trashywhiteboysea

[trashywhiteboysea]

[trashywhiteboysea]

proper initiation scene

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

[trashywhiteboysea]

[trashywhiteboysea]

100% fuck yaa

Smoking Skater Sagger 😈😍

[trashywhiteboysea]

good trainer

[trashywhiteboysea]

Revenge

What is it that makes a human will? Why is it that we try so hard to be something unique when the world is against us.

The world of drones has ... Expanded to say the least. I watch the willing and unwilling get stripped of all identity , to then be braced in a latex to act as a new skin, all the while their previous life is erased and a new programing is set, so they are obedient and horny, a perfect drone, the final stage is a perpetually hard cock, leaking black cum..

It's almost unreal to watch it happen. It's scary, yet intriguing.

I am no one special, I'm hunter, a skinny guy trying to make ends meet in a dingy small apartment, my so called family, who are rich and have power, kicked me out long ago, I have nothing to my name, while they relax in a big house. It angers me.. I'd do anything to watch them suffer..

I laugh at the thought.. but realize it's not so I realistic .. if I could send a drone to them.. I could watch them fall

I day dream over the idea, to watch them fall into a robotic obedient drones... Would be so funny.. but then a nock at the door wakes me from my say dream.

"Oh.... Ik thosr nocks, I thought I'd never get them"

I walk over to my door and peek though the spyhole , a black figure, shiny, muscular.. a drone..

I open the door, witnessing the mighty of this being, it's throbbing dick, it's muscles, I look at it's featureless black face.

"A drone... Hello"

*Greetings. Human, It is drone 6978 it has come to evaluate you*

"Oh i see.. well I before that.. I have a request for you and your hive"

*What might that be human?*

"My stuck up snobby rich family.. left me to rot , they wanted nothing to do with me. They live comfortably in a large house while I suffer here with a dead end job and worn rags as clothes,

I would do anything to see them fall, I want revenge" a fire in my eyes

The drone processes the Information I have given it

*Human.. your order has been processed. It will be done. But one has to repay the hive for this request*

I grin wickedly at the drones words

"Well.. I look forward to watching their overdue transformation, but please.. I want them to suffer.. I want them the lowest of the low...

Are there ranks to this hive?"

The drone processes my question

*Affirmative human. There are ranks., combatant is the lowest, what you ask is for your family to be combatants?*

"Perfect..." Grins evily

"Now.. as for my payment... " I look around my small apartment for a breaf moment.. taking in the mess, the clothes, remembering the struggle.. yeah I was done with it all"

"I take it the payment is my own transformation into. Drone? Well as long as I'm a higher rank than a combatant. I'll go with you"

The drone processes the information

*It understands, your order has been processed and complete, we must proceed with your payment*

The next few moments? It's felt like a eternity of pleasure. I let the drone fuck my ass with it's leaking latex hard cock., the pleasure was intense.. my cock was hard and leaking

"Assimilation begun, it will become a drone.."

Like a chant , a echo.. it's words ring in my head, the pleasure taking over, my body beging to expand. Mucles growing.. black latex spreading all over .. drone... Drone... Must .. obey... Obedient... , I can hear the mantra.. I repeat it.. it must repeat it...

Black boots form on my feet, my cock getting bigger and starting to leak black cum.. my face and head beeping covered in latex. Becoming smooth and shiny.

The reprogramming coming to an end. One was a drone. It was a drone. It must obey

*Assimilation almost done. Stand up drone*

I stand up gettingy bareings

*It's designation is drone 4576. , repeat repeat*

My cock throbbing and mind reshaping as the pleasure builds

"It is drone 4576, it is a drone. It must obey. It must serve. It must assimilate. It must cum.."

My mind reshapes and my cock explodes with black cum , and with perpetual leak of pre cum

*Assimilation complete , it is a hunter drone , one of us. We hunt for new humans to assimilate, we are a high rank ,repeat repeat*

"It is a hunter drone, it understands"

Both our cocks throb as my programming sets in as I get it's first order

**Assimilate a rich family into combatants**

Since it doesn't remember ones past life, it doesn't realize this is it's doing, but it must do the order.. it must obey

*Let's depart. Drone*

We walk away, two drones ready to hunt

"

I hope this is an alright story 😅 long time no see !

[trashywhiteboysea]

wassup Jabari ;)

One of the football jocks gave me a strange secret Santa present. It was one of the highschool jearseys and a pair of football cleats?? When he gave them to me he was drenched in sweat , dropping wet, and smelled strongly,

What's even stranger is I think he gave me his own cleats and jersey? Or he tried them on? BC both items smelled like him, maybe he was short on time?

I've neglected to do anything about them, as they just lay in my dorm still in the box, but for some reason, I can't get the picture of that sweaty, stinky muscular man out of my head

You stare at the box as you angrily stomp down the road. How did he know? Did he know? There’s no way he could have seen, unless some passerby saw and told him… which wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibility. Either way, you are not amused. If anything this “white elephant gift” seems more like a threat than anything else. So as you arrive at the athletic dorm, you get to Jabari’s door and start pounding away.

“Jabari! Open the door.” You hear the loud music pause, and hear the football players heavy footfalls approaching. As the door swings open, you’re met with Jabari’s smug, unimpressed expression. Standing shirtless in the doorway with a joint out of his mouth.

“The fuck do you want?” He spits out at you before looking at the giant box in your hands, shitty wrapping paper barely clinging to it. He smirks. “What, bro? You didn’t like your present?” He opens the door, inviting you in.

“No. I didn’t fucking like the present.” You look around the hallway, slinking into Jabari’s room unseen. The disastrously messy room stank of weed and the familiar stink that wafts from the box in your arms. You open the box, hit with somehow still wet funk pouring from the cardboard vessel. Dumping the contents onto the floor, you grimace at the sight of the stinking cleats, practice Jersey, and cumstained cheesy jockstrap sitting on the carpet. “This supposed to be funny?” Jabari leans against the counter, crossing his socked size 15 feet and staring at you with a knowing look.

“It was funny to me, bro. Had to trade names a few times before I got yours. I thought you’d like em.” He took another drag of the joint, blowing a puff of smoke in your face. You angrily swipe the cloud away, standing your ground.

“I don’t fucking like them. So I’m returning them.” You turn to leave, but before you so much as take a step, you feel Jabari’s calloused hand firmly gripping your shoulder.

“Nah, man. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He pushes you to your knees with little effort, right in front of the cleats. “The way I hear it, you really into this shit. Mine in particular gets you off.” Your face so close the cleats, you can’t stop yourself from breathing in that heavy stench. If he’d ever washed them, it was certainly years ago. “I got eyes everywhere, bruh.” You struggle against his grip.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but…” Jabari pushes your head forward even more, the tip of your nose slowly approaching the off white fabric of the cleat.

“Nah, man. I know what you do after every practice. You think you’re slick comin round and huffin my sneaks outside that door, huh? I thought you’d like a lil piece of me at home.” He presses your face firmly into the cleat, enough that you feel the damp grimy insole on your skin. “We don’t need some fuckin foot freak up in here jackin it to our smell while we chillin inside.”

You hold your breath as long as you can but you can only hold out so long. Your lungs spasm, and you take in a full whiff of Jabari’s foot funk. The sweat and grime of endless games and even more practices, all percolating and coagulating into one atomic bomb of stink. He’s right- your clandestine nightly activities must have been noticed despite your carefulness. He gives you a moment of respite as he releases his grip on your head, allowing you to pull your face out of the smelly cavern. You stare with insurmountable embarrassment at the cleats before you.

They sit there, inundated in the jock studs sweat. In a quieter, lonely moment alone, you’d be far more comfortable burying your nose into them. But with Jabari looming above you with a scowl on his face, so full of disdain and contempt… caught red handed, you feel nothing but shame.

“Strip. Now.” You feel your face flush pale white. Your breath gets caught in your throat, rendering you barely able to speak much more than at a whisper.

“Jabari… listen. I won’t do it again.” You try to turn to face him, only to get his socked foot pressed firmly onto the side of your face, pushing it right back toward the cleats. The smell is so fresh in the damp black socks, it has a different feel to it. The cleats, the trainers, they’ve been marinating for years in that stink. This is the source, and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined.

“I said fucking strip, bruh.” You feel his meaty fingers grasp ahold of the fabric of your shirt, and with a single movement he tears it in two. “I’m tired as fuck of all y’all freaks huffin my straps and kicks when I’m not looking. Fantasizing bout me railin your dumbass. That ain’t consent, bro.” He rips your shoes and socks off your feet, tearing your shorts off as you sit there mortified.

“I wasn’t thinking! I’m sorry! You won’t have to see me again, I’ll leave you alone and you’ll forget I even exist!” Jabari puts his sweaty foot right onto your back, pushing you down to the ground, reminding you very clearly who it is that is in charge.

“Yeah you right. I’m not gonna see your ass again- I won’t even remember you. Now, put it on.” You twist your head one more time to look at him, just for him to plant that foot on your face, pushing it right back toward the cleats, jersey, and jockstrap. “All of it, bitch. Quick.” He claps his hands loudly, and you instinctively grasp the jersey, slipping it over your shoulders and letting it drape like curtains over your smaller frame. It hangs from your shoulders, almost pooling at your knees as you kneel.

“Come on, Jabari. This shit is weird as fuck. Just let me go home I won’t bother yo…” You’re unable to finish your sentence as he shoves his sweaty socks into your mouth, silencing you quickly as he holds the jockstrap in front of your face. You stifle your urge to sniff it, one last act of defiance before he slips the damp jock up your legs. You shudder at the warm wetness that surrounds your groin, the fetid taste of Jabari’s socks filling your mouth, groaning in euphoric anticipation for whatever he has planned for you. You feel the dank cleats being shoved onto your feet, the squish of his sweat and foot grime pressing onto your soles before they’re tightened and the grime surrounds your entire foot.

“There you go, bruh. It’s your fantasy right? Bein like Jabari, smellin’ like Jabari, lookin’ like Jabari…” His hand wraps around your neck, as he drags you toward his closet. He opens the door, his clothes getting pushed out of the way as your body starts to shiver and quake. “Imma let you marinate for a while, bruh. Let you take it in.” With relative ease, you’re tossed into his dark, cramped closet as he smugly scowls at you. Slowly, he shuts the closet door, plunging you into complete darkness, surrounded only by the stench of Jabari’s sweat and the ever increasing pulsations under your skin.

