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#tf story
bigwishes · 5 months
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Muscle BULL
(at time of writing muscle bull won the vote so I hope you enjoy)
Mikey took one last picture in front of the gym mirror, showing off every bulging muscle of his tight and toned frame. He typed his wish into the ask box "I wish for a change (but I wanna keep my muscle)" and looked into the mirror waiting for his changes to begin.
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As soon as he pressed send Mikey felt his body begin to pulse and swell. He heard the sound of his skin stretching as his muscles swelled up underneath. Mikey grabbed his pec feeling it bulge and swell bigger, the pulses of growth matching his heart beat.
"ah, fuck yeaahhhh" Mikey moaned flexing in the mirror.
The growth began to slow down, Mikey put on some cloths feeling them tight over his massive body, unable to stop flexing to himself and laughing at how muscle bigger he had grown. He left the locker room to test his new massive body in the gym.
After an hour in the gym Mikey realised he had lifted a barbell maybe once. He was too busy staring at his massive frame in the gym mirror. Other guys around him looked puny, he looked almost over grown but he loved the size.
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Mikey took a deep breath flexing again but feeling something strange in his pelvis. A butterfly like sensation stirring in his groin, Mikey looked down and moaned watching as the fabric around his dick expanded and stretched out. His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip watching it expand and grow bigger. Mikey got up and left the gym, in such a rush he forgot his bag, he got in his car feeling another surge of growth. Driving home as fast as he legally could Mikey anxiously rubbed his groin feeling a surge of pleasure as he touched it. He wanted to lift up his waist band but was even more desperate to enjoy himself as soon as he saw what was under it.
Mikey pulled up in his driveway getting out of his car, feeling what felt like his balls now so big they rubbed against his thighs. Suddenly another pulse of growth washed over his groin.
"AWWWW FUCCKKKKKKK" Mikey moaned out falling back to lean on the side of his car.
Mikey tried to run to his door but it was more of a waddle feeling the squeeze in-between his legs, Mikey shut his door and leant against it, staring up at the ceiling he moaned feeling one last massive surge. **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP**
Mikey heard his gym shorts tear apart and felt his underwear snap. Mikey let out a excited laugh looking down at his new package but it wasn't his dick that he saw. Mikey's face quickly soured as he saw a massive pink udder sagging in place of where his dick would be.
"w..w...w-WHAT THE FUCK" Mikey started to panic, grabbing onto one of his new four dick.
Another sudden pulse hit him and Mikey watched as his new sagging udder swelled up even more he felt it become tight, and then painfully tight, completely full.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK"
Mikey slid down against his door until he was sitting on the floor. He placed both his hands around the massive round udder. All four of his dicks began to leak pre.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
Mikey started jerking one of his dicks, his head fell back slamming against the door as he felt the best pleasure he's felt in his entire life. It was barely 30 second before he came and his dick squirted cum over his chest and wall. Mikey couldn't help but move onto the next one, feeling the intense pleasure, and again and then again. By the time he finished one another was rock solid. Mikey stood up wiping the cum off his massive body, moaning at his full cock udder than still felt like it was gonna burst.
Mikey walked to his bedroom and saw his huge body in the mirror, he flexed and posed his new huge muscles, he was the biggest man he's ever seen. His body took up most of his mirror and his giant hand struggled to hold his phone. His eyes wondered down his enormous frame.
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Mikey let out a deep sigh dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at the massive cock udder that was now the size of a beach ball. He wrapped both his hands around his, jiggling it up and down hearing sloshing from inside. The four dicks instantly became hard from the slightest touch. Mikey have it a slight squeeze watching as all four dicks squirted cum onto his mirror.
"Oh god, I look like a fucking cow..."
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hope you ladz can enjoy this one, its been a while and I'm trying to get back into the swing of it all.
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devonpink · 18 days
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April Fools
"You actually found some!" Oliver was astonished when his best friend and fellow nerd, Jake, proudly entered his room with two conversion bottles. "How did you manage to get your hands on those!?"
"I've got my ways," Jake smugly replied, giving Oliver his infamously devious grin. "Now, let's down these bad boys!"
A chill of excitement went down Oliver's spine as he hastily got off his computer chair and sped over to Jake. Nervously biting his bottom lip, he took one of the bottles from Jake's hands. They removed their caps and took a curious whiff, immediately appalled by the strong scent.
"Damn, that's quite a stench!" Oliver said in shock, followed by a slight cough. "You sure these are the right ones?"
"Come on, dude. You think I'd fuck up something this important!" Jake scoffed.
Oliver took a second to gaze longingly at his newly opened bottle, his mouth-watering. "So, these are going to transform us into jocks, big, muscly jocks permanently. Fuck, I've wanted this for so long."
Jake smiled. "Then let's not waste any more time, dude." They clinked their bottles together and chuged. Oliver could feel the effects of the magical concoction immediately kick in. His shirt and sweatpants instantly felt tighter. He glanced at the mirror, amazed to see his skinny, little body suddenly bulge and swell with ripped manly muscle. A wave of pure joy poured over him as he finished his bottle, ecstatic that his nerdy life was finally history.
However, Oliver's excitement ceased when he realized Jake wasn't transforming; he hadn't even downed his bottle, either. Instead, he was smugly crossing his arms and grinning maliciously from ear to ear, a look that gave Oliver a pit in his stomach.
"Why aren't you-?!" Before Oliver could finish, his mind became overwhelmingly fuzzy, the second phase of the magic kicking in at high gear. He tried getting out his words, but it was impossible to think straight as his body swelled and bulged even further.
"There, there," Jake said while softly petting Oliver's newly chiseled head. Let those worthless thoughts slip away. Just relax and enjoy your transformation." Jake then casually walked behind Oliver, his hands seductively caressing Oliver's newly bulked biceps as he turned. He slid his hands up Oliver's shirt and removed it, exposing Oliver's ripped chest and plump nipples to the cold air. He softly rubbed his throbbing bulge against Oliver's tightening ass, turning Oliver on. Jake stroked his fingers over Oliver's tender nipples, heightening Oliver's lust. Oliver's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Jake licked the black of his neck and worked his hands down to his stiffening crotch. "Your gonna be such a good, dumb jock, aren't you?" He playfully whispered into Oliver's ear. "You'll be my big, dumb jock. My mindless, obedient toy. Only wanting to satisfy my every desire."
Oliver's transformation was close to finishing. It wouldn't be long till his mind was completely gone. Drops of sweat started flowing down his body as if he had just returned from a rigorous gym session. His mind was getting so empty, except for the new desires for working out, playing ball, and obeying Jake, his new master.
"Didn't I say you could trust me?" Jake playfully said, stepping back in front of Oliver and grinning deviously, pure lust in his eyes. "April fools, dude."
