hypnodumpster

[hypnodumpster]

Training The Taken

My bugs have done it.

I can’t believe it actually worked. I mean, I hoped it would when I snuck those five tiny bugs out of the meteor sample at the lab. They looked so weak. But now? They’re inside the bodies of the five hot studs playing football at the court near my house.

The five of them. Standing shirtless. Still. Eyes glazed. Muscles glistening with sweat.

I’ve been watching them play football from behind the fence earlier. They were loud, sweaty, and full of themselves, playing shirtless like the studs they knew they were. They were having a good time. But now it's my time to have a good time.

The tallest one in black shorts and a thigh tattoo is my neighbor's hot son. We never really talked, but I know his name is Matias. He’s towering, confident, and his legs are built from years of playing football. Matias and his hot friends were known troublemakers around the neighborhood. And I also believe they were part of a gang.

I freed the alien bugs right there on the court, let them scurry out of the container and crawl toward each jock. Then I backed off and just watched. It started slow. One of the guys falls to the ground, grabbing his head. Another groans and collapses to his knees. One by one, they fall, convulsing and shaking violently. The bugs are already inside their heads, turning their brains into nothing but dead matter, with the only purpose of controlling their bodies.

Suddenly, all five of them stood back up. Silent. Controlled. Their eyes were now lifeless. Then, they follow me to my house.

Now here they are, standing in front of me.

I step closer. Matias is taller than the rest, pure muscle and arrogance—except all of that is gone now.

I walk right up to him and press my face into his sweaty armpits, dragging my tongue slowly. The salt and musk coat my taste buds, and I moan into his armpits as I lick higher, cleaning every inch of his hard pecs with long, hungry strokes. His chest twitches slightly under my tongue when I latch on to one of his nipples, but he doesn’t move.

Then I kiss him passionately. My lips crash into his, and though the alien doesn’t respond, I don’t care. I shove my tongue into his mouth, exploring every inch of the warm, unresponsive wet space. The alien inside him lets me do whatever I want.

Panting, I pull back, my hands trembling as I hook my fingers into the waistband of his black shorts and tug them down. His cock flops out, thick and heavy, coated in sweat from the game. I drop to my knees and just stare for a second. His cock and balls are perfect. Covered in the scent of a long game. I lean in, burying my nose into his sweaty balls, letting the smell of him fill my lungs. This alone is enough to make him hard. So I start sucking his cock. Slow at first, letting my lips savor the shape, the salt, the sweat. I lick under his balls, drag my tongue along the base of his shaft, and take him deeper. My nose presses against his groin. I moan around him, worshiping every inch. My spit mixes with his sweat as I bob up and down, completely lost in it.

I glance up.

Matias is looking down at me with innocent, confused eyes. Like he doesn’t understand what I’m doing. Just like the other four.

Then I notice the movement under their shorts. All four of Matias’s hot friends are sporting growing hard-ons, their cocks twitching as I suck their friend. The bugs are connected. Somehow, they’re all feeling the pleasure I’m giving Matias's alien.

The four young men gather around me as I suck Matias, standing in a tight circle. They look down at me with those same blank, glazed-over eyes—totally obedient.

One by one, they reach for their shorts, tugging them down slowly. Thick, throbbing cocks spring free, also glistening with sweat from the soccer match. The aliens inside them want to feel what Matias's alien is feeling as well.

They don't speak. They don't need to. Their twitching erections say everything. The connection between them is undeniable—the pleasure shared. They want it. And I want to give it to them.

So I move to the next hot stud—a cute stud with dyed hair—and take his huge cock into my mouth, savoring the tang of sweat and musk that clings to his thick shaft. I moan around him as I drag my tongue under his balls, inhaling deeply as I worship him with my mouth. He doesn't flinch. He just watches, eyes dazed, cock pulsing.

Then I move to the third, then the fourth. Two are cut, three are uncut. But they’re all huge. I bury my face in their crotches, lick their balls, swallow their thick lengths, making obscene noises as I service each one.

When I finally finish with the last one, my face is sticky with sweat and spit, and my throat aches in the best way.

I then sit on the couch, legs spread, hand wrapped around my painfully hard cock, stroking it slowly. The five hot, naked young men kneel in a line on the floor in front of me. Their muscular bodies are sweatiest than before as each one copies my movements exactly—stroking their cocks in perfect unison, their eyes locked on mine. Observing.

"Good boys," I whisper, moaning. "This is called masturbation, it feels good, doesn't it?"

The aliens didn't respond, but I know they're enjoying it because just like that—they all start cumming at the same time. Grunts escape their lips as they shoot thick ropes of cum across my living room floor, bodies jerking slightly as they unload everything. It’s so synchronized, so surreal, so fucking hot.

As soon as they’re done, they drop onto all fours, crawling around, licking the floor clean. They lap up each other’s cum, their tongues darting out, moaning softly. No hesitation. Just pure alien instinct.

The sight of it pushes me over the edge.

I groan loudly as I cum, my load splashing onto the floor. The five of them instantly notice the new addition. They crawl toward me on all fours and begin licking my cum off the floor. One handsome young man with a neck tattoo starts licking my cock for anything left. I just can't help but grab his head and force him to take everything into his tight throat. The others watch with attention, as if they're fascinated by the act. Some even start to chuckle.

So when the neck tatted stud pulls out, the one with a chest and arm tattoo takes his place and swallows every inch. I just sit relaxed as the aliens make each young man take me down their throats as if that's a fun new game between them.

Next, they follow me to my room. Their hard, throbbing cocks bounce with every step, their blank faces showing no emotion, no resistance. Just quiet, obedience, and curiosity. Once inside, I decide to start the next lesson. They’re all watching me, silently waiting. So I pick Matias first.

"Alright my boys, the next activity is called 'fucking'. And it's a lot more fun than masturbation."

I guide Matias to the bed, and he climbs on without a word. I position him on his back, his sculpted body spread across my sheets, legs lifting up slowly as I direct them. His muscular thighs are raised, ass exposed, and his cock is still hard, resting against his abs. He stares at me with those cute alien eyes.

Time to teach them about how to really have a good time. My shaft is all lubed from their throat juices, so I line myself up and slide my dick into his tight, virgin ass. He doesn't flinch. The alien inside him just lets me in, his hole clenching around me as I start thrusting roughly.

The other four alien-controlled studs watch from the edge of the bed with curious, silent focus. They don’t speak, but they understand. The bugs inside them learn by watching.

I point at two of them—the fit stud with dyed blond hair and the tall one with a neck tattoo. They immediately climb onto the bed on either side of Matias, lying back, legs lifted and spread for the remaining two. The other two studs move without hesitation, getting between their legs, cocks already rock hard and leaking. They position themselves, watching me thrust in and out of Matias, and start mimicking my movements.

Soon, the room is full of heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin, and the smell of sweat. Our hips moved together like a choreographed routine, and I was the choreographer. I was the only one moaning for a while, but that slowly started to change because they started to mimic my moans. Every time I moan in pleasure, they all mimic the same moan in unison. It's all weirdly arousing. I'm in heaven. Watching them learn, watching them mimic, feeling them all fuck together in perfect sync...

I take my time, switching positions, taking turns. I fuck each one of them. Their bodies are perfect and completely mine to enjoy.

Hours later, I collapse exhausted in the middle of the bed, panting, as the five naked, young, brainless friends fuck each other around me.

My alien pets have learned well. And I still have so much more to teach.

[hypnodumpster]

Coach’s New Team

Ethan Rivers was used to being invisible.

He wasn’t unpopular exactly, just… unnoticed. A solid B-student with a knack for computers and a love of science fiction. His best friend, Jeremy Lowell, was the same. Quiet, clever, skinny. The two of them were practically fused at the hip since sixth grade — D&D campaigns, overnight coding binges, shared lunches behind the science wing.

They had one rule: stay out of the spotlight. At Lakewood High, that meant staying away from the jocks.

The football team ruled the halls with protein-shake-fueled testosterone and body odor. The smell of sweat and Axe clung to them like a second skin. They wore their jerseys every day, even in classes. Flexing constantly. Laughing too loud. Picking fights. And yet… they were multiplying.

That’s what first caught Ethan’s attention.

By October, the football team had exploded. Twenty-five players turned into nearly fifty, and many of them were faces Ethan recognized — but not from the field. They were the quiet kids. Smart ones. Weird ones. Honor students.

Now? They were all… different.

Big. Loud. Flexing constantly. Speaking in monosyllables like cavemen. “Bro” in every sentence. And they had that same glassy-eyed look — that same stupid grin.

“Something’s wrong,” Ethan whispered to Jeremy one afternoon in the library. “Liam Brody? He used to be in the math club with you. Now he’s wearing cleats and grunting during AP Calc.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was just me.”

“And Kyle? He was in chess club. Now he’s got biceps like a cartoon character.”

Jeremy leaned in. “There’s a pattern. You notice how all the new jocks were smart kids before?”

Ethan nodded. “Like someone’s… recruiting them.”

“Or changing them.”

That last line hung heavy in the air.

