jockgaytf

[jockgaytf]

Hungry lungs. This guy gets it

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

Superboy is tired from saving the world multiple times.

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

[jockgaytf]

"You're finally starting to get it, aren't you? When you joined the team, you just thought it was a sponsor. But wearing the team shirt and seeing us all smoke, it awakened a desire in you. A desire to smoke, to fit in, to become one of us. And look at you know, puffing away. Trying to fulfill that desire...

Let me tell you, what will happen next. That desire will only get stronger and stronger and you will keep feeding it, until it is no longer a desire, but a need. Eventually, need will turn into craving and you will notice that you have submitted to Marlboro completely.

Then you will be truly part of the team.

[jockgaytf]

THE BURGLAR

Every time Jake needed money for his beer and ciggies it was always so easy to break into a house and steal a few things that he could pass on to a fence. He knew each time the articles were probably worth a lot more than the fence claimed but it gave him a decent amount of money and stopped him having to do any work. He would always case an area and find out the houses where the occupants were out at work and so no chance of being caught out. He was good at his job. No point of doing anywhere that had housewives and kids around as you never knew when they might be back.

He had moved on to a new area of smart houses and was quick to find out the homes that were empty during the day. He also knew which ones had cameras as so many nowadays had something at their front door.

It was time to get into a place as his beer and ciggie money had run out. He had chosen the house. Medium size with a nice new car in the drive. As regular as clockwork the owner came out at 8.30 and went off to work. He was a tall muscular guy with a shaved head, not bad looking, and always in smart suits. There never seemed to be anyone else. Jake kept out the way and waited an hour until the owner had left and seeing no one else around slipped down the side of the drive and smirked as he could see an open window in the side of the house.

‘What a bloody fool that guy is, Makes my job so fucking easy!’

It took a minute before Jake was able to climb through the window as he preferred to take something he could put into his jeans. A quick survey round told him what an immaculate place he was in. Everything was washed up and everything in the right place. It all looked so new and perfect which meant there had to be a few things he could take with him. He put on his black latex gloves to make sure there were no possible fingerprints should he get the police in. Anyway nowadays the police were not bothered with break ins. They had other bigger issues to deal with and most of the time the police just said ‘Sorry we can’t help’. Still better not to have any fingerprints should some police dick think of being helpful.

There was nothing of particular interest in the downstairs part of the house. No silver just a few well chosen pieces which Jake had no idea of the worth and best to to leave as he preferred taking something that would fit into his jeans.

He moved quickly upstairs into what looked like the main bedroom. Again everything was in order and the bed perfectly made up. Nothing out of place.

Jake thought that there is always something next to be bed and he opened one of the drawers and immediately saw a very nice gold watch. Yes it was the real thing. That would be worth a few bob and a fence would give him good money for that. He popped it into his jeans. Lying on the dressing table was a bowl of money and not just coins. 

Christ there must be a £100 there. What an idiot leaving that lying around. Again Jake stuffed it into his pocket

‘Might as well check the wardrobe whilst I am here. Judging by that suit of his there might be some good gear and  I can get some money for.’

He opened up the first wardrobe and hanging there were suits and jackets and shirts all colour coordinated and all expensive materials.

Not Jake’s size but he grabbed a couple of jackets and thought he would at least get something for them.

He then opened the next wardrobe.

‘Fucking Hell ‘he exclaimed at what he saw. He then blacked out.

Jake’s eyes suddenly opened with a heavy smack across his face. Christ it hurt. Not knowing what was going on he blinked in the sunlight as he tried to open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was he was hardly able to breathe. Wedged inside his mouth was a leather ball on a strap making it impossible to speak or react. Secondly his hands we=re tied behind his back and his legs tied together. He was completely wedged into a chair. The pain in his head seared through his body. All he could do was meekly shake his head in the hope of easing the pain. As he began to focus he was aware of the owner of the house looming over him.

He stood with his legs apart and arms folded, in his smart suit and tie glaring down at Jake.

‘So you little runt, you thought you could easily break in and get away with some valuables. A right idiot you are. Wondered why you got in so easily? I saw you casing the house and knew exactly what you were up to. Not exactly subtle are you. So I left the side window open to help you out. Like a bee to a honeypot.

I just stopped the car down the road and walked back to give you a nice surprise and looks like I succeeded. Been having a good peep into my wardrobe? Not a good idea mate at least not for you. I can either call the police or you and I sort something out. As you can’t respond with that leather ball in your mouth I will make the decision for you.

You can sit tight and wait for what is about to happen to you. I will be back in a few minutes. Get your mind ready.’

Jake was now terrified. He had stumbled into a lion’s den. How fucking stupid was he not to think the open window seemed wrong. He was greedy for his money. He had no idea what the owner was going to do but it sounded as if some suffering was going to happen,

The door opened and the guy walked in. At first Jake thought it was someone else, the contrast was mind blowing

The guy now standing in front of him was in full skinhead gear. His shiny high Ranger boots with yellow laces, his bleachers which looked as if he had been poured into them with what looked like a third leg stretching down inside his groin. A huge thick cock forming a large bulge so much so that Jake could see the outline of his balls as well. A tight white T shirt under a green bomber jacket that fitted snugly to his massive frame. Gone was the suited businessman, now  a fierce some skin stood in front of him.

‘So you looked into my special wardrobe did you?.

Jake nodded.

‘I heard you shout Fucking hell before I thumped you. No one looks into that wardrobe of mine and if they do then they have to take the punishment. So you had better man up and take what’s coming to you. First of all while you are still gagged I am taking that head of hair away from you.’

The Skin took out the razor and as Jake tried to squirm The Skin slapped him hard across the face

‘You will fucking well do what I want and no shit, got that.’

Feeling the stinging pain across his face Jake could only sit and grunt through the gag as the razor ripped over his head the dark hair falling in bunches onto the floor. He could see the Skin not just smirking but he was certain the guys cock was starting to twitch down his leg.

‘Now a fine razor to take away all those spiky parts. Some shaving cream will help’ he said smearing the cream over the top. He then took a towel and wiped the scalp clean standing back to look at his work.

‘Not bad. This is just the beginning of your punishment mate. As The Skin said this he gave his crotch a good rub and Jake could see the bulge size getting bigger as it inched it way down the bleacher leg.

‘Now I am going to take off those ropes from your wrists and legs but don’t for one minute think of escaping or I will thump you so hard you will regret it for a long time to come. Anyway I have locked the door. Once I take these off stand up and take your clothes off all of them and hand them to me.’

 Jake still havdthe ball gag on and could say nothing but his facial expressions showed his pure anger.

As Jake stood up so he tried to move but got struck back with a punch in the face.

‘Another little move like that without my say so and you will have a broken nose. Perhaps not too bad though with the shaved head, eh? Now get your fucking clothes off.’

Jake meekly toom off his shiny chav trackie outfit and handed it over still standing in his white socks and underwear.

‘I said the whole lot.’

Jake did as he was told and handed them over standing stark naked in front of The Skin who then put his hands in the trackie pockets and pulled out the money and watch.

‘So this was all you managed to take and being as dumb as you are you probably thought you were taking away a high end watch. Sorry mate it’s a cheap replica which I set up for you. All a bit of waste for you.’

Then taking a pair of scissors The Skin started to cut up the trackie suit into pieces.

Jake went to attack the Skin but when the Skin too the scissors and aimed them at him he knew he could well get stabbed such was the authority of his prison officer.