You reflect on what brought you here, all the times you’d snuck down the hall to bury your face in the cleats that now grace your feet. *Crack*

You reflect on the fantasies in your head of him jacking you off with those thick hands. *Squelch*

You reflect on the taste of those smelly socks stuffed into your mouth, unable to bring yourself to remove them. *Sluuuuuuuuuurp*

You close your eyes, imagining the world in which your fantasies came alive. Kicking back with him, slurping on his musky cock, not as a lil bitch but as his equal. *Whoooooosh*

You can feel the pain in your arms, your legs, your chest and groin… that ache of athleticism, that need to grow, that desire to dominate, that pride of strength and of virility instilled into you. *CREAAAAAAAAAK*

You shudder, feeling your growing bulge start to leak into Jabari’s jockstrap, imagining his sweat, his spunk, his smell all flowing into you. Inundating you, entering you, reshaping you in his image. “Unhhhhhhh” you groan, your voice deep and bellowing. *BOOOM*

Pressure grows throughout your body, you feel more and more cramped in the small confines of the closet, your thoughts growing hazy and confused, time seemingly floating by at a crawl. Then, amongst the cavalcade of aches, groans, and obscene sounds echoing in the dark; you begin to fade into the void yourself. The darkness overtakes you, and all you have left is the sounds of stretching and inflation ringing in your ears. *SNAPP*

———

Jabari looks down at his watch, paid for by some horny old man begging to worship his pits, and smirks. He takes his time getting up off the couch, leaving the Ravens game blaring on his tv. His massive soles slap against the tile floor, as he pushes the door to his bedroom open. To his surprise, the door to the closet is slid all the way open, the interior only full of his clothes. He smirks as his gaze slowly turns to the corner of the room, and there before his mirror, crouching low on muscled thighs and meaty feet is you taking some smutty selfies in his dirty mirror.

“Damn, bruh. You lookin pumped as fuck. Feeling like yourself again?” his voice is softer, like an older brother speaking to his younger brother. You turn your head, grinning your pearly whites while scratching your manicured chinstrap. Standing up, your eyes gaze directly into his, now of equal height and build.

“Yeah, bro. I don’t know what got into me.” You strut up to him, donned in only his jockstrap, now dripping with your thick and potent seed. Your hand collides with his, your biceps bulging beneath your mocha skin. “Feelin a lil pent up though, man. Think you could help a bro out?” You slip your calloused hand down the jockstrap, letting your massive python plop out of the fabric and hang halfway down your thigh. Your balls still dripping in sweat, half yours, half Jabari’s. He nods, his supple lips curling even further into a wicked smile as he wraps his fingers around your shaft. Time to blow off some steam before the game is over- besides, you have practice in the morning. Maybe some bedtime with bro is just what the doctor ordered.

If you liked this story, here’s my tip jar! Let me know what you think!

[trashywhiteboysea]

"H...Help Meeeee" Wyatt whined pitifully, still unable to make himself heard as he felt his chair tip up the bottom of the ramp and begin to ascend towards the large silver doors.

"Drone HK-041 returning Citizen for processing" the drone announced, pausing before the doors at the top of the ramp, Wyatt spotted two large cameras whirring around to point directly at them.

There was a moment of silence before a mechanical voice crackled from a speaker above.

"Affirmative...Access Granted...Drone to deliver Citizen to Processing Chamber 002"

There was a loud hiss and a rumbling noise as the doors suddenly pulled slowly apart, revealing a long corridor beyond, lit with cold sterile lighting like a hospital.

"Nn--noo." Wyatt croaked out, "I alferd youu inforformaaaatiiion. Cancan't dos dhis."

Wyatt’s heart pounded heavily in his chest, racing at the thought of what was undoubtedly to come following the words 'Processing Chamber'.

The long facility corridor felt like it was swallowing him by just being at the entrance.

He tried desperately to wave his arms or do anything to attract attention, but all he could do was twitch in his chair.

Between the latex restraints and the anaesthetic still in his system, he couldn't object in anyway, meaning the drones could do whatever they wanted to him without fear of reprisal.

He had to hope it would wear off soon or that he could hold out long enough against whatever they were planning to escape.

It was as the drone pushed the chair forwards and the sunlight faded that Wyatt felt the dread increase.

Even if he could somehow find a way to escape, he was inside the drone facility now.

He wasn't breaking out of here without help or force which he just didn’t have.

Managing to close his eyes, he prayed that he could hold out until his fail safe kicked in, an emergency teleportation device injected into his arm that would automatically bring him home if he ever got caught in an unfamiliar world.

He just had to hope that this emergency exit remained a secret to the drones and that anything they did to him was reversable when he returned home.

The vast doors rumbled closed behind the pair with a cold finality, sealing them inside the facility.

The drone paused for a moment before he continued to roll Wyatt down the corridor.

Despite the hopeless dread and increasing fear that was now flooding his mind, Wyatt became aware that he was beginning to feel more and more of his functionality returning, he was able to turn his head about and flex his fingers.

The drone made a sharp turn and Wyatt’s head flopped weakly between his shoulders, seeing blurrily how they were approaching another large set of doors which hissed open like a sci-fi film.

What was beyond made Wyatt’s eyes widen in terror.

They had entered a chamber as large as an aircraft hangar, its immense space taken up by lines upon lines of shiny, rubber drones, identical to his captor.

They all stood at attention, unmoving, unresponsive and apparently unaware or indifferent to their presence as the drone marched Wyatt right past the front line.

A sudden flare of light caught Wyatt’s attention and he watched as a drone, furthest down the front line shifted, it’s navel lighting up brightly.

Silently the drone stepped forwards and turned towards the door Wyatt and his captor had just entered through, beginning to march purposely as the symbols light faded, passing the pair without incident.

Again and again, Wyatt watched it happened, a drone’s symbol would glow before it would move off, quickly leaving on what Wyatt guessed was a new directive

As the last drone in the front row stepped away, Wyatt then watched with a sick sensation in his stomach as every remaining drone suddenly stepped forwards in a single militaristic movement, like a marching army.

Wyatt didn’t have long to dwell on it, the drone pushing him had guided him across the room, ignoring the operational functionality of its fellows and turned its prisoner towards another door which hissed open, revealing another corridor which had several large doors. Each of which, Wyatt observed, had glowing numbers above them.

The drone paused for a moment and Wyatt, still reeling from the sight of the army of drones, took the time to assess his condition.

His body was still weak from the sedative, but he mustered everything he could in breaking out of his bonds. He twisted, pulled and strained but it wasn’t enough, whatever rubber this was, it was far beyond his ability to break with pure strength.

“You have no right to do this” Wyatt growled angrily, relishing at the fact that he could finally speak coherently again.

“I was cooperating until you didn’t like what I offered.”

The drones head lowered, staring at the back of Wyatt’s head.

"Citizen's statement is invalid" the drone stated simply, "Citizen agreed to provide physical and mental samples of existing or past dronification...Citizen did not specify method or location for collection to Collective...Collective therefore will provide said facilities....Citizen agreed to these terms....Citizen will honour agreement to the Collective"

With a jerk, the drone resumed its directive, beginning to wheel Wyatt down the corridor, the numbers above the doors bright against the strip lighting.

Glancing up, Wyatt saw "005" emblazoned above the nearest door and caught the sound of an ominous whirring and beeping  from beyond the sealed door as they passed.

What Wyatt heard only heightened his fear, passing each door in the corridor and hearing a different noise as the numbers counted down.

The final two doors stood opposite each other at the dead end of the corridor, 001 and 002.

The drone wheeled Wyatt to face the room 002 and in the moment before the door hissed open, Wyatt heard another noise issuing from the door behind them.

It was muffled but Wyatt distinctly heard a human voice.

It was filled with terror.

"Please...I didn't ask for this....Please...No...NOOO!"

[trashywhiteboysea]

Aiden could smell the sharp scent of adrenaline rising off him, a scent that caught his attention immediately because it wasn’t the norm for him unless he was really being pushed to run hard in gym or something like that. His pecs were twitching, swelling, turning into firm, wide mounds of muscle as the pain spread upwards to his neck and all down his arms. His biceps were cramping, baseballs of muscle jumping up on them, which he could clearly see from his position on the table. The cramps in his legs had died down, and now his arms were fine, the burning and cramping being more in his feet and hands. Breathing deeply, his lips pulsed in the shape of an O, he thought for a brief second that maybe this wasn’t so bad, despite all the pain. Maybe he would be able to handle this, this new muscle, which wasn’t as hulky as he feared. The baseball shaped biceps on his arms looked just about right, an attractive, jocked-out model look that he could learn to live with. But then the burning sensations were returning, and he was heating up more, and the cramps returned. He saw his abs pop even harder, his pecs continue to expand, and watched his biceps strain and swell further as the pain persisted, refusing to stop, refusing to die down. His guns, which is what they were starting to look like, were pushing into larger baseballs and then more towards a small football size, stretching the skin so tight as veins started to pop out and demand the attention of his eyes, all while his muscles seemed to be throbbing, harder and harder on a rocket of swelling pain.

He was screaming freely now, as he hyperventilated, such dry, sharp screams, until suddenly his voice cracked down in a hoarse, choked-off scream, the fall of a whole octave in one jolt. His vocal chords, steeped in the spreading effects of the serum, were growing and maturing in size along with the rest of him. And he couldn’t stop screaming, sounding like a cow or a bull to himself, these lower, stupid-sounding screams of a man trapped like a prodded bull in a stall. His voice continued to fray as he screamed uncontrollably, sounding ever more ragged and shredded, and not being able to stop screaming seemed to only strain his taxed vocalizations all the more.

Looking down at his sweating, overstrained body, the pecs that were now jutting from his chest, all Aiden could think to do now was try to break out of his restraints and scream. He let out a low, gutteral groan that sounded more and more like a roar as he shifted his weight to his side, trying to find the power to break the velcro. This was too much pain and transformation and he would not comply. It was evil. He had to get out of this, he had to make it clear to this doctor’s office that this was not right, he had to get out of it all before things got even worse. He wasn’t thinking clearly anymore.

Strapped Down and Beefed Up

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

It was a nightmare scenario for Aiden, but his dad, firm of tone and sick of having a snowflake of a son, was fully adamant.