They tried to investigate. It felt stupid at first — like some kind of conspiracy LARP — but the more they looked, the more terrifying it became.

The pattern was real. Every week, one or two nerdy kids would stop showing up to clubs. They’d vanish for a day or two. Then they’d come back bigger, buffer, and a lot dumber. Jockified. Always hanging out by the gym. Talking about “Coach’s new training program.”

Ethan found the transformation photos online.

Old yearbook pictures, class photos. The before and afters were insane. Gaunt, pale, awkward teens turned into bronzed, grinning jocks. Same eyes — but vacant. Always smiling. Always flexing.

Then, on a Thursday morning, Jeremy didn’t show up.

No warning. No texts. No messages.

By the second day, Ethan was spiraling. He asked teachers, classmates, even the front office. “Family emergency,” they said. “Coach Reynolds is checking in on him.” But nobody would say more.

By Friday, Ethan knew something was very wrong.

He snuck into the gym after practice. The place reeked of sweat, protein powder, and something deeper — something feral. The lights buzzed overhead, flickering faintly.

The locker room door was slightly ajar.

Inside, red metal lockers lined the walls like silent sentries. The air was thick and warm. And there, dead center, was Jeremy.

Only it wasn’t Jeremy anymore.

He sat on a bench like a king on his throne. Number 23 stretched across his bulging chest. His thick thighs poured out of tight black pants, calves wrapped in red socks. The cleats were spotless. His arms rested lazily over his knees, massive biceps glistening. He grinned when he saw Ethan.

“Broooo! Yo! Ethan! What’s up, my fuckin’ guy!”

Ethan blinked. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. The voice wasn’t right — deeper, lazier, dumber. And Jeremy’s eyes… they were all wrong. Blue, but empty.

“What… what happened to you?” Ethan whispered.

Jeremy laughed and flexed. “Coach fixed me, bro. Fuckin’ best feelin’ in the world. I used to think too much, bro. Now I lift. I flex. I get so fuckin’ horny, bro.”

“You’re not making sense—”

Jeremy stood. His huge body loomed over Ethan. The scent of sweat and testosterone washed over him like a wave.

“I don’t gotta make sense, bro. I just gotta obey. Coach plays the files — real deep stuff, bro. Gets in your head, loosens all that dumb nerd shit. Makes you wanna grow, wanna serve. I fuckin’ love bein’ Coach’s boy, bro.”

Ethan backed up. “No. You’re not Jeremy. You’re not—”

But two more figures stepped into the locker room.

Liam and Marco.

Both shirtless, pumped beyond reason. Their skin gleamed with sweat. They moved like bouncers — slow, heavy, confident.

“Where you goin’, bro?” Liam grinned. “Can’t leave now.”

“Coach said you were next, bro,” Marco added.

Jeremy grabbed Ethan’s wrist. “You’re gonna love it, bro. Coach wants every nerd fixed, bro. You’re gonna get so dumb, so jock’d, dude. Just gotta hear the files.”

Ethan screamed.

They strapped Ethan to a bench in the trainer’s room. He fought, but it was useless. They were too strong. Too happy.

The headphones came down.

“Welcome, recruit. This is your first induction. You don’t need to think. Thinking is pain. Muscles are power. Obey. Flex. Serve Coach.”

The words were a whisper at first.

Then they were everything.

Ethan’s vision blurred. His limbs felt heavy. His thoughts… slow. Images flashed behind his eyes — jocks flexing, grinning, humping the air, kneeling before a massive figure in a red cap.

“Coach is god. Coach is alpha. You will obey.”

He moaned.

“You used to be weak. Now you’re strong. Used to think. Now you obey.”

Sweat beaded down his temples.

His spine arched. His muscles swelled, screamed. Something changed in his brain. A mental firewall crumbled. All that fear, resistance — replaced with need.

Need to serve. Need to grow. Need to be a jock.

When the files stopped, Ethan stood slowly.

The reflection in the mirror was unreal. Towering. Bulky. Glossy red jersey hugging his swollen pecs. Abs bulging. Arms like steel beams. Thighs bursting through black compression pants.

He grinned stupidly.

“Bro…”

Jeremy clapped his back.

“Knew you’d love it, bro. You look fuckin’ alpha.”

“Dude, I feel so jock’d up. So fuckin’ horny, bro.”

Coach Reynolds walked in, silent and commanding. The room went still. Every jock turned and knelt.

Ethan knelt too. Grinning. Sweating. Heart pounding.

“Coach,” he moaned. “I’m ready to serve, bro.”

Coach smiled.

“Good boy.”

[hypnodumpster]

Possessed by Pleasure

(AI Generated)

The summer sun beat down mercilessly on the empty park, the air thick with humidity that clung to everything like a second skin. Colton, a broad-shouldered college jock with a mop of blonde hair plastered to his forehead, chucked another rock at the ducks gliding across the pond. The splash echoed in the stillness, the ducks scattering with indignant quacks. He wiped sweat from his brow, his tank top soaked through, clinging to his chiseled frame. 

Nearby, Samuel sprawled across a weathered bench, his muscular legs splayed wide, fanning himself lazily with his baseball cap. His thick, curly mullet dripped sweat onto his neck, the dark brown strands matted against his tanned skin. His hairy chest glistened under the open shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, the heat making him careless.

“Man, this summer’s a fuckin’ drag,” Colton groaned, tossing another rock. “No parties, no chicks, just our dumbass parents nagging us about school.”

Samuel snorted, tilting his cap back to reveal his sharp green eyes. “Tell me about it, bro. My old man’s on my case about grades again. Like I give a shit about calculus when I could be balls-deep in some sorority girl.” He grinned, crude and unapologetic, scratching at the coarse hair on his chest. “Remember that blonde from the Kappa house? Swear she was begging for it after, like, two beers.”

Colton laughed, a low, arrogant sound. “Yeah, dude, you’re such a stud. Bet she’s still dreaming about that mullet tickling her thighs.” 

They cackled, their voices carrying across the empty park, brimming with the careless bravado of youth. They were kings of their own small world, untouchable in their shared arrogance, lazy in their disregard for anyone but themselves.

Boredom gnawed at them, the kind that made trouble sound like fun. “Let’s head into town,” Samuel suggested, sitting up and cracking his knuckles. “Steal some shit, mess with people. You know, the usual.”

Colton’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Fuck yeah. Let’s see how many of those old farts we can piss off before dinner.” 

They grabbed their stuff, littering the park with empty soda cans and chip bags without a second thought, and kicked over a “No Loitering” sign by the park entrance for good measure. The crunch of metal under Samuel’s sneaker made them both laugh as they sauntered toward town, their strides long and confident.

The main street was quiet, the heat keeping most folks indoors. They passed a diner, where Samuel flipped off a waitress who glared at them through the window, and stopped outside an antique store tucked between a barber shop and a laundromat. The faded sign read “Mabel’s Oddities,” and the window displayed dusty trinkets and creepy porcelain dolls that made Colton shudder exaggeratedly.

“This place looks like a fuckin’ haunted house,” he muttered, but his grin betrayed his interest.

Inside, the air was musty, thick with the scent of old wood and mothballs. Shelves overflowed with junk—rusted candelabras, chipped teacups, a taxidermied owl that seemed to stare right through them. Behind the counter sat an old woman, her hair a wild nest of gray, her eyes sharp and suspicious. She wore a shawl that looked older than the town itself, and her voice rasped like dry leaves when she warned them, “Don’t touch nothin’ unless you’re buyin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, chill, grandma,” Samuel said, flashing a smirk as he poked at a brass lamp. 

The woman, presumably Mabel, glared but said nothing, her fingers tightening around a cane propped against the counter. Colton wandered toward the back, nudging Samuel and nodding toward a glass case behind the counter. Inside was an ancient tome, its leather cover cracked and adorned with strange, swirling sigils that seemed to pulse under the dim light. A small brass lock held it shut, glinting faintly.

“Dude,” Colton whispered, his eyes gleaming. “That book looks like some Harry Potter shit. Bet it’s worth something.”

Samuel’s grin widened. “Let’s snag it. You distract the old hag, I’ll grab it.” 

Colton nodded, sauntering to the back of the store where he “accidentally” knocked over a shelf of glass figurines. The crash was deafening, and Mabel hobbled over, cursing under her breath. Samuel seized the moment, slipping behind the counter with the grace of a practiced thief. His fingers worked quickly, picking the lock on the case with a paperclip he kept in his pocket for exactly this kind of thing. The tome was heavier than it looked, its pages yellowed and brittle, but he tucked it under his arm and whistled sharply. Colton bolted for the door, Samuel close behind, their laughter echoing as they sprinted down the street.

Mabel stood at the entrance, shaking her fist and screaming, “You little shits! You’ll regret touchin’ that book!” 

Samuel turned, flipping her off with both hands. “Suck it, you old bitch! Go back to your cauldron!” They disappeared around the corner, the tome pressed against Samuel’s sweat-soaked shirt, their cackling fading into the humid air.