‘You want be needing these again. Anyway it’s all part of your punishment you little runt. Not a bad cock you have there and a great pair of balls. Looks as if your tits may need improving but for now I always keep some different sizes of clothes for guests even if you are an unwanted one so put these on and then let’s have another look at you.

The Skin threw across some clothes to Jake who bent down to start putting on as quick as possible feeling too exposed standing there under scrutiny.

First on were a pair of faded bleachers. As he pulled them on he could feel the denim tight against his legs as they were almost made to the shape of his legs. He pulled them up as much as he could and the sensation of the denim as it started to cover his groin and cock suddenly started to make him feel horny and he had to push his cock down into one leg and watch the bulge grow as he did up the zip.

‘Looks mate as if you are quite happy with the new gear.’

He then pulled on the long pair of white socks up to his knees so he could then put on the well used pair of Ranger boots with white laces. He had seen guys do them before so knew how to lace tightly and tied at the top so there was no lace hanging down. He folded the top of the socks over. All that was left was the green bomber jacket. No T shirt was offered.

‘That’s better. Gone is that stupid Chav and now you look semi decent as a skinhead. ‘Fucking awful face though,’ The Skin smirked. ‘Take that and put it on.’

The Skin threw Jake a piece of rubber latex and he realised it was a full rubber hood with eye holes and slit for the mouth.

‘Pull that tight over your head it will be good fit now all that hair of yours has gone. Pull it right down to your neck.’

Jake felt the rubber hood mould to his head as he pulled it down over his eyes and could see The Skin staring at him and then down over his mouth so his lips were slightly sticking out. He took in the pungent smell of rubber and felt the odour move down into his throat. It was potent and it was arousing him which was the last thing he wanted in front of this Skin.

‘Time to take off that gag of mine.’

The Skin ripped it off and as he did he leant his face right into until it touched Jake. ‘You say anything other than I want you to say and the gag goes back on, Understand..’

Jakes simply nodded.

‘That cock of yours is starting to make a nice little packet even if you are being punished. Sometimes the sheer thrill of punishment is enough to make a guy feel horny. The hood really suits you. Now get down on your fucking knees in front of me.’

Saying this the Skin grabbed Jake by the shoulders and pushed him down sharply on his knees. Kneel you fucking piece of shit. You do exactly as I say and from now on you call me Sir. Got that?.

‘Yes,’

‘Yes fucking what?’

‘Yes Sir’

‘Make a mistake like that again and my boot will be in your face.. Remember what you are a shitty little burglar. Now get right down and use that spit of yours through the rubber hood to lick my boots. Right one first. Head right down.’

And with that Sir forced his ribbed boot down on Jake’s rubber covered head until his lips were pr4ssed against the toe cap. He knew he had to do the job well otherwise punishment would be worse. He hoped after this he would be chucked out onto the street and be able to slink home with no one to see him

Jake licked the hard covered the toe cap with as much spit as he could muster letting large globs onto the boot and then spreading it over the shiny leather surface until he could make it gleam with his spit.

Sir pushed him aside to check progress and the yanked his head over to the other boot.

‘Looks like you have done this before.’

Again Jake went through the same procedure feeling the weight of not just the Ranger boot but Sirs entire body firmly pushing him down hard until at one point he thought his lips would be bruised by the force. He could feel his spit spreading out over the rubber hood and as he licked he made a point of smelling the rubber the smell almost like sniffing poppers. At one point he felt the punishment was as much having to keep his boner in the bleachers. He was being so aroused by his master’s force and punishment.

Sir barked ‘Now stay on your knees and sit up straight. I have a little present for you seeing you are doing so well. Open up your jacket.’

Jake pulled the jacket open so his bare chest was exposed. He was afraid the guy was going to punch him. Instead out of his jacket the Skin brought out a pair of Tit clamps

‘Ever tried these before?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Good there ‘s a first time for everything and this is it. Bending down with the chain he attached the first clamp to Jake’s left tit and as he did Jake let out a scream of pain.

‘Do you want the leather ball gag again.’

‘No Sir but its sore, fucking sore’

‘Of course it fucking is. Remember you are being punished. Be a fucking man. You are in skin gear and skins don’t complain. Most of my guests love it.’

As he said this he fixed the second clamp and let the chain fall between

Again Jake winced with the pain and yet somehow the searing heat of the pain in his nipples spread through his body down to his groin where it showed itself in further arousal of his cock. It wall all pain yet pleasure.

The Skin opened his bomber jacket so Jake could see his chest with the bright white T shirt, Sticking out a good inch were the biggest pair of nipples Jake had ever seen.

‘Now there’s a pair of nipps for you . It taken a lot of tit clamps and especially nipple pumps to get them this size. Big ain’t they.’

Jake looked in amazement and nodded. ‘Tell you what when I take my jacket of in the office everyone stares at the size of my nipples through the shirt. I know some guys who have started and had to supposedly go for a piss when I know they are off to wank themselves stupid. I love these tits. ‘

Jake wanted to reach up and squeeze these tits but he felt like the office guys and just wanted to wank staring at them.

Jake let his eyes from within the hood travel down to see Sir in his bleachers and the bulge had grown even more allowing Sir to take his hand and try to ease the pressure that had built up inside the bleachers

‘Got a good view there have you. That cock of mine is needing some attention after watching you and it’s time that mouth of yours took the full length of my thick shaft. I am going to take hold of that tit clamp and any time I feel you are not sucking well I will give it a yank. The pain will be enough for you to suck better. Got it?’

‘Yes Sir’

With Jake staring at the crotch The Skin unzipped and forced his hand all the way down one leg struggling to pull out his massive tool. As he brought out his cock he let go and Jake saw it bounce upwards until it was almost vertical and Jake could see the large vein stretching down the back of the prick. The big pink head was gleaming with what looked like precum.

It was an amazing cock but Jake wondered how he would not choke to death taking that into his mouth.

‘I want to see my cock disappearing into that hood of yours and then feel the rubber against my pubes. Now get on with it.’

Jake opened his mouth and let his spit drop on to the head so it would be easier to lick and start to take further into his throat. As the head hit the back of his throat he suddenly gagged and as he did Sir pulled on the chain causing Jake to howl with agony as he felt his tits feeling as though they were being pulled off.

‘I told you, scum. Breathe properly and trust me it will slip down.’

Panicked by the searing pain he started again and once more he gagged .

Again a sharp pull on the chain and Jake could feel the tears in his eyes from the pain, his tits feeling so raw.

‘Next time I will virtually rip your nipps off so you had better make it third time lucky.’

Jake was terrified of making another mistake, he could not suffer any more pain. Breathing carefully he let the head and top of the shaft into his mouth and little by little he was able to take the length further and further deeper and deeper into his throat. The cock seemed enormous but the fear made him do as he was told. Just as he was taking in most of the shaft Sir took his hands and placed then around Jake’s hood and pressed his head all the way in until he had Sirs full cock in his mouth.

‘There you are you can do it. Now start sucking.’

As Jake let all his spit smother the cock Sir starting moving his cock in and out bringing the head almost to the lips before setting the full length back in. As he did Sir put his fingers on his huge nips and started massaging them through the T shirt making them if possible even more erect. The more he face fucked Jake the more he worked on his nipples and the louder the groan..

Suddenly he pulled his cock fully out of Jakes mouth and let go of his nipps.

