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leo-bear · 7 days

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2nd Chances

Nico and I have been friends since we were kids. We did every single thing together. From coloring in kindergarten to joining the wrestling team in high school, we were ceremonial twins essentially despite are vastly different racial backgrounds. Hell we even came out as Bi to one another at the same time.

We were always on the same page until we got to college. It's so silly in retrospect. I could have never foreseen that we would like the same person and that it would lead to such a big fight that we both stormed off to cool down. He went for a run on campus and I got in my car and sped off, but so did this speeding truck that ran a red light.

I was in the hospital for 3 months and every day Nico would stop by and stay by my side crying, pleading, wishing for me to wake up. But when that 3rd month ended, so did doctor's hope that I would ever wake up.

I remember hearing Nico hysterically crying telling the doctors to fix me. There was no fixing me.

The night before they were set to take me off life support, Nico layed in my hospital bed with me. That's when he made the wish.

"I don't want to lose you Emil but I'm going to live out everything you've wanted to accomplish. I just wish I could do more so you could be the one to live our your dreams."

I woke up the next day and picked up my phone...what? How am I picking up my phone? Wait this isn't my phone? But it unlocked to my face? I fiddled my fingers to open up the selfie camera.

"Nico?" I gasped.

The bed I was in was empty. Someone from the hospital came to break the news to me that "Emil" passed away at night ahead of them disconnecting "him" from life support. They had staff place me in another bed while "his" family mourned.

"If I'm Nico does that mean...no....it can't"

I couldn't believe this he didn't make a wish to die, but then I sensed I wasn't alone. I got up and searched the room. But no one was there. Instead I heard a voice but it was inside my head.

"Hello? What's going on?" the voice said.

I couldn't wrap my head around all of these new developments. I felt like I was about to faint and honestly thought I did. But then the body I'm in braced itself and spoke out loud without me doing it.

"Woah. What just happened? I was like watching myself move but not controlling?" Nico's body said.

That's when it clicked

"Nico is that you in here?" I yelled in an exasperated glee.

Nico and I headed to a cafe where he got a coffee and we spoke in our weird new internalized way. I told him to put his headphones on so no one would think he was crazy.

We never thought a wish would lead to something beyond scientific explanation. It felt like we were always hugging one another, just surrounded by each others platonic love. I was so glad I didn't have to lose him even though it meant I lost my body.

Weeks went by and it was hard for me. Anytime I took control of Nico's body I felt like I was putting a show on pretending. But that's not me. I think the best perk of being in the same body was Nico being present and co-experiencing my emotions.

"You don't have to pretend to be me. We can just make a new 'Nico'. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you're unhappy or trapped Emil." Nico said giving me the closest thing he could to a consoling hug.

Over the next few days we talked about boundaries about our new Nico.

No partners without both agreeing. No major tattoos and piercings without both agreeing. You might be sensing a theme here. The new Nico was a democracy, but at least I didn't have to be hyper masculine like I thought he wanted me to be. If anything my flamboyant nature was something he said he always wanted to channel more but felt too insecure to do.

Becoming one person felt like we were actually 2 halves finally returning together for the greater good.

But at the end of the day, we're still 2 college aged bi dudes. When we went out it was the best of both world times 2. We turned looks that channeled both our vibes but also our drive was insatiable. It may just be one body but partners had to please 2 sex drives.

In the semi-rare occasion we both agreed on one person to go home with, we destroyed them, especially men. Those became our favorite interactions only because it was easier to flip and f*ck.

I'd start leading them on letting them think they'd get to top such a beefy and submissible bottom which was true. Nico's body was not a bottom before I got here but he absolutely should have. His butt was almost asking to be spread and eaten. These thighs from years of wrestling and collegiate sports allowed me to just ride for an hour if I wanted. By the time they were done and we're glistening in sweat and panting, Nico tagged in.

He's the definition of a fuckboy with the way he lays pipe. He knew all the right ways to treat you before impaling you with his sizably thick dick. I'll never forget the face of the first guy we flipped. He was looking at us so surprised with eyes that almost look like he was hungry for us. Back and forth, thrusting until they moan unbelievably loud from the lengthy sessions. I don't know how NIco was cumming before but he's definitely cumming enough for 2 people with the way we climax now.

We're glad to be together now....no more than anything I'm glad to be Nico now, too.

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leo-bear · 8 days

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Commission - Cut Above the Rest

Another commission from a few months ago. Thank you to the anonymous user who commissioned it!

