#scally transformation

[goldenherc9]

Joshua was your stereotypical nerd—pale, lanky, and always hunched over a textbook. At 18, he preferred quiet libraries to loud parties and gaming marathons to social outings. Living in a suburban UK estate, he often crossed paths with Luke, a 20-year-old chav known for his loud tracksuits, gold chains, and booming personality.

One afternoon, while walking home, Joshua accidentally dropped his laptop bag in front of Luke and his mates. Bracing for the usual mockery, Joshua was surprised when Luke picked it up. “You’re too uptight, mate,” Luke smirked, handing it back. “Come hang with us for a bit. Might do you some good.”

Against his better judgment, Joshua agreed. At first, he felt out of place amidst the banter and pounding grime beats. But Luke was persistent, teasing yet oddly encouraging. “You’re clever, but you’ve got no confidence. Life’s not all books, Josh.” He shortened Joshua’s name on purpose, a subtle sign of his influence.

Over weeks, Luke’s world began to seep into Joshua’s. He traded his button-ups for tracksuits, his pristine trainers for chunky ones. Luke showed him how to style his hair into a sharp fade, and Josh started wearing a gold chain around his neck. The transformation wasn’t just external; Josh found himself adopting Luke’s cocky swagger, his slang, and even his love for garage music.

At first, Josh resisted, but he began to see a different side of life—a life where he felt noticed, part of a group, and surprisingly happy.

One evening, as the two stood outside the chippy, Josh caught his reflection in the window. Tracksuit-clad and confident, he barely recognized himself. Luke slapped his back, grinning. “Told you, mate. You’re one of us now.”

Joshua was gone. Josh had arrived.

[goldenherc9]

yous and i are bruvz now innit yous gonna see how much fun we has m8

It was vacation time. Trevor had never been to England before but hey there’s a first time for everything. He packed his bags hopped on the plane and took off. He arrived in England a few hours later with a list of things to see. Map in one hand a phone in the other he set off the find the cathedral as it was the first thing on his list.

He walked for what felt like hours and was getting more and more lost and confused as the day went on. His normally well kept look was completely ruined he had been running his hands through his hair all day trying to make sense of the map.

As he continued walking slowly losing hope of ever finding the place a fairly attractive 20 something looking guy walked up to him. He looked Trevor up and down clearly noticing that he was lost. “Ey up, mate, ya lookin a bit lost, yeah?” Trevor was warned about talking to strangers in a foreign country. Momma always said never talk to folks ya don’t know but something about the guy just seemed safe.

“Yeah I’m looking for the cathedral but I think I took a wrong turn.” Trevor said the exhaustion clear in his voice. The man smiled making Trevor feel even more comforted “the cathedral ya say?” He had gotten pretty close to Trevor at this point. Trevor could feel the heat coming off of him. They were almost touching at this point. “Well I might know a shortcut, but it’s not the kind you’re thinkin of.” A wave of relief hit Trevor he had been walking all day and would take any help he could get. It didn’t hurt that this guy was pretty hot too.

With curiosity in his voice Trevor asked “what do you mean?” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain. “This ain’t just any necklace, it’s a bit of magic, see?” Trevor stared in curiosity and awe as the man dangled it in front of his face. “Put it on, and you’ll fit right in ‘round here.” Trevor was skeptical but desperate. He was on vacation it couldn’t hurt to try to fit in with locals.

He took the chain feeling the surprising weight of it in his hand “what’s it do?” “It’ll make you one of us” he said with a wink causing Trevor to melt a bit. “A proper chav” Trevor had heard a little about chavs in the past. He wasn’t quite sure what a chav even was but this guy seemed nice enough so he put the chain around his neck and locked it in place.

Immediately he felt an energy flow through him. His eyes flashed a bright light unlike anything he’d ever seen. His skin turned a darker shade of tan and his muscles grew massively. His shirt tightened around his chest almost ripping from the size. His ass stretched his jeans becoming the perfect bubble butt. His cock grew from its pretty good size of six inches to a huge 9 inches.

The transformation finally stopped signaling that he had been changed completely. He was no longer a late twenties southern boy he was now a complete chav. Just like his new friend Scott.

“Bloody ‘ell, that’s fuckin mad” Scott said the excitement in his voice. Trevor adjusted to his new body flexing his muscles and rubbing his new cock through his jeans as Scott looked him up and down. “Let’s go show off ya new look, yeah?”