‘Still work to be done he said. Now get up’

Jake could feel the taste of precum in his throat as he obeyed. The rubber hood was starting to get very hot and tight on his head. He was almost feeling that his head might burst out of the hood

‘Sir, Can I take the rubber hood off?’

‘Soon but first let’s get you into position.’

Sir turned Jake around and bent him over a chest facing a large wall mirror.

‘Good now you can see yourself and me towering over you. Stay there a minute.’

Jake heard a drawer open and suddenly saw behind him Sir holing and large black rubber dildo.

‘What are you gong to do with that?’ Jake said

‘What do you fucking think and anyway it is not for you to ask. You only answer when I have a question for you, got it.’

Jake looking in the mirror saw Sir set several drops of KY onto the rubber shaft and then unaware until then , there was a zip down the rear of the bleachers and as it was pulled down he felt his arse being exposed. He did not know what to think or say as the hood was becoming increasingly hot tight and uncomfortable.

‘Let’s get started on your final punishment shall we.’

Jake felt his arse cheeks being pulled apart and the fingers of Sir exploring his hole. Suddenly he felt his hole being attacked by the dildo and forced open due to the KY.

‘Lucky for you I’m using the KY otherwise you would really waken up with this.’

However Jake let out a cry.

Please Sir don’t do this you have punished enough’

‘You made the mistake of entering my home so you take the punishment I give.’ 

Jake felt the black rubber dildo move deeper and deeper into his arse but what made him do it he didn’t know but he started to push his arse out to take the full length.

‘I don’t want you taking it all. I am just preparing you for my cock which is bigger than this dildo but the KY will let me slip it in nicely. Don’t worry you will feel it as my thick shaft goes the full way up.’

Sir slowly took out the dildo which Jake was now used to and felt his hole missing something large inside him when taken out and set aside.

‘Time to untie your hands as you can take off the hood yourself. Sounds as if it is ready.’

Sir undid the ties and pressed his erect cock against the rear of Jake’s bleachers.

‘Feels nice and hard doesn’t’ it. That arse of yours must be dying to feel it deep inside you. Now lets see you rip that rubber hood off. As you lift it up over your face keep looking in the mirror.’

Jake wondered what he was talking about and all he would see would be a very red face having had it on so long. It was not easy to remove as it felt literally stuck to his face.

As Jake pulled so he suddenly felt Sirs cock head slip into his already greased up arse. It was rock hard. The more Jake pulled at the hood the further in he felt the cock go. He winced as it was certainly bigger than the dildo just removed but he knew his arse was waiting to feel it up to the hilt.

Jake pulled the hood up to his chin , wrenching it to the point of almost ripping the rubber.

Grasping it firmly at his chin he sharply drew it up over his face and off his head, made slightly easier by the shaved head.

He gasped as he saw his head in the mirror reflection. Where was his fine featured long chav head. He now had almost a round football as a head. No wonder it was so tight. His eyebrows had gone and his whole face changed with its new pug nose and a deep scar down one of his cheeks. Down the side of his neck was a tattoo of a large swatzika . he was looking at someone else, the guy in the mirror was an agreesive looking skinhead. The clothes were the ones he had been instructed to wear and the body shape was his but he was looking at a full skin.

‘Like what you see?’

‘What the fuck have you done?’

‘I wouldn’t speak me to me like that you little skinhead with my cock deep inside you. No little runt of a chav breaks into my house and goes out the same way. I only fuck skins and if you are going to be a burglar then better a rough looking skin . No one will stop you, that is except me.’

Jake looked at the new him again and seeing this full skin made him feel horny as fuck. He looked the part with his full gear, the shaved head the scar and the tat. No fucking chav now he thought.

He was a skin with a skin’s big dick now making its way right up his arse. He needed to be fucked and only by a skin

‘That’s it you skinhead moron you want all my cum up that arse of yours.’

Jake went to pull down the zip of his bleachers as his cock was so hard he needed to get it out and wank while seeing himself in the mirror.

‘If you think of getting that prick of yours out forget it mate. Keep it down your leg pressed against your bleachers. Feel that skin denim rubbing up against your cock.

Saying all this to Jake made Sir even more keen top fuck and release all the spunk that had built up in his balls while punishing his burglar.

‘You fucking love looking like a skinhead now don’t you I can feel it the way that arse is thrusting back at my cock in the bleachers. None of my guests leave the way they came in unless they come as Skins. He knew Sir was ready to explode

‘That arse of yours was made for my big dick I can now feel it all the way up as my pubes are pressing against the rear zip of your bleachers.

‘Fuck me senseless Jake shouted. Make me feel a real skin being fucked by you.’

Seeing Jakes new look and hearing how aroused he had become made Sir even hornier than ever. With one arm around Jake’s front he put the other hand up to his aroused nipple sticking out more than ever in his T shirt.

His own cock was so hard it was hurting inside his bleachers and he knew that precum had started oozing out into the jeans. The more aroused Sir became the more aroused he was

‘Fucking you and having my nipple squeezed is the best.’ The more he worked his tit the more he thrust his cock in and out of Jakes arse. As he thrust faster and faster so `jhe could feel the cock inside throb more than ever and could feel the heavy balls . 

‘Keep looking at that tough skin face of yours.’ Sir shouted and get ready to rake all my spunk. He now put both arms around Jake so he could fuck all the harder, ramming more and more so that Jake felt every inch.

‘Take my spunk you dirty little skinhead burglar’ he shouted. And with that Sir released wave after wave which Jake could feel shooting up inside him, to the point he thought it would come out of his mouth. The sensation of so much spunk being injected into him was too much for Jake.

‘Fuck I’m gonna cum in my bleachers without even touching my cock.’

‘Then spunk away.’

And with a loud groan while admiring his new full skinhead look and still with Sirs cock up his arse, he shot his load into the demin and as he looked down he could see the white cream running down his leg forming a large stain as well as some oozing out to form big globs.

As Sir removed his cock and gave his prick a wipe he quickly zipped up the arse zip.

‘Now stand up boy ‘he barked.

As Jake stood up he could feel not just more cum dripping down inside his bleachers but all the excess of Sir’s spunk starting to ooze out through his hole and he could feel the wet patch spreading across his arse cheeks.

‘Fuck I’m all spunked back and front. I can’t leave like this.’

‘Oh yes you can. That’s the final punishment. Everyone can see what you have been up and they will either think you have been having sex or pissing and shitting yourself. Whatever, looking like that with your new Skin face no on is going to come anywhere near you. You are still a burglar so take the cheap watch and here’s the £100. You can either buy yourself another satin chav trackie suit or better get some great skin gear.

Jake looking at himself in the mirror with full skin and the running wet patch knew the answer.

‘Stuff the chav gear.’

‘I knew you would say that so now get the fuck out. You broke in by the window so you can leave that way. If you see the window open again, then try your luck. I have a nice rubber restraining suit that is just made for you so I can up the punishment.’

‘I’ll be back Sir’

‘I know and I will be waiting’

[jockgaytf]

Conscripted

What was supposed to be a moment of peace for Eli was shattered by Diego's loud and sudden entrance, aggressively demanding to speak with his ex-boyfriend. "What the fuck, Diego!?" Eli protested, irritated by his ex's unannounced and deeply unwanted presence. "You can't just-" Eli's irritation quickly turned to confusion, perturbed by Diego's drastically different appearance. "How the hell did you put on so much muscle!? And what's up with the army getup?"

"Why haven't you met with a recruiter yet, boy?" Diego coldly demanded, purposefully letting Eli's questions go through one ear and out the other.