—

Back at Samuel’s house, the two sprawled in the living room, the AC barely keeping up with the heat. The tome sat on the coffee table, its presence oddly commanding. Its leather cover was warm to the touch, the sigils seeming to writhe when caught in the corner of their eyes. Colton pried open the lock with a pocketknife, revealing pages filled with incomprehensible text, the ink faded but still dark in places, some smeared with what looked like dried blood. The metallic scent hit them both, and Samuel wrinkled his nose. “What the fuck is this? Some kinda vampire diary?”

Colton flipped through, stopping on a page with a vivid illustration. It showed a circle of naked figures—men and women locked in a writhing, orgiastic embrace around a pentagram. Above them hovered a horned creature, its form both grotesque and alluring, with a tail curling like smoke. 

“Yo, check out the tits on that one,” Colton said, pointing at a woman in the drawing, his voice dripping with juvenile glee.

Samuel laughed, but his eyes caught something else—a scrawled translation beneath the pentagram, written in shaky Latin. 

“Hey, look at this. Someone wrote what it says.” Without thinking, he read the words aloud, his voice stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables: “Ego invoco te, Xaz’zaraul, filius Asmoseros, dominus libidinis…” 

The incantation rolled off his tongue, each word heavier than the last, until the final syllable hung in the air like a thunderclap.

The world went silent. The hum of the AC, the distant chirp of cicadas, even the creak of the house all vanished. The air thickened, pressing against their skin, and a wave of dread washed over them, primal and suffocating. 

Colton’s eyes widened. “Yo, Sam, you feel that?”

Before his friend could answer, a deep, sultry voice purred from behind them, “Oh, I definitely felt that.”

Hands, warm, strong, and unnervingly heavy suddenly settled on their shoulders. They yelped, scrambling forward and spinning to face the intruder.

He was massive, at least seven feet tall, his skin a deep, blood-red that seemed to glow faintly in the dim room. Black, wiry hair covered his broad chest and scalp, framing a face that was both youthful and wickedly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a goatee that he stroked with long, clawed fingers. A tattered cloth hung low around his hips, barely covering him, and a long, whip-like tail swayed lazily behind. The air around him shimmered with heat, carrying a scent that was intoxicating—sweat, musk, and something primal that made their pulses race.

Colton stammered, “What… what the fuck are you?”

The creature bowed with a flourish, his tail flicking playfully. “Xaz’zaraul, at your service. But you boys can call me Raul. One of the thirteen sons of Asmoseros, lord of lust and carnal delight.” His voice was like velvet, each word dripping with promise. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he savored the humid air of the room. “It’s been… oh, two thousand years since I last tasted the mortal world. You boys opened a lovely little rift for me to slip through.”

Samuel’s shirt, discarded on the couch earlier, caught Raul’s eye. He bent down, picking it up with a reverence that was almost obscene, and pressed it to his face. His long, forked tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat-soaked fabric, his sharp teeth grazing it as he moaned softly. “Such… vitality,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Samuel, pale and trembling, shouted, “You’re a fucking sex demon?!”

Raul’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Precisely.” He dropped the shirt, his gaze sweeping over them both, lingering on Samuel’s hairy chest, slick with sweat from the heat. “And I’m here to indulge. But first, I need a human vessel. A permanent home in this world.” 

His eyes locked onto Samuel, predatory and hungry. “You’ll do nicely.”

Samuel bolted for the door, his heart pounding, but Raul vanished in a blur, reappearing in front of him with a chuckle. “Now, now, where’s the fun in running?” 

Samuel skidded to a halt, fists raised, his voice shaking but defiant. “I’ll kick your ass back to whatever fucked-up hell you crawled out of!”

Raul laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “I admire that fire. It’ll taste divine.” 

Before Samuel could swing, Raul’s hand shot out, clawed fingers tangling in the jock’s curly mullet. Samuel froze, his body seizing as if struck by lightning. His eyes rolled back, turning milky white, and his limbs trembled violently, muscles twitching under his sweat-slicked skin. 

Raul threw his head back, moaning, “More! More! Give me more!” His voice was ecstatic, feeding off whatever he was pulling from Samuel.

Seconds later, the shaking stopped. Samuel’s fists dropped, his shoulders slumped, and his head lolled forward. His eyes returned to their normal green, but they were empty, unfocused, like windows to a vacant house. His jaw hung slack, a thin line of drool trickling down his chin, pooling on his hairy chest.

Colton, frozen in horror, choked out, “What did you do to him?”

Raul smirked, his voice suddenly shifting seamlessly into Samuel’s, complete with the faint Texan drawl. “I vacated the premises, bro. Flushed out all that pesky personality, memories, everything that made him… Samuel. He’s an empty vessel now, ready for me.” He winked, his expression so eerily Samuel that Colton’s stomach churned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got all his essence. I’ll slide right into his life, and no one will ever know.”

Colton tried to run, but his body wouldn’t move, his limbs locked as if bound by invisible chains. He could only scream, his voice hoarse. “Let us go, you freak!”

Raul wagged a finger, his voice back to its sultry timbre. “Oh, Colton, where’s the fun in that? Stay. Watch the show.”

He turned to Samuel’s mindless body, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Leaning close, he whispered into Samuel’s ear, words too soft and guttural to decipher, a low chant that seemed to vibrate through the air. 

Samuel’s body suddenly jerked to life, moving with a clumsy, puppet-like grace, as if strings were pulling him from within. His hands fumbled at his belt, fingers trembling as they unbuckled it, the leather sliding through the loops with a slow, deliberate rasp. His jeans fell to his ankles, followed by his boxers, the fabric catching briefly on his thick thighs before pooling on the floor. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, glistening with sweat in the humid air, the tip twitching as if responding to an unseen command.

Samuel’s face twisted into a vacant, perverse grin, his mouth slurring incoherent groans, “Uhh… nngh… f-feels…” His voice was thick, sluggish, barely forming words, each sound dripping with drool that spilled from his slack jaw, sliding down his chin and onto his hairy chest.

His hands moved mechanically, guided by Raul’s will, fingers grazing his nipples, pinching them until they hardened. His groans grew louder, more animalistic, “G-good… uhh… m-more…” His body shuddered with each touch, his muscles flexing involuntarily, sweat beading and rolling down his torso, catching in the coarse hair that spread across his pecs and trailed down to his navel.

Raul stepped closer, his presence radiating heat that made the air shimmer. He pressed his nose into the crook of Samuel’s neck, inhaling deeply, his long tongue flicking out to taste the salt of Samuel’s skin. 

“This flesh,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent growl, “so ripe, so brimming with primal energy.”

His clawed fingers traced the contours of Samuel’s back, lingering on the curve of his spine, then sliding up to tangle in the damp curls of his mullet. He tugged gently, tilting Samuel’s head back, exposing the taut line of his throat. Samuel’s empty eyes stared at the ceiling, his mouth open, drool pooling and dripping in slow, viscous strands.

Raul’s hands roamed lower, skimming over Samuel’s hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above his groin. Samuel’s cock twitched, hardening fully, precum beading at the tip and sliding down the shaft, mixing with the sweat that coated his skin. Raul’s tail slithered forward, its tip curling around Samuel’s thigh, the smooth, warm surface brushing against his inner leg, teasingly close to his balls.

Samuel’s body reacted instinctively, his hips jerking forward, a slurred moan escaping his lips, “Nngh… s-so… gooood… uuuh…” His face contorted into a lewd grimace, his tongue lolling slightly, drool spilling onto his chest, glistening in the dim light.

The demon’s hands guided Samuel’s own, one wrapping around his cock, the other kneading his pecs, fingers digging into the muscle, tugging at the coarse hair. Raul moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every reaction, every twitch of Samuel’s mindless body. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing Samuel’s ear, whispering more incomprehensible words that made Samuel’s groans deepen, his voice a low, guttural, “F-fuuuck… nnngh… p-please…” The words were barely coherent, a string of slurred syllables driven by pure sensation, his body a puppet to Raul’s perverse control.

Across the room, a mirror reflected the scene, but Raul’s form was invisible. It was just Samuel, standing alone, his hand stroking his cock with slow, rhythmic motions, his face twisted into a perverse smirk that looked wrong, alien on his features. His hairy chest heaved with each breath, sweat and drool mixing into a slick sheen that caught the light.

Colton, paralyzed, could only watch, his pleas growing weaker, his voice cracking. “Stop it… please… that’s my best friend…”

Raul’s voice shifted back to Samuel’s, taunting, the Texan drawl dripping with mockery. “Yo, bro, check it out. Feels so fuckin’ good jerkin’ my fat cock. Look at it, man, fuckin’ throbbing.” 

He sped up the strokes, Samuel’s hips bucking in rhythm, the wet slapping of skin growing louder, more frantic. Samuel’s body was a perfect marionette, every movement dictated by Raul’s will, his thighs trembling, his cock leaking steadily now, precum dripping onto the floor in thick, glistening drops. 

His groans were a constant stream of slurred nonsense, “Uhh… f-feels… s-sooo… nngh… g-goood…” His eyes remained vacant, but his face twisted into expressions of raw, mindless pleasure, his mouth hanging open, drool pooling and spilling, his tongue flicking out instinctively.

