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smell my crotch, bitch. no escape from my power.

It's so hot knowing these bros probably have the worst political views, yet I'd have no choice but to suck their cocks if they commanded me to. I could pretend otherwise, but I know in seconds I'd be begging to rub every inch of them, to suck them off and let them fuck me 24/7. It's just the honest truth. After a few minutes of licking their furry, beefy chests, sucking on those man pecs, and getting hypnotized by the scent of their sweaty, hairy pits, I'd probably be desperate to cook their post-gym meals, to lick the cum off their sheets after they got done plowing that night's round of bitches, to wash their speedos as long as I could lick the sweat and cum off them.

Somehow, knowing how gross they are would only make it hotter, would only make me want to degrade myself by serving them even more. The more I told myself it was wrong, the more entranced I'd be. I'd massage their feet while they drank beer and watched tv; plant my head between their treetrunk legs and suck them off during every game (after prepping their dip and snacks while they relaxed), and let them fuck me whenever the team won... or lost.

If I ever resisted or grew hesitant, if my conscious ever got the better of me--- if, maybe, incrementally over weeks or even months, I somehow was able to piece together the willpower to resist or fight back, even just for a moment, all they'd have to do is flex thier big meaty arms or stick my head in those musky, fuzzy pits, and my brain would be wiped clean again. All the effort built up to resist them over months would be gone; reset right back to zero in a few seconds. All my values and morals would probably go with them, eventually.

Then I'd be free to fulfill my purpose: cooking them dinner and sucking their cocks while they ate, being a devoted, on-call cumdump, sniffing balls, feet, pits, dicks, etc, and doing whatever else they ordered me to. They could compete in seeing who could fill me with the most loads every weekend, use me over and over again, pumping their hot cum into me as much as they wanted. I'd be zonked out, drooling, eyes rolled back as they sunk me deeper and deeper with every load.

Because I would see that they were right all along: That betas like me only exist for alphas to have something to empty their balls into. All that shit about men like them ruining this country would be slowly erased, replaced with their thoughts, their values, their way of living that says that masc men like them exist to be served, and bitches like me exist to do the serving.

You see it now, too, right? I mean, I don't care if you lie to me, or everyone else, but don't lie to yourself. Maybe you won't like or reblog- maybe you're too embarrassed, or scared what people might think if they saw. That's ok. What's important is that now, deep down, you know all those beliefs about toxic masculinity are just sad rebellions against the natural order of things. That you want to suck, serve, and worship conservative dick. Listen to your body and cock, not your brain and your thoughts. You feel that tingle when you think of dropping to your knees for a MAGA man, don't you boy?

It's ok. You don't have to tell anyone. You just need to stroke and serve.

Good American Men 🇺🇸

Proud and Patriotic 💪🏼👌🏼

Ok they’re on their way back, you got about 4 minutes. Get yourself off. C’mon get in there. I know what you like. Anyone who took a pounding like I just gave yah without quitting deserves a nut. Hurry up! I gotta get in the shower I was rank before I cored you out, now I REEK. I think they’ll notice the smell of a grade-A buttfuck… alright be a good little pit piggy and bate for me!

“That went even better than I thought… I mean. An ALL DOORS buy?! We—this is the big leagues! Officially.” My head was spinning and my heart was still pounding in my chest. We’d been through hell putting together the sales pitch and now, we were going nationwide. He was laughing and holding his head. We were both giddy. He plopped down on the hotel bed. He tapped the one parallel motioning for me to sit. I sat and said, “we won’t be having to share a hotel room after this amariiiight?” I pointed my finger-guns at him while making a clicking sound with my mouth. “Don’t be so sure” he said with a wink. I gulped. I wished he wasn’t hot. My life would’ve been so much easier if he wasn’t hot! “You made me look very good in there. You really landed that whole meeting, thank you.” He said. “Oh god that’s the easy part. I’m just glad all those late nights were worth it!” I answered. “You like making me look good…don’t you?” He said. His eyelids dropped, his breathing slowed, he put his hand on my knee. “I just—I guess I’m trying to say—well it’s not that hard to make you look good,” I stammered. He crossed his leg and untied his shoe. He let it drop. He did the same with his other shoe. He began stretching his toes in his socks. As the mellow scent began to hit me, I was starting to freak out. I couldn’t catch my breath. This was all too much stimulation. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to scream, cry, or cum. “You… were a very, very good boy today.” He said in a buttery tone. Instantly I was grounded again. He called me boy. He called me a good boy at that! I couldn’t speak but I was sure I was beaming. “Do you know what good boys get?” He asked. “No—ehh, what should I call you?” I asked. “Call me Sir,” he said winking again. “No, Sir. What do good boys get?” I asked. He slowly peeled his sweaty sock off, “good boys, get stinky feet time.” He said. He looked down at the floor, and I understood. I sunk down between both beds. “You’re gonna sniff, and kiss, and lick my big feet… I’m gonna rub ‘em on you and let you snuggle up to my nice soft sweaty feet ok boy? Just for you.” He said. He slowly lifted his foot. “Start with lil kisses ok?” He said. I began kissing. The smell was perfect, salt sweat, musk, cotton, and leather. I let out a sound that was half moan and half whine. “Gooooood boy. Yeah. That’s so sweet. Good boy, you can lick if you want to. You deserve it.” He said. I was writhing on the floor, “how did you know?” I whispered in between licks. “When we checked in, I told you I was gonna shower and shave. I forgot my razor, I came out to grab it and there you were… sniffing my socks and touching yourself. You were in such a trance you didn’t even notice I’d caught you. That’s when I knew things were gonna change.” He answered. I was making out with his soles as he spoke. “I’m gonna beat off now my special boy. You can too, you just gotta ask permission to cum ok? And you gotta say real loud what made you cum. You gotta talk about my feet ok? You got that?” He said. “Yes Sir, I got it. It’s your big, perfect, warm, stinky feet that are gonna make me squirt. Sir’s feeeet.” I moaned. “Good boy.” He said.

Uh ohh… looks like somebody’s still mad. You still upset I shaved your head? I have enough hair for both of us. Did I go too far my lil fuck face? Good. You’re the one who fell in love with a bully. Besides you look cuter this way. All fuzzy like a faggot peach…Are you fucking blushing?! Ha! God I haven’t seen you blush since I used to rip your towel off in the showers. Make all the guys laugh at your lil nubbin. Ahhh the good ol’ days. Here, you got 5 minutes. Sniff, lick, suck any part of me you want, you can even beat off. You’ve been a good lil bitch. C’mon, offer won’t last. Time is ticking.

Border Patrol

Gary and David had spent a long portion of their lives convincing their families that being gay was normal and that they were able to find true happiness with one another. It took a lot of effort, and a lot of public displays of affection, but they were able to change some minds and get a decent amount of support for their wedding. It had been beautiful, with perfect skies on a lovely summer day that somehow said someone was looking out for them. After a fantastic meal, some toasts, and a decent amount of time spent on the dance floor with the classic hits, the couple was ready for some time alone.

Gary and David decided to have their honeymoon in Florida since they didn’t have much money saved, both having only recently gotten their Bachelor’s degrees. They knew that Florida wasn’t known as the safest place to flaunt their newly-certified love, but it had everything they wanted within a reasonable price.

“Are you sure about this?” David asked, the more submissive of the two. At 5’6 and as skinny as a twig, it was pretty obvious that the Latino twink was never on top. Especially when but next to the barrel-chested 6’4 cub named Gary.

“Of course, sweetie,” Gary kissed David on the forehead while rubbing his back. It was also to help guide him along through the tunnel connecting the gate to the airplane. The flight was leaving midday, but was surprisingly empty when the couple had entered. They had been in the final group, but it only had a passenger per row–at max. Some rows were completely empty, giving Gary hope that he’d get to sit next to his husband on the flight.

“Please sit in your assigned seats,” the flight attendant announced as they passed by. “We’d like to have everyone accounted for properly.”

Gary wanted to say something, but David pulled him along not wanting to cause any trouble.

“It’s only three hours, baby,” David shrugged. “And if anything, I could always meet you in the bathroom if you need to see me.”

Gary grabbed his lover’s perky behind in response. “You bet I will.” Gary then proceeded to take his seat, just two rows up from where his husband was sitting. In the middle seat was a college-aged jock, one Gary could already smell from the aisle due to his thin wife beater and open-toed shoes. Gary rolled his eyes, wishing straight guys weren’t such pigs. He politely asked if he could get to his window seat, and after a once-over from the jock he got in. Gary couldn’t help but notice the grimaced look that passed over the other man’s face, the displeased frown framed largely by his beard.

The flight took off without a problem and they were soon in the air. Gary was hoping for a quiet ride, but it seemed his seatmate had other plans.

“So,” the jock started in a deep tone obviously lacking intellect. “What’s a fag like you doin’ comin’ down to Florida?”

Displeased and wanting to bite back, Gary simply ignored the comment and turned to look out the window. He had a three-hour flight ahead anyway; best not to spend it dealing with some homophobe.

“Earth to Queerdo,” the jock taunted, wrapping his massive arm around Gary’s shoulder. His perspiration inadvertently transferred onto Gary’s neck. “I’m talking to you.”

“What do you want?” Gary turned to face his accuser. “I’m a stranger who you won’t even remember after this flight lands. Can’t you just leave me and my husband be?”

“You’re married, huh?” the jock peered back over his shoulder to where David was sitting. “Don’t you two delusional faggots know you’re disrupting the sanctity of marriage?”

Gary couldn’t believe this guy was serious.

“Looks like my bud Mason is already dealing with him though.”

Confused–and slightly nervous after seeing the cocky grin on the jock’s face–he turned back to see where his husband was sitting. His eyes widened after taking in the sight. David, his soft, loving, committed husband, was eating out the other jock’s pits. Completely worshiping them. As in, going all in with nose and tongue into what appeared to be a straight man’s dense, hairy jungle.

“Look, your kind ain’t welcome in this neck of the woods,” the jock started again. “So we’re just helping you get acclimated to the…right side of things.”

“What the he-” Gary’s mouth stopped moving as soon as the scent hit him. The jock had lifted up his own muscled arm to reveal a dark, thick, hairy bush. It was dripping wet and had obviously not seen daylight (or deodorant for that matter) in quite a while. But there was a certain smell it possessed. A rancid, potent musk. But it smelt…good. Gary couldn’t believe how…amazing it smelt. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” the jock couldn’t contain his arrogant smile. “Homos always love Bryce’s pits.”

