to him, you blushed ever so slightly as you sat down next to him. He smiles as he tosses his arm around your neck as he prepares to pass the bong to you. "So, my dude. What have you been u..."

Suddenly, the bong slipped from his hand, landing on your left thigh and spilling the brown bongwater all over your pants, shirt, and shoes. There was a moment of complete silence which fell over you two, before Nick began to burst into laughter. You, on the other hand were less than amused.

"Shit man, my bad. I've been hitting this for too long huh?" He laughed and slapped your shoulder. "I'll borrow you some clothes. Better than lookin' like you wet yourself, hah!" He jumped up and trudged over to the pile of laundry, ruffling through it. From over his shoulder, Nick tossed an old tee shirt, a grey sweatshirt, a pair of old blue Jordans. You look down at them with a quiet grimace, the dampness of the fabric betraying just how 'dirty' his laundry was.

"Looks like I'll be wet anyway..." You mutter under your breath, the wet scent of summer sweat and masculine musk wafting from the threads into your nose. Nick laughs jovially, shoving you to your feet and guiding you to the bathroom. His smile was sincere as the door shut behind you; despite his wild success and weirdly stunted mental age locked at 21 forever, he still maintained that genuine charm that you couldn't help but crave more of. In a way, he was the exact same Nick that he was in high school: endlessly lucky and effortlessly fun. Looking down at your stained clothes, you decided it would be rude to deny this gracious gesture and began to shuck your shirt and pants. Alas, even your underwear had to go- the stench of hash and fermenting bongwater had permeated even through your jeans. Looking around, you see Nick's used zebra print thong on the sink, huffing as you try to stifle the stiffy which had slowly been growing harder and harder as you breathed in the radiating musk.

Sighing, you snatch the thong off it's perch and slide it up your thighs. Nick was a slender guy and luckily for you, outside the wet G-string, he wore baggy clothes. You hope they'll fit better as you struggle to shove your hardening member into the small pouch. You look down at your hands, shiny with your best bro's sweat. As if moving altogether on their own, your sticky fingers approach your nose, as you take a big whiff of damp skater funk and tangy leftover spunk which coated the inside. You shudder, every huff releasing endorphin after endorphin. Not only was the smell growing on you... you were starting to feel as if you needed it.

You smile as you pull up his stained, baggy Carhartt workpants, laughing as they hang off your waist like two stovepipes, held up only by your plump but tight peach in the rear. You paw at your sizeable bulge, a sticky spot of pre slowly manifesting through the tightly woven denim. Maybe Nicky had the right idea with this whole street-casual thing, as you slipped on his dank old tee shirt the slightly cool moisture which slid across your skin like melted butter felt as if this was the way it was always meant to be: au naturale. Your long, slender arms found their way into the grey sweatshirt which draped across your skinny frame quite nicely. You couldn't help but smile- you looked fucking fantastic. That tanned, smooth skin you pride yourself on just felt at home in your bro's threads.

You sit down on the tile floor, shoving your feet into the massive Jordans, savoring that slimy, sticky sensation as your sole presses against the broken-in, comfy insole. Feeling Nicky's foot funk penetrate into every crevice and pore on your size 13 feet. You vaguely recall a memory from back in the day, where after skating, the two of you were roughhousing at his place and being the dopey lil punk he is, he would relish in his inevitable victory of shoving his smelly, beat up Chucks onto your face. Even more vague and dim was the memory of you tossing the fight to get just one more huff. You two had always been close, the best of friends really.

Though you didn't intend to, you couldn't help but accessorize, slipping on various pieces of Nicky's jewelry to tie it all together. Sharing is caring, and the look required it anyway. Smiling, you pull out your phone taking a snapshot of your new fit, as if you hadn't borrowed his clothes on the reg.

You whip around after one final grope of your throbbing and leaking bulge and saunter out of the bathroom. In the back of your hazy mind, you feel as if you haven't felt this good and authentic for a long time. Confusing, as you and Nicky hang constantly- you're basically attached at the sweaty hip. It's not as if you haven't raided his closet before, haven't felt his sour-saccharine sweat enveloping your lithe body. Walking into the living room once more, he sat stretched out on the couch, smiling from ear to ear.

"Ayyyyyyy look at my boy! All comfy and lookin' fine as fuck." You two fist bump as you collapse onto the sofa next to him, feeling his arm around the back of your neck. You snag the bong from the table, taking another rip from the 'chill machine' as you two know it. Mid exhale, you feel a pair of warm lips press against the nape of your neck and hear Nicky's soft whisper in your ear. "I got a present for ya. A lil' treat." A thump rings out in the room, his worn, beat up Jordans had hit the floor, and now resting on the tabletop among the various clutter were his sticky, sopping wet feet. The tsunami of moist heat bellowing from the shining sweat on his wrinkled soles thrust into your nostrils, a fervent reminder of your favorite 'friendly' pastime with Nicky. He chuckled under his breath as he swung his huge feet onto your lap, prodding your chin and the tip of your nose with his big toe.

You parted your lips, taking in one of those hot-as-hell toes into your mouth, sucking it until you felt him smile again. You were a foot fetishist's dream come true, and once Nicky had found out about that, he was always more than happy to oblige your filthy desires that he shared. His sweaty, stinking toes would go straight into your mouth, and when you finished...you'd get another. And another. Oh yes, and another!

"Mmmm," Nicky moaned as you sucked his toe clean. "Brooooo. You always looked so cute with your face smothered in my feet." You lapped up every drop of slimy footjuice, as he pressed his feet firmly against your head, teasingly massaging and pinching your skin between his toes. With his other hand, he reached down towards the bulge in his crotch, jerking his cock off as he watched you lick his feet. He pulled away, your skin seemingly stuck against the skin of his sole with glue. Nicky smirked with a cocky rise of the corner of his supple lips, watching as your face stretched and warped between his toes. It snapped back to place, ever so slightly sharper in definition. Whenever Nicky started playing with your body, sculpting it to his whim, you were thrilled to see the result.

You two were always finding new ways to explore the kinky needs each of you desperately desired. A new face whenever he willed it. A new body whenever he willed it. Waiting for the right match to finalize his perfect partner. Until then, you'd be forever changing. Forever being molded. Forever being broken apart. Forever being put back together. His cock twitched inside his pants, making a soft squelching sound as he wanked himself.

"I gotta say bro, I'm likin' what I'm makin' tonight. Might have to keep this one around for a while." He ran his fingers through your lengthening hair, feeling your sweaty locks fall gently against your strong shoulders. Your tattoos glistened and shimmered under the beadlets of sweat which had all but covered your entire body within his ripe threads. Nicky laughed, licking his lips as he stood up. He planted a kiss on your thin lips, his tongue exploring your mouth, happily chirping as the flavors of his own footsweat and your sweet saliva mingled on his tongue. He gripped his large, heavy balls, squeezing them together as he shot his load, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your face.

