octuscle

[octuscle]

Ihn und seinen Kollege hat's echt kein Stück schwer gemacht, den kleinen Lappen in die Kloake zu ziehen. Die Bierflasche als Köder war total übertrieben.

Die dreckige Socke, die vorher in der Piss-Pfütze lag und jetzt als Gag in seiner Fresse hing, hat der feine Pinkel aus gutem Haus vielleicht als hey, guck mal, Belohnung gesehen. Doch danach ging’s ruckizucki von Lust zu Schmach.

Mit den veranzten Klamotten von einem der beiden Prolls musste er den Rest vom Tag in der Fußgängerzone abhängen. Wenn er das nicht durchzog, gingen paar fette Videos und Pics an seine Jungs und das wollte er echt nicht. Lektion gelernt, mein Freund, diese Lektion war klar. Und für die Prollz voll das fette Ding, die Uhr von diesem Pisser konnten sie für 2000 Euro weiterverkaufen. Seine freshen Schuhe haben sie auch nice gemopst.

Drei Tage später, als er an dem dicken Kerl vorbeigegangen ist, hat er wissend und mitleidig gelächelt und ihm 'ne Zwei-Euro-Münze geschenkt.

Die beiden Prolls wollten eigentlich nur ein Bier trinken, doch da bemerkten sie diese kleine Sau, die heimlich Fotos von ihnen machte. Da kannst du dir denken, was folgte ...

[octuscle]

Der Typ hält zwei Bier in der Hand. Grinst fies.

Stellt die Bier neben das Waschbecken ab. Und sagt, er hat jetzt schon Mega-Druck auf der Blase. Dreht sich rum und stemmt die Klotür. Kippst beide Bier fast auf Ex weg. Digga, den Rülpser hast du locker noch bis zum Stachus gehört. Und dann macht er die Jeans auf. "Sauf, Du Votze" grunzt er. Und Du säufst!

Wenn du wieder kommst, ist dein Shirt nass und sieht aus wie'n Miefen. Dein Kumpel is schon lange abgehauen. Aber ein Buddy von dem Schwachmaten hockt da. Sieht aus wie ein Klon. Mit zwei Bier.

"Votze, hab voll den krassen Drang auf Klo…" sagt er und grinst.

Ich hatte mich mit einem Freund im Biergarten getroffen. Doch ich konnte dem Gespräch kaum folgen. Am Nachbartisch saß ein Typ, der so geil aussah. Ich konnte einfach nicht anders und musste ihn anschauen. Nach drei Bier drückte die Blase und ich ging auf die Toilette. Plötzlich ging die Türe auf und der Typ kam herein. Ihr glaubt nicht was dann passierte.

[octuscle]

Der schüchterne Typ, den die ganze Truppe hat schuften lassen, hat sein ganzes Zorn dann an dir ausgelassen. Alter, du hast ja null Plan, was so’n Gastarbeiter-Kerl drauf hat. Abgefüllt bis zum Gehtnichtmehr. Zuerst von ihm, dann von seinen Kumpels. Du wusstest ja auch nicht, dass so'n Arschpropfen zum Default-Set in seinem Werkzeugkasten gehört. Jetzt musst du mit breiten Beinen, im stinkenden Trainingsanzug von dem Stillen, zum Kiosk und ihnen 'nen Kasten Bier holen. Die drei hängen inzwischen chillig in deinem Pool ab. Das Bier servierst du dann im vollgepissten und vollgewichsten Gastarbeiter-Tanga.

Das Foto, das der Stille von dir geschossen hat, landet direkt auf deinem Insta.

Bild aufgenommen von @ki-kink

Mein Dach musste gedeckt werden. Am Morgen kamen drei Handwerker, wie ich sie mir nicht vorstellte. Sie sprachen kaum Deutsch, aber ihr Styl machte mich geil. In ihren Chile Adidas Trainingsanzügen und ihren Nike Sneaker stahlten sie eine Dominanz aus, die es mir an getan hat. Einer der drei war eher zurückhaltend. Die anderen zwei ließen ihn arbeiten. Am Abend waren ihre Oberkörper voller Schweiß. Sie kamen zu mir in den Garten und was dann folgte könnt ihr euch in euren per*v. Träumen nicht vorstellen. Oder? Wie geht die Story weiter ...