Raul’s tail tightened around Samuel’s thigh, the tip brushing higher, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath his balls. Samuel’s body shuddered violently, his hips thrusting forward, his cock pulsing in his hand. Raul’s fingers slid down Samuel’s chest, tracing the lines of muscle, circling his navel, then dipping lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. 

Samuel’s groans grew louder, more desperate, “M-more… uhh… f-fuuck… nngh… meee…” His voice was a broken record of pleasure, each sound punctuated by the wet slap of his hand on his cock, the slick sound filling the room like a perverse symphony.

Raul leaned back, his eyes gleaming with delight as he watched Samuel’s body writhe under his control. He pressed his chest against Samuel’s back, his red skin hot against the jock’s sweat-slicked flesh, guiding both of Samuel’s hands now—one stroking his cock, the other pinching and twisting his nipple. The demon’s long tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat on Samuel’s neck, then trailing down to his shoulder, tasting the salt and musk with a low, satisfied moan. 

“This body is a fucking feast,” Raul purred, his voice vibrating against Samuel’s skin. “Every inch of it, pulsing with desire. I can’t wait to play with you forever.”

Samuel’s body responded with a shudder, his hips bucking harder, his cock throbbing in his hand. His face was a mask of mindless ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open in a constant stream of drool and slurred groans, “G-good… uughh… s-so… f-fuuuuck…”

His thighs trembled, his muscles flexing and relaxing in waves, his body entirely at the mercy of Raul’s touch. The demon’s tail slid higher, the tip brushing against Samuel’s cock, curling around the base and squeezing gently, eliciting another slurred moan, “Nngh… p-please… m-more…”

Raul’s grin widened, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Time for the finale, Samuel. Cum for me. Let me in.” 

He pressed himself fully against Samuel’s back, his red-skinned form aligning perfectly with the jock’s sweat-soaked body. Samuel’s face flushed red, his grin blissful and empty, his thighs spasming as his cock pulsed harder, the precum flowing freely now, coating his hand and dripping onto the floor. Raul’s hands tightened on Samuel’s, guiding the strokes with fierce intensity, the rhythm relentless, the wet slapping echoing through the room.

Then, with a devious chuckle, Raul began to merge with Samuel’s body. His red skin shimmered as he pressed himself into Samuel’s back, his form sinking into the jock’s flesh. The invasion was slow, deliberate, each inch of Raul’s body melding with Samuel’s, the sensation overwhelming. 

Samuel’s body convulsed violently, his eyes crossing, his hips thrusting wildly as if trying to escape the intrusion but unable to resist. His groans became a cacophony of slurred, incoherent sounds, “Nngh…yeees… f-fuuck… c-cum… uuhh… i-inside…” 

His cock throbbed, the tip swollen, and with a final, shuddering thrust, he erupted. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering his hairy chest, his face, and the mirror across the room. The orgasm was relentless, wave after wave, his body jerking with each pulse, cum mixing with the sweat and drool that coated him, his face twisted in blissful, mindless pleasure.

Raul’s tail was the last to disappear, slithering into Samuel’s back with a final, obscene wriggle. Samuel’s body arched, his head thrown back, a guttural scream tearing from his throat as the demon fully claimed him. His cock continued to spew, the cum pooling on the floor, streaking his thighs, and matting the hair on his chest. 

His body slumped briefly, jerking erratically, then straightened, standing tall as he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes rolled back, then snapped forward, no longer vacant but gleaming with a devious, unfamiliar light.

Colton, tears streaming down his face, whispered, “Sam?”

The figure turned, grinning. “Of course it’s me, bro. Your best friend since middle school.” 

The voice was wrong—Raul’s deep, sultry tone. He laughed, catching himself, and shifted back to Samuel’s voice, complete with the Texan drawl. “Whoops. Sorry, but Samuel’s gone now. His body and mind, however, are all mine to keep.” 

He stretched, flexing Samuel’s biceps, then buried his face in Samuel’s hairy armpit, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, this flesh is exquisite.” His tongue lapped at the sweat, a low moan escaping as he savored it.

He ran his hands over Samuel’s chest, smearing cum across the hair, then scooped some from the floor and licked it off his fingers, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

“This body’s a goddamn masterpiece,” he purred, flexing again, admiring the taut muscles. “Not as strong as my old form, but the sensations… worth it.”

Colton’s voice was barely a whisper. “W-What about me?”

The new Samuel sauntered over, grabbing Colton’s chin and licking the side of his face, tasting the salt of his tears and sweat. 

“Don’t worry, bro,” he said, his voice dripping with Samuel’s cadence. “My younger demon brother’s dying to try on some human flesh. You’ll make a fine vessel.” He grinned, the expression alien on Samuel’s face, a perverse mask hiding the demon within. “We’re gonna have so much fun with this world.”

Colton’s tears fell faster, licked away by the demon’s tongue. The room reeked of sweat, cum, and something darker, the air heavy with the consequences of their reckless theft. The tome lay forgotten on the table, its pages fluttering as if stirred by an unseen wind, a silent witness to the demonic desires now unleashed into the world.

The End & Beginning of the Lust Demon's Era...

[hypnodumpster]

[hypnodumpster]

"So......he will not move?"

"Not even an inch. Well, unless I told him otherwise,"

"Even if I punch him?"

"Go on, try it. See if he will flinch,"

So Eddie tried to punch the frozen, dormant Luke right on his face and stopped with mere 1 centimetre left between his fist and Luke's nose. Not even a blink. Eddie then grinned at the already grinning Casper

"Bro, this is sick,"

"Yeah, even better if you can be like him too, Eddie," and suddenly Casper directed the barrell of technologically-advanced right to Eddie's heart before pulling the trigger. Eddie's once excited face dramatically turned into horror before eventually shifted once more to a rather stoic and statuesque facial expression

"Perfect,"

"Now Luke, I want you to take him under your wing. Teach him everything I taught you, like how to clean the house, prepare my meal, keep your body fit and of course how do you polish my knob and overall serviced my body. I believe you can do it, and at least now it's not all lonely for you to handle everything all by yourself. This is very generous of me, don't you think?"

"Yes Master, very generous, and I'm forever thankful for it. But, will you dispose me for him, Master?"

"Of course not, you two can service me interchangably as long as Weel is not coming back yet from his adventures across the world learning about the various life on Earth. He gave me this device to enslave you and others knowing full well he will leave for quite some times, so I'm not planning to dispose anyone,"

"Okay then Master. Well, hello there, mentee. I will have a lot of fun molding you into Master Casper's perfect slave,"

Casper just grinned upon listening to Luke's statement. This cool device from his advanced alien friend is really amazing, but so far he only explored the feature Weel taught him. What about these other commands he can try on? Hmmm....maybe he needs some more test subjects.....

[hypnodumpster]

[hypnodumpster]

First time criminals in slave world were locked into the VR and often made to virtually experience second stage punishments. This is normally enough to prevent repeat offences. Second stage punishments are permanent and real. One such punishment is to destroy a slave’s mind. This is done with the edging belts and mind control helmets which are specifically designed to create sensations more intense than the body can normally experience. Special sensors make sure that the prisoner is right at the edge but can’t release. This invokes a level of frustration and desperation that slowly breaks the mind. The helmet detects and alters the prisoner’s brainwaves. In this case the prisoner is kept awake for 24 hours by constant edging. The closer to sleep the more intense. After 24 hours the victim is allowed to sleep, but subliminal messaging convinces the prisoner that he is a puppy. The edging is reactivated during REM sleep to reinforce the programming. At the height of the REM cycle the victim is allowed to cum but held in the sleep state which locks in the illusion and destroys the prisoners view of self. Eventually the prisoner will forget he is human and think he is a puppy. Since this is the only way that the prisoner can find release he becomes complicit in the programming. This prevents future transgressions and the state can sell the puppy to recoup the cost of the incarceration. Once completely finished, the puppy undergoes nanite reconstruction and is permanently locked into a puppy suit.

[hypnodumpster]

DNA Drone

The blindfold came off, and Greg cried out in shock as the beautiful woman that had asked him to join her in her hotel room collapsed onto the floor. Her body trembled as some kind of black mass of tendrils and slime emerged from the mouth and stood before him.

“Nrgh, fuck, fuck…!” Greg muttered to himself as he tried to free himself from his bondage to no avail. “H-Help—MFF!” Before Greg could cry for help, one of the creature’s tendrils wrapped itself around his face and sealed his mouth shut.

And then, it began. From the creature’s shiny, black body emerged multiple tendrils of varying length and girth. Greg shook his head, despite knowing how little difference that would make. Then, before anything else, a small tendril traveled up his body and slithered inside of his ear. Greg let out a muffled groan of discomfort but also pleasure as his legs kicked and slammed on the bed. The tendril crawled through his ear canal and straight to his brain, piercing the soft and squishy flesh as chills went down Greg’s spine.

Knowledge and memories leaked between the two of them. Visions of a world completely removed from his own flashed in Greg’s mind; as well his own thoughts and memories. For a moment, Greg wasn’t sure where the creature ended and where he began. The lines between man and monster blurred until, finally, the information exchange finally ended. The tendril remained in his ears, but Greg could feel his vision return as he stared up at the drone before him. “A fucking sci-fi experiment…?” he said through exhausted gasps.