It dripped down your cheeks and your lips, dripping from your chin as it oozed over your sharp jawline. This was your life. An airheaded stoner skater who would do anything to keep his fantasy alive. You'd never let anyone else have such control over your body or mind apart from him. You loved it. You lived for it. And now, with Nicky's cum still dribbling down your chin, you smiled at him, showing him just how much you loved him. The two of you stood up in a huff, smirking in lust as you entered the bedroom and shut the door.

---

The next few weeks were full of huge changes for you. You moved into your boyfriend's grody apartment and quit your dead end job to join him on his OnlyFans and livestreams. The money was more than enough to sustain you and Nicky, even if you had to take on odd jobs to make ends meet. You were always horny as hell, and Nicky would never turn you down. Whether you were bent over a table, lying on your stomach on the bed, or sprawled out on the floor, he was there to give you the dicking down you desperately needed. He was there to dress you up in his musky street clothes, or to make you wear his skimpy little thong before he took you out to the beach. You'd never been happier, and you were sure Nicky was too.

#reblog #idesofrevolution #dumber tf #male tf #musk tf #stoner tf #feet kink tf

[fredwmain]

The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

#reblog #jockbroski34 #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf #musk tf #himbo tf #bro tf

[fredwmain]

Drip.

Wade peered through his large glasses at the murky white-ish liquid falling from his ceiling into the bucket.

Drip

He gave a sigh of annoyance as his expensive gaming laptop whirred to life, grumbling about having to call maintenance and however much he was paying for this place.

Drip.

Wade’s nose wrinkled as a slight whiff of BO reached his nose. “Ugh” he shivered, reaching his arm up to check his pit. Dry. Huh. Wade turned back to his laptop, typing the first line of his email before—

Drip.

The sound echoed off the bare walls as the smell assaulted him again. “What the hell?” Wade turned around again and set his laptop on the desk, peering into the bucket.

Drip.

Wade gagged as another wave of that god awful BO stench hit him in the face, but then he paused, staring down at the murky off-white liquid slowly filling the bucket.

Drip.

He sniffed again, breathing a little deeper. The smell had become more intense as the bucket began to fill up and—

Drip.

His brow furrowed as he let a little more of the smell in, the bucket beginning to smell like a locker room or a runner’s pit on a hot summer day. "W-Wait" Wade stammered. How did he know what that would smell like?

Drip.

The odor made his eyes flutter slightly as he stared down at the bucket, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Drip.

“Mmmm” Wade breathed deeply, his mind blurring at the edges. It was becoming harder to think the more of the manly musk he let in. He blinked, feeling the front of his jeans tent slightly, his vision going dark…

Drip. Drip. Drip….

“Ahh! Wade shot awake. How long had he been here? His mind darted, it was dark outside now.

Drip.

His eyes peered back at the bucket, now half full, gagging again at the smell, posters now peeling off the walls, the surfaces slick with some sort of liquid.

“Agh!” Wade brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit as he raced to the door, jiggling the slick handle only to find it locked.

“W-what…” Wade started to panic as the fuzziness began to return to his mind, turning slowly to face the leak.

Drip.

Wade breathed deeply, letting the scent of a hundred sweaty jockstraps enter him, the wave of stench sending him to his knees. His vision blurred as his mouth hung open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the fumes sent a shock through his body, causing his member to tent his pants, straining against the denim.

Drip. Drip.

He moaned as he unzipped his jeans, letting his throbbing erection spring free as he shucked his shirt and jacket, throwing them across the room.

Drip.

As the stench of stale sweat washed over him, his mind melted into the puddle of musk. His eyes rolled involuntarily as his head lolled back, his dick already dripping with precum.

Compelled by some force, the nerd began to pull his pale, thin body across the floor towards the bucket, with each breath feeling like he was inhaling a locker room’s worth of ripe, cheesy musk.

His hand gripped the bucket, bringing the rim to his nose and inhaling the fumes, moaning into the rim as his body shook. His eyes fluttered again as his hand gripped his cock as he began to stroke.

It was impossible for him to think, the only thing he could feel was the smell, his mind becoming mush.

He couldn't stop his hand, his strokes speeding up as the scent of musk filled his mind, his hand moving faster and faster, the scent filling him with a primal urge, his body writhing on the floor, his mind a blurry mess as he stroked himself faster, his mind lost to the musky aroma.

Despite the small part of his brain telling me not to, Wade knew what to do, reaching out his tongue to catch one of the drops.

Drip.

Instantly, his body was wracked with heat. Wade fell back onto the floor as sweat began to pour out of his pores as if he had just finished a long, grueling game in the heat. His glasses were quickly coated in a layer of steam, making the world around him blurry.

He didn't care.

Wade continued to stroke himself, his body tensing as his hands moved faster and faster, the sensation building up in his abdomen.

Drip.

More. He needed more. More of that intoxicating smell. Wade pulled himself across the floor towards the bucket, lifting himself so his lips could lap up the sweaty droplets.

The taste was incredible.

Wade's eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as the taste of the pure, unadulterated musk exploded across his tongue. His hand pumped his cock faster and faster as he lapped at the bucket. He could barely think, the taste sending him over the edge.

Wade let out a loud moan as his body began to shake, the smell sending his body into overdrive. He could barely hear his own screams of pleasure over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, as he started to feel his body change.

His arms were the first to feel the effects. The skinny limbs started to bulge, his muscles growing larger, thicker, and stronger. Wade could barely notice, his mind lost in the smell. His body was shaking, his back arching as his torso expanded, his stomach becoming rock hard, his pecs becoming two firm mounds, his shoulders becoming broader.

Drip.

Wade continued to moan as he felt his chest grow heavier, his pecs growing into large, round melons. He could barely think, the sensation was so overwhelming. He couldn't stop stroking, his cock continuing to grow, his balls becoming two large, swollen orbs. His hair was plastered to his head, the sweat dripping from his body.

He could feel his body changing, his muscles growing, his ass becoming rounder, his hips becoming wider. His cock continued to grow, his balls becoming larger and larger, until they were obscene and drooping.

Drip.

Wade was a sweaty, writhing mass on the floor, his body shaking, his cock leaking precum. His hair was plastered to his face, growing longer and unkempt as the sweat poured down his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out.

Drip.

Wade groaned and whimpered as more drops began to fall from the ceiling, landing on his chest and causing his muscles to clench, his back arching. The sweat dripped down his face, his neck, his chest, his back, his arms, his legs, his feet, his toes, his fingers.

Drip.

Every drop caused his muscles to spasm, his body convulsing, his cock leaking more precum. His pecs were so large, he could barely see over them. His ass was so round, he couldn't even sit properly.

Drip.

His entire body was covered in sweat, his entire body dripping with it. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock twitching.

Drip.

He moaned and whimpered as his face cracked and changed, becoming model-like, his glasses breaking and falling to the floor.

