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lalatumbsucklol · 7 hours ago

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You MUSK go to the Gym

Unmotivated, below average Matthew needs to get into shape and get his life together but will top jock Brandon be able to get him into shape. Of course he will and along the way he’ll transform him into a horny, musk obsessed dumb jock addicted to lifting and sucking his cock.

This was a commission story!! Currently have a few comm slots open feel free to DM me here on tumblr for more details!! Comms open!

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Maybe it was just another passing phase in a long list of passing phases. Maybe it was because one of my friends sent me a voucher for a free trial period and I couldn't pass up a deal, or maybe it was because every review on this guy’s page on the gyms site were four to five stars that all raved about gains and results. It was the best on the site which only made the choice more clear.

It wasn’t exactly my first time trying to get fit or be healthy, I had done this song and dance my entire adult life. I wanted the end result, looking hot, being strong and muscular and maybe even a little healthy I guess. But I just didn’t have that drive or motivation other guys did, so those attempts always ended when things got too hard or I thought I wasn’t seeing any real results. It also didn’t help that I just lacked the confidence to really do it, to go in the gym and ignore this paranoia that others were observing me when everyone literally told me otherwise. This time my expectations weren't high and I just had to be okay with that because what did I have to lose other than my dignity right?

I was going to work out and if I didn’t like it, if the guy was some big smelly brute douchebag I could just ghost him after the first session and say I tried. So I got ready, shaved off my body hair, took an extra long shower and made myself as clean as possible for a good first impression. The problem came when I dug through my closet and dresser, only finding some old athletic shorts and a t-shirt I didn’t care about that were appropriate for a workout. The gym wasn’t that far so I thought I’d impress myself with a walk there, the breeze on my skin encouraging me on till I walked through the doors where new years resolutions died and gym rats were born. I was on time, and for me on time was early, being there and being ready meant a lot to me.

The atmosphere screamed franchise gym, the entrance filled with branding and the desk, sleek, clean and kept to code with what I’d call gym barbie waiting on people to show them her ID or sign up for a plan they would never be able to cancel in their entire life time unless they gave up their first born AND went on a quest to destroy the one ring. Before I even approached she waved at me, the doors signalling my arrival, her voice high and happy as the smile of truly evil bureaucracy ate my soul.

“Hey, welcome to Galaxy Fitness, how can I help you today?! First time member?” She asks, it wasn’t a read or a dig, at least I dont think…sarah yeah that's what her nametag said, could even if she wanted to. I was very much not the type to show up here and she probably had regulars consistently. So I pull up my phone, the voucher already waiting as its unlocked, trying to minimize as much small talk as possible.

“I’m here for the free trial with Brandon? Do you know if he’s in!” If I had paid more attention to Sarah or maybe even just had enough confidence to look her in the eye I would have noticed her expression, her smile became a smirk like she knew something I didn’t. I maybe would have thought something of it and backed out, but I was already trying to focus elsewhere and distract my eyes.

“A client of Brandon’s, yeah he’s in, trust me you're in good hands! I’ve seen him do miracles” She says scanning the voucher and going in the door behind her to fetch him. I thought it was going to be more of a trial and tribulation with her, like maybe she would have talked my ear off or be rude but right off the bat she was on her way to get me what I want! Guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its blonde bimbo cover. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Its like the universe heard me, and its response was the loud slapping feet echoing across the floor. A lumbering figure casted in shadows from the overhead light, accentuating his gorgeous muscles but hiding his face made his way over. Each step showcased a swagger in his stride, his legs pushed to the side by the size of a bulge in pants that left little to the imagination. His chest was almost fully out, pillowey pecs that ate away a gymshark tank for breakfast. His arms were corded muscle incarnate with his traps and shoulders creating this domineering silhouette. With the body hair that easily came out looking like a full pelt of fur, he was the definition of mouthwatering even if I wouldn’t admit it outloud.

My own mouth hung open, drips of drool spilling over, and my own dick betraying me, becoming harder, tenting my pants as the mountain of a man I could only assume was Brandon made his way over to me. Towering my average frame and putting into perspective for me, what a man really looked like. I couldn’t help but feel this immediate submissive streak in me flare up, desperate to fully give into carnal urges, gawk openly at his muscles and worship them. He was every man I fantasized about as a strict bottom and even if I wouldn’t completely admit it, I wanted to be. Even from a distance I could start to smell this distinct musk circling the room, coming from him. Just a small smell was like a hit of poppers, my whole body tensing as a tiny PULSE ran through me.

It wasn’t long before he was right in front of me, it was clear that this man entered the room pecs first, with a cocky gym bro smirk permanently carved across his face that only accentuated his chiseled jaw that was only slightly hidden behind stubble. Before he even spoke to me I felt light headed just being near him, his -stench- MUSK was overwhelming before he raised his pits, its scent wafting into my nose and making my eyes water. This was going to be a long session but it was too late to back out now, he was here and his voice soon sent shivers down my spine. I was

“Yo, you must be Matt dude, I saw your scheduled appointment last night!” He says shortening my name in a way I despised as he raised his arms slightly up exposing his pits and sending a blast. My own perception of myself was way too serious and uptight, and I knew that which only made it worse when people tried to change it. If I wanted to be Matt, I’d be Matt, but how could I tell this meat headed giant this without losing my session or being tossed. Just go light hearted Matthew, everything will be fine! “It’s actually Matthew sorry, but yeah I'm here for my session and ready to get started!” It was a good correction, not a jab and it had an apology which softened the blow- GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD BRO! It was a loud and sudden intrusive thought, one that wouldn’t leave just an echo repeating that got louder and louder.

“It's all good Bro, I’ll remember to call you Matthew Matt!” He laughs clapping me on the shoulder, his arm wrapping around my neck as he starts walking me along to one of the adjacent rooms to the main facility. His sweat sinking into me slowly, drenching my neckline as his footsteps made his muscles jiggle up and down, my face close enough to his pecs to feel them against my cheek. I had to adjust myself, just being near Brandon was making me horny and if I didn’t move my cock around everyone would see me leaking into my own shorts. “We’ll get you started by weighing and measuring you where you're at so we can see what we're working with!” Patting me on the shoulder one last time before we enter what is probably the closest thing he has to an office.

“So this is pretty standard to begin with? Just weighing and measuring-” Before I can even finish he takes control of the conversation. “Yeah Bro, it's all standard- and we’ll also be talking about goals, about what you want to get out of all of this.” The scale is right infont of me and on the wall across is a height chart. The entire room gives me flashbacks to P.E. and physicals and I can’t help but shrink into myself, my hands feeling my love handles and my shoulders slouching. I let out a sigh and breathe in deep getting ready to feel discouraged when that same lightheaded feeling hits me- FUCK THAT BRO LETS GET TO IT. my brain screams. I try to shake it off, where is that coming - GET OUT OF YOUR OWN HEAD. I just had to get on that scale, and stop being so fucking anxious man. This was just the start and I could only go up from here especially with my man Brandon. My man Brandon? I don’t even kno- NUT UP AND SHUT UP BRO! It was just a scale and some measurements I could get through that were no problem.

Even though I was reconciling with myself, committing to this, Brandon saw my apprehension, lowering his clipboard to the table he lifts up his arm, exposing his rank, sweaty wet pits from his earlier training, tensing and flexing his bicep. The rhythm relaxing my mind makes me want to follow it, my heart beat and breathing pattern starting to mimic it. Making me breathe more and more of his musk in. The world, my worries, all fully gone.

“Like listen BRO, no matter what the numbers say were gonna get you leavin here lookin swole as fuck, thats a Brandon Guarantee!” He says motioning to the scale before doing a quick bicep flex, his pit immediately exposed to me unleashing a wave of MUSK. My nose was used to it at this point, taking in his scent, no urge to cover it or hide, just sniff deeper, letting it corrupt and corrode my brain to the point of pure acceptance and submission. My eyes roamed his muscles and his sweat soaked body, unable to stop myself from zoning out and submitting to his stern voice or his hands manhandling me into place.

“It's all just about the mindset BRO. We're gonna get you all set, nice starting weight. Going to be a great start for you to build muscle and get you nice and BIG, MATTY!” That name rings in my head. I try to correct him but it just makes so much sense to just let him speak, let him be right, listen, obey. Matthew was so stuck up, being matty could be nice.

“Okay lets see about your measurements, not much we can do with the height Bro..” Brandon says His hands are going across my chest, the measuring tape acting like a restraint as he takes notes and moves it around my form. His sweat soaks my shirt before he pulls away, and I nearly try to follow his hands, wanting that warmth, that sweat that stinks to stay but what's worse is his face looking disappointed. “Bro I'm gonna need you to take this off, can’t work like this.” I don't even question it, to get his hands back on I’d do anything, taking the shirt off didn't even trigger my anxiety all I wanted was his approval. And his hands.

He gave me direction and I followed, his arms moved to get all my measurements down, and at some point the tape was gone and it was just his hands. Tracing across my chest, drawing on me with his sweat and musk till every inch was massaged, groped and covered. They started drifting, his arms draping over my shoulders as he covered my back before drifting under my pits. He paid extra attention around there, covering up my natural scent, replacing it with his own and encouraging it to produce Brandon's musk. There it was, all of it seeping into my skin, making me more obedient, more susceptible as my body, my mind gave in. Letting him care and basically worship my body with his hands, feeling the potential it had within.

“There you go Bro, All settled, all ready, no more complaints, no more thoughts, just my musk, and my voice!” he says circling me like a shark, his voice speaking truth and only truth. His potent, STALE aroma taking over anything and everything I had left till it was just him and the high of taking in his musk, getting addicted to it. Overwhelming my senses, making it impossible to tell reality from fiction.

“Now Matt, we're gonna do basic workouts today, and each exercise, each rep is going to get you so amped Bro, you're going to memorize proper form and do exactly as I say?” He says making eye contact with me, his voice commanding more than asking.

“Yes Brandon, I’ll memoriiiize proper form and do exactly as you say!” I managed to droll out, feeling good confirming that I understood.

