I was so excited to spend a week alone in the city.
For my recent eighteenth birthday, my parents agreed to give me a week and let me explore the nearby city and check out the university I had been longing to attend every since I was little. My favorite cousin, who was a few years older, volunteered to give me a tour on the first day I was there, and the rest of the time was mine to spend on my own. I was so excited, I almost jumped out of my seat when I drove out of my driveway Sunday night.
My cousin and I were best friends from almost as early as I could remember. The two of us were inseparable, and decided when we were older to be partnering doctors. After a few years passed, my cousin flew right out of high school into my dream college. Now a few years later, I was on the same path. Both of us had 4.0’s going into senior year, and I know I could last a little longer.
I was so excited to spend a day with my cousin, but also a week alone. My parents had promised that they would leave me alone and that there wouldn’t be any check-ins or “unplanned” surprises. I was always set on a straight path towards becoming a doctor, so I was usually by myself, nose-deep in my studies. I never really had time to make friends or find a girlfriend. I was also fairly average physically, so no one really put in the effort to talk to me unless they wanted to get an A on some group project. Sure, I was lonely every now and then, but it could have been worse. I always was better on my own or with my cousin.
Monday was amazing. My cousin showed me every stadium, classroom, study area… anything the university had to offer. We ate out, chatted about school, and she introduced me to her friends. When the day was over, I was exhausted. I jumped on my hotel bed and immediately fell asleep.
The next morning, I explored the city’s restaurants, stores, and parks. Lucky for me, there were plenty of great sales and deals only available on that day. Who knew Tuesdays could be special? As I strolled along a path near the downtown area, I realized I had missed something on my tour yesterday at the university. I hadn’t seen any dorms while I was there! I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket, but realized I shouldn’t text her. It was barely past noon, so I didn’t want to interrupt one of her classes. I thought about what I could do for a moment, and decided I could just find a dorm myself. I ran to a bus stop and jumped on the first ride to the university.
I hopped of the bus and walked to the first dorm I saw: Richardson Hall. Richardson Hall was one of the older buildings on campus, but it was only evident through the slightly faded look on its brown bricks. It was surrounded by oak trees and plenty of students studying and working together on assignments. The building was the only one on campus that hosted students of all ages, but for only males. As I walked closer, I noticed how truly massive it was. It only had five floors, but it looked more like ten as I got closer. I got near the doors and pulled out and fiddled around on my phone, casually waiting for a group of students. I didn’t have a keycard to enter the building, so my great plan was to blend into a group when they entered. I looked at my home screen for a while, which adorned a picture of me and my cousin at a mall. After a few minutes, a group of male students came strolling down the path. As they came up the steps, I quickly added myself in between them and was let inside.
Richardson Hall wasn’t anything special on the inside. Besides it strangely ornate main stairwell, it looked like a normal dorm. I walked around for a bit on the different floors, looking into different people dorms as I strolled by. One of the perks of looking ordinary is that you can drift by without anyone taking too much notice. After about an hour of just hanging around the dorm, I decided it was time to head back to the hotel. As I walked back to the stairwell, I noticed something peculiar. There was a small sign with the words, “LAUNDRY ROOM” in huge letters, and with it a small arrow pointing up. For some reason, I found this amusing. I was on the fourth floor, so that meant that the room was on the top floor. I’d never hear of a laundry room not in the basement, so for some reason I felt like I had to see this.
Once I got to the top of the stairs, I followed the signs that led me down an old hallway. At the end there was an old brown door that was just barely open. I opened it and was surprised to see a second door. This door was white, with a glass looking into the room. I would’ve just looked through the window and left, but it was made with the kind of glass that was more of a faded white than clear. I slowly pushed the door open and entered.
The laundry room was really nothing special. The room wasn’t too big, and it seemed even smaller due to the amount of washing machines and dryers. There was a skylight above me, flooding sunlight into the room and providing a little natural heat. After I saw the cheap flooring and the soft-colored walls, I decided the room wasn’t as fun as I thought it might be. The only strange thing about it was the smell, or, lack of. I was expecting to be blasted with some sort of detergent-soapy aroma, but instead it was quite stale.
As I inspected the room, I noticed there were two others in the room. They were whispering to each other, but I don’t think they had noticed my presence. The first thing I noticed about them was that they were built. Both of them were stacked with muscle, and they didn’t try to hide it much either. Their clothes were a little more revealing than I was comfortable with. One was carrying a sports-related bag, while the other was putting laundry in the dryer. They were probably some cocky football jocks or some stereotype to that.
The one said something to the other one with the bag, nodding and smirking, and then patting him on the back. The one with the bag began walking towards me, seeing me for the first time. He wore a tight, light and dark gray striped tee shirt and a pair of too-skinny skinny jeans. His short, dirty-blond hair brought out is kind smile as he walked closer to me, his large fleet clomping.
“See ya, Mark!” he said, his cologne wafting past me as he stomped by. By the way he walked, he was definitely confident with himself. His stride was so powerful that I felt a small breeze ruffle my shorts when he walked past. “Mall in two hours, bro!”
“Sounds good, Easton!” Mark said, still at the laundry machine. I heard Easton walk out and shut the first door behind him quietly.
“Hey, bro,” Mark said, walking forward to me, “I’m Mark.” He extended a meaty paw towards me. “Oh, hi,” I said, looking over him and extending a hand, “I’m John.” I winced a little as we shook hands. I had underestimated how strong he was. His whole body was covered in a tan that showed hours spent in the sun. I started at his chest, because sadly that was eye-level. Mark was wearing a university tee that was at least a size too small. His biceps and pecs were nearly bursting, but his jean shorts were somehow even tighter. The jean shorts barely covered half of his muscled, hairy thighs, and it was obvious by his pronounced bulge that he wasn’t packing light. After drifting my eyes past his hairy calves, I saw his huge feet, which were covered by a pair of old athletic socks and some very worn-down Nike’s. Their bright red color hadn’t survived very long, and it was now faded under a soft layer of dirt. I craned my neck past another pronounced bulge, now in his neck, and looked more closely at his face for the first time. He had a very masculine and sharp jaw, and his hair was messily styled in a way that worked with the whole “football jock” look. The last thing I noticed was his beard, which I was immediately jealous of. A beard like that was hard to grow, and it probably showed more pride than his own pride, if you get what I’m going for.
The whole time I was looking him over, he was inspecting me to.
“You’re not a student, are ya, bro?”
“No, I’m just touring,” I said, a little neglected.
“Well, this is great school! We have some of the best sports around the nation… and best professors,” he quickly added, remembering who he was talking too.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied, already knowing both.
“Well, I gotta head out, but it was nice meeting ya, bro!” Mark smiled and patted my shoulder as he walked past me. I heard him walk over to the door and grab the handle. Mark fiddled with it for a second and groaned. He grabbed it again, a little more vigorously and a little less patiently, and tried to open it, but to no use. I turned to see Mark looking at me; he was angry over something.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, sighing, “my bro, Easton, he accidentally locked the door.”
I stood there, puzzled, “How?”
“The first door is always supposed to be left open because it locks on its own. That doofus closed it.” Mark took a deep breath, but he was obviously pissed. “Ya got your phone on you?” “Yeah one…” I began, but as I reached down into my pocket, my hand felt nothing. I tried again, but it was still empty. I reached into another pocket, and still came out with nothing. After about a minute of searching, Mark stopped me.
“So ya don’t got your phone, and mine’s charging in my room. Great.” Mark walked past and sat down, resting his back on a washing machine. I walked around to where he was sitting, placing myself opposite of him.
“Is there anything we can do?” I asked, sounding ignorant.
“Not really,” Mark replied, “Janitors only come up here on Saturdays, but Easton will probably know I’m missing so hopefully we won’t have to stay too long.” We sat there in silence for a little bit, but then started to talk to keep each other company. I got to learn a ton about Mark. He had always been into sports, especially football, but once he got to college he put his major before sports. According to him, he was luckily convinced by the school’s head coach, Coach Sorenson to continue football and join the team. At first, Mark was reluctant, but as soon as he joined he knew it was the right choice. Mark also talked about the lack of numbers on the team, and how he had an idea to get them back up. He had pitched the idea to Coach Sorenson, and it was so good that he offered Mark a job after he graduated next year as Assistant Coach. Mark agreed and immediately changed his major from Business to Physical Education.
“Bro, I was so nervous about switching, I mean, I’m one of dumbest people I know.” Mark chuckled at his own joke. It was a slow, emptier laugh.