[octuscle]

Hello Chronivac, I am a very shy person, I do not have a girlfriend or boyfriend. I am also thin and I work all day in a large, old factory dedicated to the manufacture of plastics and I have to carry a cart from here to there. I am really stressed and I have to do it. Because the economic situation is difficult, I would like to be a man liberated for one night, a sexually virile muscular male of Latin Arab or gypsy origin who heads decisively to a nightclub, where I have always been made fun of for not knowing how to dance, to be the center and soul of the night and the party, an acclaimed masculine and tasty king of the most enviable and desired dance in the corner illuminated by the moonlight, could you help me with this?

Man, I’d change everything for you. You're sitting in front of the TV. Suddenly, the screen turns black and white. But the colors in your apartment start to shift—orange, brown, pink. A psychedelic explosion of color.

On the TV, there's a report about a speech by some guy named Deng Xiaoping, Vice Premier of the People’s Republic of China, at a Communist Party leadership conference. A home computer (whatever that is) is hitting the market. And in Argentina, the 1978 FIFA World Cup is underway.

1978??? Damn, what’s happening?

Your stomach turns. You jump up and rush to the bathroom. And that’s when it really starts. Something even weirder.

Your beard starts growing—wildly, but with purpose. It becomes glorious and mighty. So does your body. Muscles swell. The bathroom tiles turn green. Your clothes dissolve into thin air.

And in the mirror stands a bearded, muscle-bound colossus, covered in hair. It’s you.

The phone rings. Your crew’s asking when you’ll be there—they’re waiting. Your outfit’s already laid out on the bed. Just need your jewelry. And then—you’re ready for your entrance.

You whistle for a cab. Off to the club.

The crowd waits, tense with anticipation. Up till now, you’ve just been chilling at the bar. But you’ve exchanged a few subtle—but unmistakable—looks with the DJ.

The first notes of Andy Gibb’s “Shadow Dancing” fill the room. You rise. Take your first step toward the dance floor.

The crowd parts like the Red Sea.

And then—you dance!

AI pic created by @ki-kink

[octuscle]

Georg Meier might have been a brilliant engineer, but as a person, he was an asshole. No one in the office liked the pedantic career climber who would trample anyone to get ahead. His colleague Karel could hardly believe his luck when he saw that Georg hadn’t locked his computer before heading to the meeting. And he was still logged in to LinkedIn. Jackpot!

Karel uploaded the Chronivac add-in to LinkedIn. Then he got to work tweaking Georg’s resume. His mechanical engineering degree from Munich, topped off with a DEng from Aachen, turned into a vocational training as an auto mechanic—completed top of his class, of course.

Meanwhile, Georg was at the flipchart, presenting Karel’s ideas on fuel injection optimization as if they were his own. Suddenly, his mind went blank. And why the hell was he wearing coveralls instead of a suit?

His elite high school diploma from Schloss Stein became a basic secondary school certificate from Feldmoching-Hasenbergl. Georg asked if he could sit down. The others in the working group stared at him in disbelief. Karel updated the date of the diploma to 2023. Georg had only recently finished his apprenticeship and was hoping to start his master technician training at Audi soon. He knew it would take a few years, but Georg was hard-working and ambitious—like many who grew up in underprivileged neighborhoods and were trying to make something of themselves. Still, he felt uncomfortable in the sleeveless shirt, with greasy hair. If only he had known he’d be interviewed today.

Karel also changed his place and year of birth: Mladá Boleslav, 2005. When he clicked “Save,” the Chronivac add-in automatically rewrote the rest of Jiří’s life. First a striker for the FK Mladá Boleslav youth team, then for SpVgg Feldmoching. After a move to Ingolstadt and a torn ACL, bodybuilding became his hobby instead. Native language: Czech. Fluent in German. Basic Russian and English.