“Not, Brandon Bro, You're gonna only be able to call me BRO from now on, do you understand!” He says slapping me on the ass, eliciting a moan from me as I feel it recoil.

“Understood BRO, only call you BROO!” he gives my ass another swat, a connection in my mind forming that obedience is pleasure, and the more I obey my Bro the better it will feel.

I watch him step back and strike a few poses, each one showing off a different muscle group. Flexing for me, burning the images of them in my mind as he did a double bicep pose, his arms became mountains, his traps flaring making him look larger than life. His pecs popping, with my eyes following each one up and down. Bro had a mastery over individual muscle groups “This is what you crave right Bro, this is what you want to look like?!” He asks me, no Bro is never asking, he’s telling, cementing his words in my head making them the truth.

It's just this time they were already the truth, I just wasn’t ready for it, and now its all I wanted.

“Yesss Bro! I crave muscle Bro, I need to look like that Bro!” My voice is so clear, so even with this, and Brandon takes note of it, its something to truly take root and it was time to branch out.

He got closer to me now, his body just in reach and he looked me up and down and commanded I touch his muscles, worship them, memorize the feel of each one. My eyes focused on them as my hands were guided by his voice. Starting with his chest, feeling the slabs of meat, no these were like pillows, my hands sinking into it, before they drifted down to his solid six pack, his waist tapering before expanding into his hips and legs. I try to slide my hands down to his bulge, this thin piece of mesh blocking me from my prize, it had to have been at least half hard by the size of it, the tiny gym shirts left nothing to my imagination because of the imprint of his shaft and cockhead, It was obscene, mouthwatering and made me just want to feel it, smell it, taste it. If he had put his hands on my shoulders and lightly pushed me down i would have fell to my knees and pulled his shorts down with my teeth, letting the monster out, and slapping me across my cheek smearing precum on my lips as the parted desperately—

He moved my hands to his arms, knocking me out of my horny fantasy, It was shocking to feel like you've fallen to the bottom of a trance only to feel yourself fall deeper all on your own without someone guiding you. The feeling of his bulging biceps and built triceps were sturdy, strong and before I knew what was happening, my mind focused on my fantasies, on his smell on his muscles, he had grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me into his Pit. Everything I smelt before, every bit of man musk was nothing compared to the source.

I couldn’t stop myself from diving deeper, my eyes rolling, tongue fighting its way out of my lips to begin lapping and worshiping his pits, getting more and more of him into me. His deep and resonant moans egged me on as I felt his hand rest gently against the back of my head, holding my hair for extra leverage. What I couldn’t get with my tongue I felt smeared into my face, covering all of me with him, his smell and his sweat.

“Good Boy Bro, This will be your foundation, and to make sure it all sticks and you come back Bro, I want you to every time you smell my musk, every time you think about my muscles, my bulge, me, for you to get horny. And every time you get horny I want you to think about the gym, getting gains, and I want that to lead back to the musk and create a loop, an itch that only working out can satisfy. Do you understand me Bro?” His words rush through me, it was so much all at once that when he pulled me from his pit, all I could do was whine and moan. His words bounced around in my head over and over again.

“Come on Bro, say it, say what's gonna happen!” I tried to pull myself back to his pit, needing it again. My mouth had just tasted ambrosia and without it I was empty, nothing.

“Say it BRO, or I won’t let you have the other pit!” His voice is harsh and the very idea of being denied this slice of heaven sends aches up and down my spine.

“Br..Bro every time I smell your musk or think about your muscles or bulge I get horny, every time I get horny I will think about going to the gym, getting gains and every time I go to the gym i’ll think about your musk, my musk and it creates a cycle I can’t ignore, an itch I need scratched that only you can scratch. An itch only Working out can satisfy!” My eyes are gone, fully dilated, his musk is a drug I was addicted to, his words gospel and his muscles all I would ever want.

“Again louder this time BRO!!” His face was so close to mine, I could feel the heat, the passion, the strength.

“EVERYTIME I SMELL YOUR MUSK OR THINK OF YOUR MUSCLES AND BULGE I’LL GET HORNY, WHEN I GET HORNY I’LL NEED TO GO TO THE GYM AND EVERYTIME I GO TO THE GYM I’LL THINK AND SMELL YOUR MUSK AND GET HORNY OVER AND OVER AGAIN BRO!!” The words running out of my mouth, fully cemented fully true and Bro lets go of me and strikes a double bicep pose. Letting me claim my prize.

As soon as my head zooms down in there I feel it, his bicep, an overbearing power, flexing locking me into place. My face being hotboxed by his musk as I devolve into a horny, submissive slut for his muscle and musk. My hands wandering his body as I try to lick and lap away at his sweaty ripe pits.

After worshipping his pits and learning every crevice every taste of them I was fully out of it, in need of direction. Brandon did this snapping things with his hands and like—

Bro it was so much easier to think. All I had to do was lift and follow his orders, my mouth felt funny and everything that wasn’t learning how to do a bicep curl, tricep dips or a side lateral raise just wasn’t worth thinking about. Today was gonna be all about arms and shoulders to help me get nice and jacked like him. He told me how important it was that I learn proper form and he guided me with his thick, giant hands each time. I was getting to a point with the weights that it was becoming muscle memory, perfectly replicating what he showed me, taking it to heart.

Half way through i was getting hot the lights felt overbearing, a twinge of doubt and the desire to give up. But my Bro Brandon was the best, he saw this and lifted up his soaked tank and put me inside it. Mashing my face against his warm, smelly pecs with the tight fabric. My tongue couldn't help but quickly lick away at it, giving into some of my more carnal desires. Soon my worship made him bounce his pecs against me, the trance-like state I found myself in before returning with a vengeance I can’t ignore.

Every bounce was a surge of pleasure, as I began to motorboat my trainer. A part of me wanted to stop, I had done so much today but with each passing second I found it harder and harder to understand why I was being such a dumbass. My bro Brandon was just helping me out, encouraging me to be my best self. If he wanted me to feel the weight of his muscle titties against my face, move them up and down, and me to worship them, then that was the right move duh. I let myself fade into the pleasure and zone out till I found myself out of his shirt and back to working out.

Every rep I did after that for arm day my Bro Brandon gave me a quick Bro slap of encouragement to keep going. My ass jiggling from the swatt eliciting a moan of pleasure. After we were finished with the free weights he made me stand in front of the mirror and start posing, a tiny voice in the back of my head, some form of resistance that stood no chance, was screaming that I would never do this, that this was so out of character but with each pose I cared less and less about that and more about moulding my body to exactly what I wanted.

By the end of it we did some light running to get me nice and sweaty before heading out. It was probably the best session I had ever had and I let him know I would be bright and early tomorrow.

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When I got home I was too exhausted to shower, that's what I told myself. I got in bed and immediately fell asleep, my sweat soaked body drenching the bed, my new musk staining the covers sheets and pillows creating an environmental prison of BRODOM I would never be able to escape from. My dreams were echos of the session, things that were burned into my mind, playing like a slideshow, brandon flexing, words that I couldn’t consciously remember played on loop. The old me would have maybe labeled it a horny nightmare but to me it was paradise, my unconscious mouth drooling on the pillow thinking about my next hit of his musk, or getting to worship all of his strong, rank smell and muscles.

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Shit Shit Shit Bro, I didn't wake up when my alarm went off. Fuck I must be a bit out of it from yesterday. Before I can even jump out of bed it hits me like a freight train, this intoxicating scent coming from the bed. I feel my body tense while laying face down in the bed, my cock throbbing, leaking precum into my underwear, i cant help but grind into my bed. Starting a rut I never want to end, I feel myself take a deep inhale of the smell, feeling the heat and sweat on my body, it makes my brain light up, images of Brandon’s muscles, his bulge, the smell of him making me hornier and hornier, and the hornier I got the more I needed to get up, to go to the gym. My body was aching with need and I had to satisfy it. I don’t even think about showering or trying to shave. My first thought is jumping into my clothes, not caring that they were sweaty, not caring about how smelly I was or the obvious pre cum staining through onto my shorts I had to get to my bro.

While there isn’t magical growth on my arms as I rush out I do notice the soreness, but also this great feeling of strength in them. They look pumped still, bigger and more toned from the exercise then the unmentionable twigs they were before. Its something to step back and notice and appreciate. Except I had to get to my Bro, I needed my next fix.

The walk was faster today, and Sarah the receptionist waved me in immediately telling me he was in the back. Each step to him was like a jolt of pleasure. A step closer to release, my cock and balls jumping and tenting my shorts, leaving me with no dignity but I was beyond shame at this point.

“Wow bro, look who finally showed up! Hope you're ready for the legs today Matt!” he says mid pose his eyes staring right into my soul, his musk overtaking my mind again, yeah Matt was my name, loved when he called me that. I feel that dopey grin replace the desperation that had sewn itself to my face, the readiness to submit as I see those shiny, delicious pecs free from their fabric prison, waiting for me. My cock was right on the edge and I needed him to push me over. I find myself falling faster into that headspace before, his presence was frying what was left of my brain again and things got even slower as my eyes glazed over.

“Absolutely Bro, Can’t wait to feel the burn!” I says giving my quads and calves a quick flex. Brandon comes over and quickly gives my bulge a squeeze making me release a giant moan. “Yeah Good bro, so glad you understand!” As he palms my bulge I feel it, that stupid edge, I manage to moan into him begging him to let me come and he tells me to wait to hold off. To be a good Bro and I'll get everything I want and more. I don’t see anything wrong with this, its normal for bro’s to do this, to edge each other, thats always been normal.

The session is simple at first he checks my form when it comes to basic squats, aligning my back and feet correctly, egging me to go further. Its like a stamina test to see how many I can do and with the sweat dripping down my brow I only encourage myself to go past what I would have expected. I get through 10 reps of 30 and feel the burn. That look of pride on my bro’s face was such a fucking reward.