“At least I’m not as stupid as Easton, though!” Mark added. We both laughed at that real hard. We sat there for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, before Mark spoke again.
“Hey, bro, would ya be alright if I take of some of my clothes?” Mark asked. During the whole conversation, I hadn’t even noticed the heat. The room was boiling. There was no air conditioning, and skylight was still shining light into the room, making it much hotter than comfortable.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, removing my own sweater. I now noticed the sweat stains scattered along my shirt. Mark carefully removed his own shirt, carefully. It was soaked through with sweat and stuck to his chest like another skin. As he pulled it off, I got a full look of his torso. I was a little jealous before, but now I was bursting with envy. His chest was perfectly defined; it was what every man wanted but couldn’t have. It was hairless, unlike the rest of his body, but you could see every ab and muscle. I was definitely straight, but this truly tested my sexaulity.
The whole time I was gawking at his chest, I didn’t notice him toss his shoes and socks next to me. The smell of his feet instantly filled the hot and stale room, making it so steaming that it brought me out of my trance.
“Size 15,” he proudly stated, smirking, ”biggest on the team.”
I looked at his huge feet, and then at his huge shoes. They reeked so much that it was making me a little dizzy. Then, I noticed another scent begin to fill the room, and for some reason it was familiar. I tried to find the source, and Mark took notice of me immediately.
“Oh, that?” he asked, his smirk grew a little wider as his tone became a little more menacing, “that’s the smell of my cologne: Heir.”
Mark took a little bottle out of his pocket with the word “HEIR” written in big, messy letters. He then put the bottle away and casually lifted both of his arms placed them behind his head. He fully exposed his armpits to me, which were filled jungles of wiry hairs. All the hairs that should’ve been on his chest were obviously there. I then realized why the scent was familiar; I had smelt it on Easton as he left.
“Remember the idea I had talked about earlier, bro?” Mark smiled as he scooted towards me. The scent of his shoes and cologne were making it hard to concentrate.
“When I was taking my Business major, right before I switched to Physical Education, I took a class on funding. An assignment was to fund a new and upcoming company. I stumbled upon a tiny company that made personalized scents located a few miles from here. I brought an idea to Coach about making some colognes, and he approved of it. See, together we made a cologne for all the football jocks to wear, that way we could recruit new players.”
I tried to understand what he was saying, but the two scents were blinding my other senses from working properly. Mark scooted again so he could sit next to me. He slowly took my head and placed it on his crotch with my facing up. He then brought one of his armpits down to my face and uttered a simple command.
“Sniff.”
In my state of confusion, I immediately complied. I began to sniff, at first tentatively, but after a while more confidently. After sniffing his armpit for a little bit, I began to moan as the effects of the cologne set in.
It started with my height. My legs and torso began to stretch to each new breath I took. I felt new muscles tense and release as I got to a height a little over 6’2”, which was a little under Mark’s 6’4”. The next thing I felt was my chest begin to expand. Each new breath made my torso rise a little more. Hard pectorals began to slowly develop, pushing their way into the open. A cobblestone path began to appear as my non-existent abs began to form from thin air. Next were my legs. I groaned a little as my quads began to tense into solid muscle, perfect for the running I’d be doing every day. As soon as my thighs were done pumping up, my calves followed. My calves became meatier, with solid muscle adding itself on top of more muscle. I felt my butt plump up a little too, becoming bubblier.
My arms followed quickly after. Years and years of training kicked into my arms to make them better for throwing and tackling. My biceps and triceps inflated like little balloons, and my hand beefed up to make it easier to catch the ball and high-five my bros. As soon as my hands were done swelling, my feet kicked into gear. My feet, which were already pushed away due to my new legs, began to expand. I could feel my toes slowly move farther and farther towards the ceiling from the floor, until they themselves plumped up. New veins appeared over my feet, giving them a truly masculine look.
“Size 14,” Mark said, admiring my feet as I continued smelling his armpit, “good for you.”
For some reason, it felt good to know that Mark was happy with me. I kept sniffing and felt my neck expand. My moans began to grow deeper and emptier; my voice sounding dumber with each new breath. By the time my neck was finished transforming, my voice sounded almost identical to Mark’s and Easton’s; a now truly sounded like a football jock. My neck was followed up by my head. I quickly dug my head deeper into the dense forest that was Mark’s armpit, trying to help progress the change. My head began to stretch longer. I felt my cheekbones move up and my chin push down, causing my cheeks to suck themselves in. My hair began to turn blond, cutting the sides and growing out on top. As soon as it stopped growing, it coiffed itself up. My nose shrank a little and my lips grew a little wider, and my eyes tooks on an vacant shade of blue.
“Here comes the best part, bro,” Mark said anxiously, pushing me even deeper into his armpit, “this is where the name comes from.”
I sniffed passionately, wanting whatever Mark was so eager about. Suddenly, I began to feel rather itchy across my entire body. I tried to squirm, but I realized that smelling Mark’s armpit was more important. As I gave my full attention to sniffing, I realized I had hair growing all over my body. Blond hairs were heavily covering my legs, arms, butt… there was hair everywhere. There was hair on the tops of my feet, a new bush in my pouch, and my armpits looked like a blond version of Mark’s. The only place where there was an absence of hair was my chest. Once the hair stopped growing, I began to produce my own, pungent body odor. It was then I realized what Mark meant. The cologne was named Heir, but everytime he had pronounced it as “Hair.”
Mark then lifted me out of his armpit and turned me around to face him. I was still a little dazed, but I was coming back to my own consciousness.
“The cologne isn’t the only thing the company makes.” Mark reached past me and grabbed one of his shoes, he pulled out a faded, slightly wet shoe sole. “They also make scented shoe soles.” I was still confused, the smells hadn’t worn off.
He explained further, “The cologne does the physical work, but we have to make sure ya also become a team player mentally. These were a little harder to afford, and they come with some side effects, but bro, it’ll make ya into what you’re supposed to be.”
“Wha… side effects?” I was finally coming back, my head starting working as thoughts came back. I began to realize the danger I had been in all along.
“Oh, nothing,” Mark grinned, bringing the huge boat to my face, “let’s just say that you’ll truly be a bro. You’re gonna be as bright as Easton and have the libido of frat president.”
Mark shoved my head into his shoe, and right as I came out of my state of confusion, I was shoved back in. I began to sniff again, feeling my mind replace itself. Memories of my family and high school began to disappear. My loneliness was replaced with tons of friends, girlfriends, and secret relationships with other bros. My new family was more athletic, with my parents both being high school coaches. Memories of being alone with my cousin were now replaced with drunken homecoming bashes and late night bangs. As I sniffed Mark’s shoe, I realized this was all true. I had always dedicated myself to sports, and if I had always dedicated myself to sports, that means I would’ve had no time for an education. All my intellectual thoughts and ideas began to flow down through my system, all the way down into my pouch. My balls began to expand, churning my own intellect into pure, jock testosterone. They got bigger and bigger, slowly reaching the size of two tennis balls. My 4.0’s slowly became B’s, which dragged into C’s, and in turn dragged into barely even graduating. I remembered the only reason I had gotten into college was a football scholarship.
Memories of college began to flow in as well. For some reason, I’d thought I was touring as a future student, but I remembered that I was already a student here. I was in my third year of my Exercise Science major to become a physical trainer. I remembered the countless parties that had been hosted at my frat, the multiple professors I’ve had “extra-credit seminars” with, and when my main bros Mark and Easton helped me discover I wasn’t actually straight. After that, we shared so many brojobs and “study-halls” together. I remembered the countless games my football team had won, and how good I felt whenever I could please my coach, Coach Sorenson, or my broski Mark. Sure, I was very close to dropping out of college, but I remembered that as long as I did what Coach Sorenson told me, I would graduate.
Mark began whispering commands to me, edging me on to a spectacular release. He told me how it had always been this way, how I always had this perfect life, how all I needed to do was smell the shoe and release. I kept getting closer, feeling my average member get longer and longer until it reached a permanent eight inches, just barely shorter than Mark’s. Mark kept whispering into my ear and told me to take a deep breath and hold it. I followed his instructions, taking one more huge breath and sealing my IQ at an eternal 89. Then he whispered one last time in my ear.
“Just do it.”
I did exactly that. Streams of white erupted and spread all over my chest, Mark’s chest, and the pile of ripped clothes around me. My old memories were now gone forever. I was still John, but now as a hot, popular jock who would do anything for his Coach and bros. Now, thanks to Mark, I’ve learned who I truly am. I’m about as bright as best bro Easton and have the libido of frat president, and that’s what I’ve always wanted.
