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The 43rd Annual Fettig High School Career Fair

Mr. Wehmhoff

Mr. Wehmhoff was never particularly excited to go to Fettig High School. No one is ever thrilled to go to work, and if they are then there was surely something wrong with them. Being employed at a high school was the same as every other job: annoying coworkers, same clientele every year just dressed differently, and similar problems repeating themselves. Once and a while something new would surprise Mr. Wehmhoff, but during his six years in the school district he’d found that most issues could be resolved quickly with little to no impact. One issue that had eclipsed this theory however was named Jackson.

After college, Mr. Wehmhoff had been immediately signed on as a history teacher at the high school. He wasn’t a favorite of the students, but they respected him enough to do their work and put in effort. He also wasn’t a favorite of the staff, but he did what was requested of him and got a fair reputation. Mr. Wehmhoff didn’t even stand out in terms of looks. His 5’11 figure had some meat on the bones and the short curly locks/youthful face combo gave him points, but the smaller-than-average dick brought him down multiple pegs. So when Mr. Wehmhoff was promoted to an assistant principal position, it was a little surprising. 

“Really?” Mr. Wehmhoff had replied, more stunned than honored. “But I’m not even 30?”

“We believe it might be best to hire someone of a younger age who may be more in touch with our students,” one of the other principals replied. “Think of it as a trial run.”

As it turned out to be, the trial was based around a student named Jackson. Mr. Wehmhoff was familiar with the student from one of his history classes, but he hadn’t watched how the high schooler had grown up since. Jackson may have been noticeable as a freshman, but as a senior he was now a force. He had the looks, the attitude, and the crew to follow his every step. They copied his tucked-back hair, they copied his attire, and they unfortunately copied his ideology towards school. It wasn’t long until more and more students were experiencing lower grades due to Jackson’s influence, so it became Mr. Wehmhoff’s mission to find a solution.

Mr. Wehmhoff had already tried multiple tactics. Immediately, he had a lengthy conversation with Jackson in private, but after multiple closed answers and scoffs the assistant principal knew the discussion would go nowhere. He observed from afar, taking field notes like an ethnographic researcher. He even conferenced with other teachers around the state who had experienced similar issues. It wasn’t until someone suggested interviewing one of Jackson’s crew that Mr. Wehmhoff felt like he had found a lead. The idea was a good start: ask the student why they followed Jackson and what they found so captivating about him.

And that was how Jacob had ended up in the assistant principal’s office during the 43rd Annual Fettig High School Career Fair. He sat across from Mr. Wehmhoff, uncomfortable at the questions being asked of him.

“Jacob,” Mr. Wehmhoff tried to sound reasonable. “All I’m asking is why?”

“’Why’?” Jacob muttered. The 18-year-old certainly wasn’t as charismatic as Jackson. Pimples covered a portion of his face, and he hid his runner’s build underneath a bulky sweater and expensive joggers. His body and outfit would have put him as a jock, but his submissive personality damaged that classification.

“Why do you follow Jackson? What makes him so attractive?”

Mr. Wehmhoff had meant the word in a magnetic application, but he was surprised to see the high schooler take it differently. A scarlet blush pierced through Jacob’s cheeks. Realizing what he had done, Mr. Wehmhoff immediately opened his mouth to correct his error, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“I…I need to go-”

Jacob was already out the door before Mr. Wehmhoff could stand up. Quietly muttering a few cuss words, the assistant principal walked to the door and followed the student. He wasn’t going to run in his sweater vest and slacks, but Mr. Wehmhoff was able to speed walk briskly down the halls of the high school. It was thankfully empty from the fair, so finding Jacob wasn’t that hard. The student was sitting alone on a bench in front of the school’s gym, his body facing the glass window looking inside. 

Approaching the 18-year-old like a frightened deer, Mr. Wehmhoff slowly sat down on the other side of the bench.

“Jacob, I-”

“When I ran away I thought my message was pretty clear,” Jacob spat, each word coming out like an individual bullet.

“And when I called you to my office I thought my questions were pretty clear,” Mr. Wehmhoff fired back unprofessionally. He gazed at the boy, who’s own eyes were currently focused on the teenagers working out in the gym. Sensing the boy was close to a breakdown, Mr. Wehmhoff took a deep breath and followed the boy’s example.

“Jacob,” Mr. Wehmhoff started as softly as he could. “My choice of words were insensitive. I didn’t mean to expose you in any sort of way. If that’s something you ever need to talk about, my door is always open.”

Jacob didn’t move.

“But I’m not here to interrogate you, I’m just trying to understand Jackson’s dynamic. I want to understand why you students find him so…” Mr. Wehmhoff carefully annunciated his next word. “engaging.”