He takes me through a few new exercises afterward. I had never done RDL’s or Bulgarian Split squats but each time he corrects my form or shows me how to do it its burned in my mind. My glutes are on fire, my hamstrings are burning and it all feels good, that good feeling leads to me thinking about my cock, my rock hard cock, how it needs attention, how much attention it will get the buffer I get, how the buffer I get the more musky and sweaty I’ll be. Its so easy to lose my mind to that, just me, my bro, my cock and the gym. Doing what he wants because he knows what's best.

Its the Glute bridges that get me the most, how I'm positioned against the wall, Brandon’s massive yoked frame in front of me, his crotch basically almost eye level with me. Keeping me centered, waiting because hes just so close, close enough for me to just fall forward and nuzzle into it. But I don’t, my big bro brandon is in charge and I listen. It's just that when I start to wobble, to falter, Brandon does notice, and Brandon gets this wolfish grin on his face. One that means mischief, fun and domination.

From above me he leans over onto the wall, his body fully blocking my view of the surroundings and his massive bulge SLAPPING right into my face. That same intoxicating aroma from his pits hits me again but this time even stronger even from behind the fabric. My mind is telling this is accidental, that he didn't mean to do that, that he slipped, as he moves his bulge around my face the world goes blank. It's just me and the piece of meat on top of me. His heavy cock and balls rest across my nose and lips and as I open my mouth to breathe in, I inhale divinity, my lips gently kiss against mesh covered cum filled bull balls and I can't help but taste it.

It's the taste of man, of hard working sweat, with this salty undertone of precum and cum. I lap at it, not caring where I am, and this need, this desire to worship him over his pants keeps me firmly planted against the wall, my form perfect as I try and fit his entire bulge in my mouth. I don't know how long I've been like this. All I know is that when the world returns, when he leaves me my face is covered in his sweat, his pants are fully tented and my legs are on fire.

We take a quick water break and I can't help but feel this pulsing thrum through my body, i’m not thirsty for water, I'm thirsting for him. A part of me wants to feel bad that I did that to him, IN PUBLIC of all places but another part of me, this new louder, much bigger piece knows that was right.That what I did was service, was worship to my bro and his cock, and it felt better then anything, it made me horny and when i was horny, i wanted to work out and when i worked out, id get nice and musky which only made me hornier.

I had to finally venture into the locker room, the older version of me would have balked at this, the idea of venturing into here at all was an anxiety fest. Now though i had the confidence to really just relax enjoy myself and take my time. I needed to dry off though, it was so sweaty, mmhmm and hot and musky that I don't think I could do my last few workouts without accidentally slipping or falling.

Brandon was already in there, basically naked cooling himself off at the sink when I stopped in. “

“Was wondering when my lil Bro was gonna come on in to see where the fun really happens.” He says smiling so brightly it was infectious.

“Yeah no, I figured this was gonna be the place to really dry off before we start back up?” I asked, looking around, I didn't see any place for towels, and definitely wasn’t sure how to go about it any differently.

“Its all good bro, I got you covered.” Brandon pulls off the Jockstrap hes wearing through his shorts with ease. It almost feels like one of those only fan promo videos as he does it. His bulge swinging wildly. When its finally free its wet from my tongue bath earlier, but also from sweat, a delicious aroma of musk wafts from it. Brandon quickly pats himself down adding more musk to his well used jock before stuffing it down into my mouth.

The flavor sits on my tongue and I have to stop myself from cumming. The taste of precum and old cumstains drenching my mind in white. I feel Brandon led me out, telling me we were gonna do a quick detour on training that we would have a go at some chest exercises. Sitting me down at the bench press. He sets my form up, my arms at each side evenly placed. Its just when I looked up, jockstrap in my mouth, I saw directly up his shorts, his cock fully tenting them, his bull balls swinging, it was hard and veiny and delicious.

His cock balls were freely swing back and forth, back and forth like a pendulum, so easy to follow, so ebay to focus.

“Bro This is gonna be real easy okay, I’m gonna give you the rhythm to follow and every time you follow it your going to feel good and when you feel good, you’ll go deep, you’ll goblank and listen to me understand.” He said and I moaned in approval, my mouth unable to speak anything just swallow more and more of his sweat and musk. Starting to lift.

“Thats it Bro, you love this, you love coming to the gym!” His cock swinging, my eyes following, blank, receptive.

“You love training fucking hard, all Sweaty and musky, you love being all sweaty and musky!” His voice deeper, his cock getting harder, and harder.

“But what you love most, what gets you so hot, so horny, is serving your trainer, your Bro brandon who is more muscular and musky than you!” He repeats this over and over again, his words branding my mind, his cock oozing precum, building up an orgasm I wanted to feel now but I know was being denied to me for a reason. As soon as we finish them he gets me back on leg day routine, the jock in my mouth the entire time, like ti should be.

We ended on deadlifts, Brandon behind me, spotting me like any good bro. If i still had all of my cognitive abilities I would have questioned the positioning, his body just a bit to close to me, his hands wrapped around my waist like a belt, his crotch level with my ass, so close to pressing into it, all nine inches of that hard gymbro meat begging to fuck me. However I saw no problem with this, if I wussed out or the bar got too heavy I knew my Bro would snap to it grabbing it for me to keep me safe. We started light and easy, I had already sweated up a storm so there was no reason to risk pushing too hard on a dangerous/difficult exercise for a beginner. Before we began I took one last big deep breath in, inhaling mine and his stench, letting it guide me.

“That’s it, nice and slow lets go low yeah, get that ass low” His lips were right against my ear, his breath was hot. I could feel his hands dig in to me, keeping me steady as I slowly lowered myself down. Feeling his cock grind against my ass as I got to my lowest point.

“Okay now good, you're going to come up now, make sure to breathe and engage your core!” His words were so easy to follow, that deep bass reverberating in my head as I did what I was told. I could feel a tiny, small thrust into me, pressing his cock deeper into the middle of my cheeks as I got all the way up. Letting out a deep yell and moan as I did.

“Okay again Matty bro, you can do this! Let's get this started!” You could tell from his voice just how proud he was, and how horny. We repeated this for three reps of ten, each time edging each other slowly. I wanted to drop it at one point and lower my shorts but the way the musk made me want to keep going, that earthy scent giving me the drive to get built. I was so happy to just workout. I left the gym soaking wet in sweat swearing I was just going to shower when I got home. I don’t know when I got so good at lying to myself or being this dumb. I drifted off to sleep, mouth filled with Brandon’s sweat and precum, blissfully asleep and getting reconditioned

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I didnt even bother to set my alarm last night bro, there was like no point, Me and Brandon were just gonna be chillin out anyway. Him teaching me the ropes. It also meant I could spend a little bit more time breathin in my dope man stink, humping my bed feeling my cock beg to fuck something. Matty jr. I would have to wait tho man because I needed to keep a clear head. We got off when we got gains and that's just my Bro way man. At one point I flipped myself over and bed and had to jack it, teasing the head as I traced my finger around it and the shaft, watching the precum just ooze out of it. Taking a quick swab with my finger I brought it to my lips and just moaned. I couldn't wait to get the real thing but to do that I had to go to the gym. There was no point in putting on underwear today, I had totally ruined them with all my precum that I might as well just go commando.

I looked at the shorts I had worn from the day before and gave them a quick sniff, that same light headed feeling hit me. “Must still have some wear left in em” I think before pullin em on, it took an extra hop to get them over my ass. “Must just be the pump from yesterday” is all i can think, picking up a different shirt from my closet not caring much about it. Before I went on my run to the gym I looked at my reflection. Dopey grin, glassy eyes, chinstrap starting to form and just a genuine relaxed posture. I looked good enough to eat and I hoped my big bro Brandon would want a bite.

I didn't even say anything to Sarah when she buzzed me in, just a smile and nod! She seemed to know I was coming to, quickly telling me there was a protein shake Brandon got for me on the counter. I took it, thinking at the very least I should give it a try since my bro got it for me. If I was at all observant like I used to be, I would have been able to tell that that shaker was empty, I would have questioned it by how light it was but that doesn't matter really. Because walking my way to the back though I almost dropped it.

If I thought Brandon’s dickprint was obscene, looking at his ass when he was bent over got me going. My cock immediately went from half mast to ramrod straight. I couldn't help but bite my lip looking at it up and down. It was the perfect mix of muscle and fat, not just gym goals but something I would want to fuck so hard. Imagining myself underneath him while he holds onto my chest, his ass riding my cock bouncing up and down. His pillowey pecs in my face as he takes full control. Even in my fantasies of fucking him he was incharge and I couldn’t help it.

I feel that wave of musk hit me again, that heady, foggy feeling taking over, my brain frying again till nothing's left but a jock bro waiting to work out. “Fuuuuck Bro you got a permit for that dumptruck.” I say giving it a quick swat, my eyes watch as it hypnotically jiggles, the recoil insane on it.

Brandon can’t help but laugh, seeing how far I’ve come from clean cut, stuck up nerd to work out Bro, and today would be the day he cements it all even if I didn’t know it yet. “Nah bro but I definitely know how to back it up.” he says, thrusting himself back into me, its at that moment I lose a lot of my composure as my mesh covered cock hotdogs his cheeks. It all happens so fast, that edge I’d been on the last few days is long gone, I’ve been shoved off of it, an orgasm I couldn’t control that had built up, firing at all cylinders. I feel my past, my experiences, my old shower and skin care routine, my booksmarts all shoot out of my cock with three days of cum.

My hands reach out to him, grabbing onto his pecs from behind, feeling them up, worshipping them as I start to thrust into him, dry humping him like a moron. The old me, the me that was shooting into my pants and down my leg would be so embarrassed but the muscle musk loving me only cared about gains and getting off.

“Thats it, time to let go all the way, this is the last “FREE” session Bro, you ready for that.” He pulls himself up off the machine he was on. Backing his ass into me, wedging my incredibly sensitive and still hard cock there until he steps away. Once he’s standing fully in front of me I feel myself fall to my knees taking him all in.