As soon as I snapped back to reality, Mark explained to me that we were just doing laundry and got bored, so he decided to give me a good ‘ole brojob. When I noticed I was naked, I asked where my clothes were.
“In the laundry, bro,” Mark guffawed, “we were doing laundry, remember? Why else would we be in here?”
I gave a dumb, hearty laugh back. He opened a dryer and tossed me a pair of gray sweatpants. I brought them to my nose and took a sniff. Mark, Easton, and I never actually use washing machines, we just throw our dirty clothes into the dryer to amplify the smell of our dirty clothes. If people complained, we’d just apply the football team’s awesome cologne: Heir. I pulled up the sweatpants while Mark put back on his socks and shoes. He pulled his shirt over his head, which now stunk of sweat and cum. We began to walk towards the doors, and suddenly, we both heard a click as the first door swung open. There stood Easton, smiling a dumb grin as he came in.
“Hey broskis!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “You meatheads left your phones in the frat house.”
Easton searched through his bag, handing Mark back his phone before grabbing mine. After getting my phone, I leaned up against a counter and checked looked at my home screen, which was a picture of Easton, Mark, and I at the beach in our speedos.
As I searched my phone, I overheard Mark and Easton talking.
“Has he passed the final test?” Easton whispered.
“Not yet, but I think he’ll pass,” Mark replied back confidently before strolling over to me.
“Hey, John,” Mark said, coming close to me. I could smell him. “Are you missing anything?”
“Uh,” I paused, my empty voice rumbling, “my jock?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I was going for, bro. Commando doesn’t count.” Mark came over and grabbed my accentuated pouch. I loved when he did that. Then I figured out the answer.
“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my bros!”
“Bingo!” Mark said, nodding to Easton.
“Hey bro!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “Where’s your shirt?”
“He was too dumb to notice he was missing it!” Mark laughed, and Easton and I quickly joined in. How could I have been so dumb to forget a shirt?
Easton pulled out a blue sleeveless shirt with the Nike symbol out of his sports bag. I smelled it, and realized it was used. Just how I liked it. He also handed me a pair secondhand of black and gray Nike trainers. I investigated the shoes, looking right at the special soles before I put the shoes on. They looked huge, but fit my feet perfectly.
“I can be so dumb sometimes, bro.” I laughed at myself as I put on my clothes. “Such a meathead.”
“That mean’s your keeping what’s important in mind,” Mark added before also reaching into Easton’s bag. He pulled out a small bottle with a label. I raised my arms, showing off my pits, and Mark sprayed a hefty amount of cologne into the dense hairs. He put the Heir bottle back into Easton’s bag.
“Let’s go, bros!” Mark said, leaving the laundry room, “Don’t want to be late for practice!”
In the darkness of his study a shadowed figure sits in the glow of his screen and favorite beverage. Above him shows a red camo print mustang racing through obstacles, the driver hyper focused. “Sir?” A voice asks stepping in from the doorway. “He’s the one,” was the only response. “Find him, bring him to me.”
Diego Higa sat in his Mustang waiting for the light to change. A black suburban pulls around to come beside him. Diego looks over unable to see through the tinted windows. Nervous he grips his steering wheel. The light changes and both vehicles proceed forward, Diego accelerates more to gain distance from the black SUV. Thinking he’d gotten a safe distance away he’s about to slow down when red and blue lights flash behind him. Cursing in Spanish he pulls over to the side as the black SUV passes by. The cop walks up and before Diego can speak reaches inside tazing the young man knocking him out cold.
Diego woke up hours later to ropes binding him to a chair. Cursing in Spanish and fighting against his binds he doesn’t hear the footsteps of someone walking up. Speaking in Spanish the man approaches, “hello Diego, I’ve come to offer you a proposition.” Diego looked up at him with a snarl on his face. “I don’t bargain with someone who kidnaps me.” The man smiles and blows smoke into his face. “You haven’t heard my deal yet. I want you to be a wheelman for me. You’ll get paid very well.”
Diego was floored. Did this guy really think he would stoop to something so low? “Pass,” he said confidently. The man smiled, “I knew you’d say that.” He reaches out giving Diego’s leg a squeeze. “You’re twenty-one? Is that right? Very young and very talented. Is that why they call you the baby-faced assassin?” He grabs hold of Diego’s face examining it. “You are cute, but still very cocky.” Diego just glares and daring the man to try something. “Don’t worry Diego,” he said blowing another cloud of smoke in his face. Diego inhales and begins to cough the man using the distraction to jab something into his leg.
“Youch! What the hell! Are you drugging me?” Diego growled fighting more against his restraints. “I’m making you more compliant and less likely to be recognized.” As he finishes saying that the spot where the needle had been begins to burn. Diego groans uncomfortably as it starts spreading down his legs and into his feet. The man grabs a chair and sits down to watch. The pain gets worse for Diego as his skin feels on fire. His naturally tanned skin lightens in tone. His leg muscles spasm and he experiences hundreds of leg cramps as the muscle expands and swells underneath his skin.
“Not so pleasant is it? Don’t worry it gets worse.” The pain radiates up his thigh as his eyes start to water. The muscles are growing in his thighs, it reaches his groin and he screams out as he feels it the burning spread to his testicles. They swell and immediately flood his body with testosterone. His abs become more defined, his chest pushes out underneath his shirts. The man smiles watching as the shirt shrinks underneath his growing form. A wet spot forms from his growing rod as pre leaks out. “Almost there.” Diego groans as his arms grow longer and beefier. His skin changing to barely tan. “Looking good,” Diego then realizes that the man is now speaking to him in English.
“What are you doing to me?” He asks through gritted teeth. Veins start popping in his neck, his voice growing deeper as if he is going through a second puberty. “Stop!” he screams as his face burns. He closes his eyes, tears pouring out as his face changes. The baby-face starts to melt giving him a more mature appearance. Face hair and a more predominant jaw line. His hair shortens leaving him with a buzz cut. The burning subsides and he sits there panting. He looks up angry and defiant as the man approaches. “Don’t like your new body?”
“Change me back,” he growls the restraints straining to hold him as he flexes his muscles. The man gets close in his face asking, “are you really sure you want to do this? Do you really want to fight me?” Diego rears back and smacks his head against the man sending him staggering back. “Fine! That’s it.” He rushes forward. “Say goodbye Diego,” he says coming up to Diego. Diego tries to fight it, but the man holds him down and grabs a vial. “You’re going to become very obedient.” The man forces Diego to open his mouth dropping a few drops into his mouth. Diego’s eyes shoot open and his cock twitches and stirs before shooting out a load and then another. Each shot wipes a piece Diego away. He struggles and groans and then sits there blank as his cock dribbles out the last drops of cum into a vial leaving him stripped of his identity. The man pulls out a new vial with the words Damian written on it and pours it into the man’s mouth.
“Damian?” He looks up at the man. “How do you feel?” The bound man blinks for a moment and then grins, “good boss. I do something wrong?” He motions to the straps. “No my boy, you asked for it remember?” He unstraps Damian. “Go get cleaned up. I have a job for you.” Damian nods and quickly gets up grabbing the clothes sitting on the table. The man looks at the vial filled with the essence of Diego. He smiles and puts the vial into a case. “I’ll save you for later.” He caps the vial smiling as Damian comes back asking what the job is.
--- Originally posted on 2016-07-12 by makingrealalphas ---
Well, today is officially the 366 days since the change and it has been a blast in college with all of the wrestling team celebrating Coach's birthday. And still, no one remembered Raymond Fitzgerald as International Olympic Champion in Chemistry, beating all the odds and becoming the first American teenager to win a gold medal in Chemistry in the 21st century, instead they remembered me as Ray Fitzgerald, the wrestling champion that went to college with wrestling scholarship because of his undefeated record in National Championship. Well, my brain still in here with me but I just made some "adjustment" in my physique. You know how annoying is to win a fuckin' international championship but the jocks still bullied you and your teacher still praised the jocks all the time even though there's a freakin' world champion in front of their eyes? That's why I decided to transform myself into this piece of stud that oozes nothing more except confidence and a potent musk of a real man in the making, simply for a better life
In college, I befriend with everyone but I still keep everything down low, not partying that much (still so much more than if I still myself), only fuckin' chicks with dignity and not the slutty one and make myself into the same room with the Biochem nerd that still not as smart as me, Clayton. Well, I simply don't want an overly wild college life, I just want a peaceful, bullying-free and a little bit careless college life, and well I get that by being Ray
I walked into my dorm but when I past the mirror that I set there for me checkin' myself before out from my dorm, fuck I can't resist to not see my body even though I've checked it a lot since I made myself lookin' like this
I lift my shirt that perfectly fitted and outlined my body and flashed myself my signature smirk that make all the ladies legs turned into jelly.