"What are you talking about!?" Eli absently questioned, distracted by how Diego's voice sounded bizarrely deeper since they last spoke. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I guess I'll have to recruit you myself, boy." Diego wickedly smirked, his eyes glowing green.

"What the fuck!?" Eli recoiled in a horrifying mixture of confusion and fear. He wanted to escape, but it was too late. His eyes unfortunately met Diego's, and it was all over. He lost himself to Diego's hypnotic gaze, trying desperately to resist but failing hard in seconds. "What the fuuuuuuckkkk?"

"Do not resist." Diego chanted, his voice stiff like a robot. He removed his army cap, only for a replacement cap to magically appear on his head. He took his old cap and placed it on the now-frozen Eli. "You will be conscripted. The army must grow. Assimilate. Assimilate. Assimilate."

"Fuuuuckkkkkkkk!!!" Eli's eyes rolled back, his body shooting up straight as aboard. Diego's old cap morphed to fit Eli's head perfectly. Eli's mind was then assaulted by a deep and powerful voice, an aggressive drill sergeant.

"Now, listen up, maggot!" The drill sergeant in Eli's head loudly commanded. "The army must grow! All males will comply and be conscripted! You will comply! You will assimilate! Isn't that that right, maggot?"

"Sir, yes, Sir." Eli softly responded, his brain melting. He wants so hard to resist, but giving in feels intoxicatingly good.

"I can't hear you, maggot!" The drill sergeant loudly commanded.

"SIR, YES, SIR!!!" Eli loudly replied, saluting with great conviction. And just like that, his transformation began. His slim, twinky body instantly expanded and grew into a bulking mass of intense masculine muscle. His medium-length hair buzzed back to a short military cut. His pink shirt and grey sweats shifted to an army green shirt and camouflage pants, exactly like Diego's. A pair of perfectly polished army boots popped onto his newly expanded feet. Lastly, a manly band tattoo formed on his right bicep as his army tag materialized onto his newly thickened neck.

"Welcome to the army, boy." Diego smugged, proudly crossing his arms.

A few weeks have passed since Eli was conscripted, and much has changed. He was given a pair of mind-altering headphones that permanently eliminated everything the army didn't see fit, which was mainly his homosexuality. He's now as straight as a nail and has even bred a few sluts on campus, with much more impregnating to come. Eli and Diego have conscripted most of the males on campus. A few have gotten away, but they'll be found and conscripted. It's their destiny. After all, all males will comply and be conscripted. Do not resist. The army must grow. Assimilate. Assimilate. Assimilate.

[jockgaytf]

Diego’s Roommate

Cody struggled against the thick ropes binding his wrists to the back of the wooden chair, the coarse hemp cutting into his pale skin. His breathing was ragged, eyes wide and glassy with panic as he stared across the cramped, dim dorm room. The overhead light flickered intermittently, casting Cruz’s broad silhouette in twitching shadows across the walls. Cruz had always been a bit… off. Diego used to joke that his roommate was born in the wrong decade—that if it were up to him, every dorm would be one giant locker room. The guy stank like he bathed in his own sweat and wore it like cologne. Cody never liked him, but he never thought he’d end up like this: restrained and helpless, watching as his boyfriend was dragged toward something unthinkable.

“Let him go,” Cody spat, his voice cracking with desperation. “You don’t have to do this!”

Cruz didn’t even glance back. He stood in front of Diego, who was shirtless and breathing hard, his cheeks flushed with confusion and anger. Diego’s dark curls clung damp to his forehead, and his chest rose and fell like he’d just finished running. He looked scared, but not scared enough. Not yet.

“He’s still got that softness in him,” Cruz muttered, lifting one of his battered soccer cleats and pressing it to his own nose, inhaling deeply like it was the finest cigar. “But don’t worry. We’ll fix that.”

(Cruz)

“Diego, don’t breathe in. Don’t listen to him!” Cody shouted, writhing in his restraints. “You know who you are. You’re not—whatever he’s trying to make you.”

But Diego just stood there, staring at the shoe Cruz held out like it was… calling to him.

“It’s just sweat, man,” Diego mumbled, uncertain, but not pulling away. “It’s just a smell.”

“No,” Cruz grinned. “It’s the smell of manhood.”

He pressed the cleat to Diego’s face with a sudden, aggressive push, and Diego gagged—then coughed. Then inhaled. The change wasn’t immediate. It never was. That’s what made it worse. Cody could only watch, his stomach twisting in horror as Diego blinked slowly, nostrils flaring. His face contorted with disgust for a second—then something changed. His eyes unfocused, the pupils dilating just a bit too wide.

“Smells… strong,” Diego murmured. He tried to shake it off, but Cruz was ready. He pressed the cleat in harder, practically grinding the sole into Diego’s face.

“Breathe deep, bro. Let it in. Let it show you what you really are under all that fake polish. All that weak-ass love-boy crap.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Cody cried. “You’re not like that! You’re kind, you’re smart—”

But Diego had stopped listening. A low, shuddering breath rolled through his lungs, and his body trembled. He tried to pull away, but Cruz grabbed the back of his head and forced it back down into the cleat. The air was thick with the smell of dried sweat, mildew, and aged leather. Diego moaned—but it wasn’t just in discomfort. There was something else beneath it. Something closer to need.

Cruz leaned in, his voice practically a growl. “That’s it. Let that fog in. It’s already starting, isn’t it? The ache in your brain? The way things don’t matter like they used to? You think Cody matters? He’s just noise. What you need—what you are—is something better.”

Diego staggered back, gasping, but he didn’t fall. He stood there, wobbling slightly, eyes unfocused. One hand moved down to his waistband, shifting slightly as if—

No. No. Cody shook his head, tears in his eyes. “Diego, please. Look at me. You love me. Remember?”

For a moment, a flicker of something real sparked in Diego’s eyes. His mouth opened. “Cody… I…”

Then Cruz was there again, shirtless now, his glistening pit shoved right up to Diego’s nose.

“Round two,” he growled. “Go on. Breathe in deep. This is what being a real man smells like.”

Diego froze—then crumpled into it. Cody could only watch as Diego slumped against the wall, his chest heaving, lips parted as if struggling to suck in clean air. But Cruz was already there, one meaty arm curled around his shoulder like a vice, pinning him in place. The scent of his armpit lingered in the room like a thick haze—pungent, musky, and strangely sweet in its rot. Cody’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t just the smell—it was what it meant. That odor was doing something. Twisting Diego, seeping into him.

“You good, bro?” Cruz muttered into Diego’s ear, loud enough for Cody to hear. “Starting to feel it now? That burn in your lungs? That itch in your brain?”

Diego’s voice was hoarse. “It’s… I dunno. I feel hot. My head’s like… fuzzy.”

Cody leaned forward in his restraints, shaking his head. “That’s not you, baby. It’s not real! You’re just being drugged or—brainwashed or something, you have to fight it!”

But Diego didn’t look at him. He looked at Cruz.

“What’s happening to me?” Diego asked, voice trembling.

Cruz grinned, full teeth. “You’re just waking up, hermano. Shedding all that weak, soft crap. That boyfriend. That college-boy future. That tight little guilt you carry around.”

Diego flinched. But he didn’t pull away. Cruz leaned in again, letting a slow, wet drip of sweat slide from his pit down onto Diego’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna let it happen. You’re gonna let go. Bit by bit. You don’t need to think so hard anymore. Just feel.”

