axeeglitter

[axeeglitter]

Hi! I want to participate in your party.

I don't look like an aristocratic vampire at all, I'm more of a country guy, but I still have vampire fangs from last Halloween.

can I borrow the whole costume from your store?

Sorry this costume is not available anymore. please pick another one if you want to participate in the event :)

[axeeglitter]

A few slots are still available so don't be afraid to send a message if you want to participate in this event ;)

October Event

Step inside, the moon is high, A whisper stirs beneath the sky. Mister Melorius returns anew, With shadows dark, and magic too.

His haunted shop begins to glow, Awakened from the long, cold snow. The masks, the robes, the ancient charms, Are waiting there to hold your arms.

The night is ours, so don your guise, With secrets hidden from prying eyes. Let the fates weave their tangled thread, And watch your true self slip ahead.

From dusk 'til dawn, you’ll walk unknown, In worlds where only dreams have grown. But heed this call, for you must share, Your soul’s own story, laid bare.

Send a message, tell me true, Of who you are, and what you do. For only then will the magic wake, And the haunted night shall truly take.

So step right in, if you dare, For the Halloween event awaits you there.

���1 - Military 🟢2 - Genie 🟢3 - Vampire 🟢4 - 80s 🟢5 - Pharaoh 🔴6 - Super Hero 🔴7 - Redneck 🔴8 - Cowboy 🟢9 - Gargoyle 🔴10 - Latin Lover 🔴11 - Gladiator 🟢12 - Robin Hood 🔴13 - Sorcerer/Mage 🟢14 - Werewolf 🟢15 - Toga Party 🟢16 - Robot 🔴17 - Greaser 🔴18 - Knight 🔴19 - Biker 🔴20 - Super Villain 🔴21 - Ballet Dancer 🟢22 - Pumpkin King 🟢23 - Policeman 🟢24 - Tarzan 🔴25 - Horse 🔴26 - Douchebag 🔴27 - Firefighter 🟢28 - Regency 🔴29 - Prisoner 🔴30 - Quarterback 🔴31 - 🎃 GRAND FINALE 🎃

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Hello, fellow wanderers of the night…

Just as the shadows return, so does the Halloween magic! This year, I’m conjuring up another spooky event that will unfold throughout the entire month of October, and I’d love for you to join me.

To enter this eerie celebration, all you need to do is send me an ask message and tell me about you. Let me know who you are and what costume you’d like to choose from Melorius’s mysterious shop and I'll then cross the said costume from the list. I’m certain he’ll be delighted to guide you in finding the perfect disguise... but beware, some costumes might carry more than just a thrill this time.

I look forward to hearing from you soon, and remember, magic awaits the ones who are looking for it...

[axeeglitter]

October Event

Step inside, the moon is high, A whisper stirs beneath the sky. Mister Melorius returns anew, With shadows dark, and magic too.

His haunted shop begins to glow, Awakened from the long, cold snow. The masks, the robes, the ancient charms, Are waiting there to hold your arms.

The night is ours, so don your guise, With secrets hidden from prying eyes. Let the fates weave their tangled thread, And watch your true self slip ahead.

From dusk 'til dawn, you’ll walk unknown, In worlds where only dreams have grown. But heed this call, for you must share, Your soul’s own story, laid bare.

Send a message, tell me true, Of who you are, and what you do. For only then will the magic wake, And the haunted night shall truly take.

So step right in, if you dare, For the Halloween event awaits you there.

🔴1 - Military 🔴2 - Genie 🔴3 - Vampire 🟢4 - 80s 🟢5 - Pharaoh 🔴6 - Super Hero 🔴7 - Redneck 🔴8 - Cowboy 🟢9 - Gargoyle 🔴10 - Latin Lover 🔴11 - Gladiator 🔴12 - Robin Hood 🔴13 - Sorcerer/Mage 🔴14 - Werewolf 🔴15 - Toga Party 🟢16 - Robot 🔴17 - Greaser 🔴18 - Knight 🔴19 - Biker 🔴20 - Super Villain 🔴21 - Ballet Dancer 🔴22 - Pumpkin King 🔴23 - Policeman 🔴24 - Tarzan 🔴25 - Horse 🔴26 - Douchebag 🔴27 - Firefighter 🟢28 - Regency 🔴29 - Prisoner 🔴30 - Quarterback 🔴31 - 🎃 GRAND FINALE 🎃

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, fellow wanderers of the night…

Just as the shadows return, so does the Halloween magic! This year, I’m conjuring up another spooky event that will unfold throughout the entire month of October, and I’d love for you to join me.

To enter this eerie celebration, all you need to do is send me an ask message and tell me about you. Let me know who you are and what costume you’d like to choose from Melorius’s mysterious shop and I'll then cross the said costume from the list. I’m certain he’ll be delighted to guide you in finding the perfect disguise... but beware, some costumes might carry more than just a thrill this time.

I look forward to hearing from you soon, and remember, magic awaits the ones who are looking for it...

[axeeglitter]

Your Demon Idol

"Sorry Byungwoo, I'm afraid you won't be debuting in this team..."

The sound of foot stomps and sneaker squeaks filled the lonely practice room, each move filled with a mix of disappointment and frustration. Byungwoo couldn't get the words out of his head, no matter how loud the music was, or how many times he danced, it kept distracting him. Messing up the steps again, his foot made a loud screech on the polished floor, "C-Crap!" he yelped, tumbling down to the ground.

Byungwoo winced, massaging his sore legs as he got up. This wasn't the first time either. If he had been cut from line ups in the past, he usually would tell himself to practice more. Training till dawn, taking advice from his seniors, to keep ranking near the top in their countless monthly evaluations for another chance. But this time it stung much more.

Another trainee named Jinu had been primed to take his spot - tall, broad, with a mesmerizing voice and thick black hair, he was essentially an idol already.

It was strange. Byungwoo felt like he had never seen the guy before, but here he was taking his position and ranking first in all the memories of his training. Maybe it was just the jealousy getting to him. Sure, he didn't reach 6'1 like him, but he had good proportions for his lithe frame. And it's not like he lacked looks, he just had softer facial features compared to the sleek cut Jinu.

"I'd do anything to debut." He sighed, gazing longingly in the mirror

As soon as Byungwoo said those words, he noticed something shift in the room's reflection. He squinted his eyes, turning back and forth from the mirror to the rest of the room, the lights on the reflected side had strangely become... purple?

Not only that, but he could swear he heard something behind the glass, almost like someone speaking-

You don't have what it takes to debut.

Byungwoo stumbled backwards, shocked by hearing his own voice talk back. A million thoughts wracked his brain, the words cutting deep into his soul. It sounded like him, but more distorted, more… cruel. In an instant, the entire mirror was set ablaze with violet fire, bursting from the overhead lights and surrounding the mirror-room with flames.

You're too weak, and too ordinary. You'll never stand out from the rest.

The disembodied mimic spoke in tandem with the rising flames, forming a smile through its tapered edges, as it surrounded the mirror-him. He was too entranced to even react, stuck between fear and fascination. It was as if he could feel his own skin burn just from looking at the mirror-him surrounded by fire. Not painful. Not uncomfortable. Just arousal.

But I can help you... be special.

Byungwoo fell over, gasping for air as he struggled to breathe. No longer limited to his reflection, the flame penetrated into the real world, his muscles pulsing with warmth as the color seeped into his veins. He could see purple patterns beginning to take over parts of his body, forming thorn-like lines all over his throat as it slowly tinged his skin with purple.

"What's...ha-happening to me?" he struggled to speak, feeling his vocal chords become huskier with each punctuated word, permanently laced in a sultry undertone. Never mind singing, he could easily hypnotize a crowd with just one word from this sexed up voice. The patterns kept up their relentless assault, moving towards his upper body and leaving behind a trail of growth with every jagged line. His back exploded into view, instantly filling out his baggy shirt along with his broadening shoulders.

"Someone help..." Byungwoo tried to scream, this couldn't be happening to him. Oh god, he groaned, it felt like his torso had doubled in size. His lats were so big, he had to push his arms to the side to even make room. It wasn't just width but his height had grown as well, quickly shooting past 6'0 and settling on a nice 6'2, making him dizzy from the sudden change in perspective. Unbelievable, he was getting his dream body in the blink of an eye, taller... bigger... but a part of him stirred with fear.

The audible click of the door restarted Byungwoo's hope, someone was coming. Locking eyes with the approaching figure, he instantly recognized their handsome features.

"Jinu!" Byungwoo yelled in relief. Yes! Maybe he could help him figure out whatever crazy things were happening. But as Jinu came into the light of the fire, Byungwoo's face fell. What he thought was the regular Jinu he knew, slowly morphed into a slightly demonic human. Sharp teeth, clawed hands, golden eyes, slit pupils, and patterned purple skin.

"Wh-what... y-your face and skin." Byungwoo trembled, trying to make sense of what was going on. Jinu looked demonic.

Jinu drew a clawed finger on Byungwoo's chin, "I'm sorry," he said, the slightest note of guilt in his attractive voice. Grabbing Byungwoo by the shoulders, the rate of the patterns increased tenfold, infecting every part of his body.

Burning up with heat, Byungwoo watched as his clothes changed. His slightly tight shirt became a Hawaiian print button-up, as his sweatpants became skinny jeans. He looked like... like he was wearing a stage outfit? Byungwoo panicked for a moment, suddenly noticing how oversized the new clothes were on him, hanging loose enough that he could see the patterns surrounding his chest and arms. How big was he going to-

His thoughts were instantly cut off by the sensation of his pecs inflating with size, making him moan loudly. Equal amounts of muscle and fat piled onto his lean chest, pushing them so far out until they were certified cushions. Byungwoo fondled his growing pecs, addicted to their softness, not yet realizing how massive his arms had gotten. Becoming so wide from the side, he would dwarf even the biggest of idols currently. His mind went back to reality for a second, he didn't want this, did...he? He wanted to be athletic, not a full on bodybuilder, but his large hands betrayed his mind, continuing to play with his chest.

The floral pattern had deformed itself trying to wrap around the new growth, buttons ready to pop. Moving his hand down, he flexed his core, feeling each ab pop out against his palm, no longer lean and trim but blocky and defined, the centerpiece of his entire body. They peeked out from underneath the hem of his shirt, ready to tease anyone that caught sight of it.

The patterns didn't ignore the other parts of his body either, Byungwoo's legs which had grown for his new height had beefed up to match his torso. Skinny jeans becoming ripped from the sheer amount of mass, barely fitting around the thick muscle of his calves. Even his feet had grown, its new purpose to sustain the hours of rigorous choreography and the weight of his thighs and ass.

Jinu continued to fondle Byungwoo's growing body, as his mind wracked between pain and pleasure. It was getting too much. How was he going to fit into his outfits?! Would he even be let on stage?! Hundreds of thoughts flooded his still questioning mind, everything going on too fast for him to understand.

"What's wrong, Abby?" Jinu whispered.

A-Abby? The name echoed deep within his mind, feeling his head throb as a yellow beanie materialized on his head. His name was... Abby? Y-Yeah his stage name right? He got that name from his rock-hard abs, he was an idol after all. New memories had begun to take over his old ones, centuries of memories in fact, with every new purple line on his face.

His dyed blond hair turned into a natural pink, his soft and delicate features becoming sharp and masculine. Every touch from Jinu only drove him crazier, erasing his mind and inflating his body further, quickly eclipsing bodybuilder status as his pecs and ass jutted out with another inch.

No... he clutched his head, he was Byungwoo, his name was Byungwoo. He fought the thoughts in his head, doing his best to resist, trying to remember any semblance of his face or body in the mirror.

But before his thoughts could linger any further, Jinu gripped his waist, pulling Byungwoo's tight pants down to expose his juicy butt. And in one swift motion, plunged his cock right into the man's ass.

With that, Byungwoo's inhibitions finally fell apart, as he moaned like a wild animal. Each thrust from Jinu sent his body into overdrive as his dick grew thicker and longer, throbbing hard and wet as it burst the zipper. Abby roared with lust, the transformation reaching its final stages as his fingernails grew sharper and his eyes turned golden. All the patterns on his body started illuminating, glowing brighter than ever in a deep purple shade as his body tensed up, looking more akin to Jinu by the second. Imprinting the last pattern on his cock like a juicy purple vein, it topped off at an even 10 inches, ready to explode.

"A-Abby, you..." Jinu let out a gasp, finally uttering a word after countless short breaths and restrained pants. He was lost in the worldly pleasures of Abby's round bottom, unable to finish his sentence.

"Fuck yeah, give it all to me." Abby shuddered, responding in place for the man, his sultry voice accompanied with its proper cocky and demanding tone for the new him.

Staring at himself getting fucked like a beast in heat in the mirror, he remembered more and more with each consecutive thrust. Small flashes of a fiery realm, and a deal he had made a long time ago. Centuries of withheld libido injected themselves into his body, feeling his balls swell with cum. The sensation was indescribable, it was like his mind and ass were being fucked at the same time.

Jinu slammed hard into Abby, almost breaking the man with his equally thick cock, repeating over and over until Abby's moans reached a crescendo. Groaning loudly, Abby pushed his body forward, ripping the buttons off his shirt as the two of them came.

Ropes of cum splattered across the room and into Abby's hole, painting both white with endless vigor. Shot after shot ejaculated from the tip of Abby's cock, instantly replaced by his balls filling up with the new him. After what felt like years of pent up pleasure, the two of them slumped to the ground, their skin and features returning back to normal.

I see I've taught the two of you well.

A familiar voice broke through the mirror, the flames which had witnessed the entire ordeal slowly formed a human shape as it spoke. Gwi-Ma, the king of the demon realm, had manifested right in front of their eyes.

To think you managed to pull off a possession, I'm impressed Abby.

No longer in need of a disguise or disembodied shape, Gwi-Ma appeared almost looking human, with dark purple hair and a muscular build. His piercing red eyes staring into the depths of their trapped souls. Jinu's face twitched, on guard around the devilish man. He felt bad, roping an innocent trainee into this, but he had no other choice. Abby on the other hand, could only grin, his personality and thoughts becoming whole with the help of Gwi-Ma, the end piece to his transformation.

But don't forget about our deal, boys. Your memories, your body. Don't get complacent.