Jiří breathed a sigh of relief when Karel entered the room. Karel had known his dad from the Škoda plant in Mladá Boleslav and had brought him to Audi. Karel was a mentor and advocate. And someone he could speak Czech with—though not right now, that wouldn’t look good.

He beamed from ear to ear when the meeting lead told him he could expect some good news. He looked just like his LinkedIn profile picture. If Jiří could get his master technician title by the time he turned 25, it would be a dream. Maybe he could even start an engineering degree through distance learning someday. That would make his parents proud. And Karel too, of course.

AI pic created by @ki-kink

[octuscle]

"Suche nach freshem Job bei beste Laden von Kalk? Dann gönn dich Döner und lass reden, ya habibi!"

Merkwürdiges Plakat, habe ich mir gedacht. Aber ja, ich brauchte einen neuen Job und hungrig war ich auch. Wie das so als Student ist, am Ende des Geldes ist meistens noch viel Monat übrig. Also bin ich rein in die Döner-Bude. Den Döner kannte ich von früher. Kalk war nicht meine Gegend, aber manchmal landest Du an einem Sonntagmorgen ja an den merkwürdigsten Orten. "Hi, ich bin Günter. Ist der Job noch zu haben?" fragte ich den jungen Mann hinter dem Tresen. Er war der Inbegriff von "Döner-Verkäufer in Kalk". So der Typ "Stylischer Migrant mit reichlich Muskeln".

„Ey Bruder, haste Bock oder was? Wallah, richtig geil, ne! Ich mach dir 'nen Döner klar, kein Film. Wenn du willst, zeig ich dir direkt, wie läuft bei uns. Achso, ich bin der Klaus, alles entspannt, Bruder.“

Klaus. Ist klar. Offensichtlich macht er sich über mich lustig. Klaus und Günther. Aber sein Döner ist großartig und ein guter Lehrer ist er auch. Ich soll direkt anfangen. Erstmal schneide ich nur Salat und kassiere. Aber jeder fängt mal klein an.

Der Job ist nice. Ich mache das jetzt dreimal die Woche. Ist kein Problem mit der Uni, lässt sich gut vereinbaren. Ja, mein Mitbewohner beschwert sich, dass ich nach Imbissfett stinke. Tue ich bestimmt auch. Aber wenn ich Döner mitbringe, hat er damit kein Problem. Habe angefangen, in meiner Freizeit zu pumpen. Klaus (der heißt wirklich so!) nimmt mich mit in sein Gym. Ich bin der Lauch da. Aber das ändert sich.

Ey Digga, ich seh richtig abgefuckt aus, kein Witz. Klaus hat mir zum Ersten so’n Gutschein für seinen Friseur gegeben – und der Typ hat mir die Haare pechschwarz gefärbt, Bruder. Und dann noch diese Kerben in die Augenbrauen reingemacht, komplett wild! Ey, das Schwarz geht klar, sieht sogar bisschen fresh aus, aber diese Augenbrauen... was zur Hölle?!?

Jetzt mach ich zweimal die Woche Schichtleitung, alleine, weißt du? Läuft eigentlich ganz stabil – den Drehspieß hab ich komplett im Griff, Bruder.

Bruder, ich schwör, ich bin so froh, dass meine Augenbrauen wieder am Start sind. Ich sah aus wie so’n Typ, der den ganzen Tag an der Haltestelle chillt, weißt du? Aber ich hab' Ziele, Wallah. Ich will irgendwann meinen eigenen Laden – ganz allein Chef vom Dönerspieß sein. Da kann ich nicht aussehen wie irgendein Lauch.

Was auch immer der Friseur da gemacht hat, die Haare sind halt jetzt schwarz – bleibt wohl so. Aber ich hab jetzt so'n stabilen Schnauzer, Digga, genau wie Klaus. Voll auf Chef gemacht.

Als ich aus meiner WG raus bin, kommt mein Ex-Mitbewohner und meint so: „Ey, du bist voll der Kanake geworden.“ Ich sag: Bruder, halt dein Maul, du bist einfach nur Alman durch und durch.

Jetzt wohn ich hier um die Ecke, bei der Familie von dem Typen, dem der Dönerladen gehört. Hab mein eigenes Zimmer – läuft.