Well, there's no one in the dorm so being shirtless won't hurt rite? I take off my shirt, fuck it's quite tight, but it's the right clothes to use if I want to show this body for everyone's satisfaction, and fuck, it's not that defined as it should be.
Guess the season off really make me forget to work out, I think I'll workout right away next morning, need to keep this body in shape for the summer, though.
I checked my back and it's still quite the same, maybe I should put some definition in it for the summer too, so grueling back day in the gym is on the to-do list before summer
Well, enough with the checking. Hayley will be here soon and I can't wait to finally release this load after a whole clean week
It was another Friday afternoon and Max was on his way to an arcade. He had just turned 23 and had been saving up for a while to buy a special coin. They were quite expensive, but would give him unlimited access to the best games in the arcade for an entire week.
Max walked into the arcade and was disappointed to see it wasn’t as busy as he thought it would be. He made his way to the counter where an girl with dark hair smiled at him from behind the glass.
“Hello there, can I help you?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’d like to buy a deluxe coin please,” Max said.
The clerk took his money and gave him the coin before saying, “Enjoy your time here.”
Max then made his way into the main hall where all the arcade machines were. He looked around for a while until he found the game he had come here for. It was called Fighters Paradise and was one of the most popular games in the arcade. It was an interactive boxing game where ridiculously muscular characters would face off each other until one of them was knocked.
Max walked up to the machine and wrapped his around the joystick meant to control the game. He inserted his special coin and as he did the screen turned on. The Fighters Paradise logo was displayed in large letters on the screen. Underneath the logo a question appeared "Do you accept the challenge?". Thinking it might just be some ordinary loading screen he clicked on yes without much thought.
As he did, a bright beam came forth from the screen. As the beam of light touched his body and traveled upwards to his torso his body seemed to be disintegrating. Panicking, he tried letting go of the stick only to realize he couldn't move anything at all.
"Please... someone!" Max called out but no one seemed to be around.
Accepting his fate, he watched as his arms and chest disappeared.
Finally, the beam hit his face and everything turned to black.
---
Max opened his eyes slowly to find himself laying on the sand. He was surrounded by palm trees swaying in the breeze and felt the warm sun beating down from above. Looking around he saw no signs of buildings or any other sign of civilization, just water in every direction as far as the eye could see.
"What the hell?" Max muttered to himself as he stood up and brushed the sand from his clothes. He was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he had on when he went into the arcade.
Max then noticed that he wasn't alone on the beach. A tall muscular man in boxing shorts was walking towards him, boxing gloves wrapped around his fists.
The man smiled as he approached Max and said, "Welcome to the greatest game of all time."
"What do you mean?" Max asked, confused by what was happening.
He then walked up to Max and wrapped him up in a hug before saying, "You're here now, which means you have accepted the challenge."
"What challenge?"
"To fight against the best of the best in an epic battle to the end," the man said sarcastically with a smile. "I am Tyrone, I used to come from the other side just like you. You can live comfortably in this world, you just have to fight opponents every day unless you want to go crazy."
Max what was was weirder, the fact a boxer was standing in front of him instead of the gym or the fact that he had been pulled into a video game and was just told to fight people to until one was KO'd.
Max looked around at the beautiful scenery before asking, "Me? Fight?"
He looked down at his attire, he was not dressed for the beach much less to fight some random stranger.
"Sorry man but I don't think I'm cut out for this. Can't you just send me back out again?" he pleaded with the man
"No can do. It's a one way street." he replied with an empathetic smile.
"But I'm not a fighter!"
"Not yet, is what you mean to say. It won't affect you yet but soon you will be craving combat," he says, "don't worry I'll train you"
Tyrone led Max down to the beach and around a large rock that was at the edge of the water. Behind the rock was a small shack with a boxing ring set up outside it.
"This is where we'll be training," Tyrone said as he opened the door to let Max inside. The gym was nothing special, just an old shed with a few punching bags and some weights.
Max looked around the gym in surprise, "I don't have much experience with boxing."
"That's alright," Tyrone said, "I'll teach you everything you need to know."
He then walked over to a punching bag and hit it with a powerful uppercut. Max was amazed at how hard the man hit the bag, causing it to fly back and hit the wall behind it.
"First things first, let's get some basic punches down," Tyrone said before grabbing two gloves from a shelf. "Here, put these on."
Max took the gloves from Tyrone and put them on. He then watched as Tyrone set up the punching bag so it was hanging at the perfect height for them to use.
"Okay, watch me and copy me," Tyrone said before throwing a jab.
Max followed through with his own jab after watching Tyrone. Tyrone then demonstrated a right hook before having Max throw one as well. After practicing both punches a few times, they moved on to combinations.
"Let's try a simple 1-2 combo," Tyrone said, throwing a jab followed by a right hand. "Copy me."
Max threw the same punch combination after Tyrone and watched as he smiled in approval. They continued practicing punches for a while until Tyrone finally said, "Alright, that's enough for now. Let's move on to something else."
"What next?" Max asked, taking off his gloves and hanging them up on a shelf.
"Let's get some footwork down," Tyrone replied before leading Max out of the gym. "We'll be using the boxing ring outside for this."
Max followed Tyrone out into the backyard where they both stepped into the boxing ring that had been set up there.
"Okay, I want you to move around the ring and pretend you're throwing punches," Tyrone instructed. "Keep your hands up in a defensive position when you're not throwing them."
Max did as he was told, moving around the ring and throwing imaginary punches. After watching him for a moment, Tyrone said, "Your footwork is pretty good already. We just need to work on your balance a little bit."
He then stepped into the ring with Max and had him practice his footwork while he lightly touched him to see how well balanced he was.
"You're doing great," Tyrone said after a few minutes of this. "Alright, let's take it up a notch now."
He then started throwing some light punches at Max to see how well he would dodge them. Max quickly found himself dodging the punches left and right, feeling like he was in an actual fight.
After a while of this, Tyrone finally said, "Okay, that's enough for today."
Max stepped out of the ring, exhausted from all the practice they had done. He was amazed at how well he was doing considering he had never boxed before. He looked over at Tyrone who was watching him with a smile.
"You're a natural," Tyrone said before walking up to Max and patting him on the back. "I'm proud of you."
Max smiled at the compliment, feeling like he had finally earned it after all the hard work he had put in.
"Thanks man," he said to Tyrone. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem," Tyrone replied before walking over to the gym door. "Let's come back tomorrow and we'll keep practicing. I have a feeling you're going to be a force to reckon with in no time."
Max nodded and said, "Sounds good. I can't wait to get better."
As Tyrone closed up the gym he led Max to his villa that was situated close to the beach as well.
"Wow" Max thought to himself amazed by the view and the luxurious building that Tyrone lived in.
"If you're spending a long time here, might as well make it comfortable right?" Tyrone started saying as he led Max through all the different rooms of his house.
"This will be your room, I'll see you in the morning"
Exhausted and overwhelmed by the crazy things that had taken place in what felt like less than a couple hours, he fell asleep in mere minutes.
---
Max awoke with a start, feeling like he had just had the most bizarre dream. It took him a moment to realize that he was actually in a strange dream right now. He looked around the room he was in, noticing that it was much nicer than the one he had been staying in before.
"What the hell?" Max muttered to himself as he got out of bed. He walked over to the window and gazed outside, seeing an amazing view of the ocean.
It was then that he remembered what had happened yesterday, how he had been pulled into a video game world and forced to fight people for Tyrone's entertainment. The thought made him feel anxious, like there was something he should be doing but couldn't quite remember what it was.
Max decided to head down to the kitchen in Tyrone's villa to see if he could find something to eat. As he walked through the hallway he noticed a few pictures on the wall that showed Tyrone with other people. One of them was a man who looked muscular but also very stylish, wearing a suit and smiling for the camera.
Max stopped in front of this picture, feeling like he recognized the man but couldn't quite remember from where. He shook his head and continued on to the kitchen.
When Max entered the kitchen he was greeted by Tyrone who was cooking some eggs and bacon. "Good morning," Tyrone said, "I hope you're feeling rested after yesterday."