Leaving with a stern warning, Gwi-Ma smiled deviously, heading back through the mirror. With the demon-king gone, the mirror became normal again, the tension and fire in the room gone. Jinu glared at the mirror, the painful past in his mind resurfacing from his words. Jinu wondered if Gwi-Ma would keep his end of the deal, erasing his memories, giving Abby's original body back, and maybe even that trainee could... No, thinking about these things would only make Gwi-Ma angrier, he needed to hold back for now. He looked over at Abby, his face flushing a little red.

The hulking beast of a man had regained his composure, already caressing his abs in the mirror, not used to having a physical shell. His hands were busy feeling each and every new sensation in his body, a quiet moan coming out from each body part he groped. Abby smirked, noticing Jinu blatantly checking him out through the mirror. His cock twitched. Their deal could wait. After all, if Jinu wanted him to help Gwi-Ma by pretending to be idols, he'd need to test out all of his assets first.

got inspired by @fredwmain talking about a saja boys tf some months back, so here it is! (this spent way too long in the drafts)

[axeeglitter]

The Shining Knight

Prince Kaelen sat cross-legged in a high tower chamber of his father's castle, surrounded by a glowing ring of mysterious, shimmering runes. The air in the old, long-forgotten summoning chamber of the former sorcerer was thick with the crackle of energy, carrying the smell of soot and centuries-old dust. The black marble walls of the summoning chamber, adorned with carvings of mythical beasts, pressed in on Prince Kaelen's mood. Silver rings adorned his fingers, a necklace hung around his neck, and a black silk cloak draped around him—en ensemble befitting a sorcerer. Desperation had driven him to this tower, to this dark magic.

Princess Karla, his Karla, languished in Jafar’s harem, a prisoner. His father’s forces failed, Karla’s father’s army shattered. Only this path remained: Dark magic! Kaelen chanted, words of power vibrating through the ancient stones. The runes flared, a blinding white, then pulsed with an inner light that consumed the chamber. The scent of old stone and cold magic vanished, replaced by the heady perfume of jasmine and rosewater, the distant murmur of fountains. The room warped, the black marble melting into gilded arches, silk drapes, and plush cushions. Kaelen stood, one foot still anchored in the glowing circle, the other stepping onto a mosaic floor. The portal shimmered beneath him, a window back to his father’s tower. His gaze swept the opulent space, past dancing girls and lounging figures, until it landed on her. Karla. Her eyes, wide with shock, met his. “Karla! Come!” he called, his voice cutting through the soft music.

A shadow detached itself from the opulent backdrop, coalescing into the imposing figure of Vizier Jafar. His black silk robe, unbuttoned to reveal a sculpted chest, seemed to absorb the light. A knowing smile played on his lips. “Impressive, Prince Kaelen. Truly.” Jafar’s voice, a low rumble, seemed to caress the words. “To breach my sanctuary, to tear a hole between worlds… a formidable display of power for a mere boy.”

He strode forward, his gaze fixed on Kaelen, then flickered to Karla. “You want your princess back? You can have her, if she proves she truly wishes to belong to you.” Jafar’s smile widened, a predatory flash.  Karla’s breath hitched. She watched Jafar, then Kaelen, her eyes pleading. “Worship your prince, little bird. Show him you belong.” Jafar’s command hung in the air, a silken whip. “Prove it. Pleasure him. Now.” Karla’s shoulders slumped. She loved Kaelen, but not like this, not under Jafar’s predatory gaze. Still, she moved, her steps heavy, until she knelt before Kaelen. Her fingers, trembling, went to the fastenings of his tight black pants. The fabric, sleek and cool, gave way under her touch. His cock, thick and already semi-hard, sprang free, pulsing with a life of its own. Karla’s gaze darted to Jafar, then back to Kaelen, a flicker of shame in her eyes. She gripped his shaft, her palm enclosing the warm, smooth skin. Her thumb brushed over the head, slick with pre-cum. She began to stroke, a hesitant, up-and-down motion. Jafar leaned in close to Kaelen, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, his breath warm against Kaelen’s ear. “You have what you desired, Kaelen. No need for battle. She is yours.” A low moan escaped Kaelen’s lips as Karla’s ministrations grew bolder, her fingers tightening, her strokes more confident. His mind, already clouded by the summoning, blurred further, softening like wax under a flame. Jafar’s hand, cool and possessive, closed around Kaelen’s balls, cupping them firmly. Karla lowered her head, her lips parting, and took Kaelen’s cock into her mouth. A wet, sucking sound filled the space as her tongue danced around the head, her throat working. Kaelen gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily. As Karla’s mouth worked, her lips pulling and releasing, the black silk cloak clinging to Kaelen’s frame dissolved, replaced by tight, shiny grey silk harem pants that clung to his thighs, his abs and pecs suddenly sculpted, gleaming. He stood, stark and powerful, his eyes fixed on Karla, but an intense, almost vacant stare. Jafar stood behind him, his arm wrapping around Kaelen’s waist in a possessive embrace, his fingers still kneading Kaelen’s balls.

The twisted magic pulsed around them. Jafar’s grip on Kaelen’s balls tightened, a gentle tug, and he pushed Kaelen’s shoulder forward. Kaelen, lost in the sensations, stumbled, his last foot lifting from the luminous circle. The shimmering runes on the floor of the harem faded, shrinking, then winking out of existence. The portal snapped shut with a soft pop, leaving no trace. He was trapped.

 “Fuck her,” Jafar whispered, his voice a low command in Kaelen’s ear. “Now.” Kaelen, throbbing with a raw, undeniable urge, turned to Karla. His eyes, once desperate, now held a hungry glint. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet, shoving her onto a pile of silk cushions. He ripped at his new pants, freeing his hard cock, and plunged into her. Karla gasped, a choked cry escaping her lips as Kaelen thrust into her. Their bodies slapped together, a wet, rhythmic sound filling the intimate space. Kaelen’s hips bucked, his muscles straining, as he drove into her, the sensations overwhelming.

Suddenly, a new sensation. A pressure, warm and firm, at his own ass. A finger, then two, slick and insistent, pushed against his asshole. Kaelen’s eyes flew open, a jolt of surprise arcing through him. He looked over his shoulder. Jafar, a sly smile playing on his lips, leaned close, his dark eyes glittering with a predatory amusement. “My turn, boy.” A sharp, searing pain, quickly followed by a stretch and then a strange, intoxicating fullness. Jafar’s cock, thick and hot, slid into his ass. Kaelen cried out, a strangled sound that caught in his throat. His thrusts into Karla faltered, his hips freezing. His mind reeled, a kaleidoscope of sensations, overwhelming and contradictory. He was being fucked. Fucked from behind, while he himself fucked Karla. The absurdity, the sheer audacity of it, was lost in the overwhelming rush of pleasure and violation. Jafar began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm, pushing deeper into Kaelen’s tight asshole. Kaelen’s breath hitched, a desperate gasp escaping him. The internal walls of his ass stretched, accommodating Jafar's relentless invasion. Each thrust sent a wave of electric current through him, vibrating down his spine, pooling in his groin. He felt Jafar’s pubic bone knock against his own ass cheeks, the soft *thwack* echoing in the muffled chaos of his mind. Jafar’s hand, cool and smooth, slid around Kaelen’s waist, settling on his hips, guiding his movements. He pulled Kaelen back, gently dislodging him from Karla, even as his own cock continued its deep, rhythmic plunges into Kaelen’s ass. Each thrust, a deep, full invasion, sent shivers through Kaelen’s entire body. Kaelen’s balls slapped against Jafar’s thighs with each movement, the sound a soft, fleshy thud. He whimpered, a sound he didn’t recognize as his own. His cock, freed from Karla, twitched, a pre-cum pearl glistening at its tip. He was so close. The friction, the depth, the complete surrender of his back passage to Jafar’s insistent cock, brought him to the brink. A tremor started in his loins, building into a violent shudder. His whole body tensed, arching back into Jafar’s thrusts. He cried out, a raw, desperate sound, as a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure ripped through him. His cock pulsed, hot semen gushing onto Karla’s stomach. He came, his climax fueled by Jafar’s deep, demanding penetration. Jafar chuckled, a low, satisfied sound that vibrated through Kaelen’s body.

Jafar slowly withdrew from Kaelen, the wet, squelching sound echoing in the opulent chamber. He stepped back, a predatory gleam in his dark eyes as he surveyed the scene. Kaelen, sprawled against Karla, his eyes still hazy with pleasure, barely registered the shift. “Karla.” Jafar’s voice, a silken whip, cut through the haze. “From this day forward, he is to be smooth. A pretty boy for my harem. And you will teach him to please a man. He must be perfect.” Karla’s breath hitched, her eyes wide as she stared at the man still sprawled on her. Kaelen, her prince, her fiancé, now just a glistening, panting heap of flesh. Jafar turned his attention fully to Kaelen, his fingers tracing the curve of Kaelen’s newly defined abs, then drifting lower, brushing the blond hairs around his now-softened cock. “Tell me, my sweet Kaelen,” he murmured, his breath warm against Kaelen’s ear, “isn’t she rather… boring? When you can have a real man?” Karla flinched, a wave of hot humiliation washing over her. Her stomach churned. She felt a pang of sympathy for Kaelen, picturing him, her proud prince, reduced to Jafar’s plaything. But then, Kaelen shifted, pushing himself up slightly, a soft, slow smile spreading across his lips, his eyes still hazy with pleasure. Karla’s heart plummeted. The smile was not one of discomfort, not of shame. It was a smile of contentment, almost of anticipation. The realization hit her like a physical blow: she was no longer his beloved, no longer his future queen. She was merely a servant in this gilded cage, tasked with preparing him for another’s pleasure. Jafar, noticing Karla’s distress, chuckled. "My sorcery, you see, it’s quite simple. I give young men what they truly desire, and in return they transform into… my harem boys."

“No!” Kaelen’s voice, sharp and sudden, cut through the air. Karla’s heart leaped. Hope, a fragile, desperate thing, flared within her. Kaelen! Her knight, her prince, was back! He would fight! He would reclaim himself! Kaelen pushed himself up, his grey harem pants shimmering as he moved, his chest rising and falling with a renewed energy. He stood before Jafar, his eyes blazing, a newfound clarity replacing the earlier haze. “I desired to marry Karla!” he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. Karla’s breath hitched, tears pricking her eyes. He still loved her! He was still hers! But Kaelen continued, his gaze sweeping past Karla, settling on Jafar with a calculating intensity. “I am the youngest of my father’s sons. I will never inherit the throne. But if I married Karla, I would become king of *her* father’s realm.” His voice held no tenderness, no love. It was cold, hard, driven by ambition. “I do not care for her. I only desired her crown.” Karla stumbled back, her face draining of color, the fragile hope shattering into a million shards. The betrayal was a physical blow, leaving her breathless, hollowed out. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Jafar’s face. His grip on Karla tightened instinctively, his brow furrowing. Kaelen, the malleable toy, was not so malleable after all. He hadn’t given him what he *truly* desired, not yet. This was a new variable, a dangerous spark of agency. Kaelen stepped closer, a predatory glint in his blue eyes. “Lend me your forces, Vizier. I will conquer her realm, and it will be ours. And then… I will bend my knee to you.” Jafar’s lips twitched, a slow, amused chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Bend your knee, you say? My naive prince.” He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You misunderstand. Once you attain your desire, you will become mine anyhow. King by day, perhaps. But by night, my plaything. My gay plaything.“ He paused, his gaze raking over Kaelen’s body, a challenge in his eyes. “Are you still interested in such a deal?” He expected Kaelen to falter, to recoil, to withdraw his offer. But Kaelen’s eyes, far from recoiling, widened. His breath hitched, a faint flush creeping up his neck. His cock, still slick from Karla’s ministrations, began to swell, hardening against the thin silk of his pants. He looked down at it, then back at Jafar, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face. “Even better,” Kaelen breathed, his voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming desire. Jafar’s smile widened, a true, predatory grin. His hand reached out, cupping Kaelen’s balls, his thumb stroking the heavy sack. He then slid his fingers up, caressing the throbbing shaft, feeling the rigid length of it.

Kaelen gasped, his head tilting back, his eyes closing, a low moan escaping his lips. The unexpected touch, the open acknowledgment of his burgeoning desire, sent a jolt of pure arousal through him, making him far hornier than he had ever anticipated.

And so, the deal was struck. Kaelen, now adorned in the finest, richly embroidered blue silks, his blonde hair glinting in the sun, rode at the head of Jafar’s formidable army. The image of a conquering prince, he led the charge against Karla’s father’s kingdom.

The battles were swift, brutal, and decisively won. Kaelen, driven by an insatiable hunger for power, proved a ruthless and effective commander. The taste of victory was sweet, a heady elixir that pumped through his veins. Finally, he stood in the grand hall of Karla’s father’s palace, the old king’s crown heavy in his hand. He lifted it, placing it firmly on his own head. As the cold metal settled, a strange, profound shift occurred within him. A wave of intense loyalty, an almost physical bond, snapped into place, binding him irrevocably to Jafar. His entire being resonated with a fierce, unwavering devotion to the vizier. And then, a familiar warmth spread through his loins, his cock stirring, hardening, pressing against the luxurious fabric of his leather pants. The erection was immediate, insistent, a silent, undeniable testament to his new, twisted allegiance.

[axeeglitter]

"You wanna touch?" Alex, my neighbour, flexed his bicep slowly, looking into my eye.

"Hmm, no...", I mumbled, "I'm not gay".

"Yeah?" he chuckled, "The bulge in your pants tells the opposite".

I slid my hand down to rearrange it and felt my cheeks burn from shame, "It's just... just...", I tried to come up with some excuse but couldn't find the right words.

"Touch it, if you want", Alex smirked and winked at me.

I don't know what was moving me at that moment but I approached him and put my hands around his bicep. He flexed his arm a few times and a wave of excitement stroke through my body, running from my fingers down to my crotch and then spreading in a waves through my whole body. I bit my lip and tried to keep myself calm but Alex noticed. He saw the spot that formed on my bulge and chuckled, "Haha, I didn't expect you to come so fast".

My face blushed even more.

"Undress for me".

I looked in hesitation not sure if I heard him correctly.

"Don't look like that. I said 'undress'". He didn't shout. Just commanded with a calm voice like it was the most usual thing for him.

I began undressing, pulling off my shirt first, then slowly unbuckling the belt and shoving my short down to the ankles.

"Faster", again completely calm and quiet, "And take them off completely."

I stepped off over the shorts and shoved them to the t-shirt. When I bent down to undo my sneakers, suddenly he stopped me.

