kylestfs

[kylestfs]

LIFT

Jay said, his voice firm and steady, the way a coach’s should be. As a 40 year old gym coach, he had his habits when it came to training guys, helping them get to their physical fitness goals. He looked at the guy he was training as gritted his teeth and pulled the barbell up with a shaky breath.

“Lift.”

The weight came down again. Jay rolled his shoulders, watching closely, his own muscles twitching from habit.

“Lift.”

He blinked. Something felt off. He had said that word a million times, but this time, it echoed strangely in his head, stretching out—

“Liftttt—”

A rush of cold air hit him. His breath stuck into the black balaclava he was wearing. His gloved hands gripped a metal bar..

He was on a ski lift.

His body felt different—lean, light, skinny, a comfortable flex beneath sleek layers of ski gear. His boots rested on the bar, expensive and pristine. A helmet pressed snugly against his head.

And next to him sat someone else. Another guy, equally sleek, equally expensive-looking. His ski goggles reflected the bright winter sun, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“You alright, bro?” the guy asked, his voice teasing, slow and hot. Seemingly young and teenage-ish. “You zoned out for a sec.”

Jay- or was it Jayden swallowed. The guy’s voice was familiar. This whole scene was familiar. He wasn’t just on any ski lift. He was on his ski lift.

Memories trickled in—winter trips, après-ski parties, Miami beaches, yachts, fast cars. He wasn’t a gym coach. He was…

A rich 20-year-old ski boy. Jayden.

And the guy next to him? Jayden knew him too. Knew his name. Knew the way his smirk turned into a breathless laugh when they were racing down the ski slopes.

Knew the way they flirted, although they weree supposed to be fully straight.

Jaydens lips parted, a cocky smirk forming on their own.

“Guess I was just distracted,” he said, his voice smooth, rich, young. “Probably by you.”

The guy chuckled, shifting closer.

“Good,” he murmured. “We got the whole lift ride to get even more distracted.”

He turned toward the guy next to him, the heat between them cutting through the crisp mountain air. The dude was hot—really hot. Not because he had a beautiful face (he did), but because he looked so handsome in his ski gear. You couldn’t even see his face behind his balaclava, helmet & ski mask. But Jayden remembered tons of nights with his bro, sucking it and taking it without any hesitation.

The guy’s gloved hand shifted, resting casually on Jayden’s thigh, just above his ski pants. Not quite subtle. Not quite innocent.

Jayden smirked. “Getting comfortable?”

The guy just grinned, his fingers pressing in slightly. “You looked cold.”

Jayden chuckled, shifting slightly so their knees bumped together. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you just wanna touch me?”

The other guy tilted his head, his ski goggles sliding down slightly. “Touch what? You’re barely packing anything”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. It was all coming back now—the way they teased each other, the way neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, especially on long ski lifts like this.

He let his own hand drift, sweaty gloved fingers brushing over the guy’s arm, then his chest, feeling the firm skinny body beneath the layers.

“Damn,” Jayden murmured, voice low. “Forgot how solid you are.”

The guy smirked. “Forgot how much you liked that.” His hand slid higher, fingers squeezing just a little.

Jayden rolled his eyes, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Shut up, Luca.”

Luca just grinned. His hand sliding lower and lower, cupping Jayden’s average sized dick beneath the ski gear layers. He moaned.

Jayden shifted, pressing himself closer against Luca, feeling the heat of his body even through their thick ski gear. His breath hitched as Luca’s hand slid lower, teasing over the waistband of his ski pants.

“Hey,” Jayden murmured, voice dropping into something softer, needier. “Pet me.”

Luca chuckled, fingers stilling just at the curve of Jayden’s rear. “Pet you where?” he asked, like he wanted to hear Jayden say it.

Jayden swallowed, face heating beneath his balaclava. He knew what Luca wanted, and he knew how much he loved teasing him for it. “You know where,” he muttered, shifting slightly. His small, tight rear barely filled out his ski pants, a firm little thing that didn’t bulge out at all, just hugged close to his frame like it belonged to a lean, sleek ski boy like him. He knew Luca liked it, liked how perky and snug it was.

Luca hummed, fingers finally pressing in, palming over the slight curve. “Damn,” he teased, voice rich with amusement. “Forgot how tiny this thing is. No wonder it takes so much work to feel you.”

Jayden groaned, half from embarrassment, half from the way Luca’s fingers kneaded him, spreading warmth through his layers. He pushed back slightly, encouraging. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

Luca just laughed, fingers pressing firmer, squeezing the small handful of Jayden’s rear through his ski pants. “Cute,” he murmured. “All tight and little.

Jayden’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted in that way it always did when Luca had him like this—flushed, flustered, teased into submission.

Luca’s grip on him tightened suddenly, fingers digging in just enough to make Jayden jolt. Then, his voice came, low and playful, right against Jayden’s ear.

“Do something for me,” he said

Jayden swallowed. “What?”

Luca’s hand on his ass flexed, warm and firm. “Fart on my hand.”

Jayden’s stomach twisted—not from disgust, but from something deeper, something hotter. The fact that Luca was actually asking for it, wanting it, made Jayden’s pulse hammer against his throat. His first instinct should’ve been to shove Luca’s hand away, to roll his eyes and laugh it off. But instead, he found himself shifting, adjusting his seat, making sure Luca’s hand was cupped right under him.

His ski pants were tight, snug against his body, trapping in every bit of heat from their morning runs down the mountain. He could feel the layers hugging him close, sealing in the warmth, sealing in everything.

“Hold on,” Jayden murmured, his voice dropping, turning softer, breathier. He pressed his weight down against Luca’s palm, focusing, feeling the slw churn in his stomach.

Luca let out a slow chuckle, his fingers flexing slightly over Jayden’s tight, small rear. “Atta boy,” he murmured, encouraging. “Let it out, rich boy.”

Jayden sucked in a breath, his gut bubbling, twisting from the sausages and potatoes he’d downed at breakfast. His teenage metabolism had been working overtime, turning everything he ate into fuel—and, apparently, gas. The pressure built low in his gut, warm and insistent, pushing right against the tight waistband of his ski pants.

And then—

Prrfffttt—

A slow, hot burst of gas pushed out, muffled by the thick insulation of his ski gear but heavy, sinking straight into the layers of fabric. It was thick, rich, almost humid in the way it settled, caught between the padding of his ski pants, sinking in deep, unable to escape. The scent hit immediately—sulfuric, eggy, lingering deep in the heat of his clothes

Luca exhaled, fingers tightening over Jayden’s ass. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice dipping, lower, rougher. “That’s rank.”

Jayden shivered, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted, letting the warmth of it seep deeper into his pants, knowing it was trapped there, brewing, getting stronger by the second.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice breathy, cocky. He pushed back slightly, his rear still snug against Luca’s palm. “You like that?”

Luca let out a low chuckle, rubbing slow, lazy circles over Jayden’s rear. “Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Gimme another.”

Jayden’s stomach flipped. The heat of Luca’s hand, the way he was actually asking for it, made him feel—fuck. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to feed him more.

He bit his lip, stomach twisting again, another deep, rich bubble of gas pushing low. He wanted this. Wanted to let go again, right into Luca’s waiting hand.

Jayden shifted once more, feeling the pressure in his gut build, his stomach still working through the sausages and potatoes he’d eaten. He could feel the weight of it in his lower belly, thick and sluggish, pressing against the tight fabric of his ski pants. His butt cheeks shifted restlessly, the material of his gear rubbing against his skin, and the warmth of the gas started to rise, spreading in the thick layers.

Luca’s hand never left his body. It was a steady, relentless presence, still cupping the firm curve of Jayden’s tight butt, fingers flexing, pressing in, making him feel every inch of his body responding to the heat between them.

Jayden bit his lip, shivers running up his spine. “You want another?” he asked, voice dipping low, almost teasing now. “You still want me to let one out?”

Luca grinned, eyes glinting behind his goggles. “I can smell it, man. It’s making me crazy.” His gloved fingers slid up the small of Jayden’s back, a soft, possessive motion. “Let me have it, bro. Don’t hold back.”

Jayden’s heart raced, but he didn’t hesitate. His body was warm, all the gas inside him pressing, making him feel full, heavy. With a deep breath, he let go, feeling it start to push, slowly at first, then building in intensity, a thick, sour release slipping out, unmistakable, the eggy smell rich and heavy, cutting through the air. It was rotten, like overcooked eggs left in a pan too long, mixed with the greasy stench of sausages and potatoes still turning in his gut.

The warmth of it sank into the thick layers of his ski gear, filling the space between his body and the ski pants, wrapping around him like a blanket. It didn’t escape immediately—it was trapped, all that foul gas sitting heavily in the padding, saturating the fabric with the stench of his breakfast, settling right into the curve of his tight butt.