Max nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He sat down at the kitchen table and watched Tyrone finish up breakfast as he thought about what had happened the day before.
It was weird how he could remember being in a boring arcade waiting for his turn to play some stupid game, but couldn't recall anything after that. Had they drugged him or something? It was just a theory, but it was the only thing that made sense at this point.
"Here you go," Tyrone said, placing a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Max. "Eat up."
Max started to eat his breakfast, doing his best not to think about the weird day he had had. He was interrupted when Tyrone asked him how he was feeling.
"Anxious," Max replied truthfully, "Like there's something I should be doing but don't know what it is."
Tyrone nodded and said, "It's probably just the curse of being stuck in this video game world. The only thing that helps is to fight."
"Ah," Max sighed in a defeated tone, "so you really weren't kididing about that"
"Nope. The only thing that really helps is to well, fight..." he replied with an empathetic smile.
"Let's get you some clothes and head to the gym, that should help already" Tyrone suggested, already moving towards another room of the large villa.
Max was lead into Tyrone's bedroom which was somehow even more luxurious than the other rooms in the villa.
Tyrone opened yet another door connected to his bedroom which looked to be a walk-in closet lined with boxing clothes and stylish floral shirts.
"Pick something you like and we'll head to the gym, okay?" Tryone said, already grabbing a a nice pair of red shorts.
"See anything you like?" he asked Max who looked like a kid in front of a candy aisle overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choice.
"Uh,"
"Here, just take this" he said handing the pair of red shorts to Max.
"Thanks... Where can I change?"
"What do you mean? Just change here, we're both men right?" Tyrone replied
"Let's get you out of that old t-shirt"
Before Max even had a chance to respond Tyrone came up to him and ripped apart his shirt in one motion.
"We won't be needing that for much long"
Shocked by Tyrone's assertiveness he responded by covering his flat albeit a little pudgy chest with his hands.
Max did not realize his mistake as this gave Tyrone the perfect opportunity to pull down Max's jeans and underwear as well.
"Don't be ashamed man, you've got a nice body" he complimented.
This comment made Max flustered and blushed red harder than he ever had before.
What Tyrone said next however would send Max over the moon.
"If you'll do well today I'll even reward you" he said with a suggestive wink as cupped Max's balls with his hand.
Many emotions rushed through Max's mind: excitement, anxiety, lust.
"Come on Max, we haven't got all day" Tyrone told him, already set on heading to the gym to start their second session.
---
Max and Tyrone have their second training at the small shack again. Max turns out to be a natural at boxing and is improving at an incredible pace. Tyrone decides to do a little sparing with some light punches. Every punch he deals/receives seems to scratch his itch. After the training Max could also swear that his stomach looked a little less pudgy and more far more toned than it ever had been
Max followed Tyrone out of the villa and down to the gym where they had trained yesterday. He was still feeling embarrassed about what had happened in Tyrone's bedroom, but he tried to push those thoughts aside for now.
"Alright," Tyrone said as they stepped into the small shack that served as a boxing gym, "let's get started."
Max nodded and went to put on his gloves while Tyrone set up the punching bag. He had been getting better at landing his punches since yesterday, but there was still room for improvement.
"Remember to keep your guard up," Tyrone said as he finished setting things up. "You never know when I might throw a surprise punch."
Max nodded and assumed a fighting stance, readying himself for the training session ahead. He felt more confident than he had yesterday, but was still wary of Tyrone's skill.
The training started off well, with Max landing several good punches on the bag. Tyrone complimented him on his progress and said that he was getting better at reading his opponent. This made Max feel even more confident as they continued to practice.
After a while, Tyrone suggested that they try some sparring. He promised to go easy on Max, saying that it would help him get used to fighting another person instead of just a bag. Max agreed and they stepped into the ring, starting to throw some light punches at each other.
It felt weird to be hitting Tyrone instead of a sand bag. But they both kept their punches light and tried to focus on improving their technique. As they continued to spar, Max found that every time he landed a punch on Tyrone, it was like scratching that figurative itch deep inside him. It made him want to land more punches, it as almost addictive.
On the other side of things, Tyrone felt a similar itch being scratched when he blocked Max's punches or landed one of his own.
Max started to understand how the curse worked and how fighting was so important in this world.
After a few rounds of sparring, they both were feeling exhausted. Tyrone suggested that they take a break and have some water before heading back into the gym for more training. Max nodded in agreement and they both stepped out of the ring to catch their breath.
As they drank some water, Max couldn't help but notice that his stomach looked less pudgy than it had earlier. He didn't know if it was just his imagination or if all the exercise he had been getting was actually paying off. Tyrone noticed him staring at his own body and smirked.
"What is it?" he asked. "Noticing how much more toned you're getting?"
Max blushed, not sure how to respond. He hadn't meant to be staring at himself, but he couldn't help feeling proud of all the progress he had made in such a short amount of time.
"I guess so," he admitted truthfully.
Tyrone clapped him on the back and said, "Then let's keep up the good work! We'll have you looking like a lean mean fighting machine in no time."
Max smiled back at Tyrone and felt his heart race as he thought about all the changes that might come with more training. They both finished their water and headed back into the gym to continue practicing until it was too dark to see.
---
As they walked back to the villa, Max couldn't help but feel anxious about what was going to happen next. He didn't know how much of it was the curse giving him pleasurable feelings, and how much of it was his own desire to have sex with Tyrone. But he knew that he wanted Tyrone, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
He stayed silent as he entered the villa and followed Tyrone into the bedroom.
"Take off your clothes," Tyrone ordered. "I want to see you naked."
Max did as he was told, feeling a little humiliated to be stripping in front of Tyrone. But it didn't matter, all that mattered was getting some release for his raging hardon. He stood there awkwardly, his cock throbbing painfully as Tyrone looked him up and down with hungry eyes.
"Get on the bed," Tyrone commanded. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."
Max climbed onto the big soft bed, feeling like a rag doll in Tyrone's strong hands. He spread his legs wide open for Tyrone, inviting him to take what he wanted. Tyrone smiled and then kissed Max deeply, his tongue exploring his mouth as his hands gripped Max's ass cheeks.
Max moaned into Tyrone's mouth, begging him to hurry up and fuck him. He was so horny that he didn't care about the kiss or even about Tyrone's skill; he just wanted to cum.
Tyrone positioned himself between Max's legs and spit on his cock before wrapping his hand around it. He started to stroke Max slowly, making him writhe in frustration. Then he suddenly pressed his cock against Max's tight hole and pushed forward without warning.
Max cried out as he felt Tyrone's thick cock stretching him open. It hurt a little at first, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of having Tyrone inside him. He reached down and started to stroke himself while Tyrone began to fuck him for all he was worth.
The bed creaked loudly as Tyrone pounded into Max's ass. His big hands gripped Max's hips tightly, holding him in place as he thrust over and over again. Each time Tyrone bottomed out inside of him, Max felt like his insides were being rearranged. It was a little painful but it also felt so good.
Tyrone's grunts filled the bedroom as he got closer and closer to cumming. He began to fuck Max harder and faster, making him cry out louder and louder. Then Tyrone's cock twitched inside of him and he felt hot cum filling his ass.
"Fuck yes," Tyrone groaned, holding still for a moment as he emptied his balls into Max. "You're such a good fuck."
Max was too busy recovering from his own orgasm to reply. He could feel Tyrone's hot cum leaking out of his ass as he lay on the bed panting. He felt completely empty and satisfied after finally having sex with Tyrone.
After a few moments, Tyrone rolled off of Max and got up to get dressed. He smiled down at Max as he put on his clothes. "That was fun," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Max nodded weakly, his body still trembling from the intense fuck he had just received. Tyrone laid down next to Max, panting heavily. Max turned to the side, resting his head on Tyrone's sweaty chest and quickly drifted off to sleep from exhaustion.
---
The next morning he woke up to sounds of running water and the sight of Tyrone no longer next to him on the bed.
As Max walked into the bathroom, he saw that Tyrone was already there, standing naked in front of the sink. He was brushing his teeth and didn't notice Max enter. Max felt a little thrill at catching Tyrone in such a private moment. He moved closer to Tyrone, watching him as he brushed his teeth.
"Hey," Tyrone said, spitting into the sink after finishing with the toothpaste.
He turned around to see Max standing behind him. He smiled when he saw that Max was still naked from their night together.
"Good morning," Max said, moving closer to Tyrone until their bodies were pressed against each other. He reached around and began to stroke Tyrone's cock through his wet hair.