This story came out early on my Patreon! If you're interested in early stories and other benefits check it out here! Interested in commissioning me? Check out this post for more information on rules and pricing.

~~~

“Thanks, yeah that’s great!” William said with a smile and a nod of thanks before he left the latest barber shop in his string of failures.

He was lying through his teeth and he knew it, but William was too polite to say otherwise whenever he went to get a haircut. The same practised appreciation for something half the time he didn’t really like, as close as it was to what he originally asked for. He’d never known how he truly wanted it styled, just went along with whatever the thousandth hairdresser he was trying suggested. Nothing worked though.

So here he was a month later on yet another attempt to find a place he liked, wandering around the city searching for a place he hadn’t tried yet, which was a challenge in itself. He’d been to every popular place, every barbers and hairdressers, every little hole in the wall and random person that thought they could give him a cut he was finally happy with. It was a big city, so William was lucky in that regard with how many new places seemed to be opening up all over sometimes. Today was another one of those days where a friend of a friend of a friend had been to somewhere new and he was on the hunt for it.

Roughly half an hour after he’d left home, William finally set eyes on it. A smart looking place with a sign in the window claiming to be newly opened. From what William could see it looked like a middle-eastern, Turkish style barbers, of which he’d been to several similar places before. Though, the closer he got to the front of the place the more he realised this didn’t look like any other barber’s shop he’d been to. On one side you had the usual chairs, mirrors and hair cutting equipment, on the other though it was entirely different. Wall to wall gym equipment, enough to make it look like a home gym or small public one. It was perhaps the most unique looking place William had ever seen to get his haircut, and he'd been to a lot of places in his 26 years alive.

“Suppose you've got to market to a new audience somehow with all the competition around…” William mumbled to himself as he approached the door.

A small bell above the door jingled when William entered. He couldn't see anyone hovering around the main section to greet him and ask what he wanted like usual, so he glanced over to the small area with gym equipment. The only guy in the section, who was currently lifting what looked to be a heavy bar, met his gaze a moment later and smiled.

"Gimme one sec and I'll be with you bro!" The guy said before he turned his attention back to lifting.

That guy was the barber? William could hardly believe it. He’d expected someone more average. Maybe an old dude with a belly, not some tattooed middle-eastern jock. Though, he supposed this guy wasn’t all that young looking from what he could see. There was the odd sign of age on his still fit body, little hints that gave away that he was definitely older than William. He supposed it made sense for that type of man to be someone that comes up with the half gym half barbers shop idea; he knew the type of jock that loved to live in the gym, now this dude could work full time cutting hair and get a workout in whenever he wanted.

William stood awkwardly to one side next to the door whilst he waited for the guy to finish up. Luckily it only took a few minutes before he set the bar back down on the rack and sat up, then gave William another smile. Much to his relief, William watched the guy wipe off a little sweat with a spare towel he had laying around, then slid on a grey tank top before he pushed to his feet. He was at least professional enough to be fully clothed, which was more than William was able to say for one or two of the people he’d given a go at getting the haircut correct.

“Sorry about that man, didn’t think I’d get anyone in this early!” The handsome hunk said when he finally stopped in front of William and extended a hand. “Hassan, nice to meet you.”

Out of sheer politeness William tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smHaving just worked out, Hassan smelt like any other sweaty jock, which wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences for him. He wasn’t the most confident type though, so instead he shook the offered hand and bit back any slightly more unkind opinions however true they may be.

“Nice to meet you Hassan, I’m William.” He held in his grimace at the sweaty palm when they shook. “It’s almost midday though, why didn’t you expect anyone?” He enquired, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Hassan shrugged as he pulled his hand back. “Only been open a couple of days, so I hadn’t expected word to spread enough yet. Had a couple dudes I was already friends with my first day open, one new guy yesterday afternoon, now you. So thanks I guess, you being here means I gotta be doing something right!”

As much as Hassan did smell like a sweaty bro that hadn’t showered in a week, there was something almost infectiously friendly about him. A magnetic energy that had William relaxing around the man already, despite only having just met.

“Anyway, what can I do for you man? Need of a trim I assume?” Hassan walked around behind the desk near the door and grabbed a bottle of water, then took a swig from it. “You’re in good shape already, probably doesn’t need much doing by the looks of it.”

William sighed. “That’s exactly the problem I guess.” He didn’t know why he felt like gushing about the problem to this guy over anyone else, but William could barely stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “I’ve never really known how I want it cut. A thousand different people have tried a thousand different cuts, yet nothing has ever quite looked right. Never been able to put my finger on it, but I’ve just never been satisfied.”

Hassan had a knowing smile on his face, which seemed out of place to William. “I think I know what your problem is, Will, it's obvious really.” Hassan spoke with such confidence in his assessment William didn’t really know what to think. “Obvious to me at least. You wanna know what I think?”

William nodded. He wasn’t expecting an actual answer, but at this point he’d try anything this guy thought was a fix.

“I don’t think it’s the hair that’s the problem, it’s the rest of you. You don’t feel at home in your skin, so it’s only natural you can’t find a haircut that makes you happy. You’re trying to match it to the wrong body.” Hassan stepped to the side and gestured at one of the chairs behind him. “Take a seat and I’ll show you what I mean.”

William blinked. He wasn’t sure he’d quite heard things right. “Sorry, what? You think I don’t feel at home in my skin, what the hell does that mean??”

Hassan shrugged as if it was barely a question that had to be asked. “I mean exactly what I said. We’ll get you a new skin tone, maybe some muscle too whilst I’m here, then see what we can do about your hair.”

“But… But that’s not…” William stuttered out, his brain still trying to catch up with the seriousness Hassan was putting forward.

Hassan’s face bristled with a slight irritation, but it didn’t seem to be directed at William. It was more of a general irritation at the situation, though it didn’t last long. As he walked back towards William and the intense musky smell grew again the irritation eased off, replaced with a look William didn’t recognise. Or, one he didn’t want to recognise anyway. Arousal. Clear as anything behind Hassan’s eyes, an arousal that had William terrified and horny at the same time.

The intense smell wasn’t helping anything either. It’d disgusted William at first, but the more it wafted off the stud the more he found himself enjoying it. He felt safe here, safe with Hassan calling the shots. So what if changing skin sounded ridiculous and impossible, wasn’t he just thinking he’d try anything to finally be rid of this irritation? He could at least let the gorgeous older man try, it’s not like there would be any harm. He was safe with Hassan, he reminded himself, it’s not like the guy he’d known since childhood would do anything bad to him.

William shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. He’d only just met Hassan, he hadn’t known him since childhood! But then… How did he even know about this place? Why was he so used to the slightly arousing smell of his best friend if they hadn’t known each other for so long? And, why was he letting Hassan get so close if he wasn’t already comfortable around him?

“You okay there Will? Come on, let me help you out, yeah?” Hassan said when he stopped less than a foot away from William. Right up in his personal space, but then William could remember Hassan always being like that around him… Couldn’t he?

Will nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, don’t know what came over me for a second there.” He shook his head and blinked a couple times, then smiled up at Hassan. “Let’s get me in that chair, if you really think this new skin tone stuff you’re saying will help then I guess I trust you.”

Hassan smiled as he guided Will over to the chair he’d indicated before, making sure he stayed close. The hypnotising effects of his smell would only hold as long as he was near, at least until he could do the rest of his work. This guy was exactly what he’d been hoping for when he opened this place, though he hadn’t expected to find it fast enough. Someone lost enough to make it easy for him to mould, someone clearly desperate enough that they’d accept whatever help was given with the right push. As soon as he’d worked the magic in through his scent William would be locked in as whoever Hassan sculpted him into; he was far more than a simple barber after all.

With a flourish he draped a sheet around Will’s neck and secured it to protect his clothes from any falling hair. In reality it was much more to disguise the changes to his body until it was too late, but it was part of the convenient lie that had made him choose this profession. Most of the time he just made little adjustments to people before they left, but occasionally, when the right person came along, he could afford larger ones without having to exert any extra effort. He’d already embedded a history of friendship without even having to think, so he already knew he’d be able to go the extra mile here.

He grabbed a pair of scissors, then took his position behind the chair and smiled at William in the mirror. “Just sit back and relax okay? I know you’re not really sure about all this, but have I ever done you wrong in the past?” William shook his head after a brief frown of confusion. “Exactly. So trust me when I say you might be sceptical, but this will fix any hir worries you have forever okay?”

With the final words of reassurance offered, and his subtle check his influence was still working, Hassan started his work on the cut. It wasn’t just hir he was cutting away as his scissors glided through blond strands though, it was everything. The sweaty smell from his recent workout enveloped the room, and with it Hassan cut away everything weighing William down. All the anxieties, all the stress, all the baggage he was carrying around from everyday life that led him to obsess so intensely over something as simple as a haircut gone with a few chops. His attachment to his identity as a white man was next to go. The easy, unspoken sense of privilege vanished into nothing as more hair fell away, hair that was already leaving behind dark black on Will’s head instead of the blond which carried his previous heritage with it. A couple more chops later and William was a blank slate ready for inscribing.

All the while Hassan worked, William was totally oblivious to anything besides the haircut going on with him. Hassan’s stench took care of that, working to invade his senses and further relax him. He loved the way Hassan smelled all ripe and masculine all the time, it was why he’d suggested combining a gym and barber’s to him in the first place. It didn’t matter if that memory was a new one he didn’t have before, now the delicious musk of the man working above him had pushed the idea into his head it was there to stay. He was unaware of his hair darkening with each cut, unaware too of his beard doing the same when Hassan moved around to tidy that up. The fact that his beard actually got longer and thicker when the handsome barber went to work down there was the smallest little detail he couldn’t care for, not when Hassan was hunched over with the most adorable look of concentration on his face and his armpits only inches away from William’s face.

“How’re you feeling Zaid? Good?” Hassan asked, once again giving William a soft, friendly smile from his position in front of him. “Not too long until I’m done Zaid, just got to put the finishing touches on.”

What was left of William’s mind pushed through the fog. Hassan had just called him Zaid, but that wasn’t even close to his name. But, then there was the unwavering confidence in the way he’d addressed him, as if there was no doubt in his mind that William was actually called Zaid instead.

Just when the doubt was about to push back, Hassan raised his arm and leaned over. He held onto the back of the chair and pressed William’s face directly into his sweaty pit, letting the smell drive itself up to another level. Any notion of disagreement faded away as William was forced to take a deep inhale directly from the source. He wasn’t William, there was no way someone like him would have a white man's name when he wasn’t white. That’s what the smell whispered to him on repeat with each breath in. He wasn’t William. He wasn’t white. He wasn’t average.

The only question his mind was capable of pushing back as he breathed in the intense smell was a simple one; if I’m not those things, then who am I? And the answer was far more simple and obvious, he didn’t even need to wait for a response from the smell.

He was Zaid. He was middle-eastern. He was ripped and gorgeous.

Most importantly of all, Zaid was just as much of a sweaty, gym obsessed bro as his lover was. He and Hassan loved to work up a good sweat from a workout then fuck whilst inhaling each other’s smell. Often when work was slow too, right in the middle of the gym half of the shop where anyone could walk by and see the two hunky Arabs going at it. The icing on the cake was that neither man showered all the frequently Zaid was now remembering. There hadn’t been room in the shop to install one when they’d bought it, and the one they had at home wasn’t the best quality either. So, to both men’s delight, they spent more than half the time smelling ripe and masculine.

Zaid looked up to see Hassan once again behind him, now pulling off the sheet that’d been wrapped around him. He undid the back then tugged it away to reveal the sweaty tank and shorts Zaid always loved to wear, all barely covering the massive tanned muscle of his body. For a split second he’d been confused when he saw himself, but the strange idea that he should be pale and small soon vanished as fast as it had set in. He’d been working out for years, there was no way he’d be small! And it wasn’t like he was one of those pasty white guys that thought they ruled the world, he was far more enlightened than that.

“I’m good H.” Zaid said with a reassuring smile up at Hassan. “Thanks for the trim though, felt like I was getting a little too long there.”

Hassan chuckled slightly whilst he swept away the last traces of blond hair from the floor that would give away what he’d done. “You know I’m always happy to help you Zaid, what are husbands for if not that?”

Zaid stood up, then captured Hassan’s lips in a short, sweet kiss. “I know, I know. But aren’t I allowed to be thankful for my amazing husband?”

