markuss555

[markuss555]

The change.

13-year-old patrick was at home alone and bored because his parents and older brother were out shopping, he was sitting watching television when he had the idea of going out to the pool in his backyard.

Quickly the boy went up the stairs and went to his room which he shared with his older brother, he opened his underwear drawer and began to look for some shorts to put on, Seeing that he didn't have any clean ones because he spent every day in the pool during the summer, he felt a little disappointed and let out a sigh.

But nothing would stop Patrick's fun so he thought about stealing some shorts from his brother, Andrew, so he opened his older brother's drawer and found a perfect pair of gray shorts.

He began to take off all the clothes he was wearing until he was in superhero boxers since they were his favorites, he grabbed the shorts and slid them down his legs.

"Woah... They're pretty big on me, the good thing is I can cinch them around my waist so they don't fall down." Patrick just gave a silly little smile and then ran off to the pool, once there, he took a dip.

While he was laughing and swimming he wasn't noticing that his feet were changing shape, going from looking small and soft to looking big and masculine.

His legs were also changing, they lengthened considerably so that his height went from 1.69 to a powerful 1.79, a light layer of hair began to spread on his legs, and then they would gain a bit of definition.

His small c*ck began to feel a little tight in his boy boxers as it began to lengthen and thicken, now he had a monstrous 14 inch c*ck, His balls, which were also small, began to enlarge and begin producing the c*m of a young jock man. Patrick unconsciously let out a slight moan due to the pleasure.

His superhero boxers were starting to lose color and give way to some brand-name black boxers the shorts were starting to fit him well without the need to squeeze them against his waist.

The boy's upper body was not far behind, gaining mass after mass of muscle, making a visible 8-pack of abs appear on his stomach, His pectoral planes began to inflate and come out to give way to two worked pectorals.

His torso expanded to give way to a more worked, wider and masculine torso, his shoulders did the same while his back went from looking smooth to having muscles that any guy dreams of.

His deltoids and biceps began to grow muscle, all the fat he had in them began to disappear to give way to hissible veins, now his biceps were the size of a soccer ball.

On his wrists appeared two pairs of bracelets, the typical ones that his older brother always wore, his hands grew larger while his fingers lengthened, giving way to rather fleshy hands.

His neck was not far behind, as it also thickened, his voice pitch lowered several tones to give him the voice of an attractive 20-year-old guy.

The bones in his face began to creak as his face changed shape to reveal a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, thick lips and nose, his eyebrows became thicker, giving him a model-like face.

His hair, which was straight and a little long, began to recede, leaving him with a haircut of a jock who only spends his time in the gym or playing sports.

His memories began to rewrite themselves as he was gaining the memories of his older brother, His hobbies were no longer playing with his toys, watching cartoons or painting, Now all he wanted was to party with his fraternity bros , get drunk and leave the girls covered in his "candy"

After thinking about p*ss*es and t*ts, Patrick couldn't hold it in any longer and so, he came in his boxers saying goodbye to his old self.

Andrew just frowned and then got out of the pool, he knew he couldn't waste his candy, much less on his boxers.

After several minutes in the pool, he got out to now only bathe in the sun so that his entire body and shorts would dry, once ready he remembered what he had to do.

"Oh shit dude... I'll have to change before my parents and that lil brat come, I should text my girl to see if I can f*ck her."

Hello! This is my first story (you can clearly see it). If this story gets support, I'll be writing more, with tons of improvements! I hope you enjoy it.

[markuss555]

Three days to midsummer: Day two

Don't know the setup or the characters? Try the prologue first! Or perhaps have a look at the previous episode.

Jörgen's dreams had been wild again and filled with images of Sarge fucking him over and over again. But yesterday's encounter had not been the only event he was dreaming of. His entire night had been nothing but a whirlwind of cock, ass, muscles and cum to an extend he didn't even question the fact that his blanket was all wet and sticky when he woke up. He groaned. This was getting worse and worse.

Groaning tiredly, he got up and went straight to the bathroom, where he proceeded to turn up the toilet seat, grab his dick and started to relieve himself without really paying attention to anything.

However, the moment he opened his eyes fully, he couldn't help but gasp in shock, sending trickles of urine all over his bathroom equipment. Fuck! He had half-hoped that at least his mysterious transformation would have come to a halt, but the opposite was the case. He hardly recognized himself in the bathroom mirror!

The changes that had already started on the first day were far more obvious today. His body was much thicker, bulkier and hairier. His chest had grown even bigger and was now covered with a dark pelt of hair, more than he was ever able to grow in his entire life, even if he would have wanted. The face staring back at him looked different, too: it was squarer, and the stubble on his cheeks was far more prominent. His nose had gotten a lot broader and looked almost inhuman to him. Jörgen rubbed his face. There were no signs of the handsome, clean-cut features he had once sported. No, the face looking back at him was the one of a guy who liked to get rough in bed and out.

There were more changes that had occurred overnight as well. Like his now-larger hands with a bit of hair on the back. Or his cock, which must have been as big soft now as it had been hard before this whole madness. It was clear that Zephir's magic turned him into some kind of hyper-masculine guy, and Jörgen was at least partially thankful for that. The whole thing could have been even worse if the fairy prince had preferred other body types or genders, but that was just a weak comfort. The worst thing about this situation was that Jörgen could not think clearly. It was becoming more and more difficult to form thoughts, as if he was trying to think through syrup. And it didn't help that his mind was easily distracted by his now-favorite things and happily went back to the memory of Patrik turning into Sarge or ogled his own new body, the manly hair, his muscles, his large co —

No! He had to concentrate! Jörgen fled from the bathroom and squeezed himself into whatever clothes he found that would fit, all while trying to come up with solutions. He could run away, but somehow, he had doubts that would stop the curse. Perhaps he should try to play along again, asking his ex-girlfriend to set him up with her gay BFF. But would that really work? As far as he knew, that guy was a musical-loving, lispy and lithe gay, and dated the same type. Hardly a chance of falling into true love. No, the fact remained that Jörgen just couldn't come up with any idea that might work. And he was too fucking distracted all the time to properly think about it.

Pulling his right hand out of his underwear (fuck, when had he started rubbing himself?), he reached for his phone. He needed someone to help him think most of all, someone he trusted. Now more than ever, he needed his best friend.

Luckily, Felix picked up immediately and even agreed to come over right away. While waiting for his childhood friend to arrive, Jörgen paced up and down his apartment. His clothes, once the widest he had owned, felt uncomfortable and constricting, and he found himself readjusting his large crotch more times than necessary, as if his treacherous body only waited for an opportunity to touch his cock. Fuck, he really needed to calm himself down, or jerk one off before Felix arrived.

Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.

Felix was a year younger than Jörgen, and even under normal circumstances the smaller one of them both. A pair of glasses adorned his round, friendly face, and he was a bit on the chubby side. He was smart, smarter than Jörgen as he was not afraid to admit, and he hoped that he would be able to come up with an idea on how to solve this mess.

When he entered, Felix' eyes went wide.

"Woah. What in the world has happened here? Jörgen? Is that you?"

He took one more step into the apartment and grimaced.

"Man, this place reeks. What have you been doing here? Did you bring a whole sports team home or something?"

Fuck, Jörgen hadn't noticed the smell himself. Even now, he could only imagine how it must smell. Automatically, his eyes went to the crusty bedsheets, and Felix' gaze followed them.

"I... uh, it's complicated. I don't know where to begin. It's all so crazy!"

Felix' expression changed from disgust to concern, and he put a hand on Jörgen's shoulder, having to reach up slightly to do so.

"It's okay. Let's sit down and tell me everything."

Jörgen nodded and gestured towards the couch, while he took a chair for himself. Luckily, he didn't feel any attraction towards his friend, partly because they had known each other for so long now, and partly because Felix wasn't exactly... handsome. Still, he didn't want to risk anything by sitting too close to another guy now.

"Okay, so, you remember the heist I planned?"

Felix nodded, and Jörgen continued to tell him what had happened since then. The bracelets, and his encounter with the fairy prince.

"Hold on. You're telling me you met a real-life fairy? Like with wings? Like tinkerbell?"

"Yeah, I mean, no. Like I said, he wasn't like a tiny person with wings. More like... a grown-up. A very muscular, attractive grown-up. And very, very male. But yes, he had wings."

"Crazy..." Felix shook his head.

"But okay, go on. How did you get from a... fairy to looking like that? Did he enchant you?"

It was meant as a joke, but Jörgen nodded. He was just about to go on, when he suddenly heard a whisper in his ear, in the unmistakable voice of Zephir.

"Who is that? He looks handsome..."

"Shut up!" Jörgen cursed under his breath, earning a concerned look from his friend, who apparently had not heard anything, urging Jörgen to continue with his story.

"Yes, he kind of cursed me. I can't take the bracelets off, and they're like... changing me."

Felix took off his glasses to rub his face, eyeing the bracelets with interest. It took Jörgen a moment to realize, but when he did, his blood froze. Felix had not put his glasses back on. And his face looked... subtly different from before the rub.

"Don't. Don't you dare. Keep him out of this!" he whispered. Felix raised a confused eyebrow, and the fairy prince answered, again only audible to him.

"Oh, but I dare. Don't worry. He's your friend, remember? I'm only bringing out his genuine desire, nothing a good friend like you wouldn't know, right? Perhaps he even is the one..."

He could hear the prince chuckle as he watched in horror how Felix shifted his pose. He had always sat rather straight and prim and proper, like a good student and nerd, but now his legs fell open, and his chest puffed out a little, his arms resting on his thighs.

"Are you talking to yourself?"

He even sounded subtly different now. His voice was just a bit deeper, and somehow more confident than before.

"Sorry, it's this... this fairy. He's mocking me as we speak."

That didn't sound exactly sane, but he couldn't tell Felix that he was being changed as they spoke, right? He gulped, trying not to let his eyes linger on the exposed bulge of his friend for too long, and continued.

"Anyway. Tomorrow, he will claim me as his... perverted sex toy, unless I..."

He lost his train of thought as he watched Felix pull off his shirt, revealing a toned and muscular torso that he certainly didn't have before.

"What are you doing?!"

His friend just shrugged and grinned.

"Taking off my shirt. It's hot in here."

The words were innocent enough, but Felix' gaze seemed to burn a hole into Jörgen's soul, and his lips curled in a smirk as a full beard erupted around them.

"My throat is dry. Do you have something to drink? Some mead?"

His voice had dropped another octave and had become more gravelly. His eyes had also darkened, but Jörgen could hardly concentrate on anything else but the massive bulge in his friend's pants. His own cock was rock-hard again, and he was acutely aware of the damp spot of pre-cum visible on the front of his sweatpants.

He tore his eyes off and went to the cupboard where he kept his spirits, filling up a glass. When he returned, blue tattoos and chest hair had claimed Felix' upper body, and he was now sitting with legs spread, like the King of the Hill, a big grin on his face. He accepted the glass and downed it in one gulp, then wiped his mouth and burped, before slamming it on the table.

"Good! Now, on with the tale!"

Jörgen had to swallow several times as he returned to the kitchen counter, trying to avert his gaze from his friend. It was of no use.

"Um, so... the bracelets, they also make me super horny all the time, and suddenly I'm gay, and if I don't find true love until tomorrow, I..."

"Ha! And that's where your buddy Felix comes in, eh? That's why I'm here?"

Felix stood up, and Jörgen gasped.

"No! I wanted to ask you for advice! You're the smartest guy I know and..."

"You think I'm smart? That's nice of you to say, Jörgen, but we both know it's not true. We both know that, deep down, I'm just a horny bastard."

The impressive Viking-like man smirked and looked him up and down.

"I know little about love, but to me it sounds like all you need is a good friendly fuck from your brother Felgarr, am I right?"

He was now standing right in front of Jörgen, whose mind was racing at 100 miles per hour.

"What? No! I don't want to... I mean, you're not even gay!"

It was a straw to hold on to, but Felgarr just shrugged his muscular shoulders.

"Gay or straight, what does it matter? A true man is free from these shackles and listens only to his desires. And what I desire right now is a good fuck, and I know you do, too. So, what do you think?"

He grabbed Jörgen's bulge, who couldn't help but moan loudly at the touch. He wanted to resist, but he realized it was too late. His best friend Felix had been replaced by his best friend Felgarr, closer than a brother to him, a modern-age Viking and free from any restrictions or inhibitions. And he had a massive boner, and...

"I don't know," he muttered. "It's wrong. You're not... this isn't you."

Felgarr's hand left his bulge, and he grabbed his chin, forcing Jörgen to look up into his dark blue eyes.

"I have never been more me. Now, let me show you how a real man fucks."

He pressed a rough kiss on Jörgen's lips, and he could feel his resolve melt away. He moaned, and Felgarr's beard rubbed against his own. Their tongues danced around each other, and Jörgen's hand reached for the Viking's crotch, which betrayed a massive bulge. Felgarr chuckled into his mouth.

"You like my dick, brother?"

"I want it in my mouth," Jörgen begged.

Felgarr grinned and stepped back, quickly pulling off his pants and boxers to reveal a huge, hairy cock, complete with a heavy set of balls, making Jörgen's mouth water.

The following hours were a blur. Like two wild animals, the men rutted around on the bed, the floor, everywhere they could, kissing, sucking, fucking, and loving every minute of it. At some point in the evening, Jörgen found himself in his bed, cuddled up against Felgarr's broad chest, realizing that — albeit close — this wasn't true love. Of course, Felgarr loved him, like a brother and more. But even more than that, Felgarr loved his freedom. The Viking would never settle down, not even for Jörgen. But perhaps... even if Felgarr wasn't the solution to his curse, he could at least stay for another round in the morning.

Time is running out for Jörgen. Up until now, nothing worked to break the curse, and midsummer is just around the corner.

[markuss555]

♎ September 29th: Power Top, Malik Delgaty.

[markuss555]

Hey daddy it’s Oscar x I’d love you to create a character based on me who is rude to some chavs at a park and is grabbed and shoved in to their sweaty biceps, the smell turning him into a proper essex chav

thank you so much x

PARK PIT STOP

How very adorable of you to send me an ask like this boy. And that’s kinda the problem, ‘adorable’, a word hardly befitting a proper lad.

Forget these fucking ‘chavs at the park’, it’s not them you find yourself staring at, it’s me. Obviously. It’s me who has drawn your attention, standing staring at my phone in my Nike fleece set. A chain around my neck and chavvy trainers around my feet. For some reason you can’t seem to look away, stopped dead in your tracks, feet cemented to the ground as your eyes follow my movement. It’s like being in a trance, my aura has somehow hypnotised you, has your brain transfixed. Sure, you liked chavvy lads but you weren’t usually this brazen in your admiration of them. This was dangerous; what if you got caught? Especially someone like you: a cute effeminate twink whose most notable feature was their butt.

Several people in the park push past you, sighing in annoyance as you block the path. At this point it was kinda pathetic, you must have been watching intently for at least five minutes. Something about me was hypnotic, was pulling your attention towards me. The way I casually leaned against the wall, the way I held and spun the phone in my hand. Everything was utterly fascinating, like admiring some exhibit at a museum. It required further study. But then my head rose, my eyes locking with yours. You felt your heart rise in your chest, and yet still, you didn’t move. Didn’t look away.

“The fuck do you want mate?” I yell over to you, enraged, noticing your attention. And then the rage in my face quickly fades, replaced with a knowing smile. A smile that told you something bad was coming your way. “Fucking ey, not another one.” I chuckle. My accent cutting straight through you. Making you shiver in place. Suddenly you felt so small, tiny, like the world around you was towering above you. “Yur the 4th boy this week enchanted by my superior presence. I caught me a cutie an all.” The condescending compliment did more for you than you were willing to admit.