Tyrone groaned softly as Max's hand moved up and down his shaft. "What do you want this morning?" he asked huskily.
"I just wanted to wake you up properly," Max replied, leaning in to kiss Tyrone's neck. He continued to stroke Tyrone's hardening cock while kissing and licking his neck and chest.
Tyrone reached down to grab the shampoo from the shower cabin, but Max grabbed his hand before he could reach it. "I don't think you need any shampoo," Max said with a mischievous grin. He began to suck on Tyrone's hard nipples, making him groan even louder.
"Fuck... I need a shower," Tyrone panted. He stepped back from Max and turned around to face the shower cabin. "Join me."
Max followed Tyrone into the large shower cabin. It was steamy from the hot water that was falling from the shower head. Tyrone had already lathered up his body, making it slick and shiny. He leaned against the wall of the shower, waiting for Max to join him.
Max stepped closer to Tyrone, pressing his naked body against his. He reached down and began to stroke Tyrone's hard cock, feeling its hot length in his hand.
"Mmm... That feels good," Tyrone groaned.
Max leaned up and kissed him passionately, their tongues dancing together in their mouths. As they made out, Max continued to stroke Tyrone's cock until it was throbbing in his hand.
After a few minutes of making out, Max knelt down in front of Tyrone. He took his cock into his mouth and began to suck on it, gently at first but then with increasing intensity. He used one hand to stroke the base of Tyrone's cock while he sucked on the tip.
"Oh fuck... That feels so good," Tyrone moaned. He put his hands on Max's head, guiding him as he bobbed up and down on his cock.
Max could feel Tyrone's hot cum beginning to flow into his mouth. He sucked harder, trying to coax as much of it out of Tyrone as possible. When Tyrone finally came, he groaned loudly while Max gulped down his load.
After Tyrone had finished cumming, Max stood up and kissed him again. They continued to make out for a few more minutes before Max stepped back to rinse off. He felt refreshed and ready for another day of training after the steamy shower session with Tyrone.
As they stepped out of the bathroom, Tyrone noticed that their clothes were neatly folded on the bed. He smiled at Max and said, "I guess you're ready to go then?"
Max nodded, feeling a little sad to be leaving so soon after such an intimate moment in the shower. He followed Tyrone out of the villa and they headed to the gym for another day of training.
---
For the next week, Max spent most of his time at the gym being trained by Tyrone. He had never been in such good shape before and was enjoying the feeling of his muscles growing and becoming stronger.
Tyrone complimented him on his progress every day, telling him that he was making fast improvements. He said that with a few more weeks of training, Max would be ready to do his first real battle.
Max was excited at the prospect of finally fighting and the immense pleasure it would bring him.
"Fuck babe, you look so hot now." Tyrone said, looking at Max with hungry eyes.
"You remember when you first came here?" he started, "look at you know" he continued.
Tyrone grabbed onto Max's arms who flexed them in response.
"Like what you see?" Max said with a cocky smirk
"I do" Tyrone replied as he groped Max's pecs.
"Don't be shy" Max egged him on as he lead Tyrone's hands down into his boxing shorts.
"Show me how much you like my body"
Tyrone smiled and pushed Max down onto his bed.
"Fuck babe, you're so-"
"Ssh..." Tyrone signaled, sealing Max's mouth with his lips as he passionately kissed him.
Max moaned into Tyrone's mouth as their tongues danced together in each other's mouths. He felt like he was melting under Tyrone's touch.
As they made out on the bed, Tyrone began to kiss his way down Max's body, moving from his mouth, to his chest, and then lower to his stomach. He kissed all over Max's body, leaving him feeling hot and wanting more.
When Tyrone reached Max's boxing shorts, he undid the button and pulled them down along with his underwear. His hard cock sprang up, bobbing in the air as Tyrone stared at it hungrily.
"You're so fucking hot," Tyrone said, before positioning his ass, ready to take Max's cock.
He slowly lowered himself down onto Max's cock, feeling it slide into his tight hole. He groaned in pleasure as he took more and more of Max's huge cock inside of him. When he finally bottomed out, he sat there for a moment, enjoying the fullness that came from being filled up completely.
Then he started to ride Max, bouncing up and down on his cock. He reached down and began to stroke his own dick as he fucked Max.
Max felt like he was in heaven. Tyrone's tight ass felt amazing as it slid up and down his cock. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to cumming each time Tyrone took his entire length inside of him.
"Fuck babe, you're so tight," Max groaned.
Tyrone smiled at Max, his eyes filled with desire and lust. He began to fuck him even faster, moving his ass up and down quickly on Max's cock.
Max reached up and grabbed Tyrone's hair, pulling him close to him so that they were chest-to-chest. He kissed him passionately, their tongues tangling together in a hot embrace.
Tyrone moaned into Max's mouth as he continued to fuck his cock. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to cumming.
Suddenly, Tyrone's eyes widened and he let out a long groan as he came on Max's chest. His ass tightened around Max's cock, milking it until he finally came too.
"Fuck babe," Max said, panting heavily after his own orgasm had subsided. "That was amazing."
---
Max woke up with a groan, feeling like he had just had the best dream ever. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it wasn't a dream after all. Tyrone was still naked and lying next to him on the bed. He smiled at Max as if to say "thank you" for last night before getting up to get dressed.
Max looked down at himself and noticed that he was wearing his red shorts again. It felt weird to be wearing them after all this time in Tyrone's villa, but it was a sign that he was ready to fight his first real opponent.
"Hey babe," Tyrone said, coming back over to the bed after getting dressed. "You ready for your first battle?"
Max nodded, feeling a little nervous but mostly excited. He had been training hard for this day and was now just one step away of becoming a full-fledged fighter.
"Let's go"
---
Max and Tyrone arrived at the arena, which was packed with people cheering for the upcoming fight. Max felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him as he stepped into the ring, looking at his opponent.
His opponent was a muscular guy in a leather chest piece and a loincloth. He had scars on his face and arms, making him look like a true warrior.
"Ready to get your ass kicked?" Max taunted, feeling confident that he could win the fight.
The opponent grinned at Max, then nodded to signal that he was ready to start. The bell rang and the two of them began to circle the ring, sizing each other up.
Max saw an opening in his opponent's defenses and lunged forward with a flying tackle. He hit his opponent square in the chest and sent him flying back into the ropes. His world stood still as an immense wave of pleasure hit Max. He had gotten used to the effects of the curse when sparring but this was the first time experiencing the real deal.
Time continued as the crowd cheered loudly as Max stood valiantly over his downed opponent.
"What a great first round," Tyrone said, slapping Max on the back. "You've got this, babe."
Max grinned at Tyrone, feeling like a million bucks. He turned to face his opponent again and saw him getting up and ready to fight once more.
"Ready for round two?" Max asked, looking even more smug now.
The opponent lunged forward with an uppercut, but Max ducked under the attack. He then kicked his opponent in the thighs, sending him to the ground. The crowd cheered again as Max stood over his defeated opponent.
"And the winner is... MAX!" the announcer declared, raising Max's hand into the air.
Max felt like a million bucks as he basked in the cheers of the crowd. He had won his first fight and was on his way to becoming a true experienced fighter.
"So, what's next?" Max asked, eagerly looking forward to the next round of battles; to the next wave of pleasure.
Tyrone smiled at Max, "I know first-hand the pleasure of a first real battle but you've got take a break for today and enjoy your victory. Tomorrow will find someone else again to battle, for now let's take a break."
"I know something else we could do for the rest of the day" Tyrone said.
Max didn't even have to ask what he meant. A tent had already started forming in his shorts long before he had a chance to finish his session.
What would happen next is another yet another round, though this time in a different place and different setting.
---
Max had lost count of how long he had been living in this new world. He was enjoying his time here with his boyfriend Tyrone. They both spent most of their days either fighting, fucking or training for the next fight.
Max had recently started his first week in the arena and it had gone well. He had won every fight and got a lot of points. The second week wasn't as lucky. Max had lost half his fights which meant he had to wait another two weeks before he could challenge for the top spot again.
During those two weeks, Max and Tyrone spent their time either fucking or training hard in the gym. When they weren't doing one of those two things they were relaxing at home, cuddling on the bed naked or watching some TV in the living room. They had gotten into a routine of sorts, which Max enjoyed immensely.
Max couldn't believe that he was now a muscular stud in this new world and with his hot boyfriend to boot. He had been transported here against his will and was practically forced to fight every day but at least he had Tyrone to keep him company.
A lot had happened in a short span of time but he had not lamented it at all. His old life that he had back when he entered the arcade is now gone.