Ey, Uni wär sowieso nix für mich, Bruder. Klaus hat mir 'ne Festanstellung gegeben, richtig fettes Gehalt, Wallah. Und als Bonus hab ich 'nen Gutschein für'n Tattoo bekommen. Guck dir das an, sieht echt aus wie von 'nem Profi, oder?

Alter, mein Leben läuft voll stabil. Geiler Job, schicke Wohnung, neue Jungs, die richtig korrekt sind. Und ich schwör, im Supermarkt sprechen die mich mittlerweile auf Türkisch an. Ich kann jetzt schon ein paar Brocken raushauen, weißt du?

Ey wallah, ich hab's gemacht, Abi! Günay Karaman – Geschäftsführer lan! Ich schwöre, ich hab jetzt meine eigene Filiale, Bruder. Meine eigene Baba-Bude, verstehst du? Klaus hat direkt am Anfang gesagt: „Günni, du hast krasses Talent, Bruder.“ Wallah, er hatte recht, dies das.

Jetzt guck – Keupstraße, mitten im Zentrum, Abi, voll das Herz vom Block. Hier läuft nix mit chillig – entweder Top oder Haram, du gehst direkt unter. Aber Bruder, ich schwöre auf meine Mutter, ich geh niemals unter. Ich werd der richtige Döner-Kral, lan!

Sogar ein echter Habibi von Lukas Podolski war bei mir essen. Hat gegessen, geguckt, und meinte: „Brudi, dein Döner ist aslan wie von meiner Oma aus Istanbul, wallah!“ – Beste!

Nur eine Sache macht mich haram sauer, Digga – dieser Klaus ruft mich die ganze Zeit „Günni“, wallah was ist das für’n Name, Bruder? Voll Alman-Film, ich fühl mich wie ein Gartenzwerg oder so!

[octuscle]

Dude, why the heck do I have this BroMaker 3000 app on my phone? What even is that? And what’s up with all these pics of some nerd? Total bummer, man. Whoa, the next thing on my calendar is “chess club”? Definitely gotta be a mistake. Did I accidentally swap phones with a geek? Man, I’m feeling kinda riled up again and really wanna get off before football practice.

Before hitting “transform now”, Desmond was this brainiac physics kid with straight A's, while new Brody was now more of a chill C average kind of bro. But he’s still pure alpha, no doubt!

Yo, check out more rad BroMaker 3000 results @21st-century-boys

[octuscle]

William liked going to the gym late. He was not a model athlete. But he wanted to get in shape. And to avoid embarrassing himself, he liked to train in the hour before the gym closed. He didn't usually get out of the office much earlier than 8 p.m. anyway, so the question of training earlier didn't usually arise anyway.

It was 9:45 pm. The training area would close in fifteen minutes, leaving him half an hour to shower and leave the building. Chris at the counter had already made sure that he could do the checkout; William had already seen the last member leave 20 minutes ago. It was a hot summer evening, so people certainly had better things to do than stand on the cross-trainer or lift weights.

William stood on the treadmill for another 10 minutes, then that should be enough for today. He disinfected the equipment he had used, threw the towels in the laundry basket and headed for the changing rooms. As expected, everything was empty and quiet. There weren't even any footprints in the shower to indicate a recent guest. William showered, washed his hair, shaved and blow-dried his blond locks. If he shaved in the evening, he didn't have to do it in the morning. He didn't have much of a beard, which saved precious time.

With the shower towel around his hips, he went back to his locker. And in front of it were his sneakers. It couldn't have been long ago that someone had wanked on them. The sperm was still white and solid. William's heart was beating wildly. There was hardly ever anything left lying around in his high-class gym. The members were all as tidy as he was. In the past, when he had trained on the sports campus of his university, there had always been socks or jockstraps lying around somewhere in the evening. William had developed a formal fetish for the things he wore. Those shoes, those socks, that puddle of cum: it was like hitting the jackpot!