“You must do this, Aiden. I’m not giving you a choice. Everybody gets some body work done these days. It’s not like I’m forcing you to change your gender or get massive reconstructive surgery like one of those CK models. You’re not going to be a Gaga Version 7.0 or a Beyoncebot. I’m not putting you through any oddball risks for a Guinness Record, either. Look, you think those freakish long legs on Nastasha, excuse me, but that’s how I think of her, Natasha Abioye look natural on a woman? Not to me they don’t.”

“Think of it this way. It’s not any different than going to the dentist or barber shop, ok? You think your teeth are natural? You think your hairstyle is natural? Of course not. I just want you to live up to your fullest potential. You haven’t exactly been a stellar student. You’re not even in the top 10 percentile. You’ll finally man up. You’ll have some serious guns and everybody will be jealous. And I’ll get the son I was always hoping for. It’s win-win. You’ll still be you, just a much better version of you. Don’t you want to be a better man?”

“Yes it is different, dad. For starters, we’re supposed to be making society more feminine, not more masculine. For second, it’s not my choice. I have some serious gender dysphoria, which I’ve told you about repeatedly. If I’m getting any hormonal or surgically corrective work done, it will be to transition to a woman. Mom said maybe I could. Almost every queer guy my age goes in that direction. There’s not even many lesbians who want to be a man anymore. You just don’t get it because you don’t go to my school. Men are obsolete. I’ve read Caitlyn Moran. You haven’t even read her, dad. I should know better than you on what’s real,” Aiden said.

“Just look at the statistics about men,” Aiden continued, trying to really connect with his father on something he could relate to. “I am good at statistics so I do have something to offer. I’m making plenty of progress. Maybe someday I’ll even be an actuary or accountant for an LGBTQIAP+ Resource Center. I can’t see myself caring about most jobs but I could care about that. I do get a say in my own life. What about that can’t you understand?”

Aiden’s dad just shook his head and laughed. It wasn’t a mean laugh, but a bitter one, a sad laugh. Aiden could tell it was his dad’s way of coping with a world that had headed in a direction he just didn’t understand. Aiden figured his dad must have feel he like the world that had shifted right out from under him, so he tried to be empathetic. He even felt kind of guilty and ashamed for the moment, feeling aware of his dad’s antiquated value system and how he hadn’t measured up to that expectation. But it was still Aiden’s life, not his dad’s. There was no way he was going to let his own life be derailed. Being a part of community-based social justice movements for almost two years had taught him so much about what truly should matter to us all.

“Aiden, my son, maybe someday you’ll understand. But this babble that’s pouring out of your mouth is exactly why this needs to be done for you. No more arguing, ok. I’ve already put money down for it.”

The fateful day was just around the corner, and Aiden was even considering running away from home. But where would he go? He was thinking about begging the school to intervene, but could they? Would they? That would almost definitely lead to a conference call with his father, and how would that end. He tried his mother, but she just said talk to your father as it was his decision, not mine. So he sulked and refused to budge instead. Maybe his dad would eventually listen to reason if he displayed how deeply upset he was.

But then it was Wednesday, and his dad had told him he was off school for the rest of the week, and he’d already let the school office know about his doctor’s appointment today. As far as Aiden was concerned, he’d have to be frog-marched there as he wasn’t going to go. He practically was marched out, in the end, as his dad had to take him by the arm to get him moving down the stairs.

“Here’s one way to think of it, Aiden. You’re transitioning, son, which is the big contemporary trend, right? You’re just transitioning in a different way from the herd. Think of it that way if it helps you get through this. I’m going to be so proud of you for taking it like a man today. You’re legitimately going to transition into a real man right before your very eyes. Believe me, that’s going to be so much more valuable and needed in the future than anything your friends are playing around with right now.”

“Dad, this is so wrong,” Aiden pleaded from the passenger seat. He was looking over at his dad behind the wheel, eyes straight ahead on the road. Aiden tried to make his own face look as panged as he could, hoping the expression on his face would be enough to make a difference. It wasn’t.

“There really is no right and wrong, so give it a rest, Aiden. I’m your dad and whatever I say is just as right as anything they might teach you in that school. Sheesh. I should have packed up the wagons and moved the family to Sandy Springs or Alpharetta a long time ago. This joke of a school system has totally failed you. Just you wait, my son. Dad’s fixing the mistake he made by skimping on a better neighborhood and school district. That was my mistake, but I’m finally making things right for you today.”

Even in the doctor’s office Aiden wouldn’t give it a rest. “Please, dad. Please,” he tried to beg at the reception desk, clutching at his dad’s sleeve, trying to get through to him, somehow, even though he wanted nothing more than to push him away and pout hard. He had to try, though. This was his life on the line. The embarrassment of whatever his dad was going to put him today through was nothing compared to what he’d even have to deal with at school.

None of Aiden’s friends were on the side of men, and who knew how they’d treat him after this. If you wanted to be respected, you had to have a body that was oppressed and had at least some sort of claim to victimhood. Everybody knew it. A man’s body was going to mess everything up and who knew how he’d be treated in one of those. He’d be stuck in the exact same kind of body he and his friends were always trying to take down. His dad didn’t seem to understand any of this. Aiden was even sobbing right in the waiting room.

“Oh Aiden,” Aiden’s dad said, sighing heavily. “I’m so disappointed in you. Really, stop it with the tears. I was hoping you’d start finally begin to at least try pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. But it looks like we’ll be strapping you down today instead.”

And indeed, in the doctor’s office, it soon became clear that restraints were an option. Aiden had started panicking over the mere suggestion of a needle, and seemed to barely be able to simply make it through his blood pressure being taken today without a panic attack. Aiden’s dad was the one who suggested to the doctor that they restrain him. “Sorry, doc. He’s overacting because he thinks it’ll get him out of this,” Aiden’s dad said to the doctor. “I don’t know why he has to be like this today as he knew it was coming. But I’m sure you’ve seen this behavior before.”

“Yes, we do see this a lot,” said the doctor, calm and collected, continuing on with his work as he talked. “We usually go with restraints in at least 3 out of 4 cases or so. It’s just easier that way for everyone involved. Sometimes the liberty of the changes happening freely is good option for everyone involved, and we’ve even done them with the boys sitting upright before. You’ll find you get the same results either way in the end, however.”

Aiden was asked to disrobe, which he did very slowly, full of embarrassment and shaking with nervousness. Then he was asked to lay on his back on the doctor’s table, the rattle of the medical paper below him catching his attention as he got situated. The doctor opened a lower cabinet and got out the velcro restraints to be clasped upon his arms and legs. Aiden had never seen velcro so thick before. The doctor had to pull the cuffs open with both hands, straining to unclasp all four of them as they were so heavy duty. Aiden felt frozen and numb, like a dumb animal, as the restrains clamped him to the metal bars of the table.

He could feel the chill of the metal brush up against one of his thighs, which was a bit splayed out and lightly brushing against the cold gleam. Aiden didn’t really know much about metal or beds, medicine or velcro, any of it. It wasn’t what was important to him. But right now he at least wished he knew more so he could find a way out of this.

He tried to sit up and couldn’t. Maybe something would go wrong. He hoped so. An earthquake, a blackout, anything at all would be good right now. Maybe his dad or the doctor would just die of a heart attack. “Please,” Aiden started to say out loud, really wanting to make his point about how wrong this all was. “You’re not my dad. Stop it. You’re not my dad at all if you do this to me.”

“Sure thing, Aiden, whatever,” his dad said, chuckling the tone in his voice lightly dismissive. “Look at you, you all all prepped and ready to go. Are you ready to say goodbye to sissyhood?

Aiden’s dad continued, “I just have to tell you, son, that I knew this was the perfect option for you once you started sassing off so much and saying ‘sis’ all the time like you thought it was the same as saying ‘peace on earth and mercy mild’. It’s really a travesty that your school let you down. The war on men has been going on since before I was even born, and I suppose you didn’t stand a chance. That war was already the establishment by the time you went off to kindergarten. It really did make you a sissy. Well, son, now you’ll finally be a man, a big man. Just you wait until your worldview becomes clarified for you. You’re gonna have the time of your life.”

Aiden whimpered as he saw the doctor get out a long needle, and continue to do so as the doc approached his nutsack, but he couldn’t see anything that far down in these restraints. All he could really do was stare to the sides, or stare at the ceiling, so it was just a quick job of pain at first. And then there was the sickening feeling of a large amount of liquid being injected into his right testicle. It was just as bad when the doc did his left nut.

“Goodbye, sissy,” Aiden’s dad said. “Look at those nuts. You’re getting some big ones already, you should see them.” Aiden would be mad if he weren’t so terrified. This was all so wrong, so evil and such a betrayal. When he was free again he would definitely do everything in his power to make it clear this was not ok. Just because he’d end up with a changed body did not mean he ever needed to go along with it in his own mind. And he would never accept that his dad was doing this to him. This was so terribly wrong.

And then the pain started, just a flicker at first, like a match being lit inside his nutsack. Aiden started screaming as he felt the fluid start to burn. It was as if his balls were heating up. It felt as if they had already swollen and as if they were swelling even more. The felt as if somebody had just set them on fire. Even worse, it felt like the blaze was still growing. The pain felt absolutely excruciating, as if his body was going to swell, pop, and mutate into some heated up mountain of flesh, the monster of muscle his dad had told him he wanted, a jacked stack of living meat and flesh. It was the polar opposite of what he wanted to be. But it was already happening. Aiden could feel his dick burning, throbbing, as the fire spread, the sensation of blood pumping into his dick. His dick was swelling, burgeoning, expanding clearly palpable to him. He could feel it swell and feel it embiggen against his nuts. He tried to wrest his way out of these tight velcro manacles. They were so much tighter than the blood pressure cuff, though. He couldn’t break them. He was stuck.

It already felt like whatever had been injected into his groin was spreading outwards down his veins . The formula had gotten into his bloodstream. He could feel waves of heat radiating upwards towards his abs, out towards his ass, and all down his thighs.

Muscle started to swell and explode on Aiden’s upper thighs as he cramped up, shaking with cramps and pain. The muscles of his ass felt thick, hard, pushing backwards against the table, his glutes expanding outwards. The pain spread down to his lower legs as his calves started twitching. His quads and hams were totally on fire now. His feet were already cramping, and almost his entire torso felt aflame. He could see when he opened his eyes – which was hard to do given the pain – that his cramping, sharply strained abs were swelling up hard, firm, round and as cobbled as well-worn bricks arising from his smooth belly. He had abs that would never retract now, it looked like, firm and proudly raised from a tight belly that was taking on a very cut V-shape. He was really turning into a man, some sort of muscular dude with a cut gym body. He felt a wave of nausea. The shockingly painful, jolting sensations of a body that was mutating beyond his will, a sharply masculine body, had completely flooded his mind and were almost overwhelming him.