“See Bro, you're almost done, you're almost my perfect lil Gym Bro, it's just one last lil step okay. One last step and you're on your way to be a real jockbro okay.” He says laughing slightly, tugging at his pants. Struggling to pull them down because of his thunder thighs. When he finally does he throws them behind me. My eyes focused on his black jockstrap, the musk radiating off that, wafting into my nose driving me crazy. I try to dive for it but he grabs my head.

With the smirk of a fox he lowers them and IMMEDIATELY i feel it slap me in my right cheek going over to my left. Smearing precum across my lips I can’t help myself from licking at it, tasting divinity. I try to follow after it but Bro is wagging it back and forth, keeping it away from me.

“God you should see the look on your face Matty, you look so fucking cock hungry i wonder if I” he doesn’t even say anything else. I feel another strong SLAP across the left side of my face, my eyes follow this giant fuckstick as he teases me, going all the way to the other side.

“God it's so hot when you chase after it, one more time let me see what this does!” I watch as he holds his cock with both hands lifting it up till its hovering over the middle of my face. Casting a shadow straight down the middle, I feel it, this moment of no return I could move out of the way, avoid it all but I submit, my eyes wide open looking up at Brandon as He drops his cock. My eyes cross as they try to track it, slapping hard against my skin, our sweat and the precum splashing everywhere. My mind was shattered into a million pieces.

“This is all so worth it. Okay bro Ready to be a part of the Galaxy Fitness family.” He pulls away and I moan, begging for whatever is to cum next. He holds onto both sides of my head, his cock right at my lips. He lightly presses against it, my mouth kissing it before slowly opening to welcome it in.

“Good, Now Take it!” He yells thrusting all the way in and down my throat, his hands holding the side of my face for leverage. I dont have any time to react, I don't have any time to even gag, just take it. Hard, Fast and Deliciously. It should have hurt, I shouldn’t have been so relaxed but I had to serve my trainer so I served him right. Letting him skull fuck me I feel his pubes brush and tickle against my nose, the arousing aroma fully blanking me as I feel myself cum hands free again.

“Yeah thats it almost!” He almost pulls all the way out, leaving just the tip in before plunging all the way in “God you feel so good bro, so tight, so warm!” His cock hitting me in the back of the throat again, down and filling me all the way. It leaves no room, no space, just cock, just muscle, JUST MUSK.

“Yeah, so close, gonna fuck you stupid, gonna fill you up with cum and thats all your gonna be lil.BRo!” he moans out going faster now, his balls slapping into my chin and neck. His hands gripping my hair.

“”All your. Gonna… BE is..MY LIL DUMB MUSCLE BRO!!” Each word was another thrust, another plunge, going harder and harder, I couldnt breathe, DIDNT NEED TO. All i needed was cock, all i needed was cum. All I needed was Muscle, Musk and to serve my Bro.

“Here it cums, SWALLOW ALL.OF.IT.BRO!” He moans out, smashing his pubes into my face and shooting, load after load of cum. Swallowing all of it, my stomach fills to the brim as I feel myself lose control again, having a third orgasm today, emptying out more space for him, for the gym, for this. No more past, no more worries, all my education gone, just this.

I loved going to the Gym

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

Text

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)

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

Text

"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.

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

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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.

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

Text

Headache

Felix couldn’t figure out where this massive headache had come from.

The day had started the same as everyday before. Got up at six, let the dog out, started brewing some coffee. At 27, Felix was at an age where he didn’t have to worry about morning pills but was concerned with accidentally pulling a muscle getting out of bed. Some stretching helped readjust his slightly overweight body, helping him wake up for the day. After a quick shower, feeding the dog, and getting dressed, he was out the door before seven.

Next was the bus stop, where Felix would find the usual neighbors. The same five people were always there for the 7:05 pickup, except today a newcomer had joined the crew. Some South American-looking jock who apparently liked to take up the entirety of the single bench. The regular five included Felix, Joe, Petey, Andrew, and Alex-

“OW!”

Felix braced his forehead in pain. What was he thinking about again? Oh right, the 7:05 usuals. Felix, José, Pedro, Andre, and Afonso. The new guy was apparently named Bruno, and he was already a disturbance to the amiability the five had created.

The jock was so big he took up all the space in the little shelter, and his headphones were blaring some loud EDM music. His skimpy attire suggested he was on his way to the gym, and his constant flirtations with the five men suggested his hormones were affected by the constant workouts.

Felix moved on, focusing on the bus. Came on time like it typically did. He always sat near the front, watching as the rest of his neighbors filed behind him. Because Bruno was new, he had yet to find his “assigned” spot, placing himself between José and Afonso. If Felix wasn’t in so much pain, he probably would have laughed at the memory of the scene. Bruno was manspreading so obnoxiously he’d forced José against the window and had Afonso halfway into the aisle. The two meeker men were-

“God!”

Again, Felix had to recapture his thoughts. The memory of the three in the seat. Right, it was comical. The three massive Brazilian jocks, all stacked against each other. It looked like they enjoyed it though. Felix remembered the disgust he’d felt at the sight of them all palming each other. He also remembered wishing they could get a room.

José got off at the next stop, and Afonso not long after. Pedro and Andre jumped ship together near the end of the route. They worked for two firms in the financial district, so they were headed in the same direction. Felix was surprised to see Bruno get off with them. He couldn’t think of a gym that was near this area. His eyes had followed the trio out the door and through the window, Bruno towering-

“Ai!”

Felix had to find some medicine! Anything that could offer some relief. But anyway…the three leaving the bus stop…yeah, that was it. Pedro, Andre, and Bruno, the three horny Brazilians dressed inappropriately for the weather. Their tight clothes easily displayed their bronzed skin and well-worked muscular forms, but the short shorts and tanks weren’t the best options for the frigid air. That’s why Felix had been watching them after all, surprised with their revealing clothing and brazen nature.

Felix had gotten off the bus, gone to work, and everything had gone like a typical work day. Nothing stood out. But he knew he had to run through everything if he wanted to find the culprit of the headache. He just had to get to the bottom of it. Like fast-forwarding through a movie, Felix began clicking through his day, recalling the memories as they flew by.

He’d had some meetings with his boss, cleared some documents off his desk, had a conversation with his secretary Tom about paper deliveries, ran into Bruno at lunch, Bruno proceeded to flirt with him, Felix began feeling up the jock's massive arms and stretching out his thick legs, he curled his own brown toes in eagerness as they made eye contact, he noticed the other man’s sparkling brown eyes and steel-cut jaw mimicked his own, began making out with the Brazilian stud.

Felix then flexed his brown muscles for Bruno, Bruno muttered “garanhão, garanhão,” over and over again, Bruno ran his meaty hand through Felix’s coiled hair and across his messy black stubble, Bruno shoved his other meaty hand into Felix’s tight office pants, Bruno fondled Felix’s brown pouch and whispering “sentir os bebés castanhos,” Bruno noticed the time and left Felix pent-up and agitated.

Felix then rushed back to his office, called Tom in to "discuss something," slammed the door behind his secretary as he ripped off their clothes, shoved his massive brown dick into Tom’s begging hole, began feeling up his own jockish Brazilian frame, gasped something incoherent in Portuguese, and dumped an insurmountable load into his secretary.

Felipe sighed. He just couldn’t figure out what would have caused this massive headache. The rest of the day went as usual. He’d grabbed his clothes, barely fitting into the blue tee and boxer shorts he pretended weren’t underwear. Felipe loved how they displayed his colossal pouch and voluptuous backside. The secretary Tom loved it too, having-

“Caramaba!”

The secretary Tomás loved it too, having spanked him on his way out. But after that, Felipe marched his way to the gym, seeing all the other Brazilian jocks already hard at work, either stretching their muscles or stretching out each other.

“Olá garanhão,” Bruno started in that deep, milky Portuguese that made Felipe’s pila throb. “Everything alright?”

“Não sei,” Felipe replied in his own dull but effortlessly sexy tone.

“What did I tell you about thinking too hard, baby?” Bruno chuckled. “Let me help you concentrate on something else.”

Like a switch, the headache magically disappeared as all power went from Felipe’s brain to his throbbing brown dick. Bruno smiled as he placed himself between Felipe’s bulky legs.

“There we go,” Bruno licked his lips as he pulled the underwear back.

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

Note

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..."

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lalatumbsucklol · 1 day ago

Text

Brackwaithe Academy for Men

Martin Blackwell was flipping through the mail. Like always, it was bills and periodicals. However, a letter caught his eye. It was from the Brackwaithe Academy for Men. He had applied there when looking for colleges. It was very selective, and they only accepted the best of the best. While Martin was the valedictorian of his class, by quite a wide margin, he still didn’t think he would get accepted. He was also painfully shy, so he had no extracurriculars at all to round out his application.

The letter was normal envelope-size, so Martin expected that he didn’t get in. However, he was shocked when the letter explained that he was accepted! Brackwaithe would be lucky to have a man like him at the Academy. And the best thing of all: it was free! Martin talked it over with his parents, and they finalized Martin’s college plans. A few months later, he arrived at the gateway to the college. Not many people knew about Brackwaithe. The Academy had to send a bus for the freshmen class at the airport to pick them all up.

Martin got a good look at his fellow freshmen. He couldn’t size up the competition academically just yet, but he could admire hot how they were. Martin knew he was gay, but had never had a boyfriend or even kissed someone else before. He was much too focused on his academics, but now, with a lot more free time, he hoped to break out of his shell a little bit. He walked through the gateway with his bags and made his way to his dorm room.

As he walked across campus, he noticed something pretty strange. All of the older students were shirtless, and incredibly sexy. All of them had at least a six-pack and pecs you could fall asleep on. They also wore shorts that seemed to be too tight, their bubble butts and sizable bulges on display. Martin tried very hard not to stare and ogle. He was here for the academics, not for the hot male eye candy, not that he couldn’t enjoy both!