"You can leave them. Take off your briefs".

I looked down on the last piece of close that covered my dignity a little bit — a pair of cum stained blue briefs, stretched out with my hard cock. My fingers slid under the waistband and I pulled them down and over my feet, throwing them on the pile with shorts and t-shirt. It was over. I was standing there in front of my neighbour, who I barely knew, completely naked. With my cum covered cock pointing up. Just a few minutes after I orgasmed just from touching his muscles. What a pathetic situation I got myself in.

Alex looked me up and down, inspecting every part of me with his gaze. He stopped slowly at my crotch and the corner of his mouth raised up. "How small is it?"

"Five", I mumbled.

"What?!" it was the first time he raised his voice, "Louder, I can't hear you".

"Five inches", I replied, louder this time.

"That's better. Now, get here and pull my shorts down".

Again I obeyed his order. I stepped closer to him and leant over his massive body. I grabbed the waistband and for a moment I looked up into his eyes, like I needed another confirmation that I heard him right. He just raised his eyebrow and nodded his head.

I pulled the short down. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his massive cock jumped up. It was already hard. At least seven inches and thick, with a thick vein running from its base to the head.

Than every happened so fast that I couldn't even react. Alex grabbed me and lifted up. My feet dangled in the air for a short moment before he sat me on his lap, placing my asshole at the top of his shaft. And then he let me slide on it, thrusting it completely inside of me.

[axeeglitter]

Jack and Connor

Jack, 19, stepped into his dorm room at Queens University, his skinny frame hauling a duffel bag stuffed with books and band tees. First year, fresh start, but his nerdy heart was pounding. The room smelled like sweat and protein shakes, and there, sprawled on one of the beds, was Connor—six-foot-three, muscles bulging under a tight tank top, basketball shorts slung low, showing off that V-line. His jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Connor grinned, all cocky and alpha, sizing Jack up like he was prey.

“Yo, bro, you Jack? I’m Connor, your roomie. Gonna make you one of us, bruh,” Connor said, his voice deep, dripping with that toxic masculine charm. Jack blushed, unsure what “one of us” meant, but his dick twitched at the thought. Connor was the kind of dude who owned every room he walked into, and Jack already felt small next to him.

First week was chill, but Jack noticed Connor’s routine: gym at dawn, flexing in the mirror, always shirtless, always smirking. Jack caught himself staring, his brain foggy with lust every time Connor’s biceps flexed or his shorts hugged his thick thighs. One night, Connor caught Jack’s gaze in the mirror, his hand lingering on his crotch. “Yo, bro, you wanna be like me, don’t ya?” Connor teased, his voice low, commanding. Jack stammered, but Connor just chuckled, pulling out his phone. “C’mere, bruh. Check this out.”

The screen lit up with a swirling spiral, colors pulsing—red, blue, green—spinning faster, pulling Jack’s eyes in. “Just watch, bro. Let it sink in,” Connor whispered, his voice like a warm hand stroking Jack’s mind. Jack’s thoughts slowed, his body relaxed, and his dick hardened in his jeans. The spiral was all he could see, Connor’s voice all he could hear. “You wanna be a jock, bro. Dumb, strong, horny as fuck. Ain’t that right?”

“Y-yeah, bro,” Jack mumbled, his voice slurring, his mind slipping. Connor grinned, his hand resting on Jack’s thigh, squeezing. “Good boy. Keep watching. Let it rewire you.”

Every night, Connor pulled out the spiral. Jack would sit, eyes glued, as Connor’s voice drilled into him. “You love the gym, bro. Muscle’s all that matters. You’re a jock now, bruh. Horny, dumb, and obedient.” Jack’s brain melted under the words, his old life—books, grades, geeky hobbies—fading. He started jerking off to the spiral, Connor’s voice guiding him, each stroke making him dumber, hornier, more like Connor. “Cum, bro. Let it make you mine,” Connor would growl, and when Jack shot his load, his mind sank deeper, his individuality dissolving into toxic jock bro haze.

Connor took Jack to the gym, tossing him a pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless jersey. “No more nerd shit, bruh. This is you now.” Jack nodded, his brain too foggy to argue, his dick throbbing at Connor’s command. In the gym, Connor pushed him hard—bench presses, squats, deadlifts. Jack’s scrawny body burned, but every rep felt like sex, his cock leaking in his shorts as Connor barked, “Push it, bro! Build that muscle!” Jack obeyed, addicted to the pump, to Connor’s voice, to the mirror showing his body changing.

Weeks passed, and Jack was gone. His old clothes—band tees, skinny jeans—were trashed. Now it was all jock gear: loose basketball shorts, tight tanks, snapbacks. He’d flex in every mirror, grinning like a cocky fuckboy, his dick always half-hard, always ready to goon. Connor’s spiral sessions kept him dumb, his brain a loop of “gym, muscle, bro, obey.” He’d jerk off for hours, hand in his shorts, each orgasm stripping more of his old self. “Feels good to be dumb, don’t it, bro?” Connor would say, and Jack would moan, “Fuck yeah, bruh.”

By mid-semester, Jack was unrecognizable. His body was thicker, shoulders broad, pecs starting to pop. He’d swagger around campus, calling everyone “bro,” his voice louder, dumber. He’d abandoned classes, his only focus the gym, sports, and looking hot. Connor was his coach now, his alpha, and Jack lived for his approval. “Flex for me, bruh,” Connor would order, and Jack would, his muscles tensing, his cock throbbing in his shorts. “Good jock,” Connor’d say, and Jack’s brain would buzz with pleasure, no thoughts left but obedience.

One night, Connor pushed it further. “On your knees, bro,” he commanded, pulling out his phone, the spiral spinning. Jack dropped, his mouth watering, his mind blank. Connor unzipped his shorts, his thick cock springing free. “Suck it, bruh. Show me you’re my dumb jock.” Jack obeyed, his lips wrapping around Connor’s dick, his brain screaming “bro, muscle, obey.” As he sucked, Connor’s voice filled him: “You’re nothing but a horny fuckboy now, Jack. No thoughts, no individuality. Just my jock bro.” Jack came in his shorts, untouched, his mind sinking deeper into submission.

From then on, Jack was Connor’s. He’d follow him to the gym, mimic his every move, his every “bro.” He’d goon for hours, hand always on his dick, addicted to the dumb jock life. His TikTok was all flexing vids, shirtless thirst traps, captioned “Just a dumb bro, bruh 💪.” The algorithm fed his obsession, rotting his brain further, making him indistinguishable from every other Gen Z fuckboy. He loved it—loved the cocky swagger, the toxic masculinity, the groupthink that shaped him. Connor’s spiral had erased Jack’s old self, leaving only a muscled, horny, obedient jock bro, forever flexing, forever dumb, forever Connor’s.

“Yo, bro, you ready to train?” Connor asked one morning, tossing Jack a protein shake.

“Fuck yeah, bruh,” Jack grinned, already hard, already mindless, ready to obey. Muscle was all that mattered, and he’d never break free.

[axeeglitter]

Never Going Back

(Original story posted February 11th 2024) Minor edits and corrections

“What’s wrong? You agreed to this, remember?” Kent remarked, trying to hide his budding smirk behind his handsome new bearish face.

“What?!” Warren shrieked in a high pitched voice, much unlike the deep baritone he was used to hearing. “I agreed to have some fun! I didn’t agree to… to THIS!” His voice cracked with a mix of anger and fear as he gestured down at the skinny twinkish body that’d been thrust upon him. A far cry from the huge manly body Kent had stolen from him.

“This is fun.” Kent replied. “For me anyway.” He couldn’t hold back that giddy look on his face any longer as he glared down at his stolen body with wonder. Seeing a forest of dark chest hair covering his huge pecs. It filled him with a strong sense of pride. Almost as strong as his giant new biceps which he couldn’t help giving a quick flex. He just adored how they bulged with strength. “Fuuuuck yeahh…” He groaned in his newly deep and commanding voice before reaching his hands up towards his chest. “Mmmmphff… I should’ve done this years ago!” He groped and squeezed at his heavy new pecs with a lustful grin while his former body looked on in horror.

“But I… you… you can’t! T-that’s mine!” Warren shouted, flustered at the sight before him. The hunky body he’d owned mere moments ago checking itself out right in front of his eyes. He could still hardly wrap his head around it.

“Not anymore you little bitch. This hairy, beefy, sweaty body belongs to me now. Period.” Kent stated, using the power of his commanding new voice. “These huge juicy arms…” he brought each one of them close enough so that he could kiss both biceps with his bearded lips. “These thick trunks you called legs…” He gave each thigh a quick smack, watching the muscle wobble slightly. “These enormous furry pecs…” He proceeded to effortlessly bounce his pecs, looking down with devilish glee as the hairy muscle obeyed him. “And of course this fat raging cock!” Kent’s hand swiftly sank towards his crotch where he gave the dick shaped bulge in his underwear a hearty shake.

“Uffff… fuck I’ve never had one this big before.” He commented as his newly acquired appendage only continued to grow and fatten as he got hornier. “It’s gotta be at least twice the length of the last dick I had. And definitely girthier.” Kent slipped his finger under the waistband of his underwear and pulled them open so he could get a proper look at his new equipment. “Mmmmmm… daddy dick…” he mumbled. “All mine.”

———

About an hour prior Warren had been sitting inside his local gay bar. He went there at least once a week. He was a big man to say the least. Massive muscles bulging from his neck all the way down to his calves and covered with a modest layer of soft fat that resulted in a thick imposing physique. A body that never ceased to stretch whatever clothes attempted to contain its mass. And to top it all off he was covered in manly fur that was most prominent on his chest and belly. All that combined with his sharp masculine face and beard made him the prime example of a muscle bear. The type that could have anyone on their knees and calling him daddy with a snap of his fingers. And he knew it.

Most nights when he went to the bar he’d end up taking someone home with him. Sometimes he’d take other bears like himself for a good flip fuck and other times he’d take twinks for him to dominate instead. Tonight was the latter as a small hairless man who introduced himself as Kent began flirting with him. They talked for a while, clearly eyeing each other up in the process, and before long Warren had one of his beefy arms slung around the twink’s shoulder as he guided the youthful looking man out of the bar and towards his place.

As soon as they were in the door, they began kissing and ripping off their clothes. Kent finally got a good look at the gigantic hairy body Warren had, not so effectively, been hiding. Soon enough Warren was picking Kent up as if he weighed nothing at all before carrying the twink towards the bedroom. But, as soon as Warren sat down on the bed with Kent on his lap, the impossible happened.

Kent’s eyes began to glow a hauntingly deep shade of red while staring directly into Warren’s eyes. The bearish man found himself unable to look away. As if he were ensnared by Kent’s gaze. He tried to move but his body wouldn’t respond. It was then that the world around him began to grow fuzzy. Everything around him was spinning and fading as his very being seemed weightless for a moment. Only for reality to come crashing back down moments later. His senses kicking right back in only now he felt much smaller and lighter than before. And as his vision started to return, the reason as to why became clear. No longer was he looking across at the face of the twinkish man he’d picked up from the bar. Rather he was looking at his own bearded face grinning maliciously back at him!

———

“H-how? How did you do this!?” Warren shouted, demanding an answer from the man who’d just stolen his body.

Kent looked up at him, still groping his new and improved cock. “I’m a Leaper.” He stated blankly.

“A… what?”

“A Leaper.” Kent repeated. “It means I can hop from body to body as I please.” He added while giving his new beard a curious scratch, enjoying the feeling of his newfound facial fur.

Warren looked on in disbelief. “But that’s not-”

“Possible?” Kent scoffed as he finished the other man’s sentence. “I think the evidence speaks for itself.” He said while standing up from the bed and gesturing down at his thick muscle bear body while his new dick strained aggressively against his underwear.

Warren couldn’t help eyeing up the bulge he used to own. Hell, he couldn’t help eyeing up every inch of his former body as this thief paraded it around. He’d always believed he was an attractive man but seeing it from the outside was something else entirely. And not only that but seeing his old body tower over him. Why was it making him so… horny.

“I’ve been jumping from body to body ever since I was 20 year old.” Kent began. “I always found the feeling of taking over another person's life to be exhilarating. But honestly I only ever went for guys like me. My original body was skinny and hairless so for the longest time I’ve only ever swapped with dudes who were just as twinky as my original body was. I thought jumping into anything different would be… uncomfortable and strange. It’s hard to explain.” Kent looked down at his giant new body again before stealing a glance at his new reflection in a mirror across the room. “But you proved me hella fucking wrong!” He exclaimed with a grin.

With a giddy smile, Kent couldn’t help bouncing his pecs again. He never imagined being able to bounce a big pair of muscle tits could be so fun. Or so erotic. “I just thought that since I’m always getting fucked by big hairy daddies that it might be interesting to try leaping into one for once. And fuck was I right!” He groaned while giving his nipples a strong pinch. “I feel so powerful! So manly! So…” Kent took a deep inhale through his nose, absorbing the scent of his new body. Allowing his nose to drift towards one of his armpits as he rose an arm up to expose the sweaty pit. The strong musky scent permeated his nostrils in a way that made Kent’s new cock jump. “Soooo fuckin smelly!” He finished.

“Get over here! Fuckin smell it!” He shouted at Warren. “I know you want to, you little bitch! Smell your former scent!”

Before Warren even had a chance to respond, Kent grabbed the back of his head and stuffed it into the sweaty armpit. Warren didn’t have a choice. He did as the body snatcher told and took an unwilling sniff of the pits he used to own. And it was… heavenly!

“There you go…” Kent smirked.

Warren couldn’t explain why but he quickly found himself digging his nose deeper into the pit. Greedily snorting up the musky aroma he used to exude. The manly scent was so addictive and overpowering. So much so that he found his new tiny dick starting to leak precum…

Seeing this, Kent pulled Warren out of his armpit with a triumphant look. “See? This isn’t so bad is it? Now you finally get a chance to worship the body you put so much hard work into creating.” He stepped backwards a little before sitting himself back down on the bed. “All this huge hairy muscle. Just waiting to be touched and admired by you.”

Warren didn’t need to answer. The look on his face said it all. As much as he still wanted to be angry right now, he couldn’t help being turned on like hell.

“B-but if I do everything you ask then… will you give my body back?”