Drip.

He groaned, the scent sending his mind into overdrive, his body twitching and convulsing. His muscles were so large, they were bursting through his clothes.

Drip.

Every muscle in his body was on fire, his body drenched in sweat. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by the scent.

Drip.

He gasped as he felt his mind go blank, his body shaking as he came. His orgasm was so powerful, his balls contracted, forcing the cum to spurt out of his cock. The force was so great, the stream of cum flew through the air, covering the room.

Drip.

"Ah!" Wade gasped as the drops fell onto his skin, sending waves of pleasure through his body, his cock spraying his seed all over the room.

Drip.

The drops kept falling, causing Wade's orgasm to continue, his body shaking. He could barely think, his mind was swimming as all paths of higher thought were permanently wiped away, replaced by an unending desire to bury himself in the pits and crotches of sweaty men. His hair grew out, becoming blonde and shaggy, signifying his permanent change.

Drip.

It was not for hours that he finally left the house; but the Wade who walked in would never return.

#tidetfs #reblog #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf #musk tf #sweat tf #bro tf

[fredwmain]

Hey man, quick question.

Sorry, uh I have to get to work…

Come on… it’s for a quick survey. Just one question. Can’t you help a guy out?

Err fine. But have to make this quick.

Sure thing. Just wanted to know. How would you define a dumb jock?

Huh??

Come on humor me.

Ok fine. Well a jock usually means someone who is fit, likes to get to the gym.

Sure thing. Kinda like you no?

Me? No I mean, sure I guess I work out a little, but stereotypical jocks are kind of vapid, really into getting bigger, and into their own bodies, and when I think of a jock I usually think of guys in college.

Yeah totally get that. Still seems kinda like you but go on.

Well yeah, I work hard on this body, but also on school. Dumb jocks, well they’re like dumb and cocky, saying things like bro all the time, into flexin in the mirror, showing off, and stuff like that. Not much in their heads but thinking about muscle and sex. Ya know?

Sure do. I mean that’s totally you no? And are dumb jocks all straight?

Huhu bro like they don’t have to be. They can totally be into cock or fucking a good ass. They’re like so horny and obsessed with fuckin. Like can’t think of nothin else but sex and their massive jock cocks huhu

So what do ya think is a dumb jock?

Huhu like bro. Check me out. Ain’t too smart huhu. But got the bod and the cock. So we gonna fuck or what?

#reblog #papermoon357 #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf #jock tf

[fredwmain]

Personal Assistant

Cameron looked away from the TV screen as his phone indicated a new message.

"Xavier"... he muttered under his breath. Cameron hadn't heard from Xavier since high school. Well, to be honest, they didn't have too much contact even then: Xavier had been more or less the exact opposite of Cameron: Where Cameron had been lazy, Xavier had always been studying. Xavier graduated with top grades, while Cameron managed not to flunk anything.

Naturally, after high school they didn't have much contact anymore. While Xavier was pretty successful by now and was head of a small research company - or so he heard-, Cameron worked several jobs, never staying long enough to make something of himself.

Curious, he picked up his phone and opened the message.

"Hey Cam! Xavier here. I heard you're looking for a job?"

Cameron frowned. He *hated* being called 'Cam', at least after that comedy show with the gay fatty who went by 'Cam'. Given, Cameron was not exactly *fit* either, but at least he was straight. And at some point, women would recognize his true value and be all over him.

The rest was true though. Cameron was "between jobs" again, after he got fired from the local supermarket for taking too many breaks and "slacking".

"Yeah?" he replied, not really sure why Xavier was contacting him now.

"I might have an opportunity for you." was the prompt answer.

Cameron sighed and removed some Cheeto crumbs from his dirty undershirt. He didn't like Xavier very much, but this would at least allow him to skip applications and interviews this time.

"I'm listening." he wrote back.

"Great. How about I explain everything to you in person? Are you free tomorrow at 9?"

Cameron groaned. 9 am? That was really early. However, if it was the only time Xavier had, then so be it.

"Sure." he wrote back.

Xavier sent him an address in the industrial area of the town and Cameron confirmed the meeting.

Having exhausted the amount of effort he was willing to put into the day, he grabbed a soda from the fridge, settled on the sofa and returned to watching TV.

Cameron arrived a little late the next morning. He didn't really have any proper clothes, so, he was dressed in his least dirty t-shirt that hung onto his potato-shaped body. It had some obscure gaming reference on it, but the colors had already begun to fade, and the shirt was missing the neckband.

Xavier's workplace was a modern office building, and although the secretary at the reception looked at him critically, she had no objections to let him in.

Xavier's office was spacious, with a large window and a comfortable looking sofa and desk.

Cameron had to admit that Xavier had done well for himself, but the effort required to maintain this lifestyle was obviously not worth it.

"Hey Cam!" Xavier greeted him and shook his hand.

Cameron nodded and greeted his former classmate, who didn't look too different, only older and somewhat fitter.

Xavier took a good look at Cameron and smiled. "Perfect", he said more to himself before gesturing for Cameron to sit down.

Cameron slumped down on the couch and cut straight to the point: "You said you have a job for me?"

"That's right." Xavier answered. It is kind of a multi-job, actually. You see, we are working on some high value products here, and that makes me a valuable person, so I need someone to offer some personal protection for external meetings."

Before Cameron could interject, Xavier continued. "Also, for other times, I need a personal assistant for my every needs. And, finally, the beforementioned product needs to be tested in a long term evaluation, so this is where you would come in, too."

Cameron frowned. "A bodyguard? And an assistant?" He had never done something like that, and he didn't really feel qualified for it.

"Don't worry." Xavier explained. "I am sure you are the perfect candidate for the job."

"The job*s*." Cameron stressed. How much do you pay?

Xavier smiled a thin smile and wrote down a number on a piece of paper. As he gave it to Cameron, he added: "I am well aware that these are three jobs, really, so I'm prepared to pay thrice the usual amount."

Cameron looked at the number and felt dizzy. That was a high number. Really, really high.

"What about the testing thing?"

"Don't worry about that. It will not require too much work from you."

"Okay." Cameron agreed. "When can I start?"

The job sounded like a lot of work, honestly, but the pay was just too good to pass on it. And if it turned out to be too much of a hassle, he could always quit or slack off until he was fired.

"Right away! I have already taken the liberty of preparing the paperwork. Here it is."

With that, Xavier produced a stack of paper with loads of narrowly printed text.

Cameron frowned. "Do I need to sign this all?"

"Of course. Don't worry, it's nothing special. Just some basic agreements about confidentiality and so on. Take your time to read it, of course."

Cameron thumbed through the surely 100 pages of text and shook his head. "Na, no need, just tell me where to sign."

"Are you sure?" Xavier smiled. "I don't mind waiting until you have read it all."

"All good. I trust you." Cameron said, although he really didn't. But he couldn't be bothered reading a fricking novel, too.

