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ownedchavblake · 6 months ago

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Convenient Timing

Rain was expecting a pretty quiet night in with his boyfriend Eric. They were planning on making dinner together, they had gotten some drinks from the grocery store, and were ready to just chill out and watch some movies together. As Eric pulled out all of the groceries from the fridge, he realized that the two of them forgot to get an onion for the spaghetti sauce. After being told by Eric that they forgot an ingredient, Rain insisted on going to the local bodega to pick up a cheap onion for the recipe. Eric tried to convince Rain that it was fine to continue on without the onion but Rain insisted that they needed it if they wanted to get the recipe right.

As Rain walked down the street to the bodega a block and a half away he was immediately getting hot from the muggy heat that was cooking the city. Making it to the bodega, he had picked out a nice round onion and had gotten in line to check out. The line was just one person so it didn’t take much time at all to be rung up. “How is your night?” Rain asked, trying to make some polite small talk, “Fine” answered the Middle Eastern cashier “What’s the onion for” he inquired. “Oh me and my boyfriend are making dinner and we forgot to pick up an onion” proclaimed Rain, “Tsk” the older man replied “Your generation is all backwards. Back in my day that was unheard of.” Offended, Rain began to defend his relationship with Eric, but before he could say anything he caught a whiff of an acrid scent. Sniffing the air around him he heard the cashier pipe up and say “Yeaaa smell that, that's what a real man smells like”, he lifted his armpit to reveal a dark wiry forest. Rain recoiled as even from across the counter it smelled absolutely awful. “Awww come on dont you wanna know what men are supposed to be like?” the Middle Eastern cashier said tauntingly. “No!” blurted out Rain, “Not when you smell like ass bro!”, “That was weird” thought Rain, “Why did I just say ‘bro’?”. Seeing Rain get occupied by his pesky thoughts, the cashier stuck his hand underneath his armpit and rubbed his fingers around in his pit as he continued to air it out. Taking his musk infused fingers he wiped it on Rain’s upper lip while he was obviously lost in thought. “EW! WHAT THE FUUuuuuuuuu…” Rain trailed off quickly. Knowing it was working the cashier walked out from behind the counter and towards the front door, Rain just simply stood there as the smell of the man’s potent stink wafted up his nose and invaded his brain. Locking the door and turning the open sign around to say closed he then walked back to the counter and whispered in Rain’s ear “If you wanna smell more of a real man then come to the back”. Thinking to himself “No no no what is he going to do to me back there” Rain began to say no but as the older cashier watched him try and resist he lifted his arm up and then into the pit Rain’s head went. He was only held there for maybe 5 seconds but the damage was done. Rain couldn’t think of a reason not to follow him to the back anymore, “Uhhhhhhhhh okaaaaaay” Rain slurred.

Walking to the back of the bodega, Rain was taken into the small office space. It was just big enough to fit the two of them. Forcing the twink to go in first, the cashier locked the door and stood in front of it. “The name’s Yusuf” The man informed Rain, “What’s yours?”, as the gears in his head slowed Rain was barely able to A. remember his name through all the funk clouding his mind and B. find the brain power to say it. Eventually he was able to tell Yusuf his name. “No no no thats no good! You need a good Middle Eastern name! Yusuf proclaimed, he thought for a moment “I GOT IT!” he spoke loudly, “Rahim will be the perfect name for you”. Rain was surprisingly able to quickly muster up a loud “NO!” but then couldn’t follow up with any reasoning. “What do you mean no?” Do you dare talk back to your father?!” Yusuf yelled. “What is this guy talking about?” Rain was thinking to himself as he pieced together his thoughts. This guy wasn’t his dad and his name was Rain not Rahim. Yusuf continued “I know what a brat like you needs!” Yusuf again lifted up his arm and revealed his pit that reeked of his masculine scent. Grabbing Rain’s head once more he shoved it into the epicenter of his man-stink. The overwhelming scent immediately took over Rain’s head again, and his thoughts about how wrong the guy standing in front of him was turned to thoughts about how he shouldn’t talk back to his dad the way he just did. Pulling him out of his stinkpit, Yusuf said “Are you going to act right now son?”, “Of course Dad!” Rahim said enthusiastically. As he looked at his Dad he caught a glimpse of a mirror hanging on the wall near the door, seeing his reflection he was hastily snapped back to reality. “WOAH WOAH WOAH!” Rain barked out, “What just happened to me?! Where am I!”. Rolling his eyes Yusuf didn’t say a word, he knew he had to bring out the big guns. He reached behind him, down past his belt, and into his pants. Maneuvering past the waistband of his boxers Yusuf stuck his hand between his ass cheeks, after hours of working up front and stocking in the bodega throughout the sweltering summer heat, Yusuf had worked up a nasty swamp ass. His hairy ass caked with sweat stunk to high heaven, it could knock a person out, and it did exactly that. He scratched around and made sure that his fingers were coated in his fetid ass funk. Lifting his hand he used his other hand to grab the back of Rain’s head and holding it in place, he stuck his fingers into Rain’s face and watched as the gay little twink couldn’t handle the stink. Rain’s eyes fluttered shut and his entire body began to slump over. Catching the twink, Yusuf set him down onto the old office chair and watched.