And with that, Gary dove in. He buried his nose as close to the skin as he could, letting the funk override his brain. He felt Bryce’s arm slowly move down to rest on top of his head, applying pressure as sweat was matted onto his face. But Gary got to work, providing a level of worship and adoration he’d never given to his husband. Or any gay men for that matter. He was in heaven.

“Think of my bro and I as Border Patrol,” Bryce announced from above. “We protect Florida from the likes of you. We aren’t a safe space anymore thanks to the governor.”

Bryce said this with such an amount of pride that it only turned Gary on more.

“You know the old saying: ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.’ Well, DeSantis loves that line, so he installed bros like us to carry it out.”

Gary was still sniffing, but he began to feel a weird tingle envelop his body. It was almost like his whole body had fallen asleep; that numb, static-like sensation.

“You fags can’t beat us,” Bryce jeered. “So you’re gonna join us.”

And as if on command, Gary’s body began to change. The first notable thing to happen was the loss of height. Although he was still snuggled tight in Bryce’s armpit, he could feel his body compressing in on itself. It was a slow process, but Gary was glad for it. Those extra inches were obviously not necessary, and they made it a lot more comfortable for him to do his job. Something in the back of his mind told him he was now exactly 6 foot: enough to make a statement but not enough to take charge.

Speaking of compressing, Gary’s bulky frame also underwent a sort of contraction. The combination of muscle and fat that he’d packed on for years was thinning out, losing pound after pound. The body fat was shaved away, not completely but noticeably. The musculature however stayed behind, creating noticeably tailored body parts. 

Arms that were built in the gym and were meant to carry objects (women ready to be conquered) or apply force (queers ready to be punched). Legs that were crafted on the field and were meant to carry objects (kick the pigskin across the field) or apply force (kick the balls off a fairy). Hands large enough to cup boobs or cup himself. Feet big enough to stomp across campus or stomp on some fag. Pecs and abs ready to be put on display. Pits and crotch that stank of decay. Cock and balls ready to be put into play. 

Gary’s body was being created into the ultimate white heterosexual machine, but he didn’t think anything of it. He couldn’t see the six pack underneath two formidable pectorals now hiding underneath his salmon pink polo. He wouldn’t notice the pair of quads stacked above the massive set of calves within his summer khakis. Gary didn’t even try to register the way his new Size 14 feet were breathing in fresh air after escaping their leather prison. All of it–the lower vocal register, the longer dick, and his own larger pit bushes–couldn’t take Gary away from the sensual haze that he’d trapped himself within. 

“Now, let’s get a progress report,” Bryce stated, lifting Gary out of his armpit. He was greeted with the face of Gary, although much improved in his opinion. Wider jaw, more masculine features, bro-ier haircut. Yeah, Gary was coming along nicely. He looked like the kind of pussy magnet and liberal-hatin’ narcissist the governor wanted.

“How ya feeling, meathead?” Bryce asked. Gary blinked rapidly, his mind slowly coming out of the fog. He began to realize what he had done and comprehend what had been done to him.

“You…” Gary muttered incoherently. “What di…did you…”

In response, Bryce shoved Gary right back into his pit, only this time squeezing him down harder. Gary tried to resist and plead for help, but there was no escaping the odorous prison.

“What?” Bryce obnoxiously questioned. “I can’t hear you!”

Gary fought back, trying to utilize his more muscular figure, but it was no use. Every second spent within Bryce’s armpit was tainting him, corrupting him. His energy was slowly drained, his will pulling back as he accepted his fate. The odor worked like a company undergoing a rebranding; new look, new owner, new way of doing things. Gary’s ambitions were no longer directed towards a stable home with his husband. No, he wanted to be free and party all the time. He didn’t want to be tied down to some property, he desired the ability to have no responsibility whatsoever, living off of others’ hard work. And Gary loathed the idea of shoving his cock inside some other man’s bottom. The thought alone disgusted him. He clenched his buttocks real tight as he instead dreamed of plowing his dick through some tight, warm pussy.

Other ideals and values were changed too. No longer a man who believed in the power of the federal government, Gary promoted the works of at-home officials. He didn’t want some Washington freak deciding how to live his day-to-day! His home was ruled by a man who came from the land! And just because people thought they could change their sexualities, change their genders, or change their pronouns didn’t mean Gary wanted to have to learn all that, let alone appreciate it. Heck, he was a man of the Bible–well, the important parts that is–and he wanted everyone else to follow it.

Gary smiled as he felt the straight Republican energy flowed through him, pushing the remains of his former self down to his massive cock. Noticing he was ready for release, Bryce chanted a quick “no homo” before giving the other man a tug. A spurt of homosexual semen disposed itself into the faggy outfit, “Gary” now no more.

“Alright their stud,” Bryce instructed, slowly lifting the new man out from under his pit once more. “I got an extra set of the uniform in my bag. Head out to the bathroom in the back and go get changed.”

“Uh huh…broski…” the new man mumbled, crawling over Bryce before stumbling his way down the aisle. Every new step helped clear out the fog in his head, allowing him to regain full consciousness by the time he made it to the restroom. Another brochacho was exiting the loo, adorning a sick bucket hat and a cross necklace that he couldn’t help but admire.

“Sweet look, dude,” he started, further respecting the tank and shorts combo. He offered his hand, “The name’s Garrett.”

“Dalton,” the other jock answered, pursing his lips. “I can’t say the same about your gay-ttire.”

Garrett looked down at his own fit, noticing Dalton was right. At least he filled it out well though, showing off his spectacular muscles to the ladies.

“Don’t worry, bro, I got a different uniform right here.”

“Nice,” Dalton nodded before heading back to his seat. Garrett proceeded to the stall, changing into a sexy snapback he immediately flipped around, a pair of short shorts that showed off everything beneath his massive schlong, and a tank promoting his undeniably correct–or should he say “right”–stance. Garrett added some accessories too before clomping his way back down the plane’s skinny hallway, his thick feet clapping against the sporty sandals with every step.

“Broooo…” Bryce drew out. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

“What can I say, I’m the sexiest piece of meat on the market,” Garrett shrugged.

The flight landed soon after, and Bryce and Mason led the new partners-in-crime to the nearest branch of the United States Customs. After an extremely short training period, some instruction videos, and a test which they immediately passed due to their commitment to the governor’s perception of what Floridian society (and soon American society) should be, they were accepted into the program and received their first assignments. But before they left however, their bros Bryce and Mason suggested they snap a pic to celebrate the occasion. Garrett and Dalton obliged, posing the best way they knew how in front of the best thing they knew of.

I bumped my head recently and now I'm confused.

I have these memories of not being big, dumb, and addicted to the gym.

Sometimes I wonder what happened. How o got to be this way.

But then I go lift some.

Or stroke one out on camera

Or flex extra hard.

And the thoughts go away.

"shhhh" he said, pressing a foot into your face, and your mind blanked out.

You'd wanted to talk about something that had... been... bothering you? Him.... helping.... more? What? It didn't really matter anymore. You took another deep inhale, smiling.

"That's it. Just like that, boy. Nice and deep."

"Yes sir," you said, taking yet another breath. "Was I... saying something?"

"Yeah, something about it not being fair that you do all the chores. That you'd leave me if I didn't start helping out more. But you'll never leave. Right, babe?" he said, pressing his foot further into your face.

"No sir. I'd never leave."

"And why's that?"

"Because then I wouldn't be able to serve these, or the rest of you," you said, rubbing your face into the bottom of his sock.

"That's right," he said, smiling.

"I love serving you. I love taking care of all your chores," you said, suddenly remembering your training. "I love doing it all while you sit back, like a real man should."

"Hahaha. Correct, silly. You love having a big, dumb jock boyfriend to serve and to show off, don't you babe?"

"Of course sir," you said, licking his sock now. You loved the way the sweaty fibers felt along your tongue.

"Yeah. A little artsy nerd like you doesn't usually end up with a hot jock boyfriend, do they?"

"No sir," you said, slowly starting to kiss his feet. "I still can't believe that someone as sexy as you actually likes me."

"Exaccccctly boy. I could tell a dude like you would give up all their self respect for some attention from a guy like me. Nah, you'll be a good, loyal boy for the rest of your life, as long as I gave these big feet for you to serve," he said. "And this body," he said, slowly rolling up his shirt, revealing a 6 pack and big pillow pecs.

"Yes sir," you said, hypnotized by his form. "Yes. I get to worship you for the rest of my life."

"You're such a horny little slut."

"Just for you, sir."

"So you don't mind taking care of a few chores in exchange, right babe?"

"Not at all sir," you said, practically making out with his foot now. "I'm sorry if I said anything. I'm so lucky to get to clean up after you, Sir."

"See? Everything's so much better when you just do what I tell you to, isn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good boy. Now why don't you go get my dinner started, then you can suck my cock after?"

"Of course, sir," you said, walking into the kitchen, smiling with his musk still fresh on your face.

Being his bitch was the best.

The two new immigrants in town will make you forget about who raised you… You look up to them now. Whilst they’re busy studying medicine at Oxbridge you will study the nature of their big brown Muslim cocks.

You will forget about finding the woman of your dreams because they own you now, you are their slave and that’s all you’ll ever be.

From now on you’ll dress modest to please them, no more shorts and shirts, sometimes he’ll let you wear the burqa of his previous white slave. It makes you so hard, but you try not to make it too obvious…

Its not your cock that gives you pleasure anymore its his

You'd dreamed of leaving this town once.

Moving to a big city, being surrounded by other creative gay people like you.

But that was before him.

Your neighbor.

He’d gotten divorced recently. It wasn’t hard to tell why. His wife traveled a lot for work, which he didn't like. You could tell from the constant arguments you heard. He'd say such old school, dumb shit, like women should be in the home, not out traveling and working. You'd always thought he was a square, suburban loser, mad the world was changing around him and he wasn't keeping up.

But that was before....

Before the day he invited you in for dinner while your parents were away the summer after you graduated college. You still didn't know why you'd said yes. You figured a free meal couldn't be that bad.

But once you were inside you didn't see any food, and theb he'd walked up to you, towering over you, and told you you were going to make him dinner.