Xavier shrugged and directed Cameron to five places to put his signature on. As he did, the papers disappeared in Xavier's folder.

"Alright. Now, we just have to administer the product and we're done."

With that, Xavier produced a small syringe. Cameron recoiled. "Whoa, hold on. What's that supposed to be?"

"Oh, this?" Xavier held the syringe casually between two fingers. That's the product you agreed to evaluate. Don't worry, though, it has already successfully passed several studies. Think of it as a long lasting cup of coffee."

Cameron reluctantly agreed and rolled up his sleeve. Xavier administered the drug with a practiced gesture.

"Now, that's done." he said, packing away the empty syringe. "Please wait a few minutes here to be certain that there are no side effects."

Cameron nodded and stayed where he was - a discipline he was most proficient in.

After some minutes, he was starting to feel hot and dizzy.

Just as he was about to say something, Xavier asked him:

"Alright, I'm just gonna ask you a few questions to check up on you. First question: What's your name?"

"Cameron." he replied, slightly slurred.

"Correct. Do you mind if I call you Cam?"

"I hate being called Cam. Please don't." Cameron said, surprised by his own honesty.

"Incorrect. You actually like being called Cam, especially by me. Now, do you mind if I call you Cam?" Xavier asked again.

"No. Please, do." Cam answered, even more slurred.

"Perfect. Next question: Do you think I am sexy?"

"What? No!" Cam replied, without even thinking.

"Incorrect. You find me extremely sexy. I am the most handsome man you have ever seen. Now, do you think I am sexy?"

"Y-yes..." Came mumbled, unsure where these thoughts were coming from. But it was true. Although he was straight, Xavier was looking incredibly handsome, now that he thought about it.

"Wonderful. In fact, you find all men hot, but I in particular am the definition of sexiness. Women don't do anything for you, do you understand?"

"Yeah..." Cam moaned, and he noticed that his cock was slowly becoming erect.

"Great. Stand up, please."

Cam complied and stood up from the couch, his hard-on straining against his pants.

Xavier nodded and stood up, too. After a critical look all around, he asked: "You're not very fit, Cam, are you?"

Cam looked down on his belly. "No." he answered.

"Incorrect. You are the epitome of fitness. You work out regularly, and your body shows. You are proud of your abs and the bulging muscles. And, you are a top, not a bottom. Show me your sixpack."

Cam took his shirt off. Miraculously, he watched as his upper body changed to fit Xavier's expectations: His stomach became flat, then ribbed with abdominal muscle while his chest hardened into two slabs of muscular pecs. His face cleaned up as well, and his hair styled itself into a perfect modern style. Cam's arms and legs ballooned out with muscle and grew further apart as his stance widened and his shoulders grew broader.

Xavier nodded in appreciation.

"Good. So much about your torso. But as a personal assistant, I expect you to take care of my every need. Do you have a big dick?"

"Not really." Cam admitted.

"Incorrect. Your cock is gigantic, and the biggest and thickest you have ever seen."

Xavier didn't need to tell him twice: As Cam was looking down, he saw that his jeans were now bursting with a thick shaft. The bulge that was snaking down his right leg left absolutely nothing to imagination, and he could see the outline of his massive balls.

"Good. Get rid of your pants so I can see properly."

Cam quickly undid his belt and pulled his jeans down. The outline of his huge, rock-hard member was clearly visible in his tight boxer shorts.

"Impressive." Xavier decided.

"Now, one last thing. Are you an independent thinker?"

"No? I guess not?"

"Incorrect. You are, in fact, the exact opposite of an independent thinker. You don't think much, and you only do what I tell you. I am your superior in every sense of the word. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" Cam replied, a bit too eager.

Xavier chuckled. "Sir, huh? Alright, that is the proper way of addressing me, I suppose."

He gave Cam a critical once-over and nodded.

"I think that's about it. Remember, you are here to serve my every need, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Great. Now, your whole transformation made me horny. I want you to fuck me, hard. Have you understood that, Cam?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then, do it."

Xavier turned around, pulled down his pants and leaned over the sofa.

Cam quickly discarded his boxers and positioned his hard cock at Xavier's hole. It was already wet, but Cam still took a moment to lube it up generously before pushing his meat into the offered asshole.

Both men groaned from pleasure as Cam entered, and as soon as he bottomed out, he began to move his hips in a powerful thrusting motion that would have been way beyond his physical capabilities half an hour ago. Cam didn't think about it - in fact, he didn't think much at all - but every fiber of his being was devoted to serve his new boss, in every sense of the word.

Cam fucked his boss, and he knew that this was exactly what he wanted to do. Xavier was moaning from the powerful motions, and Cam was groaning from the sheer effort.

After a while, Cam's powerful thrusts made Xavier cum. Only then he withdrew from his bosses ass and allowed himself to cum as well, all over his sculpted body.

"Wonderful, Cam." Xavier said, exhaustedly. "Truly wonderful."

It was pretty hard to decide on the final pictures for Cam! I uploaded 20 variants to my tip jar.

#reblog #artificial-transmutations #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf #sub tf

[fredwmain]

Can you make a jock version of the himbo maker ai like the jock like jockstraps sports and doesnt have body hair and is popular.

I don't plan to make more chatbots at the moment, sorry! My interest in them has waned a lot since last year. If you would like, I can share Himbo Maker's advanced definition, which you could use as a base to edit and train your own bot. That does sound like a bot that I could have fun playing with if you were to make it ;)

#not a story

[fredwmain]

Hey ! I'm thinking of starting a tf blog like your but i'm wondering where you find the pictures for your stories ? Is it just guys you find on Twitter and insta ?

Yeah, it's almost all screenshots from Instagram, with a few images followers send me. I hear Pinterest is also a good source. I find that if a pic can get through Instagram's filters it can almost always get through the Tumblr censor. Not always, of course. Just let the men infect your Explore tab :P

Congratulations on trying out a tf blog! I'm excited to read your stories, please send them to me when they're up. I'm always happy to chat about writing in private messages as well <3

#not a story #tf writing advice

[fredwmain]

Tenor Troubles

Masculinization spurred by a going from a Tenor to a Bass, bit of an odd one but hope you enjoy! -Occam

Max probably should have read his contract more closely. He knew that grad students across the board were getting shafted, but the agreement he has with the College of Fine Arts was some next level exploitation. He prided himself on his voice, being able to sing higher than even most of the Altos he has previously studied alongside. But his degree plan on the already signed contract suggests he is going to be enrolled as a Bass in the graduate program. Clearly there has been some misunderstanding that he’ll just need to work out with the department.

He knocks on the door of his advising professor and without waiting for a come in he bursts through the doors to see the man who is both his boss and professor staring at him less than pleased. Max’s face reddens in embarrassment and before he can even open his mouth to speak, Dr. Reyes addresses him.

“Maxwell is it. I trust you have a reason for barging into my office? I ask that you take more care towards decorum in the future.”