It was a drone designed for one purpose: to gather genetic information. “This is the only way we can survive,” its creator had said the day the drone activated. “Our species has been cloning itself so much so that the genetic variation has been lost. The only we have left… is you, my little drone. Find those distant cousins of ours, obtain their genetic codes, and bring life back to our dying world.” And just like a parent would, the drone’s creator had picked it up and hugged it. “I have faith in you. You’re going to do great.”

One Earthly rotation around the sun alter, it finally arrived. And after months of infiltration and experimentation in various human bodies, the drone had realized that it was far more effective and enjoyable for it to gather genetic material from the males of the species.

And in exchange, the drone had learned much about him—mainly, where each of Greg’s more erogenous zones were: his chest, his armpits, and his thighs. Greg gulped and tried to break out of his binds again, to no avail. The drone loomed taller over him. Several more tendrils emerged from its body and slowly grow closer despite Greg’s muffled protests.

The DNA harvest began.

To start, two tendrils wiggled in the air before caressing Greg’s exposed armpits. Greg let out a muffled gasps as the grooved surfaces of the drone’s tentacles drive his body crazy. His nipples hardened and his cock, previously flaccid once he had gotten a look at the drone, now stood at half-mast. Greg tried to convince himself that he was going crazy, that there was no way he could get hard from such a monster caressing him, but he couldn’t deny just how good it felt.

Next was the chest. Two smaller tendrils equipped with suckers attached themselves to Greg’s chest. “MMRRRFF!” Greg’s back bent into a sharp C as shivers of ecstasy echoed throughout his body. He was being attacked from both fronts, and his sanity was quickly waning. However, he would not submit. He knew what this disgusting creature wanted, and his sole act of rebellion would be to deny that. I’m not gonna cum, you piece of shit, he smugly though, knowing the drone would be able to hear his thoughts.

There was no response, but the assault continued. However, almost half-an-hour into the process, Greg remained strong, and he could tell how frustrated the drone was getting.

[Subject is unusually resilient. No matter.] Greg blanched as he felt something poke against his most sacred place. He looked down to see a particularly phallic tendril had slithered under the sheets and was now teasing his quivering, virgin hole. [Ah, so he finally noticed.]

N-No, not there, thought Greg, panicked. Anywhere but there—AAAAHHHH! Greg shut his eyes as a thin tendril slammed into his ass. He was about to start protesting before it slowly drew back and slammed into him again. He could feel it growing thicker as it filled him up and slimming down as it slid out. Greg slammed his head against the pillows, hips quivering as he started to break down.

He wouldn’t last much longer. Both of them knew that. His core was tensing up, and he could no longer keep his eyes open. He was drowning in the pleasure… all according to plan. Satisfied, the drone grew closer and revealed its final tool: a long, stretchy sucker. It shot through the air and engulfed Greg’s cock. Greg writhed again as he could no longer resist. His eyes opened before they rolled up to the back of his head. His toes curled, gripping the bed’s sheets as his entire body trembled. The tendril that had served as a gag withdrew as Greg shouted, “I-I’M FUCKING CUMMING!” with all of his chest.

His whole body convulsed like he was being electrocuted. His cock, rock-hard and leaking for the better part of an hour, finally shot load after load of sticky cum that the drone eager lapped up. It felt like an entire cylinder of tongue was lapping up and down Greg’s cock. “F-Fuck, I-I can’t stop…!” he whined, body curling up and slamming against the bed in desperation. “Please, please make it stop!” he begged. “I-I wanna stop… cumming…” Greg’s voice faltered and petered out as he lost consciousness. However, his hips continued to thrust into the air as the drone milked him dry.

Already, the drone worked on storing the genetic sample inside of itself. In the meantime, it looked down at the unconscious Greg. Slowly, as if handling something fragile, it set down the older man and slashed the rope apart with a particularly sharpened tendril. [Unlike previous hosts,] the drone observed, [this one is much hairier, thicker, and larger. It should prove to be a much easier husk to hide in. Yes, the males of this species will be especially useful for our purposes.]

Satisfied with its results, the drone set out to begin infiltration. The drone drew back its sucker as licking up the last drops of cum from Greg’s red, agitated dick. The drone thinned out its body and crawled over Greg’s body, slithering its way until it reached his open, drooling mouth. Then, it lurched forward and entered, flexing and stretching as it forced Greg’s mouth open even wider.

Even unconscious, Greg’s body still resisted the foreign invasion. He began convulsing, his hairy legs rubbing against each other in the ensuing struggle. The bed creaked and groaned as Greg’s body thrust and rubbed up against the sheets. Then, he curled up into a ball and shivered as his whole body was taken over. The drone spread, engulfing Greg’s brain, spine, and infecting his entire nervous system. “Nrgh, argh...f-fuck…” And once more, Greg’s body was used and abused by the drone.

Once Greg finally settled down, he rose up to a sitting position and shivered. “Oh, it always feels good to be inside of another male,” he said, looking down and rubbing his chest with his new, rough and calloused hands. “Ohhh…” Greg swung his legs over and stood up, admiring his newfound strength. He stepped over the unconscious body of his old host and made his way to the bathroom mirror. “Mmm, yes, this vessel will be good for extracting more DNA from other men,” he said, licking his lips as he appreciated his new reflection.

However, it would be suspicious if his vernacular remained as it was. Greg shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and burst into a bright smile. “Yup yup, it’s me, Greg!” he said with a friendly wave and a slightly flex of his pecs—not exactly like Greg, but close enough to not arouse much suspicion.

A few nights later, in a different hotel room, Greg grinned as he thrust in and out a younger man he had picked up from the club. He couldn’t remember his name, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the tight hole he was pounding and the cum that would soon flow. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, that’s it!” he said, enjoying the strength he possessed.

“Ohhh, yes daddy, right there!” The young man under him moaned. He bit his finger and gripped the sheets until his knuckles were white as Greg widened his hole. “F-Fuck, I’m getting close. Harder, harder!” said the young man, throwing his head back in ecstasy as Greg picked up the pace. The young man winced and shut his eyes. It was so good yet so big. Was Greg growing even bigger? It was an odd feeling, but he was in so much pleasure that he didn’t even care.

The young man let out a yelp as he felt something slimy and warm engulf his cock. He chuckled. “Is that a toy, daddy?” he said, chuckling as he looked back at Greg.

His smile dropped as he saw the horrifying sight that awaited him. “Wh-Whuh…?” he stammered out. A long, black tentacle had come out of Greg’s mouth and had engulfed his cock like a flesh toy.. “H-Help—MMFF!”

Greg pressed his hand against the young man’s mouth and pinned him down with his much larger mass. The young man convulsed as the sucker and Greg's cock kept pleasuring him until he finally started cumming. He moaned into Greg’s sweaty palm as he too was milked dry by the drone. Then, he tensed up as, once his cock was finally spent, something else was slithered inside of him through his urethra.

The last of the drone slid out of an unconscious Greg and pinned the young man to the bed as he began to convulse. Soon, he too would he an asset to save the species, used and abused to collect more and more DNA samples to save a dying species.

The drone would complete its mission, no matter what.

[hypnodumpster]

[hypnodumpster]

[hypnodumpster]

The owner of Club Mesmer watched as a Detective Johnson slowly pushed down his briefs to reveal his locked cock. Little did the Detective know that he had been hypnotized by the owner over 3 months ago and now works every weekend as a nude bartender and hole for the customers.

[hypnodumpster]

[hypnodumpster]

Turn A Bully Into A Drone

The moment Ethan stepped into the empty locker room, he knew his plan had worked. The shower was running and there he was—Jace, his high school tormentor, standing under the water, his white dress shirt completely drenched and clinging to his muscular body while wearing black speedos. His chiseled abs and big, perky pecs were fully visible through the soaked fabric, and his face... Blank. Emotionless. Obedient.

Ethan's hands reached out and unbuttoned Jace's shirt, revealing his big pecs.

Ethan’s heart raced as he took in the sight. It had all led up to this. The months of planning, the late nights spent perfecting the nanorobots, the careful engineering to ensure they would only activate upon contact with Jace’s skin. He had spent years enduring Jace’s cruel pranks, his cocky smirks, and the way he strutted around the school like he owned it. Jace was feared by everyone, and this granted him the title of the leader of the most arrogant group of jocks.

But now he was standing motionless, allowing the nerd he used to bully to enjoy the sight of his muscular body.

It had been easy for Ethan. Despite being a troublemaker, Jace was the golden boy of the swim team and would spend hours in the pool every day. All Ethan had to do was introduce the microscopic machines into the water supply and let them do their work. The moment Jace dove in, the nanorobots detected their target and swarmed toward him, slipping through his pores, traveling through his bloodstream, and finally settling in his brain. They rewrote his brain cells, stripped away his arrogance, his free will, and molded him into exactly what Ethan wanted.—His personal drone.