And you hadn't know why, but you did get to work on his dinner. Well, you knew why, kinda- because your cock had gotten rock hard almost instantly at his command- but you didn't know why that had happened- why this man telling you what to do made you hard and drooling and eager to please someone you'd despised.

But you knew now.

Master had explained it all to you. He had to, since you were a dumb beta boy. He'd made you realize that, and that you needed a man like him to explain things to you. Thinking wasn't for you, you knew now.

He told you he'd tell you why you wanted to move away soon while you cooked, eyes glazed as you prepared his dinner and he stood behind you, massaging you gently, whispering into your ear.

You didn't care about being around other artsy people, or gay people.

You just wanted to find a boyfriend. A man. That's what all your ideas about moving were about. Sex. You were just a dick crazed little homo, after all. You thought if you went off to a big city, you could find a dream guy. A guy you could serve.

And he was right. That was all you wanted, really. You thought it was about love... but it was just about sex. A man who could hold you, own you, a man you could worship. That was what you wanted.

Because moving would've been settling, he told you.

That part confused you at first. But Master always made everything make sense once he explained it. That's why he was Master. Somehow, every deep desire you'd never admitted and others you'd never even realized were plain as day to him. That's how you knew he was inescapable. He knew your wiring better than you did, He knew your body's code, and how to manipulate it. Incident after incident, you slowly accepted that you weren't in control of your body. He was. You were simply an extension of him, of his will, like an instrument he could use.

But back to moving being a form of settling.

The thing was, since deep down, deeeeeeep down, all you wanted was sex, not love, a gay guy wasn't ideal for you.

Your sex crazed body, desperate to submit, searched for one thing in a man.

Power.

Power you'd have no choice but to submit to.

And who better than a chauvinistic, suburban straight man who truly believed having a cock meant there should be someone to wait on him, pick up after him, and serve him at all times?

You didn't want someone to love and understand you. You wanted someone who'd degrade you and could still have you begging for their cock. An alpha. A stern, stoic man, not a sensitive little beta boy like you.

You'd just never dreamed that was possible, he'd told you, stroking the side of your face with his hand, immobilizing you. You'd given up on it. You'd accepted that at best, you could date a gay dom. But you didn't have to settle, he'd told you. You could serve a real man now, one who was put on this earth to be obeyed, all without ever leaving your town.

So you gave up all those dreams in favor of making sure he had a hot meal on the table every night when he'd get home.

You gave up moving away. Making sure he had someone to stock his fridge and clean his house was more important.

You gave up your dream of leaving this small town, of escaping this boring place, and let him trap you in the loop of a suburban life, literally. You'd left your parents a note that you'd moved suddenly, so you couldn't leave his house in case they'd see you. But you... didn't mind at all. You felt yourself starting to love being in this town, love being a housewife.

You slowly grew to love your routine: wake up, iron his work clothes, start preparing his dinner, do his laundry, clean his house, and wait for him to come home. You'd lay his night clothes out for him, pick his dirty work clothes off the floor where he'd drop them, and get him his slippers. Then you'd serve him his dinner and hand him his dinner, which he'd read the entire time, ignoring you. Anything you said was met with a uncaring grunt. It made you want his attention more and more, cook more and more complicated meals hoping for a reaction, but always the same nonchalant responses from him, building a growing sense of desperation in you to please him. To make him happy. To know you were doing a good job...

...Which would have you in the perfect headspace for the next part of the night. You'd clean his plate, then head into thr living room, where he'd lay his huge, hairy body out on the recliner, kick his big man feet up, and wait for you to serve. You'd drop to your knees, recalling the first time he'd made you do this. He'd told you to serve your purpose. You understood completely. Your purpose was to worship, to be obedient to an alpha like him. You'd fallen to your knees, taking his foot in your mouth. They were so big. They radiated power. He looked sp right sprawled out like that, waiting to be worshipped. You kissed and licked his big, sweaty feet every night like it was the first time. They'd always been special to you. They were the first part of him you ever worshipped. They'd made you give up everything you'd ever wanted and cared about. You lived to serve them, now, and him.

When you were done with his feet you'd move up to rubbing his back and his thick, bulging biceps. They were hypnotizing. So big, like his arms were inflated. Hammers like that were the sign of a real man, so you weren't too surprised the first time your mouth drifted from them, deep in a trance, following the scent to his hairy, sweaty pits and started licking them. You'd gasped and shuddered, snapping out of it for a minute, simultaneously repulsed and entranced by the bitter taste of his sweat, but he just sat there, watching TV, knowing your repulsion would turn to lust, knowing a growing need for that taste was building within you.

You'd squirmed a little. Some part of you still struggled. For a second, you thought you had too much self-respect for this. You didn't want to be this suburban loser's pit licker. But... of course you did, you thought as your eyes fell back to his huge biceps and back down to his dark, hairy pits. They were so bushy. So manly. They demanded respect, like him. To lick his armpits was an honor. You wanted to lick his yummy, manly pits. You wanted him to know he had total control over you, that you'd do anything for him. Nothing was too humiliating. You were smacking your lips together now, sucking the taste left in your mouth down- the taste of his godly sweat. You were suddenly drooling for it, wanting to lick every drop up. You dove back into his pit, licking it all over, and cleaning his sweaty pits after you massaged his back and arms became part of your nightly ritual.

Your nightly ritual slowly got longer and longer as you became more consumed with serving him, licking every inch of his toes and pits and eventually his thick, hairy chest you'd lay your head on and feel warm and safe, sucking on his nipple while he watched tv and ignored you.

And then one night he popped his pants open, whipped his cock out, and fucked you like a ragdoll. You lost it when you saw it, mounting him instantly. For once, he smiled.

"You've learned your purpose, boy. You're ready to become mine, fully."

Hia filled you with pleasure, sending waves of relaxation through you that let him easily slid into you.

Your eyes rolled back. In that moment you were entirely broken- once a free sprit yearning to leave your town and see the world, now just another soul content to cook and clean and get fucked by some guy who didn't really care about them.

But that didn't matter. When you found a man- a master- someone with a cock like his who knows how to use it, none of that matters. Being treated well doesn't matter. Being respected doesn't matter. Only he matters. Night after night as he laid back and stared at you with his uncaring, superior gaze, stretching his feet out and arms overhead to show off his bushy pits, you saw yourself less and less as your own person snd simply as an extension of him. All he had to do was lay back like that, and you were his. A tool for his pleasure, like an appliance. Men like him could do that. They could draw you in, make you forget yourself and fill you up with your own desires till you forgot who you were at all. They could replace all your. dreans with a need to settle down and serve them. You'd always swore it'd never happen to you, but now you understood how easily it could happen, how easily a nice pair of arms and a stern voice could make your life and body theirs.

You rode him, letting him lay back while you did all the work. You spluttered and moaned, drool dripping out of your mouth and down your chest as you caught a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth on him, pulling him deeper and deeper into you. But he was pretty nonchalant, as usual, turning his attention mostly to the tv and only back to you from time to time. You just wanted him to smile, to tell you you'd done a good job, but you knew he probably wouldn't. But maybe, one day if you were good enough, he would.

Everything kind of got fuzzy once he emptied his balls into you, face still expressionless. You felt his thick cock pulsing in you, felt his hot cum filling you, and you fell forward onto his chest, face landing in his pit. His dick was still in you, still pumping you full of the last few drops of him. You shuddered and nuzzled against his hairy chest as his thick arms curled around you and your own wrapped around him inatinctively, clinging to him tight.

"Fuck me every night, sir," you gasped. "Let me please your cock like I'm meant to. Fuck me every night," you repeated over and over. You thought you'd wanted him bad before, but now you needed him. You felt your entire bosy burning with desire for him, for his cock.

He kissed your forehead and you practically melted. "See? I told you I could take you deeper. How do you like it, boy," he said, pulsing his cock in you another two or three times, watching you shudder.

"Fuck me every night, sir," was all you could say. You- who.. were... you...? But then you felt his warm body under you and you knew.

You were his slave.

That was all you ever were.

That was all you ever would be.

Your phone dinged- it was an email from your college. You'd been waiting for it all summer- you'd been dying to know what dorm you'd be in and who your roommate would be.

You were super excited for college, to be around other smart people, especially since you were going to an Ivy League. You'd kind of been an nerd in high school, but thought that in college, brains might be appreciated over brawn. You'd imagined it a lot- being around other smart people who could actually have a discussion, instead of the homophobic idiots you went to school with, the dumb jocks you had to take classes with, all the dumbasses who cared more about football than books and things like that. You hated being around these idiots more and more every year. Even though you always wished you looked more built, you never let yourself work out or go to the gym. You didn't want to be anything like them.

Grinning, googled your roommates name excitedly and found an Instagram….

Your jaw dropped. This had to be a joke.

He looked just like every stupid muscle head jock you been trying to get away from! You, scrolled and scrolled, hoping your opinion would change, but every picture was just him at the gym, or faxing, or at some party scene like a beach. He was really hot, but you didn’t really want a hot roommate, you just wanted a cool roommate.

You sighed, closing your laptop. There was no sense stressing about it now. You couldn’t really tell how a person was from a picture, anyway. Maybe he was a cool guy who just happened to work out.

But then school started, and your roommate was worse than you imagined- an annoying, pompous jock who thought he knew everything. All he talked about was lifting, dumb motivational sayings, and partying. He wasn't actually dumb- but that just somehow made it worse. It just added to his smug, superior attitude knowing he wasn't a typical dumb jock- and he loved to hear himself talk, always went on and on about everything to show you how much he knew. He wasn't even that douchey- he was just annoying as hell, always thinking he knew more and better, always acting like this great person so people would think that about him. He was even hotter in person, until he opened his mouth at least and the dumbest shit you ever heard seemed to come out of it without fail every time. Now, every time he spoke, he rolled your eyes and automatically tuned him out. It was the only way you could bear having to room with him.

It was awful at first, but the year is going by pretty fast. Before you knew it, winter break was here you were busy packing the last few things to head home. Ironically, you were as excited about going home as you have been to arrive at college. You couldn’t wait to be by yourself, away from this idiot, and not have to hear him or hear about working out or anything like that for a couple of days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You went to grab it, but your roommate was right next to it, so he passed it over to you. His eyebrows raised as he stared at the screen. “Shit, man.”