Kent laid back on the bed, sprawling out his mass and loving how much area his new body took up. “Hell no!” He cackled. “Now I know what it feels like to be huge and hairy, I plan on keeping this daddy bear body of yours for a good few years minimum! And when I eventually do leap again there’s no way in hell I’m going back to a body like that. When the day comes I’ll be jumping into another hot daddy! And another one after that!” Kent watched as the realisation of the situation hit Warren like a ton of bricks. “Sorry my man. I can’t thank you enough for the body but you’re never getting it back. You’re just gonna have to get used to being a skinny ass twink.”

Warren couldn’t believe it. In just a moment his body had been stolen from him like it was nothing. And now, assuming he stuck around, he’d have to watch this imposter use his former body however he saw fit. And once he got bored of it, Kent would just leap again. Inevitably leaving some other random man stuck in his body and parading it around instead. “But-” Warren began but he was sharply cut off.

“But nothing! I’m Warren Knox now!” Kent’s voice rumbled through the house, shortly followed by him kicking off his underwear and freeing his fat new cock at last. “Now get on this bed and worship your huge fuckin daddy.” He added, his voice much calmer this time as he grinned stupidly while giving his enormous biceps another flex to entice the red faced twink.

“Yes sir…” Warren submitted, knowing there was no other option for him. Conceding at last to crawling onto the bed and on top of his former body. Now getting a true scope for just how massive it looked from inside the skinny twink body he now found himself in.

“Gooooood.” Kent grumbled as Warren began to rub and worship his biceps like the good little bitch he was now. “Once you’re done worshiping my muscles and licking daddy’s pits clean, I might let you take a ride on this cock. IF you’re lucky. You’d like that wouldn’t you. Getting your hole stretched by the cock you used to call your own. Getting filled with your own load. my load.” He mocked.

Warren could hardly even answer. He knew he should be fighting against this. Trying to force a solution out of this body snatcher. To find any possible way he could to take his body back. And yet he only found himself able to nod in agreement to what Kent was saying.

“I knew you would, boy.” Kent growled as he grabbed Warren’s head again but this time he squished the smaller man’s face between the thick hairy muscle pillows he now called pecs instead. Smothering him with how huge they were. “I’m gonna drain these fat balls into your ass every single night.” He whispered. “Until I leap into another daddy of course. After that you’ll have to beg whoever ends up in this body next to keep filling you.” Kent chuckled, already envisioning all the perverted fun he was gonna have in this body and every new muscle daddy form to come after.

[axeeglitter]

It’s such a shame you don’t have a whole part for dumb&jocked! He left tumblr I think and I can’t find his stories anywhere

EDIT: You can find all stories on this blog @dumb-and-jocked-archive

— — — — —

You can find most of the stories on this site. As for the missing parts, you may find them on my blog.

[axeeglitter]

I'm back in college this week and my roommate is going to be a guy who is notoriously a dumb jock who is always skipping class to get laid or get high, I don't know how I'll get through this year with him

You were dreading returning to campus. Dreading the start of a new year. Dreading him. Seth. You and your friends had agreed to enter the roommate lottery system rather than risk your friendships. After all, good friends don't necessarily make good roommates. But when you saw who you would be rooming with... well, you weren't all too happy. And everyone knew. You sent texts to all your friends- even brought it up when you were talking with them over the phone.

"This year is going to suck."

"You think the rumors are true?"

"I heard he never showers, even after working out. Guy stinks."

"I heard he skips classes just to work-out. Probably why he's nearly failed all his classes."

"His previous roommate basically lived in the library to avoid him. I heard he was having sex every night and kicking his roommate out."

"His room always smelled like weed. I'm surprised they didn't expel him."

Your friends were willing to support you- listen to you. But as the first day of classes approached, it was getting clear they were tired of listening to all your complaining. After all, it seemed to be all you focused on. No conversation could go by without you bringing it up. Truthfully, it was kind of sad. So consumed with the idea of him being your roommate that you never gave him a chance.

"Hey bro, thought we should talk about our room."

You sighed when you saw the message from Seth. From him. Surprisingly mature, you had thought. You didn't think he'd be able to plan ahead like that. And so you two conversed. Divvying up who brought what to your soon to be shared living space. And just when you thought the conversation was over...

"Just wanna clear the air, I heard you've been talkin' shit about me."

You pause, rereading the message over and over again, "Don't know where you heard that from." You replied.

"At least be man enough to admit it." He replied, "Look, being me ain't no picnic. Don't need someone spreading shitty rumors too."

"I didn't say anything, sorry you think that." You figured his dumbass would leave it at that.

"I see." He replied, "If that's how you want this to be, fine. See you soon, bro."

You scoffed, "Being me ain't no picnic." You mocked, "Dumbass."

And then you arrived on campus. Finally had the chance to meet your new roommate. Seth first-bumped you upon your arrival, greeted you with a smile even. But all you could focus on was his body odor, the dull look in his eyes, the faint smell of weed on his clothes, and his muscular physique from all the time spent at the gym. Rumors? More like reality. But you wouldn't say that to him. Just keep the peace and get through this year.

It was 2AM when you realized the first challenge of living with Seth. The sound of rapid-fire gunshots and explosions fills the small dorm room as Seth hunches over his gaming setup. You toss and turn under your covers. But it's useless - Seth's late-night gaming binge is ensuring you remain wide awake and increasingly irritated. Morning comes far too soon, and you groggily silence your alarm before flopping back onto your pillow. Sleep feels too good to give up right now. Surely one missed class won't hurt…

But the pattern continues. Another missed morning class, then another. And you can't help but notice that Seth is going to bed earlier, playing less videogames, and even attending all of his classes. Yet despite the positive changes in Seth's behavior, you found yourself continuing to skip both your morning and afternoon classes. When a concerned friend called to check in, you brushed it off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just really tired lately. That Seth guy kept me up for weeks with his stupid games. Now my sleep schedule is all messed up."

Yet something about that seemed... wrong. You didn't really believe your words, did you? The next day, you woke up at 1PM as was becoming routine. No point in going to classes, right? No. Instead, you felt a different urge. With your classes falling by the wayside, you found yourself at a loss for how to spend your newly freed-up time. On a whim, you decided to hit the campus gym. As you walked in, you spotted Seth there, but something seemed different. He wasn't dominating a weight machine or running on a treadmill for hours on end like the rumors suggested. Instead, he was doing a quick, efficient workout before heading to the showers.

As you went through your own intense workout, you couldn't help but feel invigorated. Your muscles burned in that satisfying way, your heart raced, adrenaline pumping through your veins. It felt...good. Really good. Better than you ever remembered feeling after a workout before. As the days passed, you swore you could see changes in your physique - definition emerging where there had been none before, strength growing in your limbs with each rep. It was exhilarating... almost addictive. Soon, trips to the gym became your primary focus, your absences from class stretching longer and longer as you chased this new high. In the back of your mind, you wondered vaguely if the speed of your gains made sense. But it was easy to dismiss such thoughts. After all, you looked great walking around campus in your new tank-top. When one of your friends made a comment to you about how much time you were spending in the gym, you brushed it off.

"Livin' with Seth sucks, bro. Gotta hide out in the gym, ya know?"

One day, as you were admiring your rapidly developing physique back in your dorm room, Seth approached you. He looked different somehow - less rough around the edges, more put-together.

"Hey man," Seth said, sounding friendly but with an underlying tension. "I think we should talk about our room." He hesitated. "It's a bit messy."

As you followed Seth's gaze, a sinking realization dawned on you. Your side of the room was indeed a disaster zone - clothes strewn everywhere, empty protein shake bottles piled up, posters peeling off the walls. How had you let it get this bad?

"This isn't…" you mumbled, struggling to form a coherent thought as you took in the mess. Something felt off, like you were seeing it through a haze. Your usually sharp mind seemed dulled, sluggish. The changes in your body, the skipped classes, the obsession with the gym…

"Not a big deal." Seth smiled, "Just wanted to bring it to your attention."

Days turned into weeks, and despite your initial shock at the state of your room, you found yourself unable to muster the motivation to clean it up properly. In a moment of frustration and seeking escape, you stumbled upon Seth's old stash of weed hidden in his closet. Seth hadn't used it in forever, so you figured it wouldn't be a big deal to borrow some. The smoke filled your lungs, a strange calm washing over you. Maybe this was what you needed to take the edge off, to cope with the stress of your declining grades and the constant mess surrounding you. The habit quickly grew, a few hits here and there becoming a daily occurrence. The smell of weed clung to your clothes, mixing with the scent of sweat from your frequent gym sessions. And as you walked across campus, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of whispered conversations:

"…seen him lately? He looks different, man."

"…heard he's been skipping all his classes, just goes to the gym non-stop."

"…weed smell? Yeah, it's coming from his direction. Thought Seth was the pothead, but…"

"…those gains though! Bro must be juicing or something."

"…ever shower? Or wash his clothes?"

Frowning at the whispers, you ducked into your dorm room, locking the door behind you. With a heavy sigh, you approached the full-length mirror hanging on the back of your closet door. As you gazed at your reflection, your eyes widened in shock. The person staring back at you was unmistakably you, yet...not quite. Your muscles bulged, veins popping out along your arms and chest. A sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, and dark circles rimmed your bloodshot eyes. Your hair was greasy, messy, and unkempt. And the smell...when did you last shower? Days ago? Weeks? The stench of stale sweat and marijuana clung to you.

Panic rising in your throat, you spun away from the mirror, your mind reeling. This couldn't be happening. You weren't this person - the lazy, stoned gym rat skipping classes and letting himself go. Something had to have caused this drastic change. Your thoughts turned to Seth. He had changed so much recently - getting his act together, being responsible. Meanwhile, you had spiraled downwards. It couldn't be a coincidence. Seth must have done something to you, some kind of sick prank or twisted experiment gone wrong. Rage and fear battled inside you as you paced the room, trying to piece it together. But your once sharp mind was slow and sluggish.

The knock at the door jolted you from your spiraling thoughts. Irritated, you yanked it open, ready to snap at whoever dared to disturb you. But the words died on your tongue as you saw the cute twink from down the hall standing there, his eyes widening as they raked over your shirtless, muscular form. You suddenly became acutely aware of the tent forming in your gym shorts.

"Uh, hey man," the twink stammered, averting his gaze but sneaking another peek at your chiseled abs. "Sorry to bother you, but, um, your music is pretty loud. Could you maybe turn it down a bit?"

You grinned as you leaned against the doorframe, flexing subtly. The twink's pupils dilated with lust.

"My bad, bro. Guess I got carried away, huh?" You drawled, voice low and rough. An idea struck you and you jerked your head towards the interior of the room. "Why don't you come inside for a minute? We can discuss it more…privately." You adjusted the tent in your shorts.

The twink hesitated only briefly before nodding eagerly, stepping past you into the room, hand tracing along your chest as he walked by. As you closed the door, you quickly pulled out your phone, firing off a text to Seth.

"Need the room for a bit, bro. Got company, don't come back till I say so." You set the phone aside, turning to face the horny twink.

Days blurred together in a haze of weights, weed, and constant sex. Your grades plummeted, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. This was living, right? Being desired, indulging every urge. One afternoon, as you lounged on your bed in nothing but a pair of loose basketball shorts, Seth entered the room.

"Yo, we need to talk," you slurred, eyes bloodshot from an earlier smoking session. You fixed Seth with a glare, anger simmering beneath the surface. "Those rumors about me…did you spread 'em? Trying to make me look bad?"

Seth's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed defensively. "Whoa, hold up. I didn't spread any rumors about you, man. Where'd you even get that idea?" He crossed his skinnier arms, looking genuinely offended.

"Ah, sure." You grunt, "Just know, being me ain't no picnic."

So maybe now you understand. Maybe now you can appreciate being the undesirable roommate, the loser, the stoned gym rat that people whisper about behind their back. And Seth? Seth has a bright future ahead of him. Disciplined, studious, well-liked- really turned it around, eh? Now what was it you said?

"I don't know how I'll get through this year with him"

Don't worry, bro. You are him. Now and forever.

[axeeglitter]

Only the trees knows the trueth

“At the end of the cycle, everything must die for new opportunities to rise”

The forest at dusk was a cathedral of stillness. Pines rose like blackened pillars against the fading light, their crowns whispering in a language only the old knew. In the hollow of that silence sat a man whose age no longer had meaning, a warlock wrapped in rough robes that smelled faintly of resin and old smoke. A circle of stones glimmered faintly where he had etched runes into the moss, their edges bruised with the blood of his thumb. He had come here to rest, to let his bones soak in quietude, and to weave an incantation that needed only silence and solitude to take root.

The lake beside him mirrored the sky, streaked with the red of the dying sun. The man exhaled. His lips shaped words not spoken in centuries, syllables so slow and sonorous they seemed to hang in the air like smoke.

And then came the bass. A synthetic thumping, obscene in its brightness, slammed through the trees. Laughter followed, sharp and braying, crashing like cymbals against the hush of the forest. The warlock’s eyes, black pits under a ridge of bone, narrowed and soon filled with a rage as old as life itself.

Across the clearing, a group of six young men erupted from the brush like a pack of noisy dogs. They carried coolers, beer cans already cracking open with froth spilling down their hands. Their clothes were loud: neon tanks, backwards caps, shorts cut too high. They stank of musk, cheap cologne, sweat and arrogance.

“Hell yeah, boys!” shouted one, tall and broad-shouldered, his chest already gleaming with spilled beer. He slapped his can against another’s, foam bursting down his bicep. “Lake party, bitches!”

They clustered by the shore, their Bluetooth speaker barking out distorted basslines.

The old man’s knotted fingers twitched once, resisting the urge to clench. He inhaled deeply, ancient lungs rattling with patience. He rose from his circle and stepped toward them, staff tapping against stone. His tall and stoic presence should have been enough. His outline shimmering faintly as if the very air feared to touch him.

The loudest one of the six noticed him and grinned cockily, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth sparkling in the sun. Josh was the Alpha, the chief of his group of friends. He was the kind of man who had never been told “no” with consequences; the kind of man that would do everything he wanted because his beauty and confidence would turn every situation to his advantage; the kind of man everybody loved to hate and hated to love. His sunburnt skin stretched tight over his sculpted muscle; his hair trimmed into a swaggering fade. His gaze lingered on the old man with a mixture of mockery and dominance.

“Yo, Gandalf!” he called, gesturing with his can. “You’re killin’ our vibe, bro. Go haunt another part of the lake fucker!”