Luca inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuck,” he muttered, a low, guttural sound. “That’s bad, Jayden. Really bad.” He shifted closer, leaning in, his breath hot against Jayden’s cheek as he took another deep sniff, nose pressing closer to Jayden’s buns. The smell of the eggs and sausage lingered on Luca’s breath, mingling with the sharp, almost sour tang of his sweat.

Jayden couldn’t help but feel a rush of something strange, a warmth flooding through his chest. “You like it?” he asked, voice low, almost breathless now. “You like how disgusting it smells?”

Luca’s hand slid down again, cupping Jayden’s buns harder, squeezing tight. “Hell yeah,” his nose brushed along Jayden’s butt, drawing in a long, slow breath, inhaling the thick, foul air trapped in the layers of his ski gear while surrounded by the snow of the mountains and the calm atmosphere.

Jayden groaned, leaning back into it, knowing that Luca was practically addicted to the smell. His body felt flush, each inhale of the stench making him feel something darker, something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight anymore. “You really want me to let go again?” Jayden whispered, biting his lip, pushing back against Luca’s touch.

Luca’s fingers dug in harder in the already hard small cheeks. “Give it to me,” he growled, voice low and desperate. “I wanna smell all of it, bro”

—————-

Luca :

Jayden :

[kylestfs]

Dynamic

In a city of millions, two men—Ryan and Jason—lived completely separate lives, their paths never meant to cross.

Until tonight.

Bored, they each scrolled through their phones, searching for something (or someone) to pass the time. That’s when they both found it.

A strange, unnamed app, sitting deep in the app store. No description. No reviews. No history. Just a sleek, pulsing chat bubble icon with a single prompt after installation:

*Start Chat*

Neither of them hesitated.

They clicked.

Their screens went black for a moment before loading a simple chat window. A single message appeared at the top.

— You are now connected. Say hi! —

Ryan, stretched across his bed, thumbed at his screen. The chat had connected him with a random guy.

Whatever. He had nothing better to do.

Ryan: Hey. Who’s this?

Across the city, Jason blinked at the message. Who the hell was this?

Jason: idk, just found this app. You?

Ryan: Same. Looks kinda sketch ngl

Jason: Yeah lol. Guess we’re both bored af

Simple. Casual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for the pull.

Neither of them noticed at first, but the moment they exchanged words, something shifted.

Something had taken hold.

Ryan absently rubbed his fingertips together. His skin felt… softer.

The air in his room seemed warmer, heavier against his body. His shirt, loose before, now draped differently over his torso. His waist felt tighter, his frame subtly shrinking in on itself.

He shifted against his mattress. Something about the way his body rested felt off.

No—not off. Different.

Ryan: Lol yeah… kinda fun tho~

Wait.

His eyes widened slightly. Why had he typed that? That tilde at the end—he never texted like that. It was… cutesy. Flirty.

A faint pink dusted his cheeks.

His softer, rounder cheeks.

Meanwhile, Jason tilted his head at the message.

Something about it made his gut tighten. No—not tighten. Expand.

A slow, rippling sensation spread through his torso, a warmth settling into his shoulders, chest, and arms.

His grip on his phone felt stronger.

He flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift beneath his skin. His palm looked different.

Larger. Thicker. Rougher.

His lips curled into a small smirk. He typed without thinking.

Jason: Yeah, guess it’s not so bad. Ur kinda funny lol

The moment he hit send—

Crack.

Jason inhaled sharply as his spine lengthened. A sudden heat surged through his body, muscle knitting together, growing denser, stronger. His once lean frame stretched, broadening, his shoulders pushing outward with a slow, satisfying pressure.

He rolled them instinctively, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his new build. His chest felt heavier, his pecs firmer, fuller. His biceps bulged slightly as he shifted, his veins subtly rising beneath his skin.

His scent was changing too.

The faint, neutral smell of his room was being overpowered by something else. Something thicker, muskier.

Something his.

Ryan’s breath hitched as he read Jason’s text.

“Ur kinda funny lol.”

It wasn’t even that flirty, but why did it make his stomach flutter?

His fingers trembled slightly as he typed back.

Ryan: Omg shut uppp lol ur teasing me~

The moment he sent it—

His waist cinched inward.

His stomach flattened, growing softer, smoother. His hips pressed outward, the bones shifting beneath his skin, forming an alluring, delicate curve.

His legs stretched slightly, but instead of gaining size, they slenderized.

His thighs—once average—became soft, plush, and bony.

His calves slimmed, his ankles narrowing into dainty, elegant proportions. His fingers flexed, and he gasped.

They were smaller.

More delicate.

A faint, involuntary giggle bubbled up from his throat.

His higher, sweeter, softer throat.

Jason exhaled through his nose, stretching his newly broadened body.

His arms felt heavy with strength. His hands—now massive compared to before—flexed against his thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats.

A warm dampness clung beneath his arms, his natural musk intensifying. He reeked.

And he loved it.

A cocky grin spread across his face.

Jason: Lmao, what, you like it when I tease?

Ryan shuddered. His plush thighs squeezed together. His ass twitched.

His soft, round, plump ass.

Jason leaned back, rolling his shoulders. His chest stretched against his shirt, the fabric clinging to the new thickness of his pecs.

His scent was unmistakable now—deep, raw, masculine, and honestly really smelly.

His armpits—warm, slightly damp—radiated a rich, musky funk. His feet, once average-sized, had grown huge, the soles pressing against the floor with a newfound weight.

His socks, discarded nearby, were stained with sweat, the scent thick and heady in the air.

Jason: Lol bet you’d love burying your face in my pits rn huh?

Ryan’s breath hitched.

His body trembled.

A deep, unfamiliar need coiled in his gut. His thighs clenched instinctively, his ass wiggling against the bed.

His lips parted slightly, his pinker, softer lips.

A whimper slipped out.

His hgher, needier whimper.

His mind felt hazy.

Ryan: Omg wtf why would u say that!!!

Jason: Lmao, you love it.

Ryan whined.

He did.

He fucking did.

Jason was complete.

His massive frame, his thick, dominant scent, his cocky, fuckboy energy—he was the epitome of a top.

His feet huge and sweaty. His pits ripe and musky. His voice deep and commanding.

And Ryan?

Ryan was his.

A tiny, blushing, submissive, needy bottom.

His soft, round ass—perfectly made for his top. His body, delicate, built to be claimed. His mind, rewired to crave Jason’s dominance, his scent, his filth

They had started as strangers.

Now, they were something else.

they only had memories of being a couple for a year.

— two days later—

Jason was all Ryan could think about now—his sweaty frame, his overpowering musk, his deep, arrogant voice.

His scent.

His filth.

A whimper slipped from Ryan’s lips. His pinker, fuller lips. His stomach twisted with hunger.

Ryan: omg jason…

Jason smirked at the message, stretching his broad, muscular arms above his head, his damp armpits airing out. He let out a long, lazy exhale, flexing his thick biceps.

His body felt heavy, powerful, dominant.

Ryan was wrapped around his finger.

Jason : Lmao what

Ryan’s thighs clenched.

His soft, dainty fingers hovered over the keyboard. His heart pounded.

He knew what he wanted.

He needed it.

But saying it outright—admitting it—felt so shameless.

Still, his body was betraying him.

His fingers moved.

Ryan: can u…

He hesitated

A soft whimper left his lips as he wiggled against his bed.

Ryan: c-can u send me… a video… of ur fart again?

Jason blinked.

Jason: Lmao, again?

Ryan covered his blushing, soft face. His cheeks burned

His tiny, needy, giggly body squirmed.

Ryan: pls babe?

Jason chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

His short, unkempt hair was messy, sweaty, sticking up in places.

He didn’t think much about it.

In fact, he didn’t think much about anything.

Not his scent. Not his filth. Not the way his boxers clung to his sweaty skin, or how his feet were practically marinating in his old socks.

He just existed.

And he smelled like himself.

Jason: sure i guess, babe

He barely gave it a second thought as he shifted, spreading his legs slightly. He leaned back, pressing into the bed, his massive, sweaty frame sinking into the mattress.

He lifted his thick ass cheek slightly and—

PPPPPFFFRRRRTTTTT

A long, wet, lazy fart rumbled out of him, vibrating against the fabric of his stretched-out, sweaty boxers.

The scent hit him instantly.

Jason: Lmao, that one was loud af.

Ryan shuddered. His eyes were wide, trembling, desperate.

His plump thighs rubbed together, his body overheated with need. The need to smell it.

He had to know.

He had to hear it.

Ryan: how did it smell?

Jason raised an eyebrow.

Smell?

What smell? He didn’t smell at all, right ?

He gave a casual shrug, completely oblivious to the dense, suffocating funk that now lingered in the air around him.

Jason: idk, just normal I guess?