William looked around. He was alone. He hesitated for a split second. And put on the socks and the shoes. It looked silly with his suit. The shoes were a loose size 13, far too big for him. But it felt so good. He put his suit shoes and black knee socks in his gym bag and walked as casually as he could towards the exit. “Hey William, wait!” Chris called after him. Bloody hell! "The gate to the underground parking garage is broken. I'm very sorry, but you'll have to leave your car here today." William breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God nothing about the shoes, Chris hadn't noticed them. There was thunder outside. “Okay, will you call me a cab, please?” "Not a chance, William, I've already tried for the last customer and for myself too. There's no cab available because of the thunderstorm and a pop concert outside the soccer stadium. Where do you have to go?" William had just moved to Cologne. Brüsseler Platz, a hip area, perfect for an up-and-coming lawyer like him. Chris told him it was no problem, just get off at the Heumarkt stop, get on line 1, three stops to Moltkestraße and he'd be home. Unfortunately, he wouldn't have an umbrella for him. “At least I have shoes on that can withstand the rain,” William thought with a grin.

Chris hadn't told him that there was a line 1 in the direction of his home and one in the other direction. William was not familiar with public transport. As the streetcar crossed the Rhine to thunder and lightning in the pouring rain, he realized that something was wrong. He was on the wrong streetcar. And damn it, his laptop bag was still in his Porsche and it was in the blocked underground parking garage. Damn it, hopefully Chris was still there. He dialed the reception number. Only the answering machine left. Did he have Chris's number? Of course, sometimes the two of them trained together. Or arranged to meet up to play soccer or something. The two of them were good buddies. “Yo, Liam, longing for me again?” “Joker,” William replied. “I have to go back to the parking garage, I've got my...” Wait. What had he forgotten... Something he needed tomorrow... Yeah, right, he'd bought protein powder. It was still in his Dodge RAM. “I left my supplement purchase in the car.” "Dude, I'm sorry. I'm halfway home already. It'll have to wait until tomorrow." Liam surveyed the supplies at home. There should still be enough for dinner and breakfast. "Okay, have a nice evening. See you around!" "You bet I will. Get home safely in this awful weather!" Liam rummaged in the pockets of his jogging bottoms. Two more stops and he was almost home in Kalk. Where was his cursed lighter? He fumbled in his Alpha bomber jacket. Why was it in the inside pocket, he never put it there. He unzipped the zipper. Shit, why was he wearing a dress shirt?

When he came out of the subway, the rain had stopped. It had become much colder. Liam closed his jacket again. The tank top he was wearing underneath was still damp from sweat. He didn't need a cold by any stretch of the imagination. He lit a cigarette. It was almost 11 pm. The evening was still young. Far too early to go to bed. He didn't have to be on shift until 2:30 pm tomorrow. Plenty of time to have another beer and maybe fill an ass with his drool. The light was still on at his buddy Murat's. He rang the doorbell and grinned into the intercom camera. "Dude, come on down. I'm thirsty and ratty." “Give me two minutes,” his buddy replied.

Pic of William's Jackpot found @chavbank

Liam and more hot Cologne men @muratsimsekk

[octuscle]

Let's meet at the Victoria-Luise-Platz stop, his Berlin business partner Laurenz had said. The business meeting wasn't due to start until tomorrow, today was the informal part, it was about getting to know each other. Joseph didn't know his way around Berlin at all. He had just arrived this morning. A miserably long flight first to Frankfurt and then to Berlin. The cab ride to the Radisson on Alexanderplatz had seemed like an eternity to him. Actually, he would have preferred to just stay in bed. At almost 50 years old, he couldn't just put a journey like that away. But Laurenz was probably right, if he wanted to get over his jet lag tomorrow, he shouldn't go to bed too early. Laurenz had told him that he should first get on the subway line 2 towards Ruhleben and then change at Nollendorfplatz to the U4 towards Innsbrucker Platz. That didn't sound too complicated. Even if Joseph didn't speak a word of German, he would find it. As Joseph had no idea what they would be doing, he decided on a business casual outfit: jacket, blue shirt, jeans, loafers. It should go with everything.