Laughter erupted from the others circling around him as they kept on grabbing the cooler from the truck and getting the camp ready for the party. One of them though, shorter, broad-nosed, with soft and kind eyes, shifted uncomfortably. He looked at the Josh, then back at the old man, and then turned back to his big brother, murmuring, “C’mon, man, he was here first. We could maybe go somewhere else. The lake is huge and we haven’t even started to put the camp toge…”

“Shut up, Caleb,” Josh snapped. “You’re only here ‘cause Mom begged me not to leave your loser ass alone at home. Just drink your beer and try not to embarrass yourself.”

Caleb fell silent, eyes lowered back on the case as he turned one more time his head towards the old man before resuming his walk.

The warlock straightened himself and blinked one time, slowly and controlled as a spark of blue electricity exploded in his pupil. “You desecrate stillness. You stain the air with your braying. Leave this place, lest silence itself rise to claim you.”

Josh tilted his head back and laughed, showing his throat in mock surrender. “Ooooh, scary! What, you gonna do? Call the cops? Hex me? I’m banging the sheriff’s daughter; Good luck with that!!” he said mockingly as he turned his head back to his friend, laughing all together while Caleb was in the back putting down the crate he was holding. Josh then turned back towards the old man and gulped from his warm beer can.  “Dude, you couldn’t even get it up if you tried.” He grabbed his crotch, squeezing lewdly, eyes flashing with cruel humor. “See this? This is all a real man needs to rule the world. Now go die somewhere in the woods and get lost!.”

The others roared with laughter, slapping their thighs, spitting beer as Josh turned back to them, jumping form his jeep’s trunk on the ground. Caleb turned away, shame flickering across his face.

The man studied the young cocky dude for a long, heavy moment. The silence between his words stretched until it seemed the forest itself leaned closer to hear. Josh felt a sudden rush of wind and he heard his name being murmured along the floating leaves. He turned back, his usual cocky smirk still plastered on his manly face and ready to see the old creepy man walking away but instead he was face to face with him. Instead of 20 plus meters, the man was now at arm distance from Josh. Josh and his friends stood there, not understanding how this was possible for such an old man to walk this fast without any sounds. Josh froze in surprise and his sight fell on the men’s dark eyes only to see a spark of purple electricity in them fainting into the darkness of his bottomless pupils. “Back off you creepy old bastard before I make you!” said Josh hungrily not understanding what he just saw what he just saw. Caleb saw everything starting to take an odd and dangerous posture. He didn’t want his brother or his friends to get in a dangerous situation. He went back next to his brother and the old man and tried to stop all of this. “Listen, we are sorry. We promise not to do too much noise and even to clean the space after when we leave tomorrow, ok? It’s just Spring Break and I guess everybody is a little bit tired, right? What about this, we give you… this.” He said grabbing a pack of 6 “and we all forget about this little incident. Ok?” He concluded hoping his intervention would prevent this situation to end up in the newspaper. He sure knew his brother and his fighting personality. “You are unlike them,” the old voice rasped. “Your spirit bends rather than bludgeons. Yet you tether yourself to their cruelty. Why?”

Caleb stammered, “He’s… he’s my brother. They’re his friends. If I don’t come along, they…” He stopped, throat tightening.

The warlock’s eyes glowed faintly; pits of starlight buried in shadow. “Then your kindness shall be their prison. If you shield them, you will bear them. Their sins shall be grafted into your flesh.” He finished before turning back to Josh. “You mock manhood. You make of it a weapon and a joke. Then let it be thy prison.”

Josh blinked, thrown off by the cadence. “What the fuck does that even mean you senile mor…”

The old man raised his staff and spoke three syllables as old as times. The sound cracked like ice breaking on a lake.

Josh barked a laugh. “You are fucking mad bro’ …” He slapped his thigh, then grabbed his crotch again, shaking it toward the man. “Come on, bitch, you playing with your staff and shit but we both know you can’t even get your own hard. For information, this is the only staff that matters!”

The men turned slowly to face Josh straight in his eyes and said calmly as a new spark of red crimson electricity exploded in his pupils. “So be it.”

The staff struck the earth once, and the air bent. “You think you are scary? Go die alone or something moron… Wow… What is happening?!” Josh said as the air around him seemed to warp and change. The humidity levels rise and he felt kind of nauseous all of a sudden. “Yo dude, you good?” said his best friend Ethan as he got closer to Josh to make sure he was alright. Caleb stood there, not understand how the situation climbed so bad and in such a short period of time.

Josh then felt like a bucket of boiling water was poured directly in his veins as suddenly he was taken wy a heat wave. It felt like his muscles and skin were on fire and he felt his pores starting to open to let more sweat flow out of his system. “Yo bro, I must have… eaten something that doesn’t go through.” Josh continued as he was now bent on himself, his hands on his knees and his head tilted between his arms trying to find his breath back. Suddenly, he felt a force starting to build up deep inside him. It was like something was about to explode. His breath was getting shorter and shorter and suddenly, as his perfectly aligned teeth was grinding each other and his cocky face spasming in pain, his eyes opened as he felt the force pop in immense pain. His chest expanded as if gripped by invisible hands, ribs cracking with sharp pops. He staggered, clutching at himself, the beer can flying from his grip onto the mossy ground. His bellow broke into a strangled gurgle.

“Josh?” Caleb gasped, stepping forward, but froze as the warlock raised a hand.

“Meus es. Corpus tuum marmor est et voluntas tua mea est,” the warlock intoned, voice reverberating with syllables older than the trees. “See how arrogance returns to its root.” Suddenly Caleb’s body froze mid step. He couldn’t move anymore and his head turned towards his brother’s agonizing change in front of him. He tried to talk, to turn his head away, to go and help him, but his body didn’t listen to him anymore.

Josh’s flesh was collapsing in on itself, his shoulders melting like wax in a forge. His arms slithered into his torso, veins writhing under the skin as they re-threaded into thick, pulsating cords. His voice rose into a high, animal squeal as his neck shortened, face swelling, lips ballooning outward until they fused into a swollen, glistening ridge.

Caleb gagged, clutching at his own stomach, as heat flared through his groin. He felt something pushing, as though a foreign weight were burrowing up inside him. His shorts tented violently forward, throbbing in rhythm with each of his brother’s gutturals screams.

“Oh god, what are you doing? Stop this please. We are sorry!” Caleb shouted, staggering.

“Too late for that,” the old man said calmly, “He disrespected peace, silence, and natures laws. He mocked me, he mocked virility, assuming that everything in life is about his penis. So let him become it. You, you tried to stop it and I see that you have a pure soul. You just lack of everything else. You wanted to protect him, now be his shield.”

Josh’s thighs fused, calves shriveling, feet withering into nubs. His whole lower half compressed into a trunk of veined flesh that spasmed and pulsed. With a wet tearing sound, all that was left of Josh started to compress on itself and in a last agonizing scream he popped out of existence, in his place, only a leaf fell slowly on the ground before dying on the beer wet mossy ground. Suddenly, Caleb felt a rush of sensation invading his body. He felt a rush of stamina and horniness climbing along his legs and merging at the base of his small circumcised cock. Caleb felt drops of sweat starting to pour from his forehead as an uncontrollable erection started to rise against his hairy leg. With each and every spam, he felt it grow longer and harder going from 4 inches hard to a huge 9 inches now. He wanted to scream from pure bliss as he felt all the hormones flowing freely directly form his new improved balls. He tried to talk, to ask what just happened but his vocal cords were only answering to the moans his lungs were expulsing from his body.

“What is happening… to me?!” finally exhaled Caleb between moans as his shorts suddenly ripped in half, letting his hard leaking cock jutting free straight in front of his frozen body. “I already told you,” Answered the old man, visibly amused by the situation and happy with the results “your bother had the attitude of a dick, so I repurposed him.”

Caleb doubled over, finally understanding what just happened. “Josh… oh god, I can feel him…he’s…he’s inside me!” he screamed I panic as Josh kept on spasming from fear and pure overflow of sensations, his precum now leaking in his brother’s underwear as fast as he used to talk back to people.

One more spasm and Josh broke free from Caleb’s underwear and slapped against Caleb’s stomach, leaving a smear of slickness. He gasped, shuddering, the alien weight dragging at his body. His brother’s muffled bellow reverberated through him, echoing as a hot, throbbing pulse.

The old man watched; expression serene. “Thus, the boy is undone. His pride of flesh, his scorn of manhood, all shall throb forever as a mockery of what he worshipped.”

Caleb staggered, panting, his eyes wet with tears of realization as he continued to feel his new cock pulsing and leaking with every heartbeat. He could feel the drops of precum leaking along his new sensitive length and starting to run down his new hairy nut sack. “Please…undo this! I’m sorry. I mean, he is sorry. We didn’t want to bother you. Just let us go. Please.”

The old man’s gaze was pitiless. “You are innocent, yes. But innocence does not absolve. It binds. You shall be vessel and gaoler.”

Josh twitched again, spraying a spurt of pearly fluid onto the moss, a wet groan muffled within it. The fratboys stumbled backward, faces pale at the realization of what just happened to their best friend.

“Holy shit,” one whispered. “He… he turned him into Caleb’s dick… How is that even possible?!”

The old man raised his staff once more. “And the rest of you shall follow.” “What?!” said Ethan and Tyler as the same time understanding too late that they were next. “We didn’t mock you. Please.” Said Ethan “I’m sorry,” said Tyler “Please let me go” he continued never asking for his friend’s salute as well. The staff hit the ground in a cosmic rush of ancient magic, projecting spark of red electricity in the air and dead leaves floating with the wind.

Caleb’s breath tore raggedly from his throat as his brother’s weight still pulsed between his legs.

The old man raised his staff over him as Caleb continued to beg for their freedoms but the man didn’t care anymore what he had to say, instead, he started murmuring syllables that spread like chains through Caleb’s limbs. Caleb’s muscles seized, then slackened. His arms dropped uselessly at his sides; his legs locked straight. Only his eyes moved now, wide and wet, forced to watch the terrifying scene happening in front of him.

“You will stand, vessel,” the old man intoned, his voice a tolling bell. “And you will bear.”

Caleb whimpered, but no sound escaped. His jaw was locked tight, his tongue thick and still. His body was a puppet waiting for someone to order him around.

The man’s eyes glowed like molten iron as he turned back around to face Tyler and Ethan. “Mockers. Hyenas. You will rot where you jeered.”

Both boys stood there, frozen in fear and surprise as out of nowhere, what felt like invisible ropes appeared around their bodies. They screamed as the invisible cords lashed around their chests, yanking them upward in the air a few feet off the ground. Their ribs cracked outward with sickening pops.

“AHHHH! My chest…it’s breaking! Oh god, oh god! I can’t take much more of this!!” Tyler shrieked as tears started to swell up the corner of his eyes.

Caleb’s shoulders flared with fire. He tried to scream, but his lips would not part. The heat tunneled into his armpits, a crawling, burrowing invasion beneath the skin.

Both of them convulsed as their bodies folded on themselves, forced by the tightening and bonding cords around their bodies. Their spines snapped like reeds, torsos bending until their heads slammed against their ribs. Their arms melted backward, drawn into their sockets like wax sucked by a flame. Their legs shriveled, blackening, then crumbled into dust at their waists.

“Please, PLEASE! I’ll stop! We’ll stop! Don’t do this…don’t …” Ethan screamed in pure fear as he his body finished to turn to dust gathered around by the wind.

“ETHAN NO!” Tyler screamed in pure panic as he saw his best friend get dusted before his very own eyes “Please, don’t do this to me! Oh god HELP!!! Don’t, No FUCK, NOOOOOooooo….” Tyler finished as his body finished to disappear just like the one before him.

The man ignored them and turned back to Caleb. With one swift movement of his hands, Caleb felt both his arms rise up until he was double flexing and showing his hairless armpits. “Into him you go, as laughter into lungs. Let his body sweat your shame.”

With a wrenching tug, the remains of the both of them started to levitate from the ground and in an instant were pulled toward Caleb’s waiting armpits.

Caleb’s eyes widened as he felt the rush of dust starting to press against both his armpits. It felt like millions of ants were biting at his skin and tearing it apart. Then, he felt the pressure stop and the wall of his skin let the intruder in his system as he felt the rush of something foreign inside his body. It felt like someone just injected him a huge needle full of water under both of his pits. “What was that” Caleb asked mentally as his eyes were moving left and right trying to see what was happening under his flexed biceps. A sick sliding sensation crawled under his skin, like two live animals burrowing into him. His armpits swelled grotesquely, slick with sudden sweat. He smelled himself, sharp, pungent, muskier than ever before. “What the fuck is that?!” he mentally screamed once more as the rush of musk reached and imprinted him directly inside his skull.

The frat boys ‘screams echoed in the air through the wind circling around Caleb’s frozen body.

With a final wet pop, the bulges under his arms smoothed. Caleb’s pits relaxed into perfect, ordinary hollows, lined with coarse hair, slick with sweat. Nothing unusual at all for a young man, except his pits were now the prison of Tyler and Ethan, forever bonded to the man’s pits as his armpit hairs and musky scent. Both of their souls thrashed against the prison of his flesh, trapped as sweat glands, nerve endings, follicles. Their consciousness seeped into the musk dripping down Caleb’s sides.

The warlock smiled faintly. “Their behavior reeked insubordination and disrespect. Now they will know what true stench is.”

Caleb shook where he stood, silent tears streaking his cheeks along his frozen emotionless face.

“Dude I’m out of here!” said Michael to Connor as they both started to run to the pickup.

They both turned to bolt, but the old man’s staff cracked against the ground. The forest itself seemed to seize them mid-stride, lifting them by invisible hooks. Both of their bodies started to levitate a few centimeters above the ground as they kept trying to run even though they were not moving anymore.

“Cowardice,” the man said simply. “You wanted to leave your friends there? It seemed like you were both pretty supportive a couple of minutes before. Since you were so supportive and like to run, let’s make you both his foundation.”

The boys screamed, limbs flailing. Their bodies stiffened unnaturally, spine snapping taut. A Line carved down the center of their bodies in symmetrical shape, then another one, and two others ones. Both their bodies looked like they were split in 5 tubular shapes shrinking smaller and smaller. Then their face started to move inside the biggest one of the shapes, their head merging with the mass of flesh until their head became the shape.