And just like that, Oliver's old self was gone. His transformation finished. Rippling abs, broad shoulders, wide chest, perfect biceps, a firm ass, massive feet, and an empty head. He was now the jock of Jake's dreams. Oliver smiled like a dumbass and vacantly stared into Jake's evil eyes, awaiting his master's command.
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Jake got down on his knees and pulled Oliver's sweatpants down, revealing a precum-stained bulge in Oliver's boxer briefs. He looked up at Oliver, feeling like the king of the world. He took a moment to appreciate the magnificent view of Oliver's sweaty chiseled perfection before taking Oliver's newly-enormous cock into his evil, greedy mouth.
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sanzaibian · 2 months
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I should have known better.
You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.
You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.
Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.
I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !
But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.
I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !
But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !
So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.
And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.
I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.
However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…
So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.
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The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.
I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.
But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !
After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.
And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.
When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.
After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.
“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”
I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?
I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !
As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?
As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.
“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.
- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…
- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !
- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !
- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.
- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !
- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ‘no’ ?”
I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !
“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”
On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…
After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...
I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…
But at least, I’m hot now…
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Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !
Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'
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bigboysfalldeep · 5 months
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mass cop conversion
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After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.
They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.
As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.
After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.
"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.
"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.
Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.
Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.
"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.
But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.
"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.
Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.
"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.
"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.
Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.
The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.
"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.
With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.
"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.
"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.
Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.
At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.
Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.
"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.
Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.
Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.
The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.
Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.
"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.
In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.
The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.
Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.
Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.
It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.
As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.
Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.
Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.
"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.
Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 
Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.
Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.
As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.
"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.
His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.
Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.
Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.
Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.
This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 
He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.
At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.
Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.
His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.
He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.
Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.
Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.
The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.
They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.
This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.
Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.
Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.
The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.
"Obey."
Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.
Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.
Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.
But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.
Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.
The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.
For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.
In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.
He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.
Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.
"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.
He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.
This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.
"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.
Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.
He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.
Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.
He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.
Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.
It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.
The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.
"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."
Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.
Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.
One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.
As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.
It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.
Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.
While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.
All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.
Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.
It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.
"Serve. Cum and obey."
Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.
His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.
With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.
He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.
Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.
With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.
Obedience.
They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.
The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.
Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.
The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.
"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.
"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.
"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.
"Yes, sir." 
He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.
Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.
The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.
With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.
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hardwriterdeluxe · 16 days
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Second Life
I’ve been were busy recently and haven’t had time to write and I’ve also had writers block, I wanna thank @chavdrone and @kaithescallylad for inspiring me to write this story! ________________________________________________
Oliver was walking home from a friend towards the bus stop when he noticed a new shop. He had been around this part of London many times and had never seen this store before. Its dusty storefront displayed many different styled mannequins in attempts to be trendy, but they just ended up cheesy. Oliver looked at the store and read the half-broken neon sign, “Second life”; it was a second-hand shop. Oliver had time to kill, so he took the opportunity to check the store. It was open, and he went in. He was met by a large arrangement of racks with clothes and shelves; he didn't know where to start. The store seemed to be empty of any customers, and the checkout was empty as well, so Oliver just went around browsing for potential items.
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Oliver was your average guy. He studied at some college in London he had recently turnt 20 and described by his nerdy characteristics: brown overgrown hair, glasses, a lanky build, and an normal clothing style. It was out of character for Oliver to blink twice at the White Nike trainers he just passed. His body felt drawn towards the pair, and even though the pair were size 11s and his feet were size 9, he felt obliged to try them on. He grabbed them and went towards a dressing room, not finding any other mirror or place to sit; he went there. Oliver removed his boots and put on the White Nike Tns. At first, he felt amused seeing these large, comically-looking sneakers on his feet, but that soon changed. The sneakers quickly started feeling moist, wet, and they were smelling; he was confused. Becoming uncomfortable, he quickly tried to yank off the sneakers, but to no avail, they were simply stuck, and the size gap weirdly felt snug.
Unbeknownst to Oliver, Second Life wasn't just an ordinary second-hand shop; no, it was a store offering a new life. Each item dropped off by the last owner transferred their essence into the new owner, ultimately forming a second life for the customer. Oliver's body started to change, and his height increased; his body frame started filling out, his lanky arms becoming toned, and his stomach gaining the outlines of some abs. His body gained a lean look, and his body started to emit the same smell his sneakers had; ultimately, exuding masculinity mixed with a new fragrance coming from his body, some cheap Axe deodorant and cologne. Oliver's face started changing; Oliver originally had slim and feminine features, a round nose and jaw, and a kind-looking face. That dramatically changed as his jaw started to square up, some stubble growing in, and his mouth gaining a stupid expression, a stupid grin. His nose swelled up and got crooked from all the fights he "supposedly" had gone through, and his eyes squinted up as well as his brow ridge squared up, his eyebrows becoming full and dark, and his ears becoming pierced. Oliver's hairstyle went from his long hair to a short-styled fade.
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Oliver's clothes disintegrated all but his underwear that changed into some blue Nike boxers, as well as his bulge growing to accommodate his new length and foot size. Oliver's body started getting new clothes as a black football tracksuit materialized on him, the pants tucked into his socks, and he ultimately got a chain around his neck, finalizing his new look.
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The last step was his mental state; Oliver's mind adjusted to his new persona and changed him into Ozzy, a 20-year-old British chav. Ozzy didn't go to college like those fancy shits; instead, he spent his days hanging with his brothers and working for some money. Gone was Oliver, and the world around him had erased Oliver for good. The store owner watched the whole change back in the storage, checking out another happy customer.
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jockifyme · 1 month
Text
My Stories
Hey y'all, putting this here so anyone can get to my stories easily. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
New Crew (Construction Worker)
From the Stage to the Wrestling Mat (Theater Geek to Wrestler)
Look into My Eyes (Muscle Growth, Hypnosis)
Brit to Patriot (Happy 4th of July)
A Day at the Lake (Redneck)
A Shortcut (Nerd to Jock)
The Football Team is Untouchable (Professor to Football Player)
More Than a Spectator (Football Player TF)
At the Bus Stop (Football Player TF)
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derekhighwaytf · 9 months
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InstaCub
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I loved the Cha Cha Room.  It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation.  Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however.  The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me.  Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty.  I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.
My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.
But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take.  Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises.  And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.
"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked.  I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk.  Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink.  "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.
As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends.  However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it.  A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it?  No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."
“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly.  “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.  Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls.  I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.
“I must be in the wrong place.  I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door.  But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do.  I think you fit in perfectly.”
Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation.   I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.
Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.
And then I farted.
Pffffffft.
I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.
I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me.  This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time
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As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock.  So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.