Now he enjoyed a simple life together with his new boyfriend in a world where the only that matters is to fight.
Another favorite
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Max?” His voice was slow and unsure. I wasn’t surprised.
“That doesn’t seem right, does it?”
“No,” he confessed.
“You look like a Jock to me.”
He hummed in agreement, eyes still glazed over.
“What do you do, Jock?”
“I work on com–” He broke off, frowning as he struggled with his words. “I work on computers.”
“No, that’s not right. What do you do, Jock?”
There was a slight pause before a dumb smile began to cross over his face. “Flex,” he grunted.
“Where are we, Jock?”
“The gym.”
“What’s so special about the gym, Jock?”
“I flex here,” he responded, eagerly lifting his arms to flex his massive guns. “I get bigger.”
It was hilarious to think that just a few minutes ago those mountainous biceps had been half the size. Then again he’d been twice as intelligent then too so this really was a trade up for both of us. I hadn’t even realized my magic was possible of changing another person this much but I guess the amulet I bought really does amplify my magic like the store owner said. And here I was thinking he had been trying to con me out of some money!
“Who do you belong to, Jock?”
Another pause. His arms dropped to his side and he frowned. “No-one?” he replied slowly, sounding more unsure of himself than ever.
“You don’t really believe that, do you, Jock?”
“No… sir.”
“Who do you belong to, Jock?”
“You sir!” he barked in response, frown dropping into a dumb smile. Such a brainless brawny beauty and he was all mine. I could already think of a number of things I was going to do with him now that he was under my control but why not take it slow first of all and really take a look at what I now own?
“Go on, Jock. Pick up those weights and show me what you can do. Prove what a big man you are!”
The moment Jock’s hands wrapped around those weights he lost the last remaining bits of himself. Gone was Max, the computer techie from my office who had deemed himself too good looking to go on a date with me. Now he’s a lumbering mindless jock who wants nothing more than to please me any way he possibly can. Don’t worry, it’s not all bad for him - I’m pretty sure he’s going to love every moment of it from now on!
Hi all! Thanks to efforts by @masterwolftfs I have managed to recover even more of TheBurdenBorne's (DeviantArt) old stories!
Below will be a huge index compiled by @imsrtman of most of the titles of TheBurdenBorne's written works.
What I have already posted on Tumblr will clickable on the list.
Similarly, anything marked with an asterisk means that I have a copy of it and will post it soon. I also have some stories that I'm not sure what the title is of so I'll need help with that as well.
As for the remaining entries on the list:
Please send me a DM if you have any of the stories that are not marked or posted yet! I
It does not matter if you only have say part 4 or part 2. If everyone contributes parts here and there we can recover most of it!
(All the stories are sorted from A-Z ascending)
Uncategorized:
Dog Tags
Hypnotizing Young Bro
Jock boy is hypnotized
Man's Best Friend
Missing Dick
Sculpted
Tailgating
Trash
Series: Black Power
Black Power Ch. 1
Black Power Ch. 2
Series: College Camp
College Camp Part I
College Camp Part II
College Camp Part III
College Camp Part IV
Series: Dancing Bears
Dancing Bears No 1
Dancing Bears No 2
Dancing Bears No 3
Series: Daydream Age
Daydream Age 13
Daydream Age 23
Daydream Age 33
Daydream Age 43
Daydream Age 43
Series: Enrollment Week
Enrollment Week 1 (Garrett-POV)
Enrollment Week 2 (Garrett-POV
Enrollment Week 3 (Garrett-POV)
Enrollment Week 4 (Louis-POV)
Enrollment Week 5 (Carl POV)
Enrollment Week 6 (Wesley POV)
Series: Extra Curricular
Extra Curricular: Filmmaking
Extra Curricular: Metals
Extra Curricular: Woods
Series: For Him
For Him Part One
For Him Part Two
For Him Part Three
For Him Part Four
For Him Part Five
Series: Manual Labor
Manual Labor Client One
Manual Labor Client Two
Manual Labor Client Three*
Manual Labor Client Four
Series: One Fad Fits All
One Fad Fits All: Biker Chic
One Fad Fits All: Bodyguard
One Fad Fits All: Cowboy Up*
One Fad Fits All: Lumbersexual
One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys
Series: Ostello della moda
Ostello della moda: Antonio
Ostello della moda: Bruno*
Ostello della moda: Christofano
Ostello della moda: Diego*
Ostello della moda: Eduardo*
Series: Pokémon Go Team Green
Pokémon Go Team Green: Battle
Pokémon Go Team Green: Captured
Pokémon Go Team Green: Hatched
Pokémon Go Team Green: Traded
Series: Primal Instincts
Primal Instincts: A Bit Overbearing
Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs*
Primal Instincts: Monkey Around
Series: Product Placement
Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer*
Product Placement: Free trial Attraktion Kondom
Product Placement: Free wax and hair removal*
Product Placement: Subway sleeper*
Product Placement: Wet Dreams*
Series: Roommate Needed
Roommate Needed One*
Roommate Needed Two
Roommate Needed Three
Roommate Needed Four
Roommate Needed Five
Roommate Needed Six
Roommate Needed Seven
Series: Selfie Seduction
Selfie Seduction Interlude
Selfie Seduction Part 1
Selfie Seduction Part 2
Selfie Seduction Part 3
Selfie Seduction Finale
Series: The Collector
The Collector Part 1: Auction
The Collector Part 2: Acquisition
The Collector Part 3: Audition
The Collector Part 4: Abduction
Series: The Modern Man:
The Modern Man-Step 1
The Modern Man-Step 2
The Modern Man-Step 3
The Modern Man-Step 4
The Modern Man-Step 5
The Modern Man-Step 6
--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---
Brian and Jose were the only two still following Mr. Godfrey around school with blank stares on their faces. A bell rang and students filed into the hallways as Mr. Godfrey ushered them towards an exit.
"Hey, Jose," shouted a student. "Where you going? Are we meeting up later."
Jose stared back blankly, causing Mr. Godfrey to step in between a say interject. "They have detention. Do you want to join him?"
"No ... uh ... no, sir," said the student, retreating back into the crowd.
"Keep walking," he said to the two hypnotized guys as they headed outside. On one side of the parking lot was a shed that the school used for storing their buses, vans, and other vehicles. It was also where they taught a few classes occasionally, in particular the automotive club. Outside, there was a small truck with straw bales and bags of feed in the back. Mr. Godfrey turned to Jose, "You, get in the truck and wait." Jose walked towards the truck and mindlessly open the door and waited in the passenger seat. Brian and Mr. Godfrey kept walking through the open garage doors shop. There was a run down car with its hood open and engine parts and supplies scattered on work benches. Mr. Godfrey pushed a button next to the door and started lowering the doors. He walked over to the car and turned the key and the car revved to life.
"All right, kid. This is your assignment. Get under the car. Pay attention. Get your hands dirty and you'll make a good mechanic."
Brian stared blankly back, still deep in trance.
"Are you stupid!? Get under the car," said Mr. Godfrey, stepping closer. The boy looked scared and confused. "Here, let me help." He walked over to Brian, dipped one of his hands in some motor oil and wiped it onto the sleeve of Brian's shirt. He held his finger next to Brian's face and said, "Breathe it in, boy. Breathe deep. Relax. Breathe." Brian's eyes seemed to roll back into his head in ecstasy. Mr. Godfrey wiped the rest of the oil onto Brian's cheek and forehead.
"Your shirt is dirty, boy. You better keep it clean," he said. "How about you take it off and get under the car?"
Brian's hands moved slowly and he pulled off his shirt.
"Good, now lie down. Breathe. Relax. Just lie down on the dolly over there."
He knelt down and rolled onto the metal cart with wheels. Gently, Mr. Godfrey wheeled him under the car.
"Just like tucking you into bed. You're tired. Relax. When you wake up, you will be relaxed. Just keep breathing."
The exhaust fumes and heat from the engine made Brian feel more relaxed. He hear Mr. Godfrey turn on the radio of the car and blast it. The fumes started to make him go dizzy. He saw a bright light and heard a door slam. Mr. Godfrey had left the garage and he felt like he was paralyzed underneath the car. The radio seemed to fill his head with sound and he felt like his body was melting away. He blacked out.