“OH GOD, IT HURTS! HELP ME! HELP!” screamed Michael in a last hope of freedom as he felt his limbs starting to move on top of his shapeless body. Connor on the other end tried to scream but it seemed like his vocal cords had already been ripped from his throat, leaving him soundless and screaming in silence. With another hit of his staff, both their shapeless new forms started to shrink and solidify into what looked like a pair of feet. Then with one last hit, both their new forms took shape as a manly pair of feet floating above the ground before they imploded, leaving behind them a couple of twigs and berries falling on the ground.

Caleb’s ankles burned. He felt his bones liquefy, tendons twitching like wires. His sneakers split open with sharp tears as he felt the heat rising higher and higher in his body. He understood immediately what that meant as he tried to scream for help but just as before, he was powerless and frozen.

Both of Connor and Michael’s screams became garbled, bubbling into silence as their soul sank deep withing their new prison, never to be seen again but always sentient and feeling the pressur of the body they both support now. Caleb’s feet warped, reshaping subtly, arches firming, toes flexing, skin smoothing. Within moments they looked like any man’s feet: broad, callused, veined, twitching gently in the grass while the remains of his shoes disappeared swallowed by the moss.

Caleb felt the weight of this new addition. Every nerve sang with a second awareness. Each toe carried the sneaky boy’s memory of running, each arch his fear, each step a soul screaming with no mouth to scream never to be heard again.

The old man’s voice fell like a hammer. “They fled. Now they are your tread. Every pace you take shall grind them into earth. Maybe after a couple of miles, they’ll finally know to support their friends and to learn the consequences of their own actions.”

Caleb’s chest heaved. His body looked totally normal to anybody, but completely foreign to him: two hairy, sweating pits; two solid, strong feet; a cock jutting stiff between his legs and constantly leaking precum and spasming against his now hairy pubes. Everything looked normal. Nobody would have known that were a pretty normal young man stands, they were 6 of them a couple of minutes ago.

But inside Caleb, their souls writhed. Trapped in their new prison of flesh, silent, aware of everything that happened to them and forced to act like their new forced functions.

The old man lifted his staff higher, eyes never leaving Caleb. “Quinque eras, nunc unus es. Tam prope et tamen tam longe. Mea voluntate, nunc unus eris..” Caleb’s body shivered in anxiety as he felt all his new body parts do the same in fear of what could happen now that Caleb was left alone to the man’s mercy.

Out of nowhere, Caleb’s body shuddered with a thousand torments at once. He was still bound in his own skin, frozen by the spell, forced to watch as his brother and friends throbbed inside him. His pits reeked, his cock pulsed, his feet itched, and all of them were now feeling a new change being forced on them. It felt like they were getting drained of their life force. Like there were drained of who they were. Caleb on the other hand started to feel his muscle spam without his consent. His calves grew a little bit longer and bigger, his pubes grew denser and curlier. His face grew turned sharper while his biceps grew bigger. His lungs were burning and drops of sweat were forming all around his body. The more it went, the less he felt like himself, and as the last change happened to his hardening glutes, he felt like a stranger in his own body. His thick cock spasming against his slightly hairy abs while his pecs and biceps framed his now perfectly dense armpits and his hairy legs finished by his now size 16 manly feet. Caleb wanted to cry, but even that he couldn’t anymore without the man’s accord.

Caleb tried to scream, but his lips would not move, still bonded under the man’s curse. His body was clay awaiting command.

The old man circled him, fingers tracing across his tense chest. “So much power in flesh. So much youth squandered on cruelty. Now gathered, refined, housed in one vessel. But flesh decays. Stone endures. And what endures, I keep.”

Without even touching it this time, the man snapped his fingers and the staff slammed into the earth again right in front of Caleb’s opened eyes.

Caleb convulsed as his skin hardened. Not into a statue like he’d feared would happen, but into something stranger. His body shrank, compressed, compacted, every bone grinding inward with the sound of granite under a hammer. His screams were muffled, strangled by the collapse of his throat, but his mind felt everything.

His ribs crushed inward, spine coiling like rope, until his torso was no bigger than a forearm. His arms folded into his chest, his legs pressed tight, his cock stiffening and then shrinking into unyielding stone. Each part that had once been fused with his brothers condensed, perfected, sculpted. His face locked in a silent cry, but even that expression softened, smoothed into an artisan’s rendering. His body kept on proportionate shape but just shrank smaller and smaller until everything around him felt gigantic.

Caleb was no longer a man; he was now a stone figurine carved in a one single block of rock.

The warlock reached down and plucked him from the dirt with one hand. Caleb could see from within his prison, the gnarled fingers gripping his body, the forest suddenly vast around him. He was no taller than a chalice, no heavier than a stone idol carried in procession. Yet inside he still burned: his soul, and the five souls sealed in his body, writhing against walls of rock that they won’t be able to escape. Caleb waned to scream why, wanted to ask why. He didn’t do anything and he even tried to take the man’s defense, why would he do this to him after everything he did.

The old man lifted him to his eyes and smiled for the first time since the beginning. It froze Caleb’s blood, if he still had any pumping in his rock body. It looked like the man would read Caleb’s mind. “Oh, but I can. I bonded your soul and body to my will, so now you belong to me and I have full visibility on you and your thoughts. You did try to take my defense, and that’s why you are not suffering in rock prison carved into a hard dick begging to cum but frozen for ever on the edge of orgasm, a pair of feet supporting the weight of your rock body on their small surface, or hairy and sweaty armpits now drowning into their own sweat because their pores are blocked by rocks. You are here because I took pity on you, and now you are mine. Perfect. Portable. But most importantly, mine. Now I am not a monster. You won’t suffer eternal envy. No don’t worry, you will forget everything, for you it’ll feel like everything is natural and you’ve always been like that. You will also lose the connection to your trapped parts and you’ll love the feeling of their phantoms spasmed in your rock body. Say good bye, vessel…”

He held Caleb close to his lips and whispered words older than language. White smoke poured from Caleb’s mouth, seeping out of his open eyes and mouth. Caleb’s body jolted with searing heat. It felt like he was slowly losing his grip on reality as he was forgetting events that happened earlier like his birthday, the name of his parents, his brother, his graduation. Everything that made him flashed in front of his stoned eyes before vanishing in light flashes, swallowed by the old man in front of him. The last thing he saw before forgetting who he was was the man’s familiar smile now looking back at him.

The warlock exhaled, and his form rippled. His sagging skin tightened. His bent spine straightened. His hair darkened to chestnut. The wrinkles melted from his brow.

He was becoming young again.

But not merely young. Caleb’s vision blurred as the transformation sharpened. The man’s face smoothed into strong lines, his shoulders broadened, his chest firmed with the same youthful muscle that Caleb had known all his life His jaw squared, his skin glowed, his very scent shifted, musk and vigor, the scent of a frat boy in his prime.

The old man now looked exactly like Caleb used to look, except for a more self-confident one, never doubting himself and never looking back.

The new Caleb held the figurine, what was left of Caleb and the souls of the five frat boys, in his palm, smirking with his new younger lips. “As I always say my dear vessel, At the end of the cycle, everything must die for new opportunities to rise.” He said as he put the true Caleb inside his pocket and walking away from the now forgotten camp site, crushing a couple of berries, twigs and leaves along the way, all that remained of the boys bodies. In his head, the real Caleb wasn’t here anymore. His soul and memories completely consumed and repurposed to the old man’s advantage. He now didn’t remember anything anymore, forever tingled by the cloth surrounding him and the hormones parkouring his rock body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hello everybody! Here is my story written for the August story swap created by Mutabear. This prompt was requested by GiantPeter and I had a blast writing it. I hope you enjoy it because it's quiet different from what i'm used to do. Let me know what you think and as always feel free to send me any ides you have in dm and I'll do my best to answer them. Saa you real soon for the Halloween Event!! something tells me Melorius might come back in a short month ;) Enjoy!!

[axeeglitter]

A straight dude and his friend both stumble upon a gay bar "accidentally", one turns into an absolutely submissive twink bottom and the other a dominant gay jock

Devin (left) knew there was something up with Jake (right). The two had been friends for years- played videogames together, played on the same baseball team, drank together, acted as each others' wingmen, went to bible camp together growing up- really just two bros living their best life. Yet Devin thought there was something off about Jake. He never had a girlfriend, never really seemed interested in the women at the bars they frequented, and Devin swore he'd catch Jake checking out a guy in the locker room after a work-out. Was his friend gay? Maybe that question had crossed his mind. Was there anything wrong with that? Not necessarily. Yet Devin had to admit it made him uncomfortable. He'd never say he was homophobic, but growing up down south and going to bible camp each summer certainly left their impact.

So when Jake and Devin went to hit the bars that night, he knew he shouldn't have been too surprised when Jake stumbled towards the only gay bar in town. Devin followed his tipsy friend closely, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Bro, you do know this is a..."

"I know." Jake replied, not even making eye contact with his friend, "I mean... they don't skimp on the alcohol here."

"You've been here before?"

"No!" The denial came a bit too fast, "Just uh... heard through the grapevine that this place is the shit."

So that's how Devin found himself sitting in a gay bar. Cautiously looking over his shoulder for guys he figured must be checking him out and wondering if this is how women felt. He looks over at Jake, who is clearly staring a little bit too obviously at the bartender.

"Jake, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He says a little too quickly.

"No seriously, what's up?" Devin can see Jake getting frustrated, turning away, tears prickling in his eyes.

"Drank too much." Jake replies taking a deep breath, turning towards his friend, "Look, I... I don't know how to say this but...I'm..."

And before he can get the words out, Devin feels a tap on his shoulder. And when he turns, he sees two guys looking at them. Concern etched on the shorter guys face, a devilish smile on the taller one's.

"We couldn't help but overhear your conversation." The taller one said, "My name is Paul by the way."

"I'm Leo." The shorter one said, voice quiet, "We don't mean to overstep but..."

"We know it can be difficult." Paul continued, "Hell, we were once in a similar place as you two. Confused, uncertain."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Devin raised an eyebrow, "We're just..."

"I was once as oblivious as you were. Unable to meet my partner's needs." Paul looked at Leo lovingly, "Really not in tune with Leo at all. And he wasn't in tune with me." He smirked and pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss, "But that all changed and now we've been together for years."

"Wait. Jake and I aren't..." Devin winced as Paul placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Let's talk. You and me." Paul smiled, "And Leo, why don't you talk to Jake for a bit."

As Paul led a protesting Devin away, Leo slid onto the barstool next to Jake, leaning in close. "Hey there, handsome. I know this was sudden, but we couldn't help but notice all the tension between you and your boyfriend."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise at being called 'handsome', a light blush dusting his cheeks. "Oh, um, thanks. And he's not really my-"

Leo waved a hand dismissively. "Paul and I were in the same boat. God, he was so dense, and I was so… well uptight." He smiled, "But that all changed and now we're so much more compatible."

"Wait… I think there's been a…"

_______

Paul guided Devin to a quieter corner of the bar, placing a firm hand on his lower back. "Now Devin, I can see the strain in your relationship with Jake. Believe me, I've been where you are."

"Hold up, I think you got this all wrong. We're not-" Devin started, but Paul cut him off smoothly.

"Every relationship needs its dynamics. The give and take, the push and pull." His eyes locked with Devin's intensely. "We can help you two find the proper roles." Devin opened his mouth to protest once more, but Paul pressed on, voice low and persuasive. "I know it seems like everything is falling apart now. The fights, the misunderstandings… But trust me, this is a crucial turning point."

______

Meanwhile, across the bar, Leo leaned in close to Jake, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "You know, Jake, every relationship needs clear roles. I didn't realize what I needed, and neither did Paul. When Paul and I first got together… we were lost. Fighting all the time, on the verge of breaking up." He sighed, "But then we met a couple who showed us what we were missing." Leo continued, "See, Paul needed to be a real man. The dominant one. A real top, you know? Muscular, confident, hairy - the whole package."

As he spoke, Jake began to shift uncomfortably on his barstool. Leo noticed and smiled encouragingly, noticing as his muscles began to swell slightly, definition becoming more pronounced beneath his shirt.

"A proper top, confident and strong. Hairy in all the right places." Leo's eyes roamed appreciatively over Jake's changing form. "That's the kind of man Devin needs you to be, Jake. Take control, assert yourself."

"No, wait, I don't think…" Jake protested weakly, even as dark hair sprouted along his forearms and trailed up his neck.

-------

Across the bar, Paul had Devin pinned with his intense gaze, voice low and hypnotic. "Distinct roles, Devin. That's the key to a successful relationship."

He placed a hand on Devin's hip, thumb rubbing slow circles. "When Leo and I first got together, we were both trying to be dominant. Fought constantly." Paul shook his head, "But then we realized - Leo was meant to submit. To be my perfect little bottom boy."

As he spoke, Devin felt strange tingles spreading across his skin. His jeans suddenly felt tighter around his ass and thighs. "No, I don't…" he protested weakly, even as his body began to change.

His muscles started to soften and deflate. Proud pecs, arms, and lats shrinking in on themselves, all while his hips widened subtly.

"And that's exactly what you're going to be for Jake. A bottom eager to please."

Devin opened his mouth to object, to insist he wasn't gay and definitely not Jake's boyfriend. But the words died on his tongue as unfamiliar submissive urges welled up inside him.

His voice came out small and timid, "But I'm not…we're not…"

Devin tried to summon some of his old fire, but felt helpless under Paul's dominant presence. Devin whimpered, overwhelmed by the foreign sensations and desires flooding his body and mind. He knew he should resist, should correct Paul's assumptions...but the urge to submit was rapidly overriding his better judgment.

--------

Meanwhile, Leo watched as Jake's body morphed before his very eyes. The changes were subtle at first - a ripple of muscle here, a sprinkle of hair there. But soon, Jake's physique had transformed dramatically.

His arms bulged with lean, sculpted muscle, dark hair thicker and coarser than before. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, creating a classic V-shape. Jake's chest heaved with each breath, now covered in a pelt of coarse hair.

Leo licked his lips, eyeing Jake like a prime piece of meat. "God, look at you," he purred, reaching out to trail a finger down Jake's newly furry pecs. "A real man. Dominant. Powerful."

Jake shuddered at Leo's touch, electricity seeming to crackle across his skin. His cock throbbed in his pants, achingly hard and straining against the denim. New thoughts flooded his mind - raw, primal urges he'd never experienced before.