I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…
Pffffffffft.
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hard-like-fella · 3 months
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seeing your work; turning people into rubber skinheads, chavs, etc. has really made me realize how nice it would be if something similar were to happen to me. What would have to change in order to become a rubber soldier?
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Indeed, envisioning yourself as a rubber soldier conjures up images of a striking figure clad in shiny latex and PVC, with every muscle accentuated to perfection.
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However, the magic of such a transformation lies in the precision of your words. A 'rubber soldier' might not just entail a shiny uniform but could literally mean becoming a RUBBER soldier.
As the transformation begins, you might first notice your compression T-shirt hugging your torso a tad more snugly than usual. Then, a peculiar sensation sweeps over you as your muscles stiffen, your skin takes on a glossy, green sheen, and you feel both powerful and constrained simultaneously.
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In the blink of an eye, your uniform and boots seem to dissolve, melding into your very being. Now, you stand not just dressed as, but truly embodying, a toy soldier - resolute and unyielding.
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Your every movement resonates with a surreal, rubbery echo. As you move, the stiffness of your body becomes apparent. Each motion is deliberate, almost mechanical. The most immediate and striking change is the pervasive scent of rubber and plastic mixed with sweat that now seems to emanate from your very pores. It's a constant reminder of your transformation, a heady and unmistakable aroma that clings to your newly glossy skin.
Isn't this what you asked for?
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coachs-locker-room · 3 months
Note
Would love to be a hot wrestler in a wrestling singlet. Is this possible?
It's been a while since I last had an order of singlets, but I'm sure that I can find an old one of mine that you can borrow. A nimble fella like yourself should look into bulking up a bit - especially if you want to be in action on the team!
- -
Almost forgetting about the odd exchange at the gym until you were about to go to bed, you pulled the singlet out of your gym bag. You had a strange memory of being asked for something in return, but your mind went blank whenever you thought of what it was… nevertheless, feeling the fabric in your hands, you thought it would only be right to give the singlet a try on your next visit to the gym.
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When the day came, your heart wanted to start racing as the tight fabric stretched across your legs and torso, but it never came. With a feeling of disappointment, both in yourself and the singlet itself, you realised that you didn't feel or look like the hot wrestlers you lusted after. Determined, and somewhat inspired by all of the 'New Year New You' content that had been everywhere this month, you took out your phone and snapped a pic for yourself. Clear that if you dared to share the image on social media, the ridicule from your friendship group would make you leave you even more crushed.
With a deep sigh, you pulled on a big hoodie and shorts, dumped two extra scoops of protein powder into your cup, and connected your headphones to the gym speaker system before leaving the locker room.
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Within the first fifteen minutes, you started to feel the strangest effects surge through you. You could only compare it to being over-caffeinated, but you felt pure energy and confidence surging through you like electricity re-charging a battery. Smashing your last set, you pulled off your hoodie as you walked over to the water fountain for a break, and caught your reflection in the mirror. You don't have to worry about your friends any more - if anyone is doing the crushing, it's 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- image of lil_cubcake on Instagram: link singlet image of @pup-trexx: link
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bigwishes · 7 months
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Pretty Boy's Mistake
Kye was you average university athlete, mainly there to get a degree a generic sports degree to get a job as a personal trainer in the high end gyms, he rarely went to his lecture but always got outstanding grades. It wasn't that he wasn't passionate about sports or health, in fact he had taught himself pretty much everything the university had to offer before he had even gotten there. He was only there for a piece of paper. He spent most of his time in the gym, lifting weights whilst also training some guys on the side for some cash in hand work but he always made sure to put his own workouts first. His body was almost perfect and he loved every inch of it.
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Although he wished he could be bigger. He saw some of the guys in the gym, how their tank tops looked like they could burst at any moment. One time he even saw a guys tank split because of an insane chest pump. He loved huge guys, wanted to be fucking huge like them. He would picture his gym crush and how his entire car would bounce and wobble when he squeezed his massive frame inside, he wanted a guy like that in his bed, he wanted to be bigger than that but a body like that would probably take him another 15 years to build and he wanted to enjoy and flaunt that size before he left uni.
Kye was in the gym when he saw a huge lumbering giant walk in. The man looked like a superhero right out of a comic and something possessed Kye out of no where. He followed the huge meathead to the locker room.
Kye stood there seeing the giant block almost all the lockers on a wall his back was so wide and Kye got nervous, a lump formed in his throat and he spat out what he had to say.
"so...how do I get as big as you bro"
the massive dude turned around looking around the locker room checking to see if he was talking to someone else, he let out a thunderous chuckle.
"you talkin to me pretty boy?"
Kye grew red in the face "y-yeah man, look I been lifting for a few years and I really wanna get fucking huge like you man"
"aaa just keep at it guy, youll be massive like mean real soon"
"how old are you?"
"Im 22 bro"
"22!" Kye yelled "bro im almost 23 how the fuck you get so big man, you gotta tell me your secret"
"hmmm, look, you're kinda cute bro so, I'll let you in on a little secret, for a trade of course"
"Anything man, anything, Ive tried everything I know with diet and routine and I'm just not swelling up like other guys are"
"I'll give you my secret if you tell me why you wanna be so big, annnnd, for a date" the large man raise his eyebrow and walked closer to Kye.
Kye's heart started pounded as he imagined what it'd be like to have his skull crushed by the giant bodybuilder's monstrous thighs
"o-okay, ummm, phew, is it hot in here?" kye tripped and stumbled over his words like it was his first time ever talking to a guy.
"so, why you wanna be big pretty boy?"
Suddenly the man had is arms leaning on the doorframe behind Kye forming an arch over him looking down at him.
"eer, well, I-I like size and, I like guys with size and I wanna be big y-ya know" Kye tried to avoid eye contact as the massive brute leaned in
"So you like big guys hey? why don't you keep your lil jock bod, let a mountain like myself have fun with you"
"Because I ain't no bodies bottom bitch, believe me man, if I was as big as you, I'd of already throw you against the wall and you'd be beggin for it"
The massive meat head in front of him bit his lip
"so you promise, once you're as big as me you'll be tossing me around?"
Kye smirked trying to keep up the confident façade
"yeah bro, but gotta warn you, I'm already a catch, once guys see me with arms tearing out of my shirt and my huge muscled fat ass squeezed into tight gym shorts you'll probably have some competition"
"oh I like a cocky meathead"
the man turned around walking back to his gym bag pulling out a small vial of orange fluid, he handed it to kye
"I'm Jason by the way"
"What is this?"
"My secret mixture, drink it man, it'll make you real big...and give you that fat juicy ass you want"
Kye instantly downed the drink and gave Jason a wink.