He got settled into his dorm room. Surprisingly, he was alone, like all of the other freshmen and all of the other students. All of them realized the Academy could have saved space by squeezing them all together, but none of them questioned it. They were all just excited to be here! Classes started a couple days later. Unlike at some colleges, freshmen weren’t taking Intro to Algebra and English 101. Martin and his fellow classmates were taking courses such as Euclidean Calculus and Molecular Chemistry.

Those courses challenged them and made school fun again, especially for those students that had peaked in their schools academically as sophomores. However, over the course of the semester, small and subtle changes were made to the courses. It started a few weeks in so that Martin and the other men didn’t suspect a thing. Answers were highlighted on tests, topics discussed in class became less complex, and what was most shocking of all: walking around campus shirtless.

Of course, the freshmen wanted to emulate the seniors, and so they didn’t find it weird that they were doing lab work shirtless. However, all they were really doing was just pouring different beakers of water into one big container. In the middle of the semester, Martin and the rest of the Academy got an updated class list. Instead of the academically challenging courses they started off the semester with, they had courses about flexing, fucking, and how to eat well and look good.

Martin did go along with these changes, but he was finding them odd. He had noticed that the classes were getting dumber at first, and it took a lot to finally get him to go around campus shirtless. He brought up his complaints with his freshmen occasionally, especially after the new half-semester classes had been posted. “Really, no one sees anything wrong with this? We have a literal class about fucking, guys!”

“I love fucking guys!” said one freshmen.

“I love it when a man sticks his cock in my hole and calls me a dumb slutty himbo,” said another.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore!” Martin went to his room to relax. He would have left campus, but he couldn’t. He didn’t find it particularly odd, considering how secluded the campus was from society in the first place. The cafeteria had a wide selection of food every day, and the campus had all of the amenities Martin could ever want, including a gym, which he found himself going to more and more often.

He didn’t want to get in trouble for not going to class, so he showed up to them. They were exactly what he thought he would be. The Academy brought in a literal bodybuilder to help them flex properly and make them look hot. The nutrition class was actually intriguing, but it seemed to be laser-focused on building muscle. Martin had been a vegetarian, but with those options becoming limited on campus, he started to eat meat again. He found that he actually enjoyed it!

He also weirdly enjoyed his fucking classes as well. He had been harbouring crushes on quite a few members of the freshman class for a while, and now he got to live out his fantasies of fucking or get fucked by them, supervised! That class quickly turned into his favorite, and he sometimes found himself arriving a bit earlier and having a hot “practice” session with the teacher.

These classes continued until the end of the semester. Even though Martin usually lagged behind his peers, he eventually caught up to them by the end. He, like the rest of the students at the Academy, were eternally shirtless. All of them had toned and muscular builds, and their knowledge now solely consisted of facts only a gym bro should know, and not someone who can count to 100 digits of pi. To an outsider, they might have been called himbos, and that was certainly right.

By the time Martin had figured it out, it was too late. The cafeteria workers had been spiking their food with trace amounts of himbo powder ever since they stepped on campus. Martin knew he had to tell someone about this, and was able to talk to the president and the board. They surprisingly listened to him, even though Martin stumbled over words and had the vocabulary of a first grader.

They calmly explained to him that everything he was saying was correct. Brackwaithe Academy for Men was one of the first places around the country to partake in a trial run for what they called a “himbo factory”. Colleges, gyms, and other similar places would slowly dose the men’s food or water with himbo powder and turn them into dumb slutty himbos. Even though Martin was armed with that knowledge now, he quickly forgot all about it after having a himbo powder induced orgy with some of the seniors.

At the end of the semester, the entire school went to “graduation”, from the seniors to the freshmen. Of course, they were too dumb and horny to realize that their parents weren’t at graduation. Instead, a number of men sat in the audience, all with paddles on their laps. Martin, along with the rest of the other men, anxiously waited in their seats, feeling up their seat neighbors until their name was called.

Once their name was called, the himbo went to center stage. He only wore the tight blue shorts that Martin had seen the seniors wearing on his first day. That was the Academy’s signature uniform, and a way of knowing which himbo factory a man’s himbo came from. Of course, the himbos were then sold at auction. It was a one-and-done deal for buyers, which meant prices were driven up pretty high for the seniors. However, the furor didn’t die down even by the time it got to the freshmen, although there were fewer buyers in the crowd.

“Marty Blackwell!” announced the president, who was also functioning as the auctioneer. Marty had his hand down his seat neighbor’s pants and was stroking his cock, but bounded to the stage when he was called.

Like he had learned at the Academy, he flexed on stage and showed off some skills to his potential buyers. Like all of the men before him, Marty had a good number of men vying for him, and he was sold for a very respectable $500,000.

He bounded offstage and to his new owner. Surprisingly, he was a muscled man just like Marty was, only much older. “Let’s get you home, boy, and see how well the Academy taught you.”

“Me want show you I learn!” Marty said, as he followed his new owner to the car. Brackwaithe would have a whole lot more money by the time the “graduation” was over, and soon enough, “himbo factories” would be popping up all over the world, turning men from all walks of life into dumb subservient himbos.

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lalatumbsucklol · 2 days ago

Text

Fountain of Youth

“That’s more than ridiculous,” Albert muttered. He knew his best mate Robert had a certain weakness for esoteric stuff and all that, but the tale of the fountain of youth was really the limit.

“It’s not ridiculous at all,” Robert shot back. “There are at least a dozen fairly well-documented stories about people vanishing here at the lake during full moon nights. And almost as many cases of youngsters suddenly turning up in the area right after. Young people no one had ever seen before.”

Robert began pulling newspaper clippings out of a folder. He showed maps on which prehistoric stone circles surrounded the old forest lake. Together they formed a pentagram, with the lake in its centre.

Albert rolled his eyes. It was easy enough to take any point, draw a pentagram around it, and then claim that landmarks just happened to mark the star’s edges. For him it was and remained nonsense. But he had indulged Robert. They had driven three hundred kilometres to this godforsaken place. They had checked into the only double room in that dreadful bed and breakfast. Outside, night was falling. And soon they would head to the pond. God knows what they would encounter there.

He expected nothing. And yet, to be honest, he was a little excited. “A little” fit him. Robert, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves.

According to Robert, the full moon would peak at exactly 22:37. From the parking lot it would take about half an hour to reach the lake. That meant half an hour’s buffer, ten minutes’ drive by car, so they set out at nine. He couldn’t have waited any longer anyway.

They drove to the small forest car park. A year and a half ago an abandoned car had been found here. The missing man’s clothes had turned up at the lake. Divers had searched it. No trace. Before that it had happened about five years ago, and again three years before that.

Albert had done a little research too. The region was swampy. If someone made a wrong step, it wasn’t impossible that centuries later they’d be found as a bog body. He didn’t believe in hocus pocus. But he marched bravely beside Robert through the woods. Thanks to the moonlight it was fairly bright.

Robert strode ahead confidently. “Here,” he said, stopping. “Here’s where we enter the lake!” He began undressing.

“Mate, you can’t be serious. You really mean to step into that water?” Robert was already down to his underwear.

“C’mon, you coward! What’s the worst that can happen? You don’t believe in the fountain of youth anyway!”

“What could happen?” Albert asked while unbuttoning his shirt. “I could bloody well catch my death, that’s what. It’s barely twelve degrees tonight!”

In nothing but their boxers, they waded into the lake. Robert kept checking his smartwatch, shifting a few steps forward, backward, to the right, to the left.

“Stop,” he shouted. “Right here!” He glanced at the display. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

Bubbles rose from the depths, bursting at the surface with a foul stench. A mixture of a boys’ locker room, sweet shisha smoke, and protein farts.

“Four, three, two, one…”

Albert froze. The water around them began to swirl, spinning into a maelstrom. Panic struck. Darkness fell — they hadn’t noticed the lunar eclipse until this very moment, when totality arrived. A moment before it had still been bright. Now they saw nothing. The ground vanished beneath their feet. Albert took one last breath. And then he was pulled under.

It was freezing cold. He didn’t even notice when he broke the surface again. He stood in the lake. The moon had set. Dawn was breaking. The water was icy.

A few metres away someone else was standing. His eyes adjusted to the half-light. He waded closer. The mist lifted.

Oh my God, Adonis himself bathed in this lake, he thought.

The man looked a little like Robert had back in their university days. Leaner, more muscular. A haircut like the young lads who loitered around the bus stop during the day. Like those no-gooders, he wore a silver chain. And a pair of blue swim shorts. An Adonis — but with Robert’s ginger hair. And Robert’s eyes.

“Bloody hell, Robert, is that you? Did it actually work? Was it not hocus pocus after all?”

At least, that was what Albert wanted to say. What actually came out was:

“Oi, fookin’ hell, Robbo, tha’ you, lad? Proper worked, dint it? Weren’t jus’ some daft hocus pocus after all, eh?”

The man — presumably Robert — stared at him blankly. He clearly hadn’t understood a word of the garbled slang Albert had just blurted. He answered:

“Wot the fook you bangin’ on about, mate? Sound like ye never even made it thru skool. Tha’ you, Alby? Fookin’ hell, lad — look at ye, like some Greek god, Apollo droppin’ down on earth an’ tha’!”

Alby went hard. And how hard he went. He hadn’t had such an erection in at least twenty years — if ever. His gaze dropped to Robbo’s bulge in the Lonsdale shorts.

Bloody hell, he thought. They’re putting up the circus tent poles right there.

Robbo stepped closer, making no effort to hide his arousal. One hand stroking himself, the other kneading Alby’s bulge. Alby moaned — loud enough to send a flock of ducks scattering from the reeds.

Tongues locked in combat, the two stumbled out of the lake. Somewhere here their things must be — the two Arsenal towels, the cooler, the sports bag with fresh clothes. They fell onto the towels. And they went at it like rabbits.

Around them, a line of rabbits kept grazing, unfazed by the raw animal sex.

Ten minutes later they lay on their backs, panting. Robbo puffed on a vape.

“Bruv, swear down, ya built like a fookin’ stallion, innit. Smash a whole hour in tha lake, then still pumpin’ like a machine after — no lad on this estate could keep up wi’ tha’ stamina, bro. Proper sex beast, you are.”