Max stumbles through an apology before getting to the matter at hand. “Y- yes of course I’m so sorry doctor it won't happen again, I swear.” He raises his eyes to his professor’s stern gaze, flinching back slightly as he goes on, “it’s just that, um, it looks like there was some kind of mix-up with my enrollment, I mean clearly you can tell I’m a Tenor right?” He raises his tone slightly and smiles awkwardly as he tries to make it clear to the man across from him that he certainly does not have the range.

Dr. Reyes rubs his beard, briefly covering his own mouth and wiping a smile from his face. “Well now Maxwell, there does seem to be a mismatch between your vocal training, and your preferred classes and yada yada,” waving his hands dismissively as Max’s face stains a deeper shade of scarlet by the second. Reyes goes on, “I'll see what I can do but all these changes take time If you must change your plan it’ll be at least a week. Until then if you could see to it that you fulfill the TA demands asked of you and attend your classes hm? You are under contract are you not?” The image of his signature at the bottom of contract feels burned into his retinas as he starts to reply, “well yes but-” An alarm goes off on the professor’s desk. “Very well Maxwell, if you would excuse me.”

Dr. Reyes makes his way to the next class smiling as he too thinks of the fine print of Maxwell's contract. ‘The student will become what the program asks of him.’ What a dunce one must be to sign that without an inquiry. Giving one last glance behind him to see the small student shaking with rage at the series of events, veins appearing to bulge out of his neck as he thinks about chasing after his professor, almost taking a step before grasping at his head. Max doubles over and grunts, after a painful second he rises once more and sees his advising professor enter a classroom. He exhales through his nose and walks to the concert hall with the undergraduate Bass students, the course he is, both legally and otherwise, compelled to assist with. 

The Next Week

Max is inches away from just dropping out. He was well-prepared to be constantly stressed from grad school but the wrench of working with students who don’t respect him and professors that are expecting him to sing alongside the rest of these professional bassists, it’s impossible! Dr. Reyes must be doing some sick joke on him, there is no reason it should be so difficult to fix this! He shouldn’t be graded for the university’s mistake. Beyond the looming threat of flunking these courses for his inaptitude he is also constantly hungry. His stomach rumbles and sends pangs through his body as he sits through each course on vocal instruction. He succumbs to stress-eating assuming one plate must fall and it may as well be his waistline.

Every time he indulges in his hunger he finds weight almost immediately piles on. Alongside his meticulously honed falsetto he has always enjoyed just how tight and small he kept his twinkish figure, though this begins to slip as he finds himself straining his tight pants and his stomach showing through his button ups.

The final issue lies precisely in his private vocal practice, in lieu of the training his program should guarantee. As he goes about practicing the arias and vocalizations that he typically uses as warmups he finds himself struggling to hit the highest notes. He works his way through them slowly and slips up, finding his range is peaking out much lower than it ever should. He grimaces and refuses to deign and see if his range has increased in the other direction. He goes note by note, taking his time to feel the stress and vibrations of his vocal chords. Reaching the pinnacle of the piece he strains to hit the high note and his voice promptly cracks. He feels a tear. He coughs and gasps for air concerned that he has truly injured himself. 

When no blood or further pain reveals itself Max finally clears his throat and drinks a glass of water. He tests his voice, “Uhhhh-” forcing his hand over his mouth before even getting a full syllable out. Eyes watering as he hears his voice is unmistakably deeper than it was not a minute ago. This spurs him to action as he storms to the college and bangs on the door of Dr. Reyes.

For his part Reyes is sitting at the desk finishing an email and grinning as he hears the banging grow only more fervent at his door. He finishes his email almost laughing at how effective he is at controlling the man at the door. Knock as he may he could not storm in if he wanted to, as he must desperately. Closing his laptop and reaching to grab a tea bag from within his desk he calls to allow Max entry, “Do come in Maxwell.”

Stomping into the room, unaccustomed to the new weight he carries, which Dr. Reyes is all too pleased to notice. He takes a deep breath as he prepares to shout at the professor, his chest growing as his already prodigious lungs expand. Before finishing though Reyes raises a finger and strikes him passive and mute. “Now Max, why don’t you have a seat.” He clenches his hands with a furor and sits, stewing in his mind while also rapt with attention. “How have you been liking your classes?” Max continues to sit silently watching as the prepare a pot of tea, beginning to forget his ire as he looks on in confusion at the man. Reyes turns once more and rolls his eyes, “Well go on.”

Shaking out of it Max finally starts clearing his throat a few times hoping the voice he has worked so hard to protect and train will return “I, ugh- Sorry it’s ugh!” Dr. Reyes leans against his desk and steeps the tea bag, eyebrows raised with a thin smile on his face. Failing to speak as he so wishes the rage returns to Max and he shouts out, “It’s my fucking voice! I came here to learn and all these classes are just a waste of my fucking time!”

Reyes pours the tea into a large mug and sets it in front of his student, “Now now, if you were having voice problems why didn’t you just say so Max. I am a professional after all! Have some of this and I’m sure it will set you right as rain.” The professor watches as Max grasps the mug and stares into it. He remembers that Reyes was already preparing it when he came in. But it’s not as if his advisor would do something truly untoward right? Sensing the hesitation Dr. Reyes’ eyes darken and he commands, “I did say to drink it did I not.”

Max quickly raises the glass and sips. His eyes remain dark and he continues, “what seems to be the problem with your voice young Maxwell?” Taking a break from drinking he starts to explain all of his troubles to the man who should be looking out for him. Gesturing to his clearly larger body, Reyes notices beyond the weight gain that the sitting man is adjusting himself as his pants begin to grow even tighter, his ankles growing exposed as if his legs were lengthening. 

He continues to stumble onward with his recollection, forgetting what exactly bothered him enough to storm in. Reyes half-listens and takes care to refill the tea cup as needed, taking in the physical changes to the man rambling and wondering just how far they will be able to go. Eventually Reyes speaks up, “you were having trouble with your voice, yes Maxwell?”

Max’s eyes glimmer with recognition and he almost jumps with a start, “Yes! That was it I couldn’t sing the part I auditioned with in Nessun Dorma and I was-” His professor interrupts as he takes a big swing at Max’s psyche, “Is that so? What were you doing singing that Maxwell, that’s for tenors.” As if a grenade went off in his mind Max struggles to reconcile and remember what his problem was, did he not audition as a Tenor? But he couldn’t sing high to save his life right? Or no. 

Reyes watches as Max’s brow grows sweaty in his inner struggle. He physically raises the cup to Max’s mouth helping him finish the entire pot of tea. Confident that the man before him is far enough gone to only latch on his words, Reyes offers him a bone, “which side of your range are you struggling with boy.” Feeling emasculated by the professor infantilizing him he feels an urge to test his lower range. Reyes sees the resolve in Max’s eyes and challenges him, “Go on, sing your lowest note, now.” Max takes a deep breath and produces a sonorous note sustaining it far better than he would have ever expected himself to. 