"Alright, Im gonna go workout man"
"See you tomorrow pretty boy" Jason laughed as Kye walked out.
Kye was stepping into his car, having to stop to catch his breath, he worked harder than he ever had. He knew the vitamin shot he was given wasn't going to do anything but it was at least energising. Kye felt a strange tingling, as the veins on his pelvis swelled with blood pumping downwards. Kye gritted his teeth feeling like he was about to get hard and suddenly he watched as his package swelled and doubled in size in his pants.
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Kye jumped in his car feeling his thighs and arms swell. Like his pump was subsiding but his muscles weren't shrinking down to normal size.
He drove home, gritting his teeth and occasionally grunting the entire way.
Kye stepping of of his car feeling his shirt tight around his chest and arms. He let out a tired sigh feeling strange and walked inside. Kye saw himself in the mirror, his shirt tightly pulled across body. He pulled off his shirt seeing his abs slightly stretched out, rubbing his stomach watches his package swell again.
UUUUUGGGGhhhhhh He groaned.
"W-what the fuck is going on"
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Kye watches as his bulge swelled outwards in his pants straining against the fabric, as his stomach swelled outwards with it.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK MY, MY ABS"
Kye grabbed his stomach feeling it strain
UUUUUUUGGGGHHHH-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP
Kye let out a painful groan that turned into a belch as tears started to form in his eyes, his perfect 6 pack was gone swelled out like he had been bulking all year round.
Kye couldn't hold back the belches escaping his mouth and with each on his body changed. His arms swelled bigger, his thighs swells bigger.
He watched helplessly in the mirror unable to stop the changes, no matter how hard he pushed his stomach trying to get it to shrink the only thing he managed to do was push out another belch. Kye mercilessly began scratching at his jaw and neck feeling an annoying itch take over. He was too busy watching as his body swelled up to notice the changes in his face. Kye finally looked up from his bloated stomach to see himself, hairy, big and bulky.
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"WHAT THE FUCK, I" Kye pinched the side of his waist in disbelief
BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP
Kye's massive meaty hand felt is muscled gut vibrate as he belched. Feeling a surge of change again, but he didn't see himself get any bigger in the mirror, he heard a slight ripping noise and looked around. Turning to the side he saw the fabric of his gym shorts tight, torn and ripped over his massive muscular ass. His face turned bright red.
"Oh god..I'm...uuggh I'm like a fat bear"
Kye's stomach grumbled and he made his way to the kitchen poking and patting his gut hoping by some mirecal it would shrink and turn back into a six pack.
Kye sat in the gym locker room trying to hide his new burly body under bagging clothing. Embarrassed and hoping Jason would walk in at any moment. After about an hour Jason walked in.
"H-Hey Jason"
"Oh hey Pretty Boy, hows it feel bein big"
"I" Kye couldn't even finish his sentence before letting out a monstrous belch
"I didn't ask for this"
"yeah you did bro, you wanted to be big"
"AND NOW LOOK AT THIS, WHERE ARE MY ABS IM TUBBY" Kye lifted his shirt and poked at the muscled slab
"Man you aint tubby, you bulky, thick muscle"
"But I wanted my abs bro, I wanted to look like some pro bodybuilder not like some kinda burping werewolf"
Kye rubbed his gut cocking his mouth open belching causing Jason to laugh. Kye's face turned bright red
"Dude stop laughing and fucking do something, uuuggghhh"
"alright bro, quit the complaining I might have something for you"
"Anything is better than this man"
Jason handed Kye a vial filled with bright pink liquid
UUUURpp "so, this'll fix me?"
"Oh man, it'll give you the perfect body"
Kye looked at it suspiciously feeling the concrete wall he had for a stomach. He closed his eyes and downed, a few moments passed and Kye didn't feel much different, when suddenly the familiar sensation rose up from his gut to his throat.
UUUUUHHGG-UUUUUURRRRRPPPP
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Kye's eyes widen and his face turned white
"WHA-UUUUUURRRPPPP DID-UUUUURRRRRRPP YOU GIV- UUUURRRPP ME?!"
Kye tried to speak more but he struggled to form a full sentence from his constant belching
"Looking good man" Jason laughed
Kye, felt is rock hard bloated gut and heard the sound of tearing fabric as his muscles bulged out of his shit, soon he was left standing there in the gym locker room in nothing but his underwear.
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Kye looked at himself in the mirror disappointed by his huge muscle gut, he cocked his mouth open and belched.
Jason let out a booming laugh "bro you look like you take roids and smash 6 protein shakes hourly"
"bro why'd you do this" Kye sheepishly asked
"because you wanted to me big"
"then why not make me like you, why give me this huge gu-UUUUURRP"
"Coz you were cocky, and I find it hot when cocky guys get taken down a peg"
"oh" kye smiled "so now you've gotten you kick I can go back right?"
"nah, you were a pretty boy jock, now you can enjoy being a bulky cunt"
Kye went to walk away from the mirror, hearing his underwear start to rip around is massive muscled ass. That'll teach him to take stuff from strangers in the locker room.
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devonpink · 1 month
Text
Straight Boy.MP3 Part 2
Pierre was chilling on his bed, scrolling his phone in utter boredom when suddenly he got a text from his best friend, Mason, a link to an untitled mp3. His eyes perked up, wondering what it could be. While putting on his headphones, he got another text from Mason. The text read, "Bro!!! Listen to this immediately, bro!!! It's fucking life changing, bro!!!" Pierre raised an eyebrow of confusion, perplexed at why Mason unexpectedly sounded like an annoying cliché of a dumb straight boy. "Well, if it's that amazing," Pierre scoffed, rolling his eyes. He laid back and curiously pressed play, smugly assured in knowing no song is genuinely life-changing. Poor Pierre, how wrong he'd soon be.
After a few seconds of ambient build-up, the song went right into the hook: a cacophony of vibrant hypnotic melodies piercing Pierre's mind like neon lightning. It was loud and violent, yet incredibly arousing. In a panic, Pierre tried removing his noise-canceling headphones, but they wouldn't budge. He wanted to get up, confused and frightened, but his body wouldn't let him; his backside and legs felt like they were cemented to the bed. The more he tried to budge, the weaker his body became. His arms soon fell to his sides, limp with exhaustion. All he could do was listen in agonizing terror as his 10" cock became instantly rock hard, creating a stiff pitch tent in his thin grey sweatpants.
"What the fuck?!" Pierre winced as the song's repetitious beat assaulted his ears. He clutched his bedspread in discomfort, feeling incredibly lightheaded but, surprisingly, with no headache. His eyes rolled back in anguish, feeling his whole body tingle and tighten. Even in such misery, nothing could stop the mysterious intensity of aching arousal igniting within him, a massive pre cum stain forming at the tip of his throbbing pitch tent.