Mine… Gonna fucking wreck Devin… Make him my bitch…

The words echoed in Jake's skull as his hands clenched into fists, muscles flexing involuntarily. His pupils were blown wide with lust, gaze zeroing in on Devin across the bar.

"Wait... no... I don't..." Jake's voice was rougher, dripping with lust. The world around him shifting, his perception of himself altering as he looked down at his hairy chest, proud muscles, and thick bulge.

"Shhhh..." Leo smiled, "You know what you are now."

A cocky smirk on his now bearded face. Jake stood abruptly, towering over Leo.

"Fuck yeah, this is who I am," Jake growled, voice dripping with newfound confidence and aggression. He grabbed his crotch roughly, palming his massive erection. "Can't wait to stuff this fat cock in my slut's tight little ass."

Leo grinned, "Mmm, I bet he'll look so pretty stretched around your huge dick."

Jake rumbled approvingly, drunk on power and newfound lust.

-------

Back in the corner, Paul loomed over Devin, his imposing presence overwhelming the smaller man. Devin squirmed as strange sensations washed over him, his body betraying him. Soft curves replaced hard angles as Devin's features gentled. Puffy lips, delicate cheekbones, wide innocent eyes - he looked like the perfect pretty boy ready to be used. Devin's protests grew weaker, his voice pitching higher.

"N-no, this isn't right…" Devin whimpered, even as his plump ass pushed out, straining against his jeans. He couldn't meet Paul's piercing gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "I'm n-not gay, and Jake is just my friend!" He bit his lip- it felt so wrong to be assertive, to voice his own opinion without being asked.

"Wait, what?" Paul raised an eyebrow.

"We're just bros! We're just..."

Before Devin could say more, powerful arms encircled his waist from behind. He yelped in shock as he was pulled flush against a hard, muscular body. Jake's newly deep voice rumbled in his ear, hot breath ghosting over his neck.

"Mmmm, look at this sexy little bottom bitch." Jake growled in Devin's ear, voice dripping with lust.

Devin gasped, shivering at the feel of Jake's hot breath and scratchy stubble. His own traitorous body molded against those powerful muscles. "Ja-Jake, w-what are you doing?" he squeaked.

"Gonna make you mine." Jake bit his earlobe, causing a moan to escape Devin's puffy lips.

He knew he should fight this, push Jake away and insist this was all a misunderstanding. But as Jake's large, calloused hands roamed his body possessively, Devin found his willpower crumbling. He arched into the touch- enjoyed it. The masculine scent of Jake - sweat, musk and pure, potent maleness - invaded his senses, short-circuiting his brain.

"Yes, s-so big and strong," Devin mewled breathlessly, hips rolling back shamelessly to grind against Jake's fat cock.

"Fuck yeah, gonna ruin this tight little ass," Jake snarled, gripping Devin's plush cheeks hard enough to bruise, "Come on, lets get home."

Paul and Leo watched as Jake led Devin out of the bar, drinking in the sight of their handiwork.

"Mmmm, they're perfect for each other," Leo purred, palming his own erection.

"Kind of..." Paul mused, thinking about Devin's words, "At least they'll be happy together."

"Babe, everything okay?"

Paul roughly grabbed Leo's ass, imagining what Jake was doing to Devin, "Maybe we should get home too..."

[axeeglitter]

Pit, Boy!

I had my stepbrother trained well. All you gotta do is command, "Pit, Boy!" with a snap of the finger, and he shows it off like a good obedient mutt! The best part is that mindless expression, not changing even when I sniff and lick his stinky pits clean! He'd be so fucking pissed if he ever found out what I've done to him, especially since he's straight… for now.

[axeeglitter]

My roommate is straight but thankfully super cool, sweet, and we’ve built a great friendship through college. We’re getting ready for the real world, and I would just hate to leave college as single as I started it. My roommate already has the best personality, so can you help finish turning him into a handsome golden retriever bf for me?

You should know that sometimes its best to leave well enough alone. I mean, you already hit the jackpot, didn't you? When you first arrived to college as a closeted freshman, you had been a mix of emotions- excitement with a heaping scoop of anxiety and uncertainty. And do you remember what you thought when you first met Kevin? Well, besides how attractive he was? You were worried that this jock was going to be a homophobic asshole. He had that frat bro look to him. The type of guy in high school you avoided like the plague. But you were wrong. He was kind- sweet even. You two bonded quickly over unexpected shared interests- dorky videogames, anime, and a love for the fantasy genre. You'd return to your shared room after classes and he'd return from baseball practice and you'd both nerd out for a bit. And as your bond strengthened, you two shared more. He'd talk about his goals to have a family, see the world, and learn piano. You'd share your goals to get into grad school and help people. He'd provide encouragement and support on your tough days- and you'd do the same for him.

And finally, you felt comfortable telling him you were gay. It took time and you were worried, but you did it. The words hung in the air, but he just looked at you, smiled, and offered to be your wingman. If anything, your relationship strengthened and you remained roommates all four years. It really was perfect, wasn't it?

But now? Now was the end. He would be moving across the state with his long-term girlfriend to start his training as a Physical Therapist. You would be moving out of state to start grad school. The thought of not having him around anymore- this constant source of support- weighed on you heavily. And like many gay guys with a straight best friend, you wondered 'what if he was my boyfriend?' And finally, you realize that you love him. So in the swirl of emotions that comes with graduation, new opportunities, and an uncertain future- you wanted to hold onto something. You wanted him.

"Can you help finish turning him into a handsome golden retriever bf for me?"

A simple request. Of course. But remember, sometimes its best to leave well enough alone. Maybe, in a different timeline you would've remained close friends. You'd go to his wedding as his best man, he'd go to yours as your best man. You'd meet up every couple of months for lunch. Send weekly texts to check in. Celebrate when he became a dad. Go on family vacations together. It could've been that.

But instead, as you're playing videogames one night, there's a knock on the door. He goes to get it and finds no one there, just a package. No labels or anything. Just his name written on the brown cardboard.

"Look at this." He said, bringing it inside, "I don't think I ordered anything." He smiles and lets out a small laugh, "Guess its my lucky day." He always looked at things positively- a trait you admired about him.

And when he opens it and reveals the contents, you're both a little surprised. As he removes each item piece by piece, you can see his smile faltering. First, he removed a leather harness, then two leather wrist cuffs, arms cuffs, and a collar. He tries to laugh it off, holding up the collar and inspecting it closely. He puts it down, before reaching into the box and pulling out a mask- more specifically, a pup mask.

"Wow." He looks at it closely and then at you, "I uh swear, I didn't order this."

The pup mask stares back at Kevin, its features exaggeratedly canine - floppy ears, snout, and all. He turns it over in his hands, brow furrowed in confusion. "This is so weird, man. I have no idea who would send this or why."

He sets the mask down on the coffee table, pushing it away slightly as if it might bite. His eyes drift back to the pile of BDSM gear - the harness, cuffs, collar laid out on the table.

"I guess… maybe it's a prank?" Kevin suggests weakly, not sounding convinced. He runs a hand through his short hair, mussing it. "Some of the guys on the baseball team, they can be real dicks sometimes. You don't think…"

Before either of you can react, the wrist cuffs suddenly spring to life. They slither off the coffee table like snakes, wrapping tightly around Kevin's wrists with a sharp YANK. He cries out, "OW! What the fuck!?"

The leather constricts, digging into his skin as he struggles against the magical restraints. At the same time, the stitching along the seams of Kevin's clothes begins to unravel at an alarming speed.

Threads pop and fabric tears away in large chunks, exposing more and more of his toned body. In mere seconds, his shirt and pants fall apart completely, leaving him bare except for the cuffs. You're stunned- drinking in the sight of Kevin's naked form, while watching as your friend struggles desperately to remove the wrist cuffs. But they don't budge. And then you see it. On the table. The arm cuffs are starting to move on their own accord.

As if drawn by an unseen force, the arm cuffs begin to crawl towards Kevin's elbows. They seem to move with purpose, the leather glistening ominously under the apartment lights. Kevin, still grappling with the wrist cuffs, doesn't notice the approaching threat until they're nearly upon him.

"What the hell's happening?!" he shouts, panic rising in his voice. The arm cuffs latch onto his upper arms with surprising strength. You hear another pained grunt as the leather tightens.

His muscular frame writhes as he fights against the spreading restraints, pecs flexing and abs tensing. But his struggles only seem to make the magical bonds tighter. Your eyes roam over his chiseled physique despite yourself, heart pounding.

"Kev-Kevin look out!" You're able to say as you notice the harness moving on its own.

But its too quick. The harness rises before darting forward, coiling around Kevin's chest and knocking the wind out of him. Leather straps snake up under his pits, crossing over his pecs. And with a sickening click you can hear as it straps into place, securing itself to Kevin's upper body. And as you watch closely, you notice something. Hair. Kevin was always big about manscaping. But you knew your eyes weren't deceiving you. His chest and belly were sprouting hair. After all, what kind of dog doesn't have fur?

"It's okay!" You rush over and start pulling at the harness, your hands brushing his new chest hairs, "Come on..."

"It hurts...fuck..." Kevin shudders, "I..."

But before he can get the sentence out, the collar has sprung to life. It wraps around his neck with frightening speed, with Kevin only able to get out a terrified gasp as it secures itself tightly. You stumble back for a moment and watch in terror as the name "BUDDY" carves itself into the metal tag tangling from the collar.

There's a moment of tense silence broken only by Kevin's labored breathing. Then, with a final sinister movement, the pup mask rises from the coffee table. It hovers in the air briefly before diving forward, engulfing Kevin's head completely.

"AAAHHH!!!" A muffled scream emerges from behind the mask as it seals itself onto his face. The fake ears stand tall atop his head, twitching almost comically. Through the eye openings, you can see Kevin's panicked eyes darting around wildly.

You rush over to help try and remove the mask. You two working together, pulling desperately. His panicked eyes locking with yours. Why was this happening? You wondered over and over again, barely noticing the subtle changes in your friend. His eyes glazing over, his panicked attempts to remove the mask weakening. You would never know what actually happened in his mind that day. What the mask was doing to him. How it wormed its way into his psyche, probing deep into the very core of who he was. The mask worked swiftly and ruthlessly, stripping away layer after layer of Kevin's identity and humanity.It seized upon his dreams - being with his girlfriend, perhaps getting married someday, raising a family, becoming a physical therapist... All those dreams you talked about together- one by one, those aspirations faded into nothingness, the mask erasing them entirely.

Next, it turned its attention to his language centers. His mastery of the English language vanished, leaving only primitive thoughts and simplistic commands. Through it all, the most profound change wrought by the sinister mask was shifting Kevin's very sense of self. With brutal efficiency, the mask rewrote his entire perception of reality and his place within it. Kevin, once a proud and ambitious young man, now saw himself as nothing more than a loyal, obedient dog. His old name, his very identity, crumbled away until only Buddy remained.

"Kevin?" You had mumbled weakly.

He responded with a loud "bark!"

The weeks following crept by at a agonizing pace. Your constant efforts to snap Kevin out of this bizarre trance, to restore your close friend proved utterly futile. No matter how much you begged or pleaded, he remained firmly entrenched in this golden retriever persona.

Through it all, the cruel transformation continued to chip away at his former life. His devastated girlfriend left him completely. His acceptance to his physical therapy program was revoked. Each passing day saw another piece of Kevin slip further away. Buddy was here to stay.

And as you started grad school, Buddy came along. Always there to greet you when you came home. Always rolling over for belly rubs. Whining for food. Barking at squirrels in the tree outside your room. Sometimes, when you looked into Buddy's eyes, you swore you could still see a flicker of recognition, a ghost of the man he once was. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the eager, subservient gaze of a devoted pet. 

So maybe it is best to leave well enough alone. Maybe your request got taken a bit too literally. Maybe now you'll be more careful, maybe grateful for what you have. Sure, Kevin will always be by your side. But not as your friend, or boyfriend... but as Buddy, your dumb, obedient, pet dog.

Hope you enjoyed! Had a few people asking me to give a go at another pup tf, so here you have it. Thanks everyone!

[axeeglitter]

Ryder use to be able to dicknotize anyone with his huge cock. One look at it and they would fall under his power. That was until he caught a glimpse of his Coach’s massive cock and became dicknotized himself. Now Ryder is a good boy who can’t wait to lock up his cock and shrink it down to a nub.

[axeeglitter]

Valentine's Gift Part 2

Final story of the summer sequels! A sequel to Valentine's Day Gift Part I. Hope you enjoy!

__________

The front door slams open as Jared enters the apartment, the familiar stench of stale beer and sweat assaulting his nostrils. He crinkles his nose in disgust, kicking off his shoes haphazardly.

"Yo roomie!" Kent calls out from the living room, sprawled lazily on the couch. "How was work today?"

Jared plops down heavily beside him with a weary sigh. "Same old same old. You?"

How could he going to explain to Kent that a majority of this thoughts centered on a sex toy? It had been a week since he wore that damn suit and yet it remained at the forefront of his mind. All other thoughts- pertaining to work, pertaining to Amanda- were just drowned out.

"Eh, you know me," Kent replies with a lazy shrug, scratching his belly. "Bumming around, looking for a job. Maybe I'll get lucky and score some cash tonight at the casino." He gives Jared a sly wink.

Maybe I should wear it again? Will it feel even better the second time? Why haven't I worn it again? What actually happened that night?

"Hey, Earth to Jared."

In one night that damn suit seemed to have done more damage than he could've anticipated. His relationship with Amanda seemed over. He hadn't seen his friends. His work was suffering.

"Jared?"

"Wh-what? Sorry, spaced out for a bit." Jared shook his head, "Don't you think you should focus on getting a job instead of blowing your money at the casino?"

Kent lets out a loud belch, scratching his unshaven chin. "God you're no fun. But speakin' of cash… you hear about that new sex suit everyone's wearing these days?"

Jared shifts uncomfortably on the couch, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "Um, no, can't say that I have…"

"Dude, it's crazy!" Kent continues enthusiastically, oblivious to Jared's discomfort. "Apparently it makes everything feel ten times better. Like, mind-blowingly good. I saw a video where this chick came just from trying to put it on!"

Jared swallows hard, his heart pounding. He tries to play it cool, but his voice comes out strained. "That's uh, that's pretty wild…"

Kent nods eagerly, "Totally! Oh man, I'd love to get my hands on one of those bad boys." He sighs wistfully, "Can you imagine? You'd never want to take it off!"