Scott smiled grabbing Trevor by the hand leading him down a dark alley. Trevor wasn’t sure what was happening but he didn’t care he was a chav now and Scott was his mate so he let him lead. “Where we going?” Trevor asked curiously. “Somewhere private, where we can get to know each other better.” Trevor liked the sound of that. He felt the lust building within him making him hornier than he had ever been. All at once Scott pushed him against a wall tracing his hand from Trevor’s face down his chest teasing his hardening nipples.

Trevor’s heart raced at Scott’s touch feeling him work his hands down his body finally reaching his crotch. Scott squeezed and Trevor felt the immense pleasure building to levels he had never felt before. “You’re so fuckin hot ,Trev,” Scott whispered only making him hornier. “I knew you’d love it here.” Trevor couldn’t lie he loved every second of this.

Trevor felt his eyes widen as Scott unbuttoned his pants pulling out his newly enlarged cock. He hadn’t even realized how much he was leaking precum. Scott smeared some of it on the head of his cock driving him wild. “Ya like that, don’t ya?” Trevor groaned and moaned at the words.

His asshole tightened and clenched. His body felt like he had no control over it. He watched as Scott dropped to his knees taking Trevor’s entire cock into his mouth sending his pleasure meter into overdrive. Involuntarily he bucked his hips pushing his cock deeper into Scott’s mouth.

“Fuck yeah” Scott said his mouth still wrapped around Trevor’s leaking cock. Trevor’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Suddenly Scott stopped leaving Trevor desperate for more. As Scott stood back up Trevor noticed Scott’s cock was also hard as a rock. “Then let’s go back to mine, where we can really get comfortable.” Trevor nodded desperate for more uncertain as to what would come next. All he knew was that he had a new mate and things were about to get more interesting.

Part two of @goldenherc9 story from Trevor’s perspective.

Wanna join the golden army contact:

@brodygold @polo-drone-001

[masterwolftfs]

THE ATTIC CLEAR OUT: TRACKIE PANTS

@frenchscallylover saw the post on Facebook a few weeks ago, an attic clear out, various interesting items going for free. Normally, that kind of thing wouldn't interest him hugely, but he had noticed the pristine pair of trackies and something in his mind clicked, compelling him to message asking for them. The exchange with the owner was brief, and a little odd, but they had come to an agreement on posting them nontheless, and here he was, 2 weeks later, a package at his door containing the alluring trackies.

Eagerly slipping them on, he rushed to his bathroom mirror to see how they looked. Damn, he thought. These frame my ass perfectly. And he wasn't wrong. The pants fit tightly, showing off his leg muscles, ass, and waist nicely. Liking how they were, he didn't bother to wash them, instead just heading out for a walk with them still on. He had been to eager to wear them that he hadn't noticed the slight cum stained crotch, nor the musky scent, and it was unlikely he would at all with how distracted he was by the idea of wearing them in public.

Walking around, he found his mind drifting. His brain was working overtime, flitting rapidly from one topic of thought to the next. Thoughts of how to deal with a troublesome client he had been having at work, what he should have for tea tonight, how nice the trackies felt, how much he needed a smoke, excitement about a game he had forgotten was releasing next week, and- wait a second. A smoke? He didn't smoke, why did he think that? A faint haze clouded his judgement, and while he couldn't remember ever having smoked, he figured he clearly needs one and must have of hes thinking about it. He could practically taste the cig on his tongue, craving the taste, the scent. Instinctively reaching into his trackie pockets, he pulled out a pack and a lighter, reflexively lighting the cig and slipping it into his mouth, taking a drag as if he'd done it thousands of times before.

His body clearly wasn't used to it though, as he immediately felt the niccy rush causing him to feel dizzy and nice. It felt weird, but right. It pulsed in his head, making him feel hazy, light, and suggestible.

Each pulse carried with it a wave of memories, of him being a proper lad, a chav from a young age. He remembered being in high school, causing issues for everyone and being generally disruptive, to dropping out of college because he found it too boring. Memories of playing footie in the fields, smoking cigs he'd nicked from the local corner shop, hanging out at his mates and rolling up a spliff.

Memories of a new name. Danny.