The two continued to stare into the gym, watching different high schoolers make their way around the sets of equipment. The silence sat with them for a while, stubbornly not moving from its position on the bench between the 18-year-old and the assistant principal.

“I don’t know,” Jacob finally whispered, finally releasing his tense spine. “Jackson’s just got…he’s got a combination of…engaging things.”

Mr. Wehmhoff delicately turned his head to look at the student. “A combination? Can you go into a little more detail.”

Jacob turned his head to face away from the gym. Mr. Wehmhoff wondered if he was trying to hide another set of pinkened cheeks.

“If you don’t want to talk about Jackson, then let’s pretend I’m someone you would identify as a good leader,” the assistant principal offered. “If I was to be a popular kid at Fettig High School, what would I be like? What would define me?”

Jacob wasn’t entirely convinced of this idea at first, but after another minute Mr. Wehmhoff was happy to see the student’s head turn back to the gym.

“Well, I think you’ve already got the height down,” Jacob remarked. “But another inch would help out just a little more.”

Mr. Wehmhoff nodded, seeing an even 6 foot as reasonable. The women he’d dated had always remarked that he had barely hit the standard by making it just above 5’11, but he’d always taken that as a compliment.

“You’d be much more focused on your body.”

“In what areas?” Mr. Wehmhoff asked, standing up to get a better look at his own stature.

“Uh…” Jacob muttered. “Everywhere?”

“Oh.” Mr. Wehmhoff tried to keep his irritation from leaking into his tone. “Everywhere?”

“Your legs for sure.” Jacob pointed to the poles encased by the assistant principal’s straight pants. “Everyone always jokes about skipping leg day, but you’d make it a priority. You’d have muscular calves that were obviously given special attention, and thick calves from all that time spent curling and raising.”

“Makes sense,” Mr. Wehmhoff remarked, lifting up each of his legs to confirm Jacob’s points. The assistant principal did have a unique passion for leg day, spending an abnormally large amount of time on the machines. His trunks basically made his trousers look desperate to rip open, and unfortunately after a few washes they always would. No matter how tough the fabric, nothing could stand his monstrous legs. Even the pants Mr. Wehmhoff had on now appeared to be in pain trying to hold in all of the mass.

“Gotta work on that chest too,” Jacob answered flatly. “A torso that even out of season is still in its best shape.”

Mr. Wehmhoff rightfully agreed. Although he hadn’t played any sports since his college days, he still coached a few teams at the high school. That meant he had to stay in shape, a shape that would inspire his boys to do the same. He couldn’t help but stare down proudly at his pecs, which forcefully pushed the argyle pattern of his sweater vest out into two mounds. Underneath the pair were the beginnings of a muscle gut, something he’d been afraid of when he was younger but was now proudly making strides towards.

“Oh! Arms too!” Jacob announced. “I’d want you to have arms so bulky that people could hang off of them.”

Mr. Wehmhoff struck a pose for the student, his biceps and triceps creating bulging hills inside of the sleeves of his dress shirt. The assistant principal couldn’t help but gawk at the way his muscles moved, for if he focused enough he could see his own veins move.

“’Want me’?” Mr. Wehmhoff noted, rolling his gargantuan shoulders back to stretch his delts.

“I…I meant I’d follow you…” Jacob quickly corrected. 

“Right,” Mr. Wehmhoff reinforced. He tried to cross his arms over his chest, but he found the maneuver particularly difficult.

“You’d need to have a better style too.”

“Really?” Mr. Wehmhoff replied, thankful they’d gotten off the topic of his body for now.

“At least in high school, people dress how others want to see them, not how they want to see themselves.”

“That’s very intuitive,” the assistant principal replied. Uncrossing his bare arms, he gave the student a thumbs up. He then gave a quick tug to his metal necklace, which was thankfully exposed due to his tight red tank. 

“Style isn’t the only thing other people want,” Jacob huffed, looking back at the gym.

“What do you mean by that?” Mr. Wehmhoff questioned. He followed the high schooler’s gaze while readjusting his long, pulled-back hair underneath a backwards cap, making sure the straight follicles were still fluffed out in the back.

“I…I guess…I mean I…” Jacob stuttered again, the familiar red color flooding his cheeks. This time however, he didn’t turn away. “If you were to be popular at Fettig, people would be…engaged…by you if you had all three major aspects.”

“’Three aspects’?” Mr. Wehmhoff replied. “Like a Triple Threat sort of deal?”

“Yeah, that would make sense.”

“So, what are the three?”

“First off the group,” Jacob sighed. “Gotta have a crowd that follows you everywhere.”