“You are.” Hassan’s gaze turned mischievous as he set the broom aside and walked the short distance to the front door. He locked it and flipped the open sign hanging there around to the other side, then returned his mischievous gaze to Zaid. “But I’d prefer you show your thanks by fucking my ass personally. That William guy we had booked in cancelled, so we’ve got enough time free for a little fun, don’t you think?”

The mention of his former self was the last unspoken test Hassan had for Zaid. Massive changes like this one didn’t always hold steady, so one last push of that button was an important one. If Zaid didn’t flinch then he’d know he managed to pull it off, if he did flinch then Hassan would know he’d been too ambitious. Minor cosmetic changes to tidy up and perfect someone’s appearance was usually all he did as he was cutting, so such a large change as to change not only Zaid’s race, but his muscle and his memories too had been ambitious from the moment he sat down in the chair. The guy had just been so receptive to it though that he’d kept gambling and pushing things further; the hair colour became a radical change to make him an Arab, then adding the massive muscle on top of it all when he would never usually go as far as changing ethnicity.

“Then fuck that dude, he doesn’t know about the killer trim you’d give him before I set him up with a workout plan.” Zaid said, full of confidence and total ignorance to who William was. Had been. “We’ll get plenty of others through here and you know it, and we’ll help them walk out hotter people!”

Hassan let out an internal sigh of relief. It had worked after all. “You’re right, there’s going to be a lot more people walking through our door.” His eyes flicked back to the same door he’d just locked, then back at Zaid. “Right after you’ve bent me over the nearest workout bench and fucked me so we can unlock that door that is.”

Zaid stalked towards his husband and smirked. “Say no more H, say no more…” He whispered as he grabbed Hassan’s ass with two meaty hands and started to walk them backwards.

One of these days Hassan knew he’d confess all this to his new husband, but today was not that day. Today was the day they fucked on every flat surface possible, confessions could wait.

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leo-bear · 11 days

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Prelude to Acknowledging Desire

I grew up going to a small Catholic school. In communities like those, you spend over a decade with the same people, the same families, the same issues. While some want to portray it as becoming a form of family, kids are always significantly more cruel than the adults.

When kids even had a hunch I was queer before I could even come out I was ridiculed, beat, and harassed nearly every day. To mitigate it all the adults thought I should join a sport with the hopes that making the bullies my teammates they would stop hurting me.

Enter Marco.

We shared some similarities being lighter latinos, same height, dark hair, almost same body types, but wow was he so good at every sport he played. I wanted to be like him.

Having Marco made me push in every sport we did together, but I would never be as good as him. His family wanted us to be like siblings and while that did help stop the bullying for a little bit, it wouldn't stop their ruthlessness.

I think all that time we spent together kind of made me feel like we were close enough for me to tell him I began to form a crush on him but if he didn't like me back I was okay just being friends.

He told me he was straight but he was okay with being just friend. It stung for a bit but I respected it. As we got to high school, I went on my own path to a new school but we stayed in touch sometimes on social media. It's so weird to see someone you once knew becoming a new person from a distance.

Marco conquered sports throughout high school and even got a sports scholarship for a state school. I'd see his posts and lust after it. I didn't want to be like him anymore....I wanted to be him. Every new muscle fiber growth and curvature that was foreign to me in our time apart, I wanted to know it intimately from inside.

He became like a God to me...I mean look at him

I mean we still share some similarities but I didn't keep up with sports passed my first year in high school, years of sports did him so good.

Both of us left our small home town and coincidentally, if you believe it, we ended up in the same big city. I ran into him taking a selfie in a restroom at work. Our building shares space with a popular gym so it was always funny seeing such a juxtaposition in restroom goers. He didn't recognize me but I knew it was him from years of obsessing from a distance. This had to be a sign.

I pride myself on staying ready so I had spent years preparing a few ways to swap bodies and kept some on me in case someone reminded me of him or I got a little curious but here HE was, the original inspiration for my perverse desire to switch bodily vessels with someone. To know their existence, to be them to the outside world.

I fumbled in the restroom trying to get method one out of my bag, "Shit" I thought to myself it's a stone and two people have to touch it and I don't think that's happening organically here. I can't try the astral projection here because then my body would look virtually dead to anyone nearby. I had to hope this remote device I picked up from some dude online would be the way.

All I had to do was press the blue button and point it at the subject I wanted to swap with. The parameters on the device were hopefully set to swap us but make him think he had always been me. I figured if I might as well get two of my dreams to come true. So as he began to walk to the door to leave I yanked the remote out and slammed the button.

It all went dark after that, I thought. But apparently I just took a long blink because when I opened my eyes it was like that moment had just been one big pause. I was suddenly right by the restroom door. I turned around and saw my former self with a remote in hand looking embarrassed and confused.

I had done it. I was Marco Espinosa. It was turning me on knowing he was stuck inside of my old body forced to pretend to be me, so I played it up. "Are you okay dude? Shit it's so hot in here." I put on my best Marco impression with my new baritone voice reverberating in my thick muscular neck as I pulled off my sweaty shirt.

Considering I know myself, I could see the new me doing math in the moment before resigning to re-introduce themselves to me. I put on a show and told my old body I of course remembered it. That's when I decided I had him in the palm of my hand and decided to play it up. I locked the door and inched closer to my old body. "You've really grown into such a cutie." I said knowing it would turn him on.

Here was my first ever crush, my first heartbreak, coming to me telling me I was cute. I knew it would melt the old me. Using my new beefy arms I pulled my former body in for a kiss before whispering in his ear. "I want you to fuck me so bad right now."

I love subverting expectations so I could tell that would send him over the edge. I let him turn me around and bend my new muscular body over. He fumbled a little before pulling my pants down but when he did, he found his way into my new straight vigin ass and began railing me.

I may not have been as buff as Marco but I knew I had stamina. I couldn't even tell you how long we went, but I let him blow his load inside of his former self. I unlocked the restroom, we exchanged numbers and told him I'd see him around.

I can't wait to flaunt this body around.

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leo-bear · 11 days

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Wake and Fake

I ripped the covers off ready to start my day and head to work.

wait......

This isn't my room. It's so bright and my arm? It's almost kinda muscular? I haven't been to a gym since gym class in freshman year of high school?

I grab a nearby sweater and head for the door. Where am I? What's going on? I figure out how to escape the confines of this new home and look around? This isn't where I live? There's a shopping center across the way from this apartment I'm in.

My name is Erik and I've lived in the same east coast suburban family home since I was a kid. I'm lanky, tall, and the second I walk inbto the sun I'm burnt to a crisp.

But this.....this is different. I'm shorter now and tanned. I couldn't stop alternating between using one hand to squeeze my new biceps and a new (to me) inflated chest. I'm in an apartment? I don't have an apartment?

I haven't even thought to look in the mirror before I left the room. There's a phone in the pocket of these sleep pants, I whip it out and open the selfie camera.

I'm looking at a reflection I've never seen before. I'm kinda turned on. There's people near me staring back at me oddly, I guess it's sort of weird to see someone squeezing themselves like it's foreign to me. I mean it is foreign to me. OH. I got lost in the adrenaline of the unknown I didn't realize I was getting a visible hard on in public.

I darted back to the foreign apartment and grabbed some nearby keys and a wallet. Sebastían from Texas. I found this bodies drivers license. FInally at least one piece to this puzzle solved. I think I can be a Sebastían, I affirmed internally.

I went back outside and started clicking until a car beeped. This must be my new ride.

It felt like I was a kid in the candy story and all I could think about was trying these new muscles. If I was like slendermans doppelgänger before, now I was a beefier short king and it was so erotic.

I headed to the gym address on my car key chain. I wanted to test these babies out.

I got in and went to work pushing myself in a way I never could in my body. I was stacking plates on machines I'd only ever seen in social media content online. Pulling, pushing, grunting, sweating. I could probably wrap my hand around my whole arm in my old body. But this was driving me wild. The smell of my new bodies' sweat....oof

I finished and headed to a mirror room. I guess this must be for like those body builders that watch themselves make funny faces. I locked the door behind me and just started ripped the clothes I had on off.

I was salivating at every newly revealed crevice and curve. Whoever this was, he was my form of perfect. Almost as if I were on autopilot one hand went from flexing to slipping its way underneath my underwear's waistband.

The unfamiliar familiarity of my new hand touching my new self for the first time was indescribable. I hadn't even thought to take my briefs off before I was instinctually going back and forth. He was packing and I was in awe of the new experience.

Sure I was gay but I've never jerked off another guy as the other guy. I started moaning my new name in my new voice "Sebastían", pulling off a spanish pronunciation my old body could have never. I had to finally release my new friend from its fabric confines. It's a darker caramel brown, thick, and at least 9 or 10 inches. This is wild.

I kept moaning and thrusting my hips into my hand as if there's some silent song of passion playing and I'm hypnotized by its rhythm. Until it felt like a light flashed in my eyes.

I couldn't keep track of it. Pulse after pulse. Ropes and ropes of creamy fluid came flying out of my new monster. I don't know who Sebastían is but I think I'm going to like figuring it out.

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leo-bear · 13 days

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Building Each Other Up - Epilogue

Read Pt. 1 here, Pt. 2 here, Pt. 3 here, and Pt. 4 here.

Mark's (now Ali's) POV:

It's been five months since the competition, and since then, Shane agreed to move in with me. It's been great actually dating instead of just hooking up, and I couldn’t be happier.

Initially, I thought that him fucking me in that body would be a one-off thing, and we’d switch back, but we fell kinda naturally into our new roles. He fucks me so hard every night and, while he has let me top a couple of times, he’s still always definitely the dom. That’s carried over into our daily lives too. He takes care of every little thing, treating me to romantic dinners. cleaning up around the house, and spending all his money on me. Its fantastic.

But I think most of all, I am enjoying being in out and in an age-appropriate relationship with a young guy. When we walk down the street together, all anyone sees is two incredibly hot boyfriends – which is exactly what we are.

---

It was all going great until one day out of nowhere, we ran into Mark at a gay bar of all places. He was flirting with a younger guy before he caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye. I guess he liked the taste of himself when he had accidentally possessed Ali a few months ago, who would’ve thought.

I started to back away, but he caught up to me and cornered me.

"Hey, you’re that kid Ali, where the fuck is Shane … I mean Mark," he yelled at me.

I kind of timidly backed into the corner by the bathrooms, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

Shane, my savior, immediately noticed my distress and left the bar to come to my rescue.

"Babe, is there a problem here?" he said, his voice calm but firm.

Mark turned around and saw Shane standing menacingly behind him, his arms crossed over his chest and a steely glint in his eyes.

"Fuck, I knew I’d find you eventually," said Mark, his voice dripping with anger.

Without hesitation, he whipped out a small vial from his pocket and downed it immediately before quickly latching onto Shane's back.

"Give me back my body!" he yelled, his voice desperate and frantic.

A look of shock crossed Mark’s face as he realized that he wasn't sinking into Shane's body as he had expected.

"What the fuck, dude?" Shane exclaimed, throwing him off. "You gotta get a grip."

Mark stumbled backward, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "What did you do?" he asks, his confusion evident in his voice.

Shane smirks, his gaze unwavering as he meets Mark's eyes. "Ohhh, you must be Mark," he says. "Ali said you'd show up sooner or later. Too bad your potions won’t work."

---

You see, a few weeks after we swapped, I asked Ali if he wanted to swap back. I explained that my "former trainer Mark" was crazy and had managed to convince himself that my body was actually his and would not stop reaching out to me, trying to take it back. I was managing it, but if he was in "my" body instead, it would be even more difficult to manage.

In no uncertain terms, he told me no to swapping back. I understood. That body and the power it had was intoxicating. And honestly, I didn’t mind being his super perfect boyfriend—I mean look how cute I am.

"Okay," I said, accepting his decision, "then we need to seal ourselves in."

I had done a fair amount of research on a new potion that would make us impervious to the effects of the original. I handed him a vial and said, "If you're sure this is what you want."

He downed it without hesitation, and I downed mine as well. He pulled me in for a passionate kiss and said, "I love you, Ali."

"I love you too, Shane," I replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

----

"Dude, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is my body. You need to get lost," said Shane, his voice firm and commanding.

In that moment, Mark shot me a knowing look. If his body didn’t know who he was, then I must be the one he was really looking for. He quickly ran and attempted jump into me instead, which only threw me back against the wall. The force of the impact knocked the breath out of me, and I struggled to regain my bearings.