The first major change was where the stink was first introduced, his cute little button nose began to grow wider and flatten out a tad. Then came the next change, his eye color darkened, his brows grew thick and wild, and his face was covered in a scratch beard. His hair began to recede and no longer became a cute surfer cut, now it was a short messy cut with a fade. His face began to make a crunching noise and his entire face grew longer and lost its soft boyish features, instead being replaced with a strong masculine jawline. Next came his small skinny arms, suddenly expanding with muscle and wiry hair. His shoulders also expanded to make his arms and bust portionate. As his shoulder blades grew and his arms expanded another transformation was happening, his once shaven armpits now filled in with thick bushes of hair, matted down with sweat, that reeked as if he had just rubbed an onion into them.

His chest grew bigger, and his stomach suddenly was hit with a sharp pain that jolted the passed out boy, Rain began to open his eyes from the pain just to be quickly met with the tips of Yusuf’s still sweat drenched fingers. Now once again out like a brick the transformation continued, resuming back in his stomach the pain subsided but left its mark as a ridgid 6 pack now lay beneath his shirt. His legs were next, first his thighs grew into massive units capable of crushing the toughest melons, his crotch underwent a similar development, his once clean, waxed crotch poofed up with curly hair and much like his armpits, the bush was trapping in the smell of his ripe balls and dried cum that hasn’t seen soap in at least a week and a half. His lower legs also beefed up, now with nice defined muscle and more wiry hair invading his nice smooth skin. The last thing to transform was his feet. Yusuf watched in excitement as the man in his office chair neared completion. As the jungle of hair crossed the precipice of his ankle, Rain’s feet began to be added to the list of unwashed body parts. They grew and grew, stretching out of their owner’s small sneakers. BOOM! The shoes burst and the odor of his buttery dogs began to drift off of the massive feet now sitting at the base of the neanderthal-like man.

Looking at the perfect specimen of unhindered masculinity Yusuf was proud of his creation, but one more thing had to be done. Right on cue from the center of Rain’s chest, a bronze spot began to grow. It began to expand and spread across his entire body, and as it passed over each and every part of his body, his hair darkened from a light brown to a deep jet black.

Picking up a can of Febreeze that he had sitting aroud in the office, Yusuf sprayed some onto a towel and held it under his son’s nose, Rahim’s eyes immediately shot open “EUUHHH! DAD! That stuff smells horrendous!”. Smirking, Yusuf threw out the towel and watched joyously as his son lifted up his arm and stuck his big nose into his own armpit and took a deep whiff. “Phewww, that smells much better” Rahim added.

After leaving the office Rahim began to obediently help his father around the bodega like he always had done. A little while later, after his father had gone upstairs for the night, right before Rahim was going to close up the bodega a small man came in. He was very clean looking, well put together young man, “Im sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you had seen someone?” The man said, “He said he was coming down here over an hour ago and I haven’t seen him since!”. “Uhhhhh…no-one has been in for a while? When did you say your friend was here?” Rahim asked. “Oh no he isn’t my friend, he’s my boyfriend his name is Rain” the man said, rolling his eyes, Rahim thought for a second. Rahim smirked and told the man “Now that you mention it I think that I saw him come in a little while ago. I think he is in the back…near the office.”. The man thanked Rahim and began to make his way to the back. Rahim left his post at the counter, turned the sign on the front door to close, and sniffed his armpit. It reeked even worse than it did an hour ago. Rahim began to follow the man to the back. It was such convenient timing, his dad was going to be happy that they found another person who would obediently help them run the bodega.

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ownedchavblake · 9 months ago

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The "Interview"

(All characters are 18+)

It was a cold Friday night in London, and four friends—Elliot, Jake, Micah, and Julian—stood in line outside one of the most famous music venues in the city. It was a milestone of sorts: they’d saved up for months, gotten their tickets with just enough time before they turned 18, and now they were about to witness their favorite artist, Central Cee, live in concert.