Everyone had told him how clean Germany should be. That had to be a mistake. The subway was filthy. He was glad he was wearing his biker boots. If they got dirty, it didn't matter. A few punks got on at Spittelmarkt. One of them seriously had a rat on his shoulder. “Mate, have you got a few cents?” one of the punks asked Joseph. He had probably picked Joseph because his undercut wasn't that far removed from a mohawk. With his heavy American accent, he replied that at best he could offer the boys a fag. They gratefully accepted. Gleisdreick. Two more stops to change trains. Joseph was starting to need a cigarette too. He took the pack of filterless Marlboros out of the breast pocket of his checked lumberjack shirt and had a look. Seven cigarettes left. He tucked one behind his ear. He didn't know if you were even allowed to smoke in subway stations in Germany. At Nollendorfplatz, he saw cigarette butts lying all over the floor. Obviously you were allowed. So he lit up a cigarette while he waited for the subway. Of course, after just two puffs, the next U4 came.

Jo had no idea what to expect. He had chatted with Laurenz about Planet Romeo. It was an incredible coincidence that the two of them were colleagues. Laurenz was just as much into leather as Jo. However, at 35, he was almost ten years older. But that didn't bother Jo. He liked older men. The pictures of Laurenz had been promising. Jo was unsure where they would meet at the subway station. He decided to just wait on the platform. He had left his cell phone at the hotel; if they ended up in a darkroom at some point, which he very much hoped they would, he wanted to have as little with him as possible. He couldn't lose what he didn't have with him.

Joe heard the typical sound of creaking leather and heavy boots. He turned his head to the right. Damn, it was hard to look cool when you ran into a hot guy like this. Joe was rather slim, Laurenz obviously no stranger to the gym. “Joe?” He nodded. “Laurenz?” Laurenz laughed a stunning laugh. "Actually, it's more pronounced Lourenz as in 'loud'. But yes, I am Laurenz, nice to meet you, colleague!". Laurenz had a veritable bulge in his pants. Joe had a dry throat for a start. But that would pass. Laurenz would certainly cream his throat at some point.

More lads like Joseph @knarzendes-schwarz

[octuscle]

Why not try something different and go to a country festival? Why do we always have to listen to classical music, you're so narrow-minded? Why don't we take a vacation somewhere other than Martha's Vineyard and try North Carolina? It started with these questions. Ashton was tired of spending the same summer vacation with his husband Camden every year. Camden eventually gave in. In fact, maybe a vacation somewhere else would be nice, too. And maybe you could go to his parents' summer house for a weekend at the end of the semester break.

While we're here, let's buy some cowboy boots. It won't kill you to wear jeans. Don't you think it's really sissy to shower every day? Camden's alarm bells should already have been ringing here. Ashton seemed to be totally absorbed in the redneck environment. Yes, the fact that he smelled of sweat was difficult. But he was permanently ratty and Camden had to admit that the rough rough sex wasn't wrong.

Dude, leave me some ov that there booze! ay'm nahwt in the mowod ta drink the energy drink straaheet. Ayn' damn, are these y'all's last fags? do ya at least have any chewing tobacco done left? Arlen and Clayton had a damn good time. The festival offered plenty of room to drink, dance and fuck. And when they had to go back to the farm next week, the foreman was going to give them a good kicking again. Until then, they had to enjoy their freedom to the full. And they did!

More smoking rednecks @smokerny 

[octuscle]

Dude, when he did his intern gig with the cops, he never thought he'd get to roll on patrol. Just 18 and totally wild, arms like toothpicks, and rocking those thick glasses. But hey, one of the officers had the BroMaker 3000 on his phone.

Dude still had that baby face, but he worked on the rest enough to earn some street cred over the next month. Until then, he just needed those glasses for shooting practice.

More street cred @bruhski67

[octuscle]

He had observed how his colleague had completely changed within a few weeks. From an unathletic, ageing armchair fart to a sex-addicted athletic jock. He had watched him. He had even signed up to the same gym. And then he'd found out the secret. And somehow he had even managed to get hold of Jan, the man who sold the syringes.

He had lost his job after two weeks. But he wouldn't have lasted another second in an office behind a computer screen. With the OnlyFans account and the job at the gym, he made more money than he needed to finance the syringes and have more fun in life than ever before!