“Reasonable enough.” Mr. Wehmhoff waved off a few of his friends who were approaching from afar. He forgot how hard it was to just have a one on one.

“The looks too.”

“And you’d define that as…”

“Oh, um…” Jacob gulped. “I…I obviously don’t think of guys as um…attractive…but um, if I did…I would say…”

Mr. Wehmhoff listened along as Jacob listed off a large list of items relating to the high schooler’s definition of attractive for a male. While he took in the 18-year-old’s answers, he fidgeted around with a few different things. Ever since he was little, he always needed to do something. Maybe that was why he had always done so poorly in school, but then again he was never the smartest kid anyway. Not only that, but as soon as he hit puberty he was too busy getting laid with some chick every week to do homework. 

No one could resist Mr. Wehmhoff’s beautiful body with his classically-jockish face and body, silky young voice, and 8-inch snake of a cock. He quickly gave his pouch a tug, freeing up his boys as well. Girls were always asking to touch his low-hanging nuts. Those or his Size 14 feet, or get a sniff of his hairy pits, or actually just lick any part of his well-built body. The assistant principal was a ladies’ man, and if the ladies and guys kept coming to him then he wouldn’t stop. Sex was sex, right? If the people wanted him and he wanted the people back, then he wasn’t going to say no! Just, no to girls–Mr. Wehmhoff had come to the realization long ago that only men could properly please other men.

“And third?” the assistant principal asked.

“And…and third?” Jacob’s stutter had switched from one of anxiety to one of nervous excitement. The student only now realizing how perfectly Mr. Wehmhoff represented an embodiment of the word attractive.

“Third…third is the character.”

“The character, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jacob confirmed. “You’d be a high school senior, right? So you’ve got to have all that cocky, confident, hot youthful arrogance that Jackson has.”

Mr. Wehmhoff smiled, cupping the bulge in his loose sweats once again. This time he found himself rather hard, having only now noticed how cute the little twink in front of him was.

“Oh really?” the 18-year-old replied. “And what would my popular name be?”

“Well,” Jacob felt his dick quickly rising. “What’s your first name, Mr. Wehmhoff?”

“Alexander.”

“Then Alex, just Alex.” Jacob nodded his head quickly, tucking his head down in order to stop furiously blushing at the sight of Fettig’s hottest senior in front of him.

“Luckily for you, I do go by Alex already,” Alex responded before stepping right in front of the other boy. “And I’d say I fill your other criteria as well: cocky, confident, and youthfully arrogant.”

Alex then knelt down in front of the other student and placed a meaty hand on Jacob’s bulge. He felt it pulse beneath his fingers, rock hard and begging for release.

“I’m pretty sure you defined those words as ‘hot’ earlier too,” Alex smoothly stated. “Funny, I would’ve used ‘hot’ to describe you.”

Jacob knew it was totally a line, but he was also totally about to blow a load.

“I’ve gotta squeeze in a quick workout, but I’ll meet you in the locker room in half an hour.”

Jacob said nothing as Alex got up and made his way to the gym door. He then grabbed the first set of weights he found and made his way to a machine. Smugly, he began curling his arms up and down, watching the boy squirm outside the glass windows waiting for the thirty minutes to be up.

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28… 29… 30… not bad!

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Nick Robinson, Actor

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The Found Jacket

a transformation story by megachiraz (2021).

 Timothy had taken advantage of the cancellation of some classes today to sit in the park right next to the university building. It was a beautiful day and what could be a better way to spend it than sitting down with a book in a warm breeze?

Normally, he would have gone to the library long ago, after all, he had an important assignment to hand in in two weeks. Of course, he wanted to give his best for that! Timothy had now been studying English and French literature for four semesters and was way ahead of many people in his subject. While others were getting sports scholarships, he had been awarded with one from the East American College of Language and Linguistic Change. This was for his last term paper on the interpretation of Old English and Old French poems in a medieval codex.

He had enjoyed working with it, but all the stuff around it… all the lectures, the awarding of the scholarship, even interviews. That wasn’t something Timothy liked at all. He just wanted to happily continue studying and indulging in his passion for cartoons.

While he had to think for a moment on which page he had stopped when he had packed the book in his bag this morning, he suddenly heard a ringing and then the loud shout of a man. Carefully, without creasing a page, he closed his book and looked around. A little further away, a small cluster of people had gathered around an umbrella. Timothy wondered if he should look too. It had become far too noisy to read anyway. And he would walk past it anyway on his way back to the library.