Robbo turned to Alby, teased his nipple, and added that the right man was saying it — the one with the ponytail, who’d just blown three loads in ten minutes.

Alby stiffened again. They were twenty-one. Who could blame them. They were horny 24/7.

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lalatumbsucklol · 2 days ago

Text

Bike Lane

Three opportunists do perhaps too good a job stirring up sentiments against cycling. To this end someone out there has seen fit to ensure they change their minds in quite dramatic fashion.

Planned this one to be shorter than it is, but so it goes when you do three TFs in one. Enjoy these sellouts turning into simple, hunky cyclists! -Occam

The trio of men ranging from brash to brainless have long been doing everything they can to stop the city from adding a bike lane in front of their office. Hoping on the latest local hot button issue by standing against cyclists. Well, saying that, they didn’t go to city planning meetings or lodge any formal paperwork, but why should they need to!? Does the city not know who they are?

Mattias, Eric, and Benny were certainly posting up a storm if not meaningfully trying to engage in civic issues. Their complaints had way more interaction than the city’s stupid plan, more upvotes, likes, retweets, comments. This was the perfect test of their start up and they don’t seem to be doing all that well.

“It’s the petition of the modern age! Mayor McWhatever’ll have to listen to us now!” The ringleader among them, Eric argues as Mattias chews on his lip, nervously eying the survey crew outside their newly acquired office.

Deciding he’s had enough, Benny rushes out to argue with the crew, saying they have no right to alter their property. Decidedly the dullest of the trio that rarely runs on all cylinders, he can barely remember why they even have a problem with bike lanes. It’s another one of Eric’s crusades he thinks. Biking’s for chicks maybe?

Grunting out a verbal shrug as he’s distracted from assailing the city workers, the men in hard hats eye each other and get back in their truck, leaving behind a permit with Benny as he continues to try and remember what the big deal is. “Yo boss? Think they’re gonna start construction tonight!”

Absolutely seething, Eric reads the fine print and whines to Mattias about government overstepping and how pissed he is that he won’t be able to park his truck on the street anymore. “I just got it all done up with decals too! Fuck!” Pounding on the table, Benny feels his pulse begin to rise with second-hand anger, as it often does.

Barely reacting to the tantrum, except to still his shaking coffee cup, Mattias scrolls through their latest social media campaign, preparing to type some inflammatory posts at Eric’s request. But as he trawls through a litany of tech bros and influencers looking to join in on the grift, he comes across a comment that stops him in his tracks.

It’s obviously not rare for some dissenter to complain on their posts, the adage ‘all press is good press’ has only become more true, what with ad revenue from interactions and all. But never has one cut Mattias to his core like this single comment in an ocean of angry men who hate cyclists.

The message wasn’t even anything of note, just a single sentence. “Enjoy biking to work now hun.” No likes, no further comments, clicking on it Mattias finds that it only has one view. As if it were written for him alone to see. He usually never deletes post interactions, but as a strange discomfort continues to grow within him, Mattias rushes to delete the comment and block the user.

Only, when he clicks on the username there is no account. According to the app, this account, this comment doesn’t exist. His phone begins to heat up in his hands. Before he can drop it, he’s stirred from his uncomfortable trance by Eric shouting for his attention.

“Hello!? Are you listening Mattias? We’re trying to plan next steps here!”

Benny’s eyes soften as he sees fear clear as day on his coworker’s face. “You all good Matt? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Shifting between staring at the eldritch comment that seems burned into his screen and his coworkers, Mattias struggles to decide if he should level with them or not. He knows he can’t suggest that he’s been bothered by some nobody online, by a literal nobody in fact. It’s emasculating, there’s nothing Eric hates more than that.

As soon as he decides to put on a brave face, allowing his stoic persona to return once more, Mattias reaches for his phone and it shocks his hand. There’s no chance for him to quiet the shrill yelp.

Eric was raring up to mock his underling but then his eyes fell to the phone as it clattered to the table once more. The words on the screen demand his attention, “Seems like lycra might do you some good.”

Squinting, Eric opens his mouth to complain before his eyes go wide and he squirms in his seat. He feels his boxers constrict as their soft fabric changes to something smooth, something cold and tight. He feels his cock shift in between his thighs as the unmistakable feeling of compression shorts suddenly engulfs his thighs and he yelps even louder than Mattias did.

Seeing both coworkers out of sorts, Benny scratches his head and wonders if this is just one of those times he just won’t know what’s really going on with the other two. Something on the phone maybe? Feeling he deserves to sneak a peak too, he does just that and just like the others he finds a message made for his eyes only. “You’ve always liked biking, haven’t ya big guy?”

At the best of times Benny is vulnerable to manipulation. It’s no wonder he has fallen under the employ of someone so hungry and controlling as Eric, as calculated and desperate as Mattias. So when confronted by something genuinely supernaturally alluring there is little recourse but to fall right in. There is no fear within him as he feels his thighs burn with soreness and his eyes slightly glaze over.

Playing with the tight elastic band on his underwear, Eric grunts out a plan. “Okay boys here’s what we’ll do.” Gulping, he feels sweat pouring down his back as his shirt begins to stick to his waist. Tight. Pressing into the sensitive small of his back. “Head home early, now even! Why not now! Need time to plan our counterattack, yeah! Yeah…” Feeling the fabric of his low effort tee slowly shift and constrict he continues as he starts to sprint to his lifted truck, “And a late start tomorrow too! See you then boys!”

Watching a performative puff of smoke shoot into the air behind Eric’s truck as it tears onto the street, Mattias starts collecting himself enough to leave. He hears his boss shout at some poor sod over the roar of the engine as he feels himself still shellshocked from the literal shock of his phone.

It’s like he’s overloaded with energy but has no way to be rid of it. His legs burn with potential as he nods farewell to the still visibly absent Benny. Maybe he should go for a jog. He’s been meaning to do more cardio lately. Clenching his jaw as he begins his short walk home, Mattias passes the cyclist that must have been harassed by Eric and before anything else, he feels a rush of envy.

Freezing in place, Mattias stares at the man as he rides past. Tracing the heightened curves of his powerful thighs, as they pump him onwards. Mouth watering as he sees his puffy pecs bounce in the tight spandex as he pedals. Mattias’ own chest throbs with need as he sees the man’s ass disappear into the distance.

He tells himself it must just be stress from work. Obeying the demands of a neurotic man, struggling to distract investors from their total lack of a meaningful product, dealing with fallout from their constant rage-baiting ad campaigns on every social media site you can name. Mattias just needs a break, a breather. To feel the wind in his hair. There’s an itch in the center of his chest as he continues briskly walking home, the sound of whirring wheels in his head.

Eric struggles to disrobe as he drives, every piece of clothing clinging to him like lycra, static stuck to his sweaty skin. Mattias feels the rhythm of bike chains and spinning spokes as he falls onto his bed, doing his best to will away the energy filling him as his body feels heavier. Benny simply continues to sit, exactly where he was left, sleeping with his eyes open as his drool slowly drips from his open mouth.

As Benny snores, the empty storefront promising digital solutions for companies looking to build their brand and spread their IP is washed away. The bland corporate grey is dirtied before it is replaced with warm wood panelling. Clutter fills the new shop as the table Benny rests on shifts into a work bench.

The chair underneath him begins to shift and bend under his weight, the physical changes of the morphing world pour into Benny just as swiftly as the hardwood beneath him. Never the smallest guy, whatever force this was would certainly not deign to disappear that well–earned bulk. Rather, he puts on more weight as his bulky muscle smooths out, throbbing into a body begging to be shown off. Grunting in his sleep, Benny’s clothes tear away as shockingly defined abs pound onto his torso below pecs whose only purpose is to be seen.

His small patches of chest hair slowly trickle across the whole of his expanded pecs as his treasure trail widens to encapsulate as many of his abs as it can muster before peaking up towards the increasingly deep crevice of his juicy chest. Arms that always hung thick at the side of the brutish body man maintain their mass as veins trickle down their length, bulging ever so larger as they pump denser, flex thicker.

His mind having always been easy terrain to conquer, when Benny wakes up to find himself in a bike shop. In their bike shop, he has no qualms or even memories of Eric’s attempt at an astroturfed campaign against urban biking. Of their original company at all. And why would he, there’s nothing he loves more in the world than biking. Slowly stirring he feels the slow build of lactic acid in his thighs as burning soreness fills his heavy thighs.

Slowly dripping pre onto his stool, there’s a dumb smirk on Benny’s face before he remembers where he is sitting, now nude, and rushes to get ready for the day. Running into the back office he smiles once more as he struggles to fit into the tightest lycra he can find. Hearing the sound of it stretching over his wide back, feeling it tug against his defined thighs and bulging arms make it clear that the need for a size increase is around the corner. He’ll wait until this one fully tears off of him though.

Grabbing his bike from the back he wheels it out into the street, triple checking that they’re not supposed to open yet before enjoying his favorite part of the day. His morning ride through the park, made infinitely easier by the convenient bike lane now installed outside their shop.

Taking his first breath of crisp morning air he is invigorated more than he can appreciate. His slow simple mind delights in the idyllic life he lives. Nodding at pedestrians and comparing his gear and body to fellow cyclists he smirks as every time he finds himself superior. Benny’s thighs strain the lycra more with every pump of his pedals. And then, out of nowhere a memory falls into his mind. He was gonna meet Mattias this morning wasn’t he?

Just down the street, Mattias wakes to the sun rising. Never a morning bird, he’s shocked to be awake, let alone to find his body still filled with the same energy he had tried to will away yesterday. Lying in a bed now patterned with salt stains, his limbs burn with intensity more akin to running a marathon than going to bed early.

And yet, as he rises his heart continues racing and his limbs beg for more use. Walking with a purpose to a rack he didn’t remember having on the wall, Mattias’ mind takes some time to catch up to his body as it acts on instinct, taking down an expensive looking bicycle and going through rounds of stretching.