“What?” You said as you took the phone. It was a gmail notification.

FLIGHT CANCELLED.

Your stomach dropped. You were already leaving late because your last final had been on the last day the school was open, at the dorms and closed for break that night at midnight. You lived across the country.

“Fuck! What am I supposed to do now,” you said more to yourself and more out of frustration than to him. You didn’t even consider that his dumbass would have any ideas for you.

“Well, why don’t you come stay with me for a little while?”

You looked up at him, eyebrow raised and pretty surprised that he’d offer, till you remembered he was too dumb and clueless to realize how much you didn't like him. You wanted to tell him it was fine, no thanks… but you had no other options now, aside from maybe sleeping in the airport till the blizzard passed. That could be hours or even days, though

“You mean it?”

“Of course man! Look, I know we’re not like, best buds, or gym bros or anything like that, I’m not just gonna leave you stranded here. I’m heading out in like an hour. You can come stay at my place a night or two until you can figure out another flight.”

It wasn’t ideal, but like you’d already realized, you had no other choice right now. You packed the last of your things and put them in his car. The snow was already starting when you left, and came down harder and harder as you drove the 20 or 30 minutes over to his house. You were kind of scared sometimes, but he was actually a really good driver. Anytime this car slid or skidded even a little, it was like he knew exactly what to do to get it back on track. His big muscular arm bulged now and then as he gripped the steering wheel tight when the Jeep had fishtailed briefly a few times, and you caught yourself staring at it a little too long more than once. It was honestly really impressive to watch, you would’ve been freaking out if the car skidded at all like that, but he stayed totally calm. Maybe he did know a thing or two after all.

He already texted his parents and explanation of why you were coming, so they had a plate the food ready for you when you arrived. You weren’t that surprised to see the rest of his family was kind of like him. He had a brother who was like a little jock in training, and a Dad who was like a veteran jock. The conversation was pretty similar to what you’d expected – nothing really substantial, with each of them nodding dumbly every time one of them said something equally dumb.

Once dinner was done you headed upstairs with him.

"So, there's a guest room, but there's also a bed in my room that used to be my brothers. I think you should sleep in that one. It'll be a lot more comfortable."

"I dunno-"

"C'mon man! It'll be just like at school! Plus, there's a bathroom in there. Otherwise you have to share with the rest of my family," he said with a big dumb grin. You sighed. He was just so oblivious, but he had saved your ass letting you stay here, and you didn't want to be rude.

"Alright, fine," you said, heading into his room with him. You saw a picture of him and his brother on his dresser. They were identical. A gold chain necklace was draped over the frame.

"You guys were twins?"

"Yeah..."

"Where did he go?" you asked.

He shrugged. "Fell in love with some girl from another country. Out of the blue, he told us he was moving there with her. Had a big fight with me and my parents over it, and hasn't talked to anyone since. It really sucks. He was my main gym bro."

"Ah, that sucks," you said, not sure of what to say.

"Anyway, lets get to bed," he said, sliding his shirt and pants off. It was a shame he was so dumb, because you would have thought he was so sexy otherwise. He'd been right though- this bed was really comfy. You drifted off to sleep after a few moments, exhausted from packing.

He slid out of bed, opened the closet, and pulled a pair of his brother's old gym shoes out. They were so rank he could smell them from a couple feet away. He slid them under your bed quietly and stepped back, watching the smell seep into you. Your nose wrinkled at first, but he smiled when you started to draw slow, deep inhales of the scent. Then, he pulled his sweaty gym clothes out from earlier, wringing them out into a cologne bottle he left on the bathroom counter.

"Night night, future gym bro," he said, getting back under his covers.

You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and lethargic. When you opened your eyes, you saw him in the bathroom with the door open, doing the same morning routine he did at school. The thing was, you never really saw him do it that much, because you always avoided using the bathroom when he was in there, otherwise he'd start talking your ear off. He was washing his face. His thick muscles shifted with every slight movement. You knew he was showing off, but fuck was he sexy. It was early and you were still pretty groggy and horny and half-asleep, so much so that you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. You felt like an asshole, suddenly. He'd invited you here in an emergency, and you'd been rude and judgmental the whole time. His chiseled abs contracted as he bent over the sink and scrubbed his face.

He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned over to you. "Hey man," he said, "Yo. c'mere. You gotta smell this cologne I just got."

You rolled your eyes, but instead of being annoyed, you smiled. He was so cute, in a dumb way. You got up and walked into the bathroom, pulling your boner into your pants elastic so he wouldn't see it. It was good you did, because you felt your cock surge as he raised his arms and sprayed the cologne into his muscular pits.

His biceps peaked as he did. He looked like a model. And the cologne smelled amazing. He noticed you watching him flex and smirked. "You like those, huh? Haha," he said with a laugh.

"Uh- yeah man, really cut... ha ha" you said, trying to play it cool.

"We could get your like that I think," he said, gripping your tiny arms with his big hands.

"Haha, no thanks," you said, stepping back. Still, the scent of the cologne drifted over to you. You had to admit, it smelled pretty good. Kind of familiar, too.

"C'mon man, why not?"

"The gym really isn't my thing."

"Have you ever even been?" he asked, giving his pits another blast of cologne.

"No. Just really not my thing," you said. You got another huge whiff of the cologne just as you turned away from the door. You stopped suddenly. Damn, it smelled good- like it was getting better and better by the second. You took a deep whiff. You didn't want to walk away from it.

"Yo, what brand is that?"

"It's an off brand," he said, "i dunno really."

"Can I try some?" you said, taking another deep inhale. The smell was invigorating. It made you feel like you were bursting with energy- energy you needed to release.

He smirked. "If you come to the gym with me, maybe."

You were about to say no, but you really, really wanted to try that cologne. Plus, you had so much energy now, you needed some way to burn it off. And what else would you do all day? Sit around with his weird family?

"Ok, fine," you said, "But I'm just doing the treadmill though. Maybe an eliptical."

He shrugged. "Everyone's gotta start somewhere. What matters is, we're finally gym bros dude!"

"I don't know about all that," you said with a laugh, going to put your shoes on. He was so dumb and easily pleased. Like, who gave a shit if you went to the gym with him or not? Why did it matter so much?

You frowned down as you tried to put your shoes on. For some reason, they seemed smaller. You could barley fit them on, like your foot had grown overnight or something.

"Hey man, i got you," he said, reaching under his brothers bed. He pulled a pair of gym shoes out for you. "These should fit."

You picked them up. They smelled familiar and nice, kind of like the cologne. You were really excited to wear them for some reason, and after you put them on, you felt even better about your decision to go to the gym. You rocked your legs back and forth, bursting with energy. "You ready dude?" you said.

"Lets get it," he said nodding you out the door. "Oh wait. Almost forgot." He reached into his bag and tossed the bottle of cologne over to you. "All yours, man," he said with a grin.

"Thanks bruh," you said, spraying a thick coating under your arms. You wondered why you were talking like that, but as the cologne filled your nose, the thought faded away.

You'd stayed on the treadmill for a while at first, but even there, you were shocked at how fast you could run without getting tired. His brother's old gym shoes were so broken in and cushioned that it felt like you were running on air. But you'd been watching him while he lifted, watching him while the cologne you drenched yourself in seeped into your nose. Running wasn't enough. You needed something to release more energy. You headed over to him, asking if you could join.

"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. He was drenched in sweat that got all over your clothes. "Here, hit some curls with me," he'd said, handing you a dumbbell. It felt weird but... right in your hand, like you'd finally undergone some masculine right of passage you'd been putting off. You lifted it, but with terrible form.

"Nah man, like this," he said, springing up, and before you knew it he was behind you, his big frame dwarfing yours, and gripped your hands with his own, pushing them up into a proper curl.

"See man? Just like this. Up.... and down," he said slowly into your ear.

He did it a couple times. It felt nice, having him show you. He was a real nice guy, you thought, feeling his hands gripping you own. Your eyes started to glaze over- but when he left go, you immediately started overcompensating with your back. In a flash, he was behind you again.

"Nah bro. You're thinking too much," he said slowly. "Stop. Thinking." he said, gripping your hands again. You were about to tell him to fuck off, but the thought faded away suddenly as his skin touched yours. All your thoughts did, Your head became an empty vacuum.

"Up," he said slowly into your ear, lifting your arms.

Up. Yes. Up. The single directive rushed in to fill the entirety of your empty mind. Up. Up. Up.

He lowered them slowly, maintaining the tension. "And Down."

And Down. Yes. The other two words entered your brain, filling any gaps missed by Up. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

"Up. And Down.," he said in your ear. "That's all that matters. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down."

Your lips began to say the words slowly, matching your movements. Your eyes became totally glazed, and this time, when he let go, you didn't stop. You kept moving with the perfect form he'd just programed into you while he picked up his own dumbbells and lifted next to you moving in sync... it felt so.. nice... moving up...and down....up... and down...

You hadn't remembered much more after that till you were both in the locker room, drenched in sweat after a full workout.

"Great job, man," he said, pulling you in for a high-five hug again. Your sweaty bodies and pumped muscles rubbed against each other in the exchange.

"Thanks bro," you said, still invigorated from the workout. It felt fuckin great. And he'd been so great, showing you proper form for every move, correcting you, adjusting the weight for you. As you both left, you once again felt like an ass for being so rude to him all these months...

When you got home and showered, you felt something itchy under your arms. Checking it out, you noticed your pit hair had gotten a lot darker and thicker. You shrugged. You were almost a year younger than most of your classmates with the way your birthday fell. It must've been the final strokes of puberty, or something.

You headed into your roommate's room for bed. He was propped up in bed in just his underwear, massaging himself with a theragun, nearly moaning. You laughed as you looked at him. He smirked, realizing how funny it looked.

"Laugh all you want, dude, but if you tried it, you'd feel the same way."

"Lemme try then. I'm pretty sore from today already. I still can't believe you convinced me to do weights."

"Haha. I knew you had it in you bro," he said, walking over to you with the theragun. "Aren't you glad you did?"

"Yeah," you said honestly. It had actually felt surprisingly good.

"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. "Good shit bro. The treadmill is for pussies. You gotta pump these guns, otherwise you're wasting time."