“Wh-what’s happening?” You stutter, frozen to the spot. As I get closer, my musk begins to surround you, clinging to you. It’s intense, a mix of deodorant and sweat circling around you as you continue to stare. “OMG. I’m not some freak, I swear. I can’t move.” You point down at your feet, as if that was going to resolve the situation.

“It’s my scent innit. Potent or sum shit. Just a tiny hint works for sum. I don’t really give a fuck, but it makes weak boys gooey eyed and braindead when near me. Makes them super fucking impressionable.” I explain, relishing the moment. Your eyes widen more with each word that leaves my mouth. “Hahaha! Like, I can reshape their mind into something, you know better.” I watch your expression intently, noticing your attempt to look away while your cheeks blush a crimson red. Your hands squirm at your sides and then erratically move forward in a vain attempt to cover the obvious tenting in your trousers. “Yeh. Bet you wish i’d hold you down, spit in your mouth and make you worship my fuckin’ feet. Ey lad?”

“What! N—no. Not at all.” You blurt out immediately, embarrassed by the insinuation. But at the same time, the suggestion - despite your insistence otherwise, makes your cock twitch. The intense smell pouring out from my body, didn’t help. You could sense it messing with your thoughts, clouding them. It was so strong and…bad? Well, maybe not bad. It was…manly. It was propa. Fit.

“Fam. You look like a keeper. I could do with some stupid fucking beta lad to glaze me and everything I do. A real loyal moron, happy to serve his fit fucking Alpha. How does that sound, shithead?” I smirk, leaning in close.

Wait, what? The remark catches you off guard, knocking some sense back into your thoughts. That sounded awful. You weren’t some chav thicko. “Please. I—I’m not like that. Not that kinda—“

“You’re like some posh fucking twat. Yeh. I’ll fix that mate. You just need one long fucking whiff straight from the source and you’re done. A nice propa pit sniff and yur brain will thicken into chav idiocy faster than you’ll be able to count. That pretty boy face of yours will soon be a right manly mug, it just needs to bathe in my rank sweat for a sec.”

You try your best to move - it really is now or never, but your feet don’t listen. You just happily stand there, shaking like a leaf as I raise my arm into the air. “Oh gawd, I don’t want to be like you. Like sum—some smelly, uneducated crude dunce.” You yell, your voice slightly cracking. It was unlike you to be so overtly insulting, and the slight accent you noticed leaving your mouth was cause for concern.

“That’s it lad. Give into it, my smell is already fixing you. Curing you of intelligence. Just fucking let it.” I step closer again, my arm raised - inching towards your anxious looking face. Your view is slowly being obscured by my armpit, the world around it disappearing. “Any last pathetic words as a nonce before I shove my fucking pit into your face and make you my dumb chav beta?” I stop momentarily, my moist pit hovering in front of you, like the sword of Damocles hanging over your head, ready to strike.

Your eyes dart left and right, unable to escape the horrid view. With a last gulp you open your mouth. “No! I’ll give you any—mphhhhh!” Your words are cut short as my pit plummets towards your open mouth, your tongue getting a full taste of my heady sweat. You can’t stop yourself from swallowing. Swallowing the flavour and feeling it spread inside you, corrupting you. You can feel it, feel it happening. It’s like your mind being stretched thin. Oh shit, you think - it’s being simplified, being made dumber…better. Ey, so much fucking better! It’s intoxicating! It’s lush as fuck! You want more! You open your mouth again and go to town on your new favourite drink, licking and swallowing at my underarm. You can hear me faintly laugh but it doesn’t dissuade you. You had to serve, to please me. It was your place as a basic beta chav. You whiff. You lick. You suck up my stench. And it was fine. Good. Lit as fuck.

My taste consumes you, warps you to my whims, my desires. Every part of you is swarmed by my sweaty scent, becoming part of you. The musk overwhelms and eradicates your pleasant aroma, so that you smell exactly like me, like a lad. You feel your face tingle, feel it contort. Your appearance betrays you. That pretty boyish expression devolves into a dim mannish scowl. Freeing you from manners and charm. That curly hair you spent an hour this morning styling straightens, pulling into a short fringe that perfectly frames your square boxy face and sharp jawline. Your eyes empty of any sign of intellect as the smell clouds and fogs your brain into a pleasurable dumb stupor.

It was all too much, too fast. You had to at least try to pull away, before it was too late, before you were too far gone. I feel you halfheartedly try to struggle under me, your arms lightly pushing at my chest. “Nice try pit pig. But you’re fuckin’ mine now.” I growl, reaching my hand around you. A muffled groan leaves your lips as I forcefully push your head further into my armpit. The consequence is instantaneous. Your tiny frame bulks up as I lean into you, your chest crunching as a small set of abs push against your tight skin. Lower down, your delicate feet explode, stretching exponentially and ripping your socks and shoes. The bottom of your juicy soles ripen immediately, dripping sweat and soaking the tattered cotton under them. You absently wiggle the toes of your new, huge, size 12 musky feet.

I am still not completely satisfied though; you can be better. More able to serve my needs. My hand gropes at your bubble butt, palming it like a basketball. It was adequate. It had room to grow. With a tight squeeze of my fingers, you feel your cheeks expand further in my hands. Expanding like giant bouncy balls. The hefty weight presses tightly against the rear of your trousers. A clear indent of your fat jiggle arse on full display to the world. A true dumper to be proud of.

Satisfied, I finally pull away, revealing the new, doltish you. I admire your different hairstyle, a harsh crop that practically says ‘i’m an idiot’. Your jaw remains slack as you look up at me in adoration. “Woah mate, that was fucking sick amirite?” You slur in a heavy accent, indistinguishable from that effeminate mousey voice you once owned. “I feel right horny.” You remark, crudely as you rub at your crotch.

“Shit bruv. Aren’t you a good fucking lad. I did you a right favour, didn’t I like?” My hand affectionately pats your back. After-all, you were an equal now. Well, no. Not an equal. Far from it, in fact. You were an idiot. But my idiot. Mine to use. Again and again, like the true beta fuckboy you were. “Didn’t I fam?” I repeat, this time more aggressively.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyes lock with mine once again. You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. There’s this lingering feeling that you should refuse. Some distant memory of being smart, educated. That you weren’t acting right. That something had happened to fuck with you, with your personality. You had to speak out against it, push back. Use every ounce of brain power to regain control of…of…of Oscar! That was it, your name. Oscar! Oscar was smart. Cute. It was there, just out of reach. Who you once were, that bubbly, funny twink with a charming smile. You had the words. The words that would undo this, save you. They were on the tip of your tongue. You knew what you needed to say and you were going to shout them out confidently. Just one sentence of—

*burp*

You hear the vile sound leave your mouth. And then the words came. “Fuck ya mate!” The lucid moment passed. Passed out your vulgar mouth and dissolved into nothingness, along with any hint of your past self. Of ‘Oscar’. Guffawing like a monkey, you lift your own pit and give it a deep sniff, enjoying the smell I imparted onto you like a drug.

“Ozzy boy, you’re such a dipshit! The fuck are you wearing? Come on, we need to get down to JD sports and sort you da fuck out. Now.”

“Yeh boss. Whatevs you say.” You agree without thought, nodding along with my words as the pleasant, addictive scent radiates from both our bodies. Now there was no escaping it. It would follow you everywhere you went. Like - you know, a bad smell. Insuring you remain dopey, chavy and subservient.

“Exactly, shit for brains, whatever I say. Serve your Alpha. Let’s see you hit the floor where you belong and kiss my rank fuckin’ feet.” I snap my finger and point down. As if giving a command to a obedient dog.

“Propa lush.” Your thick and slow voice slurs as you fall to your knees in the middle of the public park, lowering your face to my white nike socks. That addictive smell once again overwhelms you. Tells you to submit. To be the beta chav you were always meant to be. Without hesitation, you huff at my feet like they were a bouquet of sweet flowers. Worshipping your Alpha.

By the end of the day you looked like a completely different person: kitted out in new gear, a fresh cut and swaggering like a completely dumb chav.

[markuss555]

Chronivac Coworkers

--- Originally posted on 2022-09-19 by davidrodge ---

You sit down at your desk and rub your eyes. Another day of paper pushing and number crunching to get through. It wasn’t like you had done anything particularly interesting the previous night. You had stayed up a little later playing some mediocre matches of online gaming - but when I guess when you get to be around 40, your body constantly feels like it’s been dragged behind a car down the high way. Not that you didn’t take care of yourself, in fact you’d say you looked pretty good for your age…

You stretch in your seat, and reach for your coffee as your computer powers on. The few windows illuminating the office show the first few morning beams of scorching July sunlight. Behind you, the door opens and your Coworker David strides in.

“Morning Adam!” He says in a strangely cheerful voice. You put your coffee down from your lips and give him a stare. Normally David was about 20 minutes later than he already was, and usually he walked into the office with the same enthusiasm you’d see in a man walking towards a guillotine.

“Morning Davo,” you say, typing in your far too long corporate password. “You seem less Zombie-like today, what are you so excited about?”

David Smiled as he sat down in his chair opposite from yours. You were techniqually Davids senior Manager, but the two of you had developed a decent friendship between Friday drinking and the occasional tennis match.

“Oh Nothing Adam, I just got to the top of the waitlist for this super cool Software, and I was finally able to download it!”

You nodded, half listening as you began logging into all your engineering system.

“Very Interesting, what’s the program called? Is it like a Gaming platform?” David opened up his laptop and started to type furiously.

“No it’s not a game at all, It’s an app called the Chronivac. It’s supposed to be a reality altering software. I had a friend in the UK that sent me the information for it, He said that it completely changed his life.”

You paused from your coffee long enough to lean over and roll your eyes at him.

“I hope you didn’t have to pay any money for it.” You moaned, “This Job doesn’t pay you enough for you to be wasting your time on Overseas Scams.”

David was absolutely transfixed on his laptop. A wide, slightly crazed looking grin spreading over his face.

“It actually ended up costing me thousands of dollars,” he said, now in a far quieter voice, “but it was completely worth it.”

“THousands Of DoLLARS!” You exploded, immediately turning the heads of the fellow desk jockeys nearby,

“SHut UP man,” David hissed, half closing his laptop defensively. You simmered as the both of you waited for the rest of your colleagues to return back to their work. David narrowed his Eyes at you, smile creeping back onto his face.

“It wasn’t a waste of money and I can prove it too you. Just let me find your profile really quick.”

“Wait, this thing has a profile for me on it?” You said, now even more concerned then before. “David, This seems like some really dangerous software And I definitely thing that you shou-“

Davids Computer cut you off with a cheerful beep, and immediately you felt a strange sensation course through your body.

“What the hell!” You shout as you start the world around you starts to grow. You feel a strange tightening sensation in your body, as you glance downward. Your clothing seemed to liquify, shifting from a smart suit and dress shirt into a casual tee. In shock you glance at the bay window and catch a reflection of yourself. There you were…. Or rather, there you were 20 years ago! You lift your hands up too your face and feel your skin. Wrinkle free, young, and real!

“ there’s no way this is real,” you say in a whisper. This has to be a dream you think, as you continue to explore your now unfamiliar body.

David leaned over the edge of his desk beaming,

“ See I told you man! This program is incredible!” He looked you over, seeming to be proud of his work. “Dang it’s crazy what taking 20 years off a man can do!”

You take a brief pause from reveling at your new found youth.

“ this is incredible David! How is this even possible?!”

“It’s the chronivac man! Like I said it’s freaking amazing and can change anything!” The wild grin still fresh on his face.

You stand up, coursing with a newfound energy.

“WE HAVE TO TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THIS!” You say ecstatically. The grin drops from David’s face.

“What?”

You begin to jog away from the desks, heading straight for the break room where you knew, most of your coworkers would still be gathered.

“We can change anything with this! This is going to be the coolest thing any of these morons have ever heard about!”

“Wait! No stop! Aww shit-“ you hear David shout as you continued running. You barely processed his voice or cared. You felt so alive! The excitement in your chest was all you could feel or even think of right now. You slid around the corner, breaking into a sprint down the hallway. You could hardly wait to introduce your new younger self to your coworkers and tell them about this amazing new device.

“GUYS, YOU WOULDNT BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO-“

Suddenly your voice catches In your throat, as your mouth dries out In an instant. You keep running, starting to trip over yourself on the concrete floor.

“ what the” you gasp through a dry mouth. Your tongue feels like a pillow in your mouth as you tumble to the floor. You are vaguely aware of the sight of your hands, which appear to be changing color and texture. Your vision fades with the sight of your fingers turning bright blue and seeming to collapse in on themselves.

You can’t seem to find your voice, or be able to move as you feel yourself shrinking. You feel an indescribable softening sensation on all sides as you slide to a stop. Suddenly, it’s over as quickly as it started, and there you lay on the floor. Your brain slows down, filled only with the most basic thoughts now.

“ what….. happened…” you think to yourself with great effort. Your aware of footsteps coming towards you from your position on the floor.

“ Sorry about that man, I just couldn’t have you sharing my new toy with the rest of the world. It’s kind of like a private club, ya know?

….David? You think through fuzzy thoughts.

“ I’m still learning how to use the program haha, but you did turn out to be a nice pair of underwear Adam.”

You feel your now small form being lifted from the floor, then shoved into a pocket. David’s pocket.

“Don’t worry man, we’ll get you sorted out. I think you’ll make a really good practice for me before I start changing myself.”

You couldn’t respond at all, but felt almost at home In the musky warm pocket you were haphazardly shoved into.

….so … nice… you find yourself thinking. You try to shake the fuzz out of your primitive mind. Trying to remember anything besides the new world you found yourself in. You faintly hear David through his clothing.

“ alright, I think the first thing we should do is get you home so we can have some fun.” You feel yourself being lifted from his pocket and placed back on the ground. You felt a longing to be back in the warm musky dark.

“this time however, I think we’ll turn your awareness off.”

David smiled punching his new specifications into the chronivac program. Adam wouldn’t remember any of what just happened, and also be open to his suggestions. The underwear on the pavement started to expand, shifting and changing until Adam once again stood in front of him with a slightly dazed look on his face.

“is it weird that that kind of turned me on…” David muttered to himself.

“Dave… what the hell is going on? Adam said In a bewildered voice. His voice echoed in the parking garage that they now stood in. David smiled, and typed into the chronivac.

“you were about to give me a ride home, remember big guy?”

Adam, still looking confused, but seemingly unaware of the last 20 minutes of his life shrugged and fished for his car keys.

“Alright man but don’t judge about the mess in my car.” He smiled and clicked his horn. The two of you walked over to the old SUV Adam drove and stepped inside, scooting aside the old take out bags and random junk. Adam sheepishly got In and fastened his seatbelt.

“Thanks for taking me home man, I wasn’t feeling the best.” David said hiding a smile while still typing in his computer. Adam started the car and began to pull out of the parking lot.

“no problem man, it’s been a boring day for me anyway.”

I’m sure it was… David thought pulling up Adams profile again. David pulled up Adams profile. He continued to explore it as they got on the highway - passing the braves stadium. Now it was time to really see what this program could do. He clicked on the occupation section and replaced senior engineer with Uber driver and hit enter. The cars interior suddenly shifted, quickly becoming neater and tidier. An Uber sticker appeared on the windshield. David smiled and Adam glanced over at him.

“Hey you owe me tho David,” he smiled “I could be making money right now instead of driving your ass around.”

“for sure man, I’ll make it up to you.” David grinned. He clicked onto Adams body specifications.