Aiden could smell the sharp scent of adrenaline rising off him, a scent that caught his attention immediately because it wasn’t the norm for him unless he was really being pushed to run hard in gym or something like that. His pecs were twitching, swelling, turning into firm, wide mounds of muscle as the pain spread upwards to his neck and all down his arms. His biceps were cramping, baseballs of muscle jumping up on them, which he could clearly see from his position on the table. The cramps in his legs had died down, and now his arms were fine, the burning and cramping being more in his feet and hands. Breathing deeply, his lips pulsed in the shape of an O, he thought for a brief second that maybe this wasn’t so bad, despite all the pain. Maybe he would be able to handle this, this new muscle, which wasn’t as hulky as he feared. The baseball shaped biceps on his arms looked just about right, an attractive, jocked-out model look that he could learn to live with. But then the burning sensations were returning, and he was heating up more, and the cramps returned. He saw his abs pop even harder, his pecs continue to expand, and watched his biceps strain and swell further as the pain persisted, refusing to stop, refusing to die down. His guns, which is what they were starting to look like, were pushing into larger baseballs and then more towards a small football size, stretching the skin so tight as veins started to pop out and demand the attention of his eyes, all while his muscles seemed to be throbbing, harder and harder on a rocket of swelling pain.

He was screaming freely now, as he hyperventilated, such dry, sharp screams, until suddenly his voice cracked down in a hoarse, choked-off scream, the fall of a whole octave in one jolt. His vocal chords, steeped in the spreading effects of the serum, were growing and maturing in size along with the rest of him. And he couldn’t stop screaming, sounding like a cow or a bull to himself, these lower, stupid-sounding screams of a man trapped like a prodded bull in a stall. His voice continued to fray as he screamed uncontrollably, sounding ever more ragged and shredded, and not being able to stop screaming seemed to only strain his taxed vocalizations all the more.

Looking down at his sweating, overstrained body, the pecs that were now jutting from his chest, all Aiden could think to do now was try to break out of his restraints and scream. He let out a low, gutteral groan that sounded more and more like a roar as he shifted his weight to his side, trying to find the power to break the velcro. This was too much pain and transformation and he would not comply. It was evil. He had to get out of this, he had to make it clear to this doctor’s office that this was not right, he had to get out of it all before things got even worse. He wasn’t thinking clearly anymore.

Aiden’s body, or at least as much as he could see of it as he looked down, was looking masculine, massive and freakish. His broad pecs now a thick shelf of meat that expanded outward. His back had widened into a thick hood of meat that took up a bigger slab of the table. His neck was thick and bullish, and his arms were just snaking with veins that had popped up all up and down the length of his forearms. Most of his arms and some of his torso now had a vascular look that he’d never be able to hide again. The pumping veins of his football-shaped biceps were drawing his attention once again, so much bigger than he had ever wanted or thought possible. His rounded shoulders and glutes had him feeling like he was sitting higher on the table, even, which was completely disorienting. His cock and balls had stopped burning, and he mostly soon only felt burning and smaller cramps, smaller jolts, on the nape of his neck, in his hands, and in his feet.

And then it died down, the rollercoaster of a mutating injection being largely overly and done with, and then there he was, breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were wide open and roving wildly over minute details about the room that he didn’t even seem to care about before. He looked back at his swollen bicep and couldn’t get over how it looks completely different, with so many lines of vein to trace and note, so many different shapes and ridges of muscle to take into account.

“You ok, Aiden?” his dad said, looking down at him, patting on one of his legs as if to comfort him, the doctor taking notes with a pen and a chart to his side. “Just wait until you see yourself, Aiden. You’re not even gonna believe it.”

Then they were undoing his heavy straps, the doctor and his dad working together, ripping the heavy straps open. And then he was sitting up, feeling somewhat dizzy. Part of him wanted to lash out at the two of them, which he probably could, given this body. And yet he was so disoriented and even more importantly, it was already over now. It couldn’t be undone. This was his body, now. He had to at least figure out what they had done to him first.

They walked him over to the mirror, his dad gripping his arm and helping to steady him as he found his balance.

He looked at his reflection. He had completely hulked out and turned into a freak, he thought, like a bull of a man, or a beast of a man. Maybe a silverback gorilla crossed with a bull, he finally considered. He barely even recognised himself like this, and this body seemed to have nothing in common with the personality traits of his that he had long considered so important. His face was now covered with a dense, short but thickly bristled beard. He hadn’t even noticed it in all the ensuing chaos and the intensely burning, muscular mutation. It’s not easy to see your own facial hair without a mirror, Aiden figured. It still surprised him to see a hairy face reflected back at him.

He was now just corded with vascularity. He looked massive and felt massive, noting that they were two very different things, and both happening at the same time now. The doctor gave him a towel to put on to cover himself up, and he couldn’t even believe the size of his long, thick dick and how low his nuts were hanging, hairier than ever, not to mention the way his pubic bush had thickened up and spread out. His dad helped him wrap the towel around his waist, tucking the the corner in tight so it would hold. “There you go, big guy,” his dad said, slapping him gently and affectionately on the back. “Man, Aiden, you really do look great. You did a great job getting through that pain, too.”

Aiden looked in the mirror again, eyes both glazed over with shock and wildly searching, as if he weren’t even able to quite yet find even himself. He felt like he was still trying to come to. It was similar to feeling like he was underwater, and very much a dreamlike sensation, like he couldn’t quite wake up, although he definitely wasn’t sleepy. He still felt on edge and could feel the pump of his blood right through his arteries as it pulsed to feed his new, much thicker muscles. He could feel the tight, eager power and energy in his legs. He could see it all over his torso, this raw power he now had, this taut, lean meat that was stimulated with adrenaline and ready to burst into physical action, physical activity, the sort of life he hadn’t led before. All that muscle he’d developed looked both out of control and good at the same time. Aiden really wasn’t sure what to think, and he felt like it was difficult to even try to think right now. He didn’t want this, and it was going to be so awkward to go to school like this, right? He had been mad at his dad earlier, right? How was he going to manage at school when he looked like this? What was he… he was trying to think, and decided it didn’t matter right now. He had to get accustomed to this body. He looked so different. The muscle looked good, didn’t it? He really looked fit as hell.

“Flex for us, Aiden,” the doctor said, calmly and clearly. “Like this,” the doc said, putting down his chart and doing a double biceps even in his lab coat, smiling. Aiden didn’t react right away, still feeling dazed, so the doc did it again. “Like this,” the doc said, putting his arms up again.

“Ok, doctor,” Aiden said, thinking his own voice sounded low, stupid and weird. He wasn’t sure what to say. This really was like a dreamstate, almost, he thought. He thought of how weird it felt to even feel his thickened, larger feet against the bare carpet. How weird it felt to have this towel around his very tight waist and these huge thighs just bursting out from under it. How weird this fur looked on his face in the mirror, far denser of a beard than he could grow before.

Aiden turned to the mirror, raised his arms in a couple biceps and flexed, hoping he was doing it right, noticing the corded veins pop even more. He felt lightheaded from all of this, but at the same time, he felt confident. His dad and the doctor really liked the results, and it was hard not to be impressed by such a body. It was very hard, Aiden realised, and it was his now. His.

“Uh, um… like that, doctor?” he started to say, struggling for words, focused on his reflection.

“Like that, Aiden,” the doctor said, picking up his clipboard again.

Then his dad was standing by his side, talking to him again as he looked in the mirror and down at his own body, still getting to know how different it looked. “Very nice job, Aiden, and I’m proud of you,” his dad said. “You are going to be able to chase any tail you want in school now. Just look at those guns. Just make sure to make those boys earn it. Put them in their place and show them who’s boss. And don’t ever let them act like they’re better than you.”

“For sure, dad,” Aiden responded, just wanting to agree with him for the moment, not really thinking about all that right now. The thought of scoring any boy in school does seem pretty awesome, though, since he mentioned it. In this body he’d be the ones always expected to top guys, he suddenly thought, but especially with the way he was feeling right now, he might be fine with that, or more than fine. He could top any guy he wanted with this body, probably. All this muscular energy was going to have to go somewhere, he knew, and it might as well be into sex. And would he be getting into sports now? He’d be working out from now on, right?

“Aiden, I know you were afraid of this all at first, but we sure knocked the sissy right out of you with that formula, didn’t we? How are you feeling now? You can be honest.” his dad said with a cheerful, friendly tone.

“Well” Aiden said, flexing in front of the mirror, trying to figure out how he really felt. “I look in the mirror and I see a real bull of a man. It feels better than I expected. I guess I can’t say I asked for this. But with all this muscle on me and looking and feeling so different, I honestly think I’m really going to come to like it. I can see why you wanted me to do this. Right now, I’m feeling like I should even thank you, dad. I mean, this is crazy, but that’s how I feel. The energy of this muscle is amazing,” Aiden said, flexing again in a double biceps, enjoying the feel of making that muscle pump up. It felt kind of weird that he had just said that to his dad, like he wouldn’t have said it before at all. And yet it felt right. His body felt so different so why wouldn’t he feel totally different, too? He had the right to change his opinion if he wanted to.

“You’ll figure it out in the end, Aiden. They’ve got to weigh you up and take some bloodwork and a few diagnostics. Glad you came around. I’ll be outside waiting for you when you finish up.”

“Thanks, dad. This isn’t so bad. In fact, I think it’s kinda badass.”

“Hell yeah it is,” my dad says. “That’s what I want to hear, Aiden.”

“Well then hell yeah, it’s some badass shit, dad. I look like a total stud now. Really looking forward to seeing what this body can do.”

I give my old man an embrace and pat him on the back as he walks out towards the waiting room.

[trashywhiteboysea]

waddup homie ;) yo fit on fire yo

[trashywhiteboysea]

Waiting for prey…. 🪼

[trashywhiteboysea]

Bucket list. Hot af

I was on my way to a friend's house when I felt like a bite on my neck and then everything started to spin. Suddenly everything went dark as I felt the sweet hug of the void. Now I don't understand where I am. I'm bonded inside a weird pod kind of thing and I hear bipping sounds. Oh wait, i think I can find a way if I can just unscrew this ... Hey! Wait no, get off of me. What the fuck is that?! No Stop!! What is happening to me?! What are you doing?! Get those glasses off my face. No stop don't put this in my mou...MmmHHfffFFfffFfff...

