socks-and-sneaks

[socks-and-sneaks]

[socks-and-sneaks]

Instagram:bleudechauffe_2022-03-17_12-33-31_UTC

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Good fag

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Good fag boy

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Good Job

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THE ATTIC CLEAR OUT: THE SUPERHERO SUIT

It had started with a craigslist ad. Nothing too weird, but still slightly suspicious. "Vintage Spider-Man costume, screen accurate. Never worn, free to a good home." with an attached photo of a sleek, red and blue suit folded neatly into a box. @nowhereactually wasn't even a fan of Spider-Man, but something about the suit called to him, and hey, worst case he could just sell it for a profit right? He messaged the seller, asking if it was still available, and instantly got a reply. "Yes. Come get it."

A few hours later, home with the suit, he pulled it out of the box to inspect it closer. It was heavier than he expected, and was thick, almost alive in his hands. The fabric clung to his fingers like it didn't want to let go. A small voice spoke in his head. "Wouldn't it be nice to just try it on, couldn't hurt after all…" and so he did. He locked his bedroom door and stripped down to his boxers. Stepping into the legs, the moment he touched the suits insides, a shiver ran down his spine. It was cold at first, but then quickly became warm and pleasant, as if reacting or adjusting to his body heat. He pulled the suit up over his thighs, feeling it hug his figure perfectly, molding to his form like a second skin. It was tight, yes, but no restrictive. If anything, he thought it felt nice, good even. Right.

He lifted the suit higher, sliding his arms into the sleeves, and as soon as the suit settled over his shoulder, he shivered and gasped. It was like being dipped into liquid confidence. He felt hot, powerful, cocky. His posture straightened, his chest puffed out, his fingers flexed. For the first time, he felt perfect, he felt like a god among men. He felt unstoppable. He rushed to the mirror, turning and admiring himself. The suit fit like it was made for him. The reds vibrant and inviting to look at, the blues deep and rich. The spider emblem on his chest seemed to pulse slightly, as if breathing, gently pulsating and drawing him in. He flexed again, watching the fabric stretch over his biceps. "Holy shit." he moaned, then he laughed. Because suddenly, the idea of taking it off seemed ridiculously funny to him.

He didn't take off the suit that night. He slept in it. And when he woke up, something was different. His body felt… better. His arm were firmer, his stomach tighter. He stretched, and his muscles moved with a newfound strength and grace. He looked in the mirror, and if the suit clung to him yesterday, it was his skin today. It was so tight against his skin, feeling like just a part of him, his real flesh. His face was sharper, his jawline more defined, his eyes brighter, more alert. He was unmistakebly the same, but better, so so much better. As for the suit? What suit? It was a part of him now, he wasn't wearing a suit. That was just his skin, he was a hero after all. Spider. Man. He moaned.

He wore the suit under his clothes that day, and his coworkers noticed something was off. Every time he moved, he was reminded of how powerful he felt, his confidence was overflowing, practically drenching him. "You okay? You seem… different?" one of them said. He smirked, flexed, and winked. "Do I?" And he knew he did.

He wasn't the same guy anymore.

He was better.

Stronger.

Faster.

More confident.

A HERO.

He caught girls looking at him. Guys, too, of course. And he LOVED it.

The next day, the changes were undeniable. He was leaner, more athletic again. His shoulders broader, his waist narrower. His reflexes were sharper - at breakfast, he caught a falling coffee mug without even thinking, not even spilling a drop. As for the suit? It was changing too. It clung tighter, moved with him as if alive, truly a second skin after all. He didn't even notice he was wearing it anymore, but when admiring himself in the mirror, he was blankly staring at the spider symbol, pulsing, a heartbeat. Dragging him under, controlling him. Using him like the puppet he was very very quickly becoming.

That night, he heard it for the first time. A whisper in his ear, a caress on his crotch. "You're perfect." No-one was there. "You were made for this." He should've been scared, but he wasn't. "Made for me" Because it was right.

The next day, as he swung open the door to embrace the day, cocky as always, he was greeted by a man. If he was able to think properly, he'd have recognised me, the one who gave him the suit. But the suit wasn't letting him think anymore. He couldn't feel anything without me letting him. "Kneel." I commanded. And he did. The suit wouldn't let him disobey, after all. He wasn't himself anymore. He was Spider-Man, and he was MINE. I placed a hand on his head, letting his old self fully fade as my touch forced him to finally orgasm, something the suit hadn't let him do since he put it on, having edged him into obedience the whole time. He came, and with it, he was replaced with something better. Something obedient. Something… perfect.

A reminder that you can interact with me in my discord server and there's exclusive captions and stories posted there too! https://discord.gg/Hxsx2skf6b

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Admit it! You want to be down there to sniff them the moment I take them off…

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Just another hotel selfie…

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Throwback, last year in India

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