Ryan let out a needy whimper, his fingers gripping the sheets.

Jason: Wait… U really like this huh?

Ryan’s heart pounded. His soft chest rose and fell rapidly.

He couldn’t deny it.

He was hooked. Obsessed.

Jason stretched again, his thick, sweaty muscles flexing. A cocky smirk played at his lips.

Jason: Alright then, say it.

Ryan blinked.

Ryan: s-say what?

Jason grinned.

Jason: Tell me how much u want me.

Ryan whined.

His body burned with humiliation, excitement, and deep, desperate need.

He wanted Jason to own him.

And he would admit it.

There was no escaping it now.

——————-

Ryan :

Jason :

[kylestfs]

Give this some love ! Amazing story 💖

Sam Zia

Sam Zia had it all. Chiseled jawline, a body carved from years of dedication in the gym, and a TikTok following of millions who worshipped his advice on masculinity, self-improvement, and how to be an alpha male. He preached discipline, hygiene, and success. His fans saw him as the ultimate peak of male perfection.

But one day, everything changed.

It started subtly. Sam, always precise about his diet, began experimenting with the bulk. Not the clean, protein-packed meals he used to swear by, but the dirty, greasy, carb-heavy food that promised quick mass at the expense of digestion. Burgers, protein shakes overloaded with questionable powders, and eggs—dozens of eggs—became his daily fuel.

At first, he felt invincible. His muscles swelled, his energy skyrocketed… but then, a dark force emerged from within. His stomach began to rebel. Gurgling. Churning. And then—the gas.

At first, he tried to suppress it, maintaining his polished alpha image. But then, mid-TikTok live, it happened.

“Yo, fellas, if you wanna be a REAL man, you gotta—” PFFFFFRRRRTT

A deep, reverberating blast escaped him, loud enough to rattle his chair. He froze. His perfectly sculpted face turned a shade of red he hadn’t seen since his first squat failure.

He expected embarrassment. He expected people to call him out.

Instead? The video went viral.

Comments flooded in:

“Bro is so alpha he doesn’t even care.”

“That was the most masculine fart I’ve ever heard.”

“Real men embrace their natural odors.”

And just like that, a new ideology was born.

It started with one video, but Sam, ever the influencer, knew when to capitalize on momentum. The next day, he posted:

“Men today are too obsessed with being ‘clean’ and ‘proper.’ You think our ancestors cared about showers? Nah, they were out there, fighting mammoths, reeking of strength and dominance. Hygiene is a scam. If you smell bad, it means you’re working hard.”

And the crowd ate it up.

Sam leaned in harder. His once pristine, cologne-spritzed gym clothes became stained tanks with unidentified smears. His showers? Less frequent. His grooming? Nonexistent. His content? A full-on campaign to make men embrace their primal state.

“Ditch the deodorant. Stop washing your gym shorts. Embrace the stench.”

And the most legendary part? The farts.

Sam stopped holding them in. If anything, he turned them into a symbol of raw, unfiltered manliness. Every TikTok featured at least one unholy release, accompanied by a smug smirk. His comments turned into a brotherhood of stink.

“Sam, I took your advice. Haven’t washed in two weeks. My girl left me, but I feel powerful.”

“Dude, I farted in my gym and cleared out the weaklings. Only real men remained.”

“A guy at work told me to wear deodorant, so I quit my job. Thanks for the wisdom, king.”

Sam’s influence was undeniable. Gyms nationwide reported an increase in noxious odors. Deodorant companies saw stocks plummet. High-protein, fiber-loaded diets surged in popularity, not for their muscle-building benefits, but for their ability to fuel the movement.

Even brands took notice. Soon, Sam had sponsorship deals—not for cologne or grooming kits, but for industrial-strength air fresheners (marketed for the weak) and bean-based meal plans.

One day, he posted his magnum opus:

“The real test of masculinity? Walk into a crowded elevator. Let it rip. Stand tall. Own it. If people leave, they’re weak. If they stay, they respect you.”

The challenge took off. #ZiaGasChallenge trended worldwide. Videos surfaced of men proudly fumigating locker rooms, parties, and even dates. The movement was unstoppable.

Sam had transformed completely. The man who once championed clean bulking, high-value grooming, and aesthetic perfection was now the undisputed King of the Stink Bros. He lived by his code:

• Laundry is for betas.

• Showers are optional.

• Farts are power.

His mansion, once pristine, now smelled like a mix of protein shakes, gym socks, and raw testosterone. His fans? More loyal than ever.

And as he sat back, inhaling his own toxic masterpiece, he smiled.

Because this? This was true masculinity.

[kylestfs]

A Second Chance

Jack stood outside the building of ChangeMotors. At 50 years old, he very rightfully felt out of place against the modern, minimalist design of the pristine car dealership.

He hesitated at the door before stepping inside. The showroom floor very well lit with chrome accents catching his eye. Rows of luxury cars lined the space, each one as polished as the other. The smell of leather and new paint filled his senses as he became a bit overwhelmed by the whole environment surrounding him.

At the far end of the showroom, a man stood waiting. Tall and commanding, the CEO was dressed in a sharp black suit, exuding authority but friendliness at the same time, he appeared to be very young to own such a place, barely above 30.

Jack approached, looking at the CEO up and down, his eyes catching on the very obscene bulge almost breaking through his chinos.

 ”Welcome, Jack" Sterling, the CEO, said smoothly, gesturing toward his office. “Have a seat.”

Jack sat, looking at sterling leaning back in his chair. “So, you’re looking for a job here?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack replied, his voice steady but very obviously uncertain. “I’ve worked in sales before. I’m sure I could—”

Sterling interrupted with a faint smile. “Jack, this is a high-performing dealership. We demand excellence—sharp minds, energetic bodies, and… the right image. Let’s see if you fit, alright ?”

Before Jack could respond, sterlings voice dropped into a smooth, rhythmic cadence. “Let’s make sure you’re exactly what this dealership needs, shall we?”

“We need someone young, vibrant,” Sterling murmured. “Start with your feet, Jack. Strong, quick, and… appealing.”

Jack gasped confusingly as a tingling sensation washed over his feet. He looked down to see his shoes tightening. His feet shrank slightly, the toes becoming narrower and more defined. The clean, soft smell completely faded, leaving room for a strong, unpleasant young foot funk. His once-calloused soles smoothed out, the skin aged taking on a youthful look.

Jack felt confused, but his thoughts were so clouded and interrupted that he barely questioned the first change.

“Good,” Sterling continued, his voice hypnotic and slow, almost dull. “An employee should be tall and also presentable. Stand up straight for me, jack.”

A sudden warmth spread through Jack’s legs, starting from his thighs and working downward. His once-thick legs, shaped by years of inactivity, began to slim, and while the excess fat melted away, lean and wiry muscle began to form, while his thighs became slim yet strong, perfectly proportional and skinny.

“Of course, confidence starts in the butt” Sterling said with a sly grin.

The warmth in Jack’s spine surged downward, drooling in his hips and ass. His once-flat backside pushed outward, rounding into two perfectly proportioned little globes, full, noticeable and very soft. His slacks stretched tight against his newly sculpted butt, accentuating the curve.

Sterling’s eyes blinked mischievously. “Oh, and i believe you should stay concentrated and not have anything distracting you. After all, we can’t have anything pulling your focus away from your work, can we?”

The confident weight he had grown accustomed to just moments ago started to fade. Slowly but surely, his dick began to retract. The tight bulge that had once filled his slacks diminished, leaving the fabric smooth and far less pronounced. His once above-average size now dwindled to below average, settling at a modest 3.9 inches when erect and barely noticeable otherwise. His balls also shrunk and scrunched up, making his new, small package complete.

Sterling nodded approvingly. “Good, good. Now, let’s work on that core.”

A tightening sensation spread across Jack’s torso. His bloated belly flattened as if years of poor eating habits were being undone in an instant. His chest, once sagging and soft, firmed up—but instead of bulky muscle, his pecs took on a slim, athletic shape. His arms followed suit, slimming down but revealing lean muscle, with just enough definition to suggest strength without bulk.

The warmth spread to Jack’s face. He reached up instinctively, feeling his sagging jowls tighten. The wrinkles around his mouth and eyes smoothed out, replaced by youthful skin. His jawline sharpened, becoming more angular and defined. His cheekbones rose slightly, giving him a handsome but approachable look.

Even his hair transformed. The graying strands darkened, thickened, and styled themselves into a neat, trendy cut that looked effortless but carefully maintained.

The final wave of warmth swept over Jack’s head. His thoughts grew lighter, less burdened by years of experience. The weight of his responsibilities and the wisdom of his age evaporated, replaced by a playful, carefree outlook.

He smiled, a flirty glint in his eye as his personality adjusted to match his body. He felt energetic, eager to please, and just a little careless—a young man with nothing to worry about but his next task.