You blink slowly as you open your weary eyes. Your temples throb and a dull pain in the back of your neck has you groaning with discomfort. As you try to raise your arm to massage your aching head- sudden, painful resistance. Groggy, you twist your gaze downward and immediately, you feel entirely alert with a sobering realization. Cold, rigid cuffs are clasped tightly around your wrists, binding you firmly to the cold metal table beneath you.

You shiver, your bare naked body lies on the frigid surface as you take stock of your surroundings. The room is dark, barely lit with a dim red light on the far concrete wall. From this vantage point, you’re just able to make out the industrial ductwork on the ceiling and rows of shelves lining the side of the cavernous room. The buzzing and whirring of heavy machinery is cacophonous and intense- your ears are ringing already, and the intense noises are only worsening your growing discomfort.

Suddenly, light. Bright, blinding light. You close your eyes, the pale white illumination overpowering your blurry vision. The clink of a lock and sound of a heavy metal door rolling open makes your heart drop to your toes. You feel your breath start to quicken, grow shallow, and quiet whimpers escape your lips as thumping footsteps slowly approach you. You turn your head toward them, and squint your eyes; there’s easily twenty more men restrained and passed out, and slowly approaching out of the wide open door is your likely captor.

They’re massive- easily seven feet tall, and extremely broad. From head to toe, they’re covered entirely by a mustard yellow rubber hazmat suit, their face entirely obscured by the gas mask atop their head. A long tube slithers out of it and into some strange canister attached to their hip; you feel yourself squirm as you see it seemingly undulating, as if something more than gaseous vapors were being pumped through it. The heavy rubber boots squeak as the captor arrives in front of your table, cocking their head to the right before flexing their arm.

You try to speak, but only hoarse, indecipherable groans are able to leave your mouth. The captor leans over you, reaching beneath your table and ruffling through contents below. You get a whiff of the heavy rubber, the scent of industrial latex wafting from the suit as you feel its slick texture slide over your dick. You moan ever so slightly, enough to catch the captors attention. Up close, you’re able to hear the machine strapped to their waist. Inside the tube, you can hear thick, viscous slurps and squelches as it shudders against your chest.

Beneath that mask, you swear you can feel the captor grinning wildly- what else would some lunatic kidnapper be doing under there? From under the metal surface, they pry out an item you can’t quite make out at first- though when you realize just what it is, abject terror fills your soul. A full black rubber gas mask sits in the captors hands, the tube dangling wildly as they slowly slide it over your head. The smell inside is intense- thick, concentrated rubber, and the heady stench of sweat fills your lungs to capacity. The interior is sticky, and it tightly suctions to your head as if vacuum sealed.

Bound and now arguably gagged, you’re unable to offer any resistance against them as they fasten a heavy rubber apron around your body, slipping on fantastically large gloves and boots onto your hands, arms, and feet. For a moment, the captor just stands at the foot of the table, cocking their head to the right and left, as if admiring their handiwork. You moan as you feel their rubbery grip slide up your bare leg, beneath the heavy apron and grasp your unintentionally hard cock.

The slow, deliberate strokes of your dick seem like a cruel tease to you- the slick rubber gloves feel as if they’re lubing themselves as they slide up and down your length. Your head is thrown backward in ecstasy, the sloshing of the captor’s tube and the wet sounds of your dick getting stroked echoing in your ears. So enveloped are you by carnal pleasuring that you don’t even seem to realize the captor taking ahold of the tube slinking down from the gas mask you’re donning. It’s only after hearing a metallic clink that you look down to see that the captor has detached their tube from the machine, and has attached it to yours.

Immediately, you feel a long rubber tendril extend from the mask, thrusting past your lips and into your mouth. It clamps down onto your teeth, fastening hard before you hear the grumbling start to emanate from the captor. Their tube starts to quiver again, and you can feel something rushing down from their mask. You have a mere moment of final panic before a torrent of liquid bursts into your mouth and down your throat. The taste is foul- as if you’re licking a tire, a condom, the sole of a sneaker… The rubber flavor matches the thick consistency; it’s gloopy, glue like and seems to have some sort of locomotion of its own as it plows down into your stomach.

Still stroking you slow and steady, the massive captor climbs atop the table, straddling your waist as they feed you the substance. Your stomach starts to distend as it fills, the uncomfortable feeling of fullness quickly becoming an enrapturing one. You find yourself hungrily drinking down the sludge, your belly growing larger and larger. Beneath the rubber apron, you see the bubbling of your abdomen bulging and squirming. Frankly, every ounce of care you had has melted away at this point. You’re so entirely lost in the pleasure that the reality of your situation is simply thousands of miles away from your mind.

Had it been present in your mind, you’d would realize that your quickly bloating stomach is no longer going to be able to contain the volume. Had it been present in your mind, you’d see the shrinking form of the captor slowly deflating on your lap. Had it been present in your mind, you’d recognize that the sludge in your gut is starting to spread outward- your chest and arms swelling larger and larger… But it isn’t present in your mind. You can only happily groan into the stinking rubber mask shellacked to your head, as your legs and feet grow large and long and your arms double, then triple in size.

Your skin stretches and warps, your bones crack and break. The suited captor is all but entirely gone, just the last vestiges of sludge inside a vacant hazmat suit sitting atop your bulking, bubbling quads. Your cock throbs hungrily as it stretches longer and longer, begging for more stimulation your hand cannot currently provide. As the last of the sludge barrels into your gullet, you hear a loud and sharp crack inside your head, and you scream as you feel the sludge squeeze inside of your skull, pressure building in your head as it penetrates your brain.

Then, silence. The only noise coming from your writhing, contorting body is the sounds of slimy schlorps, squelches, and stretching. The cuffs around your wrists and ankles finally release, and thankfully so. The meat around them is so swollen, so large, that the moment they unlatched, the deep canyons where they’d been quickly were filled in with sludge. Your body shudders and gargles, and still growing on the cold table. Your legs start to slide down off of the edge of the table until your gigantic feet gently touch the ground, even as you are laying on your back. Your arms follow suit, stretching longer and longer until your knuckles feel the hard cement floor.

The noises starting to subside, and your body finally ceasing to grow much beyond the 7’2” inflated muscle man you now appear to be. Your body begins to move of its own accord, your former consciousness all but entirely integrated into the captor now piloting your body. He takes his first breath as you- all of your memories, your knowledge, your language incorporated fully into his mind as he purges the remainder of who you once were. All you feel now is what he feels. All you think now are his thoughts.

Your gigantic hand reaches to the mask, ripping it off your head and revealing a face no longer your own- recognizable only to one with a keen sense of observation. In one swift movement, you launch yourself onto your feet, which squish against the cold concrete, the sound of the sludge still sloshing about within. The wet slaps of your footsteps sauntering out of the open door echo in the chamber as you pass the group of vessels, each waiting for their own assimilation and corruption in a deep slumber.

The door behind you closes in a loud thunk, as jets blow in every which direction while you strip the temporary conversion garbs from your body. Looking down, you quietly observe your new form- chiseled, wide, fit, tall… a serpentine footlong cock slithers and coils around your thick thigh. Your expression is unwavering, entirely stoic, emotionless, empty. All notions of human nature are completely gone- you once would have seen this form and immediately busted a nut. Though with him in control, it is mere indifference.

You continue walking down the cylindrical passageway, each step squelching loudly and leaving behind a slimy, wet footprint of your size 20 feet. You crack your neck, rolling your shoulders and hope the measly human skeleton within will gain its newfound strength sooner rather than later. Looking down as you walk, you cock your head to the right, and your cock immediately starts to unfurl from your leg. You allow some of your slime to exit from the slit, your baseball sized balls now churning enough to maintain yourself naturally, and watch as the rubbery black sludge begins to coat your lower body. It cascades down your legs, all the way down to your feet. More and more secretes from your groin, until by the time the door to the training room opens before you, your new uniform has already solidified into its elastic, slick solid state.

Inside of the room, your brothers are examining their new vessels, ensuring the conversion was complete and successful. If not, they’re purged from the human and return to their containment suits, still assimilated with their hosts intertwined in their minds. You lean back against the quaz’sirkk bars behind you, awaiting for one of them to come check you; you’ve been waiting some time for a vessel, and this time it’s a good chance it’s your forever home.

[trashywhiteboysea]

SKIN 3 YEARS

Every school has one. A bully boy and his victim, the bullied. At this school it was no exception. Phil was obviously the bully in his year. Rough, well built with muscles in all the right places, couldn’t give a fuck about his class results always dressed in jeans and T shirt and Doc Marten boots.  Most of the other guys in the year kept away from him. No one wanted to be friends with such a jerk, a bully. That only made Phil more aggressive. So he chose his victim. It was obvious. It had to be the bookish Simon, same height but slim built, wavy hair and also someone who seemed to have few friends. Phil knew Simon was his victim and Simon knew he was being earmarked so whenever possible he kept a wide berth and if Simon saw him coming up the corridor he would dive in to a classroom to escape. Little by little the taunting started coming up behind Simon and grabbing his arm tightly so it would bruise, telling him

‘Trying to avoid me you little runt.’

‘Fucking little bookworm’

‘Fucking little mummy’s boy.’

Soon Phil decided a good idea to let the others know so would shout as he passed by Simon. 

‘Who’s a fucking little queer.’

‘A right little fucking bum boy.’

‘Bet you are a good cocksucker.’

No one did anything to help and Simon was too terrified to report.

Phil escalated his attacks and would grab Simon’s books

‘Give me your fucking homework so I can copy .’and would snatch the books and give them back a day later once he was ready to hand in his work. Some teachers wondered how the hell Phil’ s work started to become better but no one sought to question.

One day Phil came up behind Simon and whispered 

‘At break get behind the bike shed and don’t be late.’

Simon was terrified as he would have no one to see whatever Phil had in mind and also he had no idea what he wanted but he knew he had to go there

At break Simon turned the corner and Phil was there legs apart smoking a ciggie.

‘I knew you would come. Too terrified not to eh you little pussy. I need my ciggies so empty your pockets and give me your money. Now

‘I haven’t much on me .’Simon replied sheepishly

‘Get the fucking money out and give it or do you want a thumping.’

Simon dug his hands into his trousers and handed over the few coins he had.

‘Is this all you fucking well have?’

As Phil said this he flung Simon back against the wall and pushed his body up tight against Simon forcing one leg tight into Simon’s crotch.