He stopped a few metres away and took a closer look at the stall. It was a typical toy shop on a trolley selling all sorts of things. Balls, plastic things to throw through the air, plastic things to hit someone and a few single pieces of clothes. “Nothing special”, Timothy mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, and was already turning to go when he paused. His little brother liked those funny balls after all. Maybe he could buy one for his birthday! But as Timothy turned around, the stall had disappeared and no one seemed to have noticed anything. The only thing that reminded him of the stall was a red stain on the floor.

“What’s that?”, Timothy wondered, moving a little closer. On the floor was a plain red jacket. Carefully he picked it up and looked around. Another student came over. “Hey, um, did you see the stallholder leaving from here? He was selling toys and clothes like that.”

“What kind of stall? This is the university, dude, not a kindergarten”, the other one said annoyed and left with a roll of his eyes. Timothy looked after him as he walked away, and a short time after at the jacket in his hands. He would best hand it in at the university lost-property office. Yes, that was a good plan!

Later that afternoon, when he left the library and got his things out of his locker, the weather had changed completely. The sun had disappeared, and a freezing wind whistled through the open doors of the building. Timothy, who had only come here in a thin dress shirt, was shivering all over. He was constantly cold. But it wasn’t particularly hard, because unlike others, he was a bag of bones. He had never been interested in sports, but he didn’t eat unhealthy things all day long either. He was rather someone who only drank tea all day.

He had packed the jacket he had found earlier in a bag. Even though he was uncomfortable putting on other people’s clothes, he needed some warmth now. Timothy quickly pulled the jacket on. “Brrr, it’s made of polyester… gross”, he muttered as he felt the hair on his arms become electrostatically charged. The plastic fabric felt weird, but it warmed him. So, happy with his act, Timothy made his way out when he suddenly felt something wet on his stomach. He took the corridor through the basement as usual because he had an access card as an assistant to his academic chair. In the middle of the corridor, he stopped and touched his stomach, but it was nothing there. “What? I was sure I felt something wet down there…”, he said and opened his jacket and reached inside. But instead of hitting his dry shirt, he felt something sticky. Startled, he exhaled and raised his hand in front of his hands.

Red slime stuck to his hands. “What the hell is that?” said Timothy aloud, shaking his hands in disgust, but the viscous liquid did not go away. Without thinking about it, he tried to wipe it off on his trouser legs. But then suddenly a strange feeling spread all over his upper body. Everything became damp and sticky as the jacket he had just quickly put on began to secrete red goo in huge quantities. In a panic, Timothy tried to scrape the stuff off his body, but more and more came out. Piece by piece, the red mass covered his body and just as he was about to call for help, it entered his mouth and finally covered his face as well.

Don’t fight it, man, I promise you’ll be fuckin’ hot!

A voice pierced Timothy’s body, but he couldn’t answer as more and more of the goo slid down his throat. Suddenly the goo tightened around his body and pressed against his skin.

It’s been years since I got a new chance to make a new dude. Let’s make some updates!

The slime became hotter and hotter, and Timothy felt his body change. Muscles pressed against his slender figure from within. More and more goo slid into his stomach and his body became stronger and stronger. His pecs swelled and the buttons of his shirt popped off. But the slime absorbed everything. The remains of his shirt also dissolved, while trained abdominal muscles rose from his stomach. The slime flowed over his nipples and gave Timothy a feeling he had never experienced like this before: arousal. He moaned with a muffled voice and felt the slime working its way further down his body. His trousers ripped open as the muscles in his legs soaked up the slime and grew larger. His penis, quite normal and unremarkable, pressed against the red sheath of slime. Timothy grunted and his fully slimed hands clasped his trembling member. His butt began to quiver as the muscles in it swelled, giving him a good cushion through which he never hurt himself if he fell.

He loved the pleasure that spread through his body as he continued to stroke his shivering cock. And he rubbed it. And rubbed. And it got bigger between his also growing hands as muscles swelled in his arms. Thick strands of muscle filled his thin arms as they absorbed the goo. He still could not speak because his mouth was still full, but then the stream of goo stopped flowing into his mouth. With a quiver, his shoulders widened and the slime settled on his face like a mask. As if it was hot wax, the goo hardened and pushed and shoved his bones, facial muscles and skin back and forth. His chin became more pointed, and his brown hair dissolved. On top of his head, blond hair sprouted again, but it only grew long at the top, the sides remained short. His lips became fuller, short blond stubble came out of his jaw. Timothy felt better than ever in his life. He let go of his cock with one hand and stroked his thick chest and caressed his six-pack.

Two large drops of slime entered Timothy’s ears at once, leaving him daft for a second. But they formed a large pair of headphones from which he heard the same phrases over and over again.

“You’re hot. You’re a god. You’re a cocky skater. You’re the sexiest dude on the streets. You love to fuck.”