They were all from the U.S., fresh out of high school, and their friendship had grown strong over the years. It wasn’t just their shared love of music that kept them close, but also their shared experiences navigating life as gay teens in America. Each one had their own story, their own struggles and victories, but they found comfort in each other—through late-night talks, inside jokes, and nights spent dancing to the latest rap tracks.

Elliot, the group's de facto leader, was a tall, lanky guy with curly dark brown hair, a hint of stubble on his chin, and a sarcastic sense of humor that had everyone in stitches. Jake, the creative one, had a boyish charm about him with a mop of messy hair and a slightly mischievous grin. Micah was the quiet, introspective one, with a soft smile that always made him seem like he was in on a secret. Julian, the most confident and adventurous, had an athletic build, a razor-sharp jawline, and always seemed to be the one pushing the others to take risks.

Tonight, though, something felt different. Maybe it was the excitement of being in London, or the energy of the crowd around them, but all four felt a growing anticipation buzzing through their veins. As they entered the venue, a man in a black hoodie approached them. He had the swagger of someone who knew exactly who they were.

“You lot," he said, "you’re coming with me.”

Before they could ask questions, the man led them backstage, where they were ushered into a dimly lit room with plush furniture. There, standing with his back turned, was none other than Central Cee himself. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Elliot felt a strange energy in the room, something that made his pulse race.

“Right,” Central Cee said, turning around with a grin that was both welcoming and knowing. “You lot came here to see me. But before you go back out there, how about a quick chat?”

The boys exchanged puzzled glances. They had no idea what was going on, but curiosity got the better of them. Each one was called up one by one for what seemed like a simple interview, but no one expected the transformation that would follow.

Elliot was the first to be pulled forward. As soon as he stepped up to Central Cee, a strange warmth washed over him. Central’s eyes glinted with something that made Elliot feel exposed, like he could read everything about him in an instant.

“Tell me something about yourself, fam,” Central Cee said casually, his voice smooth but commanding. “What’s your vibe?”

Elliot was taken aback. He wasn’t used to being asked such personal questions, especially not in front of his friends, but something about the moment made him open up.

“I guess… I’m the group’s leader, y’know? Always planning, always keeping us together,” Elliot said, trying to sound confident.

Central Cee smirked. “Sounds like you’ve got control, yeah? You wanna take control of your life in a new way?”

Before Elliot could respond, a rush of heat spread through his body, and suddenly his skin felt tight, as if something was shifting beneath it. His hair—once wild and curly—grew smoother, darker, and slicked back into a tousled fringe that framed his face perfectly. His broad frame shrank slightly, his arms growing more defined, and his posture shifted into something… cooler. He felt a tug at his accent—his American drawl fading into a crisp London twang. His clothes adjusted too, becoming baggier, more streetwear-oriented. A hoodie and a pair of well-worn tracksuit bottoms replaced his previous outfit.

The transformation was shocking, but what was even more surprising was how right it felt. He no longer cared about his past life as an American teenager; everything about him now screamed British roadman, and he loved it.

“Oi, you proper now, bruv,” Central Cee said with a nod of approval.

Elliot didn’t even recognize the name he'd had before—Elliot felt so far away. He was Rhys now.

Jake was up next. He had been watching Elliot closely, but before he could ask him what had happened, Central Cee locked eyes with him.

“Your turn, fam. What makes you tick?”

Jake wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, but somehow, with Central Cee’s sharp gaze on him, all of his walls crumbled.

“I… I guess I just like to push boundaries. Take risks,” Jake said, almost unsure of his own words. “I’m always looking for something new.”

Central Cee raised an eyebrow. “New, huh? How about we make you new, yeah?”

Jake didn’t even have time to process the words before another wave of heat swept through his body. His hair grew out, settling into a perfect, messy fringe. His slim, artistic frame bulged with muscle, and his clothes morphed into the streetwear of a London roadman. A gold chain appeared around his neck, and his voice shifted from his American accent to a street-smart British one.

He felt a sense of ease settle into his chest. His friends were still standing there, but it was as if a part of him had clicked into place. He was no longer that shy, creative guy from America. He was something else now—someone who walked the streets with confidence, ready to take on whatever came his way.

Central Cee nodded approvingly. “That’s it. You look proper now, bruv. Name’s Connor now, yeah?”

Jake felt a grin tug at his lips. He was Connor now. No going back.

Micah was nervous, but he didn’t show it. He had always been the quietest, the most introspective, and he wasn’t sure what to make of all of this. When Central Cee called his name, Micah stepped forward slowly.