Alright let’s slide that age way down… maybe 22? He looked good like that, but let’s pump up his muscle mass by 80 pounds and increase his attractiveness level. David pulled open Adams identity profile and messed around with a few things. Instead of being a work friend, Adams new relationship to David was a complete stranger. David deleted Adams previous educational experience tab and input college fraternity brother into his profile. He dropped the IQ level down to one of the lower settings. It might be nice for Adam to worry about less right? He input “easygoing” into his profile. He hit shuffle on race, just for some added fun and eagerly hit enter.

the change was immediate. Adam shifted in his seat, losing a few inches of height but gaining a ridiculous amount of mass everywhere. His legs filled in his pants so quickly David thought they might burst. His arms ballooned outwards and his face shifted to a cocky smirk. His pecs jutted out against his shirt, bouncing with the cars motion. The clothes he previously wore liquified and stretched tight against his body - becoming a simple tee shirt and short shorts. His hair styled itself into a skin fade, and a tan crept over his body. A backwards cap materialized on his head, and a stud In his ear as he glanced over at David.

“What? You like what you see man haha?”

The new Adam raised his arm and flexed his now massive bicep.

You both laughed as you felt a mixture of pride and arousal. Adam put a beefy arm on the dash of his car and started typing into the gps, stopping at an intersection .

“Where was it you said you wanted to be dropped off again sir?”

David rattled off his address, trying to hide the growing… excitement that was beginning to show In his crotch. The new Adam glanced down and smirked at David, but continued driving. David smiled, reviewing Adams profile again.

“ So what do you have going on in your life… Adam right?” David asked, trying for conversation with his previous boss.

“We’ll I’m just chilling at the university right now…” Adam said with a dull laugh, “spending a lot of time at the gym and with the boys right now.”

David nodded absentmindedly, sliding Adams sexuality to nearly 100 Percent gay. Just to see what would happen. He slid the Libido curser to high and glanced back up at Adam. A distracted look now plastered on his face, one hand on the wheel, one hand now migrating down to his shorts.

“… and you know… spending time… with the boys.”

David could barely contain his excitement as the two pulled up to his house. Adam threw the vehicle in park and shifted his Adonis frame in his seat to face David.

“Hey man, don’t even worry about the ride today, it was nice meeting you. I’ll void the bill In the app.” He said with a smile. David met his gaze and blushed. Oh my god, was he flexing?

“Oh that’s really too nice of you man, there’s really no need.” David stuttered

Adam smiled and bit his lip, he hopped out of the car to get David’s door.

“No I insist. I Really enjoyed being your driver today.”

David stepped out of the car, amazed by what he had been able to do to his friend. The new Adam held out his hand for a solid high five. He winked and said,

“Message me if you ever need a ride again bro.” With that, he strutted back to his car, then got in and sped down the road - blasting music.

David stood on the edge of the driveway. Clutching his lap top and trying to calm himself. He began to stride into his house, weighing his options. People had warned him, that the chronivacs power could really go to your head if you didn’t have a handle on it. He unlocked the door and paced into his living room. David hadn’t thought much about it, but man had he really surprised himself. In the space of 1 hour he had changed his boss into a horny college himbo without so much as a blink.

He through himself onto the couch and started up at the ceiling. David smiled, thinking of the limitless possibilities that now awaited him. He could literally become whatever he wanted to. Could change the world in whatever way he wanted. The possibilities were so endless p, he had no idea what to do.

After a moment of watching the rotating fan David grinned. He didn’t know all the things he wanted to change, but he did know what he wanted right now. He pulled his laptop back up and fired up the chronivac. Adams profile still displayed on screen. David clicked into Adams relationship status and began clicking around. It took a second to find the option, “willing to sleep with any man.” But David aggressively slammed the enter button and pulled out his phone, finding an Uber text string with the new Adam.

“Thanks again for the free ride today man. Was wondering if you wanted to ride anything else tonight? 😘🍆”

He waited breathlessly for a moment before three dots appeared on his screen, and then a message. Apparently a picture the new Adam had taken at the gym.

“on my way back big guy”

David slammed his laptop closed and ran to change into some more relaxed clothes. That was enough messing with the chronivac for the day. It was amazing what a horny stud he had been able to change his boss into. And ridiculous how quickly David had fallen for him.

David wrestled with his tie and glanced out the bedroom window as a car raced up. The new and improved Adam jumped out and started sauntering towards the door, already removing his shirt. David could only stares as he felt himself begin to go hard. He and Adam were going to have a lot of fun tonight.

[markuss555]

I… I didn’t mean to do it…

Every time I finally have sex with a new guy they keep turning into Alpha bros obsessed with breeding… Now it’s starting to happen even earlier in my relationships and I don’t know what to do!

You didn’t mean to become a curse.

At first, you just thought it was bad luck. Every time you dated a guy — a cute barista, a shy accountant, even that artsy dude from the co-op — they’d change. Not slowly, not subtly. One week, they’re cuddling on the couch, watching Drag Race and eating vegan tacos with you. The next? They’re shirtless in the mirror, flexing their biceps, pounding protein shakes, and calling you “bro” while they scroll through TikTok thirst traps of gym girls squatting.

Then it got worse. They’d ghost you, or worse, laugh in your face — “Yo, man, I’m just not into dudes anymore, bro. Gotta find me some tight little slit, y’know?” All of them, straight as arrows. Obsessed with “breeding” like it was a damn religion.

You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. Maybe some weird pattern. Maybe trauma. Maybe a cosmic joke.

But the last one? Nate? The sweetest guy you ever met — soft, sensitive, big eyes, always blushing — he changed before you even fucked. One minute, he’s giggling and holding your hand, next minute he’s burping, scratching his balls, talking about getting a sleeve tattoo and smashing pussy at some Lake Havasu party.

You lost it.

That’s why tonight you’re trying something new.

You close the door of your tiny, cluttered bedroom, the air stale with candle smoke and the faint smell of yesterday’s takeout. Your hands are shaking as you drag the big standing mirror over by your bed. You’ve never done this before — but you need to see it. See if the curse really starts with you.

Maybe you are the problem.

You drop your sweatpants, flopping onto the bed, your heart hammering in your chest. The mirror catches you fully: pale, scrawny, a little soft around the belly, your messy hair falling in your face. You stare at yourself for a moment, unsure. Then you spit into your hand and grab your dick.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Think of Sam...”

You remember Sam’s lips, the way he used to kiss your neck, his soft moans, the way he’d squirm underneath you. Your cock stiffens, but you feel... weird. Your skin tingles.

You glance at the mirror.

Your jaw looks... different. Sharper?

You stroke harder, trying to focus. But now you’re thinking about the last time Nate ditched you for some random girl. He was laughing about her “fertile little bod,” calling you “bro” as he packed up his gym bag. The memory should piss you off — but instead it makes your cock throb.

Your hand tightens. You grunt.

In the mirror, your stubble is thickening. Your face looks rougher, brow heavier. You blink. “What the hell…”

Your other hand grips your thigh — and freezes. Your thigh is huge. Veins popping. Thick, hairy. The soft pudge is gone, replaced with taut, beefy muscle.

“Fuck,” you groan. The sound is deep, guttural.

You can’t stop stroking. Your balls ache, heavy and full. The smell of sweat hits your nose — your sweat, pungent and rank. You look in the mirror again and your chest is massive, your pecs jutting out, nipples hard and wide. You let go of your dick and flex, unable to help yourself. Your arms explode with size, veins snaking up to your bulging biceps.

“Fuckin... yeah,” you grunt, voice deep and slow, dumb.

Panic flickers in your brain, but it’s smothered under a tidal wave of lust. Your dick is huge now, thick and dripping. You can’t stop stroking it. Your hand’s rough, calloused. Your nails are grimy. You reek like a gym locker room.

“Shit, dude,” you growl. “Need to fuck... need a tight hole…”

You stumble to your feet, swaying, breathing hard. The mirror shows a beast — some frat god, shaved head, beard thick, muscles gleaming with sweat. Your old self is gone. You grab your cock with both hands and roar, hips jerking forward.

Your brain is static. Nothing but pussy. Breeding. Dominance.

You stare in the mirror, eyes wild.

“Who the fuck... was I?”

You can’t remember. Your name? Your old life?

You scratch your balls, fart loudly, and grin.

“Damn... some homo prob lived here. Fuckin’ freak. Not me. I’m Brody. Fuckin’ pussyhound.”

You laugh, grab your phone, and start scrolling through Insta chicks, drooling at their asses. Every contact in your phone, every guy you knew — you’re texting them now. Daring them to come over.

The curse lives in you now.

And any guy who steps into your domain... won’t stay a guy for long. Not really.

You’re still in front of the mirror, panting, your hand pumping your now fat, veiny cock like it’s the only thing that matters in the universe. Your room’s dim light flickers across your sweat-soaked skin, glistening off muscles you shouldn’t have. Your reflection flexes at you — big, dumb, horny. You don’t recognize yourself. You don’t want to — but you can’t stop looking.

Your old voice is screaming in the back of your mind, muffled, pathetic: Stop. This isn’t you. You’re gay. You don’t want this. This isn’t who you are—

“Ffffffuckin’ shut up,” you grunt, spitting on the floor, scratching your bloated, hairy nuts. “Why you talkin’ like some queer-ass bitch?”

The words hit you hard. You feel them. Crude. Heavy. So natural coming out of your new mouth. You try to flinch — but you’re flexing your chest instead, bouncing your new pecs with a stupid grin.

“Heh... fuuuuck yeah, bro... these pecs? Fuckin’ perfect for motorboatin’ some dumb slut,” you laugh, voice like gravel in a beer can.

Your brain is fogged, drenched in testosterone. You’re not thinking — you’re reacting. Twitching. Flexing. Stroking. Your dick’s leaking pre all over your floor, and you don’t even care. You’re focused on your scent now — sweaty, foul, like old gym socks and stale Axe body spray. You breathe it in, grinning wider.

“Fuck, I smell awesome,” you growl, lifting your arm and huffing your own armpit. “Gonna drive bitches wild, bruh.”

Your old self is clawing for air, screaming in horror: No. No. I’m not this. I’m gay. I’m not some womanizing piece of shit—

But all that gets drowned out by one new thought pulsing through you:

Breed. Breed. Breed.

Your brain can’t focus on anything else. You try to remember… anything. Your name. Your job. The last book you read. But nothing comes. Just flashes of pussy. Curves. Ass. Tits. Faces blurred, just bodies to conquer.

“Dude, I need some fuckin’ hole,” you groan, grabbing your cock like it’s a weapon. “Need to stuff some bitch full, man. Breed the fuck outta her. Fill her up good.”

You lurch to your dresser, stumbling, nearly knocking over your lamp — but you don’t care. You’re tearing through your drawers, tossing your old clothes — tight jeans, pastel shirts, that stupid pride tank top — all of it landing in a pile.

“Faggot clothes,” you mutter, sneering.

You pull out a stringer tank — where did that even come from? — tight, black, low cut, showing off every vein on your arms. You tug it on, your nipples hard under the thin fabric. Then the shorts — tiny, gray, gym-worn, bulge barely contained. You look in the mirror and groan.

“Fuuuuuck,” you flex, licking your lips. “I’m a fuckin’ beast. Pussy’s gonna be beggin’ for this cock.”

You can’t stop touching yourself. Your hand slides under your waistband, grabbing your meat, stroking slow, savoring every filthy inch.

You’re Brody now. You know it.

You strut around the room, hips swaying like you’re posing for some thirst trap. You grab your phone — your old self still in there, contacts, messages, photos — and you scroll through, sneering at your old pics.

There’s one of you and Nate, smiling together. You stare at it, lips curling into a cruel smirk.

“Fuckin’ loser. Who’s that skinny homo?” you laugh, deleting it.

But then a thought hits you. A sick, horny thought. You open your contacts. Scroll. Find Kyle — your ex, the sweet, shy guy you ghosted last week. He still texts you every night.

Hey, you okay? I miss you. Please talk to me.

You grin, thumbs flying.

yo bro u up? come over bring beer

You toss your phone on the bed, heart pounding. Not with fear — but excitement.

“Gonna fix that little homo,” you mutter, laughing. “Turn his ass into a real man. Just like me.”

You grab your crotch, adjusting your monster bulge.

“Shit, bruh. Pussyhounds gotta multiply. Gotta spread the alpha.”

You glance at the mirror one last time. Your eyes are blank, dumb, hungry. You flex, tongue sliding over your lips.

Old you is gone — smothered under sweat, stink, and muscle. Buried under Brody. No thoughts. No morals. No memory.

Just one thing left.

Breed. Every guy you touch. Every dude who dares come near you. He’s next.

And you’re so fuckin’ ready.

[markuss555]

Nasl Sheikh (نسل شيخ)

Nasl Sheikh, also commonly known as the breeder shake brand, is starting to get traction around my place. All the jacked guys at the gym have been recommending it for a while. I'll try it out and let you guys know how it tastes. The free shaker bottle that came with my purchase is a bit gross though. Wasn't expecting the super straight motto, but I guess you can't expect much from an Egyptian sports supplement brand...

Would you guys like to try some as well?

[markuss555]

Nasl Sheikh (نسل شيخ) Update

Yo, so I tried Nasl Sheikh, that brand all the guys were pushing at the gym. To be honest, I don't know how to rate it. Flavour-wise it was above average I would say: kind of sweet, but with a salty aftertaste which was kinda weird. I wish I could tell you what flavour the man at the supplements store gave me so you can try it as well, but I think it's written in arabic. I'll try to find out exactly what it is later.

From what the guys told me, this is supposed to naturally boost my testosterone, which will help me pack muscle easier at the gym, although I have my doubts if such a product can be called natural.

But holy shit, I’m already noticing stuff. I know more testosterone equals more hair, but I wasn't expecting something like this as a twink. Like, I feel like my pits are a bit hairier than before, and uh, down below too. Check these pics.

I swear I shaved not too long ago, maybe the shake (the sheikh?) works too well? Feeling weird as hell. Anyone else mess with this Egyptian stuff?

[markuss555]

You need to try this

Sup dudes, what's good? Been a minute since I updated y'all on the grind, and damn, shit's gettin' wild. This shake, man… it hits hard, bro. I feel like a totally different person, and I ain't even mad about it.

First off, the test is FLOWIN', bro. Like, I'm hornier than ever. You can bet that the testosterone from all the shakes I drank these past days is pumping through me, and it's gotten me so FUCKIN' stiff. But here's the weird part: the gay porn I usually watch to relieve myself is not hittin' the same. I'll load up a video, and it's like… nothing. My dick's ready to go, but my brain's just not vibing with it like it used to. It's freaking me out a bit, not gonna lie. Hopefully these shakes don't make you impotent or whatever lol.

Check this out though, my body's changin' FAST. I snapped this pic yesterday after waking up, and bro, I look RIPPED. Finally, getting some real progress at the gym. Gotta thank the guys at the gym for the tip, I wouldn't have gotten as close to twink death without these sheikhs.

And the hair? Got a bit everywhere now. Chest (finally!), arms, legs, you name it. Really starting to look like a MAN now.

And let's not talk about my ass, bro. I'm gonna have to stop training legs so much at the gym if it keeps growing like this. It's straight-up LEVELLED UP, not to mention the sweat that comes with it, which in combination with the farts I get 'cause of the Nasl shakes, makes it smell way stronger than before. Never thought I'd have to worry about that, but here we are.

Had to hit up this local immigrants' shop across from the supplement store ‘cause my old underwear was gettin' shredded, no cap. Thankfully, the dude at the supplement store knew what he was talkin' about and they hooked me up with some new gear that fits this thicker, juicier backside. Snapped this pic while chillin' in bed - check the gains!