And the proof was right there. A small tattoo of a triangle behind Jace’s ear—a mark left by the nanorobots once their work was complete. Ethan had spotted it this morning when Jace took a swim, when he stepped out of the pool, his usual swagger was gone, his movements just a little too stiffy, his eyes just a little too empty.

Ethan watched as the swimmers all went to the locker room, and went home after getting dressed. Jace was the only one who stayed behind.

And now, here he was, standing under the shower, waiting for Ethan just like the nanorobots were programmed to do.

Ethan stepped forward and reached out, slowly pressing his palm against Jace’s broad, wet chest, feeling the firm warmth beneath the wet skin. Jace had always been built, his swimmer’s body honed to perfection. He would have never allowed a guy like Ethan to touch him, but now there was no resistance, no cocky smirk, no taunting insult. Just stillness.

Ethan let his fingers roam lower, finding one of Jace’s nipples. He gave it a testing pinch, rolling it between his fingers. Jace shuddered. A small, involuntary gasp slipped from his lips, but he didn’t move away.

“You like that? You arrogant prick,” Ethan murmured, squeezing his pecs harder. “From now on, these are mine. You understand?”

Jace’s lips parted. “Yes… Master. These pecs are yours.” His voice was distant, dreamy, like a zombie.

The triangle mark on his neck glowed with blue light for a few seconds, indicating that a new command had been installed in Jace's brain.

Ethan grinned. “You’re gonna be my obedient toy now, Jace. No more bullying, no more acting like you’re better than me. From now on, you’re gonna crave my touch.” His hands moved with purpose, pinching both of Jace’s nipples and twisting. Hard. Jace let out a strangled moan, his legs trembling. Ethan felt a rush of power, of pure satisfaction. This was what he deserved.

Before, Jace would have punched Ethan just for looking at his pecs. Now, all Jace could think about was how those slabs of muscles on his chest weren't his anymore, but now belonged to Ethan.

“My touch makes you so horny,” Ethan cooed, rubbing slow circles around Jace’s hardened buds. “Your pecs are so sensitive now. So sensitive that from now on, you can only cum when I play with them.”

The triangle mark glowed again, Jace gasped, his entire body quivering under the shower’s stream. “Please…”

Ethan smirked. “Please what?”

"Please make me cum, Master!" Jace let out a desperate whimper, but Ethan wasn’t feeling generous. He pinched harder, twisting cruelly, and Jace let out a deep, shuddering moan. His whole body tensed, and his cock thobbed inside his tight speedos—then he came, his face contorted in helpless pleasure.

Ethan chuckled, stepping back to admire his work. Jace stood there, panting, his dick printed in his speedos, still leaking cum. The triangle mark behind his ear was a permanent reminder of who he belonged to now.

“You're such a pervert, Jace. Now kneel and suck me off. Play with your nipples as you do it.” Ethan ordered.

The triangle was glowing again, Jace’s blank eyes slowly focused on him, and for the first time in his life, there was no arrogance, no cruelty—just need. Desperation.

And from that day on, Jace changed. He stopped shoving Ethan in the hallways, stopped laughing at him with his friends. Instead, he was always walking beside Ethan, his eyes pleading, wanting him to play with his pecs all the time. And Ethan would whenever he wanted.

Ethan would use Jace's pecs to jerk off, suck, or simply to torture the once-arrogant jock. One time, Ethan used a waterproof marker to write 'Owned by Ethan' on Jace's chest just before his turn in a swimming competition. It became the school's only talk for a whole week. It was all anyone at school talked about for a whole week.

Ethan even made Jace kneel in front of him in the hallway and beg him to play with his "tits" right in front of his jock friends... let's say he wasn't their leader anymore after that day, but Jace couldn't care less, all he cared about was Ethan using his pecs for his pleasure.

______________________

Seven years had passed since high school, and Ethan had long since moved on from his past with Jace. The nanorobots, however, had not. They remained nestled deep in Jace’s brain, an unseen force that still bound him to the programming Ethan had left behind. Ethan wasn’t cruel—he had allowed Jace to live his life normally. He could date, he could have sex, he could go about his days as if nothing had changed. But there was one thing he could never escape: he could only orgasm when playing with his pecs and thinking of Ethan.

It had been a failsafe. A final act of control that ensured, no matter where life took Jace, he would always belong to Ethan in some way.

Ethan had thrived since high school. College had been a playground for him—his intelligence, his experiments, and his confidence had expanded. In just a few months of college, the hottest jocks also displayed a triangle mark on their necks. Ethan had built an empire of control. A harem of jock drones, each under his influence in one way or another, devoted to him in mind and body. Ethan was living his fantasy.

And then, one afternoon at the beach, he saw him.

Jace was out in the ocean, carving through the waves on a surfboard with practiced ease. He had become a surfing instructor, and the years had only made him more impressive—He wore a tight surfing fit: a tight-sleeved compression shirt unzipped just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of his pecs and compression pants that clung to every sculpted muscle, outlining the power he carried between his legs. Ethan smirked. Jace was still as hot as he was in High School.

Ethan watched from the shore as Jace finished his lesson and walked up the beach, shaking out his wet hair. When their eyes met, recognition dawned in Jace’s face, followed by a wide, genuine grin.

“Ethan! Damn, it’s been forever, man!”

Jace’s voice was warm and genuine. He gave Ethan a tight hug, burying his face between his pecs... whether intentional or not, Ethan wasn't complaining.

If Ethan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the years had erased the past. But he knew. He knew because Jace’s eyes lingered on him just a second too long, because the way Jace's pecs flexed with his face buried between them, told Ethan that deep down, the nanorobots were still just as strong in his brain as seven years go.

“Jace,” Ethan greeted, pulling his face away from Jace's pecs, pretending at camaraderie. “You look good.”

Jace laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. “Thanks. You too, though. You look... different.”

Ethan smirked. “Yeah, life’s been good to me.”

They caught up for a bit. Jace seemed completely normal. He had a job now, a life, a routine. In High School, Ethan always thought Jace would end up in a gang or having a shitty life, but thanks to the work the nanorobots did to his brain, Jace had a second chance in life... even if he was a mindless drone now.

But Ethan knew better, as normal Jace looked now, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting for the right command. And then, casually, as if he were simply making an observation, Ethan said.

“Activate Standby Mode.”

Jace stopped mid-sentence and the mark on his neck glowed. His muscles stiffened, and then—nothing. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his chest rising and falling in slow breaths. His face, once animated with conversation, went blank. Emotionless. His eyes stared ahead, unfocused, waiting.

Ethan took a step forward, tilting his head as he observed his former bully, now reduced to a mere puppet again, after seven years. He ran a finger along Jace’s chest, watching for any sign of resistance. There was none.

He reached for Jace's bulge and gave it a slight squeeze. “I missed playing with you, Jace,” Ethan murmured. Jace remained still, completely at his mercy. Ethan’s smirk widened. After all these years, Jace was still his. "You see Jace... I turned into a drone almost every hot jock at my school, yet, none of them had such perfect pecs like you."

And now, it was time to remind him of that fact. "Follow me."

Ethan led Jace away from the beach, guiding him toward the rocky outcrop where Ethan would have the privacy he needed. Jace followed obediently, moving without hesitation, his gaze vacant. He was still deep in standby mode, awaiting only Ethan’s next command.

When they reached the secluded area behind some rocks, Ethan pushed Jace down against the stone, positioning him just as he wanted. Ethan unzipped the tight, long-sleeved compression shirt, peeling it open to fully reveal Jace’s sculpted pecs that he missed so much, then he pulled down Jace's compression pants, revealing his tight black speedos.

The sight made Ethan hard—Jace’s blank face, his perfect, meaty chest and the massive bulge in his speedos... Suddenly, all the memories of the fun he had with Jace in high school started to flood back.

Ethan climbed onto Jace’s lap, his legs straddling the thick thighs beneath him. He gently pressed his palms against Jace’s pecs, kneading the firm flesh before lowering his mouth to one of the stiff nipples. He licked at it first, tasting the salt on Jace’s skin before closing his lips around the nub, sucking hungrily.

Jace remained motionless, his breath deep and steady. Ethan soon felt the twitch beneath him, the involuntary jerk of Jace’s cock pressing harder against his ass through the tight speedos. Smirking, Ethan bit down on Jace’s nipple, twisting the other between his fingers as he felt the cock beneath him throb in response.

“I see my command is still holding strong,” Ethan murmured against Jace’s chest before moving to the other nipple, sucking, biting, and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. Each movement sent an electric pulse down to Jace’s cock, making it strain harder against its confines.

Ethan reached down, tugging down the waistband of Jace’s speedos. His thick, heavy cock sprang free, standing rigid and leaking.

Jace was too big—9 Inches hard. Ethan would need lube to take him fully. That's when Ethan remembered about a special command he would often use during High School. Would that still work? He asked himself. There was only one way to find out.

"Activate lube production mode," Ethan said. He waited a few seconds, a wicked grin formed on his face when he started to see a transparent sticky liquid oozing out of Jace's nipples.

During High School, Ethan would often pull Jace to a secluded room and fuck himself on Jace's big cock. To make it easier, Ethan gave the nanorobots a trigger word to produce a cum-enhanced lube that would be produced by Jace's pecs.