‘You fucking little wimp. I deserve to make mincemeat out of you. You were born to be a fucking bullied little pile of shit.’

Simon could feel Phil’s breath smelling of cigarette smoke spreading across his mouth. Then Phil moved his head back and spat a great gob at Simon, taking a hand and rubbing it over his eyes and mouth.

‘This is what you fucking deserve you little fag boy.’

Suddenly Phil’s face gave a sneering smile

‘Shit man you are loving this. What’s  this my leg is up against. You have a rock solid boner which was not there a minute ago. You fucking love my leg in. your crotch and my spit all over that face of yours.’

Saying that Phil moved his hand down and grabbed Simon’s cock and balls.

‘A right tent pole you got there Who would have thought you’d have a cock that size. What a pity as you’ll never get to use that up a hole. A right pair of big dangling balls as well. You fucking love me rubbing you up. You’ re a faggot after all. Maybe you should be my faggot . Believe it or not but you have made my cock nice and stiff and once it’s hard like now it needs some action and you pussy boy can ease the pressure inside that dick of mine. Get down on your fucking knees, now!’

Simon knelt his face looking straight at the stiff cock inching down Phil’s jeans.

‘Now unzip me you little prick and get your hand inside to feel that nice stiff piece of meat of mine.’

Simon could not believe that he was in front of his tormentor staring at the outline of cock and his own felt almost on fire with desire. And now he has been commanded to open Phil’s flies and dig in deep to release that thick cock, a cock he had secretly dreamt about and at times imagining had wanked on.

Phil undid the top button to enable Simon’s hand to get in and feel the warmth of the stiff prick. As Simona had suspected Phil was always commando as he had been able to sometimes watch Phil walking down the street and the cock sliding up and down in the jeans. 

The cock flipped out

‘Maybe not as long as yours, faggot but nice and thick. So if you are my faggot you know what to do. Take a good firm grip and move it to that gaping mouth of yours. Bet you have never sucked dick before. Yes?’

‘No.’

‘I thought that but I look at that baby face of yours and know you want to. Just  breathe carefully and start by rimming my head letting your spit slide over it. Once you have my full head in your mouth the rest will come naturally. Trust me. My cock has been in many mouths desperate to take my cum.’

Phil pushed his prick into Simon’s face.

‘Now open wide faggot’

Simon opened and started to rim the thick head with his spit savouring the sense of smell and skin, especially letting his tongue linger under the head knowing from wanking that this was a sensitive part. He was right as he heard Phil groan

‘That’s right you little poof boy now let those fucking lips of yours take in the whole head and I want to feel the edge get into that throat of yours. Shits that’s it, I knew you were a fucking homo boy wanting cock the moment I saw you. Now I am going to slide the full shaft in and get ready to open that mouth of yours wider to take it all, I want to feel it surging down the back of your throat.’

Simon started to choke but knew he could not let the cock out of his mouth so started to breathe and let his spit ease the movement down.

‘Time for me to take control mate. But first while you have my dick in your mouth unzip yourself and take out that cock of yours with your other hand. Don’t let go of your hand that’s on my prick.’

Simons’ cock was almost stuck down the length of his trousers and only with difficulty was he able to push it up until it sprang out and let in spring into the vertical position.

‘You do have a good cock there boy and real 8 incher. Seeing that is just what I need to face fuck you. Now get that hand of yours working that nice big shaft of yours. Bet you have wanked often enough to know what to do.’

Saying that Phil took hold of Simon’s wavy hair and thrust the cock as deep as he could until Simon could feel the bristles of the pubes rubbing against his mouth.

‘Now you just take it while I do the movement and let it slide in and almost out of that gob of yours.’

Holding Simon. tightly Phil started to pummel his cock faster and faster, his breathing quickening with each forced push up to the hilt.

The ferocity of the way Phil was face fucking made Simon’s hand work faster and faster up his shaft. He was ready to explode.

‘I fucking cum first you little shit. Jesus I am cuming’

And with that and a loud groan he let spurt after spurt down Simon’s throat who thought he was going to choke with the amount which started to pour out from his mouth and down his chin. The taste of spunk and the feel of it coming out of his mouth was too much. Simon had never been as hard or as horny in his life and with one final thrust of his hand he exploded his cum between Phil’s legs.

As Phil let his cock out of Simon’s mouth he smiled

‘Better wipe that gob of yours otherwise you will be showing everyone what spunk you have. For a little virgin you learn quick faggot. This has clearly worked for the two of us and gets me to release my spunk instead of jacking off so we will make this a weekly meeting. Got it. And don’t be late or think you can avoid otherwise I will fucking thump you but I think you want it as much as I do.’

Simon met Phil each week behind the shed at school and while Phil bullied Simon in between he wanted each week to come so he could get his rocks off and feel his spunk in Simon’s throat. Meanwhile in spite of everything that Phil did to him he knew he was not just giving Phil pleasure but he own cock was getting all he wanted as well.

On the last day of term  Simon was being awarded The Best student at graduation. Hardly anyone congratulated him, knowing he was the best in the class. Phil looked sullenly at him knowing his marks made him bottom. Simon had applied to University and would off on his 3 year course in a few months after the summer vacation.

As all the kids came out of the graduation hall Phil came up behind Simon and whispered.

‘I want you behind the shed now you little brainy faggot. You may have got all the prize books but I have something a lot better to send you off with. Be there in 10 minutes.’

As Simon rounded the corner Phil stood legs apart smoking a ciggie and looking like thunder.

‘Get the fuck over here.’ This was a different Phil. A nasty Phil and the sight of him was terrifying Simon.

As Simon walked over Phil’s hands came out and shoved the prize books out of Simons hands.

‘Fucking clever clog eh. Fucking faggot got all the prizes, Fucking piece of shit going off to Uni. Suppose you are laughing your fucking head off at me as bottom of the class with no job to go to.’

‘I hadn’t thought like that at all.’

‘Oh yeah.’.

‘Now you can go off and be fucking mister know all with guys just as brainy as you.’

 And with that Phil grabbed hold of Simon and pushed to back against the wall face forwards shoving his face against the concrete wall.

‘That hurts’, Simon squealed

‘Of course it fucking hurts. What you deserve for being so fucking clever. Now raise your arms high.’

With Simon now pinned against the wall, Phil put his hands around Simon’s waist and undid his flies.

‘What are you doing.’

‘Don’t fucking ask. I do as I want, got it.’

Phil then pulled down the rousers and underpants to Simon’s knees so that he had no way of running off.

‘Time I gave you a going away present. A blow job ain’t good enough for you now. You need something to really remember me. Time that virgin arse of yours got a right good fucking from my cock.’

‘No please I cant’ take that prick of yours up me.’

‘You bloody well will and you will feel my spunk all the way up. Take that to Uni with you.’

Simon was terrified to move and knew with his trousers around his knees he had no where to run.

Phil unzipped his jeans, his cock already stiff knowing what he had planned to do and yanked it out.

‘I’ve been fucking wanting my dick inside that arse of yours for a while. Thought best to leave it till we go our separate ways so you have a bloody sore memory of me.’

Phil lets a couple of big gobs of spit drop onto his cock and rubbed them up and down the shaft.

‘Now stick that arse of yours right out. I ain’t playing around with that hole of yours. No foreplay just a good fuck’

As Simon pushed his arse out he suddenly felt the tip of Phil’s stiff cock press against his cheeks finding its way to the hole. His hole reacted immediately trying to close any entry. Phil pulled Simon’s cheeks apart so he could see exactly where his prick was going.

‘Don’t think that by squeezing that hole of yours is gonna stop me. Its’ just gonna make if more painful but if that’s what you want OK. Up to you, faggot.’

Simon knew he had to relax and as he did so, so Phil pushed his head into the hole causing Simon to let out a great sound of pain. Phil put his hand over Simon’s mouth and whispered 

‘You shut the fuck up. Take it like a man instead of being such a fucking wimp. Once I’ve fucked you that arse will be ready for any cock when you get to Uni. But it’s me who fucks you first.’

Still with his hand over Simon’s mouth , Phil put his other hand around Simon’s waist to grab as he started to let his shaft slip inside.

‘A great soft fucking hole you have there. Made to be fucked. Now stop any shouting got it,’

Simon grunted as Phil took his hand away and put his also around Simon;’ waist to allow him to push in and out. As he moved his hand into position he was suddenly aware that Simon’s had a ram rod boner.

‘Got a right boner there. I knew you wanted to be fucked. Seeing it’s the last time let me wank you as I fuck you eh?’

As Phil moved in and out and up and down Simon’s arse so Phil gripped Simon’s rod harder and slipped his hand up and down covering and uncovering Simon’s foreskin with its bright red head, precum oozing out

‘You won’t forget this fuck mate. Take my fucking cock all the way in that arse of yours, move in time with my dick, go on faster and faster. Get ready to take my spunk. I can feel that shaft of yours pulsating ready to burst.’

As Phil gave a final push into Simon’s arse he let out a deep groan and sank his teeth into Simons neck to stop his orgasmic noise. Simon’s head shot back letting out his own noise as he came in Phil’s hand the spunk shooting out against the shed wall.

Phil stood back and forced his still rigid cock down his jeans, looking at the mark he had left on Simon’s neck.

‘You will remember me for a while when that bruises up but most of all you will remember how I fucked your virgin arse. All that sticky cum of yours over the wall can just stay as a reminder of the day I fucked you. Now zip yourself up pick up your books and get the hell out of here. You won’t forget me.’

3 YEARS LATER

Simon returned home after graduating his Uni course with full honours. His parents were away for work for a year so he had the house to himself. Going out from time to time to get food etc he had seen a couple of his classmates, well hardly mates, and they acknowledged him but didn’t bother to ask what he was doing and how Uni has fared. ‘Stuff them ‘Simon said

A   couple of days later there was a ring at the front door and Simon thinking it could be the postman opened the door to see Phil standing in front of him. At first he hardly recognised his bully from school. The guy was now a full skinhead, shaved glistening head. The Doc martens had been replaced with high white laced Ranger boots and he had bleached denim jeans tight against his legs and even at a quick glance Simon had seen the outline of his cock down one side. Obviously still commando then. He wore a black Fred parry and a green A1 jacket. A black leather back pack completed his clothing. If he had looked the bully at school he now looked almost terrifying and not someone you would ever want to cross. Simon’s eyes were out on stalks.