Also, as you may have noticed I've got a bit of stubble. I've been shaving it the last couple of days but I feel like it keeps coming back stronger lol. Honestly don't mind the new look, what do you think?

I'm still tryna figure out what's in this Nasl Sheikh stuff. Like, don't get me wrong bro, the taste kinda grew on me, but I still would like to know what it is. I tried translating some of it with Google Translate but you know how shit that is. All I got from it was some sort of seed, seed of the leader? WTF does that mean, bro. Like, the bros at the gym keep hypin' it up, sayin' it's makin' me more alpha or whatever. I'm startin' to talk like 'em too when we're together at the gym, kinda copying some of the words they say without even knowing what they mean. Dunno, they sound kinda cool.

Anyway, that's the update for now. You should try this shit. Peace out, dudes.

[markuss555]

Sheikh Up, Bros

Bros, I'm writing this at 2 a.m., shakin'. I think I'm addicted to these shakes. Decided to go all-in and bulk up, no more twink shit - wanted to pack on size, and damn, it's workin'. My body's gettin' thick, muscles swellin' like crazy. Got a sexy tan on, about fuckin' time. I've got hair's poppin' up everywhere… like in my chest or my musky pits, and my face… letting the beard grow ya know, just feels right. I'm feelin' like a straight-up beast, sweating hard, smellin' all musky after the gym. These shakes got this weird salty kick that sticks in my throat, but I'm hooked, wallah.

Last night, the gym bros dragged me to this shisha spot after closing. We were puffin' clouds, laughing, and they were hyping me up, sayin' I'm lookin' like a real alpha now. Their slang's rubbin' off - my mouth's spittin' akh and yalla like I grew up with 'em. Felt so natural, sittin' there, hookah in hand, talkin' about gains and girls. Yeah, girls. Never thought I'd say that, but this chick at the gym today - curvy, tight leggings - had me starin'. My dick twitched, no lie. I think I'm done with fa—uh gay porn; maybe normal porn is more of my thing now? Idk bros, I'll tell y'all what I think of it later, I just know shit's hittin' different than it used to.

I feel so fuckin' manly, for real. Snapped this pic after my last set, like look at these gains… got no more abs for now, but just the bulk size akh… not to talk about the hair and the bronze glow. Starting to look like a REAL man, wallah.

And brother, my cock's feels so fuckin' different now. It's long, brown, and circumcised, no clue how it got this way, but I'm flexin' it for y'all. When I stroke it - fuck, the weight of it in my hand, the heat, the way it pulses with every slow pull, it's got me goin' dumb. Snapped this pic to show y'all what this sheikh's doin'. Look at this thing. And yeah, it's big, deal with it. I swear this shake is turnin' me into a fuckin' BREEDER... Didn't use to leak that much before but now? Now I'm a fuckin' faucet, bro.

Weirdest shit happened this morning tho. Before hittin' the weights, I just… knelt down in the locker room, praying. Didn't plan it, just felt right, like my body knew the moves. Afterward, I was hummin' some tune, half in English, the other half Arabic, like it was part of me. The bros saw and just nodded, like I'm one of 'em. I'm craving the shake more than ever - downing it twice a day, no question. Tried squintin' at the shake's label tonight. Made out some words - somethin' 'bout "seed" and "alpha" - but who gives a FUCK? This shit's workin', and I'm too jacked to care. Y'all gotta try this shit, wallah. I'm becoming a fuckin' king, and you could be next. Who's down?

[markuss555]

The Principal’s Solution

(Original story posted June 6th 2023) This story has been mildly Updated

When Mr David Everett was called into the Principal’s office to have a one on one meeting, this was the last thing he’d been expecting.

“You’re firing me!?” David bellowed.

“David, that’s not what I’m-” Principal Bryant was cut off before he could finish.

“What is it? Budget cuts? Because I sure as hell know I haven’t done anything to warrant this? I’ve worked for this school for years! I’ve never even had so much as a sick day!” David rambled on justifiably. After all he couldn’t see a single reason why they wouldn’t want him working as an English teacher here anymore.

Finally however, the Principal put an end to David’s ranting. “Mr Everett! Listen to me!” Principal Bryant shouted above David’s tangent. “You are not fired. If you’d simply let me finish I was going to say that you’ll be relieved of your current position so that you may take a new one.”

David was a little confused upon hearing this. “What… like a promotion?” He asked, prompting him to wonder if Mrs Freeman, the current head of the English department, had finally decided to retire after spending an eternity here.

“Sort of. Though it’s probably not what you’re imagining right now.” Principal Bryant sighed, shifting a little in his chair. “Look. As you know we’ve been low on gym teachers at the school for a while now. Now with Mr Riggs leaving at the end of next week we’ll be down to only two proper gym teachers. Miss LeGrande and Mr Price. Without someone to help them, they’re going to be stretched pretty thin. That’s why I’ve decided to move you from the English department over to the Physical Education department. Permanently.”

“W-what??” This hadn’t been what David was expecting at all. Moving from English to teach Physical Education instead? “But sir? I’m not a Gym teacher? I teach English! I can’t just switch!”

“Oh come on, of course you can. The English department has plenty of teachers and trainee’s already. I’m sure it’ll do just fine without you.”

David squinted over at Principal Bryant. He couldn’t believe that his superior couldn’t see the very clear issue with this whole suggestion. “What?! No, I mean that I have absolutely no idea how to teach a gym class! Hell, I haven't even touched a football since I was a student. How do you expect me to just jump in starting teaching multiple classes??” He complained and rightly so. From his point of view this decision seemed completely illogical. “Can’t you just hire someone else? Surely there’s someone else far better suited for this.”

Principal Bryant simply smiled across his desk with a strange glint in his eye that David couldn’t decipher. “Don’t worry Mr Everett. I already have a plan that’ll help you get perfectly settled in with your new position. Soon it’ll be like you never taught English at all.” He chuckled, confusing David even further. Yet also slightly piquing his interest. “As for the reason I chose you specifically… well you’ve already said it yourself. You’ve never once taken a sick day and you’re always on schedule, if not ahead of it. That’s the kind of dedication I’m looking for in the Gym department. Someone very dependable.”

Before David had the chance to question his boss any further, Principal Bryant jumped up from his desk with a strange sense of whimsy that David found a bit unsettling. He seemed oddly excited as whipped open one of the desk draws and pulled out a laptop. Principal Bryant flipped the laptop open and began tapping away, occasionally glancing up at David with an almost lustful smirk. It was a look David had grown all too familiar with over the years. He’d suspected for a long time now that The Principal had a thing for him but he’d never spoken up about it in case he just had the wrong impression. But the look he’d received just now, the glint of desire behind his boss’ eyes, was unmistakable.

“Sir I-” David was cut off before he could even finish a sentence.

“Ah! here it is!” Bryant exclaimed before quickly spinning the laptop around to face the couch David was sitting on. “Now Mr Everett. I know you might have some doubts and concerns about this change but this training video I’ve put together should be more than enough to ease your worries. Now if you just sit back and relax for me, we can get started!” He said with a reassuring yet somewhat devious smile.

Once again David hardly had any time to protest before his boss clicked play on the video. What he was greeted with was a purple and gold hypnotic spiral spinning at a swift entrancing pace. Going round and round in a fashion so captivating that David couldn’t bring himself to look away. The spiral was just so alluring, so gorgeous to look at that the rest of the world just seemed to fall away. He didn’t even take notice of the Principal sitting back down from behind the laptop to watch what was about to unfold.

After a few minutes of David staring wordlessly at the screen ahead of him, a voice began speaking to him through the video…

Welcome to your one way trip from being a regular ol’ English teacher to becoming a strong and confident Gym teacher that your students and colleagues alike are guaranteed to look up to! My name is Mr Wavell and I’ll be guiding you through this exquisite experience.

The masculine voice spoke with a warm soothing tone which helped to relax David even further, readying his body and mind for what was to come.

Now let’s get started shall we David? Of course, being an English teacher, you should already know that having the right education and qualifications for the job is essential for becoming a teacher in any area. So let’s get that sorted shall we?

David didn’t even flinch at how this video seemed to be addressing him directly. He simply continued to focus on the voice and nod along as the spiral continued to swirl in a 3D like manner. It was as if it were reaching out to him and pushing inside his brain. Pushing so far in that he could feel the gold and purple colours pulsing inside of his head.

Of course we’ve got to make some room for all these new memories and experiences so…

It would’ve been impossible to describe what exactly he was feeling right now. It was like something reaching deep into his mind and sifting through his memories until it found what it was looking for. David’s mouth hung open a little as any memories he had of learning English at an advanced level past high school and training to become an English teacher were yanked right out of his head. His knowledge of the subject was immediately set back to a much more basic level not becoming of an English teacher at all.

Perfect. And now to replace them with your proper ones.

One cue David could feel his mind being stuffed with new memories. Ones where he’d taken basic and later advanced classes in subjects like sports studies and physical education until eventually becoming certified to teach to Gym. Even though these memories were seemingly fabricated, they felt so incredibly real that David found it hard to tell the difference. He can remember it all so clearly. Clearer than most of his true memories.

Good! We’re already on the right track it seems. With that now out the way you’re already well on your way to becoming a great Gym teacher. But of course what good is all your new knowledge on teaching sports and physical health if you’re not practicing what you teach? Let’s change that shall we?

More and more memories pushed their way inside David’s brain. Forced out were his memories of reading in his spare time and going to book conventions, replaced by memories of him joining a football club and running around a field with a bunch of other dudes throwing a ball back and forth while tackling each other to the ground. He’d never been that keen on sports and yet now he looked back very fondly on memories of kicking a soccer ball around with some mates in his free time. Suddenly he could recall having played tons of different sporting activities and having loved almost all of them! He would even watch sports on the TV late in the evening on most nights after work. Suddenly he couldn’t imagine for even a second why he’d thought that he didn’t like sports. It was his entire life!

Principal Bryan watched on in astonishment from behind his desk as these new mental changes began to take a very noticeable physical effect on David’s body as well. David had of course always been a rather average guy physically. Having very little muscle on his frame and a small belly. However that soon began to change as any fat on his body started melting away thanks to countless hours of playing sports. In its place some lean muscle began to grow, giving him a physique that reflected great physical health. Even the suit David was wearing found itself fitting his body in a much more flattering way.

Upon witnessing this little transformation, the Principal couldn’t help rubbing his bulge underneath the desk. Completely enthralled by what the video was doing to David. He wasn’t sure exactly how well this was going to work at first. He had faith of course but watching this second hand magic ensnare a man so easily was a sight to behold.

Good, good. You’re already looking more and more like a man who’s ready to coach a bunch of jocks. But surely a man like you spends a lot of his time working out in the gym as well right? It can’t all just be sport and cardio? No doubt you’re always lifting weights and downing protein shakes when you get the chance. You must’ve put on some noticeable muscle from all that too.

David nodded along to everything he was hearing as he started to remember spending a sizable amount of his free time at the local gym so he could pump up his muscles. Once again it caused a ripple effect in the physical world. His suit began to feel tighter by the second as his muscles bulged significantly, stretching the fabric of his button down and khaki pants to their limits. His growing biceps threatened to tear his sleeves, almost as much as his pecs threatened to pop the top buttons on his shirt and send them flying across the room. His thighs thickened into trunks of hard muscle while his ass ballooned until his pants looked as though they were painted on and ready to burst at the slightest movement.

Seeing this, the principal had already unzipped his own pants and was jerking over his employee’s transformation.

That’s it… Looking like a proper example of physical health already. But let’s add a dash of heightened manliness to that body of yours shall we? After all, as a coach you’ve also got to serve as a pillar of masculinity at the school for everyone to look up to.

A shiver traveled across David’s entire form as the next change took place. The small amount of body hair he’d once had began to increase many times over as the hair on his arms and legs multiplied. It spread up across his stomach and chest until he had a thick pelt of manly hair covering his body. However this change was largely unseen by the two men, besides a little chest hair poking out from David’s collar, due to his constrictive suit. Though it was impossible to miss David’s sudden growth of facial hair immediately after. He went from a 5 o’clock shadow to a thick full beard in moments! Principal Bryant had always thought David would look hotter with a beard and damn was he right. However there was one last change that the Principal only noticed when David started shifting uncomfortably in his chair a little. His bulge was getting bigger. David was trying to adjust himself because his cock and balls were growing fatter!

Now how about you show off some of those new improvements to your boss? Take off that tight button down you’re wearing David. I bet a man like you must hate wearing suits anyway.

“Yeah… I hate suits…” David muttered to himself before practically ripping his shirt open, popping most of the buttons in the process. The Principal’s eyes bulged at the mere sight of it, getting to see David’s hairy muscular pecs on full display now. “What do you think sir?” He asked his boss in a very monotone yet noticeably deeper voice followed up by him flexing and bouncing his pecs a little.

Bryant hadn’t realised just how personalised this video had been made. He knew that Mr Wavell was good but he didn’t realise he was this good. “Y-yes Mr Everett. You look great! Better than great even. You’re so hairy and… just wow. You look even hotter than before!” He was lost for words. Hardly being able to believe the hairy stud before him was the same man he’d watched from afar ever since hiring him. He couldn’t stop jerking his cock under the desk like a perv, leaking pre-cum while David flexed his arms a little to show off his biceps and hairy pits.

I have no doubt Mr Bryant is enjoying the show right now but we’ve still got a few more things to do David. Next we’ve got to fix those clothes of yours. After all, what kind of Gym teacher wears brown loafers and suit pants?

David nodded along, agreeing with everything the voice was telling him as his clothes began to change. The aforementioned loafers were first to be affected. They rippled slightly as the colour began to change, lightening from brown to slightly dirty white as the fabric started to alter. Laces formed on the top while the soles of the shoes became more padded. Before long David adorned a pair of trusty white sneakers while his long black socks shrunk away into worn white ankle socks.

During this Principal Bryant leaned over his desk a little to get a better look at what was going on. He would’ve been more surprised at sudden change in footwear had he not just witnessed David bulk up in front of his very eyes mere moments ago. Instead Bryant watched on in curiosity as even David himself stared down to watch as his black suit pants were about to undergo a change of their own.

The belt had already evaporated into thin air while the cotton fabric of the pants was amidst transitioning into polyester. The colour began lightening significantly while the pants legs retracted, showing off more of David’s hairy calves by the second. Soon enough they’d shortened all the way up above his knees, showcasing a good portion of David’s strong manly legs as the black faded to light grey. Finally leaving the man with a suitable pair of shorts for his new job.

Bryant figured that must’ve been it until he noticed the discarded button down shirt wriggling a little. Sewing itself back together, retracting the sleeves completely and altering its colour like everything else until all that was left was a blue tank top.

There we go! Now you really look the part. I’d say you’re practically ready for your position now. All that’s left is make sure your loyalty to this job also translates to your boss Mr Bryant.

The Principal was surprised to hear that. He hadn’t asked Mr Wavell to add this part but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the sound of it! Meanwhile David grunted, cock twitching as more orders and memories pushed themselves into his mind. Orders to always do exactly as Principal Bryant asks no matter what. To serve him loyally as both an employee and a boyfriend. To be either as submissive or dominant as Bryant wanted him to be. In turn, memories then also began surfacing of David having dated the Principal for over a year now with the two even living together.

Perfect. Now nobody will bat an eye when they see the two of you together in public. And with that I think your training to become the perfect Gym teacher for this school is complete! Bigger, manlier, more confident and completely subservient to your boss and now partner. I’d say my work here is done wouldn’t you?