Bit by bit, Timothy’s mind changed and Big T’s took its place. He put his roaming hand down to his balls and massaged them. With a quiet gurgling sound, they swelled as more and more seed was produced inside of them that was begging to be released. He went on and on as his Adam’s apple got bigger and his throat thicker. Due to the increasing amount of testosterone in his veins, his voice dropped an octave as he continued to masturbate. Knowledge from his lectures disappeared. But he wasn’t getting any dumber, but he simply didn’t give a shit about education anymore. All he wanted to do was skating. And weightlifting. And fucking. He groaned and gradually the last remains of the red goo soaked into his skin, leaving a tanned tone. Blond hair sprouted under his arms and between his legs. His chest and legs remained bare. Slowly he began to smell like a man and a musky perfume fogged his senses. His feet popped out of his too-small shoes and he wiggled his longer toes until his feet reached size 14. And with one last guttural moan, Big T came and shot his load all over his book-filled leather bag.

Still panting, Big T opened his eyes and a pair of grey sports shorts, under which he wore nothing, appeared on his lower body. “What the fuck am I doing down here? Am I a nerd or what? Time to meet the dudes”, he said, scratching his head as his bag turned into a skateboard. He grabbed it and adjusted his cock in his pants. Black ink appeared on his right hand as he scratched his crotch and a clock tattoo became visible on the back of his strong hand.

As he stomped out, his jacket changed. The cheap polyester became a high-quality red sports jacket with white stripes. Irritated, he looked around. Wasn’t he wearing his new shoes? They had been damn expensive, he thought and looked down to the floor. A little bit of the red goo oozed out his big feet and formed a pair of brand-new red trainers. Why was he here? In the library? As if he wanted to read boring books! “Let’s get out of here quick”, he muttered and just before the door he pulled out his smartphone and turned the music up really loud. Finally, Big T left the building on his skateboard and with booming music on his ears.

Hey tf-fans! This is requested story from FA - it was something different because I’ve never worked with goo in a transformation story. I hope you like! If anyone of you people have ideas for future stories or just want to have a little chat -  drop me a message or ask a question! I’d love to hear your thoughts and love answering your questions! Have fun and stay safe!

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reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

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Goodnight Son 1.5

 This story is a prequel and a sequel of Goodnight Son by the OG, Vchris1989

——————————————–

“I made up my mind and sent my essence surging towards his sleeping body like a lighting bolt.”… “ “No! Please!  Get outta there!” He practically screamed.”… “ “My name is Justin, and I love having my Dad inside of me.”…

My thrill of stealing my son’s 18 sexy body was so much, I had to jerk off while driving. At first, I was managing to do both pretty well, but soon it was all beating the meat and no looking at the road. As I shot a stream of jizz on my ripped abs, I realized that I had just crashed in the middle of the desert. Stepping out of the car, I let the sun shine on my athletic frame.

“Well Justin, you got your old man in a bad situation, naughty boy.” I taunted my son.

The old Justin would have probably panicked and screamed for help, but I just decided to wait for rescue and sunbathed on the roof of my car. As sweat dripped on my muscles, I ran my soft fingers on my pecs and moaned.

“Jesus, I could spend the rest of my life touching you, son. Such a great gift that your body is…”

“Hey mate, need a helping hand ?” Shouted a stranger.

I hopped from the car, landing with ease thanks to my toned feline legs, and looked at the handsome guy in front of me.

“What kind of help ?” I snarked, groping my crotch.

The man was shocked at first but then laughed. Heat up, I walked closer to him and nibbled his left ear, making him moaned. Suddenly, he grabbed me by the hair and kissed me, slapping his lips against mine. Soon, we were both naked and my ass was wide open on his rod. Even though, I used my son jock body to fuck him, pushing my hole back and forth on his dick. 

“Dude! YOU’RE FUCKING ME SO HARD!” He moaned with pleasure.

After a while, my ass was filled with his manjuice and we were both laying in my back seat, wanting to stay here forever.

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I woke up in my bed, covered in sweat.

“It’s okay babe, just go back to sleep.” Said my current boyfriend.

Even if he thought that it was a nightmare, I knew the truth, it was my son trying to take back the control from his-no, MY body. The talisman that I bought on the dark web kept him dormant, but he could still come back. However, I knew one thing that made him silent, fucking the hell out of men.

“I don’t think that I want to sleep yet, fuckboy.” I whispered to my boyfriend.

The twink just giggled as I slid my large cock inside of him.

——————————————–

Man, I’ve got to tell you, sex and working out has been giving more power over his gorgeous body. I haven’t had nightmares about him in months. Plus, now I have more beef on the arms. Now, all that I want to do is laying on my bed with this hunky body of mine while the scent of my cum and sweaty armpits fill the room.