So you are back then. Word gets around. Must say you have bulked out quite a bit. Obviously at the Uni gym. Suits you but all that fucking wavy hair and you are still the same faggot I remember.’

‘So are you not going to ask me in and gimme a beer?’

As he said this Simon started swiftly to close the front door but Phil anticipated and placed his Ranger boot firmly in place.

‘Now that’s not very friendly is it.’ As he said it he thrust the door open almost knocking Simon back against the wall.

Moving quickly in and kicking the door shut Phil took hold of Simon’s shirt and said. 

‘So lets’ go into the kitchen and get that beer. For your sake there had better be a couple in the fridge.’

Simon meekly obeyed his master and took out a beer opening it to hand to Phil. Gulping it down he said

‘I needed that. Right sit down. You and I have business to attend to.’

As Simon sat down there was no where for Simon to go.as Phil opened up the back pack and took out a length of rope.

‘Get your hands behind you over the back of the chair you pussy.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘You will soon find out.’

As Simon obeyed so Phil set the knots in place 

‘You are not gonna hurt me are you? I’ll suck you or whatever you want.’

‘Just shut the fuck up and you will soon see.’

Phil again dipped into the backpack and took out a professional hair razor.

‘Does this give you an idea?’

‘I think so.’

‘It’s time that mass of blond curls left your head. ‘

‘No, no please leave my hair.’

‘By the time I have finished you will have no hair. You will be just like me. Lovely fucking smooth head so flip your head and let me get started.’

Simon knew there was no way he could wriggle out of it and waited to hear the whirring sound of the razor. Within minutes he saw his blond locks fall onto the floor and he could feel so much more air around his head. He knew he was being scalped but was powerless. After several minutes Phil put the razor down and took another gulp of beer. He them took the shaving foam out of his kit and another razor to remove the bits left of Simon’s head. 

‘We want you nice and smooth no doubt there will be a few nicks but that will quickly go.. Coming on a treat now.’

He moved round to stand in front of Simon to admire his work. 

‘At least from the neck up you look like a skin.’

Simon was looking straight into Phil’s crotch and could see a rock hard cock stretching down one side of his bleachers.

Giving his bulging outline a rub Phil said

‘Jeez staring to make be horny. Now for the next bit. I am gonna untie you and then you get down on yer knees in front of me got it.? Don’t even think of doing anything other than I tell you.’

Simon sank top his knees in front of his master his bully.

‘Those nice Ranger boots of mine need a cleaning and I know from your cock sucking days that you have plenty of spit to clean them just as I want . Do the right one first. I want to make sure I can see my face in the toe cap right. Placing both hands on the ground Simon bent over the right boot and started to let his spit flow over the cap licking it and tasting the dirt in his mouth. He covered the cap with his spit.

‘Now let me see what you have done boy. ‘As Simon took his face back and Phil looked down.

‘That not what I call fucking clean you sad faggot.’ Placing his other foot on Simon’s head he forced him down so his lips were pressed against the leather.

‘Now fucking lick and clean got it. ‘

Simon could hardly get his spit out as he boot pressed down harder and harder but he knew he had to keep Phil happy.

‘Let me see now .’Phil barked ‘That’s better now get on and do the same to the other unless you want a fucking bruised lip.’

Simon licked and licked until he was pushed away.

‘Not a bad faggot are you. That’s it got a nice shine on them now.

So next I want you to take my  back pack into your bedroom and I will wait for you. So gimme me another beer while I wait here.’

Simon replied,

‘I have no more in the fridge but let me get you one for the utility room.’

‘Oh my the fucking utility room. Get you faggot. Well go on get and give me now.’

Simon returned with the opened beer and took the back pack.

Once in his bedroom he opened up and let the contents fall onto the bed. It was a complete skinhead gear like Phil’s. He wanted Simon to look like him to be his fellow skin and sub. Seeing all the gear spread out over the bed immediately had Simon’s cock reaching full length inside he jeans straining to get out. He decided not to look in the mirror until he had everything on. It took no time to strip all his clothes off by which time his throbbing cock was almost vertical the foreskin now pulled tightly back.

Apart from the Ranger boots which looked worn, all the clothes were new and obviously bought for Simon. He put on the tight bleachers inching them up his legs no longer the skinny legs of 3 years ago but know showing muscle from workouts which made pulling them up more difficult. The worst part was trying to press his throbbing cock down one leg which just bulged more and more inside a small stain of precum starting to seep through. Then the white socks and pulled them up as high as he could having noted how Phil wore them over the top of the rangers. The rangers had red laces and as it was the first time he had worn them it seemed to take ages to lace up.

‘Get a fucking move on boy’  he heard Phil shout.

Next the white Fred Perry which was a size too small and looked glues to his now bigger chest, his six pack showing through and the nipples he had been cultivating sticking out.

Finally the black A1 jacket and he was complete. Simon was trembling with excitement as he stood in front of the mirror to see his new identity.

Gone was the pretty college boy with wavy hair and student clothing. Gone was the bookish young man. Staring out from the mirror was a skinhead in full skin gear. His shaved head made him look rough, threatening and as Simon curled his lip he could see himself as an aggressor. His bulked up frame made him look tougher than Phil as he spread out his arms and placed them firmly on his hips. From the nearby drawer he pulled out his new toy, a stainless steel knuckleduster and fitted it to his hand. He stood with his legs apart and admired the way the bleachers clung to his muscular legs his bulging cock so rock hard and looking desperate to get out with the precum stain getting bigger by the minute. Shit was he horny.

All was quiet in the kitchen as Sion barged in.

Phil was slumped in the chair out cold

‘Just as I have planned for the last 3 years’ Simon grinned. ‘All I needed to do was show myself around town and I knew Phil would find out. Like a bloody bee to a honey pot. Now time to let him know who can be the boss, the Dom.’

Lifting Phil was no problem for Simon’s new physique as he flung Phil across the kitchen table. Taking the ropes that had been used on hime to be scalped he firmly tied Phils arms to two of the legs and then his legs to the other two. He was firmly under Simon;s control.

Time to bring you round mate and let the show begin. Using both hands Simon swiped Phil across the face several times the face showing red marks with the power of the slaps. Phil came to.

What the fuck is going on

What the fuck is going is that you are strapped to the table and aint going anywhere.

Untien me you fucking little faggot now

Looking at you now I aint any faggot. I call myself Si and at this moment you are totally under my control. You made me a skin and as you know skins take no prisoners. You are now my faggot.

Si lifted his right hand and brought it down sharply on Phils arse. 

Phil let out a shout of pain

‘Get your fucking hand off my arse’

‘Talking like that won’t do you any good in fact I think you deserve a couple of harder slaps.

Si hit again and again as Phil tried to wriggle, his screaming heightening.

‘Just let me go.’

‘Remember 3 years on the last day of school? You were so fucked off at me being the clever one that you said you were going to sort out my Virgin arse. Remember.’

As Si said this he brought his knucklduster hand round to Phils mouth. ‘Now I could really do you some harm  and perhaps I will because its time someone sorted out your Virgin arse. Bet you have never been fucked. You always said I had a good sized dick so now is the time to have it rammed all the way up that tight little arse of yours. And good that those bleachers of yours have a rear zip. Perhaps you have been hoping for a fuck.’

‘Don’t you even think of fucking me.’

‘I’m not thinking about it I am gonna fuck you good and proper and you will feel my balls being drained of all the spunk I have been saving up for you. My cock is rock hard and seeing those nice red cheeks of yours peeping out of the bleachers has made me fucking horny. I’ve done 3 years of martial arts and any attempt to push me around I can break your fucking neck so shut the fuck up.’

Si stood back and plunged his hand into his tight bleachers and wrestled to get his boner out. He could feel the precum still seeping out of the hole. He needed to make that precum full of spunk

Si walked round to the front of the table so Phil could see the fully erect cock.

‘Remember that dick of mine now.’

‘You fucking bastard’ Phil replied and spat out, Si collecting the spit and rubbing it onto his shaft.

‘That was a good idea. Now you can have your own spit up your arse.’

Si returned to the arse end of the table and put both hands on Phils cheeks.

‘Remember you told me to breathe as you started to sink that cock of yours in. Well I’m telling you to breathe carefully as I have a bigger dick and just make sure that hole of yours relaxes cause it will only be more painful for you. Maybe you have been dreaming of my cock all these 3 years.’

Si lined his prick to the juicy hole opening and started to slip the thick head into the hole.

‘Fucking hell I can’t take it, you are too big for my hole..’

‘Relax you faggot. You are going to take every last drop of my spunk.’

Si pushed his moist head into the waiting hole

‘Shiiiit its too big for me.’

‘You didn’t worry about it when you fucked my virgin arse did you. Stop being a little boy and act like a man a tough skinhead and take my hard knob all the way up that juicy arse of yours. I’ll pause for a minute for you to get your breath back, more than you did for me but get ready for the full shaft to slide up you.’

‘I cant’, I can’t.’

‘Yes you fucking can and will.’ 

With that Si slid his throbbing shaft in and in until it was the full way up, Phil scarcely able to breathe. Finally Phil could feel Si’s pubes up against his bum.

‘There you are its all the way up you. A nice virgin arse is no longer and its’ your little faggot that is going to fuck the life of you.’

Si stated to slowly slid the cock in and out almost taking it to when the head was on the edge then would thrust it in as hard as he could.

At first Phil squealed and then started to relax and as he did so Si put his hands around the front of Phil’s bleachers and felt his crotch.

‘For someone who reckons he is such a top and butch and never been fucked that knob of your’s is as hard as mine. So maybe you like being fucked after all maybe me dressed as a skin is making you nice and horny. Looking at you in your full skinhead gear with the arse zip open and me guiding my dick up in full gear is a fucking turn on for me. The more I am sliding in the more I can feel that arse of yours inside wetter and wetter. You are fucking loving this, admit it.’

‘Jesus its amazing.’

‘And its me who has taken your virginity. Think about that with your hard dick straining inside those bleachers. Now let’s get some spunk into you. Raise that arse of yours so I feel my cock going the full way in . take every inch of my fat dick and wait for me to explode insider you.’

Si gripped Phils arse cheeks even tighter and thrust his cock in and out with increasing rapidity.

‘Take all my spunk my little faggot.’

‘Christ fuck me let me have it .’Phil shouted.

I’m cummin let your skin sub show you he’s more of a man than you just now.’

And with that Si felt the spunk leave his balls and flow into his shaft and erupt up Phils arse.