David once again simply nodded along with everything the voice told him, completely entranced.

Now, this video is going to end momentarily and when it does you’ll believe you’ve always been the way you are now. A hairy sports loving gym coach. And you’re going to love every second of it. Thank you for listening and I hope Mr Bryant back there is pleased with the progress we’ve made today.

With that the spiral faded and the video finished. David blinked a few times in confusion, glancing around the office and down at himself, trying to recall why exactly he was here again. “Sir… why did you call me in here again? And why am I shirtless?” He wondered, reaching for the discarded tank top.

“Leave it off.” Bryant responded quickly and to his delight David didn’t even question the order. He simply tossed the tank top back on the couch beside him. “Now uhhhh… I called you to um… tell you how good of a job you’ve been doing recently! As one of our few gym teachers you really put the most into your lessons. It’s very inspiring.” He praised the shirtless hunk before him.

David smirked, getting up from the couch and taking a few steps closer to the desk. “Oh come on, you don’t need to butter me up. If you called me in here for some fun then you just say so.” He leaned over the desk, quirking an eyebrow as he noticed his boss jerking his cock under it. “Mmmm looks like you already started without me.” He added before bouncing his pecs in the Principal’s face

Bryant’s face went bright red but David didn’t seem at all phased. If anything he seemed turned on judging by how he grabbed his crotch through his new gym shorts. God it was weird! David really did believe they were boyfriends now. And he should be completely subservient now according to that video. “Haha yeah… I just couldn’t help myself. You’re just such a hunk David. How about you uhhh… show me just how much of a hunk you are? Flex for me again and show me why exactly the two of us are together.” He suggested, testing the waters a little.

To the principal’s delight, David did exactly as he was told. He placed one hand on his hip before tossing the other arm up into a strong bicep flex, smirking cockily as he did. He extended his arm out a couple times before bringing it back in to really show the muscle bunching in a firm peak that was hard to look away from. After which he proceeded to do the same with his other arm. Flexing the bulging muscle for his boyfriend without a care in the world. And once he’d finished with his arms he moved down to his chest, grabbing at his furry pecs a little before bouncing them again as well. Showing just how thick and meaty they were. He even turned around and did a double bicep pose to really show off the muscle in his back as well. But the part that really made Principal Bryant drool was when David stuck his tongue out while pulling down the back of his shorts to reveal not only his furry ass but also the fact that his underwear had morphed into a jockstrap during the transformation! “This is all for you daddy. It might be my body but you own it.” David stated.

“Well in that case, why don’t you get over here so I can smell those sweaty pits of yours.” Bryant found himself growing more confident with his commands and once again David obeyed without question.

David walked around his boss’ desk and bent down slightly before raising up one of his arms to reveal one of his hairy pits. The principal wasted no time, shoving his nose deep into that armpit before inhaling generously. The scent was strong and musky due to the sweat David had produced during his transformation. Pungent even. But Bryant fucking loved it! He’d been dreaming of sniffing David’s pits for ages and now that he had the chance they smelt even manlier than ever before! He pulled out of one pit before ordering David to show him the other one. The scent of them being just so intoxicating. And to think he’d be able to smell these pits whenever he wanted from now on!

“Fuck those smell good… you’ll need to let me sniff them again when we get home later.” He pulled away from musky pits only to reach out and give David’s pecs a quick grope, loving how soft the hairy muscle could be when relaxed.

“Of course sir. My smelly pits are yours to sniff whenever you please. I’ll even jog home later to make myself even sweatier instead of driving back with you if you’d prefer that.” David suggested while Bryant ran his tongue along one of the hairy pits, tasting the delicious sweat.

“Now that’s an incredible idea. I want you to be as sweaty as possible.” Bryant confirmed with a devilish grin. “But right now I want you to get down on your knees and suck my cock.” He continued, now fully confident in the power he held over David while gesturing down at the hard, leaking cock that was sticking out of his suit pants.

David looked down at the cock and then back up at his boss. “Anything for you sir.” He smiled seductively as he lowered himself to his knees. Soon finding himself knelt between Bryant’s legs and facing a pulsing cock that was ready to be worshiped. David didn’t waste any time, licking up and down the shaft before eventually wrapping his bearded lips around the shaft. He glanced up at Bryant with his deep masculine eyes as he took over half of the Principal’s length down his throat right away. Hardly even gagging when Bryant grabbed the back of head and pushed him down even further. Simply sucking on the impressive thick cock as best he could, occasionally pulling off with an audible pop and jerking it for a while until he was ready to go back down on it yet again. It wasn’t long before the new gym teacher was deep throating his boss’ cock as if it were made out of candy, his beard periodically tapping against Bryant’s nuts.

“Fuuuuck you’re such a good cock sucker…” Principal Bryant grunted in satisfaction. “But I don’t wanna cum just yet.” He added before grabbing David’s head again pulling him off the cock, precum drooling from his mouth. “Now I want you to show me just how much of a slut you are by pulling down those shorts, bending over my desk, and presenting that hairy ass to me.” He commanded with nothing but pure desire in his eyes.

David didn’t waste a second standing up and pulling down his shorts. He briefly showed off the tent in his jockstrap before bending over the desk in front of his boss, displaying his thick furry ass in all its glory. “How’s this sir? Like what you see?” He teased in that deep voice, waving his ass back and forth seductively.

Bryant didn’t even respond. His mouth went dry as his cock pulsed unbelievably hard. He almost couldn’t believe this was happening. And yet when he reached a hand out, the manly ass it rested on was most certainly real. He ran both hands across the two globes in wonder before pulling them apart slightly to get a look at David’s hole. Bryant found his face being drawn to it, slowly inching closer until he couldn’t help himself any more, stuffing his face between the two hairy cheeks while internally thanking Mr Wavell for making this a reality.

The new gym teacher chuckled as his boyfriend and boss enjoyed his hole, eating it out eagerly. His enlarged cock bucking inside the jockstrap pouch under the desk as he felt Bryant’s tongue exploring inside his ass, tasting it with a seemingly insatiable hunger. David could tell the principal was really starting to get into now by the way he was smacking David’s furry cheeks.

Despite how much he was enjoying eating his new gym teacher boyfriend's ass, Bryant couldn’t ignore the calls of his dick any longer. After getting one last lick in, he stood up straight and looked down at the man bent over his desk with glee. This had been his dream ever since he first saw David and now he got to experience it with an upgraded version of the man. He rubbed his wet cock against the prepped hole, teasing the entrance with his tip.

Bryant looked around his office, checking that the door was locked and all the blinds were closed before grinning, knowing just how soundproof the room was. “Now. I’m gonna shove my cock up your ass and when I do you'll start moaning like cock hungry slut. Begging me to fuck like a submissive bottom who needs filling.” He instructed with a sinister smile.

“Yes sirrrOoooOOHHH FUUUUU-” David moaned out loudly in his deepened voice, hardly getting a chance to finish his response before getting speared by Bryant’s hungry dick. The principal didn’t go easy on him either, stuffing almost his entire length inside at once. “Fuck yeah sir!! Give me all that cock!” He shouted in response while Bryant started to pump in and out slowly. “Ohhh yeah I need it so badly! Keep going!” He begged.

Hearing a guy as manly as David was now begging to get his hairy hole fucked had always been one of David’s biggest fantasies and it definitely showed. He wanted to go slow but the more David moaned the more he couldn’t help picking up the pace. Slamming his cock in deeper, harder and faster with every thrust only to be met with even more slutty moans from the new gym teacher. “Yeah? You like that bitch? Mmmm fuck! Take my dick!” He responded while grabbing onto David’s hips firmly, allowing him to go balls deep with every thrust much to the other man’s delight.

“Mmmmmm yess sirrrr ooohhhhhhh yesss! Please… fill me with your load! I need it inside me!” David groaned in ecstasy as his prostate was slammed into over and over, causing his own cock to dribble excessively, dampening his jockstrap. “Fuuuck! I need your cum so badly!” He squeezed his hole around Bryant’s member as best he could, enticing his boss to spill his load inside.

Fortunately for David, thanks to how horny Bryant was, it seemed he’d be getting his wish sooner rather than later. The principal kept up a strong, fast pace for a good while but finally the pleasure was starting to spike. His balls started to churn as they prepared themselves. “Oh god…” He grunted, thrusts suddenly becoming less rhythmic. “Nrghh-fuck! I’m gonna… FUUUUUCCKKK!” Bryant roared as his cock exploded with one of the biggest loads he’d ever shot. Draining his balls completely inside the big manly ass before him.

“Yesssss! Give it all to me sir!” David moaned like the submissive slut that he was right now, simultaneously blowing his own load. Completely drenching his jockstrap as thick globs of cum forced their way through the fabric before dripping heavily onto the carpet below.

The two panted heavily for a moment after such an experience. Taking in everything that had just happened. David winced slightly as he felt Bryant slowly pulling his cock back until it flopped out, wet with cum and saliva. Bryant stood up straight again and looked down, admiring what he had before him. It really was a miracle.

“Alright, stand up properly for me David.” The Principal ordered and of course his slutty gym teacher boyfriend did exactly that. “Now turn around for me so I can get a good look at the mess you’ve made…” he smirked, licking his lips as he saw David’s cum covered pouch. He knelt down until he was eye level with the jockstrap before wrapping his mouth around the bulge. David’s cum tasted just as good as he’d hoped. Deliciously salty as he licked and sucked on the bulge. “Damn these balls of yours really know how to produce some amazing cum…” he complimented.

“Thank you sir…” David panted, still a little worn out. Yet he couldn’t stop a grunt from escaping his lips as Bryant squeezed his balls playfully.

With that Principal Bryant jumped back up onto his feet with a content smile on his face. As he did he grabbed the grey shorts that hung around David’s ankles and yanked them all the way back up over David’s crotch and ass. “There you go. Now I want you to go about the rest of your day with my load in your ass. Just imagine that my cum is fuel that keeps you going.” He smirked before giving David’s hairy bubble butt a hefty smack.

“Of course sir! I won’t spill a drop!” David claimed boldly before glancing over at the clock. “Well it looks like lunch is almost over. Guess I’d better start getting ready for my next class. I’ve got some students today that are just as eager about football as I am hahaha!” He chuckled.

“Well you’d better head off then Coach Everett. Wouldn’t want to keep the students waiting now would you?” Bryant smirked while stuffing his cock away in his suit pants again.

“Absolutely not!” David began making his way towards the door, grabbing his tank top and slipping it on over his head. “Well I’ll see you tonight babe after my sweaty jog home.”

“Can’t wait. And maybe tonight I’ll let you be the dominant one instead…”

David unlocked the door and pulled it open. “I like the sound of that.” And with that David took his leave, heading for the gym teacher offices as if he’d always worked down there. Not a single memory of ever being an English teacher left.

Now alone, the Principal found himself punching the air in excitement. This was better than anything he could’ve ever asked for! He’d have to thank Mr Wavell if he ever saw him again because he really went above and beyond. He couldn’t help but wonder what other sexual fantasies he could play out with David in the near future…

———

Little did Bryant know that Wavell had been present the whole time being the pervy warlock he was. Having watched everything that went down from the transformation to the sex. He had a fair reason for wanting to see if the experimental magic infused video he’d given to Bryant. It certainly worked a treat.

“Seems everything went smoothly this time. Complete override of specific aspects of the subject's reality. The intensity of transformative magic was perfectly balanced. The subject didn’t accidentally turn into a massive muscle giant hardly capable of moving. And he wasn’t even aware of his former life. Seems like I’ve found the correct formula for these transformation videos.” Wavell muttered to himself as he jotted down the results in a notepad.

[markuss555]

Big surprise (Black -> Asian *TF*)

Kevin woke up in a strange room

a voice said to choose a race.

"What the Hell?"

"I'm not playing no game, take me home!"

The screen popped up saying Asian or Australian

Kevin, out of curiosity chooses Asian. The room fills with a yellow smoke as Kevin is knocked out by the aroma.

Kevin wakes up as a fat Asian

"Change me back, or change my body weight!"

The voice let's out a chuckle as the room is filled with a black air.

Kevin is not knocked out but fell a weird pleasure in his body.

His CHEST balloons out to a medium range and Kevin let's out a moan. Next his abs became rock hard as he sit there and drooled.

He then feels voices in his head to flex his new muscles. He then has no control over his body since the pleasure gets to his head. He flexes his biceps as they grow bigger and bigger the harder he flexes

He then touches himself all over before getting to his pecs

Kevin always wanted big pecs.

The voice says "I see you like your pecs, let me increase them for you!"

The air in the room changes to a black mist

kevin feels pleasure in his chest and looks down at it as it balloons up

He let out the biggest moan as he squeezed his new pecs.

The air was still flowing in him and his whole body exploded in mass in one second

His mind was filled with different voices saying

"your a gay Asian now"

"your a slut"

"touch yourself"

"go to the gym"

He then moaned and went to the gym

He was known Hai Kang.

And he was the sexiest Asian out there

[markuss555]

Prison Fantasy

Fair warning: Rather strong language and a bit of violence ahead.

Jacques was deeply concentrated as he slowly led his brush over the canvas. Bright sunlight coming through the open window lit up the rustic loft, and the quiet noise stemming from the Paris suburb streets was just as easily concealed by the classic music from the Bluetooth speaker behind the easel as the colors covered the blank parts of the canvas.

His latest piece was coming along nicely, he thought, a study of light and shapes and contrasts, a still life featuring flowers. The decision for this particular bouquet had been a spur of the moment. Normally, Jacques preferred to paint living things, like a cat or his boyfriend, but when he had passed the flowers on his walk earlier, they touched something inside his soul, begging to be painted.

Just as he was adding the last details to the colorful petals of a rose, the door opened behind him, and the sound of a key being dropped onto a bowl signaled the arrival of his boyfriend.

"Bonjour, my love," Richard, his boyfriend of five years, said and gave him a tender kiss. Just like Jacques, he was a gentle soul and an artist, but unlike him, he had a stable job, working in marketing. Richard often called his job 'soul crushing', but after all, bills had to be paid, and Richard gladly took on that burden so Jacques had time and freedom to paint.

"That looks good," he smiled. "I think it is the second most beautiful thing in the room right now."

They laughed and kissed again, and Jacques put his brush aside. When his boyfriend came home, he always put his art on hold and spent the evening with Richard. Sometimes they would go out on a date; other times, they would cook and watch a movie. Today, however, Jacques noticed an almost mischievous smile on his boyfriend's face.

"You're planning something, aren't you?" he asked with a smile, and Richard grinned.

"Oh, I can't keep secrets from you, can I?"

The taller Richard smiled, which curled his carefully styled small mustache.

"But, well, since you're asking... I'm kind of... 'in the mood' today, and it just so happened I passed a costume shop after work. Perhaps you would be up for a little... roleplay?"

Jacques raised an eyebrow. Roleplaying wasn't something they did often, but it was definitely something they both enjoyed from time to time.

"Hm, that could be interesting. What did you buy?"

To his surprise, Richard blushed a little.

"It's a bit silly. But I was thinking we might try something new?"

With that, he produced two sets of clothes. One appeared to be a dark uniform of some sorts, and the other one...

"Is that a convict outfit? Like, in a prison?"

Richard's head was even redder now.

"Y-yes. I mean only if you like, but I thought perhaps some guard slash inmate scenario might be..."

"Oh, Richard, you're so cute. I'd love to indulge in that fantasy. Which one do you want to wear?"

His hand already hovered over the faux uniform, but Richard managed to surprise him one more time this evening. Usually, he was the shyer one of the two, and often (but not always) bottomed, but his eyes wandered to the guard outfit.