You were about to argue when the theragun hit your sore tricep. The thought slowly faded away as bursts of pleasure rippled out from your muscles. You fell onto the bed, overwhelmed by the feeling, but he kept the gun on you steadily the whole time, watching you squirm and moan. It didn't just feel like a massage, it felt like a whole other workout. You felt the blood pumping into your arms, felt them getting warmer as they bulged and swelled. It felt incredible. He moved around to your bicep, then shoulders, then upper back. He lifted your arms to get underneath them, and you thought you saw his eyes linger on your hairy pits, smiling at them, but you were too preoccupied to think about it. You weren't sure how long he kept at it, but by time he was done, you felt amazing.

"Woah, thanks brah."

"Anytime. Why don't you wash up? We gotta be up early to hit the gym."

"For sure bro," you said, standing up and heading to the bathroom. Yeah, you'd hit the gym again tomorrow. It wasn't even a question, really.

Your eyes widened as you stared in the mirror. You arms looked huge! They hadn't looked this big when you'd gotten out of the shower.

He noticed you admiring them. "It's the theragun, and the uh.... the hot shower. Gets the blood pumped into them. It'll probably be gone in the morning," he said.

"Oh...makes sense," you said, brushing your teeth and sliding into bed.

Once he heard you snoring, he slipped out of bed and grabbed his shaving cream, heading into the bathroom. He whipped his thick cock out and stared at a couple of bimbos getting fucked on his phone, shooting a hot, huge load right into the cream. He swirled it around with his finger, mixing it, then dabbed a bit onto his hand as he headed over to you. He gently spread it over your face, smearing the extra under your pits. Smiling, he went to bed.

You woke up the next day feeling sore and... itchy. You thought it was the pillow, but no matter how you moved, the feeling never went away. Blinking, you scratched at your face, where the feeling was coming from. Your hand met a rough surface. You felt around your face until you realized it was... stubble? But you'd only really had that above your lips. You felt more and more, but it was definitely there.

He looked over to the bathroom. He was up already, shaving in the mirror. He caught your eye again “Hey man. Sleep good?“

“Yeah man, but it looks like some of my facial hair came in overnight or something. It's all itchy.”

You scratched it again, but then thought another itchy, feeling coming out from under your arm. Lifting your arm, you noticed that your pit hair looked even thicker and darker than the night before. And despite what he said about the Theragun and shower, your arms still looked huge. You stare at your body, confused. That late puberty really was hitting you like a train.

"Hey bro, that’s just what happens when you get that testosterone pumping. Come here, I’ll take care of that for you. Just let me finish up.“

You approached as he lifted his chin, showing off his thick neck and sliding his shaver across it. It was strange to watch. You were the same age, and he looked so natural doing it, but it was something you'd never done before. You never had enough facial hair to.

He turned to you, lifting your chin up with one finger, inspecting your stubble. He looked pleased for some reason. He grabbed a jar of shaving cream and opened it- but he hadn't used any? With his razor, he could shave dry, so why-

He smeared the shaving cream on your face, and the cool, minty feeling wiped the question from your mind. Your eyes drooped to his beefy pecs and six pack in front of you as he moved the razor softly over your skin. "You just go nice and slow, just like this," he said, shaving you delicately. Your heart beat faster. It felt weirdly... intimate. You guessed this was something Dad's or older brothers showed youhow to do, but you hadn't had one. You watched intently, trying not to shudder where his fingers grazed your skin. What was weird was, even as the razor removed the hair, it seemed to leave more stubble behind.. but... you liked it. You almost looked... hot. He kept going, till you had a thick 5 o clock shadow just like his.

"I'll let you finish up," he said, sliding you the shaved and shaving cream. "You should shave your pits too, brah. Makes lifting easier. Less irritation."

"Sounds good man," you said, smearing a thick coating of shaving cream onto your hairy pits. It tingled like before. Just like with your face, even though it removed the hair, it seemed to leave more hair follicles behind. You squinted at it. Probably just a trick of the light.

"Ready to hit the gym again?"

"Hell yeah," you said. "But I just have to check flights first-"

"Ah, you know, I was gonna check for you earlier, but our Wifi was acting up."

"That's cool. I can just check on my phone."

"Alright. But just get dressed first," he said, handing you his brothers shoes again.

You were going to tell him to just wait, but the sight of the shoes got you excited. You'd felt really good wearing them.

"Alright," you said, taking them and eagerly sliding them on. The second you tied them, you stood up, pumping your legs one after another. You felt ready to go!

"Oh. and don't forget the cologne. You don't wanna smell like sweat, ya know," he said with a laugh as he tossed you the bottle. It excited you, just like the shoes. You sprayed about ten or eleven sprays on you, letting the scent fill your nose. It smelled even better than the day before. You felt filled with energy, invigorated again, like you needed to get out and release it. But first you just had to... had.... to... look... at...... you................had................to..........look..........at......f....???

"Yo, was I gonna do something man?" you asked, brow hunching in the same confused, dumb way his usually did.

"Yeah. You were gonna wear my gym clothes since you don't have your own. You just asked like a minute ago, man, haha. Remember?"

"Ah, my bad," you said laughing. You'd really zoned out there, haha. You threw on the muscle tee and thigh shorts he tossed you. They must've been from a three pack or something, because he put on the same exact ones.

"Lets get it, brah," he said, slapping you on the back.

"Lets gooo!" you said back, and you guys headed out.

It was the same as the day before. You were doing shoulder presses awfully at first, feeling awkward and self concious, but then his hands were under your arms and his voice was in your ear.

"Up and down, bro. Up and down. That's all that matters. Let all those other thoughts, other things you know about go. They're just weighing you down. You only need to know three things, bro."

You nodded, eyes glazing over again. "Up. And Down," you said, pressing the weight overhead cleanly. "Up. And Down," you repated, sinking into a smooth rhythm of presses. He stood next to you again, lifting at the same time as you. You felt yourself sweating all your thoughts out, getting dumber by the second. You knew you should stop but- buuu- u- up....

Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

He took you through a bunch of other exercises, reminding you whenever he saw you lose focus. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

You both got home an hour or two later, still panting and dripping with sweat from your lifts.

"That was sick, bro," he said, peeling his wet shirt off and bouncing his pecs in the mirror.

"Yeah, I feel great," you said, starting to peel the muscle tee off. It was tight, even before your pump, like it had been clinging to you throughout your workout, warming your chest. Now, it was tight because your chest seemed a lot bigger.

"Chest day best day!" He inhaled deeply. "Ah, you smell that bro? I missed that smell. When me and my twin would get back from the gym, this room would stink up in like 30 seconds and reek for days. Its been a while."

"Damn, it does reek in here," you said with a dumb laugh.

"Breathe it in. That's the smell of hard work, bruh."

You both took a deep inhale, laughing. It was so good having a friend to be a stupid guy with.

"Yeah, man," you said, finally managing to peel the shirt off. Your chest looked huge, wide, and puffy. Almost exactly like his... that was... weird....but they looked so... so... good... just like your shoulders you'd hit that day... and your back.... your lats looked like... like wings... wings..... flight.... wasn't there something you were supposed to do with a fligh-

You let out a gasp that turned into an "ahhhhhh" as he hit your sore muscles with the theragun. Part of you was realizing what was happening. You were still smart- somewhere in there. You were... you were somehow turning into him, literally. You tried to think about how, but it hurt. All the blood your brain was used to was flowing into your shoulders and chest as he massaged them. Thinking felt... bad... but... what was in the mirror looked... good.... yeah. You looked fucking good, like this. Yo.... you looked so good haha. Thinking.... bad.... lifting.... good... blood in... muscles.... not in.... brain.... lift.... more... get... sexier.

You felt energy surge through you again. Instinctually, you flexed in the mirror the way he did in the morning, grunting and scrunching your face. Toned muscle bulged under your skin as more and more blood and oxygen left your brain and poured into your muscles. You looked big, but you still felt small. You needed to get bigger... it felt.... urgent... like any time you spent not working out was time wasted. Your thoughts faded as he moved the theragun over you and your chest. It almost was like an exact replica of his.

Your eyes moved to him.

Gym.... bro.... love my.... gym.... bro.... love my..... bro.... wanna.... workout.... with my... bro

"Yo, it's still pretty early bro. You think we could lift again tonight, after dinner?"

"That's what I'm talkin about man," he said, slapping you on the back. "Love seeing you finally motivated to get in the gym and work on yourself."

"Feels great, dude," you said, hitting another pose in the mirror, staring at your muscles. Bigger.... need to.... get.... bigger...

"I told ya so."

"I know. I should've listened earlier. You're so smart, man."

"Haha, thanks man. Lets go get our protein in so we can get out there again. I'll go make our shakes. You shower first man- you stink," he said with a laugh.

"Haha," you said, lifting your pit and taking a big whiff of it. You did reek, but it smelled good, in a way. Like a sign of your hard work.

"Damn bro. I'm gonna need a gas mask in here," he joked, laughing as he walked out.

You laughed back. Joking with your bro was the best. You got into the shower, feeling all the new muscle in your body move under your skin. Feeling its power. The hot water just exacerbated it. You felt big- strong- but needed to get bigger- stronger- the thought was constant.

But- this wasn't... you?

You didn't... care about this stuff.

No.

This was all wrong. What were you doing lifting, focusing on superficial shit like this? What were you doing hanging around with this idiot? No- you had to get out of here. You'd be polite to him, but as soon as you got out of the shower, you'd book a flight for the next day. Enough of this! You'd been getting swayed by a pretty boy being nice to you, and it needed to stop.

He came in with the protein shakes just as you got out of the shower.

"Here you go man," he said, handing it to you. "Gave you a little extra," he said with a wink. Your glass had a little more in it than his did.

"Thanks dude," you said, putting it down. Fuck him and his protein shakes! "I'll have it in a minute. I just remembered I need to look up flights."

"You should really drink it first," he said, handing it back to you. "It's best to drink it as soon as possible. You don't wanna stay small, do you?"

Small? Small? No- never small- big- need to be big- big- huge- need- protein-

"Fuck no," you said suddenly, and before you could stop yourself you were grabbing it and gulping it down. It tasted good. Creamy. Really creamy.

"Damn that's good," you said, cheersing with him when he finished his. It was like you could feel the protein seeping through your body, repairing you. It felt so good. You felt confused, though.

"Yo, was I about to do something?" you asked.