Jared forces a laugh, trying to hide the nervousness creeping into his tone. "Ha, yeah, I bet." His palms grow sweaty as he rubs them on his pants, "Sounds pretty intense."

Kent leans forward, his eyes lighting up. "Oh man, and get this - apparently people are making bank just by wearing these suits and posting it! People actually pay to watch that shit." He grins, rubbing his hands together greedily. "Talk about a sweet gig, am I right?"

Jared feels his stomach twist into knots, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but his voice cracks slightly. "Wow, really? That's uh, that's quite the business model…"

"Right?" He laughs, giving Jared a playful punch on the shoulder, "I wouldn't mind that kinda job, you agree?"

Jared's dick throbs with pleasure for a moment, "Uh ye- no... I don't know..." He sighs and glances around the apartment, avoiding Kent's gaze.

"Right... Well, anyway, I um, I may have forgotten to mention, but I might be a little short on rent this month. Unless I win big tonight!" Kent chuckles.

Jared feels a twinge of irritation, but it's quickly overshadowed by an unfamiliar sense of indifference. Normally, he'd be livid at Kent's irresponsibility. But lately, Kent doesn't really bother him as much. With a casual shrug, he waves off Kent's concern.

"No worries, man. I've got you covered this time."

Kent's eyes widen in surprise, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Really? Dude, you're a lifesaver!"

Jared nods absently, his mind already drifting elsewhere. "Sure, sure. No problem." He stands abruptly, stretching his arms overhead with a yawn. "Anyway, I'm gonna head to my room for a bit."

With that, he turns and ambles towards his bedroom, leaving a confused Kent staring after him. As Jared closes the door behind him, he leans against it heavily, his heart racing. The mere mention of the Pleasure Suit has him on edge.

"I need… I need to get rid of it…" He breaths, but his head hurts, he feels sweat forming on his brow. When did it get so hot?

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing the small space of his room. "Get it together, Jared," he mutters to himself, trying to shake off the unsettling feelings swirling within him. "It's just a stupid sex toy. Nothing to get worked up over." But even as the words leave his lips, he knows they ring hollow.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jared strides purposefully to his closet and pulls out the sleek black case containing the suit. His hands tremble slightly as he opens it, revealing the glossy latex interior. His fingers trace reverently over the smooth, cool surface of the suit, a visible shudder running through his body. Kent's words replay over in his head. The images flash through his mind - faceless figures writhing in ecstasy, their bodies glistening with sweat beneath the skintight latex. He imagines himself among them, lost in a sea of pleasure, all inhibitions stripped away…

"Fuck…" he groans, his dick tenting in his pants. With shaking hands, he strips off his clothing and carefully lifts the suit from its resting place, "Just one more time," he whispers, his resolve crumbling. "One more time and then I'll get rid of it…" He tries to convince himself as he lies in bed with the suit, "I shouldn't… I don't…"

And it starts. The latex wrapping around his feet, adhering seamlessly to his skin. He gasps sharply as it envelops each toe, the material pulsating gently and sending tingling jolts of electricity shooting up his calves.

"Oh god…" he moans weakly, squirming.

He feels it crawl methodically up his legs, coating his skin, conforming to every curve and hollow. It leaves nothing untouched—no pore, no nerve ending ignored.

"Fuck..." He throws his head back, his mouth opened in a silent moan, "Wh-why..." It feels different this time- somehow even more intense.

When it hits his inner thighs, Jared bucks involuntarily with a strangled cry. His cock throbs urgently, desperate for attention as the latex teases maddeningly close to his straining erection.

"Please…" Jared begs, his voice ragged with need. He tries desperately to reach for his aching cock, but the latex has already crept up to his shoulders, immobilizing his arms at his sides. He squirms helplessly, his muscles straining against the unyielding embrace of the suit.

It's torturous, being denied the relief of his own touch. The latex continues its inexorable ascent, now blanketing his chest, squeezing his nipples into stiff peaks. Each brush against the sensitive buds sends shockwaves straight to his painfully erect cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" Jared wails, his hips bucking frantically into empty air. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of his eyes, "Let me... Nnnnhggaaahhh!"

Jared groans as he feels a slim appendage slide between his ass cheeks and breach his tight hole with startling ease. It burrows deep inside him, stretching and filling him. Instinctively, he tries to grind back against the intrusion, desperate for more stimulation, but the suit has him completely immobilized now.

"Aaahhnnn! Oh god oh fuck yes!" he cries out shamelessly, all dignity abandoned. His eyes roll back in bliss as it begins to stimulate his prostate.

"Gonna… gonna cum… pleeeease!" he sobs brokenly, reduced to a babbling mess. But the suit denies him that sweet release, keeping him suspended in agony-inducing ecstasy, "N-no more… I can't… it's too much!" Jared wails.

But the relentless onslaught of sensation shows no signs of abating. If anything, it seems to be growing more intense, more targeted, as if the suit is learning his body's responses and exploiting them mercilessly.

The suit climbs steadily up Jared's neck, coiling possessively around his throat. He tilts his head back with a shuddering moan, knowing what's coming next. The latex slithers over his parted lips, forcing his mouth into a lewd O-shape.

But before the inevitable happens, the door bursts open. "Yo, roomie, you decent?" Kent calls out, strolling into the room without knocking.

Jared freezes, eyes wide with panic as he stares helplessly at Kent. Drool leaking around the gag in his mouth.

Kent stops dead in his tracks, blinking in confusion at the scene before him. "Whoa, dude… what the hell?" Kent throws his head back, guffawing loudly at the absurd sight. "Holy shit... you had one of these things? And here I thought you weren't kinky." He grins, sauntering closer to inspect his latex-clad roommate, "Damn, they weren't kidding about how intense it is!" His eyes move to Jared's straining, latex cock.

Jared squirms futilely, his face burning with humiliation. But Kent just waves off his embarrassment with a grin.

"Relax, man, I ain't gonna judge. Hell, I'm kinda jealous you got your hands on one of these bad boys before me!" He saunters closer, eyeing the suit appreciatively.

"Y'know how I was mentioning all the cash people were making off filming themselves," Kent muses, rubbing his chin. "All those pervs online would pay big bucks to see someone lose their minds in one of these." Kent grins mischievously, "I've been thinking of how'd I make some cash off this if I ever got my hands on one of these." He muses, "What if you, dressed in that suit, do everyday stuff around the apartment? Like you take orders and shit. People love that submissive shit. We put it up online, charge folks to watch." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, "Could be fun, right?"

Jared's eyes widen in shock, his mind reeling at the audacity of the suggestion. But before he can formulate a response, the suit finishes its conquest, sealing itself fully around his head with a soft hiss. The world narrows to a tunnel of black latex, his senses hyper-focused on the relentless pleasure coursing through his veins.

In an instant, a message appears, suspended in the darkness behind Jared's sealed eyelids: ………………

OWNER: Kent Fields.......USER SYNC: 100% ……………… USER PREFERENCES:.......Domestic Servant.......Submission Training………………DIRECTIVES:.......Wear suit at all times unless otherwise specified.......Prepare Owner's meals daily.......Keep shared spaces clean and tidy.......Follow Owner's every command without hesitation.......Display arousal while performing tasks.......Consent to filming exhibitionistic content for Owner's profit..........DIRECTIVE STATUS: ACTIVE

………………

A single tear rolls down Jared's latex-sealed cheek as he absorbs the implications. In his pleasure-fogged mind, it's already difficult to resist the pull of compliance.

"So... is that a deal?" Kent raises an eyebrow, "Cause I really need a sandwich."

The suit pulses around Jared's body, as if savoring his submission. With that, Jared's legs tremble as he rises unsteadily to his feet, the suit supporting his weight. He sways slightly, disoriented, before the suit guides him towards the kitchen with a gentle tug.

"Fuck yeah, looks like I got my answer!" Kent grins, "Oh shit... Wait! I need to grab my camera!"

[axeeglitter]

CLIPPING ON THE JOCK

The clip-ons had a nice silver gleam to them, despite clearly being cheaply made. They were a joke purchase from a street vendor, that Leo, a man whose personal style leaned towards quiet, well-fitted neutrals, now held in his palm. They were absurd, quite frankly. Two rings meant to look real but failing miserably. He’d bought them on a whim, a tiny act of rebellion against his own sensible nature. Alone in his pristine apartment, he chuckled, lifting them towards his ears.

The moment the cold, flimsy metal clamped onto his virgin lobes, he yelped in pain. They didn’t clip to his ears, more punctured through them, a sharp pain coursing through his ears as they pierced them immediately.

And suddenly, agony was coursing through his head, both from the sudden stabbing and an immediate migraine pulsing through him as the waves of energy drove through him, practically stabbing his brain as well as just his ears. He tried to scream, but the sound was lost, strangled by his own mouth refusing to open.

As if the pain was a key unlocking the door to his mind, a strange energy and change crashed in through him. A deep, resonant hum in his limbs, causing them to pulse and expand with each shudder and gasp, expanding into strong, clearly defined muscles. He could recall working out at the gym, purposefully designating days to work on his arms, his legs, his chest. Speaking of his chest, it too was expanding, pecs jutting out like shelves, abs solidifying like cobblestone, back muscles pushing out and forming tight ridges and curves on his sculpted torso. All while that initial, excruciating pain in his ears morphed, spreading through his skull, and becoming a warm, pleasurable buzz that melted his thoughts into static. His eyes, wide with shock, glazed over, the pupils dilating into black pools of dazed, hypnotic arousal as his cock twitched.

His whole body jerked as it did, snapping him straight, and he resettled into a lazy, cocky slouch. His shoulders were expanding outwards as his neck thickened, the adam's apple jutting out just like his pecs, his hand feeling the new growth on his neck as they too expanded, knuckles becoming more defined and the fingers growing thicker, stronger. He groaned as he groped that new adams apple, hearing a deep, guttural, pleasure-filled rumble vibrate through his chest, a sound that could only be described as pure, raw, dumb power. “Fuck… yeah…”

A fierce, prickling itch exploded across his scalp. His neat, brown hair seemed to thicken, erupting into a wild cascade of perfect yet chaotic curls. Simultaneously, ink began to bloom across his skin - less like tattoos being applied, and more like memories surfacing through flesh. Intricate patterns, with roses, latin script, all rising up from beneath the skin, bringing memories of a new life with them.

His face transformed, jaw squaring out into a block of granite, clean shaven and neat. His cheekbones sharpened. His lips, once thin, became fuller, settling into a permanent, smug smirk. His nose felt stronger as it realigned. His eyes changed, becoming a vacant, bright blue, and they held a constant, low-burning hunger. A need.

The hypnotic buzz in his mind shifted into a more banging sensation, it was a sledgehammer to his psyche. Leo’s intricate mind - his love of indie films, his nuanced understanding of art, his quiet identity - was being pulverized and erased. Replaced by a flood of sensations and impulses that were simpler, louder, and infinitely more compelling.

Vivid, visceral memories forced their way to the front of his mind, demanding to be recalled. The burn of a maxed-out bench press, the grunt of effort, the admiring glance from a girl in yoga pants. His domain. His home. The thumping of shitty rap music in a crowded locker room, as he rapped along, crude jokes with the lads. His lads. The sight of his own pumped biceps in the mirror, the feel of a tight shirt or tank stretching across his back. And a deep, needing ache. A constant, low-level, throbbing ache in his groin, the centre of his new universe. The need to look, to touch, to fuck. Women. Curvy, big-titted, adoring women. The thought of a man, any man, even the ghost of Leo, made him feel a confused, aggressive disgust. Gay? That was a weak, stupid thing to be. He was all man. All man.

A name echoed in his mind, Chad. Chad. That was him, wasn’t it? “Fuck… yeah…” He repeated, relishing in the deep grumble.

The transformation was almost complete. The hypnotic energy from the piercings, now permanently fused to his earlobes, synced with the throbbing, insistent heat in his groin. It was a demand. A command, even. This new body, Chad’s body, needed to christen itself, to expel the last remnants of a weaker, wrong identity.

His massive hand dropped to the insistent throbbing in his trousers. The fabric was impossibly tight, straining over a thick, heavy weight that hadn’t been there before. He didn't fumble. His movements were sure, confident. He ripped the remaining fabric away, and there it was. Thick, veined, and heavy, jutting proudly from a thatch of dark, coarse hair. It was his. The proof. His trophy. A low, animal growl rumbled in his chest, pure, uncomplicated need. His large, calloused hand, smelling of fresh sweat and iron, wrapped around his own cock. The touch was electric, a circuit of pure, dumb vanity and lust completing.

He began to stroke, not with shame, but with a narcissistic, possessive rhythm. His eyes were wide open, locked on his reflection, not on the face, but on the powerful arm working, the bicep bulging and swelling with each stroke, the thick veins snaking over his forearm, the tattoos rippling over the new, dense muscle. This was worship. Adoration of the magnificent, simple thing he had become.

"Yeah... fuckin' look at that…" he grunted, his voice a deep, stupid rasp. Each pump of his fist sent waves of pleasure crashing through him. With each stroke, another fragment of Leo’s past was annihilated, replaced by the solid, sensory reality of Chad.

The sounds of a gym echoed in his ears. The clang of weights. The shitty rap music. The memory of a hundred girls checking him out, their eyes wide with want. It was all his. It had always been his. He was the king. The alpha. The top fucking dog.

His rhythm became more urgent, his breath coming in ragged, powerful grunts. The muscles in his stomach clenched into a hard, rippled board. His powerful thighs trembled. The pleasure built, a terrifying, incredible peak of pure, mindless release. With a final, guttural roar that was pure, masculine rage, he came. Thick, hot, copious ropes shot across his own stomach and chest, splattering the new tattoos, the smell of it - musky and potent - mixing with the scent of his sweat to create the ultimate perfume of the dumb jock.

He slumped back, breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat glistening on his incredible new physique. His own cum was warm on his skin. He looked down at the mess, then at his own hand, and let out a low, throaty, arrogant laugh. "Fuck yeah brah…”

He rose to his feet, the movement full of pure and arrogant grace. He stood to his full, imposing height. He didn't clean himself. The mess was a badge of honor. He was Chad. He was strong. He was horny. And he was so, so fucking dumb. The clip-ons were replaced by the real, steel in his ears, a permanent anchor to this new, perfect, simple reality. He needed to get to the gym. He needed to be seen. He needed to find some chick to fuck. The king was ready to hold court.

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