"Cum, dumb straight boy!" An unrecognizable male singer abruptly and loudly sang, frightening the hell out of Pierre. His hard cock quivered, instantly responding to the song's command. His cock suddenly felt on the brink of eruption, making him spasm with a severe euphoric chill. In the pit of his stomach, he knew something terrible was going to happen if he shot his load. He clutched his bedspread harder, trying desperately to resist, but his body wouldn't have it. With a moan of great sexual agony, he blasted through his grey sweatpants and made a huge mess of himself and his bedspread with his white sticky cum.
"Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre moaned, his voice slightly deeper. He couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, but it was the only thing his brain could muster. The song then went right into the bridge, grabbing back his attention. "Dumb boy. Dumb, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. "What the fuck?!" Pierre gasped, feeling his cock stiffen back up. "Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy. Cum out all your brains, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. His cock quivered and throbbed, aching for release. "Fuck, no! Fuck, bro-" Pierre uttering that word again sent a chill down his spine, cutting off all thought. "Holy fuck, bro." Pierre moaned, his mind suddenly feeling like mush. His hips began to thrust forward on their own, his cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants. He could feel his resistance slipping, giving him unexpected pleasure. "Fuck, bro!!!" he moaned, his cock erupting another blast of hot sticky cum.
"Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy." The lyrics sang, bringing a dumb smile to Pierre's sweaty face. "Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre chuckled, his head feeling even lighter. He unclenched from his bedspread, feeling more relaxed. Pierre then closed his eyes, seeing them go fuzzy. A few seconds ago, Pierre felt like he was in a living nightmare, but now he felt like he had just finished having the best full-body massage of his life. "Fuck, bro." He moaned in satisfaction. However, the song wasn't over. Pierre wasn't complete yet.
"Straight boy. I'm a straight boy." The lyrics sang, widening Pierre's dumb smile. "I'm a straight boy." Pierre harmonized. Pierre's eyes opened in shock, instantly snapping out of his joy. A drop of cold sweat ran down his face, dread pouring over him. "I'm gay." Pierre protested. "You're a straight boy." The lyrics immediately sang back, responding to him. Pierre's heart quickened, unable to believe what was happening. "I'm-" Before Peirre couldn't finish, the song fastly interrupted, "-straight. You're a straight boy." Pierre's cock stiffened back up to full mast, throbbing and quivering for release. He clutched his bedspread again, knowing the next ejaculation would be the last. What lay on the other side of that orgasm, he could only fear the worst.
"Cum, straight boy!" The song commanded. Pierre clutched his soaked bedspread harder, trying with all his might to resist. "Cum, boy. Cum, straight boy. Cum out all your gay, straight boy!" The song commanded, sounding malevolent. Pierre groaned, feeling his hips thrust forward on their own again. His hard cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants felt magnificent, the pleasure beyond hard to resist. "Cum, Pierre! Join us, bro!" The song commanded. Pierre's heart skipped a beat, the song uttering his name frightening the hell out of him. His hips thrust harder, humping faster. He could feel the cum building up, his cock ready to erupt for the final time. "Please, no!" Pierre protested in agony, tears forming in his eyes. "CUM!" The song demanded, sounding like the devil himself. Pierre clutched as hard as he could, the pleasure overpowering all fear. "FUCK, BRO!!!" Pierre roared like a mighty manly beast, firing off his hot sticky white cum for the third and final time.
The song blasted off its final beat as Pierre passed out in a pool of sweat and cum. He awoke a few minutes later feeling like a brand-new man. Pierre was a new man. The previous intelligent gay Pierre was permanently gone forever, and the new dumb straight Pierre was here to stay. With all memory of his mental transformation erased, Pierre was dumbfounded as to why he was drenched in sweat and cum. But now, being as dumb as a brick, he didn't overthink it and got off his bed to clean himself. Instead of bathing like an intellectual, he grabbed a used towel and poorly whipped the cum and sweat off his chiseled body.
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Pierre then rushed over to his closet to quickly change into his trunks. It was still a hot, sunny day, and the slutty babes at the beach were calling. He needed pussy and badly! But before going out, Pierre sent all his gay friends a link to his brand-new favorite song, an untitled mp3.
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sanzaibian · 18 days
Text
Oh. You’re here once again.
What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?
To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.
I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !
See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !
I’m not supposed to become someone like this :
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I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !
Or like that :
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Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !
Or that guy :
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His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !
Or even this guy !
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… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !
Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !
However, today, it all changes.
Today, you will understand my plight.
Today, I’ll transform you for a change.
Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.
So, let us begin.
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BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?
… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”
You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.
Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !
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There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !
Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.
Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.
Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.
Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.
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BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.
Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?
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Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !
… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !
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Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.
So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).
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Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !
However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.
Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)
By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !
Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !
This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !
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Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !
I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.
BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !
Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.
All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !
… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…
NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.
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Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.
Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…
… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?
What are you holding out for me ?
...
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I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.
================================================
By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !
230 notes · View notes
bigboysfalldeep · 4 months
Text
photogenic - when cops go under
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For over a year now, I've been running a photography business in a small town, but nobody knew it was just a cover-up for my mischievous games.
I've always been into hypnosis, especially when it meant bringing big guys under my control. I discovered that, under the right circumstances, anyone can fall victim to hypnosis. For me, I stumbled across a very interesting combination.
I was doing my research when I came across the use of light, smell, and sound to make someone a willful puppet, a mere plaything. A single light, scent, or sound alone won't be enough for most men to go under, but the correct mixture of all of them is pure blissful ecstacy.
I prepared my entire studio to fulfill my deepest wishes, and the whole setup was perfect. I had multiple ring lights, reflectors, strobe lights, and softboxes, all of them placed in a way to cover the entire stage in a warm, engulfing light. I made sure to let them flicker just barely, unseen for most unknowing eyes. It will exhaust the victim's mind and eyes, just what I need.
Of course, I created my own playlist of songs, mostly with ordinary background sounds, similar to elevator music, but I hid messages deep within the rhythm to subconsciously invade any unsuspecting minds.
To complete the setup, I placed a few candles here and there; I made them myself, using special ingredients that, when burned, act as some sort of aphrodisiac. A horny mind is a willing mind, and especially men are easily subjected to that method.
Just perfect, and the studio was operating for months without anyone suspecting a thing. Of course, I didn't just take control over anyone—just the beautiful ones, the ones that made me cry just by looking at them.
One day, however, I couldn't believe my eyes when I got an inquiry from the local sheriff department. They wanted to send an officer to a photoshoot for some sort of promotional material, but I didn't care. I was so excited that I didn't let that opportunity slip away. They just told me his name, Officer Romero. I had seen him around and heard his name. He was indeed a handsome man.