More hot pics like this result of a very special roid cycle @growingfantasies

[octuscle]

The Uber driver was an overweight guy who couldn't stop telling bad jokes. It was unbearable. Mike called up the Chronivac add-in in the Uber app and selected “random adjustment”.

“Yo, bro! My ride, my vibe. If I wanna blaze, I blaze. And if I feel like someone should hook me up while I'm cruisin', they totally should. But honestly, besides you, I ain't seeing anyone that can get to my sweet spot, man..”

Mike sighed. He had hoped for a cute college bro. But if fate wanted him to suck an uncircumcised cheesy redneck boner, he had to accept his fate.

More hot smokers and other hot men can be found @smokerny 

[octuscle]

He had always wondered what kind of pills his daddy was taking. Whether it was because of these pills that his daddy was always horny and could fuck him for hours. Stevie knew he wasn't allowed to take the pills. But his curiosity was just too great. And two or three of the pills wouldn't hurt. At worst, he would have a hard-on for the next 24 hours.

The skimpy thong that couldn't keep his boner in check and the ridiculous cowboy hat were the last things that would remind anyone of the tender twink with the greedy ass a few minutes later. Steve could hardly wait until the guy he had always called Daddy came again. Today he would use his cock to split Daddy's ass.

Pic of what the pill did to Stevie found @maxx-magnum

[octuscle]

“For fuck's sake, the entire marketing concept for the trade fair stand was based on the themes of “diversity” and “sustainability”. How can the idiots in Stuttgart now overturn everything at the last second? How are we supposed to switch to “sex sells?”

Alexander fumed. He had long been an exotic figure in the company. A petite rainbow activist who didn't even have a driver's license. But at least he had made it to North America Marketing Co-Head. And now he was standing here at the motor show with half an hour to spare before the exhibition halls opened. Where was he going to get a busty blonde to stretch out on the hood of the luxury limousines on the stand?

Thank God one of his colleagues had the BroMaker 3000 on his cell phone…

They had managed to stow the rainbow flags in a locker at the last minute. But thanks to Xander, who flexed his muscles on the stand, the stand was still the attraction for the gay community at the fair. Even if Xander didn't give a shit about this diversity crap. Lifting iron, driving hot bolides and having fun with the bros. That was his life. And if he had to be used as a sex object at the fair, he didn't care. The main thing was that there were parties in the exhibition hall in the evening and a good salary. Perhaps with the odd tip for special services

More results of the BroMaker 3000 abuse to be found @themenscave

[octuscle]

January 03: It was clear that the gym was going to be packed. All good intentions. I made an appointment with Jan. I thought that if I had a personal trainer, it would be easier for me to keep my resolutions. Jan has an incredibly well-trained body, a stunning smile and a motivating manner. I could imagine that getting into shape with him would be fun.

January 08: Yesterday I trained on my own. So I was on the cross trainer for 30 minutes. That's more than I did in total last year. Overheard a couple of teenagers in the changing room talking about doing an extreme tren cycle. I asked Jan what that was. He told me to stay away from that stuff. If I really wanted support, he would know better stuff. But first I should try to achieve the success I wanted through training.

January 14: It's unbelievable, but I think the training is already having an effect. My pants are looser and my shirts are no longer so tight around my stomach. Nevertheless, I can't help but admire Jan's perfect body. I asked him what he would recommend to see faster progress. He told me that he would bring me an injection tomorrow. Something you inject into the fold of your stomach. Four units, lasts four weeks. If I liked it and tolerated it well, I could continue the treatment and increase the dose.

January 15. I am overwhelmed by the immediate effect of this injection. Jan explained to me that it realigns the hormone balance. This leads to a change in diet and training behavior, which I felt immediately. I didn't want to stop training at all. When Jan's session was over, I went to a boxing aerobics class and then went swimming for an hour. I literally had to be thrown out of the gym. After that, I had to find a supermarket where I could get some rice and chicken breast. I was incredibly hungry.