Sterling’s voice took on a commanding tone. “Forget insecurity, forget hesitation. You are bold. You are the kind of man who walks into a room and owns it. Confidence is your default setting.”

Jack’s shoulders straightened as the words sank in. He felt a surge of unearned self-assurance coursing through him. The man who had walked in, nervous and uncertain, faded away. His grin widened, cocky and self-satisfied.

Sterling smirked. “There we go. Confidence. Now you believe every woman wants you, every man envies you. It’s who you are.”

Jack—no, Ayden—laughed. “Yeah, that’s me, boss. No question about it.” His voice had gained a playful arrogance, his posture brimming with swagger.

Sterling’s eyes gleamed. “A man like you should have no confusion about who you are or what you want. You’re as straight as they come, fully focused on women. That’s all you think about now. All you need.”

Ayden’s mind buzzed as the suggestion took hold. Any lingering thoughts or flexibility in his preferences dissolved, replaced by a single-minded attraction to women. His gaze grew more flirtatious, his thoughts simpler and entirely physical.

He smirked. “Yeah, women are the only thing worth thinking about, huh? I mean, who wouldn’t want me?”

Sterling nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Keep that focus. You’ve got no time for anything else.”

The CEO’s tone shifted again, low and entrancing. “A sharp mind isn’t necessary for your new role. You don’t need to overthink or complicate things. You’re young, carefree, and simple—just go with the flow. You’ll have fewer worries, fewer thoughts weighing you down.”

Ayden’s face dulled for a moment before smoothing out. The previous issues of his adult life—the anxieties, the knowledge vanished like smoke. His thoughts became lighter, simpler, and significantly dumber.

“Yeah, thinking too much sucks anyway,” Ayden said, laughing. “Just tell me what to do, boss. I’m ready for anything.”

Sterling leaned back, satisfied. “Perfect. You’re confident, focused, and free of anything unnecessary. Just the way I like my interns.”

As Jack—now Ayden—basked in his newfound confidence, Sterling’s smile turned sly. “But you’re not quite done yet. Let’s add a little extra"

Ayden frowned slightly, confused. A tingling warmth spread over his skin, starting from his arms and chest, and his features sharpened slightly, taking on a more distinctly Mexican aesthetic, his mind flooding with the time he spent in Mexico when he was younger"

Sterling sniffed the air, chuckling softly. “Ah, there it is. That spice. That’s your new signature"

Jack’s armpits tingled as the change swept through them. The subtle clean scent of an older man was replaced by a sharper smell, one that carried a faint hint of Mexican spices, heat, and sweat. It wasn’t overpowering, but it lingered in the air—an unmistakable signature of a 20 year old boy who wasn’t overly concerned with deodorant or showering for thzt matter.

Ayden caught the faint aroma wafting around him. It was spicier now, heavier, like a mix of sweat and something almost smoky. His cheeks flushed, but the scent didn’t bother him—it felt natural, right.

Jack blinked as his stomach churned unexpectedly. A warmth bubbled deep within his gut, spreading outward. At first, it felt like indigestion, but it quickly intensified into a constant, almost pleasant pressure. He doubled over slightly, confused.

“Don’t worry,” Sterling said with a smirk. “This is all part of the process. Let me explain.”

A low rumble escaped Jack’s abdomen, followed by a sharp burst of air. The sound echoed awkwardly in the small office, and the smell hit seconds later—a pungent, almost eye-watering combination of sulfur and spice. Jack’s eyes widened in horror, but Sterling only laughed.

“That,” Sterling said, “is your new weapon.”

Jack couldn’t believe it, but the gurgling in his stomach continued. His body felt lighter, freer, but the pressure wouldn’t go away. Another loud burst escaped him, this one even worse than the first. The smell was overwhelming, like scorched peppers and raw onions left to rot in the sun, but Auden strangely began to like the sensation of the steaming hot foul air escaping his hairy, smelly anus, each smelly burst resulting in a masculine moan.

Sterling leaned forward, his grin widening. “This isn’t just some embarrassing side effect. This is power. Those farts? They’re all urs now. It’s constant, uncontrollable, and unforgettable. The smell alone will dominate anyone in the room. It’s raw, primal, and impossible to ignore.”

Jack tried to protest, but another burst erupted, filling the room with an even thicker haze. The spicy, steamy scent seemed to cling to the air, and Sterling waved his hand through it with a satisfied smirk.

“Women won’t stand a chance,” Sterling continued. “That scent? It’ll overwhelm them, distract them, leave them dazed. It’s not just gas—it’s influence. Confidence. Dominance."

Jack—no, Ayden—felt the pressure in his gut settle into a constant churn. He could feel the gas building, ready to escape at any moment. It was embarrassing, humiliating even, but at the same time, he felt an odd sense of power. The scent, the sound—it commanded attention, demanded respect.

Sterling’s voice softened, almost playful. “And don’t worry about control. Let it out. Let it all out. It’s who you are now—a bold, gassy, confident young man with the power to dominate any room.”

"Welcome to ChangeMotors, Ayden".

Ayden grinned, exuding cocky charm. He was now exactly what Sterling wanted—a confident, straight, carefree young man ready to take on the world with little more than swagger and good looks, while flexing inside the dealerships brand new cars and spreading his foul farts inside of them.

[kylestfs]

The Elevator Encounters

Oliver sighed as he stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor to his small appartment. It was late, and he was exhausted after the long work day he just had. As the elevator slowly made it's way up, he leaned against the wall and looked at his important work e-mails.

The elevator dinged at the first floor, he looked up.

The doors slid open, and in walked two figures, ones that Oliver specifically didn't want to share the elevator ride with - Young jocks. They were obviously going back from the gym, based on their clothes and the sweat gleaming off their muscular bodies, making the air filled with an overpowering scent of sweat, musk, and overall unpleasant raw masculinity. They grinned at him, but there was something off about their smiles, apart from the fact that they had yellowish teeth.

“Hey man, looking a little scrawny there,” one of them said with a chuckle, stepping closer.

Before Oliver could think about responding, the jock who made the highschool bully-like comment placed his hand on his shoulder, sending a shock through his body. His mind paused as his muscles tensed. He tried to speak, but his thoughts were suddenly slow, his words stumbling as the jock's voice seemed to echo in his head, while the funk coming from them was hypnotizing him more and more.

“You need to bulk up, bro,” the other one added, his deep voice reverberating through the small space.

As the jocks stared into his eyes, he felt his body waking up as his muscles weirdly tightened. His arms felt bigger, but not excessively huge as they swelled beneath his shirt and his biceps thickened. Oliver tried to fight it, to escape, but all he could do was watch as his veins pushed to the surface. His shoulders broadened, and his chest started to push outward, straining against the fabric of his shirt. His muscles grew in a lean/jock way, but not in a bodybuilder way.

“Yeah, that’s it… bigger, hotter,” the first jock whispered in his ear, his eyes locked onto the reflection in the mirror, watching his body slowly grow and change.

He couldn’t think— his mind was so slow and foggy, and all he could hear was the jocks’ voices, urging him to grow, to get bigger, to become more like them. His thoughts felt slower, dumber, but he didn’t care, he was becoming too stupid to care.

The elevator dinged again.

The doors opened to reveal another jock, less muscular than the last two but more defined and "twunk" like, He squeezed into the elevator with a smirk, his eyes immediately locking onto Oliver.

“Looks like you could use some help. You wanna be a fuckboy, right?” the new jock asked, his voice a low growl.

He nodded, unable to resist. He never signed up for this, or wanted it at all, but his body was already halfway through the transformation, and there was more to come.

“Good… real good. Let’s make you the fuckboy you were meant to be,” the jock said as his hand slid down to his neck.

The moment he touched his throat, his voice deepened, becoming more teenager ish but more commanding. He felt a surge of power wash over him, his thoughts slowing even further, reduced to slow, dumb and primal instincts. The scent of the jocks—raw, sweaty, alpha— kept filling his nose, clouding his mind even more.

The elevator stopped again.

Another jock, covered in a sheen of sweat, stepped in - his body radiating heat and power. He leaned against the elevator wall, smirking as he looked him up and down.

“Smell that, bro? That’s what a real man smells like,” he said, flexing his defined but lean biceps. “Let’s see if you can smell good like us.”

Oliver felt a weird sensation as his skin, already slick with sweat from his previous interactions, began to emit a stronger, smellier funk. But unlike the overwhelming, vomit-worthy stench he feared, it was more subtle—masculine and intense, and thankfully not unbearable. It lingered in the air, radiating from his body, especially from his pits, feet, and his butt. He noticed a hint of funk rising from his feet, which now felt way larger and heavier in his shoes. His armpits felt sticky with sweat, the hair becoming bushier, and his body gave off a natural stink that fit the dumb fuckboy he was turning into.