I prepared the entire studio and made sure everything was working perfectly fine when the doorbell rang. My heart was already racing so fast, and I could barely breathe steadily. I took several deep breaths before I opened the door. It got even worse when I looked into the cop's beautiful face.
"Officer Romero." I said I was reaching for his hand. "Right on time." He smiled and shook my hand.
"Of course." The officer said it in a deep, manly voice, which sent shivers down my spine. He looked so good in his uniform as well—so tight and thick, just the way I like them.
"Why don't you come in?" I motioned for him to enter my studio, which he did without hesitation. Getting a good look at his arse filling his pants, I quietly locked the door before following him closely.
"That's a nice studio." He growled deeply, taking a look around the main room. The music was already playing softly in the background, and even I smelled the faint scent of herbs hovering in the air all around us, but he didn't seem to mind it.
"Thank you." I nodded politely. "I hope I'm not disrupting your shift, officer."
He caught me staring at his uniform again, but he just let out a soft chuckle. "No, no. It's my day off, actually." He said, and his voice sounded so smooth, making my dick hard.
I just noticed he was carrying a bag right then. "I'm hitting the gym right after this shoot; I brought my gym gear too." The officer smiled contently, causing me to mirror him right away.
"Sounds good to me." I tilted my head and told him to put the bag to the side and to step onto the little stage I had prepared for him. I enjoyed watching him walk around in his uniform, as he was looking so fucking hot.
He got in position, struck a pose, and waited for me to take the first pictures. I saw him running both of his hands across his chest and waist, straightening his unfiorm shirt, and subconsciously checking if his pants were sitting okay.
At the same time, he kept touching his nose, running a hand through his light stubble, his hair, and down his neck. Was he nervous? Or was my setup already showing some effect on him?
"Are you ready?" I said as I turned on all the lights at the same time.
"Ugh." He groaned under his breath, slightly flinching at the barrage of light hitting his face. "I think so." Officer Romero's deep voice filled the room, causing my dick to pulsate softly.
"I hope it's not too bright." I knew it was way too much for simple pictures, but most people don't want to bother a professional.
"No, it's fine." The cop struck a pose again and struggled to keep his eyes focused.
I pressed my favorite button, the trigger of my camera. A light even brighter than all those lights around us. Luckily, I wasn't on the receiving end of this.
*Flash*
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"Looking good," I said loudly, pressing another button so the lights dim yet start to flicker slightly.
Romero was way more comfortable with that setup, just as I hoped.
"How are you feeling, officer?" I hesitated for a moment when I noticed he was struggling to loosen up a little.
"I'm just nervous." He chuckled again with that deep voice. "I am sorry." The cop shrugged, and I saw his face blushing slightly.
"That's all good. It happens to the best of us." I nodded comfortingly. "Just breathe deeply; try to relax."
Right away, he did as I told him, taking one deep breath after another, taking in more and more of that alluring smell filling the air.
After a few more seconds, I noticed a steady shift in his posture. The more breaths he took, the more comfortable he became.
"Very good. Just keep breathing, but don't forget to smile." I chuckled as well, preparing to take yet another picture.
*Flash*
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"That one was good." I licked my lips in anticipation; I knew that my setup was working perfectly fine.
Officer Romero was becoming more comfortable, kept breathing deeply, and looked right into the warm light.
"This feels good." He purred happily, stroking his own chest again before grabbing his own member through his pants. I could tell he wasn't paying attention to this; it was purely instinctive.
"Doesn't it?" I said I watched him stroking himself once, then twice, before striking another pose.
"Am I doing good?" He chuckled when I pulled the trigger again.
*Flash*
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"You're doing so well, Officer. You're a natural." I smiled, enjoying seeing him open up more and more. At one point, he slightly started swaying, unable to take a firm stand—an indicator that he was ready for the next step.
"Can you hear me, Officer?" I watched him through the lens of my camera as his eyes unfocused for a second, his body kept swaying, and he let his hands run all over his upper body, his crotch, waist, and ass.
"Yes." He smiled derpily and tried to regain his composure by holding his hands in front of his chest.
*Flash*
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"Good." I said it in a serious tone. "Now listen to me." With the press of a button, all the lights started to turn color, rhythmically to the sound of the music playing in the background.
His eyes widened, and he looked at me, waiting for any further commands.
"I want you to listen to me, breathe, and just breathe. Relax. It's so easy to just let me handle this, okay?" I watched his eyes roll back for a second; he was hooked on my voice already.
Officer Romero opened his mouth, but a single deep moan was the only thing escaping his lips at this point.
"Just look at these beautiful lights, how they spin around, all those colors." His eyes were unfocused again.
"Listen to my voice and the music and forget about your own thoughts. You don't need them right now."
The cop moaned again, touching his now visibly tenting cock through his tight pants.
"Take in more of that delicious scent; it will help you relax and be mine."
I watched him take several deep breaths, and a low guttural moan left his lips before he just smiled.
*Flash*
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I was already leaking while watching him through the camera, but I needed to see if it worked.
So I turned off the lights and saw him standing there, swaying slightly, while he wasn't looking at anything in particular.
I approached him, reached for his muscular chest, and placed a hand on his badge.
"Can you hear me, Officer?" I whispered, and his posture shifted again. His body was reacting to the sound of my voice, twitching once he heard it.
"Yess." He moaned again.
"Very good boy." I stroked his firm chest again and again, causing him to smile contently. "You're a big boy, aren't you?" I chuckled, but he just growled in response.
"I want you to listen to me, Officer Romero." I pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand around his thick neck, the other stroking his chest and tummy through his soft clothes.
"I want you to be mine, my personal cop." I breathed into his ear. "You want it too, don't you?" The officer groaned in agreement, giving in to my embrace.
He was so heavy, so thick, and so beautiful.
"Very good. Now stand tall." Separating myself from him, I watched him regain his composure. He immediately struck that usual pose: arms behind his back, chin up, and a straight chest.
His handsome face was blank, his eyes unfocused and foggy, yet still so beautiful. The training really showed, and I couldn't help but touch his upper body, his pecs, and his arms firmly. It felt so good to feel his muscles bulge, causing the uniform to become even tighter around his well-formed body.
Biting my lip I grabbed my own tenting cock—oh, how much I wanted to get sucked off by the handsome cop. But first things first.
"Flex for me." I grabbed the camera again and took another picture, this one, for my personal collection. Officer Romero lifted one arm after another, causing his biceps to bulge firmly—fuck, so hot.
*Flash*
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I moaned quietly at the sight of this man following all of my orders. Shaking my head in disbelief, I approached him again. "Stop flexing." I motioned for him to lower his arms, and he did.