"I... I was hoping I could be the guard? And you could be the prisoner?"

Luckily, Jacques didn't seem to be opposed.

"That's certainly new... So, tell me about it. What kind of prisoner am I?"

With slow and deliberate movements, he began to disrobe and expose his slim and elegant body, before putting on the rough convict clothes.

"I was imagining you might be a real bad boy for once. You know the type — strong and muscular, dirty and tattooed, and not..."

"Not what?"

Jacques paused while pulling up the pants, already getting a bit excited by his boyfriend's description. Richard squirmed a bit before answering.

"Not really... smart. But very rebellious and cocky. You know the type I have in mind?"

"Fuck yes!"

Jacques didn't notice the unfamiliar word in his excitement. Normally, he never cursed.

"That's going to be awesome! Okay, and you're my guard? Probably just as much of a bad boy, but on the other side of the law. Strong and ruthless, using force more than necessary. Hm, what else? Oh, how about you're not white? A Latino perhaps?"

Jacques was surprised at how vivid his imagination was. Perhaps he had seen a movie with a similar plot not too long ago.

"Yes, I like that idea!" Richard replied and pulled the shirt over his head.

Objectively, neither of the artists could be farther from their imagined roles, but that didn't stop Jacques from growing more aroused by the second. However, he hesitated before putting the shirt on. Following the same impulse, he said,

"I'm not putting that on."

Richard was taken aback and was just about to ask why when he understood. Clearing his voice and trying to make it as deep as possible, he answered,

"Looks like someone has to be reminded who's in charge here. Put on that shirt, prisoner, and don't make me repeat myself."

He could feel his cock twitch in the uniform pants. The whole thing was turning him on more than he thought. Suddenly, he noticed something out of the ordinary.

"Wait. What's that?"

Without asking for permission, he grabbed his boyfriend's arm and moved it up, pointing at his left upper arm.

Jacques felt anger rising in him — a rather unfamiliar emotion — and yanked his arm back, freeing it from Richard's grip.

"What does it look like? It's a tattoo."

"What? When did you get a tattoo? And where?"

Richard's voice was confused, yet still as deep as before, without him even trying.

Jacques shrugged.

"I don't know. Some place, around last year. Can't remember; I was pretty drunk. What's it to you? Is having tattoos against the law now?!"

The last part was delivered with an air of defiance, and he crossed his arms, daring his 'guard' to continue the conversation.

Richard blinked. His boyfriend's attitude was certainly different from before, but he liked it. Only his subconscious noticed as more ink appeared on the other man's skin.

"No. But it helps us recognize scum like you. Now, do what I said. Put. On. That. Shirt."

His voice was dangerously low, and his cock was making a visible tent in the dark pants. He had not noticed the added weight of a holstered gun, a nightstick and a pair of handcuffs appearing on his belt.

Jacques laughed and sniffed hard, stopping himself just before spitting out.

"You think I'm afraid of you? Just admit it, you want to see all my tats. Including the one above my cock." Jacques made a point of pronouncing the word as vulgarly as possible and pulled down his pants just enough to reveal the top of a large cobra tattoo, with the snake's head resting on his pubic region, before letting the pants snap back. His bulge had become much larger than before the motion, and not only because of his raging erection.

"Well, too fucking bad you won't get to see it, piglet! Who even let a baby boy like you in here? Are you the fucking intern?"

This time he spat on the ground before his boyfriend, getting so much into character he didn't realize how his slim and delicate frame was changing. His shoulders became wider and more defined, his abs and pecs more pronounced, his hair darker and his nose flatter.

Richard didn't seem to notice either, as his body responded to the challenge in an unusual manner as well.

His hair was rapidly receding into his skull, leaving him with a short dark buzz cut instead of the stylish curls he had earlier. Likewise, his body grew bulkier, and his clothes suddenly felt tight, even though the uniform was actually growing with his expanding muscles that flexed as his annoyance turned to anger.

"Oh, you're going to regret that, puta. I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson you won't forget soon!"

With a swift motion, he pushed Jacques against the loft wall, which was changing just as much as its two inhabitants. The previously light wooden panels were turning to gray concrete, the floor becoming smooth and sterile. The paintings on the walls disappeared and were replaced by cameras and posters reminding the convicts to 'keep their hands off the guards', and the windows changed from a big, bright opening to small slits near the ceiling.

Richard brought his increasingly masculine face mere centimeters before Jacques' as dark stubble grew in on the guard's chin.

"In here, I am the law. And you are nothing but a filthy petty criminal, who deserves to be locked away and left to rot. Now, you better show me some respect, or you'll be regretting it for a long, long time!"

Jacques pushed himself up and puffed his chest, which expanded with lean muscle, rivaling the other man's.

"Fuck. You."

He spat again, this time directly onto the guard's face, his own eyes gleaming with rebellion. The fact that he was just role-playing was drifting further and further away with each contemptuous breath. The air was thick with testosterone and rage.

Richard wiped the spit from his face and growled menacingly before pushing Jacques against the wall once more. He had no memory that it had originally been a window, or that the floor used to be hardwood.

"Listen here, you little shit! I'm gonna fuck you up until you cry for your mama. Nobody messes with Officer Rico!"

His skin darkened quickly as if to keep up with his words, and a thick accent sneaked into his voice.

Biceps bulging, Jacques found grip in Rico's short hair and, lacking better options, shoved his face into his own armpit.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna fuck me? Bring it, pretty little clean boy! I haven't showered in weeks, hope you enjoy the smell of a real man."

His voice was deep and coarse now without him even trying. All around them, the last remnants of their old home vanished, including the bouquet of flowers and the painting of it.

Officer Rico struggled, his face pressed against the musky dampness of the convict's pit. His cock was painfully hard and throbbing now, and his bulge had grown so large that it was inevitably rubbing against the prisoner's one that was almost as big and just as hard.

Finally, after more and more strength rippled through his body and filled his tight black shirt to the seams, Rico managed to break the headlock and grabbed the convict's wrist, twisting them painfully and forcing the other man down onto the steel flatbed next to them.

"You're gonna regret this, dirty fucker," Rico growled, half angry, half horny, and, with a quick motion and a clicking noise, cuffed the prisoner's hands to the front of the bed. Jacques laughed, but Rico wasn't finished. Mercilessly, he grabbed the inmate's pants, pulled them down and tucked them under the flatbed, effectively immobilizing him with his erect cock completely exposed.

With no gentleness, Officer Rico grabbed the inmate's cock and began to stroke it roughly.

"Well? How do you like that, fucker? Being treated like the scum you are? What's your name, asshole?"

Jacques couldn't help but moan, his hips bucking into the guard's rough grip.

"Jack," said Jack, through gritted teeth. Fuck, being treated like that was just too hot, but he couldn't give his guard the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead, he tried to free his arms again, causing the metal frame of the flatbed to squeak in protest but giving him no more wiggle room.

Rico's hand tightened around Jack's thick cock, and his own member throbbed in his pants, begging for release.

"Jack, huh? Well, Jack, I think you're gonna learn a lesson today."

He leaned down, his breath hot on Jack's ear as he whispered in a thick accent,

"You're going to get fucked like a good little bitch. The little bitch you are. I'm the one who fucks here. Do you hear me?"

Jack moaned in protest, but his cock betrayed him, throbbing and leaking pre-cum as his guard continued to stroke his massive meat. Fuck, he was gonna lose it if Rico kept this up. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Fine! Fuck me!" he hissed. "Fuck me if you think you can handle a real man!"

Rico grinned, and his voice grew louder again.

"Good boy, Jackie. Eventually, I break them all. Even though I got to say, you almost earned my respect. Almost."

With that, he let go of the other man's cock, leaving it throbbing and leaking, and loosened his own belt, freeing his massive cock and slapping it on the prisoner's ass, which left a wet spot of precum.

Then, without warning, he lined up with Jack's unwashed asshole and pushed in, forcefully and brutally, until his balls slapped against the other man's ass.

"Take it, bitch. Take it all."

Jack cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain and squirmed around on the flatbed, but neither could nor wanted to escape the humiliating situation on the flatbed. Like a machine, the Latino officer rammed into him, stretching him out like he hadn't been before. Jack couldn't help himself from moaning and screaming out loudly for the whole prison wing to hear.

Rico just grunted, his speed and brutality even increasing as he edged nearer and nearer to release. He had to give it to Jack — few men could take his massive size like that. Again and again his hips slammed against the prisoner's ass, and with a last roar, the guard emptied his balls inside the other man's bowels, shooting hot, virile cum in thick jets.

At the same time, Jack couldn't hold it back anymore. Without even touching himself, his large tool spewed cum all over his muscular frame, spurt after spurt until he was fully covered with his own seed and leaking the guard's out of his ass as soon as Rico pulled out.

Wiping his cock clean on the prisoner's pants, Rico grinned. He had needed that.

"I'll be back when I'm horny again. But I guess you won't be going anywhere, right, Jack?"

With a dirty grin, he removed the handcuffs and left the spent prisoner panting in his own mess, but not without taking the shirt with him. If this prisoner didn't want to wear a shirt, who was he to object? Let him have fun showing off his cum-covered torso with no way to clean himself.

What a ride, but so much fun to write!

[markuss555]

Too late…

It was too late to stop it now, as soon as the cap settled on your head it went to work melting your brains and making you scream. Your intelligence, drive and ambition burned up fast and drained to your balls setting your whole body on fire as veins pumped and worked to feed your growing frame.

Sweat beaded your whole body and soaked your clothes as you struggled out of them, bones creaking and snapping under your increasing bulk.

Your shorts stretched to accommodate your chunkier thighs and ballooning ass, your larger feet splayed on the floor to hold up your heaving weight.

Your voice grunted and deepened as your neck thickened and your boyish looks devolved into something more brutish. Finally your cock bloated outwards as your new bull nuts pumped and churned your old faggy life priming it for you to shoot out and cement yourself as just another douchey jock bro…

[markuss555]

Veynai walking in on his boss Thada and Armin kissing RESET (2025) | Episode 8

(for @spoonfullofdream)

[markuss555]

One way trip to Caracas

The flight from Paris to Caracas was long, but every second felt like a victory for Julien. At 32 years old, this was his first solo trip abroad, the culmination of years of hard work and saving every spare euro. His coworkers had teased him, saying it was too dangerous to travel to Venezuela alone, but Julien had brushed off their concerns. For him, this was not just a holiday; it was a statement of independence. No more predictable vacations with his family. No more dreaming of adventure while flipping through travel magazines. This was his time.

The sweltering heat hit him the moment he stepped out of the airport. Caracas was unlike anything he had ever seen. The towering buildings cast long shadows over streets bustling with life. Food vendors called out to passersby, the scent of arepas and empanadas mingling with the tropical humidity. The colors overwhelmed him: bright murals on crumbling walls, vibrant clothing, and the endless blue sky above.

Julien, with his average build and confident demeanor, stood out among the locals. His fair skin and European features marked him as a tourist immediately, but he didn’t mind. He had always prided himself on being adaptable, confident, and able to handle himself in any situation. After all, he’d spent years in the gym maintaining a body he was proud of. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but he was fit, a point of pride for someone who considered himself just an ordinary guy.

He had planned his trip meticulously. Days of hiking in the Andes, visits to Angel Falls, and, today, exploring the city and getting lost in its streets and markets.

The marketplace was everything Julien had hoped for and more. It was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds: merchants shouting over each other, music blaring from hidden speakers, the clinking of coins exchanged for fresh produce, handmade crafts, and colorful trinkets. Julien wandered through the labyrinth of stalls, enchanted by the vibrant fabrics, carved wooden figurines, and the aroma of spices he couldn’t quite identify.

He stopped at a table displaying intricate jewelry. Bracelets made of woven leather, necklaces adorned with tiny beads, and rings of all shapes and sizes were laid out like treasures waiting to be discovered. The seller, an older woman with silver-streaked hair, smiled at him and began explaining each piece in rapid Spanish. Julien’s knowledge of the language was limited, but her enthusiasm was infectious.

As he examined a particularly striking silver bracelet, a group of teenagers loitered nearby, watching him. There were five of them, all around 18 to early 20s years old, dressed in a mix of modern streetwear and local flair. They whispered among themselves, smirking and occasionally glancing in his direction. Julien noticed them but didn’t think much of it. He assumed they were just curious about the foreigner in their midst.

“¿Cuánto cuesta?” Julien asked the vendor, pointing at the bracelet.

Before the woman could answer, one of the teenagers, probably the leader of the group,  stepped forward. He was tall and wiry, with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Señor, let me help you,” the boy said in heavily accented English, grinning. “You don’t want that. It’s too expensive for you.”

Julien raised an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. “Thanks, but I can handle myself.”

The boy’s grin widened. “Of course. Just saying. You should look around more. Better deals everywhere.” He gestured vaguely at the surrounding stalls.

The other teenagers laughed softly, their eyes gleaming with mischief. Julien turned back to the vendor, brushing off the interaction. He had no idea that, while he was distracted, another member of the group had slipped close behind him.

As Julien continued haggling over the bracelet, a smaller boy with a quick, practiced motion slid something into the pocket of Julien’s cargo shorts. The boy rejoined his friends, who stifled their laughter as they watched the oblivious tourist.

Julien eventually purchased the bracelet from the lady while small talking with her a bit and then moved on, unaware of the extra weight in his pocket. He spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the market, sampling local snacks and taking photos. The teenagers followed him at a distance, always staying just out of sight, their laughter echoing faintly as Julien admired a stand of colorful ceramic bowls.

By the time Julien returned to his modest hotel room that evening, the events of the day had left him exhilarated and exhausted. He dumped his shopping bag on the bed and emptied his pockets, pulling out his phone, wallet, and… a ring? Frowning, he examined it. The metal was cold and oddly heavy, the symbols on its surface almost seeming to shift under the dim light of the room.

“Weird,” he muttered, setting it aside. He assumed he must have accidentally picked it up at the market, maybe it had fallen into his bag or pocket while the young men were talking to him. Julien tried the ring on his finger and it fit perfectly, it was hugging his skin without compressing him and it was a perfect touch that he could keep as a memory of his travel. Being happy to find this ring by accident and seeing how well fitted it felt, Julien got ready to go to bed, forgetting completely to take the ring off as he fell asleep on his bed.

The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of Julien’s hotel room, casting a golden glow on the sparse furnishings. He groaned softly, his body heavy with the lingering fatigue of the previous day. Stretching, he rubbed his face, only to pause when his hand brushed against his jawline. The stubble he had carefully groomed just yesterday felt... thinner. Softer, almost.

He sat up, dismissing the thought as morning grogginess, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood, he felt an odd looseness in his pajama shorts. They slid slightly down his hips, which felt narrower than usual. Julien tugged them back up, frowning but attributing it to weight loss from the heat and all the walking he’d done.

In the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and glanced into the mirror. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at him. His skin, usually a pale European tone, had darkened slightly, as if the last days sun he took finally put a tan on his pale skin. His features looked subtly different, his nose a touch broader, his cheekbones sharper. It wasn’t drastic, but it was enough to make him pause and watch with attention how just a tan can make such a difference on his face and body.

“Must be the sun,” he muttered, running a hand through his short-cropped hair to style them after what he got himself ready for another hot day to explore Caracas and its streets.

But as the day wore on, Julien’s discomfort grew. Walking through the city streets, he noticed his stride felt different, as though his legs were subtly reshaping themselves. His calves felt leaner, his thighs slightly more muscular, but not in the way he was used to. There was a new tautness to his skin, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. His shirt clung awkwardly to his torso, which seemed slimmer than it had been in the morning.