“PARKER!” Shouted my roommate, bursting the door wide open. “You fucked my girlfriend ?!”

In spite of my toned frame, my roommate was the quarterback of the Football team, so he easilly lifted me by the neck. From bad to worse, my son was back again, fighting for the body that belonged to me.

“UNNG! GET OUT MY BODY!” My son screamed through me.

All of a sudden, my essence flew from my body and went into the first body it could find, the quarterback. As my son opened his eyes, he felt his much more stronger body.

“Your welcome for the workout.” I said seductively as he looked at me.

“Dad! Please, you can keep him, I won’t tell anyone.” My son begged.

“Hmm, Justin, Brad is fun for a spin.” I purred as I felt my flexed biceps. “But I’d rather keep you for the ride.”

My son was about to run but I pushed him on the bed with my stronger body and spread his legs.

“Please dad! Don’t do this!”

“Quiet, just enjoy your last moment of control.” I mocked wih Brad’s barritone.

As I started to fuck Justin’s boypussy, I opened my mouth and let my essence go back home. Justin tried to close his mouth, but I was thrusting in him so hard that he had to breathe. My son’s scream were muffled as I took back what I owned. Admiring my body, Brad was progressively realizing with shock what he was doing.

“Th-the fuck ?” 

“Shut up, and let’s go back to what we were doing, big boy.” I ordered.

Brad did not have the time to answer that I pushed my ass on his rod, making him groan. His dick swelled as I tightenned my hole. Finally, he roared as he rocketted cums all over me.

“Man…” Brad moaned, laying next to me. “You’re good, but you need to shape up.” He said as he caressed my lean abs.

“Well, we can start to work now.” I teased as I climbed on top of him, ready for another round.

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(NOT MY STORY. STORY IS ORIGNALLY FROM VCHRIS1989.TUMBLR.COM WHICH DEACTIVATED YEARS AGO. REPOSTED FOR RECORD KEEPING PURPOSES)

Oh Fuck!  Next time I’m not gonna possess my big brother after he gets back from the gym!  I’m so fucking hungry and thirsty!  I grab a carton of milk and reach for a glass, but fuck it- I begin swigging directly from the package.  Ahhhhhh much better.  This soreness feels so satisfying, but shit, these compression shorts are so tight and my bro’s dick is starting to get so hard.  Holy Hell this libido is insane!  How does he even function as a human being!  I need someone to suck my cock- Now!  Boy, girl I don’t give a shit!  Fuck I just gotta text whoever’s closest!  Brandon it is!  He responds almost immediately, “10 minutes.”  I can’t wait that long!  I jump onto my bro’s bed and yank those compression shorts off, shivering as I glide my fingers along his smooth, rippled body before I grab my hard as marble cock and begin moaning out as I rub this 8 inch work of art.  With the other hand I rub along my brother’s tight abs and defined pecs, enjoying the feeling of them tightening as waves of pleasure travel through my body.  Then, I grab my brother’s nuts and begin yanking them around, sending me over the edge as my back arches and gritting my teeth, whole face a mess of pleasure as cum launches from my brother’s dick, coating my whole chest with his warm juices.  My toes curl and my legs squirm during this afterglow and I giggle a bit, knowing I’ve got two more loads in me AT LEAST.  Brandon, my bro’s manly, hairy, and gay trainer rushes in clearly excited to play with my brother for the first time-My brother is straight as an arrow, but somehow he keeps befriending the manly gay guys-Unfair right? 

“Duuuude, you started without me,” he says kinda bummed having already unbuttoned his shirt, ready for action.

“Plenty more where that came from,” I say with a wink as he grins and walks over to the bed.  God damn, Brandon’s hot.  I wanna feel his scruff all over my body, and shit, my bro may be straight as an arrow, but with me inside, his hole is suddenly hungry to be filled by Brandon’s cock and cum.  Oh yeahhhh I just might never leave, I think to myself as Brandon licks the still warm cum off my body, getting me hard all over again.

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John was a nerdy guy. He read books all day and new everything about anything there is. He drew comics for fun and watched TV when he is bored. But John wasn't happy. He was bored by his current life. He wanted a change.

One day, he popped round to his younger brother's house. His younger brother was a muscular, dumb jock. Exactly what his parents hated. Exactly what John wanted to be. He took the spare key from under the door mat and walked inside. The house was small and crappy. It was a sea of dirty clothes, wrappers and stains all over the walls, floors and even ceilings. The smell was horrible, John held his nose as he waded in. His brother was at the gym so John wouldn't be worried about seeing him. John rummaged through the smelly socks, pants and half eaten food and found what he was looking for. The skateboard.