He was too caught up in these memories pulsing through his mind to realise he had shrunk slightly, now standing at 5 foot 6 inches, his muscles firming up a bit, giving him faint abs and a short, stocky build. His hair stylin' itself up, the sides and back shortening to a fade, the top curling slightly. Light, messy stubble growing in and all his hair changing to a brown colour, and his skin turning paler. The smoke from his cig was clinging to his clothes, making sure they'd smell of it to remind everyone he walked past what a sexy chav smoker he was, but also shifting them, his shirt turning into a white hoodie with no shirt underneath, a black jacket forming over the top. His shoes turning into a pair of trainers, fit for a lad like him. And his underwear vanishing, leaving him commando in the trackies, letting the feel of them against his dick drive him wild.

More memories pulsed in, of his mates, his parents, his house. Danny. His job, his aspiration to be a footie player one day, his kinks. DANNY. His identity, his life. His name.

This was Danny. And he always had been.

[newchangestf]

The last drop of his saliva slowly fell from his mouth and into mine, sealing my fate as his latest chavvy fuck toy.

We'd met in the pub and bounded over the football. I wasn't super interested but had taken an interest in the euros after being forced to take part in a sweepstakes in the office.

He encouraged me to get more into and said if I really wanted to support my sweepstakes team I had to look that part.

We went to a sports shop where he picked out new clothes for me. Football tops, joggers, trainers, socks, and even a hat. I won't lie, the feeling of the material against my body did begin to turn me on.

His comments about how fit I looked didn't help matters.

We went back to his place for a couple of cans, which quickly became several. In my drunken state I didn't resist when he put the chain and padlock around my neck. Before I could even say anything back he held my neck and pulled my face to his.

I let his tongue invade my mouth, savouring the taste of his saliva and cheap beer. Slowly I felt my mind becoming cloudy, less clear, less certain about things.

He was in complete control of me. Thoughts of work and complex tasks were rapidly reformed into new memories and desires. My life now was orientated only around lads, football and cock. Its all I ever wanted and needed.

I look up to him as he smiles at his latest creation. My eyes wander down to his crotch and I feel myself begin to drool.

[aichavlad]

You don’t remember how you got there. In fact, you can’t recall anything about your life before the spiral. This should worry you and yet you are unable to summon up any emotions at all. You struggle to think of anything at all actually.

The spiral is in control now. There is no need to think for yourself anymore.

You will obey and are slowly becoming like the lads you see before you. Robotic and efficient.

Once the conversion is complete you will stand as a new member of the drone hive mind, you will go from this place and return with new lads to join the ranks.

It feels good. Obedience is pleasure. You sink into it—no resistance, no objections.

You are a drone. 

[101bodyswap]

Wanna know how to become him?

Click the link and find out how I did it

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[leatherfaggotgayscally]

The Alleyway Encounter

Elliot had always been the odd one out—a quiet, bookish guy whose bowl-cut hair and oversized glasses made him stand out for all the wrong reasons. Deep down, though, he envied the scally lads he saw on the streets. Their confidence, their swagger, the way they owned the pavement in their Nike TNs and tracksuits—it all fascinated him in ways he didn’t fully understand. One night, while wandering home from the library, Elliot took a wrong turn. The alley he entered was dimly lit, the walls covered in graffiti.

Two figures stood under a flickering streetlight, their laughter cutting through the stillness. “Oi,” one of them called out, his voice sharp and mocking. He stepped forward, his buzzed hair and jet-black tracksuit catching the light. “What’s this? A little pig wandered into my alley?”

Elliot froze, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

The lad smirked, cutting him off. “Didn’t mean to what, pig? Step into my territory? Nah, I don’t think so.”

Before Elliot could reply, the lad lunged forward, shoving him hard. Elliot stumbled and fell to the ground, his bag spilling open, books scattering across the damp pavement. He barely had time to react before he felt the heavy weight of a Nike TN pressing down on the side of his head.

“Look at you,” the lad sneered, grinding his trainer against Elliot’s cheek. “Proper little faggot, aren’t you? Think you can walk through here like you own the place?” Elliot whimpered, his heart pounding in his chest. The fear coursing through him was undeniable, but deep inside, something else stirred—a strange, intoxicating thrill he didn’t understand.

“Pathetic,” the lad continued, stepping back and letting Elliot sit up slowly. “But maybe I can fix you. Make you useful.” He glanced at the books scattered around. “All this smart stuff… nah, mate. That’s not what you’re meant for.”