Diego’s body twitched. His back arched slightly, like he was stretching against invisible restraints. A sound escaped him—half grunt, half moan. He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose, sniffling. Still breathing it in. His abs flexed—not with effort, but with growth. Cody’s eyes widened. Diego had always been fit, sure—swam in high school, hit the gym casually—but this was different. His stomach twitched again, muscle thickening in slow pulses, veins rising under the skin like roots crawling from under the surface. His lats widened slightly, pushing his arms out just a bit further from his sides.

He stared down at his own torso, eyes wide. “What the hell…?”

“It’s the man-fog, bro,” Cruz murmured, voice like a prayer. “Ain’t just a smell. It’s change. It’s what you were meant to be.”

Cody screamed, voice cracking. “Diego, don’t let it win! That’s not you! You’re smart, you’re kind, you’re not—this!”

Diego flinched again—but he still didn’t look at Cody. His hand dropped to his waistband. Cruz saw it and laughed, low and rough.

“Oh yeah. You’re feelin’ it now.”

Diego swallowed hard. “I feel… weird. Like I wanna… stretch or fight or just… I dunno. Do something.”

Cruz’s grin widened. “Your brain’s getting lighter, isn’t it? No more overthinking. No more feelings. Just sweat, and meat, and need. You’re almost there.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt him,” Diego muttered, eyes flicking toward Cody just for a moment.

But Cruz was ready. He grabbed Diego’s face and shoved it deep into his pit. This time, Diego didn’t resist. The sound he made was obscene—wet, muffled, like a moan buried in a grunt. His fingers dug into Cruz’s side, clinging there as he inhaled again, and again, and again. Cody turned away, his heart pounding so loud it drowned out the room. He wanted to scream, to throw up, to run, but he couldn’t do anything but watch as his boyfriend drowned in the scent. The muscles swelled faster now. Diego’s traps thickened, shoulders bulking outward. His skin glistened with sweat that wasn’t his a moment ago. His jaw clenched, sharpening. The softness in his features—the gentle, thoughtful glow—melted away under a sheen of testosterone-fueled hunger. He was panting when Cruz finally let him go.

Cruz leaned in, brushing a thumb across Diego’s cheek. “You’re gonna forget him soon. That little twink tied up in the chair? He’s just background noise now. You don’t date guys, bro. You don’t even like ‘em.”

Diego’s voice was different now. Thicker. Slower. “Nah, man… I don’t—” He shook his head. “I don’t swing that way.”

His eyes flicked to Cody. And for the first time…They weren’t eyes of love. They were eyes of confusion. Disgust.

“Why’s he tied up?”

Cody’s breath caught in his throat.

Cruz chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, bro. He’s just someone you used to know. Before you woke up.”

Diego nodded slowly. “Yeah… before I got fuckin’ real.”

Cody’s mouth was dry. He couldn’t speak anymore—not because he didn’t want to, but because the words wouldn’t come. His throat was raw from screaming, and no matter how much he begged, pleaded, or cried, Diego kept slipping further away. And now… now Diego was laughing.

“Bro, what the hell,” Diego grunted, holding his arms out and flexing. His voice was lower now—rougher, almost sluggish—and when he looked down at himself, it was like he didn’t recognize his own body, but didn’t care. “I feel jacked, dude. This shit’s wild.”

“You’re becoming you,” Cruz said, standing behind him, one hand on Diego’s shoulder like a proud sculptor admiring his work. “The real you. The one who doesn’t give a single fuck about anything except lifting, smashing, and stinking up the world.”

Diego snorted. “Yeah, man. I feel, like… free or something.”

Then Cruz grinned—and shoved Diego down, forcing him to his knees on the floor.

“You’re not done yet, bro,” he said, turning around and tugging down the waistband of his shorts. “You’ve still got the last piece to inhale.”

Cody’s eyes went wide. “Don’t—please, don’t—”

But it was already too late. Cruz hunched over slightly and ripped one—a deep, slow, bubbling fart that hissed out of him like a leaking gas valve, thick and sulfuric.

PFFFRRRBBBSssssssssst

The sound was disgusting, but it was the smell that hit the room like a war crime. Cody gagged instantly, jerking against the ropes. It smelled like fermented protein, swamp rot, and something sourer. Rancid. Diego twitched on the floor. His nose wrinkled—but instead of recoiling, he leaned forward. And breathed.

“Duuude,” he groaned. “That’s so rank.”

Cruz let another one out, louder this time, right into Diego’s face. “Yeah, man. Drink it in. This is what alpha really smells like. Raw. Brutal. Unfiltered.”

Diego moaned—and his body shuddered. The change kicked into overdrive. His neck thickened, veins pulsing just under the skin. His jaw cracked and widened, growing meatier. He scratched at his pecs as they ballooned, sweat soaking through his skin. His abs were now fully formed bricks, deep and grooved. A trail of dark hair snaked down his stomach. Then came the shift lower. Diego’s groin twitched—and then bulged. His crotch strained against his underwear, a visible wet spot forming as the musk worked its way deeper into him. He groaned again, louder, hips jerking involuntarily.

“Goddamn, my cock’s like… heavy, bro,” Diego slurred, dumbfounded. “And it reeks.”

Cruz laughed. “Yeah it does. That’s manhood, bro. Cheese it up. You ain’t some soft little boyfriend anymore. You’re a freakin’ jock beast. You stink like a god now.”

Diego’s face twisted. Something inside him cracked—and Cody could almost see it.

“What’s a guy doing tied up in our room anyway?” Diego asked, scratching his balls through his boxers. “That’s, like… gay or something.”

Cody’s heart shattered. He stared into Diego’s eyes—and saw nothing left of the man he loved. No recognition. No softness. Just heat, hunger, and haze.

“Please remember me,” Cody whispered. “You’re not… this. You were never this.”

Diego snorted, rising to his feet with a stretch, his pits now reeking on their own. He turned to Cruz. “Yo, let’s hit the gym after this. I’m, like, amped. Might blow out my back doin’ squats or some shit.”

Cruz slapped him on the back. “Atta boy.”

Then, casually, he ripped another fart—wet this time—and Diego laughed. Like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Like it was home.

Cody’s chest heaved in shallow, panicked breaths. He didn’t even notice the tears streaming down his face anymore. His wrists burned from the ropes, his lungs ached from the choking stench lingering in the room—but nothing hurt more than what he saw in Diego’s eyes. Nothing. Not even the way Diego smirked now. That same crooked smirk Cody used to find charming after long nights in bed. But now it was warped—emptied. The smirk of a man who no longer remembered why Cody ever mattered.

“Yo,” Diego grunted, flexing and sniffing his own pit, face twisting in satisfied disgust. “We can’t just leave the twink like that, bro.”

Cruz leaned back against the desk, arms folded, his own sweat-streaked chest rising and falling with lazy breaths. “Nah. That’d be cruel, right?”

He turned his head slowly, locking eyes with Cody.

“But not turning him?” Cruz grinned. “Now that would be cruel.”

“No,” Cody croaked, struggling again, more desperate than ever. “Please. I’m not like you. I don’t want this.”

Diego crouched beside him, still shirtless, drenched in testosterone-soaked sweat. The scent rolled off him like heat. His shorts were tented—he didn’t care. His grin stretched wider as he leaned in close, bringing that overwhelming stink with him.

“You’re gonna love it, bro,” Diego said, voice thick and sloppy. “You just need to… breathe it in. Like I did. Shit changed my life.”