It was crusty and stained, but still worked. John bought it for his brother's 17th birthday. It was also the day he became a bad boy, not just at school, but at home too. It had a wooden base and black top with four wonky wheels. John picked it up and stepped outside.

He placed the board down, determined to ride the board, to see the life he was missing out. John stood on the board and pushed off the pavement. He wobbled a bit, but then kept his balance. He rode down the hill. Getting better and more confident. He did tricks and flips. He got cockier. His mind filled with Skateboard knowledge, pushing out years of memories, work and experience. He laughed, much deeper, and more stupid. He grew muscles. Even in the whistling wind, he grew warm. His face, legs and arms grew with the sweaty musk he was now known for, the heavenly gas swirled around him. He grew warmer, and ripped off his shirt, revealing sweaty abs. His jeans shrunk into cutoff trousers. He pulled on a cap. He was a dumb sweaty jock, riding to who knows where.

He stopped at a house he hadn't seen before. 'His Bros house', a voice in his head reminded, 'To suck him off of course.'

I like cock? He asked himself. Yes. The Voice replied. You want cock and cum. Cum. Both he and the Voice said at once. He went inside to suck a dick or two. What a good life he had.

[aviatorone]

[aviatorone]

#Chill

[aviatorone]

Tom and his roomate

Tom hated coming home from college, his roommate was a complete ass. He even started to get a job during the evenings just to not be there when he was. But on some nights he was unlucky. Just as he was about to settle down on the couch with his dinner the door burst open and his roommate walked in, grinning.

""Heya Tommy!"he walked up behind Tom and lifted his glasses off his face, "Are you avoiding me?" He smiled and leaned down. Now his roommate knew Tom was a bit confused about love, so he loved teasing him by getting as close as he could and breathing down his neck (literally) he once even licked Tom's neck just to watch him squirm.

"Yes I am now give me back my glasses and piss off!" He reach for his glasses and his roommate held them out of his reach. Tom huffed and put his dinner on the coffee table and stood up only for his roommate to hold them higher causing Tom to glare at him. He hate being shorter then him.

"Come on Tommy your nearly there, just a bit further." Tom was stood on his tip toes as he reached and his middle finger just touched the bottom of the lenses and his roommate quickly moved them down and put them in his pocket. "Aww too bad looks like I'm gonna keep them." He laugh his ass off as he rushed to his room. Tom ran after him but by the time he got to his door it was closed and locked.

He huff and go to his room and grab his only spare pair of glasses to find they were missing aswell, he groan and rub his face. He went back to the couch and picked up his meal and started eating, his vision wasnt too blurry so he could manage. When he was done he take his plate to the kitchen to see a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the dishwasher. He leaned close to read it, 'i am broken.'.

Tom was seriously getting annoyed now. It was one of their agreements that if something important broke they call someone to fix it. He looked at the pile of dirty dishes and sighed he was going to have to wash up again. When he was done he go back to the couch and lay down turning on some movie and watch it as best he could.

Halfway through the film he fell asleep and his roommate had come out of his room sitting in the spare chair for a few minutes. He pull out his bluetooth speaker and connect his phone to it, he place it on the table making sure it was by the end of the couch Tom's head was and went back to his room.

He pressed play on his phone and heard his voice quietly under the crack of the door. He grinned and led on his bed, soon it would all work out.

The next day, at around 7 PM the height of Tom's shift, his roommate and a view of his friends walked in. Tom was starting to get a headache from going without his glasses for so long but he was managing. He walked up to the table his roommate was sat at, not noticing it was him, and blinked when something flashed in his face.

"Look who it is-" Tom gritted his teeth just at the sound of his voice, "Its Tommy in his monkey suit!" He turn his phone towards Tom to show him the picture he took. It was of him in his waiters uniform and Tom just sighed.

"What can I get you guys?" He was trying to stay professional and smiled at him, his roommate chuckled and leant on his hands. His friends seeming just as amused as he was.

"How about you get me...a quick blowjob in the bathroom?"

That was it! With a bright red face he threw down his notepad and pen and glared at his roommate. "Fuck you you asshole! That can be harassment! Your lucky you said it to me and not someone else. I've put up with enough of your shit at home, you do not have the right to come into my work place and say something like that!"

Tom was breathing heavily as he tried to calm down, the whole restaurant was quiet and he could feel people looking at him. He stormed off to the kitchen and out the backdoor after picking up his backpack. He didnt even bother to change as he ran home nearly in tears of embarrassment.