Reyes smiles and shoots to plant another seed, “Well now Maxwell, I’m not quite sure what the problem is then. Your range seems to be what any trained Baritone’s should be.” The word Baritone echoes through Max’s head as he once more grows paralyzed in his own mind. He ekes out a “B- Baritone?” his voice cracking even deeper as he freezes. Reyes watches as his eyebrows knit together in confusion, they seem to grow thicker as they near each other.

Vocal range and masculinity don’t inherently match one-to-one but the professor is more than happy to allow it, staring as the weight from Max’s stomach begins to slightly redistribute itself, it slides up his chest, straining the buttons near his collar. Reyes shifts to look at Max’s face, eyes lingering on the Adam's apple making itself unmissable on his neck. He sees peach fuzz growing on Max’s upper lip and sideburns. Thoroughly pleased with the acceleration he has achieved today an alarm once more goes off on his phone and he readies to send his protege off. 

“Maxwell dear, I thank you for your patience. Of course I know that you’d prefer to be with the other Baritone student’s though I am sure you are learning valuable information working outside your comfort zone hm? I’m sure we’ll have this snafu fixed by next week.” Max just stares in a stupor as he stares at his professor, the empty mug of tea still in his hand before he sets it down to scratch at his tighter shirt. Dr. Reyes offers him a kerchief to wipe the drool from his mouth as he leads him out of his office, “Why don’t you try your warm ups, I’m sure they’ll set you right as rain.” 

Just as he did last time he takes one last look at his growing student as he begins to wander down the hall, his pants swiftly turning from slacks to tight capris. He hears the echo of the man humming to himself as he walks down the hallway to his own office hours. He’ll need to be ready for whatever his Bass performance students need right? Can’t have them out showing him even if he’s still working outside his comfort zone. Just one more week of this and he’ll get to show off to the Baritones, once more with his choral cohort.

The Next Week

Dr. Reyes stays abreast of how his star pupil is doing this week. He visits during private lessons and checks into lectures on music theory and rehearsals. He hears the man force his voice to be stronger. After any challenge he hears the man force himself to be louder. When struggling with curriculum, surely impeded by the doctor’s manipulation, he clutches at his head as his body surges larger, tightening clothes that were already sizes too large when he started his education here.

He sees Max looking at his reflection in the mirror of a practice room. He checks his beard from every angle, tilting his head up to see his large Adam's apple and smirks watching it vibrate as he hums. He unbuttons yet another button of his shirt, allowing an even greater view of his pecs as thick chest hair spills outward. Reyes hears his voice power through the soundproofed room as he approaches. He has clearly decided to leave Baritone behind without any prodding as he endeavors to show off his talents despite ostensibly singing to himself. 

Dr. Reyes knocks on the door of the practice room and like an eager dog Max falls over himself to answer it. He now stands taller than his professor whose head now lies directly at the hairy pecs spilling from his opened shirt. Max’s eyes glimmer as he looks down to the smug face of the professor. He quickly sits down to lower himself below the doctor and eagerly awaits whatever is soon to spill from Reyes’ mouth.

“I must say Maxwell, you have truly outdone yourself. Truly you hold one of the most powerful Bass voices I have heard in my time.” Max sits quietly, his heart racing with excitement from such kind words. He struggles to stay silent, lest he speak out of turn, though he cannot hide the rumble in his chest as his deep breaths accelerate. The doctor struggles to keep it together as he sees a pulse in the unmistakable, currently growing, bulge in Max’s pants. He briefly wonders if he’s gone too far, before looking back to the man’s face, seeing his eyes still staring directly into him waiting.

Perhaps he can go farther. “Is it not a shame though, my dear Max, that you’re not a true Basso Profundo?” There is a loud tear in the room as Max’s body surges larger. He shoots up inches more in height revealing a hairy stomach and pubes that already spill beyond the bounds of his pants. Reyes hears a catch in his student’s breath and watches as his Adam's apple bulge even further from his throat. His cock bursts the zipper of his pants and Max moans loud and deep enough for the professor to feel it in his chest. Reyes can’t take his eyes from the hair covering his chest grows even darker, curling as each strand grows thicker.

Before losing control of himself and his desires Dr. Reyes forces one last statement through Max’s mind, “You know the department has always wanted a basso profundo coach. How would you feel about being an assistant professor, Max?” In response Max can only sit in awe as a look of what can only be described as pleasure stains his face, mouth lolling open as his eyes grow crossed. His hands clench the sides of his chair as he struggles to not lose control over himself and the professor. Thinking of staining the practice room only makes it more difficult to keep it together. 

Reyes feels a hunger within himself as he stares down at the massive man seconds away from cumming all over himself. In time he too will only know Max as the powerful man he is now. At this juncture however the doctor sneaks out of the practice room and heads to return to his office to prepare for office hours, what kind of a professor would he be if he wasn’t there for his pupils after all. 

Walking down the hallway he hears the man in the practice room lose control, his voice echoing down the hall before hearing him run out and to the nearest bathroom. He prioritizes increasing the soundproofing of the practice rooms before turning to see the new Assistant Professor sprint down the hallway towards the nearest restroom. Struggling to move swiftly or quietly in his far-too-strained clothing. Reyes returns to the desk and smiles once more to himself as he thinks of a future for himself, his program, and his new star Basso Profundo, before hearing yet another knock at the door. 

“Do come in.”

#reblog #occamstfs #male tf #masculinization #hairy tf

[fredwmain]

Dude you’ve gotten so hung… mmm I just wanna… wanna… oh fuck… bro… I can’t think straight… we need to stop.

Why stop dude? Look at us. After every round. You’re getting so hot. My cocks getting so thick. And all this muscle. We’re just going to get more dude.

Mmm I know bro. But like I can barely think straight. We just wanted to look hot. Get more confidence. Not become, like total horny- fuuuck you’re hot- drooling… dumb…

Fuckboys? Mmm but bro, that’s totally what I wanted. Fuck each other, cum our brains out, till we were both hot mindless himbos, perfect for like only fans. Now come on bro. Stop resistin. I can see that hot cock of yours already leakin out more of that pathetic anxiety. Those lips gettin more and more fuckable huhu. And check out my cock grow…

Oh fuuuuuck bro. Uhhhhh so hot. Like maybe one more round huhu

Fuck yeah

#reblog #papermoon357 #bro tf #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf

[fredwmain]

Our Deal

For a roommate that I’d found off of a Craigslist ad, I had to admit that I could have done worse than Hayden.  The listing itself didn’t give me a good first impression– asking for a photo reference prior to any sort of in-person interview seemed odd to me, and a few of the “interest compatibility” questions he asked felt like he was looking for a boyfriend rather than a roommate.  Still, I didn’t have the budget to live alone right now, so I applied anyway.