He sees biceps bounce in his arms as he pushes them to their new length in a stretch. Brows furrowed, the thin man wondered when muscle suddenly appeared on his form as he looks down to find a muscle inching larger on his chest with every breath. Eyes glazing over as he sees new curves casting a shadow onto his newly tight torso, Mattias doesn’t quite notice as his few chest hairs rapidly flourish into a patch of dark curls.

Bouncing his small pecs, as they bulge larger Mattias is filled with a burning desire for something he doesn’t quite understand yet. In spite of the still rising energy coursing through every new muscle fiber piling onto his form, he feels something he hasn’t felt in some time.

He feels peace. Calm greater than he has felt in years, Mattias rests his hands on the bike and ushers it out the door. The clothes he slept in quickly suction to his skin as he exits onto the street. Business casual giving way to that skintight suit as his improved body is bared to the world.

Feeling the sticky mist of a morning fog, Mattias follows his bliss and hops onto the bike. Pedaling to nowhere, the techie lets the stresses of an overworked life simply drip away and as he does his decidedly unremarkable form rapidly transforms into a body anyone with eyes would scarcely look away from.

Lycra pulls back on his legs as they slowly edge just beyond its capacity. His chest strains the zipper on the front of his unitard as the perfect amount of stubble prickles onto his jaw. And then as if it’s where he was biking all along, Mattias bumps into Benny.

Looking slightly confused, as he always does, Benny stands back to the city and brightens as he sees his friend approach. Neither of the pair question this meeting, as they chain their bikes on a rack and meander to get coffee.

Slightly sweaty from their respective rides, Benny and Mattias attract a few judgmental looks. But they certainly don’t care, cycling’s their lives and they’re spreading the good word with their hot bods. The thirsty stares always outweigh the upturned noses anyway.

Grabbing a simple Matcha, Mattias heads back out to enjoy what’s left of the morning mist as Benny orders the frilliest low-cal drink he can imagine. Chatting up a fellow biker he feels the zipper on his chest give way as his pecs bulge larger with every word exchanged.

Smirking, he invites the man to pay him a visit at uh, their bike shop? His eyes glaze slightly over as he struggles to zip his spandex up over his pumped chest, only to fail again.

The man is gone by the time Benny joins his friend, though Mattias tries to explain the strange sensation. Eric however is happy to confirm, and as soon as he tells Mattias the name of the store the final piece falls into place.

He grunts as his mind rewrites his life to this point. Meeting Eric and Benny in an urban cycling club, petitioning the city for better bike lanes, opening The Street Pedaler together. Only? Why does he feel like Eric would never do that? Mattias shakes off the confusion soon enough though, that’s Benny’s thing.

Lagging behind the pair, their fearful leader was both the most aware, and the most resistant to the changes overtaking them. By the time he pulls into his driveway, he’s still struggling to rip off his usual clothes as they shift to the telltale uniform of the current ilk he finds himself opposed to. So pretentious, so european…

With every lobbed ‘insult’ he wrests off another section of lycra sticking to his sweaty body. It takes all his strength to strip down as he stumbles into his home. Eyes clenched shut as he slowly makes his way to the bedroom to sleep off whatever feverish malady has overcome him, he doesn’t notice as an aura of changes affects everything he nears.

His shoe rack clatters as in between gaudy dress shoes and preformative boots, tennis shoes shift lithe into the perfect pairs of shoes for his new life. Op-eds he had been meaning to submit wherever he can piled high on the kitchen table blanche white before shifting into consumer catalogues for his new business.

Leaving sweaty footprints on his kitchen floor as he stumbles to bed, Eric’s ragged breaths burn his thin chest as his lungs expand faster than his growing ribs can handle. His tight skin shines with sweat as he collapses and wraps himself tight in a comforter, Eric whines to himself that he doesn’t deserve this. That he’s done no wrong. So what they’ve harassed a few people off the internet, trampled a few local businesses with privately-funded hate campaigns- That’s the free market!

Struggling to get a full breath as the air around him is beyond humid with his own sweat, his vision goes spotty as pictures hung on the wall alter. He hears the sound of a bike bell and spinning wheels as his legs move beyond his control, twitching larger and circling as he feels consciousness rapidly waning. An image of Benny and Mattias standing outside The Street Pedaler flashes like a vision, arms outstretched and beckoning him to join.

And so he is dragged towards being a better person.

Dreams are a blur as his subconscious changes to match his evolving exterior. Years of building his brand, his personality-less personality, fade away as his delicately molded exterior is replaced by something rougher and real. Something free. Stubble itches onto his face as his ever-waxed chest is rapidly covered with thick dark patches of chest hair.

The oiled up helmet of hair on his head grows greasy not from product but hard earned sweat that evidences his one true passion. In his sleep his legs lengthen and peddle like a dog chasing a squirrel in his own nighttime reverie. Everything in his closet restitches to fit his new size before fading and reconstituting into clothes befitting his passion. Business casual and stodgy tuxes disappear and are replaced with athleisure and copious versions of his favorite lycra brand.

Eric’s mouth twitches into a grin as he feels that restrictive chill creeping onto his form as he rests. Slightly rutting as the tight spandex covers his exposed crotch, he bites his lip at the pleasure, though sex is of course secondary to the delight of cycling down the open road. Feeling it strain against his thick thighs and compressing shoulders that had already widened to their maximum he quietly moans in anticipation of hitting the trail as soon as he wakes.

Soon enough his alarm blares his morning anthem and he’s up with a start, already racing to his garage where half a dozen modified bikes await him. Faced with his most difficult choice of the day he chooses at random and after scarfing down his breakfast and grabbing the absolute essentials for opening the shop, Eric’s out the door and racing through the park to meet his friends at the shop.

Feeling the crisp air drag through his stubble and the chest hair that always peeks above his tight lycra. Eric feels as if for the first time in his life he’s headed in the right direction. Wheeling onwards he is eager to do some good in the world, helping hobbyists and encouraging people to do what they can to live a better healthier life.

The idea of atonement flickers into his mind but he pushes it away, he’s just a friendly bikeshop owner working with his two best friends. The only thing he’s done wrong as of late is getting on the bad side of some bad apples.

Slowing his roll as he enters the city proper he smirks as he rides down the new bike lane to their shop. Ecstatic that in spite of hate campaigns and car lobbyists that the city’s keeping up the good work. Nearing the shop his grin edges even wider as he sees the pair waiting outside, Mattias with a coffee in hand for him. Time for them to open up the Street Pedaler and do their own good work.

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lalatumbsucklol · 2 days ago

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That Means Something Here

[M/m, shrinking, sex]

Chase took a swig of his beer and surveyed the bar. There were a number of good looking men around, but not what he was looking for. Then he saw him at the back. He was a behemoth. Six foot six at least. At six two and stocky, Chase didn't meet many guys who outsized him. He turned his Red Sox cap around on his head, grabbed his beer and made his way over.

"Hey," said Chase. "Nice shirt." The guy was wearing a Derek Jeter jersey.

The guy smirked at him. "Thanks." He grabbed Chase's hat and turned it forward. "Brave of you to wear that in this town."

Chase shrugged. "Gotta be who you are, right?" He smiled.

"Guess so. Think you've got a chance?"

It took Chase a second to realize he meant the World Series.

"I think it could happen for us."

The guy laughed. "You people never lose hope do you?"

Chase grinned. "You miss all the shots you don't take!"

"That you do." The guy put his arm around the man next to him who'd been watching them. "Come on hon, our reservation's coming up." He cuffed the brim of Chase's hat. "Good luck there slugger."

"Yeah, thanks," Chase said. The two men left and Chase sighed, fixed his hat and took a big swig of his beer.

"Nice play, too bad it didn't work."

Chase looked up from his beer. The guy talking to him was about a head shorter, with a neatly trimmed bear and short dark hair slicked back on his head.

Chase shrugged. "I tried."

The man smiled. "Would have reeled me in."

"No offense, but you're not really my type."

The man's smile didn't change. "I know. I came over here to give you this." He held out a small black card.

Chase took it. It said "Megethos" on it in silver letters and had an address underneath it.

"You're a promoter?" he asked.

"Only when I see someone who would be a good fit for the community. You should give it a try, I think you'll find exactly what you're looking for."

"This address is all the way uptown."

"You miss all the shots you don't take." The guy reached up and pushed the brim of Chase's hat so it was backwards. "Go just like that, you'll be a big hit."

The guy turned and walked into the crowd. Chase looked back at the card. It would be at least an hour to get there. Then again, he wasn't having any luck here and he didn't want to go home this early on a Friday night.

The subway got him most of the way but he had to hike west a few blocks to get to the place. The whole area looked industrial and he wondered what kind of a place would be way out here. A rave? It better not be a rave.

When he got to the address he found a small door in a brick building. It had a sign over it that looked something like the club's name, but it had a y instead of a g and a weird looking zero instead of th. He gave the handle a try and suddenly the door flew open and big looking dude was staring out at him. The guy was massive, with thick muscles and a big belly. He glared down at Chase. Then he focused on Chase's hat and smirked.

"You got a card?"

Chase showed him the card the stranger had given him.

"Come on in." The big guy stood aside to let Chase pass. Chase was surprised he didn't ask for ID. At twenty-four he usually got carded.

He entered a long dark hallway. There were a few left and right turns coming off it. He could hear the pumping bass line of dance music coming from somewhere else. He started forward. He assumed there'd be a bar around here somewhere.

As he came toward one of the offshoot hallways, a guy came around the corner and nearly ran into him.

"Oh, sorry," the guy said.

"Hey do you know where the bar is?" said Chase.

"Depends what you're--" The guy noticed Chase's hat. "Oh! Wow. You're brave."

Chase shrugged "Gotta be who you are."

The guy grinned at him. "Good for you dude. You want the last hall on the right down there."

"Thanks."

Chase proceeded where the man had pointed. He turned down a hall that ended in a door with a sign that had the same weird looking writing as the one at the front door.

"Uikpotepos?" said Chase. "Weird place."