“Changed you,” Cody spat, his voice breaking. “Killed you.”

But Diego just laughed and yanked the chair—and Cody—closer to the bed with a screech of wood on tile. Cruz was already waiting, one leg up on the mattress, arms lifted behind his head. His pit hair was soaked, glistening, the reek curling in the air like visible fog.

“You know what to do, Diego,” Cruz said. “Wake your bro up.”

Cody thrashed, screaming now, tears and snot smeared down his face as Diego climbed up behind him, locking him in place with thick, muscular arms. His sweat dripped onto Cody’s neck, into his shirt collar. It burned like acid.

“Don’t fight it,” Diego breathed. “It’s so much easier when you let go.”

Cruz stepped forward—and shoved Cody’s face right into his pit. The scent was instant. Like a punch to the soul. Thick, rancid, hot. It had weight, like Cody was being smothered by the very essence of rot. It filled his sinuses, coated his throat, burned into his lungs. His mind reeled. It was so wrong. So foul. So intimate in the most degrading way. He coughed, gagged—but Diego held him tighter. Another shove. Another breath. And the edges of his thoughts began to curl like paper near fire.

“You smell that?” Cruz grunted, voice smug. “That’s the new you. That’s what real life smells like. Not perfume and feelings. Just funk. Just man.”

“Y-you… can’t…” Cody whimpered.

But the fog was already in him. Cruz farted—loud, wet, toxic—and the wave of stink hit Cody hard. His legs kicked instinctively, but there was nowhere to go. The gas was in his mouth, behind his eyes, changing him. His brain screamed—but the scream got quieter. His skin tingled. His chest itched. Something stirred in his groin.

Diego leaned in, whispering, “Feels good, huh? Bet you’re already feelin’ your cock growin’. Gettin’ ripe. Jockified.”

Cody moaned—no. Whimpered. He didn’t want to enjoy it. But the scent kept pressing in, pounding at every barrier inside him like a hammer made of rot and sweat and dominance. Then he felt it.His abs flexed. Not much. But more than before. A faint ridge. A twitch in his biceps. His thighs clenched, tingling as if blood was rushing to places it hadn’t before.

“First pump’s always the best,” Cruz said, smirking down at him. “Now let’s blow the rest of your brain out.”

He turned, stuck out his ass, and let it rip.

PPPPFFFFRRRRBBBTTTTT

Cody’s scream turned into a gasp. And then…A groan. His eyes rolled back. And the first real crack in his identity appeared.

Cody was sweating. Not from exertion—but from exposure. From absorption. His pores were screaming, wide open, trying to fight back against the flood of rancid stink that was seeping into him from every angle. The room was a sauna of testosterone. A crucible of stink, where men were melted down and reforged. He could feel it in the air. Thick and humid and sour. It clung to him like grease—seeped into the fibers of his clothes, into his hair, under his tongue. And it was changing him. His head lolled forward, still bound tight, mouth parted as he gasped for air. But there was no clean air. Only the thick, unrelenting fog of Cruz’s unwashed pits, his protein-fueled farts, and Diego’s now jockified musk rolling off him in waves. Cody whimpered, his voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

“Still fighting, huh?” Cruz’s voice oozed through the haze like oil. “Your body’s not.”

Cody couldn’t argue. His chest—flat, smooth, once more aesthetic than athletic—was starting to itch. He could feel the skin tighten, like something was pushing up from beneath the surface. He looked down, horrified, as the slight swell of his pecs pulsed once… then again. Slow, throbbing. They weren’t sculpted. Not yet. But they were thickening. Meat growing under skin. He shuddered, sweat pouring down his temple.

“No,” he whispered. “Not me. Not this.”

But his body wasn’t listening anymore. His abs tightened—involuntarily. His core spasmed, and he felt something click deeper inside him. Muscle fibers waking up. Stretching. Gorging themselves on the stink like it was fuel. And then came the hair. It was subtle at first. Just a darkening at the center of his chest. But as he blinked, more spread across the plane of his torso—sparse but wiry. Around his nipples. Down his belly. It was spreading like moss, fed by the humid air.

Diego leaned down beside him, eyes glittering with jock-stupid pride. “Told you it’d hit good, bro. Gettin’ thick already.”

“F-fuck… off…” Cody tried to snarl—but it came out weak. Almost needy.

His thighs spasmed next. He felt them bulk. From the inside out. Like two logs swelling under his jeans, pressing outward. Denim stretched. The seams groaned. The skin under it burned with the heat of transformation, and with it came a smell—not theirs, but his. He was starting to make it. His own stink. Faint. Cheesy. New. Cody’s lip trembled. His cock, hard against his will, throbbed once—then twice. It pulsed with heat, and with it came another involuntary moan.

“Feels good, huh?” Cruz whispered, pressing his foot against Cody’s swelling thigh. “That’s your body telling you the truth. You were never a boyfriend. You were a bro waiting to happen.”

Cody shook his head, barely. But his shoulders rolled. A stretch. A twitch. And then another pop of muscle at his traps. He could feel himself getting heavier. And the smell… it was changing. No longer entirely alien. There were moments—brief, terrifying moments—where Cody caught a whiff of something familiar, his own sweat, and instead of gagging, he didn’t mind it. He wanted to mind it. He wanted to hate it. But his brain was lagging behind his flesh. And his flesh was humming. Buzzing with submission. The stink was in him now. Soaked into his skin. Feeding the growth. His arms bulged. Not dramatically. But enough. He could see the rise of muscle at his biceps. Not sculpted—just meaty. Heavy. Bro muscle. Thoughtless, gym-earned thickness. His jaw clenched—because his jaw was widening. He felt his tongue press oddly against his teeth as his face began the slow shift from soft to sharp. His cheekbones rose. His brow thickened. His nose twitched—and for one horrifying second, he liked what he smelled.

BRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

A deep fart bubbled from Cruz—wet and brutal—and Cody’s whole body tensed. His cock jerked in his pants, and this time, he didn’t moan. He groaned. Low. Dumb. Needy.

“Shit,” he breathed. “That’s… nasty…”

Cruz leaned in close, licking his lips. “Told you. Your body’s ours now. Your brain’s next.”

Cody’s mouth hung open now, his head lolling slightly from side to side as if it were too heavy for his neck. His tongue was dry, lips cracked, and every breath he took felt like it pulled him deeper into the stink-soaked abyss. And for the first time… Cody didn’t answer. He just breathed. He reeked now. His own musk had joined the oppressive cloud of Diego and Cruz’s sweat, armpit grime, and weaponized farts. The room was a man pit, and Cody was just one more source of it. But now the transformation had shifted focus. Now it was going for his mind.

“Yo,” Diego said, nudging him in the shoulder with a thick, veiny arm. “You in there, bro?”

Cody blinked. Sluggish. Blank. For a moment, nothing came out. Not words. Not even a sound.

Then—“Uhhh… yeah?” It came out like a question. Like even he wasn’t sure.

Cruz laughed. “Fuck yeah, bro. That fog’s finally settin’ in. You feelin’ it now?”

Cody’s brow furrowed. “Fog…?” he repeated, voice slow, dazed. “Yeah… uh… head’s all… floaty n’… shit…”

He blinked again. Thoughts were hard. Words didn’t line up right. Every sentence felt like a workout. His brain was sweating just trying to think. It wasn’t just confusion—it was erosion. Like every deep thought, every emotional memory, every abstract idea was being ground down into dull thuds.