Ethan had completely forgotten about this trick until now, and he began to wonder what else he might be forgetting...

Ethan gave Jace's pecs a squeeze, making the transparent slippery liquid ooze faster. He then put some on his hand and coated Jace's dick with the natural lube.

Ethan’s own arousal was unbearable now, his own cock aching as he positioned his ass over Jace’s slippery shaft. With one slow movement, he sank down onto it, letting Jace's cock stretch him open.

A moan tore from Ethan’s lips as he adjusted, his hands bracing against Jace’s chest. The thick cock inside him pulsed, but Jace’s face remained blank, obediently waiting for direction. That only made Ethan hotter. He rocked his hips, setting a slow, deep rhythm, his fingers never leaving Jace’s pecs, smearing the slippery lube all over his chest making it glisten. Each time Ethan twisted or pinched a nipple, the cock inside him throbbed, reacting as if the sensations were directly wired together... Ethan knew they were.

Ethan rode him harder, his moans turning into gasps. He ground his hips, his fingers working Jace’s pecs mercilessly, alternating between soft caresses and sharp twists that made Jace’s cock throb uncontrollably inside him.

Ethan was close. His own cock twitched between them, untouched but fully ready to explode. He bit down on Jace’s left nipple and moaned as his orgasm hit him like a shockwave. His cum spilled in thick ropes over Jace’s chest, painting those perfect pecs in his release.

As his orgasm ceased, he grinned wickedly as Jace’s body jerked beneath him, his cock throbbing before spilling deep inside Ethan, his load pumping out in response to Ethan's command written into his very being.

Ethan sat there for a moment, still impaled on Jace’s cock, watching the way the cum dripped down his pecs and mindless face. He dragged his fingers through it and inserted one finger inside Jace's mouth with satisfaction.

“I'm never letting you go again,” Ethan whispered, pressing a final kiss to Jace’s agape mouth.

______________________

Ethan made his way to his personal gym, a massive space inside his mansion filled with state-of-the-art equipment and his favorite drone.

The moment he stepped inside, his eyes fell on Jace, standing frozen with his eyes open in the middle of the gym. Every night, before heading to bed, Ethan would shut down the nanorobots inside Jace, leaving him stuck like statue all night.

Ethan approached with a smirk, trailing his fingers along Jace’s broad back before stepping in front of him and gripping the bottom of his tight gym shirt and lifting it, revealing Jace's thick, heavy slabs of muscle that Ethan had grown obsessed with. His pecs, round and full, just waiting for inspection.

“Good morning, Jace,” Ethan said. His hands roamed over the meaty curves, squeezing them, testing their softness. The warmth of Jace’s body and the scent of sweat were pure addiction to Ethan. He leaned in, tracing his tongue around the stiff nub of Jace’s nipple before pulling it into his mouth, sucking greedily. Jace remained in sleep mode, his face blank, his body completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath.

Ethan gave the soft flesh a few gentle bites, just enough to leave teeth marks for a few days. He then flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud, his fingers teasing and twisting the other, eliciting a soft, involuntary grunt from Jace. The connection was undeniable—every pinch, every squeeze sent a pulse straight to Jace’s cock, hardening him instantly. Ethan smirked against his pec—Jace's body still responded to the command even when his brain was turned off.

“They're getting bigger, you're doing a good job at working out your pecs,” he praised, dragging his teeth lightly against Jace’s nipples before switching to the other side, giving it equal worship. Jace’s body responded even without conscious thought, his muscles twitching under Ethan’s control. This was his pec drone now—his to touch, to taste, to use. And Ethan had no intention of ever letting him go again.

"Turn off sleeping mode. Activate loving boyfriend mode."

The triangle mark on Jace's neck started glowing.

[hypnodumpster]

Submit To Satan's Power!

Photo Composite By MuscleSavage with altered freeze frame from video posted on superbtrashcycle.com.

[hypnodumpster]

FML: Zonked

You hardly registered as your roommate came back from his run and wandered into your room, “Hey bro, I was supposed to get a package today, you didn’t happen to… you stupid son of a bitch.”

But you had heard the apartment doorbell ring a few hours ago, and you went out to grab a package. Zonks it read in bright neon colors. It looked like your roommate bought a few new snacks. He wouldn’t mind if you tried them, surely? The box revealed a few small packets of bright yellow balls. They smelled citrusy as you popped one in your mouth. The taste was more subtle than you expected, lemon with a faint vanilla aftertaste, but the fizzing and sour powder inside punched well above its weight, sending shocks through your sinuses. You meant to only eat one or two, but they were just so easy to pop in your mouth. As each ball dissolved you hardly noticed as your limbs felt heavier and your breathing became thin until your head felt lighter than air. Still you continued to robotically shoved each ball into your gaping mouth until the packet was empty. You were beyond help as your brain fizzled out in your head, not that you could manage to care. As you laid back in your seat, your mouth dropped open, tongue rolled out as your eyes went cross in your empty skull. You couldn’t look more stupid if you tried.

That’s where your roommate found you hours later, unmoving, unthinking, zonked out of your mind. He grabbed the empty packet from beside you and checked the warning you had been too careless to read,

Warning: Each packet contains 12 servings of Zonks. One serving of Zonks may lead to loss of motor functions, limited cognitive functions, and enhanced behavioral compliance. Concentrated dosages may lead to permanent damage. Please enjoy responsibility!

“Fuck bro, this shit’s expensive! I can’t believe you downed the whole pack. You better at least say you’re sorry.”

A wave of recognition passed over your face, “You’re… thowy…” you mumbled out.

He turned looking more pissed off, “Bro, not ‘you’re sorry,’ say, ‘I’m sorry.’ And stick that stupid tongue back in your mouth.”

Your tongue snapped back, “I’m sorry,”you mumbled back.

Your roommate glanced back at the packet in his hand, then walked over to you with curiosity, “Hey, raise your right hand for me?”

Instantly, you could feel your right hand again, and brought it into the air.

“Bro, are you playing with me? Stand up.”

You silently watched your body step out of bed. It gave your body a strange… rush to be ordered around. It felt like he was completing a puzzle in yourself that you couldn’t anymore.

“Shit, what’s your name, bro?”

You couldn’t remember anymore, “I… I’m Bro,” you respond. That must be it. It’s what he calls you. But he was laughing as you said it.

“No, no, your name’s not bro. You’re so fucking stupid. For real, what’s your name?”

“Uhhh… I’m… I’m So Fucking Stupid,” you grinned at figuring it out.

“Damn, these things really did a number on you,” a mischievous expression passed over his face, as he spoke with more authority, “Well, maybe I can still have some fun with those Zonks even if you ate them. Your name is Bitch. Always has been. What’s your name?”

“My name is Bitch,” it felt right on your tongue. Glad that was settled.

“You want to listen only to me now Bitch. I’m not your roommate. I’m your Boss. Let me know you understand.”

“Yes, Boss. I understand,” there was no room to question the man in charge after all.

“Huhuhu, bro this is freaky. Okay Bitch, get on your knees and say, ‘I’m sorry I ate your Zonks,’ and I want you to mean it. You feel so sorry you ate my snacks.”

Tears sprung forth from your eyes as a deep sense of loss rolled over you. Falling at his feet you repeat “I’m sorry I ate your Zonks.” How could you disappoint your Boss like this?

He chuckled, “Kiss your Boss’s feet. Say it again and mean it.”

No smell could keep your lips from worshiping your Boss’s feet. Crying, you wailed “I’m so sorry I ate your Zonks!”

He leaned over and gently petted your head, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.” It felt nice that he was so understanding with you. “But, you are going to have to pay me back, Bitch.” He unbuckled his belt and worked his damp shorts down, letting his sweaty cock hit you in the face. “I haven’t had a load off in weeks. You like eating my food? Might as well swallow this cock too. Open wide Bitch, you are going to work off your debt to me. You are now nothing but a passionate cock sucking machine. Your only purpose in life is to make me cum. And you’re going to love it.”

Your mouth rolled open just how it was when your Boss walked into the room. You felt a surge of passion within you. You were designed to fit your Boss’s dick in your mouth. To pleasure this man you owed so much to. To be his perfect Bitch, a cock sucking machine. You felt hungry as his tip passed through your lips and the flavor of his girthy shaft filled your senses. And as he rammed his dick deep inside you and your face touched against his pelvis, penetrating your very being, you loved that you were so useful to your Boss.

[hypnodumpster]

“Be a good player and FLEX!”

Logan and Jake raised their arms in unison and started to flex. In fact, they had no choice but to obey. The helmets they were currently wearing were designed to keep its wearer in a trance state where they would obey every command given to them.

[hypnodumpster]

A Lustful Twist of Fate

“You just couldn’t let me go could you.”

No matter how sneaky Vance always thought he was, Kyle had been one step ahead.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t anticipated his former Best Friend to follow him after he left the city. After all, Vance Dane had always seemed to do everything in his power to undermine and take the things he loved. He didn’t understand why.