I walked around him, appreciating his body some more. My hands encompassed his entire body, his broad back, his thick ass, and his thighs—so beefy, so good.
I had to hold back several moans, but I managed to behave myself.
Now standing in front of him again, I caressed his cheek—his skin was so soft—and let my fingers brush through his light beard, across his soft lips, and along his firm jawline.
"I'm so happy it was you." I breathed against his lips before I pulled him into that tight embrace again.
"Listen." I stroked his tummy now, firmly and lovingly. "I want you; I need you to be mine."
Officer Romero moaned into my ear and down my neck, making me leak some more. 
"I want you to focus on me, on my hand." I said as I let my hand run further down his body, right to his member bulging inside his uniform.
I grabbed him firmly, letting the palm of my hand rub against his thick cock.
"Get hard for me, boy, harder than ever before." I whispered into him, causing him to growl deeply.
His breathing intensified slowly, and his entire body tensed more and more. He was truly concentrating every fiber of his body to get hard—a sensational feeling.
As his cock grew harder, pressing against his pants and my hand, I smirked.
"Now, when I tell you to, you will release all that pressure building up inside your body, and with that, you will be mine, and mine alone."
"Yess." Officer Romero started to grind his hips against my hand, anticipating the coming release.
"Now." I breathed deeply, and with that, I felt his cock shooting multiple massive loads of his precious cum right against the palm of my hand. Letting out a long, guttural groan, causing his deep voice to break slightly, he leaned his head back, embracing this moment of pure blissful satisfaction.
More and more shots left the tip of his huge cock until he ran dry. Even then, he kept thrusting again and again. His mind was empty; all he could think of was cumming, letting go, and becoming a mindless, obedient toy.
I myself was breathing quickly, as I felt the same satisfaction as he did. I just came into my pants as well, and it felt so good.
In one swift motion, I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand inside to fondle his member for a little while. He kept purring the more I touched him. His cock was sticky, so hard and thick—I pulled it out of his trousers and took a good look at it—so huge.
"Look at me." I placed a hand around his neck, forcing him to look at me. Officer Romero was struggling to keep a straight face; his eyes were vacant; he was drooling, but that made him even more handsome.
"You did so good, Officer." I licked my lips again while stroking him—all of him—again.
He purred happily and enjoyed my loving touch as well. I started to unbutton his shirt now too, exposing an even tighter shirt underneath. Even though the outline of his abs was visible.
"Listen. Anytime you see the flash of my camera, you will go deeper and back into this state again. Do you understand?" I ran my hand across his tummy, cueing him to growl like a dog.
"Yes." He said it with his usually manly voice, now dull.
"Good. Now. When I tell you to, you will come back to yourself. You won't remember anything that happened while you were under. The conditioning will be the only thing that stays hidden inside your mind. Understood?" I said as I fixed his uniform shirt.
The cop nods in agreement.
"You won't be bothered by your stained clothes; instead, you will be as comfortable as before." Licking my lips, I tucked his thick cock back into his briefs and pants, but it was still incredibly visible that he was so hard.
Officer Romero consciously touches himself once I button up his uniform pants before he regains his composure. "Yes." He growled.
I walked back to my spot, turned the lights back on—the white ones—and watched him through the lens of my camera.
"Welcome back, Officer," I said firmly, and right away, I noticed the shift in his posture again.
His eyes focused, he blinked several times, and he straightened his back. Insticnteviely, he ran a hand across his chest, his tummy, and his crotch, but he didn't seem bothered at all.
"Sorry, did you say something?" A little confused, he tried to look at me through the bright light.
"I think we're done." I said, turning the lights off.
With a soft smile on his lips, he approached me, one hand on his chest and the other on his gun belt.
With every trigger, my camera took a dozen pictures, and I just showed him the first ones—good pictures, enough for their plans.
"Brilliant." The cop spoke back with his manly, deep voice, but I couldn't help but admire his body while he was standing right next to me.
"Good. I will edit them and send them  over."I smiled politely, and he smiled brightly.
"Sounds good to me." He didn't even realize he was touching himself through his slightly wet uniform pants. I love messing with people's minds, especially the hot ones.
Before he left, we exchanged numbers—for business purposes, of course—and he grabbed his gym back.
"See you around." We shook hands.
"Oh, I will make sure of that. I thought.
338 notes · View notes
stepfordboys · 3 months
Text
Suited
Husbands, Dave and John, swiftly needed suits for a close friend's sudden impromptu wedding. Luckily, the brand-new suit store that had just opened near them was available all night. They rushed over, intending to be in and out as fast as possible, but unbeknownst to the nieve couple, they were about to have a life-changing shopping experience that would quickly eradicate all strive for haste.
When Dave and John first stepped inside, they were immediately assaulted by the thick smell of intense cologne emanating from every corner. The scent was overwhelming but highly masculine, giving their cocks a pleasant twitch. To their surprise, there wasn't a single other customer or shop assistant in sight, but not overthinking it, pursued on.
The overabundance of suits intimidated them, having only worn basic t-shirts and jeans, but they eventually found ones they liked and, most importantly, could afford. They couldn't wait to leave; the intense smell of cologne was beginning to make them feel lightheaded. But, while trying to find a shop assistant, they encountered the endless racks of dress shoes, halting them in their tracks. They had some old, borrowed dress shoes in the car, but the new, freshly polished ones were hypnotically dazzling, begging to be admired and purchased.
As they contemplated which pairs to buy, their minds became more deliriously lightheaded from the cologne, turning them on. The added scent of fresh dress shoe leather intensified that arousal further, excitedly making the hairs on their arms stand up, and their cocks stiffen. With no soul around to stop them, they gave each other a knowing look, and without hesitation, they brought the dress shoes up to their noses and inhaled deeply. After which, they both moaned in dopey satisfaction, the intense masculine scent making their stiff cocks leak pre.
Dave and John were in perverted heaven, enthusiastically sniffing the dress shoes and playing with their stiff bulges. The thrill of potentially being caught pushing their horniness even further. They felt like they were going to explode with lust. They needed release. They needed each other. With looks of total horny desperation, they tossed aside the shoes they were sniffing, along with their picked-out suits, and began ferociously making out. They grasped each other's asses and rubbed their tight bulges together, French kissing and moaning like complete perverts. They wanted to fuck so badly, utterly intoxicated with how horny they felt.
Dave and John, too consumed in their lust, didn't notice the tossed-aside dress shoes and suits had vanished from the floor and materialized onto their bodies, replacing their clothes. They stuffed their hands into each other's pants and stroked one another's throbbing cocks, oblivious to the fact that their clothes had magically changed. Their brains felt like mush, blissfully unaware that their messy hair had magically slicked back to quaffed perfection.