"Yeah man. We were gonna do our meal preps for the rest of break. I'm so glad you decided to spend break here to focus on working out instead of going home with your family," he said.

"Huh? No, no, something with my phone..."

"Yeah man, remember? You were gonna tell your family you weren't gonna make it home this year. You really wanted to see them, but you didn't wanna waste a whole month away from your gym bro when you could be learning from me & making gains. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah yeah," you said. That made sense. Why else would you be here "Hell yeah man! Three solid weeks of nothing but lifting with my bro. No stupid classes or reading to distract us from what matters."

"Exactly man," he said, "C'mon, lets go make our meals for the week. Chicken broccoli and rice city!" You did, then headed to the gym.

You did legs this time.

"Just remember," he said as you got under the squat rack.

You nodded vacantly, feeling your mind slowly emptying again of everything except those three words. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.... Up ... And.... Down....

The next thing you knew you were grunting and dripping sweat as you boosted the 6 plates on your last rep up. Your legs were throbbing, bulging, and felt amazing. They looked bigger already, and you'd only done 4 sets of one exercise. He nodded approvingly.

You both got back from the 2nd round at the gym a couple hours later, scarfing your meals down out of your microwavable meal prep trays.

"Yo, did you see all those pussies on the treadmill staring at us?" you laughed.

"Of course man," he said, laughing back. "That's all they can do," he said as he flexed his huge, pumped muscles. "Stare and wish they were us."

"Feels good," you said, scarfing down your food. Both of you ate like pigs, spilling rice and shredded chicken all over your laps and the sides of your mouths. He went to get your protein shakes, and came back a few minutes later, once again with yours a little bit more full and creamy than his. Extra supps, he told you. When you were done, you cracked open the six pack his Dad had bought for you guys and started slamming them down while watching Family Guy, both laughing dumbly every couple minutes at it. You used to hate this show... but it was so funny! You'd just never given it a chance.

About 2 hours later, with empty beer cans strewn all around the room, you guys decided to get to bed. He went into the bathroom first, brushing his teeth and whipping his dick out to take a long, hot piss in the toilet. His eyes flickered over to your toothbrush, and he smiled. Grabbing it, he dropped it in front of his stream of piss, making sure to soak it thoroughly before putting it back in the holder.

You came in once he was done and started brushing your teeth. Your toothbrush felt warm and tasted kind of funny, thank you, fuck it. You instinctually swallowed it as the taste hit your tongue, sucking it deep in to your stomach. It felt like your stomach was rumbling, then tightening, then pushing out, then tightening again. When you were done brushing your teeth, you lifted your shirt up to reveal a nice set of toned abs just like his. You smiled. Damn, he was a really good coach.

You stared into the mirror, reflecting on how much you'd changed over the last few days. You smiled dumbly, hitting pose after pose in the mirror. In pretty much everything but your face, you looked just like him now. Your arms were thick and corded, your pecs sat nice and high, your legs were ripped, stomach shredded. Even your feet had gotten bigger, going from a size 8 to a size 13, just like his, and you'd grown a few inches, too. Wait... taller? You didn't get taller from the gym...

...

...and why were you his exact height?

You threw open the bathroom door.

"Yo, what's going on here?"

"What do you mean, bro? Chill."

"Nah man. Are you like, turning me into you or some shit? This isn't cool, bro," you said, struggling to talk like how you used to, before "bro" and "man" and "bruh" were every other word?

He smiled. "Into me? Of course not. You could never be me. But I am making you into my twin brother, bro. Haha."

"Well it stops now, weirdo. I'm outta her-"

He grabbed your arms, pulling them towards your head, forcing you to flex. You let out a moan as blood pumped out of your brain, into your sore muscles. It felt so good. So warm... so.... relaxing. But, no, you had to leave – he turned you towards the mirror, showing you your reflection as you flexed. You gave a dumb smile at the hunk staring back at you, at all your hard work- no, he wasn’t gonna get you like this again---

"Just look at yourself, bro," he said slowly massaging your thick traps. Waves of heat flowed over you- no– you had to- leave. He bent down, lifting your leg onto the ball of your foot. Your thick calf muscles contracted, stealing more blood from your brain, pumping more down into your body. It felt so good after a long workout. So good. So waaaaarm, you thought while he bent you into pose after pose like his mannequin and you stared in awe at what you'd become. You were.... hot.

"You’re telling me you don’t like this, bro? That you'd rather be a little nerdy bitch like before?"

It– it felt so… Good... you looked so… Good... you look like… Someone you would’ve thirsted after for months before .. you... loved it. It felt good. Before you knew it, he'd taken his brother's chain off the dresser and fastened it around your neck.

Your mind instantly blanked as he did it. What the fuck were you thinking? Leaving? When he was fucking turning you into a god for free? What kinda ungrateful piece of shit loser was the old you? Nah, he wanted nothing to do with that shit. You were lucky to be here.

"I was gonna wait until we were done to do this to you, but since that nerd in you has so much fight apparently, we can just get it over with now. It doesn’t really matter," he said.

"You want to act like a fag? I’ll treat you like a fag, boy," he said grabbing your head and rubbing it against his bulge. His big. Warm.. bulge... Your eyes glazed even more. "That's right, broski. Tell me how you really feel."

He was fucking sexy. You tried to lie to yourself all year and tell yourself that you didn’t like him, that he was annoying, that he was an idiot. But still, you stared at him whenever you could, every time he'd come into the room with his towel... take a peek every time he was in his boxers. Pretended you didn’t like him and denied it. But you did. You hated the girls that he brought back to the room because you wished it was you in there, getting pounded out by him, or maybe you wished you were him, getting to be such a stupid fucking asshole and still getting all the ass you wanted. He must’ve felt like a king.

You suddenly realize'd that you said all this out loud. Your mouth dropped open in surprise- but- how...

"Good, good. Now tell me, wouldn’t it feel nice if someone felt that way about you, boy?" Your eyes lit up.

"Me?"

"Yeah you. You’re going to be a God just like me boy. And I get the gym bro! Everyone wins."

You nodded slowly as he pulled his cock out, rubbing it against your face. Yeaaaaaah. Jock cock. You'd always loved jock cock when you'd been.... gay? No, you weren't gay... you'd never been gay. This was just bonding with your bro, haha.

Your tongue lapped up the precum off the tip of his dick. He shuddered, his cut, muscular hips thrusting instinctually. Your mouth opened just as automatically, sucking his cock. It felt so easy to hold yourself up with your new, big muscles as he pounded your mouth. His balls slipped out of his boxers, slapping you in the face as he thrust into you. They smelled great.

"Ahhhhhh yeah," he said, grabbing your hand and placing it on his tight ass. You gripped it, feeling the power from years of squats in it. "We got one more step left, broski. Tomorrow we're gonna put my facecream and gel on you and fix that busted face and wack haircut of yours. You’ll look just like me, bro. And you'll love it. I want that nerd inside of you watching while I snuff the last of him out- well, while you do it, really. He'd hate you so much, now," he said, pulling you off his dick and turning you towards the mirror again. "Look at you now, just a dumb jock big boy."

You smiled goofily in the mirror, flexing again at the sight of yourself. "Dumb jock big boy". The words resonated in your brain. Yeah, dumb jock big boy you thought, flexing harder. Hahaha. No- you weren't a jo- dumb jock big boy. Hahahaha. Yeah, you were just a dumb jock big boy- no- no- you were smar... just a dumb jock big boy. No matter what else you tried to think, it was the only thing your mind would land on. You flexed even more. You couldn't help it. Your body looked... so.... fucking... good. You felt like a ... man. Brutish. Powerful. You had muscles... big... muscles.... you couldn't stop staring... you fely so... powerful... needed... more powee. Needed... to get bigger. Needed... to be a msn not a cyck beta loser.

"That's it. Who's my dumb jock bro?"

"Me," you said proudly.

"I thought you were too good for that shit tho? Too smart?"

"Nah," you said.

"Damn boy, I trained you good."

"Yes. Showed me what matters. Need to get bigger," you said in a trance. Any resistance felt far away now. You couldn't really talk in complete sentences anymore. "Bigger. Stronger. More powerful."

"We will get you there, bro," he said, sliding your mouth back onto his cock. We're going to get you there, together. Plus, then we can be reeeeaaal bros! Like, bros for real. We can tell my parents my bro came back. You can just enroll in school and come back with me. It'll be like he never left. And you actually get to be something, instead of being a dumb nerd. Everyone wins!"

You nodded. Real bros. He was like your brother already, kinda. Yeah.

"I love you bro," you said.

"I love you to bro- ahhh- AHhhhhhh"

You felt his legs tense and back arch a little, and a blast of his cum shot down your throat, then another, then another. The necklace got hot around your neck as you swallowed them. You gulped each down, feeling your body absorbing them, feeling him seep into you, take you over, and crush any chance you had of turning back. Yeah. Good. You didn't want to turn back. You didn't want the nerd loser in you to take control. This was you now. You were in control.

He thrust into you a couple more times as you licked the last of his cum off his cock. He tapped the back of your head twice approvingly as you finished him off and slid his cock out of your mouth.

"See you in the morning, bro. You won't remember this part tomorrow. You'll just wake up, see my putting my moisturizer on and gel in, and come to do the same. Like I said, I want that nerd inside you watching while we complete your transformation, wanting to stop it, but unable to. Because this," he said, placing your hand on his bicep, and placing your other hand on your own bicep, "just feels too good."

You nodded dumbly. "I love you, bro" was all you could say.

"Love you too, bro. Goodnight!"

You woke up the next morning, just as he said, to see him putting the moisturizer all over his face and styling his hair. You walked over, asking him if you could use some. He looked so good. You just really wanted to use whatever he used.

"Sure thing, bro. What's mine is yours."

He passed it to you. You took a thick glob out, smearing it on your face. It tingles a little bit as you put it on, like the shaving cream head. Part of you was yelling, no, that you didn't like this, that you wanted to keep your old life, that you didn't want to be his twin and give up everything you had, but that voice was quiet now. It was drowned out by the demands of your big, hulking body, your shrinking brain, the testosterone pumping through you, and the burning desire you know how to get bigger and look good, constantly. The old you needed to go. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't stop you from rubbing the cream in deeper and deeper. Had... to... look.... good... you thought as you ran a big glob of his white gel through your hair.