‘Fucking hell take it all .’

‘Jesus,’ shouted Phil, ‘I’ve just cum in my bleachers what a fucking mess.’

Si withdrew his cock with cum starting to ooze out of Phils bum and drip onto the floor.. As he stood with his cock still stiff he undid the ropes tying Phil to the table.

Phil stood up and turned to Si, grabbing him and letting his tongue down Si’s mouth.

‘That was fucking amazing. To have my virgin arse fucked by you is the best. From the first time I had you give me a blow job behind the shed I wanted you and not just as my faggot as I kept telling you. I had to act that way but I wanted you so much and that fuck was the best ever. I hated you going away for 3 years and if you only knew the number of times I wanked myself thinking of that fuck.’

Si smiled. ‘I kept tabs on you all the time and knew you had become a skinhead. It was what I wanted most of all but I wanted you to be the one to make me like you. I had to have my revenge but I also have only wanted you since that first time.’

‘Christ’ Phil said ‘have we wasted 3 years?’

‘No we needed that time to get to where we are now. I’m back in town because of you and I will stay if you want that.’

Phil grabbed Si’s cock and said ‘Of course I fucking want that.’

Si replied ‘I suggest you get out of those spunk stained bleachers and get into the shower. I will be straight in behind you and we will see who does what to each other.’

‘I will be waiting’ Phil grinned.

[trashywhiteboysea]

hot AF

Credit: BriansKunst

[trashywhiteboysea]

“One last time, bro. Make it a deep one.” You nod, barely coherent as you shift about on your firm rear against the sweat-dampened futon and pull the final drag. Your chest bursts out of your button up, the tattered remains falling onto the ground before dissipating into a fine ash. The smoke bellows up your throat in a sensation not unlike drowning, before it starts to fill your head. Your jawline crackles loudly, widening and sharpening as if freshly chiseled from marble. Your lips swell against Robbie’s slick fingers, sitting comfortably atop your pearly white and gold teeth. Your brows fall low and thicken, a slit forming at their edges as your hair falls out in clumps; replaced quickly by a slicked back sweaty fade.

I started a new job recently, and that means that my new day-to-day dress code is business professional. It's so stuffy, restrictive, and, honestly, sweaty to be in slacks and a button up all week long. I'd really love to get some help relaxing and loosening up when I'm not at work.

You’re sitting at your desk, the sound of the old clock on the corner wall ticking away at a snail’s pace. You swear your boss intentionally bought a defective one just for plausible deniability- work never seemed to end! This gig was supposed to be a normal 9-5, but you fell into the trap most ambitious young folks do. When Mr. Garretty offered you a promotion, only a year after starting with the company, salary sounded like the best thing that could have happened to you! More money in your pocket, consistent pay, it’s so much easier for budgeting! Of course, you’d come to find out that 9-5 quickly turned to 8 to 9, 9 to 10, 7 to midnight… all for the same rate of pay. That exhaustion, coupled with the cost cutting measure of keeping the office at a brisk 79 degrees had you existing as little more than a semiconscious zombie for the corporation. The daily grind became your existence, that is until Garretty hired Robbie as the new office temp.

He strut in through the door that blistering July day well past noon, immediately making his presence known. Just in the way he dressed, he demanded attention. The tight black polo, the Cuban heeled boots giving his 5’10 stature another couple inches, tattoos sprawling across his smooth skin, but it was the bloodshot blue eyes that really tips you off to his true nature. The gentle waft of his musk as he walked by your desk tickles the hairs of your nose, your head mindlessly turning to follow him. Evidently, this is enough for Robbie to catch sight of your satisfied expression, your eyes meeting for merely seconds before he saunters into Garretty’s office for his ass reaming about being late on day one.

The week slinks by as usual- slow and long. You’re thankful, however, for Robbie’s presence in the office. His laid back, carefree attitude was such a comfort amongst the silent sea of workaholics nose deep in their computer screens. There is just something about the way he acts as if he owns the place- entirely indifferent about what people think, what punishment Garretty lops his way, he is consistently in a world of his own; and you want so desperately to be a part of it. In fact, so lost in fantasy are you that you barely notice when the clock strikes 6, and you start to lumber your way to the bathrooms. You aren’t prepared for the sight that greets you as you clear the door.

Robbie stands there in the far end of the bathroom in a way you’ve never seen him before. It’s always fascinating to see what your coworkers look like outside of the office, but this was far from the norm for you. He turns his head, the heavy cloud of mist flowing from his lips as he slips his vape into the pocket of his weathered jeans. His eyes are that familiar red, and his smile as dumb and easy as ever.

“Sup, bro! You gettin the fuck outta here?” He coughs a bit, tiny wisps of vapor still emanating from his lungs. You nod quietly, trying to hide the obvious blush on your cheeks. “Yeah this place is total bullshit. I’m just doing it to make the old man happy. You feel?” You smile at him, nodding yet again, praying that he’ll head out of the room, leaving you alone to fantasize about him. Fortunately for you, he smirks, and strides over to you. “Bruh,” his arm slides around your neck, resting gently on your shoulder, “I see you working your ass off all the fuckin’ time. Wanna come chill at my place? I’ll roll ya a good j if you’re down?”

The touch of smooth leather from his jacket sends goosebumps down your arms, and you find yourself nodding mindlessly- your body giving you the extra push to spend some time with Robbie. He smirks and ruffles your coiffured hair, leading you out of the bathroom, down the elevator, and into the parking garage. You hop into his souped up Supra, a gleaming cobalt blue paint job showing just fastidiously cared for it is. You hop in the front seat, realizing the car reeks of cannabis and ash; which in all truth, you consider to be ample preparation for smoking with him.

The car ride is quick, Robbie lives downtown in a fairly nice little studio apartment in a highrise not far from the office. He explains it away in the elevator as a bribe from his family to ‘grow up’ and take his life seriously at the ripe old age of 23. You reminisce about the similar push out of the house you had received when you graduated. Believing it to be a good thing, you express gratitude for your parents doing so. Robbie seems to disagree as the elevator doors open and he scoffs dismissively.

“Take it easy, bruh. We ain’t around Garretty here, you don’t have to play the goody two shoes.” He claps his hand onto your back, gently pushing you out of the elevator, and down the hall to his apartment. It is smartly appointed and clearly came furnished; the pristine leather furniture looked nearly unused, aside from the old futon right next to the balcony door. Robbie’s grinder and ashtray sit on the floor in front of it- you realize the reality of you being in your work crush’s home, about to smoke weed with him. This is something you haven’t done in years, so there is a small pit in your stomach as you take your loafers off and plop down onto the futon.

Rolling the joint takes all of 30 seconds for Robbie, as he slips it between his lips and ignites it. He turns to you, smirking as he lets out a thick cloud of smoke. You close your eyes and let the smoke cascade across your face as you hear him chuckling to himself with the vapid brainlessness of a well trained stoner. Opening your eyes, you see him leaning over you before quickly pressing the joint onto your lips. You take a deep inhale, feeling your chest swell with warmth and earthy flavor.

“Hold it, keep in for a sec.” You do as you’re told, feeling the warmth spread from your chest to your feet, your head becoming heavy and hazy. Robbie looks down with a knowing smile as your feet start to tingle. He watches gleefully as they start to inflate longer and wider, your arches growing high and your toes stretching long. You hiccup, feeling the smoke settle deep in your calves as they bubble with growth and take on a deep tan. “Hey bro, get comfy, dude. Take the slacks off, no judgement here.” He smirks as you do as you’re told- his sweaty fingers still shellacked onto your lips as you unintentionally inhale once more, your thighs ballooning out and tattoos rising to the surface of your skin. By the time your khakis are tossed to the side, you’re too high to even realize your legs are entirely unrecognizable.

“Atta boy just keep breathing it in.” Your groin stirs at Robbie’s continuous touch as your underwear starting to grow tighter and tighter. A thick bulge expands, patches of damp sweat spread from your swelling balls and allowing your virile funk to emanate from the musky fabric. “Nice n thick, bro. I’m liking what I’m seeing!” A low groan escapes your throat before you take another breath, another thick torrent of smoke flowing deep into your core.

Your midsection cracks, abs burst like popcorn beneath the skin of your lean torso. The tanning spreads further up, coating you in a wash of bronze. Your pecs billow outward as your shoulders widen, ink sprawling down your firm, hard earned biceps and forearms. Wiry hairs sprout in your pits as your muscles continue to inflate with cannabis infused mass, enough to where you have no idea where you begin and the smoke ends. A gentle musk starts to waft out of your moist caverns, feeling the familiar drops of sweat roll down your obliques. The joint is nearly spent, and Robbie brings his face close to your pierced ear and whispers softly.

“One last time, bro. Make it a deep one.” You nod, barely coherent as you shift about on your firm rear against the sweat-dampened futon and pull the final drag. Your chest bursts out of your button up, the tattered remains falling onto the ground before dissipating into a fine ash. The smoke bellows up your throat in a sensation not unlike drowning, before it starts to fill your head. Your jawline crackles loudly, widening and sharpening as if freshly chiseled from marble. Your lips swell against Robbie’s slick fingers, sitting comfortably atop your pearly white and gold teeth. Your brows fall low and thicken, a slit forming at their edges as your hair falls out in clumps; replaced quickly by a slicked back sweaty fade.

Eyes reddened and irises browned, Robbie pulls the joint from your face and you finally exhale. The cloud that escapes your lips flows like water into the living room air. More and more, you feel your nerves, your worries, your anxieties and expectations expel from your body. Robbie chuckles as the last tendrils of it slither out of you, knowing fully well that the guy he knew from that shitty office gig was expelled with all those fumes. You lean back, putting your muscles arms behind your head, and allow the high to take you to new heights.

———

“Hello! You have reached the voicemail box of… Dwayne Garretty. Please leave your message after the tone.”

“Yo, Garretty. It’s Robbie. Sorry bro but I just don’t think this gig is working out for me, so I’m out aight? Oh, and I’m takin my bro outta there too, man. You wanna say somethin’ Leo?”

“Fuck yeah I do, suck my dick, puta. I quit.”

The two of you snicker and laugh as you hang up the phone. You pull the lighter out of your shorts pocket and reignite the spliff between your lips, quickly passing it to your best bro. Grabbing the basketball from your bag, you hit the court, freshly smoked out and ready to take it easy.

[trashywhiteboysea]

[trashywhiteboysea]

just like I like my lads....

Scally! 👟🧦🧢