They staggered into a nearby fitting room, unable to stop French kissing and jerking one another off. They needed to fuck, desperate for it. However, catching a glimpse of their reflections in the big, lit-up mirror quickly broke their lustful concentration. Finally, they realized their clothes and hair styling had changed entirely. They gave their reflection and then each other a bewildering look up and down, utterly slack-jawed.
Instantly, as if by divine force, they felt their bodies ignite with an overpowering need to cream their dress pants. Without giving it a second thought, they dry-humped each other, and French kissed even more ferociously than before. It didn't matter that nothing made sense; they were too dumb and horny to care. Besides, it wouldn't matter if they cared or wanted to stop, for the store wouldn't allow it. The store had its hooks in them too deeply, and there was nothing to do but give in entirely.
With ferocious, manly roars, they blasted their hot, sticky loads into their dress pants. However, they didn't just empty their balls but their minds, ejaculating their free will and way of life. For they now belonged to the store, freshly purchased.
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Dave and John, or Davey and Jonathan as they both like to go by now, never did end up attending the wedding. Neither did they ever see their family and friends ever again. As the proud owners of the brand-new suit store, they need to give all their time and attention to their beloved business. Gone are the days of lounging about watching mindless sports and playing senseless video games, but instead, putting all their blood, sweat, and tears into their store and no longer wearing plain T-shirts and jeans but rather flashy dress suits. Their hair is now always slicked back to quaffed perfection, never messy like before. Goodbye, worn-out old sneakers and flip-flops. Hello, perfectly polished dress shoes and leather boots. For now, they were perfect, never to want anything the store didn't see fit.
They're looking to hire, by the way. Any takers ;)
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buck-whitman · 6 months
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These four bros used to be four gay nerds until I invited them over to play ‘Switch.’ Of course they couldn’t resist. What they didn’t know was that they would be switching. Aaron, the one in the hat was the first to feel it. His greasy hair was suddenly popping out into well maintained curls. As he reached up to fix his hat he decided to turn it around with a smirk. Eric, the one next to him, ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. At the same time both boys felt a pain in their feet and kicked off their shoes. Instead of their usual small, nerdy feet they found big jock feet waiting for them.
“Bro! Your feet are huge!”
“Bro yours too! Fuck why am I saying bro?”
Sam, the one on the end let out a deep, dumb chuckle watching his friends, surprising everyone including himself. He looked down and saw he too had removed his shoes, exposing big, elongated feet. What’s more - he could feel a growing urge to remove more clothes and suddenly pulled off his shirt. Instead of his usual flat, pale bird chest he now had a healthy tan and two protruding pecs. Even his arms had gotten thick and muscular.
“Sweet” he bellowed in his new, masculine voice.
“Bros what’s happening to us?” Cried out Jason, the smallest one. He slid his hands under his shirt, feeling hard muscles form. He tried but couldn’t resist pulling off his own shirt. He grabbed his face as his features hardened, losing their dorky roundness and becoming sharper and handsome, he frantically slid his hands up through his hair which was rapidly shortening into a cool bro cut. “No, no, no, I don’t wanna be a dumb, straight bro!” He cried out feeling his brains and sexuality fading away.
“Don’t fight it bro” laughed Eric.
“Yeah bro just give in” chimed in Aaron as both boys eagerly pulled off their shirts and rubbed their new, tan muscles. Eric suddenly moaned and threw his big feet up on the table as Aaron sat back and grinned dumbly. I knew what was happening now. One by one tents started popping out in each boys’ shorts as their dicks lengthened and their minds shifted from video games to boobs and sex. Even Jason’s eyes began to fill with pleasure and hunger as he gave in, surrendering his smarts and gayness.
“How you bros feeling, want some beer?”
Aaron threw out a thumbs up with his big, jockish hand and a dull expression etched into his face. The others followed suit, slowly giving up any hope of being nerds again they accepted the beer - sealing their fates forever. Bros for life… Rescued from the now-deactivated account of "grandwagonranchmaker"
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derekhighwaytf · 9 months
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Eli had sparked quite a reputation as a college sophomore. His infamous university-wide anti-military protests had piqued the attention of Professor Frank Marshall, an American History professor who was once a marine himself. When Eli's final essay, a biting, yet flawed case for slashing the American defense budget landed on Frank's desk, the professor felt compelled to bring him in for a heart-to-heart during office hours.
Eli, however, was as tenacious as he was stubborn. He sat across from Frank in the oak-lined office, launching into an impassioned tirade about banning military recruiters from all school campuses in America. Calmly, Frank handed Eli a faded photograph from his own youthful days in basic training at Parris Island.
Suddenly, Eli's art-trained eyes, usually tuned to distinguish the finest nuances in Van Gogh portraits, refocused into the unfiltered reality of a soldier's perspective. His delicate fingers, usually smeared with paint from making picket signs, hardened and darkened with dirt, pulsating with a strength he had never known. He tried to shake off the sensation, but it was no use; his body was being reformed, repurposed.
With each passing second, his scrawny physique began to shift, muscles emerging and hardening where there was none. His chest broadened, shoulders squared, and his twinkish form swelled into a formidable figure. He could feel his clothing tightening around him as he grew from a wiry 130 lbs to a solid, imposing 190 lbs of pure, hardened steel.
A savage hunger replaced his usual vegan diet, his body now craving meat and potatoes. His earring evaporated into thin air, and as his hand instinctively reached for it, he felt his free-flowing, untamed locks disappear too. His messy mane shrank into a sleek undercut, and then to a neat crew cut, and finally, a bare-bone induction cut, revealing a chiseled jawline and a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. He reached up to feel his new haircut, rubbing his sandpaper head, his growing eight inch plank of wood grinding up against his camouflage uniform.
Eli tried to resist the transformation as best he could, his spirit rebelling against this sudden sense of discipline and masculinity. But every attempt was futile; he was no longer the one in control.
His memories of avant-garde performances and wine-soaked nights were replaced by grueling morning drills and punishing workout sessions. Deep down, he wanted to reach out for his paints, his brushes, but his hands instead found the photo of young Frank Marshall morphing into a snapshot of a young soldier, one of himself—no longer Eli, but Elijah. A proud American willing to do anything to protect his country.  His artistic aspirations were relegated to the backburner, the space in his mind taken over by his new military identity.
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Frank watched as Eli's rebellious spark was now smothered by the spirit of a Marine. Now, there was only Elijah—a paragon of strength, duty, and masculinity. Despite his desperate efforts, Eli had morphed into the one thing he had sworn never to be. His rebellious spirit was finally tamed, replaced by the steady, dutiful beat of a Marine.
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