He could feel the sweat from his entire body drooling in his pits and lower back, as the ripe odor made itself known more and more. Occasionally, a deep rumble in his gut hinted at something else—an urge to release a primal, manly dominating stink from within. He felt the pressure but didn’t care, he released it, and felt the ripe air escaping his butt as his fart filled the elevator, making the other jocks proud of who Oliver became.

The jocks had finished their jobs and left the elevator, only 2 floors were left.

The elevator dinged once again

The doors opened to reveal a new group entering. This time, it wasn’t jocks. Three twinks stepped inside, their eyes fixing onto Oliver. They were all cute, 18 to 20 year olds and their slim physiques were as perfect as you'd imagine. As they entered, the air shifted. Their presence and vibe was different—calmer, cooler, but with a predatory edge of their own.

One of the twinks leaned in close, his perfect fingers brushing against Oliver’s chest. "You’re hot," he purred, "but we’re going to make sure you’re hot everywhere, babe."

Before Oliver could respond, one of the twinks bowed down in front of him, his fingers trailing along his thighs as he felt a sudden jolt in his lower half. His pants tightened, but this time not from muscle—his package was swelling, pressing hard against the fabric. He groaned, the sensation almost overwhelming, as his manhood shifted, growing thicker but not longer, it was becoming shorter. His dick ending at a short 3.9 inches, but very thick and veiny. The twink stood up, satisfied, brushing his fingers along Oliver’s bulge slowly while smirking.

"Now you’re packing like a real stud," he whispered with a smirk.

Another twink, standing behind him, traced his hand along Oliver’s broad back before settling on his rear. With a teasing squeeze, he murmured, “Let’s give you something that really stands out.”

Oliver gasped as his backside started to change. His ass filled out, growing firm and round, pushing against the tight fabric of his pants. His hips widened slightly, giving him a more defined, powerful stance. He could feel the weight of his new, perfectly sculpted butt, the kind that drew attention wherever he went.

The third twink, stepped in front of him. "But that face..." he said, lifting a hand to Oliver’s chiseled jawline, "it needs to be flawless. Let’s make you like, a real pretty boy."

As the twink’s fingers brushed against his face, Oliver’s features started to shift. His cheekbones lifted slightly, giving him a more youthful, angular look. His skin smoothed out, free of any imperfections. His lips plumped slightly, taking on a fuller, more kissable shape, while his eyes brightened, becoming sharper and more striking. He could feel his whole face rearranging into something undeniably hot, almost model-like, with a perfect mix of masculinity and beauty.

The twinks stepped back to admire their work. “Not done yet,” one of them murmured, reaching up to run his hand through Oliver’s hair. His curls were wild and unkempt from the transformation so far, but that was about to change. With a snap of his fingers, the twink adjusted Oliver’s hair, turning it into a sleek, styled cut that framed his new face perfectly. His hair shortened and cleaned up, still curly but with a deliberately messy yet stylish look, the kind that took no effort but looked flawless.

“Now you’re perfect,” the first twink said, admiring him from head to toe. Oliver glanced into the elevator’s mirror. His reflection was nearly unrecognizable—a mix of power, beauty, and primal masculinity. His muscles were large, but his proportions were refined. His face was sharp and stunning. His package strained against his pants, his ass round, firm and rock hard to the touch.

As the elevator continued to climb, the twinks circled him like vultures, admiring their creation. He was a masterpiece of both raw, primal strength and irresistible beauty—a perfect alpha, but with a twinkish touch of aesthetic perfection.

Oliver could barely think. His thoughts were slow and clouded, reduced to basic, primal urges. All he could feel was the overwhelming power coursing through his body, mixed with the vain satisfaction of his perfect looks. He flexed in the mirror, grinning dumbly as the elevator stopped, one last time.

The twinks left the elevator with Oliver, all going to his apartment for a little 'test drive'.

[kylestfs]

Hi. Is parking with cars still relevant? I urgently need a car to get to the airport, and the taxi service is full... Can I take Mercedes-Benz S-class? I hope I make it to the medical conference, otherwise my supervisor will kill me..

Conference ? Job? No, the only job you’ll ever be doing is asking your dad for more money and trying to hit on girls at expensive yatch clubs. Maybe you’ll impress them driving a brand new $150,000 car as your first car that your father obviously bought, or those nice watches and shoes?I guess that’s what makes you such a cocky, straight arrogant young preppy boy, right ?

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 18

Name : Sebastian

IQ : 80

Personality : Very annoying, just thinks money can make its way into everything - overall just dumb and not very connected with reality, thinks whoever isn’t rich doesn’t belong near him.

Sexuality : Straight, very straight.

Body :

Body type : Lean, sinewy body.

Overall attractiveness : 9.5/10.

Private’s size : 5 inches hard, but pretty thin which makes it look even smaller.

Rear end size : Perfectly round shaped rear, nice and full. Soft and smooth. Very nice to see bounce in pants and lovely to touch.

Overall B.O : 5/10 - Just smells mostly of cologne, but it’s very strong and sometimes annoying, with a slight sweaty funk underneath that mixes with the deodorant/cologne and becomes quite odorous.

Armpit scent : Pretty sweaty, and the smell is quite strong. Deodorants only mask the smell for about an hour before it starts making Itself known again.

Gassiness : 8/10, Those rich restaurants he goes to just make himself terribly gassy. The sounds are mostly hot, steamy puffs that smell of rotten eggs. He takes pride in them though and loves the smell, but that’s a little secret of his.

Foot smell : Quite smelly, smelling of rotten butter and cheese after a long day, and since he mostly wears expensive leather shoes the smell gets trapped in them and becomes very strong, almost repulsive.

Muscles : Lean/muscular body.

[kylestfs]

Biker Breath

Zane was riding home from work on his bicycle when he passed a pile of stuff sitting on the curb with a sign attached saying “For Free”. Zane stopped to inspect what all was left out on the street and saw a super nice looking biker helmet, carefully picking it up he noticed some scratches and dings on the helmet but besides that it was still in perfect working condition. While he was examining it Zane noticed the rancid scent emanating out of the helmet. Holding his nose, Zane began to put the helmet back onto the curb when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his, it was a deeper, more masculine voice demanding him to put the helmet on. Wanting to resist, Zane set the helmet down and turned his back to it and the other stuff on the curb when the voice again demanded “Put on the helmet”, Zane was overcome with the need to put the helmet on. As he lifted the helmet up over his head Zane pleaded with the voice “Please…No…It reeks”. Feeling the voice command him to lower the helmet on his head, Zane’s mind and body obediently obeyed as he lost control of both. Upon lowering the helmet onto his head Zane could smell the reeking stench of the helmet. It reeked of sweat and B.O., the previous owner had obviously never even attempted to clean it.

Regaining consciousness and control of his body, Zane tried to take the helmet off, but quickly he heard the voice command “Breath in deep wimp” Zane once again obediently followed orders and took in a deep whiff of the helmet’s noxious stench. Zane would have normally been disgusted but he wasn’t, in fact he loved the rancid stench of sweat trapped in the helmet. Zane heard another command echo through his head, “Get on your puny bike loser”. Zane sat on his metal bicycle and began to pedal away. With every pedal, he bike became more akin to what a real man would ride. It slowly transformed into a fast and slick motorcycle.

Zane revved the bike instinctually and he felt his dick shoot to life at the same time, it was weird, Zane never was interested in motorcycles but his body was aching for more. Zane’s puny body was sitting atop a nice expensive motorcycle now but his body and face were still that of a wimpy nerd. That was soon to change, the voice started describing what a biker boy should be like. “Biker boys are unhygienic beasts who never wear deodorant, shower once a week, and never brush their teeth, all of that is for weak pussies” Zane could suddenly remember why the helmet smelled so bad, it was HIS stench that was infused into the helmet. Zane breathed in another deep whiff of the stink HE cultivated and let out a pleasurable sigh, breathing out a torrent of funky smelling breath, Zane added to the stench and made himself more loopy. Feeling his weak body get light and tingly Zane kept riding his newly minted motorcycle, he stopped at a red light and looked over at the car next to him, “Had I always had such big muscles?” Zane thought to himself as he saw his reflection in the car’s window. “No…can’t be I…” he took a breath in and inhaled more of his noxious B.O. and bad breath, “…I have always been this buff duhhh” Zane pulled off and sped home away from the stop light. Arriving home his brother was getting out of his car in the driveway, pulling up was surprised when he saw the man on the motorcycle, he looked like a stranger to him. “Hey man I think you got the wrong address” Zane’s brother told the now insanely ripped Zane, “Whatchu mean bro this my crashpad!” Zane said loudly. “Nah my brother lives here with me and my dad not you” Zanes brother remarked. Zane got off his bike and walked up to his little bro, “Heeeeeeeeeeey man chillax…no need to get your pantiessssss in a bunch” Zane drew out certain syllables on words so that he could breathe out his nasty breath that smelled like he had just eaten garlic, and fish, and hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Zane’s brother’s eyes glazed over upon smelling his older brother’s stale and stinky breath, “Oh hey bro welcome home” Zane reached an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they walked to the house together. “Yeaaaaaaahhh you love your big bro’s stinking breath dont cha lil man” Zane laughed and purposely let out a blast of his funky breath into his brother’s face, “Yea…bro I- I love how…stinky…your breath i- is…I wish I was m-more like you”His brother said mindlessly as if in a trance. “Well in that case lil bro I wanna take you on a ride tonight okay? You can wear my helmet I jusssssst got it” Zane breathed out more of his rank breath while he spoke. “Yea…uhh like…totally bro…” His lil bro responded not knowing that the ride would seal his fate just how his brother’s was.