January 18: My colleagues all went to the Italian restaurant during their lunch break today. I had no desire for spaghetti bolognese or pizza with salami. I went for a half-hour run and then ate my prepared lunch in the social room. i now eat three times during the day in the office. i'm almost insatiably hungry.

January 21: I don't feel like the effect of the injection has worn off. Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to my next dose tomorrow. When I look in the mirror, I can see something like muscles! The fat is melting, the muscles are growing. The effect is incredible. But I've also completely changed my day. Swimming in the morning before work, running at lunchtime, lifting iron in the evening. With and without Jan, every day. Otherwise I'd be missing something.

January 24: Maybe I'm spending too much time with Jan. Today I called a customer “bro” in a meeting in the presence of my boss. The man was 50 years old, I assume. Okay, that was out of place. But I'm in the office for eight hours and I do eight hours of sport. The time in the gym is probably starting to wear off. And it's getting expensive. I've already ruined two shirts. And the suits look ridiculous on me. They just don't fit anymore. I'll have to go shopping tomorrow.

january 25. Jan said we could go shopping together, he needs new clothes too. And he also advised me not to spend too much money. In a week's time, nothing might fit me again. I haven't bought a suit at all. A pair of sweatshorts, a pair of jeans. T-shirts. Polo shirts for the office. That will have to be enough for the growth phase.

February 12: Damn, I haven't written in a while. I mean, writing sucks too. Takes up time I could be pumping up my biceps. I'm in trouble at the office. My boss tells me to buy a suit, jeans and a polo shirt are against the dress code. Okay, I've been mistaken for a courier or something three times. Maybe it's also because I look really fresh and younger. It's unbelievable, but the bald patch on my head has shrunk and the gray hair is dark brown again.

Feb 16: Dude, just hit my fifth jab. First one with the beast mode dose. Bro, it hits hard! Swimming and running? Snooze fest, man. Hitting the gym in the AM, lunchtime, and even PM. Okay, maybe a little solo session in the morning too. Bros, I’m telling ya, the horniness is real! Got wet dreams every other night, and I’m still busting a nut two or three times a day. I could probably shave three times a day too. And my hair's getting wild, gotta ask Jan where he gets that sick undercut.

Feb 20: Bro, my boss is sayin' I gotta show up tomorrow either fresh outta the shower and suited up or I’m lookin' at a new gig in the warehouse or gettin’ fired. I mean, the warehouse could be chill. Sure, less dough, but whatever, I’m down to find a cheaper pad closer to that new gym Jan hyped up. He said I need somewhere to lift those heavy weights, bro. I’d be leveling up on the way to massive gains. Man, I think he’s on to something!

Mar 28: Yo bros, sorry I’ve been MIA for a minute. Life’s been crazy. New job’s dope, I can pump iron at work now. No more showering, win-win. Jan hooked me up with a side gig at the new gym—keeping an eye on the floor and mopping at night. Getting some extra cash, gym’s free and I'm scoring sick discounts on gear. Living my best life, for real!

Another side job is modelling @truevikingblood-blog

[octuscle]

Byron was standing at the reception desk of the shabby hotel in Magaluf. It could only be a misunderstanding. It had to be a misunderstanding. Yes, he had booked an all-inclusive vacation. All inclusive. But it was supposed to be an adults-only luxury resort. Not a flophouse in the fourth row from the beach, full of rednecks who were already drunkenly belching their names at 10:00 am.

“Listen,” said the lady at reception with a pained smile. “I can upgrade you. Free of charge for the super all-inclusive package. I guarantee you'll enjoy your stay here to the full. Otherwise you'll get your money back.”

“Yo fam, it’s your dude Aiden here! Mallorca’s lit, for real! Check out my new bros, Jayden and Kayden. No clue what their real names are, but I'm way too buzzed to care. They’re too wasted to even say 'em right, haha!” The guy who might be called Kayden showed a mano cornuta and burped “Kayden” loudly. The three of them collapse with laughter. “Yo, bros! Let’s get hype, the sangria chug-off is going down soon!”. Best vacation ever thought the young man, who used to be called Byron. And would probably be called Byron again in two weeks' time.