That was enough to grab the attention of the bouncers. Shane quickly restrained Mark until they grabbed him and were able to lead him out of the club.

Shane rushed back over to me, concern etched on his face. "Babe, are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for any signs of injury.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I reassured him, forcing a smile despite the lingering soreness. "I'm just gonna use the restroom real quick."

He nodded, his expression still tinged with worry. "Okay, I'll be waiting out here for you."

As I collected myself inside the restroom, I quickly dropped the worried look and smirked to myself. My sealing potion had worked for both of us. Mark wouldn’t be causing us any problems, and I was free to enjoy the hunky boyfriend I had built for myself carefree.

I raised my phone up to take a quick selfie, capturing the moment as a reminder of my victory. Fuck, the best is only yet to come.

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leo-bear · 15 days

Text

Building Each Other Up Pt. 3

Read Pt. 1 here and Pt. 2 here.

Shane’s POV

‘I'm not kidding, Mark. I wanna swap back,’ I angrily texted. I stared at the screen, waiting for the blue bubble to pop up and signal the message had gone through. Instead, my message popped up green with a little red circle saying ‘Not Delivered.’

“Fuck, did that asshole block me?” I muttered to myself, feeling a surge of anger.

It had been almost two weeks since Mark forced me out of my own body and into his, which meant he had been controlling my body full time for almost a month. At first, I thought I could handle it. And despite the bullshit he pulled, I wanted to trust him. But now, it was clear that he was enjoying my life a little too much.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic. It hadn't been the worst experience being in Mark’s body again. I had enjoyed indulging in some cheat foods and cigars I hadn’t been allowing myself, and I still managed to pull girls without much effort (I mean Mark was still a good looking guy). There was even a nostalgic element to being back in his body after so long.

But the bodybuilding competition was tomorrow. I had been working towards this for so long, and the thought of not competing in my own body was infuriating.

Grabbing my phone again, I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. "Damn it, Mark! Answer your fucking phone!" I shouted, slamming it down on the counter.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands," I muttered to myself.

Mark had mentioned earlier this week that he needed to make more of the potion. He said it was a bit of an involved process, but with the competition coming up, he just didn't have the time. I knew better. I'd made the potion with him a few times, and while it was a bit complicated, it didn't take that long. Maybe two to three hours tops.

"Alright," I said to myself. "It doesn't seem like I'm getting any help from him, so I guess I'll just make some on my own."

After rummaging through the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, I found everything I needed. I set up in the kitchen, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and frustration. As I started cooking, memories of the first time we made the potion together came flooding back. We were both so excited about getting me some gains back then.

Following the steps carefully, I mixed the ingredients, heating them just right on the stove. After about two and a half hours, I had a batch of the potion ready. It wasn’t quite the right color – a bit more greenish than usual – but I had followed all the steps correctly.

"Good enough," I said, pouring the potion into a vial.

I made my way over to my apartment, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. Mark had insisted we go about our routines as normally as possible to avoid raising suspicion, but I knew that if I was going to get my body back, I had to act quickly.

As I approached the door, I fished out the vial of potion from my pocket. "No sense in asking him to swap back if he’s been avoiding me," I muttered to myself. I took a deep breath and downed the potion in one go, the familiar bitter taste washing over my tongue.

I entered the key code and opened the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear movement in the bedroom, the sound of my own footsteps pacing around. Mentally preparing myself, I quietly made my way towards the noise.

I run in there and dive into my back. Except, once inside, I realize immediately that something is wrong. I'm not in control. I'm just a passenger in this body. Panic sets in as I shout in my head, "Mark, you fucker, what did you do?" But there's no reply. Shit, he can't hear me.

I feel myself walk over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Except it isn't me. It's some random kid. Who the fuck is this, I think to myself.

Not only did I make the potion wrong, I jumped into some random guy. And who the hell is he? Why is he alone in my apartment? My mind races with confusion and dread.

I hear the door open again and watch as my old self – Mark in my body – walks into the room.

"Hey babe," he says, his voice filled with affection as he pulls me in for a tender kiss. I'm shocked, but I can't do anything to resist.

"How was the gym?" I hear my body ask, its voice sounding strangely detached from my own thoughts.

"Oh, great," Mark responds, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I think I'm in great shape for the competition." He flexes his muscles for emphasis. "But I'm still feeling a bit stressed," he adds, smirking at me seductively, walking to the bathroom and quickly indulging in some pump selfies.

I feel myself following him into the bathroom, my body moving on its own accord. I know what’s about to happen Panic sets in as I try to turn off my subconscious, but it's no use, I'm trapped.

I watch as my body turns on the water, and Mark looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Before we get in, I know how much you like my post-workout musk," he says with a smirk.

Despite my internal protests, I also feel a strange sense of anticipation. Mark pulls my head towards his armpit. I take a deep inhale and then begin to lick, finding it surprisingly tolerable. The taste is musky and slightly salty, but not as overpowering as I feared.

Once the shower is nice and steamy, we step in, enveloped in the warmth and the mist swirling around us. My new body takes the lead, its hands gliding over Mark’s – I mean my body’s – skin, caressing every curve and contour with the gentle pressure of the sudsy soap and the softness of the loofah. His muscles relax under my touch, and a contented sigh escapes his lips as I lavish attention on him.

Then, it's Mark's turn to return the favor. My body tries to make itself look as sexy as possible for him.

He turns me around, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he runs the loofah over my skin. I close my eyes, lost in the sensation of his hands caressing me, focusing on the way his fingers linger on my ass.

When he squeezes and playfully slaps my ass, I'm taken aback by the surge of arousal that washes over me. My heart races as I feel myself growing excited at his touch, unable to control the growing heat between my legs.

"Fuck," I feel my voice mutter, the intensity of the moment clearly overwhelming the guy in control of this body. If this didn’t fell so good, I would’ve realized that I’d never felt aroused by another guy when I had controlled Mark’s body

As Mark's hard cock pressed against my eager hole, a jolt of conflicting emotions surged through me. “I can’t be here for this,” I thought to myself, trying and failing again to retreat to my subconscious.

Then, finally, I felt the exhilarating sensation of him entering me.

Despite my initial resistance, a wave of unexpected pleasure washed over me, leaving me stunned by the intensity of the experience.

"Fuck," I thought, momentarily forgetting who I even actually was.

The sensation of being filled by my former cock was overwhelming. I find myself lost in the moment, my body eagerly responding to his every touch and thrust. I can’t deny the pleasure coursing through my veins as he drives into me.

As the pleasure builds to a crescendo, I feel myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, my mind consumed by the raw intensity of the experience.

“Unghhhh Shane” I hear my voice moan uncontrollably.

That definitely got a reaction out of him. He starts thrusting into me even deeper.

“Wait,” I thought, “he’s not just enjoying this kids admittedly built body … is he getting off on being me?”

“Fuck yeah, keep saying daddy’s name” he replies.

“Fuck me harder Shane,” I hear my voice beg.

Finally, with a guttural groan, Mark reaches his peak, his hot cum flooding into me, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body. I feel myself clenching around him, my own release echoing his as we both ride the waves of pleasure to completion.

As we catch our breath, Mark pulls away, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Basking in the physical afterglow, I find myself struggling to come to terms with what just happened.

“That was another great one, babe. Your ass is so incredible,” he says, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

“Thanks, babe,” my body responds automatically, a smile forming on my lips as I lean in for another kiss under the warm cascade of water.

I had a million questions still racing around my head – “who is this kid”, “why can’t he hear me”, “how can I get my body back” – but one thought dominates above all others: When can I do that again?

To Be Continued ...

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leo-bear · 15 days

Text

Feeling Myself

I’m really feeling myself in this new bodysuit, and by myself, I mean Aiden.

He had just graduated and decided to take an Uber to a house party. He thought he had something to celebrate. But he wasn’t quite himself when he got to the party.

I was his driver. It was so easy to give him his injection. He insisted on sitting in the front seat to chat. I always have an injection ready. A swift jab and a look of betrayal later I had a bodysuit ready to be worn as my copilot.

Now that his body is mine, I can feel his cocky attitude, and I can own it now.

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leo-bear · 22 days

Text

Arab Uber

Benji peered down at his phone, 12:03 PM, “I hope the car gets here soon Im gonna be late for lunch with my boyfriend” he thought to himself. Just as he thought that, Benji watched as his Uber pulled up to the curb. Benji stepped up to the car and the passenger side window rolled down, “Uber for Benji” the driver said out of the window. As soon as Benji opened his mouth to confirm he smelled an awful stench rushing from the car, it smelled like used gym clothes, cum, foul-smelling shoes, and strong B.O. which has fruitlessly tried to be covered up with A.X.E Body Spray. Benji held back a gag as he told the driver “Yea, that’s me”.

Benji got into his driver’s car, “So Yahya, how long have you uhhh been doing this for?” Benji asked, trying to make some small talk, “I’ve been doing this only for like a week or somethin bro, gotta pay for my gym membership somehow” Yahya remarked. As Benji and Yahya continued to exchange basic info about their lives through the small talk they were having, Benji began to slowly slur his words a bit, “Yo-… youuu do anythi-…anything else for work?”. Yahya excitedly responded “Oh yea bro I make gym content for my Tiktok”, it made sense to Benji given that his car smelled like the inside of an unwashed gym bro’s armpit. At a certain point in the ride Yahya asked where Benji was specifically going, “Oh, I am goi-…goin over to my bro-… uhh boyfriend’s place”, Yahya jokingly asked “A boyfriend? I didn’t think guys like us were fairies and shit!”. Benji, reasonably offended, said “What do you mean guys like us?!” to which Yahya said “You know dude…big beefy Muslim boys like us are supposed to have wives and girlfriends, not fooling around with other men!”, “Big beefy Muslim boys? I don’t kno-…know if uhh you are like blind or…uhh something but I am white…” replied Benji. “Not for long…” Benji heard Yahya say under his breath as he pulled over. Looking around Benji realized that somehow Yahya had driven him to a secluded area and it was quickly starting to get dark out. Benji asked himself how he didn’t notice that he had essentially been kidnapped and how had it gotten so late?!

Benji reached for the door handle to find that it was locked, he looked at the door handle just to immediately have his face grabbed and forced into a kiss with Yahya. “WH- WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!” snapped Benji as he pushed Yahya away, “It’s okay just calm down no need to be so fiesty, soon this and your gaybo life will be just a fuzzy memory” Yahya said as if it he didn’t just kiss his passenger. Yahya grabbed the back of Benji’s head and expected to be forced into another kiss Benji squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly his lips weren’t met with the slightly funky breath and chapped lips of his straight Arabian driver, they were instead met with the slick and sweaty forests of malodorous hair inhabiting the source of why the car smelled so foul. Caught off guard Benji gasped which let in a torrent of Yahya’s spicy B.O. rush up Benji’s delicate nose. Pulling Benji’s face out of his foul pits Yahya looked at Benji and said, “Nice and dazed, just how i like em” and shoved Benji back into his pit for just enough time to hear Benji take a deep whiff. “Awwww” Yahya said to the now drooling Benji, “You like this don't you bro?”, Benji slowly and silently answered with a weak nod. Yahya spoke again “Now, if you want more of my masculine musk, you are gonna have to listen to me bro and follow my orders”, again all Benji did was barely nod his drooping head. “Good Arab boys are gym rats”, Benji felt as suddenly he felt too big for his clothes. He could hear the seams of his pants and shirt ripping as his muscles grew but he couldn’t comprehend why. Yahya said it again but more stern this time, “Good Arab boys are gym rats”, and Benji felt as his clothes strained a little bit more as his body grew. “Good. Arab. Boys. Are. Gym. Rats.” Yahya said one last time and suddenly as if his clothes popped off of his body, Benji was sitting in just his sneakers, socks and underwear looking yearningly with his muscular body at Yahya’s stinking armpit.

Lifting up his arm to reveal his pit, Yahya placed Benji back inside but pulled him out only a handful of seconds later and said “Good Arab boys have olive skin” and as like magic, from the center of Benji’s chest spread a splotch of light olive. After it had enveloped his whole body Yahya looked at Benji and said “Tsk…Good Arab boys have olive skin” and again from the same spot, the epicenter of his chest, spread a darker coating of olive colored skin. Giving Benji what he wanted, Yahya rewarded him with half a minute in his pit. Quickly after he was pulled out Benji heard, “Good Arab boys have hairy armpits and big, hairy feet”, and as soon as Yahya stopped talking Benji felt his armpits grow incredibly itchy and his feet did the same as they also started to cramp. Yahya looked on proudly as Benji reached his right hand up into his right armpit like a caveman and began wildly scratching at the hair coming in.