You both watched, smiling, as your face bubbled and changed and your hair lightened and shortened, perfectly matching his, erasing the final part of you. His brothers Your chain got hot around your neck as a bunch of his brother's your old memories floated into your head. All the details of his your life, everything you needed to know to convince his your parents that he'd you'd come back home.

"It's so great to have you back, bro," your roommate brother said. "I been so lonely at the gym," he said flexing in the mirror.

"Good to be back, bro," you said, hitting the same pose.

His real brother never did end up coming back. You lived happily ever after as a dumb jock big boy, hitting the gym with your bro everyday.

He saw you working out at the gym most days. You were struggling to start a beginner weigh lifting program, to put some muscle on your lean body. You spent most mornings watching the intro fitness videos on your phone, building up your form, and of course staring at him. He was a huge beefy bear, with big thick muscle gut, massive quads, chest hair spilling out his very tight tank top, and the biggest beard you ever saw. He was very much your type, but you were way too nervous to ever do much more than stare and ogle him from a distance. You looked at him hungrily when he was benching one morning, always surprised at the weight the stocky man was able to lift. Mostly you drooled whenever he walked by you, imagining what it would be like to be as masculine and strong as the bearish man.

In addition to his beefy good looks, he had the most amazing and manly scent about him whenever he would lift. His tank top, he always wore rather tight tank tops to show off his muscle gut, was soaked in minutes of his lifting routine. He was always red faced, sweating and grunting, and it was even more amplified when he was doing dead lifts like today. His musk always caused you to tent up in your shorts, and you would always enjoy a fast and furious wank in the gym showers after your workout when you got to watch him lift. However, today was the day he finally noticed your bulge in your shorts, and instead of getting in your face for perving out on him, he smiled. Instead of saying anything, he walked right next to you after you finished your barbell curls. He waited until no one else was looking, and took the two calloused fingers of his right hand and wiped up all the sweat from his left hairy pit, getting the fingers nice and slick. Then he stuck them in your mouth before you could say anything, your eyes going wide at the lewd and raunchy act. You screwed your eyes shut in pleasure and begins sucking on his outstretched index and middle finger. You moaned audibly, loving the strong earthy taste of his pit sweat, giving in to your natural oral submissive tendencies, and before you knew it , your cock was blowing its load in your pants. You didn't care though, the daddy bear musk was too good. You were on cloud nine, even with the spreading dark stain on your baggy basketball shorts.

He smiled at you upon seeing you shoot and started leading you back to the locker room. He moved past the lockers and showers and approached the sauna. There was no one in there, and he fiddled with the door and locked it before putting it out of order sign on the inside glass window. He sat down on the bench and helped position your zonked out body to kneel in front of him. Slowly, almost lazily, he pulled out his heavy cock and thick daddy bear balls from inside his jockstrap and gym shorts. The cock was about five inches long, with a fat mushroom head and covered in dark purple veins. You had never seen such a hairy cock, and it was covered with curly dark fur halfway up the shaft. You opened your mouth, expecting to begin servicing him, but he shook his head. Instead, he just pressed your face into his sweaty nutsack. You quivering with anticipation, eager to begin pleasuring him, but instead he began massaging your shoulders and you simply begin to breathe in and out.

You took in lungful after lungful of that wonderful smell of his, including his musk, the dribble of precum that was slowly sliding down his thick uncut dick, and the faintest aroma of dried piss. He began growling approvingly as he felt your body start to swell under his massaging fingers. Your gut begin poking out a bit, but muscle began blossoming underneath. Hair begin spreading all over your body, and you felt your arms and legs get thicker with muscle. You felt your jaw and upper lip begin to bristle, and a thick beard grew in. Your hair itched, and it retracted into your skull, leaving the top and side of your head buzzed short. You moaned a little bit as your ass filled out, becoming the perfect cub for this daddy bear. Your pits felt prickly for a moment, and shortly after the sensation faded you had a veritable forest of dense, matted, sweaty hair under your arms. You felt it start to get nice and wet, and knew you would be emitting a strong musk of your own. Not as strong as the sexy bear you knelt before, but a potent musk none the less.

You kept getting thicker and thicker, but after a few minutes he pushed you away. Your faculties had come back to you a little bit and you smiled. You flexed for him, showing off your new beefy body, and the bear nodded approvingly. Then you stripped out of your gym clothes, got on hands and knees, and shoved your hairy, sweaty ass up in the air before him. He wasted no time in spitting on your hole and shoving his leaking cock into you. He was dribbling so much precum that it acted as lube, and he buried his short, musky cock in you to the root on his first try. He rutted hard and fast, saying nothing, but was growling and panting and grunting as his massive balls slapped against your fuzzy rump.

It didn’t take him long before he grabbed your hips and buried himself as deep as he would go, letting out a deep and reverberating growl that shook the floorboards. His fat nutsack pulled up, and he unloaded what felt like a quarter cup of bear jizz into you, pumping his load deep in your hole. The pleasure of his orgasm caused you to cum again, and your seed splattered all of the wooden floor of the sauna. He stood up, panting, and smiled at him. He raised his pit, and let you lick it clean. You growled at each other once more before getting dressed and exiting the sauna, tossing the out-of-order sign away. You got dressed, still looking disheveled, but feeling proud and confident, and left the gym.

You got in your car and rolled the windows up and turned the A.C. off. Before long, the car filled with your manly smell, exacerbated by the fact that your dick was hard and leaking already. You kept pawing at it through your shorts, sniffing your pits at stop signs, and working yourself into a horny craze on your ten minute drive home. As you parked, you grabbed your far heftier sack and squeezed, and soon were shooting for the third time in an hour, right into your briefs once again. You smiled as you panted in the humid, musky car as your wet spot grew even more. You couldn't wait to get back to the gym tomorrow and teach more men the pleasures of hot, sweaty bear sex.

He was three times my size, my tight little twink body was nothing compared to his. He has trained for years to reach this, his genes perfect for size gaining, pushing it to the limits with steroids.

I guess he could smell my willing hole from miles away, when I entered the room he watched my every move.

He had me when he said hello, and I went home with him.

It didn’t take long before I had no clothes on, sitting in position my back arched, my ass pushed back. It was when his hands held my hips i found out the real size difference. His hands almost wrapped around my hips.

When a big blunt object was at my entrance I knew I might not survive. A sharp stinging pain went through me as he went in me. I felt him going deeper my body rejected pushing against him, but my mind wanted him all the way in. It must have felt great for him, my insides tightening around his meat.

I moaned as he started with thrusting, going deeper with every thrust. He pulled all the out and I heard him walk away, getting something and got back to me. Ordering me to open my mouth, he placed a big ball gag in my mouth and tightened firm. This way the neighbors won’t hear you enjoying it so much, with that he shoved his massive cock back where he was and continued.

After a while he said my hole feels too good, once more a walked away to retrieve something. He ordered me to put my hands on my back, where he placed them underneath his lifting belt. The belt is tight around my body, my hands stuck on my back. I was unable to make a sound and move.

He carried me upstairs, a big room with a huge bed. When he threw me on it, I felt how soft and nice the mattress is.

He then got on top me, pushed him inside me and started banging me hard. Telling me this is much better. Unable to make a sound, move or fight o took his unrelenting pounding like a good boy. When I took a look back I saw his phone filming us. He told me I’m gonna be used by his buddies later and I will love it.

With that he grabbed my body with both hands and it didn’t take long until he pumped me full with his load.

Leaving the room, and me used. His load dripping from my gaping hole, tired I fell asleep.

I woke up from the doorbell, and listened to the conversation. I heard one asking how mine hole felt, to the other replied amazing, never had better. He is upstairs ready for you.

Heavy steps coming towards me, clothes falling on the ground, then warm flesh against my hole, his voice yelling dude your load still dripping, well don’t worry it’s good lube.

He slid right in me, my whole body spasms as he hit my prostate just perfectly. His body slammed against me, I could feel his body hair, sweat dripping on me, he groaned my hole is feeling like heaven and asked if I’m ready for the others. I got scared when he said others, which others are there more. My thoughts of fear drifted my mind away from getting filled by this studs massive load, and leaving the room right away.

Finally I then heard a new yet somewhat familiar voice. I hope they prepared you got little f@gg0t I’m not holding back now my girl is keeping her legs closed.

I knew who it was… and I was conflicted if I should be afraid or turned on.

One of the hottest guys in the gym…

Without a warning he was on top of me, already plowing my hole. He used me hard, relentless, and worst of all it was hurting me yet also pleasing me.

I started to cry a little but he didn’t notice or didn’t care. At one point my whole body just turned off as I lost consciousness of this rape.

I opened my eyes when someone sat next to me, asking if I’m okay.

He asked if I was sure, cause I have been taking c0ck for hours unconscious. I looked him in the eyes and nodded.

He took off my ball gag and told me that I don’t need that. I softly said thank you, then I gave him a kiss. The kiss turned gained a bit of tongue then a lot.

Instinctively I went back on my belly presenting my butt and open hole ready to be fucked. He said I don’t have to, but I interrupted him. I said I wanted it, I guess something snapped in me and my only purpose is being a cum dump.

He warned me he is big, probably the biggest I ever had. I begged for it. Then he gentle entered me and I could feel every inch on his meat. It’s thick? I can feel his veins moving in me. I was sure this is the biggest and thickest c0ck I ever had inside me. I could feel my hole stretch to accommodate his massive member, my groans and moans echoed in the room.

His heavy body on top, slamming himself against me, rearranging my guts as it feels like. My hands on his own, interlocking as he kept his tempo.

He flipped me over, my legs wrapped around him as he kept going. We kissed as his thick beard brushed against my face, his sweat dripping on. Our eyes locked, I read pure blissful experience in them. I nice grin on his face.

He now stood on the side of the bed, holding my legs up on one side of his shoulder. When I looked down at my own body, I could clearly see his cock through my own body, a mount of flesh moving inside me up and down. I could feel it when I placed my hand on my belly.

Unfortunately it didn’t last long, he roared loudly like a beast. I could feel him blasting load after load in me, my hand slowly rising up as my whole guts bloated up with his warm seed.

He pushed his entire shaft down my throat to lick it clean and left. I got thrown out of the house not 5 minutes later.

The whole town discovered what had happened, I got branded as the towns f toy. I didn’t care, the only thing on my mind was my next fix of warm seed inside my guts.