Honestly, I’m glad I did.  Rooming with Hayden was a life-changing experience, and that’s not something I would say lightly.  My life had started to fall into a rut, but with his help, I was actually starting to get in shape.  In a really weird, roundabout sort of way… but at least I was getting results.

“I was worried something had come up today,” I said, watching Hayden walk in through the front door.  “You don’t usually spend all of Friday night out at someone else’s place.”

Hayden just laughed.  “Nah, man, I wouldn’t want to change this arrangement for the world.”

It was an unusual arrangement– one that shouldn’t have been possible– but it was one that was beneficial to both of us.  Hayden owned a relic that allowed him to swap bodies with a willing participant, which we used every Saturday afternoon without fail.  Hayden spent the entire day at the gym, building up my strength, and I spent the day at home doing the chores that needed to be done.  Not that I enjoy doing chores, of course… but I’d rather be cleaning than spending time at the gym.  Hayden felt the opposite, so it worked out quite well for us.

Hayden pulled out the solid jade relic, a hollow tube that required each person to stand close enough that the tube formed a connection from forehead to forehead.  It was the sort of thing that seemed like a dumb prank the first time around, but by now it was second nature.

“Have fun working out!” I said, watching my body grab the gym bag I’d packed this morning.  Honestly, it felt like I was taking advantage of the guy– neither of us were tidy people, so as long as I kept on top of the dishes, I didn’t even bother with any of the rest of the cleaning.  Maybe once a month I’d pull out the vacuum, but that was about it.  He spent all evening at the gym, while I spent maybe a half hour cleaning.

But hey, he still hasn’t complained about our deal.  More time for video games for me.

————————————————-

I had been skeptical about choosing Adam as my roommate– I was hoping for someone who was a solid wall of muscle– but there was something about his face that I found irresistible.  He turned out to be pretty naïve and trusting, which is also a huge plus.  I told him that I enjoy playing basketball at the rec center after I’m done working out, and the dope believes me– as if I’m the type of person who spends three hours playing sports?

I keep waiting for him to figure out what I’ve been doing inside of his body, but so far he hasn’t said anything.  I’ve been using his body for Grindr hookups, and he has no idea.  He’s slender enough to appeal to some of the bears, yet hairy enough to dominate some of the twinks.  His body really is fantastic for gay hookups, and it’s completely wasted on his hetero ass.  I’m still waiting for someone to recognize him on the streets when I’m not inside of his body but… so far so good.

Today I feel like dominating some twinks, so I wash out his hair gel and try to get an intimidating selfie for today’s Grindr profile.  I almost feel bad, taking advantage of the guy like this, but I’m not a complete asshole– I always make sure to use protection.  Not to mention the part where he’s getting muscle definition out of this.  And hey, he still hasn’t complained about our deal.

#reblog #nonotnolan #muscle tf #male body swap

[fredwmain]

Believe it or not, before Jake here tried on our Supawear, his body looked nowhere near this good. He wasn’t in horrible shape, he had slight peaks of bicep on his pale arms, and a little hint of abs could be seen showing under his slight beer gut from time to time. He wasn’t too into exercise; it was more of an occasional thing for him to do when he had time, between studying for his law degree and working his boring restaurant job. The day Jake tried on this super-charged jock, he became what he wore. Rippling muscle formed under his skin, starting at his thighs and ass, working from the jockstrap area outward. His skin started to get tanner. His balls filled with a new kind of virility and his dick became half-hard as it gradually grew several inches. His legs, abs, chest, and arms instantly bulked up, causing Jake to let out a mix of a groan of agony, a moan of pleasure, and a chuckle of disbelief. This feeling was also accompanied but a tingle in his brain, which Jake could only comprehend as the feeling of getting really good head, only inside his head instead of on his cock. His focus on school and work instantly drained, and he found himself rapidly thinking more and more about working out. Working out made him happy and horny at the same time. He knew he had to do it more. Less school, less work, less thoughts, more lifting and more laughing. Now that Jake’s just a dumb, silly, muscled up, super-horny jock, he’s not gonna want to take the Supawear jock off, because it makes him feel super. There’s not going back to the old Jake now.

#reblog #tfkinksterz #muscle tf #dumber tf #male tf

[fredwmain]

Who would you Swap, Hypno, TF? Jens De Fries, Jordan Torres, and Eric Janicki

Now this one I don’t even need to think about!

For who I’m going to switch bodies with, it is on sight with Eric Janicki. I’m stealing that body as fast as humanly possible. Do I even need to explain why! Dude is a fucking monster! Built from head to toe with thick heavy muscle and a stunning face to cap it off. Yep. That body is mine. But how would I steal it is the question? Luckily I already have a plan.

First of all I’ll need to find out where he lives and which gym he goes to. After that I’ll track him down to said gym, waiting until he inevitably arrives for his workout. When he does I’ll watch him from afar, admiring the massive body of his as it starts to glisten with sweat while he pumps his muscles. Eventually I’ll follow him to the changing rooms as subtly as possible once he’s done working out. Now the next pet is gonna be tricky. I’ll need to steal at least one recently worn piece of clothing from Eric. But doing that without him catching me would prove challenging. It’d need to wait for the perfect opportunity. It’ll probably take multiple days of following him to the gym before I finally pull it off. However he would eventually go off to talk to one of his buddies after getting changed out of his gym clothes, leaving his gym bag completely unattended. That would be my chance. I’ll dash over as fast as possible and grab the first thing I see inside the bag. And wouldn’t you know, I grabbed Eric’s large sweaty tank top.

As soon as I’m home, there’s no doubt that the very first thing I’ll do is press my nose into the tank top and inhale Eric’s scent while jerking off. Can you blame me? But once I’m finally finished, the ritual could commence. For it to work the caster needed to be wearing at least one recently worn article of clothing belonging to whoever they wished to become. Hence why I’d have Eric’s tank top dropped loosely over my body as I performed the ritual. Once completed, there would be a strong flash of colourful light and before long I’d be out cold.

When I finally wake however, the biggest grin would spread across my face as I immediately see that I’m laid in bed in a room that certainly isn’t my own. It was Eric’s bedroom. Without a second thought I’d toss the bed sheets off myself with glee shortly followed by my brain hardly being able to comprehend the sight below. Looking down at myself I saw the enormous herculean body of Eric Janicki… now completely under my control! It wouldn’t seem real. Goliath sized legs. Enormous hulking arms. Massive meaty pecs. All moving and bulging to my whim! I was a fucking unit! Yet despite all that I wouldn’t be able to keep my attention off the fat throbbing erection between my legs as Eric’s cock head peered out from the bottom of my underwear.

Eric’s morning wood would be the biggest and hardest if ever experienced perhaps part due to the swap but whatever the case I’d be tugging my underwear down in no time and wrapping my hands around that thick weapon. Moaning to myself in Eric’s voice and flexing my gigantic muscles while a jerk my fat new cock like crazy. Loving how even my dick was massive just like the rest of me was. Not being able to stop jacking and flexing until I finally erupted a massive hot load all over my new body.