Yet again rewarded with the malodorous prison that would be tortured to any sane person, Yahya gave another command, “Good Arab boys are dumb and dominant” Benji suddenly, after hearing this command tried to push away again, but Yahya said it louder. “GOOD ARAB BOYS ARE DUMB AND DOMINANT”. Just as quick as his resistance started it suddenly stopped and Yahya watched as Benji’s beautiful brown eyes grew a little duller with every passing second signaling the improvements Benji was making. “Good Arab boys are close minded” Yahya said, Benji felt in his hardly working brain his whole political and social ideology do a full 180, going from a self-described hardcore leftist to a right wing Trumpy. Yahya heard Benji let out a little grunt showing that he had listened to Yahya, as a reward Benji got more time in the bushy abyss. Taking Benji out again Yahya commanded “Good Arab boys only like to conquer pussy”, Benji began to have a stream of drool flow out of his mouth as his homosexuality evaporated and turned into a bad memory. To test if it had truly been followed, Yahya said “Cock”…nothing, then he said “Tits” and BOOM Benji’s dick sprang to life, “Huhuhuh good” Yahya quietly said to himself. “Good Arab boys are always horny” as soon as he said it, Yahya felt as the dazed and dumbed down Benji began mindlessly humping the air with his hard-on standing at full mast. As he kept humping, Yahya saw as a lustful look overtook Benji’s eyes as his brain was flooded with images of bouncing boobs and wet pussy. Yahya, almost finished with Benji’s transformation said

“Good Arab boys touch their cock whenever they want” and within seconds Benji’s hand shot down into his underwear and he began ferociously fist fucking his big manly hand. As Benji began to fuck his hand faster and faster and as the car began to shake back and forth do to Benji’s violent thrusting, Yahya watched as Benji grew closer and closer to beriding the world of Benji and birthing into the world Basir, a new Arab bro for Yahya to workout with. “mmmmmmuuuUUUGGHHH” and with one last thrust and a deep guttural moan, Benji was just a cum splatter on Yahya’s dashboard.

Basir dumbly asked “Broooo…what just like uhhh happened?” and Yahya just threw some dirty gym clothes at him and said nothing. They got back on the road and headed to the gym.

After a hot and sweaty workout shesh, Basir looked at his phone and saw a text from “Babe <3”, Yahya saw and before he could open it he said “Good Arab boys reek of masculinity” and immediately Basir smelled the aroma of his funky armpits and the cheese-like fragrance rising out of his worn gym shoes. His dumb mind curious, he lifted his arm, took a deep whiff, and everything except for the gym and his stinky bro Yahya was wiped out of his mind.

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leo-bear · 28 days

Text

Stuck For The Semester: Post-Pandemic

Catch up on Part 1 & Part 2

Elton:

“Peter Thomas?”

“Yes, I'm okay!” I replied to Professor David.

I know it's been a few years since we last caught up following our class semester swap that got caught up by a global p*ndemic.

The university agreed, without our consent, to continue the experiment for longer than it's ever been done with the hope that it would help the scientific community.

Unfortunately for some of us, it had adverse effects.

Several students experienced swaps where the original bodies personalities began to overtake their own, eventually leading to them believing they had always been in that body.

After almost a year and a half when we finally got to return to campus, Professor David came to me to "break the news".

"Elton" did not want to swap back because he didn't believe he ever swapped to begin with.

So I was now Peter Thomas...who didn't even have a plan for his life despite being in school. So the professor offered me a future. Join him as a teaching assistant and help him with future swaps, and here we are a few years later where I help him "teach", but I had my own motives.

Enter the star athlete of the newest batch of students. Shi.

Shi:

Being a college athlete, the universities pave the way to make graduating as EASY as possible for us, but we still have to go to at least one class.

I kinda failed at even doing that.

So my advisor and this one professor came up with the idea that if I take part in this one major experimental class I could be covered for the semester. I said yes, no questions asked.

When I walked in that first day, I just sat back and thought I would coast through napping.

As I dosed off, I heard someone up front yapping about learning from past experiments and saying swaps begin on day 1 now.

That's when a hand shook up and I was ripped awake.

This guy that was upfront with the professor named Peter said the class had an odd number so we ended up partners.

"BODY SWAPPING for the SEMESTER?" I knew they had to be joking.

My advisor said I couldn't drop the class....I was stuck.

I walk over to an empty pod....sigh...I guess it could be interesting to see what it's like to be a little white guy. Plus at least it looks like he kind of knows how to work out.

A bright light flashes and soon everything went black.

Elton:

I held my eyes shut and tried to hold in my excitement.

I had worked with the advisors to get the class hard cap at an odd number so I would be forced to take part in the swaps once again. I had to do it to make sure I could corner Shi into swapping with me.

What gay guy wouldn't want to experience being inside such a hunk of a man.

I felt butterflies in my stomach and opened my eyes. I looked down at my hands… strong, calloused, fingers with perfectly cut nails… they're Shi's hands.

I knew the routine. I could hear my last body waking up and Professor David got closer to him to help him on his journey.

But he knows I've been through this rodeo before and clumsily darted to the door to head to the restroom. I locked myself into the single restroom, and ripped my shirt off...I couldn't believe my reflection.

I had so much energy, is this what it's like to be a real athlete? After popping Peter's cherry, my perverted mind drifted into thinking about all the things I'd have Shi do for the first time. Immediately opening the app store to download Grindr.

This body wasn't ready to take all the d^ck I was gonna get with it.

Shi:

Waking up felt like a hangover. Not like a headache, just the disorienting part.

The professor was talking to me about something but I had to take a piss so bad.

I went down the hall to the restroom and began to pee. Damn this kid's not as big as I am down there but surprisingly long? I guess he's me for the time being. Shit I have to go to practice...coach is going to kill me if I'm late one more time.

Wait. I don't have to go to practice for the semester. I gotta find my body to make sure he goes to the field.

Shit this kid's hard now. I don't wanna jerk off some random white guy.

I just started pumping out of spite, but damn this dude is sensitive. I don't usually moan like this but this body had an immediate reaction to my stroking. I tried to hold it in but all I could do was loudly moan.

I know I was in public but I just couldn't stop it. This body didn't want to finish but when I finally climaxed, it went everywhere. I scrambled to clean it up and that's when my phone vibrated.

A notification from....Grindr. Oh this dude's gay. It's from an account with no name and no profile picutre....wait.

THAT'S ME!?

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leo-bear · 29 days

Text

The Masquerade, an interactive story

Outline

Welcome, to “The Masquerade, An Interactive Story”. A tale following a a college professor named John Miller who end up entering a store with a mysterious store clerk and very curious masks. Choose wisely as your decision would determine his destiny.

Here is the complete outline of the story:

Chapter 1: A Weird Store

—– Chapter 2a: Big Man on Town

———- Chapter 3a: A Heroic Act

—————-Chapter 4a: South of the border

—————-Chapter 4b: The Last Mask

———- Chapter 3b: A Deal with the Devil

—————-Chapter 4c: Tom

—————-Chapter 4d: Rotten

—– Chapter 2b: On the School Halls

———- Chapter 3c: Behind his Face

—————-Chapter 4e: TJ's Perspective

—————-Chapter 4f: John's Perspective

———- Chapter 3d: Scandal

—————-Chapter 4g: Torment

—————-Chapter 4h: The New Boss

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leo-bear · 1 month

Text

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“C’mon, it could be fun!”

“Yeah,” Jerry retorted. “It could be extremely dangerous too.”

Jerry and I had been a pretty steady couple for almost two years now. An interconnected friend had introduced the two of us and we’d hit it off like some cheap rom-com. Seriously, it was insane how fast we had fallen for each other. Usually blind dates turn out to be trash, but Jerry was a treasure. A gymnast at 5’8, he was practically the perfect bottom for any man, which was why I originally found it funny that he wanted to invest his time in a vers like me. To be fair, I am fairly attractive with my 6’0 twunky build and blond locks, but I wasn’t as lovely as him.

Now, just because he was lovely did not mean he was perfect. Certainly after all this time I’d discovered a few of his faults. We’d grown as tight as two peas in a pod, relishing in each other’s company and exchanging basically every secret over our time spent together, including our kinks. Mine ranged from tight spandex to watersports, while it would be generous to say he had a range. Jerry was 100% vanilla, and it wasn’t until I forced him to take a few BDSM tests that he realized truly how sexually safe he was. His ideas of original ideas of sex were as Christian as they came, as least if one ignores that pesky gay factor. TO put it all simply, I was Christian Grey, and he was my very own Anastasia Steele.

I hope I’ve made my use of the past tense fairly obvious up to this point. When we had originally revealed our sexual interests, both of us were content with our different standards, but apparently my kink flexibility had bothered Jerry. A month after our original conversation, I was leading Jerry into our shared room when he uttered that he wanted to try something new. He delicately paced over to a cabinet and opened a drawer, revealing a pair of handcuffs inside it. My eyes immediately lit up, but I took a few breaths to calm myself down. I was extremely elated and aroused, but if Jerry wanted to experiment, I’d have to go slow.

Jerry’s made it a long way since his vanilla-self a few months ago. Since that first encounter, we’ve tried out other forms of bondage, leather, and even diapers. We’d been getting pretty close to some of the much grittier elements, so I decided that it might be a good idea to go big or go home with our next experimentation. Body modifications had always been a fascination of mine, but never a serious thought for Jerry. I didn’t want to push him into anything, but I was planning on enticing him with a deal. If he was willing to get some form of body modification, I would take him on a trip for our 2-year anniversary. One may say it was kind of a douche move and yes, I would agree with you, but I was desperate. So that’s where we were now, Jerry trying to figure out if I was incredibly crafty or pushing my luck.

“I’m really not sure about this,” he mumbled.

“I know,” I replied. “That’s why I added the vacation as a thank you. But if you decline, I’ll still make our anniversary special.”

Jerry played with a spoon in his hands while looking at his açaí bowl emotionlessly. I could tell he was lost inside his head. I thought he was going to reject my proposal until the unexpected happened.

“Where would you intend to go for this trip?”

“Panama Beach.” I tried to hide my eager grin as I felt the mood in the room flip.

“And how long would it be?”

“Four nights.”

“And on what level would I be spoiled?”

“Superfluously.”

He stirred his bowl once more before continuing the interrogation.

“You have a procedure in mind, don’t you.”

“You know me so well,” I coyly responded as I turned my laptop towards him.

“ScrotamPlus?!” Jerry exclaimed a little too loudly. After sending an acknowledgement of apology to nearby strangers, he shot me a fierce look. “Out of everything, I thought you would have wanted a bigger butt.”

“I thought about it, but I was curious,” I countered. “Plus, this is much easier to remove if something ends poorly.”

“Ah, thanks for mentioning that possibility,” he snarked glumly. “The last thing I would need is a botched scrotox.”

I choked a little on my smoothie, laughing internally at the thought. Jerry continued searching through the website, scrolling his way through different FAQs and procedural tips.

“Is this something you really want?” he finally asked after a few more minutes had passed.

“Only if you want to,” I answered. “I know you want to expand your horizons, and I think this would be a good next step.”

“Silicone injections into my balls?”

“Only if you want to,” I repeated. “I’m not forcing anything.”

Jerry grabbed a fork and started poking at his bowl once more, only this time after a few minutes he raised his head to give me a look of surrender. I’m not gonna lie, it may have been one of the cutest faces he’s ever made for me.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” I grinned, leaning over for a kiss in excitement. This was going to be awesome! “We leave on Thursday.”

“That soon?”

“I said this was an anniversary trip didn’t I?”

“And you already have all the reservations made?”

“Yes sir.”

Jerry gave me a comprehending look. “You knew I was going to cave, didn’t you?”

“I know how to get my man what he wants,” I replied, getting up from the table to throw out my trash. Before I left, I quickly added, “to get what I want.”

I heard a string of cuss words follow behind me as I cockily strolled away.

— —

“Alright, are you sure about this?” I asked, the needle in hand.

We had gotten to our hotel about an hour before, landing in the airport around 10 o’clock. It was already pretty dark everywhere, making it hard for us to see any of the sandy beaches and palm trees I had promised. Once we’d made it to our room, we’d ordered pizza and vegged out on our king-sized bed. It had been a pretty relaxing hour for me, but I think it was a little nerve-racking for Jerry. We had originally planned to use ScrotamPlus on our last day, but Jerry asked if we could do the procedure tonight just to get it over with.

The kit didn’t have too many materials–the simplicity of it all actually shocked me. Inside the box laid a pretty short needle, two cartridges filled with the silicone, and a single vial of white liquid. The procedure only required a few short steps. First, I had to prepare the area, sanitizing and removing any hair within the targeted patch. Secondly, I had to pierce the skin and inject one of the two silicone bases. Once that was finished, it was my job to delicately keep the needle in place while I switched out the empty silicone container with the vial. Finally, the whitish fluid would be injected to activate the silicone and the process would be over. Currently, Jerry and I were at the second step.

“Yes,” Jerry said confidently. “I can do this.”

“But do you want to?” I pushed, making sure this was his decision and not mine. He thought it over quickly and nodded an affirmative. With that, I pushed the needle into his skin.

“Oh!” he yelped in surprise. The puncture should have been much more painful, but the ScrotamPlus package had stated its sanitation materials had quite a lot of numbing chemicals. It took me a few moments to get the silicone injected, causing Jerry to laugh.

“Ugh, my balls feel so full,” he grumbled loosely.

Once I had finished with that, I quickly switched out the container with the vial. Just looking at Jerry’s testicles now I could tell there was a difference. They were already a little plumper and (by Jerry’s testimony) heavier. Even some of the usual wrinkles had disappeared due to the bloated mass.