---
When he woke up and saw the underbelly of the car above him and heard the engine rumbling. He instinctively felt his arms and legs rolling the dolly back into the garage. He was surprised because he wasn't sure why his body was moving, but it was like he was in a dream. His body was moving but he was not in control, just on autopilot. He opened the door and turned the key off, listening to the engine wind down. He walked over to the hood of the car, grabbed a rag, and began working on the engine. He look at his hands and realized that they were black with oil and grease. He was shirtless and his chest and arms were covered in sweat and grime. His baggy jeans were barely held up by his belt. He looked down at his body and saw that his waist and torso were chiseled and toned. He lifted a tire off off the ground nearby and felt his arms swell up with muscle. He slid the tire into place, grabbed a air wrench, and zipped the bolts into place. The car looked like it was complete, so he walked over to the sink to clean up. He couldn't help but stare at his body in the mirror and felt aroused when he ran his hands over his sweaty body. Some part of him was resisting this transformation and he knew that this was all a dream or hallucination. But his body was beyond control, and he seemed to be remembering new things about his past. He took shop classes in high school, had always been interested in motors and engines, he could recite facts about cars and trucks, and even watched NASCAR from time to time. Next to the mirror, he saw a hook with a pair of military dog tags hanging. The name on them was "Bruce Torkelson," which seemed familiar to him. Instinctively, he slung the chain around his neck and felt the cold metal resting on his chest. A wave of new memories washed over him. He had enlisted in the army right out of high school. He had been a mechanic for a few years. He never saw active duty, but worked on equipment and vehicle maintenance. His army buddies had given him the nickname "Tork" and he had grown used to it over the years. He served his duty and now worked at a local mechanic's shop. He grabbed a camo t-shirt from the bench, slid it over his head and headed over to the door. He flicked the lights off in the garage and walked outside. He could barely remember his high school days, but that didn't matter anymore. Parked outside was a Harley-Davidson. He turned the key, revved the engine, and cruised out of the parking lot.
---
Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked
Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.
If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!
---
Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.
Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.
“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”
“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”
“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”
His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.
“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.
Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.
“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.
“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.
“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”
Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.
“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”
Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.
“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”
“Thanks, sir.”
“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”
Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.
“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.
“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”
He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.
All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.
“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”
Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.
“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”
“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”
Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.
“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”
The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.
“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.
“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”
“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.
“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.
“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.
— —
Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.
The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.
“Alright next!”
Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.
“Zaney boy, ya made it!”
Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.
“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.
“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.
“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”
“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.
“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”
They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.
“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.
“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.
“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.
“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.
“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”
Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.
“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”
It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.
9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!
The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.
“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”
“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.
8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.
9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!
“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”
Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.
“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.
10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!
“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”
“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.
“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”
“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.
— —
“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.
“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.
“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”
“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”
“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.
“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.
“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”
“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.
“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”
“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.
“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”
“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.
“I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.
“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.
“Wait, Kaedan?”
“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”
Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.
“One sec, just let me check something.”
Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.
“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?
“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”
“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”
“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.
“Kaedan, I don’t under-”
Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.
“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.
“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”
“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”
“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.
“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”
Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.
8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!
Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.
8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!
Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.
“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”
“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.
“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”
“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.
“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”
“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.
“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”
Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.
“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”
“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.
“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.
“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”
“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.
“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”
Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.
“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”
“Blue?”
“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.
“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”
“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.
“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.
“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”
“Eeyup.”
“And why are you telling me this?”
“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.
“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”
“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”
“And what color are you?”
Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.
“Gotcha!”
Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.
“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.
Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.
“Are ya gonna take it or what?”
Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.
“It’s just too easy.”
Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.
“What… what did you do?”
“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.
“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.
The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.
After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.
Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.
With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.
The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.
“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”
“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.
“What in tarnation is left?”
“Just give it a sec-”
“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”
Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.
Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.
“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”
Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.
“Wow-ie!”
A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.
“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.
“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.
“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”
“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”
“Ah I see.”
10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!
Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.
“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”
“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”
“See y’all then, Wayne.”
The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.
Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.
10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!
ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!
Show some love to this new artist in the TF space!
"no fear, no limits, no surrender."
It's been a while since I've published but the truth is that when I found myself in finals, my head seems to have decided that not want to draw so it cost me a lot to finish this drawing. But finally I got it bring you this. I hope you like it
--- Originally posted by unknown before 2018-08-22 ---
So you want a body you can brag about, well since you been so nice and kind and you have helped me along this journey I can.
All I just need is you to put these on. Ohh, there to big for you.
I am sure you will grow into them.
You're feeling hot?
Why don't you just jump into the blue sea and cool off?
Wow, nice jump man.
Are you still feeling good? No? How?
All a sudden you feel great pain in the chest and feel great muscle grow, you feel six punches in your belly, you uncover a sweet six-pack.
You feel more muscle growth in your arms and legs, as you get stronger.
You feel that tension between your arms and your moans as they grow bigger and deeper.
Your legs get straight as all the muscle gets into a balance.
Heat goes to your face as you feel a rash and the more you started you felt a small beard form.
You soon feel you get longer and your nose straight and your eyes widened to show you beautiful eye color as it changes from green to black and soon that red hair becomes a beautiful brown shiny hair.
You begin to moan as your small ass gets bigger for fucking people with, your dick gets bigger and so do your balls, as you cum all over them.
You begin to moan, as your mind becomes clear and you're dumber, as it gets cleared with sexy guys.
Well if you are feeling good, you look good instead.
Well, get out of that water if you feeling good? No, why?
Who are you starting at? Him? Wow!
Why don't you get a piece of him?
You can brag to him about your body, but I think you're too dumb to understand me.
Well just go gets some ass because I think he is starting at you too and I think he needs help down there man.
And maybe after that, you can tell me the details.
Well, I don't think you need that Brian to brag, even though you can't because you're too dumb to understand me and you can just let your body do the work.
Oops sorry man I that I used too many words.
Don't stand around to get him.
Chad was extremely smart. He was straight and was prettty small for his age. His father was just the dumb sexy quarterback and his mother was just the sexy lady with the big tits that is why his father loves her. They were disappointed in chad for not following in his fathers footsteps of being the quarterback and being laid on sexy women. They always made fun of chad for being really ugly to this family.
But when Chad was at school it was worse. All the bullying would make depressed and the bullies would make him do their homework with no price. All the teachers would even be mad sometimes when Chad corrected them. The terrible thing that would get him bullied was reminding the teacher of a test or homework.
Till that stupid day changed all of it. Chad was starting to get used to being bullied, but it that one day ticked him off. Chad was completely straight and the quarterback named Abe has started a rumor of how Chad was gay. Even though Chad was upset that it turns out Abe was the one that was gay because Chad was in the bathroom and he opens the door to a stall and saw Abe Jerking off to gay porn, now Chad has to keep it a secret or else he will be bullied this life will be ruined.
Chad was confused by why he had told this rumor, even though he has never told Abe’a secret if being gay. Chad went to Abe after his final class. He asked why he had done that at first, but then he just started laughing about how he just did it for fun and even if he told every he was gay they would believe you. Chad became upset and this where his life changed forever. Chad started to tell Abe ”you big shit, fuck you, you are just a big dumb jock, you think your cool for being the quarterback and your just scared to tell every you gay like the pussy you are.”. The next he saw before getting knocked out was Abe’a big hand coming towards his face.
All you now know now that this was all Chad’a fault for what happens to himself. Of course, the first he saw that Chad was in a chair with rope tied around his arms. He could feel the sweat run down his face. The cool breeze didn’t help the heat. He looked up to the darkness. Chad began to become scared as he saw a dark shadow coming towards the light and with every foot step made his heart beat quicker, so the dark creature went into Chad without a chance.
The next thing that happened was his body grew the rope tighten harder as his arms grew bigger stronger and bigger, his clothes morphed big, but soon abs grew on Chad and he couldn’t help but moan. He couldn’t resist the crature making him bigger and stronger. His cock grew bigger and so did his legs his mind dumbed down faster as he couldn’t remember his past life, then seconds flashed as he started to become the dumb jock Abe it turns out Abe wanted his to suffer like him, a hot sex toy that everyone thinks is dumb
The next thing was that his face was growing a soft beard. It was so hot alover he couldn’t resist. He sumbited each time. Submit and submit. Nothing was left for an option. So Chad now Abe fell tired and fell asleep. Soon he woke in his bed next to a hot Female he looked at her and it turns out Abe was gay and he looked at the girl as it faded awayed to become a hot sweaty masking man. It turns out some of him changed, but not all. But his curse was that he would be dumber then Abe and now he has to face the difficult of wearing a shirt that said dumb jock and so did all his shirts and he wasn’t aloud to gain any knowledge.
But let’s just say he has muscle and all the dudes right?