By the afternoon, Julien’s reflection in shop windows was unmistakably altered. His once broad shoulders had softened slightly, tapering down to an athletic but less imposing frame. His arms, too, seemed leaner, the veins that usually stood out on his forearms now subdued beneath smoother, slightly darker skin.

The changes, at first painless, began to take on a strange intensity. As evening approached, Julien found himself stumbling as a sharp ache flared in his joints. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was persistent, like his body was being stretched and compressed at the same time. His face felt hot, as though feverish, and when he caught his reflection in a storefront window, he barely recognized himself. His jawline had softened, his lips fuller, and his eyes, a deep brown now instead of their usual golden hazel, stared back at him with an unfamiliar intensity.

Julien panicked seeing that he didn’t recognize himself anymore in his reflection. This was not the sun; this was something else. He needed help. Julien ran back at the hotel, paced the room, his heart pounding. He started to think and walk in his bed, trying to find an explication on the internet while looking for the emergency number; but now that he was alone with his thought and changing body, the feeling was growing stronger and stronger. Julien could feel his bones grinding each other as the transformation was not done yet. His skin tightening around his shrinking muscles, his vision blurring and coming back to normal, his body getting itchy. As he sat in the corner of the room, Julien felt a sharp painful sensation around his fingers, he tilted his head only to realize the ring he put on yesterday was still on, and worst, it was shining a faint golden hue. The ring. It had to be the ring. He grabbed it from his finger and tugged on it, trying to take it off. But it was not moving at all. Worst it felt like he was tearing off his own finger. It was stuck in place. As he was about to try once again going to the bathroom to put soap and water, he felt a jolt of energy course his body and coming from his finger. Julien screamed in pain as his voice felt rougher and higher at the same time. The wave of energy was running through his body and then it stopped and centralized around his feet. Julien turned his head and watched in horror as his feet started to compress and shrink right in front of his eyes. The symbols etched into the surface of the ring seemed to shimmer and shift, almost as if alive. Desperate, he tried to pull it off once again, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The metal felt warm against his skin, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Julien screamed in panic once again as he felt the ring starting to warm once again, like if it was ready to release a new wave. Julien was terrified and just like he thought, the sensation of invasion in his body came back once again, only this time it went in the direction of his head. The last thing Julien saw before his vision blurred and was taken by darkness was the night falling in his dark room as a golden light was emitted from his left hand.

As night fell and Julien was still fainted on his bed, the transformation accelerated. Julien’s once well-groomed chest and arms were now smooth, devoid of the hair he had always taken pride in. Yet, paradoxically, his armpits and thighs had grown thick with dark, curly hair, the contrast both alarming and surreal. His body continued to slim down, shedding years as it reshaped itself into that of a teenager. His abdomen, while still toned, looked less defined, the muscle structure softer and more natural.

The pain became unbearable by midnight. Julien curled up on the bed, clutching his stomach as spasms wracked his unconscious body. His bones felt like they were grinding against each other, his muscles tightening and releasing in unnatural patterns as tears streamed down his fainted face.

By dawn, the transformation was nearly complete. Julien’s once angular features were now softer, more youthful, with a golden-brown complexion that glowed in the bright morning light. Julien opened his eyes and turned his head around, taking the light in his warm brown eyes as his pupils contracted to accommodate to it. He turned his head to the left to look at the clock, forgetting what happened yesterday, but as he saw his tanned hand in front of him, everything came back to him. The ring, the changes, his body. Julien jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, his body, lean and athletic, moved with an ease and agility he hadn’t felt in years. There, in the mirror reflection, Julien saw his face and body. He looked like a local Venezuelan teenager, no older than 18. The realization hit him like a blow. Julien gasped in surprise and fear only to hear his deep voice being way higher and younger than what he was used to.

He couldn’t be stuck like this; he had a flight back in 2 days. How could he take the plane, his passport wasn’t even looking like himself anymore! As he kept on walking around the room, trying to find a solution, the light of the morning sun shine through his curtain and fell on his ringed finger, which illuminated his mirror reflection in golden hue. “The market!” he thought “I have to find the lady in the market, that’s her ring, I’m sure she’ll be able to help me out!” He grabbed a pair of flip flops, the only things that his feet were able to put on without loosing them, put on a pair of shorts and a shirt that was way too big for his body and then ran to the market with hope in his chocolate eyes. 

By the time Julien reached the bustling market, the sun was high in the sky, its heat beating down relentlessly and little to no sweat dripping down from his forehead. He maneuvered through the crowded streets, his heart thudding in his chest and the ring. Everything about the market felt more chaotic than it had the day before, the colors, the sounds, the voices speaking in rapid Spanish that he inexplicably understood with greater clarity now. He tugged at the sleeves of his loose shirt; his movements awkward as he tried to mask the unfamiliar changes in his body.

He reached the vendor’s stall from the day before and froze. The elderly woman wasn’t there. Her table was empty, the trinkets and jewelry nowhere in sight. His stomach churned as he turned in circles, scanning the crowd for her hunched figure. “She must be somewhere, she has to! I don’t know wha…”

“Señor turista!” interrupted a young men’s voice.

It made Julien’s blood run cold. He turned slowly, not knowing who to to expect or even if it was for him.

There, standing in front of him with a smirk on his face, a familiar young man with other ones stood a few meters away from him, their cocky smiles and sharp eyes fixed on him. The leader, a tall, wiry boy with dark, calculating eyes, stepped forward, his head tilting with mock curiosity.

“You look like you need help. You lost or something?” the leader asked kindly, switching easily between Spanish and English, his grin widening. “Come with me, we’ll help you find her. It’s not the first time this bruja does something like that.”

Julien’s breath quickened, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “Can you? That would be awesome. I’m terrified, I don’t even recognize myself, and everything feels so vivid and different.” he said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound firm. “Do you know where she is? I have to turn back. I don’t want … this” he said pointing at his regressed body.

The leader’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “Sure, don’t worry. That’s why I tried to help you the other day when you bought this bracelet. But you didn’t listen. It’s ok, we can help you don’t worry. Just follow us, her shop is a few streets away.” Julien felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders and he laughed a bit out of anxiety. He’ll be able to go back home. As Julien followed the men and his group outside of the market, he didn’t realize the streets were getting less crowded. The houses getting closer from each other and the sun was having trouble piercing through the closed roofs surrounding them. “So, not to be uneducated or anything, but how long do you think we’ll have to walk? You said it was close and we’ve been walking for almost 25 minutes. I’m just wondering if… Hey! Stop that!” Julien was interrupted in his sentence. Two of the men he was following grabbed him by the arms. He tried to break free but they were way too strong for him to do anything in this twink body he was now inhabiting. In a quick move, Julien’s feet were not touching the ground anymore and as he kept on screaming for help, a door opened behind them, leading in a poorly decorated house with only a well-used black leather couch. They threw Julien on the couch and his head punched the wall behind him, making him dizzy for a minute. When his ideas were cleared, he jumped back on his feet only to realize the whole gang was surrounding him and he had nowhere to escape.

“Let me through,” he said, his voice louder now, his nerves beginning to fray.

“Why would we do that?” one of the boys sneered. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The leader stepped closer, his gaze locking on Julien’s terrified face. “You still don’t understand, don’t you? There is no escape for you, not anymore.”

Julien instinctively covered his hand, but the leader’s smirk deepened. “It’s too late to hide it now,” he said. “You’re already marked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julien said, though his voice betrayed his growing panic. He tried to push past them, but hands grabbed his arms, his shoulders, his shirt, forcing him backward against the couch.

“You don’t get it, do you?” the leader said, leaning in close. “The lady is not the problem. She was just someone selling her craft trying to get money. She won’t help you, or turn you back!” “But you said…” Julien answered with tears in his throat. “I say a lot of things Julien. Here, it’s either eat or be eaten. And I won’t get eaten by society, not today, not tomorrow. See we needed someone like you. And you are perfect I have to say, or rather were. Your innocent face, your pale skin, your basic body. Yea you really were perfect. And you were alone, Jackpot!” continued the men as al his friends were still blocking Julien from running away. “Now listen, from now on, you work for me. And if you try to say anything out of character, well, let’s say you won’t be saying anything else.” “I’m sorry. I have money, I can pay you. Just turn me back and I’ll give you whatever you want. Please.” Answered Julien with tears rolling down his tanned cheeks. “What did I just say? Nothing out of character. Looks like you broke the first rule, isn’t that right Mateo?” said the men with a cocky smile creeping on his lips.

Julien froze. “Mateo?” he echoed, confused.

The leader laughed darkly. “I told you, Mateo. I won’t accept any side steps from my men.”

“Please I’m sorry. I…,” Julien hissed, trying to wrench free, but the gang’s grabbed him back as he tried to get up from the couch only to be pushed back and forced to sit. Julien froze as he was forced there on the couch. The leader took a step in his direction and then looked at his friends next to him. He smiled and then Julien saw the two men laughing and smirking as they approached his paralyzed body. Soon, the men grabbed Julien’s clothes until he was star naked. His new athletic tanned and musky body sitting there for everybody to look at him. Julien felt humiliated and hated every second of it, but he couldn’t escape from their grip, he was trapped. “I’ll pay you, just let me go. I won’t talk to anyone. Please!” said one more time Julien, trying to argue with the leader standing in front of him.

The leader didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the ring and pulled. Julien gasped as a sharp, burning sensation shot through his finger, as though the ring had fused to his skin. For a moment, it resisted, but then it slipped free, leaving behind a faint red mark on his tanned finger. Julien screamed as felt a part of himself getting ripped with the ring. His head started to spin as everything was starting to merge together before being broken and reformed again. Sweat started to poor down from his skin, his armpits sweating abundantly. Tears of sweat were rolling down his forehead and blurred his vision as he felt like his head was about to explode. He then felt an alien sensation invading his cock. It was like it was burning and itching t the same time. Julien opened his brown eyes only to realize in his blurred vision that his cock was now changing to something totally different. It started to shrink and compress on itself. Veins popping on the lengths as sensitivity started to grow higher and higher. Then burning appeared at the base, Julien’s mouth opened, trying to ask for mercy, as he felt a new forest of curly dark pubes starting to grow. Then his new smaller but thicker dick started to beat with the rhythm of his younger heart, his body getting overdosed by hormones as he couldn’t control himself, his hips wanted to move, to thrust, but the men were still holding him down. Without being able to control himself, a thick pearl of precum was ejected from his new tanner cock head, the first of many. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped. Julien opened his eyes again and everything was calmed, the men still in front of him was smirking with the ring in his hand, shining in a heartbeat rhythm before shutting off in a faint glow that soon stopped too.

“¿Qué me están haciendo? ¿Qué está pasando?”

The gang burst into laughter, their mocking voices echoing off the alley walls. Julien’s panic spiked as he realized he couldn’t remember how to speak English. Worse, his own name felt foreign to him, slipping from his mind entirely.

“As I said, your name is Mateo now,” the leader said, his grin cruel. “And you’re mine.”

“No... no puede ser,” Julien, no, Mateo whispered, his younger voice trembling.

The leader crouched down in front of him, his expression softening into something almost sympathetic. “You going to bring me a lot of money” he said. “My clients will adore you, that’s for sure.”

Julien shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Esto no está bien,” he murmured, but the conviction in his voice was fading, drowned out by the growing fog in his mind.

The gang’s laughter grew louder as they released their grips on him. Julien’s resistance ebbed, his will crumbling under the weight of the changes overtaking him. As he tried to get up begging one last time for help, the leader snapped his fingers. Julien’s head spanned and he started to blink in confusion, his erected dick starting to spasm and eject more and more precum. In front of him, the leader called one of his loyal friend and gave him the bronze ring. As Julien looked at him, his vision blurred by pleasure and confusion, he saw the young men putting the ring on and in a couple of second, he saw his old reflection standing naked in front of him. His old body standing there at attention and waiting for the leader’s orders. “Que …. No es…” Julien managed to say as his cock was spasming more and more, pleasure invading his young naked sweaty and musky body. The leader just turned his head and smirked. “Cum par mi, puta!” Julien felt the orgasm rising as he couldn’t control himself anymore and suddenly cum fired out of his cock. It felt like he finally could breath again. Julien closed his eyes and when he opened them again, a smirk appeared on his younger face. “Bienvenido, Mateo” said the leader with a smile on his face as he threw a grey used jockstrap to Mateo. “Hola Boss!” answered Mateo as Julien was gone for good, drying on the cement floor.

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys!

Here is the story I wrote for @misctf. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, my DMs are open, so feel free to send me a message if you have any ideas you'd like me to write about.

Also, we're getting close to 1,000, so be ready, I’m planning a special event for you once we reach that milestone!

Thank you so much, guys! See you soon!

[markuss555]

The Disappearance of Private Rogers

Bit of a longer one! Wanted to capture all the hypnosis and race tf. Hope you enjoy!

Colonel Hawkins sat behind his desk, his weathered face set in a grim expression as he gestured for Garrett to take a seat. "Listen up soldier, we've got a situation that needs your attention."

"Yes sir, I'm all ears Colonel. What's the deal?" Garrett was always eager- ready to do what he needed for his country.

"There's been a...truce called with one of the major cartels. Part of the agreement is the release of some high-value prisoners, including someone close to their boss, a fella named Miguel." The Colonel tapped his fingers on his desk, “Miguel has gone missing from our custody. Officially, we don't know how."

Garrett's brow furrowed as he processed this information, his mind racing with possibilities. He shifted in his seat, the fabric of his crisp Army uniform felt comfortable against his skin. Like it belonged.

"Missing? That's not possible, sir. Our facilities are secure." Garrett couldn’t understand how such a high-value target could go missing.

“Precisely. Which is why I want you to lead an investigation into Miguel's disappearance. You'll be working with a senior investigator - Dr. Logan Thorne. He's...experienced in these matters."

Something in the Colonel's tone gave Garrett pause, but he pushed the feeling aside. If the brass needed him on this, he'd see it through, no matter what. His duty was clear.

"I understand, sir." Garrett continued, “But are you sure I’m the best for the job? I’m not experienced in this kind of operation.”

"Private, it's simple really. Your track record speaks for itself. You're one of our most dedicated soldiers, always eager to follow orders without question." Hawkins leaned back in his chair, “You see things through to the end. And I only trust another man from Indiana.”

Garrett smiled, “I appreciate it, sir. I won’t question it and I won’t let you down.”

He always viewed Hawkins with great respect. The man taking on a mentorship role for the young private. Both born in small-town Indiana, both avid baseball fans- the man was like a second father to him.

"I knew you'd say that, son. That's why you were handpicked for this job." He released Garrett's shoulder and stepped back. "Dr. Thorne wanted me to give you these." Hawkins pushed a pair of headphones towards Garrett. "These headphones contain crucial information about Miguel. They’ll be invaluable to your mission."

Garrett took the headphones, placing them on his head.

Hawkins continued. "Remember Garrett, discretion is key here. Not even your wife Sarah needs to know." Garrett nodded, a buzzing static filling his ears, "You're relieved of your other duties for the meantime and will be provided a private room. Questions, Private?"

"No questions, sir. I understand completely." Garrett's voice was steady despite the unease churning in his gut.

Hawkins nodded approvingly, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Good man."

_____

Garrett stretched out on his bed and settled into the privacy of his assigned quarters, the headphones continuing to buzz with static. And then...

..."subject name: Miguel Antonio Mortez..." 

..."born and raised in Juarez, Mexico. Grew up in the volatile El Chavo neighborhood..."