He entered to find an old-fashioned looking bar area, dimly lit by flickering gaslamps that were staggered along the walls of the room. The floor was an austere black and white tile and the bar was ornately carved wood painted a flat medium gray. A few lush red stools stood along the bar. They were spaced much wider than you'd expect, almost like every other stool was missing. There was one guy seated there with a drink in front of him. He seemed to be mumbling into his chest.

The walls not occupied by the bar were inset with hemispherical booths upholstered with the same red material as the bar stools. Most had just a single occupant, a few of whom seemed to be mumbling to themselves, much like the guy at the bar. Chase wondered if there was some kind of protocol here he was supposed to know.

He started for the bar when he felt an arm drape over his shoulders. He turned to find a man standing next to him, just a couple inches shorter than him. He had short hair, about a three day stubble, and very intense green eyes. He was dressed much nicer than Chase, a black button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of well-fitted gray slacks.

"Hey there," the guy said. "I'm glad I noticed you before anyone else did."

The guy was handsome enough and not too much shorter than Chase, but the guy who'd given Chase the card had said "exactly what he was looking for" and he wasn't willing to settle for less just yet.

"No offense, but you're not quite my type," said Chase.

The man grinned and gave the brim of Chase's hat a couple tugs.

"Not yet anyway."

Chase wasn't sure what that meant. "It's just--"

"This is your first time here, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Come have a drink with me. I'll give you the lowdown here. If you're still not feeling it after one drink, at least you'll have the hang of the place a little better, right?"

Chase did feel a little lost and some guidance would be great, if nothing else.

"Alright."

The guy waved at a waiter and lead Chase to an empty booth. Chase slid in and the man sat close enough next to him that their legs were touching.

"I guess I'm a bit underdressed here," said Chase.

"I think you're dressed perfect for your role."

"My role?"

"I'll explain, but let's get some drinks."

The waiter approached their table.

"I'll have a vodka martini," said the man, "and as you can see my friend here wants the special."

Chase was about to ask for a beer. He didn't usually drink cocktails, but he supposed if the guy was buying, he shouldn't be ungrateful.

"I'm Jared," said the man, offering his hand.

"Chase."

They shook.

"Chase," said the man. "I like Chases." He put his arm around Chase's shoulders. He had to stretch a bit. "You're a pretty big guy, Chase."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

The waiter came back and set a martini glass down in front of Jared. Chase's drink was a green tinted liquid served in a highball glass.

"What's this, absinthe?" said Chase.

"Much better," said Jared. He held up his martini. "Cheers."

They toasted and Chase took a sip of his drink. It wasn't fruity as he feared, it was actually a kind of pleasant bitter taste with an extra herbal flavor that Chase couldn't place.

"It's good," said Chase. "I'm not usually one for cocktails but I like this."

"I thought you would," said Jared.

Chase had another sip. Jared was stroking his shoulder.

"So, this is an interesting place," said Chase, trying to prompt Jared to spill some info.

"It usually is," said Jared. "When did you get your card?"

"Just a couple hours ago actually. A guy came up to me and told me I'd like it here."

"And he told you to wear your hat like that?"

"Yeah, actually he did."

"You should know that means something here."

"Really? What?"

"I don't want to spoil the surprise, but Edwin is usually right about the guys he finds."

"Edwin? You know the guy handing out the cards?"

"I know the guy who'd send you here looking like that, yeah."

Chase was starting to feel like he was the butt of some kind of a joke.

"Look," he said, setting his drink on the table. "I'm not sure I like all the mystery here, if you're making fun of me--"

"You're always trying to meet guys who are bigger than you. Someone that can put his arms around you and make you feel small. But that's tough for a big guy like you. You try it with guys a bit smaller than you, but most of them get nervous and subby because you outsize them."

Chase stared at him. "That's right. How did you know?"

"I told you, Edwin picks the right guys to send our way." Jared was looking at Chase very intently. Chase could see the flickering light on the wall nearby reflected in his intense green eyes. "I'm not nervous, Chase. I'm not subby."

Chase nodded. "I guess I'm just feeling like a fish out of water here."

Jared leaned loser and curled his arm around further, brushing Chase's chest with his hand. "Let me help you feel at ease, little fish." He picked up Chase's drink and brought it up to Chase's mouth. Chase drank from it. Jared held it there for a long swallow, and when he set it down the drink was half gone.

Something was bothering Chase and that was when he realized it shouldn't have been that easy for Jared to reach around him. He saw that the man's head was several inches above his now. His eyes widened.

"You're getting bigger!" His cock jumped looking at the man who was now nearly a full head taller than him.

Jared smiled and he patted Chase's chest, shaking his head. "No."

Chase frowned. A hallucination? What was in that drink? As he stared at it he noticed that the table that had been halfway up his belly was approaching shoulder height for him. He looked at Jared.

"What does the hat mean?"

"It means you're fair game for anyone who wants to take you down."

Chase glanced around the room. He saw now that the shirt pocket of the man at the bar was moving around on its own. In the booth across from them, he could just barely see through dim light a second pair of very small legs dangling over the edge of the seat. It drew his attention to the fact that his own legs were now far from reaching the floor. His shirt sleeves were billowing around his forearms and the neck was exposing more and more of his shoulders and chest. Even the jock he'd worn under his shorts was collapsing too big around him.

He was rock hard.

He knew he should be angry, or scared. He hadn't agreed to this. But his dick was singing so loudly it was hard to hear those softer sour notes.

Jared was grinning broadly down at him. "I love the look on a guy's face the first time he realizes what's happening. What do you think?"

Chase looked up into the face of the man who now loomed over him. A man who could toss him around and use him as he pleased. He was concerned, apprehensive, aroused. "You look incredible right now," said Chase softly.

Jared leaned down and they started making out. The man's lips and tongue were huge to Chase, invading his mouth. He felt overwhelmed for the first time ever by the size of the guy he was with and he loved it.

Chase let the hat that was now way too big for him tumble onto the seat. Jared lifted Chase's shirt over his head and dropped it onto the hat. He stroked Chase's chest with his fingers as they kissed.

After a few moments Chase realized he had stopped changing size. He was relieved, but… Disappointed?

"Is this the smallest I get?" he asked.

Jared seemed amused by this question. "It's pretty small for a first timer." He glanced at the half full glass on the table. "You could finish that, and then you'd be small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. You'd look cute like that. We could have a fun evening, me carrying you around in my pocket, teasing you, showing you off to a few friends. Maybe investigate some of the things we could do at that size."

Chase was leaking.

"Or, you could stay like this and I could bring you to an even darker little corner and you could experience the thrill of being filled almost beyond capacity. Your choice."

Chase thought about it. "What time is it?"

"About ten."

"So… why not both?"

Jared grinned. He scooped Chase out of the remainder of his clothes, and threw Chase over his shoulder. As Jared navigated the hallways, they passed various people, some of unlikely small or large size. Several stopped to look at Chase. He felt his cheeks burn to be exposed like this but it also made his cock jump.

Jared brought him into a small room with a dim red light over the door. There was a narrow bed against the wall. Jared set him down and undressed hastily. Chase stroked himself as he watched his huge friend getting naked. The man had a nice, athletic body with a light dusting of hair over his chest and belly.

It was by far the biggest cock Chase had ever taken. He almost wasn't sure he could do it, but he wanted to and he pushed himself. Jared proceeded to jack hammer Chase's ass. His cock hit the extra sensitive spot inside Chase so well, he found himself cumming without even touching himself. Jared lasted a good long while and when he finally moaned and started cumming, it made Chase shoot all over again.

They lay together for a bit after that, Chase cuddled into Jared's arms, Jared tracing the contours of his body with his fingers. Jared found some wet wipes in a drawer under the bed and cleaned them both off. He got dressed and slung Chase over his shoulder again.

They went back to the bar and Jared ordered a shot of the same drink Chase had before. Chase noticed that their booth had been cleared and was worried about his clothes, but Jared told him they'd be waiting for him when he left. When the shot arrived, Chase had to hold it in both hands, but he downed it all and soon he'd shrunk down fit in Jared's palm. He was already hard again, but Jared slid him into his breast pocket and carried him away.

They came to another bar, this one much busier and more social. Jared chatted with a few guys. They talked like Chase wasn't there, even though their eyes kept drifting down to him. One of the guy's also had a small man with him. The guy asked Jared if he wanted to trade and Jared said "just for a minute, this one's new and I want to keep him to myself tonight."

Chase was deposited in the new man's hands. This guy was a little smaller than Jared. Massive to Chase. He examined Chase, turning him all around, and teased Chase with his fingers. He commented about his stocky build and asked how tall he was normally.

"Six foot two," Chase answered.

"Must be quite a change for you."

"Yeah."

He looked back at Jared and saw that he was talking in hushed tones a smooth, twinky guy in his hand. The twink was a bit bigger than Chase, he must not have drunk as much of the special. Jared suggested they compare the two, so they brought them to a hightop table and set them down next to each other. The twink looked down at Chase and grinned. He set his elbow on Chase's head and called him "shorty." Chase throbbed as the twink made fun of his size.

Later, Jared took Chase back to the small room and Chase got his first experience with a cock as tall as him. He hoped to have many more. When they lay together afterwards, Jared asked if Chase had a good time and got what he wanted that night.

"More than I even knew I wanted," said Chase.

It was nearly four in the morning when Jared brought Chase to a room just off the main hall not far from the entrance. There was a guy handing out little cups of a clear liquid. It had a flavor almost like banana. Chase drank some and he grew back to human height. Jared had gotten Chase's clothes from the check nearby. He handed them over and they exchanged numbers and a brief kiss and then Jared left. Chase started pulling on his clothes and found that everything was too big for him. He realized that when he'd kissed Jared, he had to lift his head up.

"Is anything wrong?" asked the guy at the check counter, as Chase was holding the front of his shirt out in front of him, looking at all the extra room it had.

"No," Chase told him. "Nothing."

He pulled the string on his shorts tight to keep them from falling and left for home.

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