[kylestfs]

Room 214

Albert Summers had been driving for hours, he was absolutely exhausted and needed to stop somewhere. At 45, he didn’t have the ability to drive as much as he did before. He found a nice Motel on the side of the highway. It wasn't much, but it would do for the night.

As he went to check in, the receptionist said

"Room 214, sleep well” as she handed him the keys.

Walking upstairs, Albert dragged his suitcase to the hallway, which was dimly lit as he found his room and unlocked the door. He found a standard hotel room, with a bed, a small desk, a chair and…a pile of dirty looking clothes in the corner, obviously left by the previous occupant of room 214.

His first thought was to return them to the lobby, but as he grabbed them to do so, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust…the pile contained socks, a weird looking underwear which he’d later find to be a jockstrap, tight gym shorts and a stained shirt which were all unwashed and absolutely filthy. They smelled so bad they stunk up the entire room and left a weird aura.

Albert decided to call a hotel receptionist to get rid of the clothes, and almost immediately heard knocking on the door. Opening it, he found a huge 6’2 young man with bulging muscles, wearing similar clothes to the ones left in the room. The man also smelled the same as the clothes, but Albert wasn’t sure if it was coming from the room or the jock. Before he could say anything, the jock engaged.

“Yo man, I’m Andrew, lemme check on these for you.”

He said, with a confident and lowkey dumb tone. The jock. entered the room and looked at the clothes, confused.

“Bro, these are yours!” Andrew said, leaving Albert confused.

“No they’re not! They were here when I came in, and you can tell I obviously wouldn’t even fit in them”

Andrew smirked then replied “Nah man, those are definetly yours…you wore them for a week straight.”

“What? No t-“

Before Albert could finish his sentence, Andrew shoved the smelly shirt directly on his face.

The pungent, musky odor filled his nostrils, making his eyes water. Albert tried to pull away, but Andrew's grip was obviously really strong, he just got a glimpse of his bulging muscles as he kept the shirt on him.

"Breathe it in, man. Really take it in," Andrew commanded, his voice low and hypnotic.

Albert felt a weird feeling he needed to obey him, and he did. He inhaled deeply, the overpowering scent clouding his mind as he started feeling a tingling sensation spreading through his body. His mind started to feel foggy, his thoughts slowing down.

"See? Starting to remember now, huh? That’s my boy!" Andrew said, his tone almost teasing.

Andrew now lowered the shirt with his left hand and took a sock with his right one, then held it to Albert's face.

"Smell this one. It's yours, dude."

He said, shoving it deeper in Albert’s nose, making the foot funk absolutely vomit worthy and making him unable to think straight, but he found himself leaning in, taking another deep breath. The smell was even stronger, more intense. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His body felt hot, his skin prickling with heat and starting to become mattered with sweat.

Andrew's voice became a steady rhythm, guiding Albert deeper into the haze. "You love that smell, don't you?

It's who you are. You're a jock, bro. Just like me."

Albert's resistance was fading. He nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over.

The words were starting to make sense, the truth sinking into his mind permanently.

"Yeah, you get it. Now, check this out."

Andrew lifted his own arm, exposing his hairy, sweat mattered armpit. The smell was overwhelming, a mix of musk and sweat that filled the room and showed an obvious lack of any kind of hygiene.

"Take a whiff, man. Smell what it's like to be a real jock."

Albert leaned in, almost involuntarily, and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating, filling his lungs and clouding his thoughts completely. His body began to change, muscles swelling, skin tightening. His clothes felt tight as his frame grew larger, more muscular.

His feet lengthened, filling out his shoes until they felt snug. The odor from his feet mingled with the room, becoming a powerful mix of French cheese, melted butter and salty sweat. His height shot up, now matching Andrew's at 6'2". His rear became a firm, round bubble butt, perfect in its shape and size, making his shorts stretch and almost snap. His digestive system took a turn as it was now ready to sprout gas every 5 minutes or so.

As his transformation continued, his thoughts became simpler, focused on physical desires and sensations. His IQ dropped, his mind becoming that of a dumb jock, carefree and confident. His age quickly regressed, reaching 20 years old. His skin becoming smooth and youthful.

"Bro, you're looking sick," Andrew said, grinning.

"Now, flex for me. Let's see those muscles."

Albert-now fully Parker flexed his new, bulging biceps, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Hell yeah dude”

His personality had shifted completely.

He was loud, arrogant, and loved his new body. His pits were hairy and strong-smelling, his face chiseled and handsome. His breath was hot and slightly stale, a testament to his new careless attitude towards hygiene as he brushed his teeth less frequently, adding to his raw, primal appeal.

Sexuality was no longer a question. He was 100% straight, but was also was irresistibly drawn to his own body, admiring his muscles, his scent, and his raw masculinity. His kinks emerged quickly-enjoying his own smell, flexing in the mirror, and reveling in his own farts. His package was impressive, soft at 10 cm and swelling to 20 cm, with fat hairy balls underneath, barely fitting in regular underwear’s.

Andrew clapped him on the back, the sound echoing in the room. "Welcome back to the team, bro. Let's hit the gym tomorrow and show off those gains."

Parker laughed, a deep, hearty sound.

"You got it, man.” Then sprouted a massive fart that Andrew couldn’t help but sniff.

As they left the room and walked down the hallway, the scent of sweat, dirty feet and farts was trailing behind them, soon to be smelled by all kinds of chicks who’ll spend the night at room 214.

[kylestfs]

I'm totally interested in the Nissan Sentra! It may not be the fanciest car on the lot, but it reminds me of the first car I was (or, my parents) ever able to afford when I first got my license nearly two decades ago. Call it the nostalgia factor, but that's the one I'll choose!

Oh wow! Look who just got their first car ever as a birthday gift for your sweet 20 🎂! after failing their drivers test twice like a typical bottom driver.

I mean, I don’t really know why you’d lie and say you got your first car two decades ago, but twinks aren’t really meant to be smart, nor are they known to be the best drivers, but I’m sure you’ll take care of it. It’s a small, compact and very cute car ! Just like you actually, it fits you very well. What I’m sure though is that it won’t smell the best inside, you do have some pretty bad gas and foot smell issues, but that’s totally fine, a cute little air freshener could help it all. Drive safe and go pick up your friends to go to starbies now!

Identity ;

Name : James

Age : Just freshly turned 20 ! Happy birthday, some people say your teenage years are over yet I still see you scrolling on TikTok all day, hanging out to Starbucks with your friends and sometimes skipping showers and brushing your teeth, and all the birthday cake you ate is definitely gonna do wonders to your gas…

IQ : 87, youre under average but still not so dumb. You can hold good conversations and be very sweet and understanding of others.

Personality : Fun, very nice and empathetic, a bit flamboyant and overall cute and friendly! It’s a pleasure to be around you, although you can get a little judgy with your friends, it’s just for fun!

Sexuality : 100% Homosexual. No questions here.

Body :

Body type : Twinky and skinny

Overall attractiveness : 10/10, or should I say overall cuteness! So adorable and cute.

Package size : 3 inches active, 1 inch soft. Although it isn’t big, you won’t really need it so it’s fine. At least it fits comfortably in your pants.

Rear end size : Small, a little flat but still cute and soft ! Your pants just don’t even cover it, it isn’t visible at all, which is kinda adorable as well!

Overall B.O : 6.5/10, You can definetly get a little sweaty when it’s hot as you live in Florida, and your dove deodorants don’t always hide the smell. Your pits can smell a bit like a sharp and salty sweat, while your feet will smell like melted butter. I’d say you smelliest area is definetly your feet, without speaking about your gas of course.

Gassiness : 9/10, Those Florida fast-foods you’re eating definetly have an effect on your gas…you fart a lot and can’t really control it. Thankfully they’re all mostly quiet puffs, but they still do smell of musty scrambled eggs and sulfur. You are embarrassed each time you let one out, but you also love the sensation of the hot steamy air escaping your little buns, and somewhat love to smell your own gas when you’re home alone. That’s just your little secret though.