I slowly pumped the white fluid in, not really understanding why it was needed. According to the package, it was an activation agent, but I didn’t think silicone would need activation. Not only that, but I didn’t really understand the point of the second silicone base. My questions didn’t matter however because as fast as the process had started, the vial was empty and I was removing the needle. I smoothly put the provided bandage in place and brought an eager smile to Jerry.

“Is it over?” he inquired.

“Sure is, baby,” I responded, kissing him before moving under the sheets beside him. “Now, we wait ‘till the morning.”

Jerry, feeling content with how fluidly the procedure had carried out, snuggled up beside me and fell asleep almost instantly. All that pent-up stress must have really worn him out. I soon followed, cupping his heated, hefty sac delightedly before also drifting away.

— —

Waking up, the last thing I expected to feel was alone. I only now realized how massive the bed was with only my body inside of it. After a little tossing and turning, I finally managed to wrangle myself free from the sheets and comforter. Grabbing a stray shirt to cover myself at least partially, I noticed the clock read that it was pretty close to eight in the morning. Looking out the nearby window, I could tell the sun had already started its daily duties. The dining hall wouldn’t open for another hour, so I decided that I would clean up before trying to find Jerry.

After a warm shower and putting on a fresh set of clothes, I wandered out of the bathroom to notice a note taped to the bedside table. It seemed pretty large, which made it surprising that I didn’t see it before. The note itself read:

Morning dude! Woke up kinda early so headed to beach. I be back around 8, but if wake up–come find me!

Overall, the note didn’t seem like Jerry’s work. The handwriting was a sharp downgrade from Jerry’s usual style, giving a more carefree and symbolic take to the English language. The noticeable grammatical issues were also fairly strange, but I rationalized that all of the quirks were due to Jerry being in a rush. Checking myself one last time in the mirror at the door, I snatched my room key and headed out to find Jerry.

My entire descent through the hotel and out towards the beach was uncharacteristically easy. One would expect to see a resort bustling and lively at almost any hour, but apparently I had hit a barren timeframe. Even in an empty wasteland however, I struggled to find Jerry. Out of the entire empty hotel and beach, I didn’t see my cute little gymnast, let alone another human being. It wasn’t until I went out to the water that I actually found someone.

“Hey!” I shouted, noticing the man from afar. Sitting on a flight of wooden steps that led down to the beach, he seemed like a powerful alpha male. He was wearing a teal tee and a pair of tight, red khaki shorts that were stretched against both of his mighty thighs. His jaw was fairly carved, and I could see two gargantuan feet from still yards away. All in all, he seemed pretty intimidating. Noticing I was calling to him, he quickly responded.

“Hey, you found me!”

His smile of recognition did not match my look of bewilderment. After a few moments of awkward silence, I finally figured out who I was talking to.

“Jerry?”

“Who else would it be?” His deep baritone voice replied, an incredibly different tone than the Jerry I knew. There were plenty of other differences as well: the much-extended height, the more muscular figure, the hair. Jerry barely had to shave before, but this man was clearly hirsute. Even the hair on his head had grown out a little, along with bushier eyebrows and a full-out beard. His entire stature had shifted too, making him appear much more bulkier with thicker legs and a wider jaw.

Looking a little closer, I realized the clothes Jerry was wearing were my own. The shirt that held so tightly to his upper arms never looked that good on my own, and until now I hadn’t been able to see the front of the shorts.

“Jerry,” I cautiously began. “Your balls.”

They were huge. Literally, there was a gigantic sac cupped inside of the shorts. They were definitely going to be stretched to the extent I wouldn’t be able to wear them again.

“Arre they not incrredible?” I was too busy admiring the hefty pouch that I missed the fact he had rolled his r’s.

“So…” I mumbled, trying to wrap my head around the situation. “Do you…do you think this is all a side effect of the ScrotamPlus?”

“I assume so?” he replied honestly. “I guess biggerr balls means morre testosterrone prroduction, rright?”

“And an accent too?” I noted, finally picking up and acknowledging it.

“What do you mean?” Jerry gave me a quizzical look. I thought about pushing further, but I decided to ignore it. All of these changes were insane but maybe Jerry was right. The website seemed totally legit, and the company was approved by a lot of organizations. Jerry’s nonchalant attitude towards the situation must have made me feel a lot more comfortable than I should have.

Not only that, but I was beginning to think less with my head. Unsurprisingly, my cock was slowly gaining control of the situation. The completely new man in front of me was blocking out all rational thought. I should have been much, much more concerned over Jerry, but instead I wanted to try the new him out.

“What do you say we head back to our room?” I asked, extending my palm forward and not-so-subtly fondling his pouch. The new weight was surely impressive.

“I don’t think so,” he replied nervously before pushing my hand away. I was caught off guard by the look of distress that had plastered itself across his face. I was also shocked by the amount of force that came out of his hand. It seemed a little more powerful than “get out of my no-no square”, as if there was a deeper meaning behind it.

“Is something wrong?”

“No…no I just…” he stammered, which came off as incredibly odd in his new macho form.

“It’s ok.” I sat down next to him and side-hugged him, trying to soothe him. His new form had an interesting musk that I couldn’t smell until now, almost woodsy. My attempt to console him was rejected however, as I get pushed away and was once again greeted with a disgusted look.

“I’m just not feeling good,” he stated firmly. “I think I want to go out today. Away from the hotel.”

“Alright,” I quickly replied. “We can do whatever you want. There’s a nice mall down by-”

“I want to go alone.”

His words were so strong I felt almost like I had been slapped in the face.

“Alone?”

“Yes, uh…” he tried to rebound, noticing I had taken offense. “You have given me such a great anniverrsarry gift, I feel like mine doesn’t comparre. I want to make it up to you and get you something morre.”

“Oh, honey.” I didn’t try to touch him this time, but yet he still grimaced. “That’s so sweet of you, but you don’t have to do that. You already did something great for me.” I guided my eyes down to his swollen pouch.

“No, I do.” His firm proclamation was emphasized as he stood up, displaying his new height for all to see. He was definitely taller than me now. “I’ll see you laterr tonight with the prresent.”

“Tonight?” I called as he started to walk off. “Are you sure? What will you be doing all day?”

“You’ll see!” he shouted back. Although Jerry was now a much larger presence, he disappeared much faster than I could have expected. It almost felt like he was trying to get away from me.

— —

Honestly, the rest of the day went by hastily. I felt bad that I didn’t reach out to Jerry once in the morning, afternoon, or evening, but I thought it might be best to leave him alone. He was practically given an entirely new body from the ScrotamPlus, so it made sense that he’d want some time to be with himself. I assumed the new gift story was just to be nice to me, but his uncharacteristic behavior had definitely puzzled me. It wasn’t until around 10 that he texted me to come to our room for a surprise. I had been moping on a barstool for the last hour, so I think the bartender must have been exceptionally delighted to see me leave, especially because I hadn’t ordered a single drink.

Walking into our room, I was greeted by some dimmed lights and closed curtains. Taking my shoes off, I noticed Jerry had left out a what I presumed was a little pregame gift for me in the kitchen. On the dining table sat a tall glass of champagne and a note. Picking up the glass first and taking a few sips, I grabbed the note and read it over.

Funtime now. Drik up than sex.

Once again, the handwriting was completely off, more than last time. This morning’s masterpiece looked like elementary work, but now it was just straight caveman. Not only was Jerry’s writing awful, but his grammar too. I even tried to ignore the spelling, but it was just too funny. It was too insane to be real, so I just chuckled as I drank some more of the champagne. Noticing the door was closed to the bedroom, I was delighted to see a strip of light shining from underneath it. Strutting forward, I gracefully chugged the last of the champagne and swung open the gateway. Before I could catch myself, the empty champagne glass fell to the floor and shattered.

“J-J-Jerry?” The words barely escaped my mouth.

“Geetesh,” the man in front of me corrected. The man who was most definitely not Jerry. The man who was currently sitting on the king-sized bed imprisoning one of my pillows and wearing nothing but a pair of black Calvin Kleins–my Calvin Kleins. The only reason I could tell it was him was because he was wearing the smart watch I had gotten him for our first anniversary, but that argument was assuredly not solid.

“What…what…” I was mentally falling apart, unable to understand the scene in front of me. “How did this happen?”

“How deed vat happen?”

“This!” I blurted out, carefully stepping over the glass and climbing next to him in the bed. Getting closer to him caused me to once again encountered his musk, only this time it was much more potent and had a curryish flavor to it.

“You are…you look…”

“Zo much bedderr,” Geetesh finished. “Dankz do diz.” He brought one of his palms down to cup his inflated sac graciously. And by palms, I mean one of his two meaty, hairy paws. And by his inflated sac, I mean the massive moose knuckle that was being formed by the too-small boxer-briefs–another item of clothing I probably wouldn’t be able to wear again.

“But Jerry-”

“Geetesh.”

“Geetesh,” I decided to play along. “You look totally different! I mean…” I stumbled off as I truly looked over all the changes myself. First off, he was no longer white. Assuming based off of the accent and his new name the body had to have origins in India. Because of this, his body’s features had matched accordingly. Darker and thicker hair, lusciously tanned skin, bulkier body proportions. His monstrous thighs from this morning had somehow grown even larger, and his pecs had also pushed out slightly. I hadn’t seen his torso before but now there was a proudly blooming muscle gut. His biceps and triceps had expanded, his calves and further developed, and even his feet had extended out to what must have been Size 15 at least. I had yet to even mention the further-structured jaw and deeper voice.

“But dey arre good chayngez, हां?”

“हां?” I mimicked back. Not only had his body changed, but it must have affected his mind and personality too. This morning he was just rolling his r’s, but now Jerry had a full on accent–and he could even speak what I assumed was Hindi now too?

“Geetesh,” I started slowly. “You understand that something has gone terribly wrong here, right?” Although the man sitting beside me looked and acted completely different from my boyfriend, I still felt a strong connection and responsibility for him.

“Vat iz vrrong?” he countered innocently. “मुझे अच्छा लगता है.”

“But this isn’t you.”

“Diz iz not Jerrree” he corrected, butchering his former name in the process. “I am Geetesh.”

“But you’re not supposed to be Geetesh.”

“Vy not?”

“Because Geetesh isn’t Jerry! He’s not my boyfriend! He’s not the man I loved.”

“Dat iz rright, men zouldn’t love ohder men.” Geetesh smirked and continued, “And Geetesh iz betterr.”

Ignoring the first part of his argument, I continued with my original complaint.

“Geetesh is not better.”

“Yez he iz,” Geetesh stated firmly. “I’m biggerr, brrownerr, and I have diz huge hairee सैक.”

“What?” I was confused by both his logic and the fact he had slipped out of English once again. As if he was proving a point, he pulled down his underwear to show me his package. The now pure-brown balls hung low, and his dark and hairy cock must have been at least 7 inches long soft. He even had an out-of-control bush that shrouded the entire assortment like a shrine. Before I could examine any further however, Geetesh quickly pulled his underwear back up, looking rather embarrassed to have another man staring at his parts.

“I still don’t understand,” I tried to initiate the conversation once again. “Jerry is my boyfriend! I don’t get why you feel like you can just let him go?”

“Id’z juzt abouht rrace: brrown iz zuperriorr.”

“I…I don’t-”

“Geetesh iz a brreederr,” he resumed. “a brrown brreederr.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“Brrown brreederrs make darrk babieez.”

Shocked, I decided to pursue the question that had been lingering in the back of my head.

“Are you straight now or something?”

“Alvayz have,” Geetesh puffed up his chest. “And हमेशा रहेगा.”

Sitting on the bed, I felt like I had been hit by a train going at at least 50 miles per hour. I mean, this guy couldn’t have been serious, right? Was Jerry pulling some kind of prank on me to get back at the silicone injection? Jerry would never do something like that, but maybe I had finally pushed his experimentation limits too far.

Thinking I had lost not only my boyfriend but also my mind, a sudden thought darted to the front of my brain. In a moment of desperation, I hopped off the bed and ran over to the trash can. My running was a little staggered, but I blamed that due to the champagne earlier. Ruffling through the garbage, I snatched what I was looking for and read the details on the back of the empty ScrotamPlus package.

“Made in India!” I shouted aloud, having a eureka moment. “Those stupid injections did this to you…”

I turned to face Geetesh with an excited glee, but I was surprised to find only my pillow on the bed. Before I could even process the question, I felt a pair of thick, rough hands land on my shoulders. They steadied me out carefully; I hadn’t realized I had been swaying.

“Doze grread injectionz imprroved me, and dey vill imprrove you doo.”

It took a few moments for his sentence to translate itself into my head. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, I turned the ScrotamPlus package around in my hands. I unfortunately realized it hadn’t been empty before when I had thrown it out.

“Did youuuu…” my words came out slurred as my eyelids began to droop.

“Drrug you?” Geetesh asked as he delicately guided me forward.

I cursed the delicious champagne in my head as I was placed carefully onto the bed. With my body now horizontal, I felt Geetesh strip me of all my clothes. Even with my eyes barely open, I could still make out his looks of revulsion as he stripped a male body.

Lying there, I became nervous as to what my future had for me. Was I going to become a mindless slave just like him? A “brown breeder”? I now understood the point of the second silicone base, as I was coming to figure out this had been the company’s plan all along. They must have thought they were so smart with their “2 for 1” plan. Yet, thinking over the procedure one last time, I realized there remained a forgotten element.

“Youu… you can’t go throughh withh thissss.”

Geetesh looked up from his task, a small patch on my balls aching from their recent shave.