..."Miguel likes fast cars. He owns a black '68 Mustang that he worked on restoring..."

..."Miguel plays acoustic guitar when he wants to relax..."

..."A skilled fighter, Miguel honed his skills brawling on the streets of Juarez..."

“Guess this is useful.” Garrett mumbled, wincing at a dull ache developing behind his eyes, “Fuck...” He yawned and felt his eyes starting to close, “So... tired...”

________

There’s a ball. A soccer ball? He stares at it and then up. Tall buildings around him. A dirt field. Makeshift goalposts. A firm kick. GOAL!

A woman’s voice called out sharply in Spanish, “¡La cena está lista!”

Garrett turns- panting, he sprints inside, catching a fleeting glance in a cracked hallway mirror. He pauses... the face of a young Mexican boy stares back at him. Dark hair, brown skin, eyes that hold a fierce determination.

_______

Garrett jolted awake, his heart pounding as he sits up. He blinks away the last vestiges of sleep, and caught sight of his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall opposite his bed.

The man staring back at him was unmistakably Garrett. His short blonde hair, the strong jawline accentuated by his clean-shaven face, pale skin. Relief washed over him as he mentally affirmed his own identity.

"That's right," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "Garrett. Born and raised in the Midwest. Played baseball, not soccer. None of that was real."

Despite the logical reassurance, a faint unease lingered. Garrett took a deep breath, steeling himself as he placed the headphones back over his ears. The unfamiliar voice filled his head once more:

..."You were born on July 12th, 1990 in Juarez, Mexico..."

..."Miguel learned to play the guitar at the age of ten from his abuelo..."

..."You spent countless hours practicing guitar riffs, strumming away your frustrations..."

..."Miguel dreamed of one day singing lead for a big time band, his voice captivating"

A sharp knock at the door jolted Garrett from his trance-like state. Before he could respond, it swung open to reveal a tall, distinguished-looking man in his 50s with salt-and-pepper hair.

"Private Garrett?" The man's voice was smooth and authoritative. "I'm Dr. Logan Thorne, the senior investigator assisting you with the Miguel Mortez case."

Garrett stood at attention, wincing as another wave of pain lanced through his skull. "Sir, yes sir. Good to meet you, Doctor."

Thorne's keen eyes lingered on the headphones. "I trust you've been reviewing the files I provided. I'm sure you find them... educational." Dr. Thorne smiles, "Tell me about yourself, Private. I like to know about the people I work with."

"I... I grew up in..." Garrett paused, "The Midwest. I think? Yeah..." His voice lacked its usual conviction, laced with uncertainty instead.

"Is that all?"

"Uh well... I-I grew up...Juarez? No, that's not right..." He grips his head, "Small town. Flyover country. Had a... a ball field, I think?" He looks up at Dr. Thorne, "I played a lot of... sports. I think baseball, but..."

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to get some rest, Private. You seem... rather disoriented at the moment."

Garrett bristled slightly at the interruption, an irrational surge of anger flaring in his chest.

"Yes sir, probably a good idea," Garrett replied.

"And private. Please continue to wear the headphones. We'll touch base later today."

Garrett closed the door to his quarters and leaned against it heavily, his mind reeling. He took a deep, shuddering breath and began to recite the facts of his life like a desperate prayer.

"I’m Garrett... From... Indiana. Born and raised in a small town. Played baseball, not soccer. Married to Sarah. Served in the U.S. Army. I am American."

He paced the room, his boots striking the floor in a staccato rhythm. "Garrett. Midwestern boy. Baseball, not soc... football...? Not from Juarez. Not a criminal." He stares at the headphones, "Loyal soldier." He places the headphones on his head, the voice reverberating in his ears.

..."You served Papi with unwavering devotion, attending to his every carnal desire..."

..."You found pleasure in submitting to his whims, craving his praise and approval..."

..."You spent long nights kneeling before him, worshipping his body with lips and tongue, relishing the musky taste of his skin and the weight of his thick shaft pulsing in your mouth...”

...“He taught you submission... broke you and exposed who you really are...”

As the relentless voice continued, Garrett felt his eyelids growing heavy. Vivid images conjured, in his mind.

"Not me... Not this... I'm not..."

The words faded into a distant hum as Garrett surrendered to sleep, his head lolling forward.

_____

He’s standing before a nude figure, muscles rippling as his large hand lazily strokes an impressive length of hard cock.

Papi.

"Eres mío, mi amor," Papi purrs seductively in a husky Spanish accent. Dark eyes gleam with lust and possessiveness.

He turns his head away from Papi, his gaze travels downward, seeing himself reflected in the large vanity mirror...

A strikingly handsome young Latin man graces his eyes. Brown skin glowing under the dim lights, eyes the color of rich chocolate framed by thick lashes, wild obsidian hair tousled artfully. His torso is lean yet defined, with a dusting of coarse black hair trailing down from his sculpted pecs to disappear enticingly below the waistband of his jeans.

______

Garrett bolts upright in bed, his heart pounding as he leapt to his feet. He stumbled towards the mirror, grasping the edge of the sink for support as he stared at his reflection with wide, terrified eyes.

"What the fuck..." he breathed, running a trembling hand through his hair. "It was just a dream. Just a goddamn dream."

Garrett stared intently at his reflection, taking in every detail. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin - it was undoubtedly him. Although somewhat disheveled and unshaven. But as he gazed at his own face, a sudden flicker of doubt crossed his mind.

"Why does this feel... wrong somehow?" he muttered to himself, leaning closer to the mirror. "My skin... shouldn't it be darker? Brown maybe?" He gulps, "And my hair... wasn't it supposed to be black? Thicker?" He ran his fingers through the short, sun-kissed locks, confirming their familiar texture and length. Garrett's breath quickened as a confusing jumble of emotions flooded through him, "No, no, stop it!" he growled at his reflection, backing away from the mirror.

Without warning, the door burst open and two burly Military Police officers stormed into the room. They grabbed Garrett roughly by the arms, yanking him to his feet.

"Hey! What the hell is going on?" Garrett struggled against their grip, his heart racing with confusion and growing fear. "I'm Private Garrett, not some damn criminal!"

The MPs ignored his protests, dragging him out into the hallway. Garrett's mind reeled as he tried to make sense of the situation. Why were they treating him like this? What had he done wrong?

They shoved him into an office room where Dr. Thorne waited, his expression unreadable. The MPs forced Garrett into a chair before taking up positions on either side of the door.

"Dr. Thorne, what's the meaning of this?" Garrett demanded.

"At ease, Private Garrett." Dr. Thorne greeted him coolly, taking a seat across the table. Colonel Hawkins stood beside him, his face impassive, "This is...unorthodox, I agree. But I'm afraid we have some concerns that require us to take certain precautions."

Garrett gripped the sides of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white. He opened his mouth to protest but hesitated, doubts clouding his thoughts.

"But I'm a soldier, aren't I? An American serviceman." His voice lacked its usual conviction. He squinted, trying to recall the specifics of his military career. Flashes of boot camp, basic training, deployed overseas...it all felt hazy, disconnected somehow, "Shouldn't I be treated with more respect? Right? I'm still... I'm a soldier... right?"

Hawkins and Thorne shared a knowing glance, a silent communication passing between them. Hawkins cleared his throat, fixing Garrett with a penetrating stare.

"The prisoner exchange has been expedited, Private. It will occur tomorrow at 0600." He produced a small pill bottle from his pocket, setting it on the table with a soft click. "These will help sharpen your concentration and recall. Take them as directed."

“No... this isn’t...” Garrett gripped his head, “Please, something isn’t right... Colonel?”

“Don’t disappoint me, son.”

His voice was cold, somewhat strained. Garrett frowned, a sense of failure welling up inside him. He didn’t want to disappoint- he was a good... soldier? Lover? Garrett shook his head.

"You must continue listening to the headphones, absorbing every detail. The information is... vital to the success of the operation."

Garrett eyed the pills warily, his stomach churning with unease. Something about their demeanor, the urgency in their voices, set his nerves on edge. He nodded slowly.

The MPs escorted Garrett back to his room, their grips firm on his arms. As soon as they crossed the threshold, they spun him around and shoved him inside none too gently. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding clang.

Garrett reached for the handle, twisting it frantically. It wouldn't budge. Locked. Panic started to rise in his throat as the realization sank in - he was trapped. Like a prisoner... Like Miguel... He shook his head.

“Just need to complete the mission.” He whispered, “Just finish the mission...” Despite every fiber of his body telling him no, he places the headphones on his head.

..."You existed only to serve Papi, to bring him pleasure in every way imaginable. Every inch of your body was his to claim, to mark with his touch and ownership..."

..."You ached for his domination. The delicious stretch of his thick cock splitting you open, claiming you most deeply, was heaven..."

..."Being his obedient little bottom, gagging on his cock, hole stretched and leaking his cum - that was your highest purpose...”

Garrett's breathing grew heavier as he listened to the sordid details, his body responding despite his mind's resistance. With shaking hands, he swallowed several of the pills. Warmth radiates from within him and he feels compelled to strip out of his clothes.

“Fuck...” He grunted, staring at his hardening cock.  

He grips it firmly, trying desperately to focus on thoughts of Sarah, on the love and familiarity she represented. But the vivid images of Papi, of submission and raw passion, kept intruding.

"Papi... mi amor..." The words slipped out in a breathy moan before Garrett could stop them. The headphones whispered filthy promises in his ear, urging him deeper into fantasy.

He barely noticed the door burst open. Colonel Hawkins strode in followed by Dr. Thorne and two stone-faced MPs. They carried a strange object between them - a folded, nude rubber bodysuit.

Garrett gaped at the lifelike construct, his pulse racing. The suit was crafted to resemble a stunningly handsome young Latino man, with olive-toned skin and a light smattering of dark chest hair. Intricate tattoos coiled along sinewy arms and a broad, muscular back. Jet-black hair, thick and glossy, adorned the perfectly formed head.

“That...”

An intense wave of recognition crashed over Garrett as he drank in the features of the figure. It was unmistakably the man from his dream - Miguel. Garrett's breath caught in his throat.

"Que demonios es esto?" Garrett's voice cracked, desperation evident. "Why does it look like... like him? Like me...?" He trailed off, realizing the implications, "My name is... was... Garrett. Midwestern boy. Baseball. Army. Right?"

"The pills help release the necessary bodily fluids to allow for proper bonding." Dr. Thorne says to Hawkins and the MPs, "Please help Garrett into the suit."

A second later, the MPs roughly grabbed Garrett's legs, forcing them into the waiting limbs of the rubber suit. As the material enveloped his skin, Garrett gasped at the sensation - it felt almost alive, conforming to his contours. Bonding tightly to his skin... sinking into his pores...

"No please! Don't! Arghhhh." Garrett cried out, trying to pull away. But the MPs held him fast, their grips iron-tight as they slowly worked the suit up his torso.

"You see, Miguel was selected for Operation Rising Phoenix." Dr. Thorne said, "His memories, intimate details were saved. And his body was converted into this suit. He could’ve been used by an operative to go undercover."

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, the truce was made." Hawkins sighed, "But we couldn't return him in well... that state." He looked down at Garrett with pity, "So to ensure the deal can be completed, we needed Miguel back."

Garrett thrashed and bucked as the MPs forcibly pulled the rubber suit up his body, covering his abdomen and starting on his chest.

"Déjenme ir! Por favor, quiero ver a Sarah! Quiero vivir mi vida! No hagan esto!" Garrett’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as his cut cock was encased in Miguel’s uncut member, sending waves of new pleasure radiating up his spine, “Oh fuckkkkkkk..... Papí... I need you... please..." Garrett whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to block out the unwanted thoughts and sensations flooding his mind.

He opened them again to find the MPs standing over him expectantly. Looking down, he wasn’t greeted by his pale skin or light hair. His muscles leaner... more toned... skin darker... the body of Miguel. One of the MPs seized Garrett's chin, forcing his head still as he stretched the mask over Garrett's face. Garrett shuddered violently as the elastic material sealed over his skin.

"There, there. It fits perfectly." Hawkins nodded in satisfaction as he examined the encased man closely. The rubber flesh clung to his curves, indistinguishable from real skin save for a subtle sheen.

“Are you sure...”

“Colonel, the Private’s eagerness to please blends nicely with Miguel’s psyche. They were a perfect match to allow for seamless integration.” Dr. Thorne lifts up the headphones, gently placing them on Garrett’s ears, "Just relax you’ve done so well."

"Sarah... please, I'm sorry, No sé qué me pasa..." Garrett's voice broke.

He doesn’t register the men leaving. Only able to run his hands over the rubbery surface of the suit encasing his body. His fingers dug into the pliant material as he tried to ground himself, to cling to his fading sense of self.

"Mi nombre es Garrett... soy americano... army..." He mumbled deliriously, his eyelids fluttering. But the litany of his own name sounded hollow, drowning beneath the tidal wave of new memories crashing over him.

Miguel, Papi, Juarez... the fragments swirled in his mind, threatening to overwhelm his last threads of resistance. A smile forms on his face.

As the lines between his lives blurred, Garrett clung to one final, desperate thought before surrendering to unconsciousness.

“I... I'm still here... Inside. I’m still... me...right?”

______

The first rays of dawn filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the sleeping form sprawled across the bed. As the light increased, Miguel stirred. He stretched languidly, the sheets sliding off to reveal his bare chest and toned abs.

“Mierda...”

Miguel sat up slowly, running his hands over his arms and torso, marveling at the feel of his own smooth, warm skin. Nothing but skin... his skin...

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, padding naked to the full-length mirror. Miguel turned this way and that, admiring the play of muscle under tanned skin, the intricate lines of his tattoos. A slow, sensual smile curved his lips as he appreciated his own beauty.

“Hoy es el dia.”

Colonel Hawkins entered the room flanked by MPs, “Good morning.”

He stopped short when Miguel turned toward him with a blank expression, clearly not comprehending the English greeting.

“I forgot you don’t speak English anymore.” Hawkins lamented.

Miguel squared his shoulders instinctively, his posture radiating street-honed defiance. "¿Qué mierda queréis ahora, putos?" He gestured angrily at the soldiers. "Me tenéis aquí como animal enjaulado mientras mis hermanos están fuera luchando por lo nuestro!"

"Still got that fire, eh Miguel? Must mean the conversion took properly."

_____

The heavily guarded exchange point buzzed with tense activity as Miguel was led out, his wrists shackled. His dark eyes darted around furtively, drinking in every detail. There, standing tall amidst the armed escort, was a striking figure - Papi. His chiseled features split into a radiant grin as his gaze locked with Miguel's.

"Mi amor!" Papi called out, reaching for him. "Ven acá, mi chico malo."

Miguel surged forward as far as his restraints would allow, straining towards his lover. The second the shackles fell away, he was in Papi's arms, crushing his body against the solid warmth he knew so well. The display of submission, of pure unbridled love, was an unexpected sight. But they didn’t care who saw.

"Papí..." Miguel breathed, nuzzling into the crook of Papi's neck.

Hours later, Miguel lay tangled in sweat-slicked sheets, Papi's powerful body curled protectively around him. The events of the day replayed in his mind - the confusion, the fear, the overwhelming rush of memories and sensations. But now, nestled in his lover's embrace, everything felt right. He smiled and looked up at his lover.

Miguel tilted his head to place a tender kiss on Papi's stubbled jaw. "Te amo, Papí. Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo tenerte."

His voice was low and thick with emotion, the words flowing in their native Spanish as naturally as breathing. In this moment, lost in Papi's scent, his touch, the familiar cadence of their lovemaking... Miguel knew he was exactly where he belonged.