When he got home he rummage through all the draws trying to find something to ease his headache and when he found some meds he took the right amount and left it on the side. He go get changed and as he walked back past his roommates room he stopped. He looked at the closed door and reached out to try and open it.

The door opened slowly and he stepped in, he wanted his glasses back. He rummage through everything to find them and when he did he put them on smiling to himself as his vision went back to normal. He noticed his roommates room was a lot cleaner then he expected. There was no posters on the wall or anything, it was just everything he needed and a laptop on his desk.

There was a post-it note on the laptop screen and he peeled it off to see what this one was. It was a to-do list. It was only three long but Tom suddenly felt bad for yelling at him like he did. 'To-do. Try harder at college. Phone plumber. Apologise and be a better roommate to Tom.'

Tom quickly put the post-it note back and went and sat on the couch waiting for his roommate to come home. It wasnt till around midnight that his roommate walked in, Tom stood up and turned to him crossing his arms.

"What? Going to yell at me again?" His roommate raised his eyebrow and went to the chair and sat down. Tom sighed and sat back down on the couch.

"No...I'm gonna apologise. I shouldnt of yelled at you, it's just you have been getting on my nerves since the day you got here. I got that job so I didnt have to come home and see you, you annoyed me that much."

His roommate looked at Tom then at the ground. "Yeah...I know. I'm sorry Tom. I should of just tried to get along with you. You were so easy to mess with. You never retaliated, you just tried to get me to stop and if I didnt you let me carry on. I should of stopped and I'm sorry."

Tom smiled at him, glad he knew he was in the wrong and that he was apologising. "Well we can try being friends if you want. Try getting along?"

"Really? I'd like that." His roommate looked up and smiled, Tom raised an eyebrow as he felt there was something sinister behind his smile but he shrugged it off. "Let's order pizza. I'm sure the pizza place is still delivering."

He and Tom spent the rest of the night talking and watching movies, actually getting along for once, it wasnt till three in the morning that Tom passed out on the couch. His roommate grinned and he knelt beside Tom's sleeping body. He rubbed Tom's head, playing with his hair watching his face twitch chuckling.

"So sleepy arent we Tom." He stop rubbing his head to caress his cheek, "just relaxing. Letting all cares and worries slip away, your mind going blank as you just...sleep." he watch Tom slump into the couch as he entered a state of trance like he had watched him do multiple times to his audio file.

He lift up his loose arm and start massaging it. "As I massage each of your limbs you'll slip ten times deeper into that mindless state, till my voice and only my voice can be heard by your subconscious." He massage both of Tom's arms and strip him of his pants, he start to massage his bare legs watching as he started to get hard.

He chuckle and start massaging his feet, loving how soft they felt and how little dead skin he had on them. "Good Tom. Are you really relaxed now?" He stand up and sit him up slightly so he could lift his shirt and glasses off. Tom nod his head slowly, "am I the only thing you can hear?"

Tom and again and his roommate grin sitting on the table, "Sit up for me Tom. I know it may be hard but you can do it." He watch as Tom's limp and relaxed body struggled to sit up but he would after a while, his head resting against his chest.

"Good boy~" he lift his head up by his chin, "can you open them eyes for me?" Tom's eyes slowly opened and dropped closed again before he managed to open them. His roommate loved the vacant look in Tom's eyes and chuckled.

"Everytime I call you a good boy, a wave of pleasure will go through your body. Going straight to your cock." He smile as Tom shuddered, he would reach over and start rubbing his cock through his boxers. He smile happily loving how it felt to have Tom completely under his control.

"Ah right next step, cant get carried away." He stop rubbing Tom and turn on the TV, he connected his laptop to the TV and started playing a spiral which flashed every now and then. He sit next to Tom and direct his head to focus on it. "Watch the spiral for me Tom, focus and feel your self fall into the center. Ever falling, never waking up till I help you come out of it."

Tom watch the spiral, the flashing making him sink deeper. The subliminal messages imprinting itself into his head. "Why dont you say the words you see Tom? Everytime you say them they just cement themselves into your subconscious."

"I will obey...I will submit...I will serve master." He repeat them over and over again as his roommate start stroking his cock, he would continue to stroke Tom till he heard his voice change in pitch and was more breathy then normal.

"When you cum, you will be mine Tom. You will continue to work to pay our rent but when your at home you will obey everything I say." He stroked him faster and Tom start to moan as he repeat his words, thrusting his hips upwards as he came.

Whilst Tom was coming out of his trance his roommate would turn off the spiral and sit in his chair. Tom blinked and looked at his roommate and he smile. "I live to serve you master."

His roommate grinned and sat got Tom to sit in his lap, he start thinking about all the fun he could have with his new slave.