“Youu don’t have…” my voice wabbled. “another vial.”

Geetesh gave a cocky grin as he showcased to me the original vial, except now it was full of the same white fluid as before.

“Vat did you dink I vas doing ah day?”

The final pieces finally clicked together in my head. Yes, Geetesh had been avoiding having sex with another man, but that was just a benefit of his main plan: trying to accumulate his resources for the largest deposit possible.

I felt Geetesh shove the needle into my testicles harshly, but the numbing agents and the drugs he given me in the champagne neutered the majority of the pain. The silicone filled me up quickly, giving my balls the exact same heavy feeling Jerry had described just 24 hours before. The needle pulled out swiftly, but my eyelids shut before I could watch Geetesh inject his own semen into my sac.

553 notes · View notes

leo-bear · 1 month

Text

Picture-Perfect

A treat for @sjw-publishings

Scott Sherman walked around the party aimlessly, not really knowing what to do next. His best friend had invited him to be her “date” for a coworker’s bachelor/bachelorette party; a double event where everyone celebrated the soon-to-be bride and groom. Scott had never heard of such a thing, being the whole point of such parties was to blow off some final pre-marital steam, but apparently the couple in question wanted to "stay faithful up until the day of wed”. At least, that’s how his friend put it, begging him to attend this mega-Christian fest. The cocky gay otter had agreed on one condition; she didn’t leave his side.

But she had. Within moments, his fake partner had been whisked away by some other girls adorned in rather traditional attire. Clothes Scott would see those stuck-up religious folks dress up in for a Sunday service. And now he was all alone. It didn’t help that he appeared fairly intimidating as well. Large Slavik musculature, a little over 6 foot, and a fairly hairy body. It made him stick out from the rest of the invited crowd, most of whom looked to be of Asian descent. His stereotypical masculine figure was strikingly different from the mix of Eastern bodies. This didn’t make Scott afraid however. Quite the opposite actually; he was bored and wanted to look for some fun. He bet himself he could find at least one closeted gay by the end of the night to hook up with.

The first guy he approached was a total Malaysian dilf. Rugged features, warm eyes–everything Scott could easily fall for. The interaction didn’t go quite as planned though.

“Hey bud,” the now-obviously fully-hetero daddy had started. “As much as I would love to be your youth leader for tonight, I’ve got my wife waiting for me to get her a drink.”

Scott frowned, watching the man leave without him actually realizing what Scott had been hinting at. The second guy seemed a little boring, but he’d still do. Some executive at a social media company a little older than the 27-year-old. Emmanuel seemed fairly flat, but Scott wasn’t looking for a relationship here. Apparently, neither was he.

“Dude, you wouldn’t believe how absolutely amazing my fiancée is.” Emmanuel went on and on, never giving Scott a chance to escape from a topic so lifeless that he didn’t think it could get worse. That was, until Emmanuel started discussing the audience reach at his company and offered to help Scott install the app on his phone.

"Ohhhh!" Scott drew out the word in fake enthusiasm. "Let’s talk about that when I get back from the bathroom.”

He rushed off, no intention to return to that conversation or that man. Attempt number three was none other than the party’s photographer. What Scott assumed to be a man fresh from college and of Japanese heritage, he couldn’t help but take in the simple, clean-cut handsomeness of the photographer. He was determined to get this guy in bed.

Approaching confidently, Scott aligned himself right in the photographer’s shot.

“Hey cutie, are you a photographer?” Scott cracked his bulky knuckles with a wink.

The photographer was not amused. In fact, he seemed more confused by Scott’s gesture than anything. “Dude, mind straightening out a little? This is a party man–shouldn’t you have a girlfriend or something?”

Scott pushed full steam ahead. “How could I want anyone else when you’ve captured my heart?”

“Hmm…'captured my heart'?” The photographer was bewildered. Why was this man interacting with him in such a manner? Then, a lightbulb lit up in his head. A misguided, wrongly-intentioned lightbulb, but a lightbulb nonetheless. The man was trying to impress him…to get to someone else.

“But my sister wouldn’t like this kind of bold, upfront man,” the photographer mumbled to himself.

“What did you say, sexy?” Scott purred. He assumed the photographer was considering his attraction. Scott couldn’t wait to shove his thick python up that shorter man’s perky little behind.

The photographer had another plan in mind, knowing what he had to do to help Scott accomplish what he thought was his goal. It was about time the photographer’s sister started seeing someone, and his sister had always remarked that she had wanted a guy just like her brother. And the chance was practically being presented to him, the opportunity to set up his sister with the right kind of a man.

“Come with me,” the photographer said, grabbing Scott’s hand and pulling him along. Scott cheered inwardly to himself, finally having landed a score. The smaller male brought him to an empty part of the house where they could be alone. The kitchen area was compact, but Scott could still get the job done. Immediately, Scott began unbuttoning his designer shirt.

“Woah, buddy!” the photographer shouted. “Hold your horses!”

Scott blinked awkwardly. He hadn’t even been able to lower his tight matching shorts for the real show. “What?”

“Just hold still, dude,” the photographer directed, placing himself along the opposite wall. “Gotta make some adjustments first.”

Scott didn’t know what to say, but if the photographer wanted to get some pictures of him, he’d surely oblige. Maybe it would be a game, removing a piece of clothing with every set. Scott would play along, letting the other man take charge before pouncing and tackling him to the ground to show him why he was always on top.

“Alright.” The photographer began taking some pictures, the flash blinding Scott. Each miniature explosion of light pulsated throughout his body, sending ripples and disorienting him.

“How are you feeling?” the photographer asked.

“I’m uh…” Scott mumbled. His thoughts were a little fuzzy. “Are we gonna…gonna…”

“Let me just…” the photographer took a couple of more pictures, both freezing the otter a little more.

“You…hot…” Scott’s brain felt like moldable clay. Raw, unfiltered, and needing to regain some shape. Any shape.

“Hmmm, ‘hot’?” The photographer seemed displeased. “Man, I’m not too sure my sister would be into you–too cocky and forward.”

“No…” Scott tried to correct the photographer's mistake, but everything felt so slow. “...I mean…”

“Just stay still, I’ll make this quick dude.”

The photographer snapped some more shots. Scott felt oddly heavy, having to steady himself on the counter.

“Focus on my lens…obedience to my words…”

The otter blushed fervently in his position, unable to resist the soft tenor voice and the way his crush remained in control. For some reason, Scott also seemed unable to move, his body not making any commotion as the photographer approached him and adjusted his clothes and his noticeably hefty pouch.

“D…dude!” Scott staggered out. “Are you…feeling my balls…?”

“My dad’s a urologist, man.” The photographer continued to cup Scott’s tremendous package. “Checking if your grapes are straight.”

Scott didn’t know how to react, not understanding what sexual game this photographer was playing. But he wasn’t protesting. Scott took an immense amount of pride in his massive offerings, and he couldn’t admit that he wasn’t turned on. “Oh…!”

The photographer eventually stepped back, now knowing what he was working with. He couldn’t completely get this man to be the picture-perfect boyfriend, but the photographer would do his best with what he was given. He snapped a few pictures right away.

Scott just watched on and the photographer got to work, his thoughts a flat zone. He simply existed, following whatever the photographer did and said. Like when he asked Scott how old he was, in which Scott was proud to assert his older age. Especially after the photographer mentioned the importance of respecting elders. That made his top-hood twitch. And then the photographer kindly reminded him that he was a month older than Scott. He was born in February, and this man was born in January!

“Sit up Straight.”

The quick shift of a command jolted the young jock with immediate force, startled as his older crush spoke with much force and demand. It explained why the photographer was so assertive, being only a month older. But of course, Scott was a month younger, meaning the other 23-year-old simply knew better. He was definitely the guy-next-door type…but he had a more firm approach than most men Scott had been attracted to.

Speaking of which, Scott had never really been attracted to an Asian-ish guy before. He’d always preferred more masculine men that he could submerge into their secret submissive behaviors. It was something he found easy in European men. Not that Asian alphas didn’t have that quality–just that Scott hadn’t found one. He liked hooking up with men that looked like him. Bulky, furry, brutally masculine. And with each click of the camera, Scott affirmed this criteria. Yeah, he typically only slept with the guys who appeared like him. This hot photographer definitely did. That ethnically-inherent tan, those black locks and smooth limbs. The facial structures that are undeniably of the East, and their smaller, better-crafted features.

“Alright bud, you gotta get a GRIP on yourself if you want to impress your crush.”

Scott tried to get his face to frown. Wasn’t the photographer his crush? He tried to grab a hold of himself with his softer, daintier hands, fondling his gigantic-

*Click*

-fondling his modest groin. Despite the strength of his fingers, he felt his pouch being squashed like a firm rebuke: hard-on squeezing down a size underneath his compact fist. Scott didn’t understand why this felt so…difficult! Even though he had jerke-...produced before, his package wasn’t responding like Scott believed it should have.

“Gentler dude…” the photographer cooed. “She’ll want it gentler.”

“No…dude…” Scott centered all his strength to speak. “I want…youuu?”

The photographer released a burst of flashes, each wavelength absorbing into Scott’s being. Scott could feel a burgeoning question arising through the muck of his head. Wasn’t what he just said…really gay?

“I mean your sister…” The words left his mouth with complete clarity before Scott could even consider what he’d say. “...Wait! I…I mean-”

The photographer cut him off, rushing forward and fondling Scott’s pouch with him, forcing the younger man’s palm to clamp down.

“This is not a hand job…” the photographer corrected Scott’s thought before it even happened. “I am simply giving you a hand.”

The photographer then adjusted his camera lens with his free hand, putting the scope into a more direct focus to completely center in.

“Alright, just a few more pics and you’ll get the job done.”

“...but I…I already do?”

The photographer ignored him. “Just have to remove that presumptuousness.”

Scott wanted to protest, not knowing exactly what he was protesting but do so nonetheless. But every click of the camera was like a neutralizing barrage of light. Each flash directly in his face.

“Now imagine your girlfriend complimenting you, dude!”

“Hey…cut it out! I like…g…guys!” Scott needed to stop this madness and fight back.

“Think about holding her umbrella and serving her tea like a respectable man!”

“Nooo…stop!” He wanted to address the situation and tell the photographer to stop. But a blush was suddenly adorning his cheeks.

“What if she wants a kiss, dude.”

“A KISS…well uh…I would…oh Lordy…”

Scott gulped, wishing to say something to his superior and hoping to make a change. But the pinkish hue was spreading fast across his yellowy cheeks. He didn't even realize the photographer's hand had moved away–only his hand was left kneading his bottom-on.

“And what will happen when you get married to her?”

“Oh man…oh MAN!”

Scott went red, a shy and nervous demeanor devouring him as he became overwhelmingly flustered. A spurt of serum released into the bottle the photographer had conveniently lined up moments before. Satisfied, the photographer then stepped back to admire his work.

“Man, you look a little off,” the photographer prompted. “Are you still worried about it?”

“About…?” the man blinked, the haze slowly lifting from his mind.

“About asking my sister out!” the photographer shouted excitedly.

“I couldn’t…” Simon Sari meekly protested. “I'm not so sure if that is a good idea…I like her but…”

“Nonsense dude. You’re her match!”

“Don't…don’t tease me like that!” Simon huffed, ruffling a hand through his traditionally-cut black hair. “You’re torturing me over here, man.”

“You’re just her type,” the photographer shook his head. “She wants a guy just like her older brother.”

“I guess man…”

Simon couldn’t help but agree that he did resemble the photographer very well. Sure, he was a little shorter than the other man at 5’6, but he did have some musculature. He was also a little bigger down there, giving a soft pat to his slightly above average member. He always hated having a more prominent pouch than his peers though; it made the meek, humble, good Christian guy stick out when he really wished to hide within the congregation. Speaking of which, his unorthodox outfit was doing him no favors.

“That outfit? Yeah dude, stick to the typical stuff,” the photographer affirmed, referring to button-ups and khaki’s lacking any character.

“Why are you…helping me, by the way?” Simon questioned.

“Well, you are going to be dating my sister, and putting the ring on it very soon after.” This made Simon seize up into the color of an overripe tomato. “We’re already brothers, and soon-to-be brothers-in-law. Plus, I’ve seen how you get when you speak about her.”

And just like that, the shy Simon immediately perked up, his introverted personality disappearing at the opportunity to speak about the photographer’s sister. His whole demeanor changed in an instant, proudly boasting about how much he cared for the one particular female.

“Oh boy, don't get me started! I would hold all her handbags when she shop...I would pay for her dinner…and and and take her to every church club…and oh…Oh! I would...”

The photographer couldn’t help but take a picture of the wholesome instance–a man coming out of his shell to preach about his love for a woman.

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leo-bear · 1 month

Text

The Bear Brew

Jake was the star player of his university’s hockey team, and with two successful championships under his belt he was captain for this next season. He’d practically been raised for this position. His parents had put him in hockey lessons as soon as he could stand up, and every moment through his childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to practice. He was the star player at his high school and given a scholarship to play on the university team. He’d been told not to let all that go to his head but he knew he was the best player on the team. Every match there would be throngs of fans in the stands chanting his name after every goal, wearing shirts with his face on them, and begging for pics with him after. His life couldn’t get any better.