Kyle Marks had befriended him when he was all alone in High School and they never left each others side since then. He shared his hopes and dreams with him, went to the same university to study Media with him. Even got a job at the same advertising agency together. He didnt realize it at first but he noticed that Vance would alienate him from others and started outperforming him when Kyle was starting to get distracted from the anxiety. Vance denied doing so and insisted he was his friend. And yet, the isolation continued.

It got so bad that he couldn’t take it anymore. Instead of picking a fight, he sent in his two weeks notice and moved to another state. He hated that his dream career had gone down the drain. But he had to take it in stride. Be the bigger man. Start over and try his luck with a new career path.

Even if Vance could do this to him, he couldn’t. He was his best friend. And the first man he ever had feelings for. But these days, knowing how far Vance would have gone to destroy him, those feelings had vanished, replaced with anxiety that he would come back.

So imagine his (not) surprise when he saw Vance sneaking into his data lab where he was conducting mind to data physical conversion research.

Vance was the strong one, but Kyle was always faster. A single syringe of tranquilizer to his neck was all Kyle needed.

Vance had slumped to the floor, barely awake from the effects of the drug.

Kyle kneeled down and faced his former friend, ruffling his hair.

“You’re always taking things from me. My dreams. My ambitions. Even the people around me. I let it go because you were my friend but still you persist. I dont know what kind of sick game you’re playing but I’ve had enough.”

Vance grunted as Kyle dragged him by the hair to one of the chairs in the lab. He all but slammed the near unconscious man down and slowly stripped him down to his underwear.

“I’ve taken the high road long enough. I moved away and started over and everything.”

The anger pulsated into Kyles limbs as he attached nodes to Vance’s temples and chest, its wires connecting to a nearby computer.

“All I ever wanted was for you to like me but you still insist on taking from me.”

He felt a tear drop from his eye as he started typing away the commands to start his program. The button on the remote on the table lit up, ready for use.

Kyle stripped to his underwear and grabbed the remote. He approached Vance, who was now fully unconscious.

“Maybe I should take something from you instead.”

Kyle walked over to the chair opposite of Vance and plugged nodes to his own temples and chest.

He stared for a moment, suddenly aware that he’s about to perform a human trial on untested experiment. He was normally rational enough to not let himself perform what could possibly be a crime against humanity. Or worse, death.

But his emotions were getting the better of him.

He deserves it. I’ll make him pay.

Even if it kills me.

And besides… Science requires risk.

There was no going back now.

He stared at his would be body soon. From a distance, Vance looked like he was smiling. Perhaps a reflex of the muscle. No more doubting. This was going to work.

With a heavy breath, Kyle pushed the button.

He felt his body convulse, like electricty was pumping into his heart. His body was sweating and his brain felt like it was getting sucked by a straw. Across, Vance’s body had started convulsing as well, his body arching slightly upward in shock.

For a moment, Kyle felt like this was the end. Maybe he shouldn’t have let his anger win.

And suddenly it went black.

Kyle woke with a start. A ragged breath escaping his mouth. He felt extra groggy.

“Wha-“ he covered his mouth, his voice deeper than usual. He looked down and saw hands that were familiar but not his. And he looked across to find… his body slumped over.

“It worked… It actually worked!” The anger all but disappeared. He had finally succeded.

“I wasn’t hoping to do human trials until later, but this proves it. The mind can be turned into data and moved.”

He ripped the nodes from his new body and walked over to his unconscious old body.

“Maybe now… I can go back to my old life. Maybe it wont be a pipe dream anymore without him getting in the way.” He caressed his old face and slowly lifted his head up by the chin. “Everyone will just think he’s crazy if he starts saying he swapped bodies with me.”

Kyle walked off to grab a towel and look at a mirror. This was a face he was so used to seeing but being inside was a whole new level of ecstacy he was never used to.

“It’s so weird… being in this body. But its…” he wiped his face with the towel and took a sniff.

“…so emasculating. Fuck… Vance is really hot.”

Kyle looked down, his new member straining hard against his shorts. An image he had wanted to see his whole life. And pulling it out confirmed what he had only ever imagined.

“Shit. Mine isn’t bad but this is a whole new level of huge.”

He grabbed hold of his new shaft, the sensitivty eliciting a moan from his mouth. He didnt even process any thought and just started pumping.

“Fuck… FUCK!”

It was like a geyser of white just erupting out of him. The intensity was way beyond anything he’s ever experienced.

He scooped up some from the mirror and gave it a taste.

“Salty…”

He heard his old body stir from behind and he felt an evil grin creep up his face. He walked over as he watched his old body wake up.

“Hey. How’s it feel, Kyle. To have all of this ripped away from you.”

Kyle flexed, feeling the mighty hard muscles from his stolen body. And it felt good.

Vance, in Kyle’s body blinked a couple of times before sitting up. His face remained blank, as if he was still processing.

“Too stunned to speak? Missing all of this? Have a taste of the old you.”

He swiped his cum stained hand over to his old body’s mouth.

“And nice package by the way. Thanks for that. Mine aint bad but sheesh. You sure won the genetic lottery.”

He wanted to be satisfied, but the lack of a violent reaction was souring his victory.

“Well, say something.” Kyle finally said.

Vance stood up and walked over to the mirror. Quiet at first, as if to take in what he now had. Kyle expected trembling, shouting, begging. Anything!

But the words that came out of Vance completely shattered him.

“This was everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Vance raised his new arms, taking in Kyle’s body as if it were a prize.

“W-What…?”

The smile on Vance’s face was anything but the anguish Kyle wanted to see.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this… To be in your flesh.”

Kyle’s breathing intensified, everything clearly not going as planned.

“What are you saying? What the fuck is going on?! This is supposed to be my revenge!”

Vance turned around, walking towards him in such a sultry way that seemed ultra foreign from Kyle’s body.

“Revenge? Why would I want revenge? I’ve never hated you nor have I ever wanted to destroy you. Quite the opposite actually.”

Vance hugged himself, feeling his body from every inch of what he could touch.

“Vance..!” It was Kyle’s turn to be speechless.

“You said all you’ve ever wanted was for me to like you. Kyle, liking you was never a problem.”

He licked his cum stained lip as he began exploring his new cock. A foreign feeling from what he was used to but a dream made reality completely ramped up the sensitivity Kyle’s body normally had. But unlike Kyle, Vance was slow, delibirate. Edging himself as he pumped his new cock in front of Kyle.

Kyle felt like he was being manhandled but he couldn’t stop watching. His own new cock springing back up in arousal.

“I’ve wanted you for as looooong as I could remember. Since that day you saved me from my loneliness. I needed you to be mine. And mine alone.”

Kyle’s breath hitched, backing away as Vance approached him.

“I did everything to be at your side. I’ve followed you to your career path. I got rid of anyone that would stand between us. Because all you need is me. No one can have you”

Kyle tripped down to the chair behind him. This time, Vance caressed his trembling face. It terrified Kyle to watch his own face contort into this kind of… lust… that he would never normally have.

Vance planted his lips into his body’s mouth, forcing his new tongue to dance with his old one. He pulled back, letting their saliva bridge and trail down.

Kyle was panting, overstimulated from the revelation and sexual intensity.

Vance purred, enjoying his slightly higher voice.

“It killed me to see you leave. I never realized that the success I was bringing for us hurt you. But its over now.”

He pumped faster now, their dicks and their sweaty bodies colliding.

“I will follow you to the ends of the earth. I wont let anything stand in my way. I trained my body to protect you.”

With his free hand, Vance twisted his old body’s nipple and he ravaged Kyle’s neck with a long, sensual kiss.

“And now… I can. Forever.” He let out a long gutteral cry completely foreign from Kyle’s usual demeanor. A stream of white cum showered Vance’s old body.

He panted, smiling from an orgasm he never felt before. He scooped up some cum and gave it a taste. “From within, I will always have this… delicious body. And no one who ever wants to hurt you will know it was never you in the first place.”

He licked the rest of the cum up and kissed Kyle. Letting Kyle’s former sweet tasting cum swirl within both their mouths.

“Come here. I will show you the depths of my love.”

It wasnt love. It was obsession.

“Vance… Vance, no. Vance-“

Vance covered his mouth.

“Shh… it’s Kyle.”

The new Kyle smiled before planting his new mouth into the new Vance’s dick.

“OH GOD!” Kyle- no, Vance held onto Kyle’s bobbing head as he received the best head he’s ever had in years.

“Kyle… KYLE!”

His new cock warmed up, another round of cum finally erupting. And Kyle swallowed it all.

~

It had been three months since the body swap.

Vance had moved into Kyle’s home and restarted his career in a new advertising agency. Kyle would soon join him, a return to a life he had supposedly “abandoned” and quietly supported him. The experimental research for Kyle’s mind to data project was shelved and hidden away.

While Vance went on to enjoy a life of success, Kyle would enjoy the body of his one true lust love.

“Rest easy baby. I wont let anything or anyone hurt you…”

-

Hey! Etoile Cyber here. I’ve been a long time reader of body swap stories and thought I’d try my hand at wrting one for once!

I Hope you guys liked it!