“Alright, what about you, bruv?” Central Cee asked, his voice softer but still commanding. “What’s your story?”

“I’m… I’m always thinking,” Micah said, his voice unsure. “I overanalyze everything. I never really feel like I belong.”

Central Cee grinned knowingly. “Well, maybe you need to belong to something, yeah?”

Micah blinked, and then, just like the others, the heat surged through his body. His hair fell into a perfect, tousled fringe, his body became leaner and more athletic, and his eyes darkened with a new intensity. His accent shifted smoothly from American to a sharp London tone. His clothes became the uniform of someone who belonged in the streets: a puffer jacket, ripped black jeans, and trainers that had seen some miles.

As the transformation completed, Micah felt an unfamiliar confidence rise in him. He no longer felt out of place—he was home. He looked down at his clothes, his new identity settling around him like a second skin.

“You fit in, bruv. You were always meant to be one of us,” Central Cee said, grinning.

He was no longer Micah. He was Liam now, and it felt right.

Finally, it was Julian’s turn. He walked forward, a little slower than the rest, already knowing what was about to happen.

“You look ready,” Central Cee said with a raised eyebrow. “What’s your vibe?”

Julian shrugged, exuding that confidence that had always been his trademark. “I’m the one who always takes things head-on. I don’t overthink. I just do it.”

Central Cee’s grin widened. “Good. You’ll fit right in.”

As the words left Central Cee’s mouth, the final transformation hit Julian. His hair fell into the same tousled fringe, and his athletic build became even more solid. His voice shifted to a crisp, confident British accent. His old American swagger was gone, replaced by the loose, easy movements of someone who lived and breathed the streets of London. The clothes shifted too: a grey tracksuit replaced his previous outfit, and he felt the weight of it like armor.

Julian looked at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person staring back. The name Julian felt like an echo from a past life. Now, he was Brayden.

Central Cee slapped him on the back. “That’s the energy we need, fam.”

By the time they all stood together, they were unrecognizable—not just in appearance, but in their very essence. Their American pasts felt distant and irrelevant. They were no longer Elliot, Jake, Micah, and Julian. They were a new crew now, a gang of roadmen. They were Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden. And they had found their place in the world, alongside Central Cee and his crew.

As the night went on, the boys realized that the transformation was complete—not just on the outside, but deep down inside. They had found a new identity, a new family, and a new life.

And they would never go back.

After the transformation, Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden became something entirely different—no longer just American teens trying to find their place in the world, they had now fully embraced their new roadman personas. Their lives, their outlook, and even their identities had shifted, and London had become their new home.

Their American pasts were like faded memories, barely a whisper beneath the streets they now walked. It was all about swagger, respect, and the code of the roads.

But the change wasn’t just about looking the part—it was about living the life. And soon enough, their new relationships started to follow suit.

Rhys was the first to find someone who matched his energy. With his newfound cocky, confident persona, it didn’t take long for him to catch the attention of Jada, a fiery girl with a sharp tongue and a gaze that could pierce through anyone. She wasn’t fazed by Rhys’ swagger or his roadman façade. In fact, she called him out on it immediately.

“Oi, what’s all this ‘I’m the boss’ talk, bruv?” Jada said, smirking as she leaned against the brick wall outside the club. Her dark curls framed her face, and the gold hoops in her ears caught the dim streetlights. “You ain't fooling me. You’re just another lad trying to play the game.”

Rhys couldn’t help but laugh, impressed by her directness. “Nah, I’m solid, Jada. You don’t know me like that.”

Jada raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Alright then. Prove it, fam. Take a walk with me.”

And so, they did. They spent the next few weeks growing closer, with Jada often pulling Rhys out of his comfort zone—making him think about things outside the tough-guy persona he had built. But that was what Rhys needed. He’d never had someone challenge him like that before.

They became inseparable. Jada was just as street-smart as Rhys, and together, they ruled the London streets. They’d walk hand-in-hand through the parks, both in their tracksuits, looking like they owned the place.

“You’re solid, Rhys,” she’d say, the praise always followed by a cheeky grin. “Just don’t get too cocky.”

Rhys grinned back. “Ain’t no such thing as too cocky when you’re with me, babe.”

Connor, the fiery and unpredictable member of the crew, found his match in Sienna, a girl with an even sharper attitude and a style that could’ve been pulled straight from a London streetwear magazine. She had platinum blonde hair, bold eyeliner, and a strut that made heads turn. But beneath that tough exterior, Sienna was sweet, loyal, and down for whatever her crew needed.