Diego crouched in front of him, grinning that idiot grin Cody used to love—before it had turned into something stupid and cruel. “You remember your name, bro?”

Cody opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes went distant.

“Cuh…” he started. “Cuh… Cody?”

That was right, wasn’t it? It sounded right. But then Cruz leaned in—and ripped another one. A deep, nasty fart that vibrated the air between them. And just like that, Cody forgot what he was saying. All that came out was a dumb little laugh.

“Shiiit… that’s rank, bro…” he mumbled, drool sliding down the corner of his lip. He didn’t wipe it. Didn’t even notice it.

Cruz clapped him on the back. “That’s the stink killin’ the parts you don’t need, bro. No more overthinking. No more dumb feelings. Just horny, hungry, sweaty fuckin jock shit.”

And Cody’s cock—already half-hard—twitched at those words. He barely reacted. Didn’t question it. Didn’t even feel embarrassed. Diego leaned in closer, and Cody didn’t move away. His former boyfriend’s pit was right there—hot, wet, tangy—and Cody’s nose flared. He sniffed. Once. Then again. Then deeper.

“Smells… fuckin good, bro,” Cody slurred, eyes fluttering half-closed. “Like… like home…”

Cruz stepped behind him again, rubbing his own swampy pits with both hands and dragging the scent up under Cody’s nose. “Say goodbye to the old you, man. Say goodbye to… uh, whatever fag shit you used to care about.”

Cody tried to focus. Tried to remember. A voice in his head whispered, Boyfriend. College. Love. Literature. Self-respect. But the words were slippery. Soft. Weak. They melted in the heat of the room, in the musk, in the fart-saturated air. And what replaced them was a warm, thick nothing. A dull buzz. Like a gym locker room had grown sentience inside his skull.

“Yo,” Cody muttered, blinking slowly, a little smile spreading over his slack lips. “I think I wanna… lift or somethin’…”

Diego and Cruz fist-bumped.

“He’s almost there,” Cruz grinned.

Cody stared blankly at the wall. His jaw hung loose. His pecs bounced slightly with every lazy breath, chest rising and falling with bro-tified rhythm. He was still Cody, technically. But what was left? A name. A smell. A cock getting thicker by the second in his gym shorts. And a mind…turning to gas.

The room was so thick. Dense. More atmosphere than air now. Sweat clung to the walls like condensation. The musk of three bodies—soured, ripe, corrupted—filled every breath, and Cody’s lungs had long since stopped resisting. He was breathing stink like it was oxygen. His eyes were glassy. Mouth slack. His once-tight jaw now hung open in a permanent dumb bro gape, glistening with drool. His hair, matted with sweat, clung to his forehead. His gym shorts—when had he even gotten into gym shorts?—clung to his hips like a second skin, tented by the heavy, pulsing meat swinging beneath. But the real change now…was in his gut. A deep, grinding pressure had been building. Right at his core. A boiling, festering tension that felt like it had weight—like a storm brewing in his bowels. And it meant something. Cody didn’t know what anymore—he barely knew how to think. But deep down, some part of him knew: this wasn’t just gas. This was everything.

“Bro,” Diego said, fanning the air with one hand, grinning. “He’s loading up. Look at that face. He’s about to blow the last of his fuckin brain out his ass.”

Cruz cackled, pressing a hand to Cody’s shoulder. “This is it, man. The grand finale. Say g’bye to being Cody.”

Cody moaned. A low, wet sound. More sound effect than word. His stomach gurgled—loudly. Pressure shifted. His hips jerked slightly forward. And then—

PFFFRRBBBLLLT

A long, wet, noxious blast ripped from Cody’s ass, echoing off the wooden chair beneath him. His head snapped back, eyes fluttering, a dumb, blissed-out smile stretching across his dopey face. But that was just the start. The gas kept coming.

PRRRRT-BRRRAAAP—SPRRRRTCHHHHH

Each fart shook his body. Tore through what was left of his dignity, his identity, his memories. Each one was like a balloon popping inside his skull—memories of college, of books, of Diego—gone, carried out on a cloud of steaming, toxic jock-gas.

“Uhhh… what was… what wuz I…”

Another blast. Loud and lazy.

BBBRRRFFFFFT

There goes literature. There goes his GPA. There goes his first kiss. Gone.

“Fuck, bro!” Diego laughed. “He’s straight-up fartin’ out his whole personality!”

Cody grunted, abs flexing involuntarily as another bubble of pressure bloated in his core. His body loved this. His cock was fully hard, oozing, bouncing with each thunderous release. His brain was just static now—warm, sour, content. One final glorious blowout built in his gut. The biggest yet. The one that would take everything. Cody’s eyes rolled back. He leaned forward. Gave a dumb, guttural, “Hhhurrghh…”

And let it rip.

PPPPFFFRRRRRRBBLBLBLLLTKRRRRTTTTT

A seismic, unholy sound. The stink hit hard, like paint thinner and rotten cheese. His whole body shuddered. His mind emptied. When the sound faded, Cody just slumped back in the chair, arms limp, mouth open. There were no thoughts left. Just heat. Scent. Sweat. Hunger. He blinked slowly and scratched his gut. Then he looked at Cruz and Diego, eyebrows slightly scrunched like he was almost thinking something.

“…yo,” he said finally, in a dopey, lazy voice, “when’s, uh… leg day?”

They howled with laughter. Cody laughed too, not knowing why. Just knowing he was home.

[jockgaytf]

Imagine the smell

[jockgaytf]

This morning Christopher walked past the new building site on his way to the university. He didn't see the two construction workers sneak up behind him ubtil it was too late. He was dragged into a container, tied to a chair. They slammed a helmet on his head and put a gasmask on his face, through which they started to force him to smoke cigarette after cigarette.

At first he was in panick. The smoke burned in his lungs and the helmet seemed to drill holes in his skull through which a voice was shouting directly into his mind, twlling him he was part of Marlboro he exisyed to build the future. He resisted for a long time, but after a few hours the smoke didn't bother him anymore. It felt actually quite nice, like it was supposed to be. The voice had disappeared too. It was no longer needed. He knew now that he was part of Marlboro, there to build the future.

He would be there for a few hours more, ro make sure that the conditioning would take hold and then hebwould be set free.

Free to serve Marlboro.

[jockgaytf]

Tanner and Mitch were just regular dudes, sharing a cramped dorm room at State U, surrounded by textbooks and empty pizza boxes. Tanner was a skinny comp-sci major, always tinkering with code, while Mitch was a chill history buff, nose-deep in books about ancient wars. They were tight, always joking about their lame social lives, but lately, their frat bro friends were actin’… different, bro.

It started with their buddy Jake, a linebacker who used to be sharp as a tack. One day, Jake showed up to the dorm in a tight tank top, flexing his biceps like they were his whole personality. “Yo, bro, you hit the gym yet?” he grunted, scrolling X on his phone, eyes glazed over. His feed was all jacked dudes lifting weights, flexing, and chugging protein shakes. “Gotta get swole, bruh. Thinkin’s for nerds.” Tanner laughed it off, but Mitch noticed Jake’s vocab was shot—every sentence had “bro” or “bruh,” and he couldn’t string a thought together without mentioning gains.