Muscles : You’re quite bony, but it’s just so adorable and perfectly fits your friendly vibe, and I wouldn’t change that for anything!!

[kylestfs]

Can I get the Dodge Charger, I feel that whatever I get it’s going to be hot asf

You pull up to my parking lot in your newly acquired charger. As you arrive, you take a look at some troublemakers flexing their high horsepower cars and motorcycles…mostly jocks and bikers. You step out of the vehicle just to find a strong need for you to have authority over them, and to go make them pay for what they’re doing. As you walk towards them, each step causes your lanky body to turn into a bulky, hot young cop. Your charger gains new light bars and the word « POLICE » written on both sides. Each step also makes your new foot funk escape of your big police boots. You immediately put a hot biker in your police cruiser, and start hotboxing him…feeling the need to release all the pressure and farting in the car to make him PAY and to make him OBEY. Your farts are loud, like actual thunder and smell rancid. They’re super hot and steamy, and feel so good when they come out of your butt….theyre also getting trapped into the biker’s helmet…to make him OBEY authorities forever and making his helmet smell like your fart fumes for the rest of his bike rides.

Age : 28

Name: Jim

1Q: 110

Personality: Very dominant and only wants to spread his farts on lawbreakers. Overall just masculine and feels the need to tell people how strong and powerful he is.

Sexuality : 100% straight, and very needy…

Body type: Pretty stock, not overly muscular but lean and strong. Gorgeous Stallion body,

Overall attractiveness : 10/10

Private's size : 4 inches hard, you need to compensate by spreading your authority.

Rear end size: Big, strong stallion rear end, always stretches your police pants but stays very steady when you walk, showing a strong and firm, very hard butt.

Overall B.O: 9/10 (Strong, masculine young manly stink).

Armpit scent: Sweaty, salty, strong funk.

Overall B.O: 9/10 (Strong, masculine young manly stink).

Armpit scent: Very sweaty due to how heavy your police gear is, and smells excessively strong.

Gassiness: 8.5/10 - You were created to make people understand authority using your farts, either by shoving them directly in your big butt or just hotboxing them into your police cruiser until they pass out from the disgusting fumes.

Foot smell: Smells like a very strong and sharp French cheese, and extremely potent and smells rancid. You have multiple pair of your police boots because people at your station just cannot handle it.

Muscles: Strong sweaty horse muscles

As requested, I’m going to mention that this is a fictional story.

[kylestfs]

Hey, I would love to get the Tesla model X. Always been my dream to get a Tesla so appreciate your offer on giving cars for free. I'm from France so i hope it'll ok for the shipping and everything. How does it work by the way? I heard you needed a decscription of my body, guess to make sure it was really me you hand the car to. I'm french, 28 years old, always been single, pretty hairy body and some muscle definition (still working on it). Hope you have everything you need.

The Tesla model X…a typical influencer car for a typical influencer TikTok boy, always flexing your Los Angeles house that you share with all the other TikTok bros, dancing and lip-sincing for a living, and obviously…showing off your himbo body! Although you definetly don’t have the smarts, you’ve found the perfect job.

STATISTICS :

Identity :

Name : Blake

Age : 21

IQ : 65

Personality : Always flexing, hungry for attention and recognition, dumb, very childish and overall loud and annoying.

Sexuality : Bisexual

Body :

Body type : Himbo

Overall attractiveness : 8.5/10

Private’s size : 4 inches hard.

Rear end size : Big, fat, giggly and doughy buns, begging to be moved with different tiktok dances and trends, and obviously be filled.

Overall B.O : 6/10 - Not too strong, your pits do have quite a sweaty, unwashed smell. Same thing for your feet, but they’re not overly offensive. Just enough to be noticed when we get close to you, and to comment on why you don’t wear any deodorant. You obviously don’t even care, I mean, you do but you’re so dumb you always forget to even think about wearing any.

Gassiness : 8/10 - Always eating the infamous In-N-Out from California gets you very gassy, burps and farts included. Your gas smells rancid, like pure rotten eggs.

Muscles : 8/10 Nice, himbo-like muscles.

[kylestfs]

BMW M3 seems to be calling to me. Dunno why, never been a fan of driving, but there's something about this car...

Driving..driving…isn’t it more like joyriding? You’re a cocky, dumb hot car guy, obsessed with your F80 BMW M3 that you bought with your OnlyFans money, cutting off electric cars to show them what a real car is and how inferior other people are to you. How lucky ! To earn that much money…and of course to have this sex-beast body, made for dominating and filling every holes you see with your semen. Of course, your OnlyFans only contains you filling holes and never the other way around, and even if you wanted to be filled…your hole is so tight and made to not receive anything that you couldn’t! What a shame..or not? Your ass emits such foul scents no one would ever try to enter it anyway.

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 22

Name : Tyler

IQ : 70

Personality : Very masculine and assertive personality, always thinking you’re better than anyone else, for everything and anything. You flex and bully whenever you want, and don’t even question yourself about it.

Sexuality : 100% straight, and with an intelligence like yours, let’s say you’re not very accepting of other sexuality’s.

Body :

Body type : Jock bro.

Overall attractiveness : 10/10, so hot!

Private’s size : 8 inches hard.

Rear end size : Big, strong stallion rear end, very big and firm, stretches all your sweatpants to the brim. Surprisingly, your hole is made to never ever have anything enter it, only have things exit it. You’re made to be a dominant alpha after all.

Overall B.O : 9/10 (Strong, masculine young manly stink).

Armpit scent : Sweaty, salty, strong funk. You love to shove people in your pits to show them who’s the man, who’s the alpha and who they should respect.

Gassiness : 8.5/10 - You love bullying people with your farts, farting on them then telling them how you’re a real man and real boys should fart like you. But how is it possible to even have such smelly, disgusting farts ? Guess you have to be an actual alpha.

Foot smell : REALLY smelly. Dirty cheese, buttery flavour that sticks to your massive, veiny masculine feet and will not go away even after the deepest shower. Let me tell you that those gym shoes of yours can stink up an entire room with no problem, and make people vomit as well.

Muscles : Strong, gym-goer muscles.

[kylestfs]

Hey man — I’ll take the Porsche 911.

It reminds me of the ones I saw as a kid. Now that I’m a chubby 30-year-old guy, that all feels so far away!

Times have changed ! The new Porsche 911 is here, fitting perfectly for an overly confident boy who hasn’t hit the 25 year old mark yet. You certainly aren’t chubby, more like preppy and sexy if you ask me. Excessively cocky, very romantic, and very straight as well, with a gorgeous tan and a masculine attitude that will make everybody fall down at your feet.

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 23

Name : Valerio

IQ : 95

Personality : Very cocky, self centered with an absolutely massive ego.

Sexuality : Very, very straight. You love women, you love dominating, breeding and being SUPERIOR.

Body :

Body type : Lean, preppy old-money boy.

Overall attractiveness : 9/10 (you would’ve answered 20/10)

Private’s size : 6 inches hard, with a heavy, full set of balls hanging low under.

Rear end size : Round, firm, perfectly smooth and tanned.

Overall B.O : 6/10 (can have a bit of fun coming from your pits, but you mostly stink of heavy cologne.)

Armpit scent : Sweaty scent mixed with strong expensive cologne.

Gassiness : 8/10 - farts a lot, loves dominating women and make sure they know you’re superior using your foul gas.

Foot smell : Can be bad if you wear your shoes too long, and you also love dominating your partners using your big, preppy boy feet that sometimes have a very strong scent.

Muscles : Lean, muscular but mostly a « sleeper build. »

[kylestfs]

FYP Funk

Inspired by Anon Ask

Ezra had just gotten home from a long day at the gym and was scrolling on Tiktok and just relaxing on his couch. As he was scrolling past gym routines, movie clips, and scantily clad women showing lots of skin, he scrolled onto this weird video. It was a recording of a spiral that was taking up the entire screen, Ezra thought it was kinda weird for his FYP to show him that but he just kept on scrolling when a minutes later an almost identical video came up. After thinking to himself how weird it was he decided to keep scrolling. Yet again a few minutes later it popped up again, Ezra scrolled past but the video right after it was another hypnotic spiral. Aggressively scrolling, Ezra was being bombarded with more and more spiral videos, he was becoming increasingly frustrated and annoyed. He started to block the accounts that were producing such weird, garbage content.