Thankfully Eric would have some tissues to clean up with on the nightstand as my penis returned to a more modest size. But that would only be the beginning. It wouldn’t be long before I was jumping out of bed to get a proper look at my new self. Waltzing over the bedroom mirror and beaming from ear to ear when I see the face of Eric Janicki staring back at me. I’d check myself out immensely, groping and admiring every inch of my form. Probably almost busting another fat load on the spot when I finally get to a chance to see and squeeze my thick new muscle ass in all its glory. And I’m sure as you can imagine, I’d soon start hitting every pose I could think of to the mirror with perfect fucking form thanks to this body’s muscle memory. And no doubt it’d be a hot fucking sight to see.

Once I’m finally able to tear myself away from the mirror I’ll likely explore my new house for a bit. Strolling around in my underwear and checking out the view from the balcony but eventually there’s no doubt I’d wander into Eric’s walk in closet, seeing the huge array of clothes he had stored away. You better believe I was going to have fun trying on almost everything he own.

Fuck. I’ve been so absorbed into Eric that I nearly forgot I have two other men here! Well between Jens De Fries and Jordan Torres the one I’d have to hypnotise would be Jens for sure. He’s a hot hairy beast of a man that never ceases to give me a hard on and having him around would certainly be ideal.

Since I would already have Eric by this point it would once again just be a case of tracking down Jens. I have a feeling it might be a bit harder than it was to find Eric but I’m sure I’d be able to figure it out sooner or later. And once I’ve figured him out, I’d make a little trip down to see me. Maybe make some videos for Eric’s Instagram as well while I’m at it. Once again though it would probably be a case of finding the gym he goes to and following him inside. That said there’s a good chance he might recognise my hulking body and handsome face which if so could make this even easier. Get to chatting with him, maybe do a few sets together and what not. Act like gymbros and what not.

However as soon as we head into the changing rooms together, that’s when I’d strike. Wrapping him up in a huge bear hug with my enormous size and muscle. He’ll be too shocked to do anything naturally and won’t be strong enough to break out of my grasp before my magically enhanced pheromones do their work. It’d already been subtly working on him as we worked out together. Me working up a sweat and my scent wafting up his nose. Weakening his mind. And now he couldn’t escape it. Now his mind was swiftly being chained down by my powerful aroma and pheromones. Before long Jens would stop struggling and instead would continue to inhale my scent voluntarily, only pulling him deeper and deeper into being my hot hairy slave. Only fit to do my bidding and worship my body. Not to mention being my new fuck toy. And hey maybe I’ll even let him fuck me as well. No sense in letting a fat ass like mine go to waste.

I suppose after all that, all that’s left is Jordan Torres. I’ll be totally honestly, though Jordan is a hot dude, he isn’t totally my type. That said I can still put him to good use with a bit of TF! But what to turn him into I wonder?

Honestly it’s difficult to decide. Should I turn him into another gay man that’s more my type for me to fuck? Should I turn him into something inanimate for me to wear? But in the end I’ve decided to do something bizarre.

The moment I’m able to track down Jordan, the first thing I’m gonna do is pull down my shorts and underwear and whip out my fat Eric Janicki cock. Before he can react I’ll grab one of his hands and force him to touch my cock. The mom he does he’ll find himself unable to pull away as he loses all of his strength. No doubt he’ll be panicking but there’ll be nothing he can do as his body shrinks and gets fully absorbed into my cock. In the process I’d hopefully end up stealing his muscle mass and adding it to my own body while Jordan becomes nothing more than the fat cock between my legs. Now he’ll have the pleasure of being fucked into Jens’ hairy asshole every night, his only purpose now being to shoot my load 😈

#reblog #mrwavellswaps #male body swap #muscle tf #hypno tf #musk tf

[fredwmain]

I've discovered recently that I am severely enthralled by my jock boyfriend's stench. His socks, underwear, shoes, everything. It's just so...alluring. Do you think you could help me embrace this newfound obsession further by making him an even stinkier thick sweaty bear for me to serve at his feet?

A good jockboy should be used to working up a sweat - but for what you need, he will require a little more than some gym motivation. With the right... recalibration, I am sure that your boyfriend's love for his own musk will not only match yours but, it bring the new dynamic to your relationship that you crave.

After taking some of Coach's extra classes - complete with a new diet and protein shake supplement from MASS MONSTA - your jock boyfriend not only discovered his strength and bodymass had increased, but whenever he took a whiff of his sweat-dreanched self he became unable to resist the call of his musk.

Each day, getting more and more potent, the increased pheromones and testosterone kept mixing and coursing through his body. His increased mass and strength only adding to the sweat production.

You might have considered him more of a dominant personality before - at least compared to yourself - but after a week of his new routine, you saw first-hand what a beast he could become when he came back from the gym.

Once he grabbed you by the neck and pushed you into his ripe pit, smelling from the source, your mind would switch off entirely to follow his commands without question.

Within the month, he became not only unrecognisable but truly irresistible. Both to you, to himself, and to anyone who got a hit of his powerful musk. The best part, of course, was that he had no need to shower off before he arrived home. After receiving his pictures, you'd be there, waiting for his return, ready to serve him - however he needed.

The routine became more and more intense - where finishing a workout, stripping out of his sweat-drenched kit and setting up the camera to send a progress picture would cause the whole locker room to stare with desire in their eyes. The alpha confidence was contagious to some and alluring to others, but you were always there on hand to make sure he got what he needed.

Now - go and be a good boy and get on your knees.

You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?

—

If you enjoyed this tf, you can send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room

Post tf images: jimmyjim811 on X and OnlyFans

#reblog #coachs-locker-room #bear tf #muscle tf #dom tf #musk tf

[fredwmain]

Holy shit it’s working. I’m growing. You sure this is what you want?

Yeah bro, I’m sure. Keep going, you’re getting so hot already.

Oh fuck man. I can feel it. My head getting all… all… dumb. And these pecs dude, I got pecs, and my cock… fuuuck bro.

So hot. Keep going, give in bro.

Bro feels so good. Gonna be dumb slut like you want. Huhu dumb hot muscle slot huhu. Muscle. Uhhhhhh fuuuuck yeah

Mmm that’s right. Pump it. Crave it. There you grow.

#reblog #papermoon357 #jock tf #dumber tf

[fredwmain]

Just Feels Right

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#reblog #exploratorytfs #daddy tf #hairy tf #male body swap #mengal change

[fredwmain]

Funky Jobs

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

#reblog #thefunkfactory #dumber tf #male tf #musk tf #farts tf #bro tf

[fredwmain]

FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

#reblog #onelittlespiral #muscle tf #male tf #musk tf #daddy tf #gradual change #hit after hit after hit with this guy :P