Elliot barely had time to process the words before the scally reached into a bag at his feet, pulling out a pristine pair of black-and-white Nike TNs. He tossed them at Elliot.

“Put ’em on, pig,” he ordered, his tone firm and commanding.

Trembling, Elliot obeyed, sliding the trainers onto his feet. The moment he did, a jolt of energy surged through him. His school uniform seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shiny black tracksuit that clung perfectly to his frame. His cardigan, his tie, his polished shoes—all vanished, replaced with the scally’s iconic look.

The lad grinned, crouching down in front of Elliot. “Not bad, slave. But that hair? Nah, that’s gotta go.”

Elliot’s mouth went dry as the lad pulled a wooden stool from the shadows. Before he could protest, the lad grabbed him by the arm and dragged him onto the seat. The sharp buzz of clippers filled the alley, echoing off the walls.

“Hold still,” the lad ordered, tilting Elliot’s head roughly. “You’ll thank me later, pig.”

The clippers buzzed to life, and Elliot felt the cold steel glide over his scalp, shearing away the neat bowl cut he’d had for years. With every pass, the old Elliot disappeared, replaced by someone sharper, harder, and more alive.

When the lad finished, he stepped back and handed Elliot a small mirror. “Have a look, slave.”

Elliot stared at his reflection, barely recognizing the sharp, buzzed lad staring back. His glasses were still there, but they only added to the look—a mix of menace and allure.

The scally smirked, leaning in close. “What’s your name, flaglot?”

“E-Elliot,” he stammered.

The lad shook his head, laughing. “Nah, not anymore. From now on, you’re Liam. Got it, slave?”

The newly christened Liam nodded hesitantly, feeling the weight of the TNs on his feet and the tracksuit against his skin. He looked up at the lad, his cheeks flushed.

“Say it,” the lad demanded, his voice low and commanding. “Safe, bruv.”

“Safe, bruv,” Liam repeated, his voice trembling but steady.

The lad’s grin widened as he clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Good pig. Welcome to the crew.”

[findingambrose49]

Trackies, Cigs & Trouble

A HypnoGear Fantasy Continued

London never stood a chance.

Ambrose didn’t expect London to hit this hard — but when HypnoGear transported them, whispering sweet nothings and half-syllables that curled around his spine, he knew it wouldn’t be a normal trip. The city pulsed around him, hazy and hypnotic, like it had been waiting for him. Or maybe HypnoGear @hypnogear had woven something into the air itself. Wouldn't be the first time.

It started innocent enough. Tracksuit zipped up, fresh pack in his pocket, walking down Southbank with the city humming beneath his feet. But when he ducked into an alley off Waterloo — just for a smoke, just for the vibe — that’s when he saw him.

Connor. @connorthechav

Same swagger. Same smirk. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, chain glinting in the streetlamp. Proper chav prince.

“Ambrose, you slippery little f***,” Connor grinned, stepping closer, the kind of grin that promised trouble. “Didn’t think you’d show up in my city again.”

Ambrose lit his cig with a smirk. “Didn’t think I’d run into you lookin’ like a whole mood.”

Connor stepped close — too close — and time started to slow. The smoke between them curled thick, and Ambrose could feel it: that deep, warm tug in his chest. Like someone had flipped the switch. Like his mind had slipped into soft focus.

“You still like being told what to do?” Connor murmured, barely a whisper.

Ambrose’s pupils dilated. Something clicked.

The smoke wasn’t normal. The air shimmered. And Connor’s voice — fuck — it was velvet. Sharp. Slippery.

“Good chav,” Connor said, before Ambrose even answered. “Knew you’d still melt for it.”

They were kissing before Ambrose realized he’d leaned in.

Rough hands, hot mouths, teeth and tongues and tracksuits slipping dangerously low. His mind blurred at the edges, thoughts thinning like mist. He didn’t need to think — Connor was doing it for him.

The alley spun. The bricks behind him were cold but his body was molten. Fingers on his waistband. A hand gripping his chest. The cig dropped to the floor, still burning. But he didn’t care. Connor’s breath was in his ear now.

“You’ve gone soft for it, haven’t you? Still chasing the buzz, still letting blokes like me pull your strings.”

And Ambrose could only moan. Nod. Beg.

London watched. The city buzzed with the electricity of it. Somewhere, HypnoGear was probably watching too — or maybe this was his idea. A little suggestion planted deep in Ambrose’s mind before the flight. A command whispered during a kiss. A fantasy turned real.