Then it spread. Their whole friend group—Nate, Cody, even quiet Ethan—turned into brain-dead jock bros overnight. They ditched class for the gym, traded hoodies for stringer tanks, and started posting thirst traps on X, captioned with shit like “#SwoleLife, bro! 💪.” They’d flex in mirrors, chug pre-workout, and talk about nothing but sets, reps, and “gettin’ shredded.” Tanner caught Nate staring at his phone, muttering, “Fuck, bro, this pump’s got me so horny,” like he didn’t even notice he said it out loud. Their eyes were vacant, like social media had sucked their brains out and replaced ‘em with protein powder.

“Dude, what’s up with everyone?” Tanner asked one night, sprawled on his bed, scrolling X. He’d seen the same posts—jacked influencers with captions like “Ditch the books, lift the weights, bro! Obedience is pleasure!”—and felt a weird tingle. “They’re, like, dumb as rocks now, but they look… happy.”

Mitch, flipping through a history book, shrugged. “It’s brainrot, man. Social media’s frying their heads. All those gym vids, that toxic ‘alpha’ shit. It’s like they’re hypnotized.” But even as he said it, Mitch’s eyes flicked to his phone. A jock influencer’s post popped up: “Flex for the ‘Gram, bro! Thinkin’s overrated!” Mitch snorted, but he didn’t look away. His fingers hovered over the screen, and Tanner noticed his roommate’s breathing get heavy.

“Yo, you good, bruh?” Tanner asked, catching himself. Bruh? Where’d that come from? His heart raced. He felt… good, though. Like, really good. His eyes drifted back to X, to a video of a dude deadlifting 400 pounds, sweat dripping, muscles bulging. Tanner’s dick twitched. “Fuck, bro, that’s hot,” he muttered, then froze. “Wait, what?”

Mitch chuckled, but his voice was lower, dumber. “Bro, you feelin’ it too? That… rush?” He flexed his arm, staring at it like he’d never seen it before. “Been watchin’ these gym vids, and, like, I can’t stop, bruh. Makes me wanna lift. Makes me so fuckin’ horny.” He grinned, adjusting his shorts, and Tanner noticed Mitch’s usual baggy tee was gone—replaced by a tight Under Armour tank he didn’t even own yesterday.

Tanner’s head felt foggy, like his brain was sinking into a protein shake. “Bro, we gotta… fight this, right?” But his phone buzzed, and he couldn’t resist. Another post: “Join the swole squad, bro! Cum and get dumber!” Tanner’s cock throbbed, and he laughed, a dumb, empty sound. “Fuck, bruh, why’s this feel so good?”

The next week was a blur. Tanner and Mitch started hittin’ the gym, hard. Tanner ditched his coding projects, Mitch tossed his books. They’d wake up, chug pre-workout, and pump iron for hours, flexing in the gym mirrors, posting vids on X with captions like “#JockLife, bro! 💦.” Their dorm room smelled like sweat and Axe body spray. Tanner traded his jeans for Nike compression shorts, Mitch rocked jockstraps under his gym shorts, both of ‘em always shirtless, showing off their growing pecs.

Their brains were melting, bro. Tanner tried to read a line of code one day, but the words swam. “Fuck, bruh, who needs this nerd shit?” he laughed, jerking off to his own reflection instead. Every time he came, it was like his IQ dropped ten points, his thoughts narrowing to gym, sports, and lookin’ hot. Mitch was worse—caught him muttering, “Bro, obedience is pleasure,” while watching MAGA jock influencers rant about “alpha energy.” They’d high-five, call each other “bruh,” and flex harder, their dicks always half-hard, minds too dumb to care.

By mid-semester, they were gone. Tanner, now “T-Dawg,” had a buzzcut, a chain necklace, and a permanent smirk. Mitch, “Mitchy-Bro,” was tatted up, always in a backward cap, spouting shit like, “Yo, bro, let’s hit legs and then rail some chicks, bruh!” Their friends, all jock bros now, cheered ‘em on, their X feeds a loop of flexing, lifting, and “#NoBrainNoPain” posts. They’d jerk off to their own vids, each orgasm making ‘em dumber, hornier, more toxic. “Fuck, bro, I’m so hot,” Tanner’d grunt, cumming and feeling his last smart thoughts vanish. Mitch just laughed, “Bruh, we’re livin’ the life!”

Their individuality? Erased, bro. No feelings, no thoughts—just muscle, gym, and that sweet, dumb, horny haze. They were MAGA jock fuckboys now, flexing for the ‘Gram, forever trapped in the swole life, too dumb to ever break free. And fuck, bruh, it felt so good.

💪🏼🤤💪🏼

[jockgaytf]

⚠️ Gear advice. After so many demands, finally, here are the shops I get my gear from.

http://www.slinkystylez.com

http://www.hm-leder.de/shop/en/Rubber__Army__Skin/Rubber-Underwear/?osCsid=lou0pf9d3ja1c8musdlf7v5653

http://www.liquidvinylclothing.com/MensVinyl.html

http://leder-gummi-studio.de/index1.html

www.vk79.com

www.blackbody.com

www.rob.eu

www.blackstore.com

http://store.theleatherman.com/Clothing.html

http://www.blackstyle.de/

https://www.regulation-london.com/clothing/rubber

http://www.hot4hogtie.com/

http://www.latexskin.pl/about-us/

www.expectations.co.uk

https://www.gumique.com

www.leather-maniacs.de/

http://latexd.com

www.rubaddiction.com

http://www.invinciblerubber.com/

www.latexas.com

http://www.breathless.uk.com/

www.skintightrubber.com

http://www.spexter.com/

http://www.rubber-store.com/

http://www.syren.com/c-193-mens-fetish-wear.aspx

http://www.langlitz.com/

http://www.justinlatex.co.uk/

http://www.prolatex.com

http://www.westwardbound.com

http://www.665leather.com/

http://affordablelatex.com/

https://www.latexkledingmaikel.nl/latex-heren-broek.html

http://www.rubberdoll.org/

www.libidex.com

https://www.lelo.com/

http://www.toughgloves.com/

www.signaturelatex.com

http://www.latexcatfish.com

http://www.latexclothing.co.uk/

http://www.sinvention.com

http://www.twistmyrubberarm.com/

http://www.milanoo.com/wholesale-Latex-Clothes-c327/3.html

http://www.lovehoney.co.uk/product.cfm?p=19262

www.steelwerksextreme.com

www.rubbersfinest.com

http://www.rubbermagic.de

www.studiogum.com

http://www.rubear.ru/

www.boyzshop.com/home.html

https://www.strappado-sm.de/

www.latex-maske.de/

https://www.futurefetish.eu/index/

https://www.bdsmstore.nl/

http://www.medi3000.de

www.demask.com

http://www.northbound.com

http://web-001.meo-team.com/

https://www.mr-s-leather.com/

http://www.polymorphe.com/index.php

www.fetteredpleasures.com

http://www.e7gear.com/index.aspx

http://www.fetishtoybox.com/main.sc

www.wildcat.co.uk

http://www.thelatexstore.com/

http://www.rubber-factory.com/index2.htm

http://www.extremerestraints.com/venus-2000_169.html

http://www.anitaberg.eu

http://www.smeq.de

http://www.wwlhardware.com/Gags_Clamps_General.html

http://www.rubberevashop.com

www.bizarre-lifestyle.com/

http://www.steelpleasures.co.uk/?page=shop_products

http://www.thickwall.co.uk/products_eur.htm

www.latexcrazy.com

http://www.smfactory.be

http://www.medicaltoys.com/

https://www.leatherotics.co.uk/

http://www.thechaingang.com/

[jockgaytf]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.