Then all of a sudden as he scrolled again the video called him out by name, Ezra was shocked and felt the need to watch the video out of pure curiosity. The video repeated “Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral. Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral”. Feeling the desire to block the account begin to fade and his curiosity become benign, Ezra watched the spiral intensely. After a few minutes of the spiral and commands coming at Ezra the video commanded to Ezra, “Scroll”. Ezra dutifully followed the instructions and scrolled to the next Tiktok. He watched as a pink spiral illuminated his screen, he went to compulsively scroll past when the video began saying “Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron. Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron.” and it just kept saying it over and over. Ezra immediately began listening to the simple yet for some reason captivating commands directed at him for minutes on end. Not only did he listen but he also felt it changing him. He felt suddenly like he had gotten up way too fast, his head felt like it was spinning and he felt a little light headed and woozy. At first he thought nothing of it but then he heard the video go through its list commands one more time and suddenly he couldn’t remember what day or even what month it was. Ezra felt as his recent thoughts began to be sucked out of his brain, he completely forgot that his FYP isn’t normally all spirals, he forgot that he thought the videos were strange, he forgot everything he had currently floating around in his mind. Then it began to impact more cemented thoughts and knowledge, Ezra couldn’t seem to remember what he liked doing, who his friends were, his gym routine, etc. He couldn’t remember anything he had learned in middle school, high school, even college, it was all being vacuumed out of his brain. His mouth slowly hung open and he started to drool a little, without his mind fully intact he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The hue of his eyes began to dull and they glossed over and made it perfectly obvious that behind those eyes there was not a thought in his head.

Ezra got to the end of the video when yet again it commanded him to scroll, the next video he scrolled to had a blue spiral taking over the screen. This video began to say “Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny. Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny.”. It felt like his body was deflating. His big muscles began to shrink and shrivel away to almost nothing compared to what he had. He still had some muscle and meat on his bones, but he wasn’t going to be doing much heavy lifting anymore. He also lost a few inches in two ways, he began to feel himself compress down losing a solid 10 inches. He went from a decent 6’3 to short king status sitting at 5’5 on a good day. His dick began to undergo the same shrinking transformation losing half of what his height lost. Ezra went from having an 8” yogurt slinger to a small 3” wiener. Sure it could please someone but he was not going to be destroying anyone or anything with those 3 inches. Ezra was left as a scrawny twinkish version of himself, the only part of him that retained the same muscle mass as before was his plump ass. Perfect for being pounded.

The video concluded and told him one more “Scroll” and the brainless twink obediently did as he was told. Scrolling to the next Tiktok Ezra was met this time with a green spiral. As it captured his vulnerable mind it began to command “Ezra, you love to fart. Ezra you love the stench of rancid flatulence. Ezra, you need the smell of your own funky ass to be happy”. Ezra immediately let out a silent but deadly fart, and then the commands were repeated, and Ezra let out a just as rancid but more audible fart. As the commands were repeated over and over again he began to let out stinkier and more boisterous farts. “pffft” was all that Ezra could muster up in the beginning but by the end of the video the scent in his room was absolutely rank and the sound of his farts echoed throughout the room. The video ended and told him to scroll, the next video was just a normal video of a gym bro thirst trapping.

Suddenly he got a notification from Grindr, and then another and another. He went to respond and found matches galore. He thought to himself “I don’t like guys…” but he couldn’t get a more complex thought out because he was interrupted by his own bottom “PPPPPFFFFBBBBTTTTTT” He breathed in his repulsive ass vapors and looked back at his phone, “heheh he’s hot…really *pffft* uhhh hot…” his brain was being fried even more by his own stink and he didn’t mind one bit, his own farts turned his preference for petite blondes into a preference for big, dominant men.

He ended up having a guy come over that night and became the guys own personal farty fucktoy. The hunk manhandled Ezra all night but Ezra loved being a submissive little twink for him.

[kylestfs]

I will take the Ford F-150. I figured I could use a lot of power in my life even though I might look small driving it due to my size and nerdy build.

What do you mean you might look small driving it? That’s not true, you look like a fine strong manly redneck/country boy to me. One thing that’s true though, is the rumor…saying that when driving such a vehicle, you’re trying to compensate for something…but that’s fine! At least you own a truck, right bro?

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 20

Name : Cody

IQ : 69

Personality : Excessively dumb, very stupid and full of himself, focusing on being a real man and doing « real man » stuff.

Sexuality : 100% straight, and you certainly don’t appreciate those « fairies » or « skittles » as you call them.

Body :

Body type : Toned, lean country boy. Strong.

Overall attractiveness : 8/10.

Private’s size : 3.5 inches hard. (You certainly needed a pickup truck to conpensate for that, good choice! 🔑)

Rear end size : It’s very big and large, shame it will never get used, because although it’s very firm…its a top’s ideal butt.

Overall B.O : 7.5/10 : Strong, smelling of farm, rotten hay, horse farts…like a real man, as you’d say.

Armpit scent : Smells like rotten hay, mixed with sweat and overall dirtiness. You’ve never used deodorant and never will, that’s for prissy people!

Gassiness : 10/10, as bad as the horses in your farm’s stable! Loud, obnoxious, smelly, and way too frequent ! At least one every 10 minutes, and you certainly let it rip, you’d never hold one in.

Foot smell : Smells horrible! Those cowboy boots of yours just stink of everything you’d think of…not in a good way. But obviously, you only shower once you get mud on you or anything, otherwise you just don’t care or even think about it.

Muscles : Lean, strong and toned. Shows what a real man is supposed to be!

[kylestfs]

Think I’m gonna take this Kawasaki Ninja. I know nothing about bikes - seems kinda dumb, but this one looks pretty sick. I can probably handle it, even with my twunky body.

Know nothing about bikes…? « Twunk »…? Yeah, none of that is true, and I have no idea where you got that from. Must’ve been a bad dream, you’ve literally always been absolutely obsessed with motorcycles, mechanics, cars….and you’ve always been straight as a pencil as well. Typical biker, all you want is to breed, dominate and be superior to others, and your body certainly helps with that. The constant sweat coming from your armpits, the horrendous funk emitting from your feet, filling your Nikes with a cheesy strench makes you a true alpha, and you’re full of that, although you don’t even care. You’re too dumb to realise that you smell, and you don’t care about anything except your motorcycle.

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 20

Name : Matt

IQ : 72.

Personality : Dumb, arrogant, childish and immature, dominant and bro-ish. Very annoying, loud, and obnoxious. Extremely and excessively egocentric and full of yourself.

Sexuality : Straight, but doesn’t mind filling a twink when your alpha instincts take over. All you want is a hole to fill, « no homo ». 100% top.

Body :

Body type : Jock bro & biker boy

Overall attractiveness : 10/10, absolute stud.

Private’s size : 7.5 inches hard.

Rear end size : Small, firm and closed hole, making sure you never use it for anything that’s not farting, and other things related.

Overall B.O : 9/10 (very strong, manly and sweaty smell.)

Armpit scent : Sweaty, salty, strong funk.

Gassiness : 10/10, can’t stop farting around your biker bros, the rotten egg smell getting stuck in your leathers, and making your entire body stink of fart scent.

Foot smell : Absolutely odiferous strench, smelling of rotten cheese, sweat and old socks. Your shoes smell even worse, as the smell keeps piling up, and you obviously never ever washed them, filthy biker boy.

Muscles : Strong, gym-goer muscles.

[kylestfs]

Starting something, finally !

Hey everybody - here to start a (small) series of short TFs, similar to my past airplane seat series.

(This will not be a long series, as I do not have enough time to post daily and have a lot of submissions, so I really apologise in advance if you do not get the chance to participate due to slots being taken)

Now for the subject ;

I’ve came up with an idea : a parking lot. I’ve put vehicles that you guys will choose from in order to be transformed into a new body. Each slot can and will only be used one, thus making it hard for everybody that will submit to get a story.

RULES :

Just pick the vehicle that you want, add a little text (personalise it, but not precise or any specifications on your future body. Only on your previous, actual one or other stuff) and send it to me in my Inbox!

For the people who don’t know a lot about cars & bikes, I’ve created a little sum-up.

CARS :

Ford F-150 : Big pickup-truck.

Nissan Sentra : Small, economical sedan.

Mercedes-Benz S-class : Big, luxurious prestigious sedan.

Ford Mustang : Sporty, powerful American coupe.

Chevrolet Tahoe : Big SUV…with a little twist.

BMW M3 : Sporty, sleek sedan.

Tesla model X : Big, electric full-of-tech SUV.

Toyota Camry : Midsize, average sedan.

Dodge charger : Powerful Sedan. (With a twist)

Porsche 911 : Sporty, luxurious coupe.

Toyota Prius : Hybrid economical small sedan.

MOTORCYCLES :

Kawasaki Ninja : Powerful sports bike

BMW GS : Big, touring motorcycle (long trips)

Yamaha R1 : Excessively quick sporty motorcycle.

Yamaha MT-07 : Average, sporty motorcycle.

EXTRA :

Trek bicycle : Expensive long distance professional bicycle.