His teammates, however, were over it. They’d made him captain just to shut him up after he’d been talking their ears off for the past three years. It helped that issue but only inflated his ego even more. Jake had somehow gotten even more obnoxious this season, becoming combative during practice and not taking any criticism about his play. The guys were sick of it, and while Jake was off stroking his ego by chatting with his fans, they hatched up a plan to get back at him. They’d found this beer called ‘Bear Brew’ that promised to put some pounds on anyone that drank a can. They knew Jake would never turn down grabbing a drink to celebrate a victory, thinking himself the one responsible. They weren’t sure exactly how effective it’d be or how long it’d take but they just hoped it would take Jake down a peg.

Two days later, after another decisive victory, it was time. Another player named Eric interrupted Jake’s victory lap.

“Hey bro, wanna grab a beer with us and celebrate?” He asked.

“Finally ready to celebrate my accomplishments, huh?” Jake retorted, “Sure dude, I’m down for a couple rounds, you’re buying though.”

“Deal,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He knew it would be worth it to see this through. They both returned to the rest of the team.

“I heard you chumps are buying me a beer tonight,” Jake laughed as the others wore forced grins. “Let’s hit the bar bros, I’m thirsty.”

On their way to the nearest sports bar, one of the players slipped Eric the Bear Brew so he could give it to Jake. He hoped Jake wouldn’y pay too much attention to the label or read the fine print, but Jake already wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so it’d probably be fine. They entered a local sports bar that had a decent crowd.

“Alright Eric, first rounds on you bro!” Jake announced as he slumped back into a booth along the wall. Eric glared as he made his way to the counter, the rest of the players trying to seem normal and hide their excitement. He brought back a whole armful of cans, passing out beers to the team, making sure to hand Jake the Bear Brew. “Alright boys!” Jake announced to the group, “To victory and my next championship title, you better back me up!” He took a huge sip of the beer. “Damn this shit tastes kinda weird, the fuck did you get me Eric?” He laughed before taking another sip.

Eric chuckled nervously, “Just thought I’d get you somethin’ premium bro.”

“Damn straight you did, I like that kinda talk,” Jake responded, luckily not putting any more thought into the matter. He kept on sipping at the beer, making obnoxious jokes and trying to hit on the waitresses walking around. He felt more buzzed than usual from one beer, and noticed an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored that for the moment, yelling at the team, “Another round bros! Gotta treat me right tonight.”

Luckily, the team had planned for this and brought extra beers for Jake in case he asked for more. Another player went up and ordered beers for the team, brought them back and handed Jake the Bear Brew again. Jake started chugging the second beer, and he was really starting to feel odd. He was almost feeling drunk from just two beers, and his stomach was queasy in a way he’d never felt before. He took a couple minutes to just lay back against the seat and close his eyes to give it time to settle. But settle it did not, and the feeling eventually became uncomfortable to the point he couldn’t ignore it. He put his hands on his stomach to try and comfort it, but immediately he felt something very, very wrong.

Jake opened his eyes and looked down at his stomach. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Instead of his chiseled abs he now had a pudgy stomach, and it only seemed to be getting bigger. His defined muscles were disappearing behind a thick layer of chub. He was speechless, watching his defined pecs inflating with fat. It looked like he’d been binging beers for years! His perfect workout routine was vanishing before his eyes as his entire body gained 5, 10, 20 pounds. A round belly now stretched his shirt to its limit, with sagging tits to match. It looked as if he’d been dirty bulking for years on end, and Jake was mortified. He glanced around at his teammates hoping no one had noticed his inflating body, feeling his face as a double chin began to form under his formerly tight jawline. He was panicking, trying to keep cool and maintain his cocky bravado while hiding his growing gut.

He could feel every part of his body growing plump and soft, threatening to burst out of his tight clothing. His feet were pushing against his shoes, and even his hands were growing larger. Jake felt sick to his stomach, and without attracting attention he got up and made his way to the dingy restroom in the back of the bar. Out of breath, he put his hands on the counter and stared at his bloated reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself, having put on years worth of weight in the last few minutes. As he watched himself, he noticed some dark spots appearing on his face. Upon leaning towards the mirror, he realized with horror that thick, brown hairs were starting to poke out of his face. They popped up around the sagging edge of his jaw, and began spreading across his puffy cheeks. His upper lip was quickly buried beneath a thick, unkempt mustache as the hairs took over. They crawled down his fat-laden neck as well, reaching down towards his collarbone. His mouth dropped open as his face was in an instant coated in thick wiry hairs. There was no way he could go back out to his team now, what would they say? He barely looked like his old self anymore.

Jake reached up to feel his newly grown beard, the coarse hairs scratching against his fingers. He tried to come up with a plan, but the several beers had dulled his mind down. Those thoughts were cut short as a sudden itch arose on his chest. Jake started to scratch at it, clawing at his chest before he felt something that filled him with horror. He felt stubble. He tore off his shirt and looked down to see more hairs pushing out of his soft chest, starting between his former pecs and blossoming outward. They grew dense and thick, giving his chest a respectable coating as it stretched out, encircling his nipples. The hairs climbed up his collarbone, connecting with the beard hairs that had claimed his neck already. A line of hairs shot down from his chest to his navel, spreading a new field of hairs on his stomach. His torso itched up a storm as a thick pelt was growing in, but Jake felt a mixture of horror and pleasure as the sensation felt unnaturally good. He groaned watching the hairs grow longer on his chest, curling and tangling with the others.

As he reached up to feel the growing hairs, Jake saw a flash of dark under his arm, somewhere he had kept shaved before. He lifted his arm up and saw thick brown hairs worming their way out from the previously smooth skin. At first it was just a few but as he watched the tuft grew thicker and bushier as the hairs multiplied. The hairs even spread out to connect with the rug on his chest, completely visible even with his arms at his sides. A few seconds later the smell hit him. Those hairy pits reeked! It was eye watering, and he could see the sweat dripping down the wiry hairs as they kept growing longer. The hairs began crawling outside of his pits, wrapping around his shoulders to blanket them in the same thick fur. He looked like he was wearing a hairy shirt, barely able to see the skin under the growing hairs. His new fur continued to spread, as Jake felt the itching engulf his back. He turned in the mirror to glimpse the hairs popping up across his shoulder blades, making their way towards the middle where they met and grew into a thick fur. That fur sprouted down his spine, completing his coat. Above his ass it had grown in particularly thick, suggesting more to come soon. His arms were next, hairs sprouting down his thick biceps, and burying his forearms in a rug of dark hairs. The backs of his large hands were also coated, thick hairs popping up even on his knuckles.

Despite feeling horrified at what he was becoming, Jake was overwhelmed by immense pleasure from the changes. Every hair that sprouted produced a euphoria like nothing he’d experienced before. He could feel the follicles pushing through the skin as they covered him in luscious brown fur. Something was distracting him from that sensation though, and it was in his crotch. A burning and stretching feeling was occurring down there, and though his heart sank, Jake pulled down his waistband to peek. His previously trimmed bush was pushing out, dark hairs erupting from his groin as they spread like wildfire. The hairs sprouted and grew thicker and curlier as they multiplied, traveling from the base of his cock all the way up and merging into his thick stomach hair. The bush spread outwards onto his thighs, and he felt his balls expanding as they began to hang lower. They too were buried beneath the fur that was taking over his groin, with thick wiry hairs growing all over his enlarging balls. Jake moaned in ecstasy as his pubes kept sprouting, growing longer and bushier. It felt wrong and disgusting but his body was overtaken by hormones and endorphins, the sensation of pleasure was undeniable.

The hairs continued taking over his smooth skin, traveling from his bush down his large thighs, popping up and growing dark and curly. They coated his legs, growing dense enough to darken the shade of his skin as hair sprouted all over his thighs and calves, before reaching his feet. Jake pulled off his shoes that were ripping at the seams, exposing his now size 15 feet. He watched as hairs wormed their way out across the tops of his feet, even sprouting on his toes. His entire body was now coated in thick brown hair, and Jake rubbed his hands through the newly grown fur as he moaned from the sensation.

His moment of pleasure was cut short by someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Hey Jake, you all good in there bro?” It was Eric, eager to see if their plan had worked.

“Uhh,” Jake hesitated, brought back to reality in a flash. “Yea dude, just a little sick to my stomach it’s no big deal, I’ll be out in a sec,” he replied with a shakiness in his voice. He looked at himself in the mirror. What would the rest of the team think? He looked about ten years older and fifty pounds heavier, not to mention the hairy mess he was now. He was unrecognizable as his past self, not to mention that his clothes didn’t even fit anymore. He struggled to put his shirt back on, leaving his hairy belly exposed, before cramming his huge feet back into his shoes. He took a deep breath, and then unlocked the door and walked back out into the bar.

His teammates had gathered around the door, waiting to see what had become of Jake. They gasped in unison as he opened the door, quickly changing to a howling laughter.

“BROOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“No way it actually worked! I can’t believe this”

“JAKE YOU’RE SO FAT AND HAIRY”

“GET OWNED DUDE”

“That Bear Brew really did a number on you man!”

Jake was taken aback, his transformation had been potted by his teammates! He was stunned into silence, standing there with his half-fitting shirt on as he was laughed at voraciously. Slowly the laughter cooled, and Eric came up and slapped him on the back.

“See you at practice tomorrow dude,” he said with a chuckle.

The rest of the team left Jake and headed out of the bar. He stood there grappling with the reality of his life now, how was he going to go back to everything like this? In the face of overwhelming stress, he decided to put it out of his mind for just a little while. He walked back to his table, picked up another can of beer, and sat down. His life was a problem for tomorrow.

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leo-bear · 1 month

Text

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out.

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

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leo-bear · 1 month

Note

Recently I’ve been seeing loads of pics of gym guys in tight, probably too small lycra gear, it’s making me jealous of their muscles & confidence, I wish I could be like them and wear tight lycra without a care who sees or stares

You’re browsing wistfully through an online sports gear store when a popup window opens, displaying a cartoonish image of a buff genie in head-to-toe lycra. “Special first time offer loading…” the popup declares, and the genie winks at you as the webpage resets.

Suddenly, something has changed. You start running your hands over the smooth fabric hugging your body and look down to see yourself clad in a tight spandex leotard covered in brand names. Even your body underneath the clothes looks different, bulked up and tan, veins almost visible right through the lycra.

You jump up, checking that the window is shuttered so no one will see you, and scramble to your closet, but inside is more of the same. Every scrap of your clothing has been replaced with lycra. The cotton polo shirts have become form-fitting compression tees. All your slacks are now muscle-hugging yoga tights. And your underwear is all sheer, tight-fitting, and skimpy as hell.

As you blush down to your lycra-clad chest, you hear a cough from your computer speakers, and turn to see the cartoon genie glaring at you from the screen. “Okay, wrong reaction,” he scolds you, his voice tinny and distorted. “Maybe this will fix you.”

Faster than you can react, another loading bar fills and the page resets.

It’s like a fog settles over your head. This is hot, you think, feeling up massive tan muscles through your even tighter lycra one-piece. You love the mesh panels that let everyone see how much of a lycra slut you are. Nothing else is important except showing off your spandex-clad superhero muscles and getting off in your favourite gear.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

174 notes · View notes

leo-bear · 1 month

Note

hi. I have a little problem. the guy I like invited me to a sex hotel for the night with a bunch of all sorts of fetish rooms, role-playing costumes and other things. But I'm so worried... Could you give me a little more confidence with your techniques? ;)

Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations! Don’t worry, you’ll be more than ready for your sex hotel reservation ;)

You wake up and luxuriate in a comfortable bed, barely realising your nakedness. Looking around the nondescript hotel room, you notice that you feel a little…empty. Like your interests have been wiped away, just waiting to be recreated.

One of your friends comes in and guides your unresisting body out of the room and into another room full of leather. There’s a warm feeling through your body, and suddenly you understand the leather fetish. The sensation of leather on your skin excites you as you slip into pants and a vest. Someone puts a whip in your hand, and you grin sadistically, a dominant power filling you as your submissive friends’ erections fill your vision.

Later, someone clips a spiked collar around your neck, and your head feels immediately, blissfully empty. You gaze at your master with blank, adoring eyes as he affixes a harness over your mesh shirt. You kneel for him at the slightest pressure, and as he takes his shoes off there’s a rush as you realise how sexy his feet are.

You have no capacity for shyness anymore, and you’ll be into anything anyone wants to try. How many different kinks do you think you can try on tonight? After all, it’s easier than trying on clothes for you.

Enjoy your vacation!

Want to go on vacation? Drop me an ask!

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leo-bear · 1 month

Text

FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

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