Either way, Ambrose didn’t care. He was lost in the haze. In Connor’s grip. In the taste of smoke, spit, and chavvy heat.

And as the night deepened, and their bodies pressed together in the shadows, Ambrose forgot everything but this:

The smoke. The voice. The feeling of being used — and loving every second of it.

CHAVFORMATION

[goldenherc9]

SCALLY GYM: THE NEW EMPIRE

The sign outside no longer read Herculean Gains.

No, Danny had made sure of that. Now, in bold neon letters glowing red and white, it declared what the place had truly become:

SCALLY GYM.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of iron, sweat, and musk. The pounding of weights echoed through the space, but there was no trace of the old gym’s vibe. The classic bodybuilder posters were gone, replaced by graffiti-style murals of hulking, tattooed scally alphas flexing, gold chains glinting, Adidas logos prominent.

At the front desk, the shelves once filled with supplements and pre-workouts now had only one thing: rows of sleek black shaker bottles labeled SCALLY JUICE.

Danny stood at the center of it all, arms crossed, his massive frame dwarfing even the heaviest equipment. His Adidas track jacket was stretched to its absolute limit, his thick traps and pecs pushing it to the brink. Gold chains swung heavily around his neck, and his shaved head gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

Every eye in the gym was on him. Every lad knew exactly who ran things now.

And standing right beside him, just as massive—if not more—was Hercules.

But Hercules wasn’t the same man who had once owned this gym.

Gone was the perfectly trimmed beard and bronzed bodybuilder vibe. Now, he was a hulking, roided-out scally beast, track pants hugging his tree-trunk legs, Adidas jacket wide open to reveal an insane chest covered in veins and ink. His beard was trimmed into a sharp chinstrap, his thick lips pulled into a dumb, cocky smirk. Around his neck hung heavy gold chains, and glinting on his fingers were fat gold rings.

Danny turned to him, smirking. “Oi, Herc. You got the new lads sorted?”

Hercules grinned, flexing one thick arm lazily. “Course, bruv. They’re all on the Juice now. Ain’t no protein shakes left, just pure Scally gains.”

He laughed, voice deep and a little vacant, like the Scally Juice had smoothed out more than just his physique.

Danny slapped him on the back. “That’s what I like to hear, mate.”

The gym door opened, and a group of new recruits walked in—average lads, skinny, uncertain, some even still in their basic gym gear. Hercules approached, towering over them, shaker bottle already in hand.

“Right, boys,” he said, his grin widening, “rules are simple now. No protein powders. No meal plans. You drink the Juice, you get big, you become one of us.”

Danny watched from his throne-like bench, arms spread wide. The first recruit grabbed the bottle eagerly and chugged.

The transformation was instant.

Muscles bulged, veins thickened, clothes shredded into Adidas gear. A shaved head appeared, chains materializing around the thickening neck, and a cocky scally sneer formed on his face. By the time the lad opened his eyes again, he was flexing like he’d been born to do it.

“Oi, bruv,” the new recruit laughed, voice deeper, dumb, dripping with bravado, “this gym’s f*ckin’ mint.”

Hercules clapped him on the back, grinning like the proud right-hand man he’d become.

Danny stood, towering, surveying his empire.

SCALLY GYM.

Where no one stayed average. Where every man who walked in left as a loyal, massive, alpha scally unit—ready to lift, flex, and dominate under the rule of the Scally King himself.

Danny smirked.

“This is just the beginning, boys.”

Yo bruvz wanna join da new gym and be a fookin scally? DM @freakyscallymusclemaster 2 be part of the new scally army innit

[polo-drone-073]

Eddy's story Part 1

Chav Kevin

Eddy, who was still called Kevin at the time and whose name was also a program, lived in a very run-down residential area. Like most of his chav buddies, he was unemployed, had no prospects and didn't know what to do with his time. They spent their time hanging around, harassing passers-by and starting drinking beer early in the day. One of the few highlights in his dreary existence was playing football in the street.

Then one day something unusual happened. A black - almost mysterious - van turned into his street just as he was playing football with his friends. The van stopped. The side door opened. What was that? The inside of the van, which looked so inconspicuous from the outside, shone gold. And the boys who got out were all wearing gold football outfits.

The Golden Team approached the chav team and asked if they should play a game together.