When they first met, Connor was quick to try to impress her. He’d never been the type to settle down, but there was something magnetic about Sienna. Maybe it was her ability to look him in the eye and call his bluff or the way she could hang with the boys without breaking a sweat.

“You think you’re all that, don’t you?” Sienna said one night, her eyes narrowing playfully as she crossed her arms. She stood in the doorway of a local warehouse, the music from inside barely audible over the sound of the street.

Connor shrugged, his grin never fading. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got the look, the vibe. The streets respect me.”

Sienna took a step closer, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Respect’s earned, fam. You ain’t earned it just by walking around like you own the place.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, impressed by her boldness. “You think you can teach me how it’s done?”

“I’m the only one who knows how it’s done around here,” she shot back.

They spent their days cruising around the streets together, from the markets in Camden to the nightclubs of Shoreditch. For Connor, Sienna was more than just a pretty face—she was a roadman in her own right, teaching him the ropes when he needed it.

Eventually, Connor realized he wasn’t just playing the game—he was in it for real. And Sienna was the partner he never knew he needed.

“You’re mad, Sienna,” he said one night as they chilled on the rooftop of a warehouse, gazing out at the city. “Proper roadman energy.”

“Always, fam,” she replied, looking at him with a grin. “You just gotta keep up.”

Liam was always the quiet one in the group. The introspective type. He’d never really fit in back in the U.S. as the thoughtful guy who was constantly overanalyzing everything. But now? Liam had fully embraced his new persona, and it felt natural. He’d found his own rhythm, and Tasha, a girl with soft curls and an easy smile, seemed to ground him in ways he never expected.

They met at a local pub one night when Liam was deep in conversation with Central Cee. Tasha had overheard Liam talking about the roads, about loyalty, and about the importance of family. It wasn’t long before she joined them.

“Oi, I heard what you said about loyalty,” Tasha said as she slid into the booth next to Liam. “I like that. Loyalty’s everything in this life.”

Liam was taken aback. Most people didn’t get it—not like Tasha did. But she understood. She had the same respect for the streets that he did, the same need to feel connected to something bigger than just himself.

They started spending more time together, and Liam found himself opening up to her in ways he hadn’t with anyone else. She pulled him out of his head, reminding him that sometimes the best way to live was to be present.

“I get you, Liam,” Tasha said one night as they walked through the back streets of East London, hand-in-hand. “You’re all about keeping things real. But you’ve gotta let go sometimes, bruv.”

Liam nodded, smiling softly. “I’m learning. You’re a good one, Tasha.”

Tasha smirked, giving him a playful nudge. “Ain’t no ‘good one’ about me. But you’re alright, Liam.”

Brayden was the most adventurous of the crew, always pushing the boundaries and diving headfirst into any situation. But it was Mia, a girl with bright green eyes and a sharp edge, who caught his attention. She was a force of nature, confident and quick-witted, with an easy laugh and a demeanor that made you believe she could handle anything thrown her way.

Brayden had always been the type to enjoy the thrill of the chase, but Mia? She was the chase. She didn’t take his cocky attitude or his charm seriously.

“What makes you think you can just walk up to me like that?” Mia asked, raising an eyebrow as Brayden tried to work his usual magic on her.

“I’ve got that roadman swag,” Brayden said, leaning in close with a confident grin. “And you? You’ve got that energy I can’t ignore.”

Mia smirked. “Alright, I’ll bite. But don’t think you can impress me that easily, bruv.”

It didn’t take long before Brayden was hooked. Mia challenged him in a way no one else did—pushing him to take risks, to not always play it safe. Together, they were unstoppable.

“Oi, Brayden, you’re all about showing off, but can you handle me?” Mia teased one night as they walked through a local alley, her voice light but full of challenge.

Brayden shrugged, a grin on his face. “You won’t even know what hit you.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “We’ll see, bruv.”

The Crew, Together

As time went on, Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden—along with Jada, Sienna, Tasha, and Mia—became a family. A crew that ran the streets of East London, with their messy fringes and cocky grins, and they moved as one.

The bond between the boys had deepened, and with their girlfriends now a part of their world, their crew was unstoppable. Together, they hit the streets, ran the clubs, and lived the life they’d always dreamed of. They’d found their place, not just as roadmen, but as a unit.

There was no going back. They were part of something bigger now—something that couldn’t be broken. Their names were no longer American. They were Rhys, Connor, Liam, Brayden, and their girls were with them, each one just as fierce and loyal as their men.

Together, they owned London.

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