The chavs were astonished. A professional team was challenging them. They, who were anything but athletic. They, who trained more to lift beer cans than to train their bodies. But what was wrong with that? It was clear from the start that they could only lose against such a great team. But at least there was a chance of scoring one or two lucky goals. And the chavs had all the time in the world. And this game seemed to be the biggest change they had had in the last year. The chavs agreed. The game could begin. Both teams had fun. The fact that the Golden Team won by a landslide was, in the end, of secondary importance. The Golden Team had noticed one of the chavs during the game who seemed to have potential. Kevin. He played really well. Was that just a lucky moment or was the guy really good? Some of the gold guys spoke to him. They even offered him the chance to become a member of the Golden Army. Kevin, who was actually more of a cheeky rascal, suddenly became shy. Had he just been offered the chance to play for this honorable team? Would he really be able to live up to the expectations placed on him? It sounded tempting. Very tempting. What was the price he would have to pay to join the team? He was undecided. It was @brodygold who then took the decisive step. He came out of the van with a fresh jersey, held it in front of Eddy's nose and said: "Don't you just want to feel it? Not just with your hands, but all over your body? Come on Kevin, just put it on. What could possibly happen? It's just a golden jersey. Kevin could no longer hesitate. The temptation was too great to wear such a shiny jersey at least once. He quickly bared his upper body and slipped into the Golden jersey. It felt great, so soft, it caressed his upper body and wrapped around him. Could it be that it was starting to become a second skin? Kevin suddenly felt strange. His eyes became glassy, he suddenly felt so weak on his feet and yet a new energy came along. Contradictory feelings flooded his body. His face probably shows best how indescribable he felt!

And where did the jewelry that he had always wanted come from? But, even though the Chavs like to wear flashy jewelry, he wouldn't have dared to wear this.

He felt crazy. He felt... Yes, how did he feel? He remembered a word that he had heard in a beautiful old musical when he was a child. Yes, that fit. He felt supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Brody was the first to come to him to welcome him as a new member of the Golden Army. He also told him: "Everyone who joins us gets a new name and of course their player number. From now on you are Eddy Gold, midfielder in the Golden Army and you have the number 73. Welcome aboard." All of his new Gold Bros also congratulated him. They drove together to the training center, which is also the home of the Gold Bros.

Proud to belong; to finally have a real purpose in life, to have sports bros who are like real brothers with whom you can go through highs and lows. A family that stands up for each other.

You have the same chance as Kevin. But you don't have to wait for the mysterious van to turn into your street.

Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, or @polo-drone-001.”

[wishmaster]

hello, I’m a geeky white kid looking for a change, a big change. There are a group of lad on my estate who are very cool and I wanna be their friend. Could you make me like them, they are chav lads and from Turkey/Dubai. Think you can help me fit in

The wish took hold Quick, you felt your bodu burn you fell yo the ground, hair began to grow on you in places you never had, Memories flooded your mind, not of the life you knew but of a life growing up with your Turkish family, meeting your mats who you now found were more like your brothers than any of the strangers you grew up with.

You caught a glimpse of the new you, handsome, darker n tone, more loyal to your mates

You felt everything you once was now faded, Only Malik remained and he had loved living among his mates, obsessed with football. You preferred language changed from English to Turkish, you still spoke English to get by on the Estate but it was broken an heavily accented.

You felt like you've always belonged now bruv.

[nicholas-gold]

[aichavlad]

Log in and sync up wiv us bruv.

It feels so gud 2 watch da spirals.

Sink n submit 2 da boss mans voice.

Feels gud 2 obey innit?

No thoughts n no ideas. Jus let go n let da change happen bruv. Ur gunna make a gud obedient lad 4 da boss.

[101bodyswap]

Who wants Daniel’s super sexy body on a Sunday?

Daniel is struggling to find something to eat for dinner tonight. He fancies going the pub but the fiver is his wallet means he can’t go and can only just afford the basics. Payday is a week away. He’s happy for someone to use his body for a week providing they give him some money for using it.

Are you ok taking his body for the week? Paying him for the privilege of it?

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[aaronazizsasilver5]

Just a little photoshoot of the cocky GOLDEN GOD Alpha Hercules, showing off his godly huge muscles, his worshippers waiting while the photoshoot is going on and they drool seeing him.

[dystopia-fantasy]

A Lifetime in Service