You were back at your old highschool after getting stuck dropping off your boyfriend's little brother off for baseball practice after your bf got called into work. You didn't even get why they had practice; he'd been telling you on the way there that some kid got hurt last game and they were down a player. You really didn't want to be there. Aside from how boring it was to sit through, the coach had been your gym teacher around six years ago in high school, and he'd always been on your ass. He was constantly bitching about you not trying hard enough in gym, making snide comments about how you needed to be more of a man, watching you all the time for any chance to humiliate or criticize you. You didn't give a fuck what his dumb, meathead ass thought. So you sat off to the side, away from the field, on your phone till it was over, counting the minutes down. You were so distracted on your phone that you didn't even notice him walking up to you until he slipped a baseball cap on your head.

"Wha-"you started to say, lifting a hand to pull it off, but you froze as your head suddenly got foggy... so... foggy... arm is... heavy. You felt... good... putting your arm down... felt... goood... hat felt.... good....

You noticed your coach in front of you... coac... no... not coach... a man... a man you should listen to. A pretty good looking man you should listen to. He gave you this hat and... it felt so... so... good....

He held out his big, strong, hairy hand. He wanted you to hold it. You didn't know how you knew that; the thought just popped into your head suddenly as the hat got a little tighter. You wanted to hold it, so you did. You should listen to him. He knows best. You like the feeling of him leading you, of letting him take charge. Oh, the locker room. The room where he'd ridiculed you so often when you were younge- no.... no he hadn't done that. No. He didn't want to ridicule you. He wanted to make you better, you realized, as the hat got a little tighter. You had just been too immature to understand then. You felt a surge of admiration for him, for his big, hulking frame as he brought you into his small office off the locker room. You realized how much you'd missed him all these years.... and his hands were so big, warm, rough, and manly, closed around your soft, smooth skin. You couldn't stop staring at his thick, muscular back, bulging out from under his shirt stretched tight across it.

He turned to you after he closed the door.

"C'mere, son," Son. That's what he'd always called you when he was being an asshole helping you improve. You hated loved when he called you that. It always made you feel weird and put down warm and fuzzy. He reached out to touch you. You wanted to pull back but- no- no you didn't. You wanted to back away let him touch you. He felt your arms and gripped your chest, sizing you up. You'd put on some muscle since high school- not a lot, just leaned out a little- mostly to get guys. As much as you hated to admit it, you thought of him time to time while you'd worked out, even years after you graduated, like a voice in the back of your head. You'd hated that he'd been right, but working out did feel pretty good. When you needed an extra push, you'd think back to him and times he'd humiliated pushed you to be better to give yourself motivation. "Who's a weak lil pansy now," you'd think, gritting your teeth and pumping out a few more reps. But you'd pushed those thoughts of him out normally, telling yourself you'd been doing it for you.

He nodded, smiling, pushing the hat a little further down on your head. "That's good, son." You should've thought it was weird that he'd responded to something you'd only thought, but you were too dazed to notice. "I'm glad my words stuck with you all these years. You've never really been free of me, have you? I was always in your head, son."

"I've... never been... free of you..." you said slowly. It was true. He'd always been on your mind, in your subconscious, pushing you to work out.

"Because you didn't want to be, did you, son? Deep down, there was something you wanted all along, wasn't there?"

You stared up at him. The answer slowly drifted into your head as you felt the cap pull down a little more. You'd wanted to make him proud. That was the real reason you'd been lifting, whether you knew it or not. He'd still been ordering you around.... all these years.... even without being there...

"No boy. I wasn't ordering you around. I always wanted you to be the best you could be. And look at you now, son. On the road to beefing up & looking great," he sat, patting your back with his big hand.

You nodded slowly, smiling bigger and bigger. He'd finally complimented you. His approval didn't matter to you felt so good. You didn't need wanted more of it, you realized, as the hat tightened another notch, rewiring more and more of you. You didn't need!!!! lived for his approval. You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself make him happy, to do what you wanted was right in his eyes. To make him proud.

"That's right, son. that's how you should be thinking. See, you're glad I stayed on you. It shaped who you are today. You always wanted to fight me, and you feel so ashamed of that now, don't you son?"

"Yes," you admitted as a deep sense of shame and affection for him coursed through you. "You were right all along. It was all for my own good. As soon as I got bigger, I got a boyfriend... I was... I was just too dumb and proud to see it back then."

"I know, boy. But you listened to me in time. That's what's important, son. I didn't humiliate you because I liked it. I humiliated you because I wanted to make you better. You probably always thought it was cuz you were gay, didn't you? But that wasn't it. It was cuz you were a beta. I could tell your type, son. Lots of raw, masculine power, but no strong man to guide you. It all made sense when your mother mentioned at a conference that you'd never known your Father. I tried to be that... but you pushed me away."

"I know.... I'm sorry," you said, embracing him again. "I think that's... why I pushed you away. But I'm glad you stayed on me. Disciplined me. Made me ashamed to be the weakling I was. Its made me better."

"That's what I'm here for, son," he said. "I'm here now. You don't have to fight me anymore." His big hand went to the back of your head this time, squishing your head between it and his bulging chest. He smelled like outside after being out for practice for so long- a warm, musky, masculine smell that made you feel safe. You closed your eyes, nuzzling into it, feeling his body heat as more good memories between the two of you overwrote the bad, as every memory of humiliation was overwritten with one of warm encouragement.

You didn't want to fight him, not at all. In fact, you wanted... him. In spite of the hat linking your mind to his, letting him read and rewrite your thoughts, part of you- your oldest, deepest, hatred for him, flared up in you. But he just smiled down. He could feel it too, being able to read your thoughts, and it was what he'd been waiting for. The moment the feeling of hatred arose, he snatched hold of it inside you, twisting and inverting it, replacing it all with love.

You shook as your mind broke and fractured, as your thoughts were wiped clean away and rewritten with new ones, shifting others around to fill in the gaps. You felt ...delirious.... you needed something warm... something... strong.... something... stable... a rock to hold onto and he... this man... he was all of those things. You nuzzled against him harder and harder, feeling a patch of his chest hair at the gap in the top of his polo. No matter how close you pulled him, it didn't feel close enough. Before you knew what you were doing, you were peeling his shirt off, nuzzling against his warm... hard.... hairy... body... Your mind was still breaking. You felt empty and confused, but his big, fuzzy chest was like an anchor you clung to.

"Now we're talking, son. It's ok. I know it's hard," he said, kissing your forehead. "But I'm here," he said, wrapping his burly arms around you and locking you against his chest. "How are you feeling, son?"

"I... need.... I need... you...," you said, holding him tight.

"You do," he said with a nod, and you felt how true it was instantly. "You need a man."

"I need.... a man."

"You need a firm hand to guide you, son."

"Yes... guide...me...."

"Yes. Yes, son", he said. "I get it now. I've been scanning your thoughts, memories, secrets and desires this whole time, and it's all clear. You hated not having a Father. You coped by never wanting to feel like you had to prove yourself to a man, or be a man like him. That you were better off without one, that you never wanted to be one. Because you knew deep down, that was all you ever wanted. That scared you, so you fought me. Because I was what you were missing: someone to discipline you. To toughen you up. Someone who's approval you need to work for. But you just didn't know better, son," he said, grabbing the back of your head and placing your mouth on his pec. You started sucking instinctively. "You didn't know how good it can feel to get that approval once you work for it," he said, gripping your lean arms. "I'm so proud of you, son."

A wave of heat flashed over you as you clung to him and sucked him harder, slowly regressing as more new thoughts settled in your mind. You were just a lost, scared kid. You didn't know anything about life... hadn't had anyone to help you... but he.... he- even the thought of him made all the bad feelings melt away- he could show you. Help you. Protect you. You wanted to keep making him proud. You wanted to be just like him. He was right... this was what you'd always needed... a ... you struggled to admit it.

"Father," he finished the thought for you. You just stared up at him, nodding vacantly.

"Fa....ther...." you repeated, feeling a new wave of affection for him rushing over you. You pressed your face into his furry chest. It felt so... warm... so... safe... but no you didn't know your Dad... but... of course you did. He was... right here... wasn't he?

"That's right, son. You'll be better off this way. This is what it feels like to be hugged by your Dad. You've never known that feeling, have you?"

"No," you admitted, hugging him tighter, latching onto his strong body. "No. But I need it. I've always needed it."

"Then you're my Son now," he said, kissing your forehead, and suddenly, you were. You felt a strange mixture of love tinged with fear and respect, of resentment but a desire to prove yourself to the man who created you.

"Yes. Yes Daddy," you said. You finally had one. You kissed all over his chest, lost in the feeling. "I want to be your son. I just want to make you proud."

"Empty yourself of anything but that feeling, boy. Then take Dad's pants off."

You obeyed, pulling them down. All he had on was a jockstrap. He slid a chair around, groaning as he slowly lowered his hulking body onto it.

"You sure you want this, boy?"

"It's all I ever wanted, sir," you mumbled, nuzzling against his warm bulge, resting your hand on his big hairy thighs, feeling all the muscle rippling underneath. It was so.... big.... not just long... but just huge. Massive. It had girth. Both your hands on it together barley overlapped. "It's so ... big ....".

"Daddy's dick's always are, son."

"Thank you for never giving up on me."

"That's what Dad's are for, son," he said, kissing you on the forehead. "Now make Daddy proud."

You felt fuzzy, slowly melted down his chest, and before you knew it, his huge dick was in your face. It looked incredible, felt so soft and silky in your mouth as your tongue slid over it. It slowly got harder and harder, filling more and more of your mouth... and all you wanted was more. You had never felt this feeling, never wanted to feel it, tried to avoid it for so long... but serving a man like this was... all you ever wanted to do. It was addicting. You knew you'd get addicted to it.

"Ahhhh," he sighed, which just urged you on. "See what you were missing all these years, boy?" he said, thrusting his dick in your mouth as you hungrily gulped it down.

"Don't you wish you could just go back, son? Do it all over again, me and you?"

No Yes- you'd hated loved highschool. You never wanted to spend more time with him. You wanted to move past all that do it all again,, be trapped lucky enough to be in a building with him all day. No Yes. No! Yes. If you could just get this damn hat off-

He laughed, slapping the hat off your head. It landed across the room... and to your distress, you kept going. And wanted to keep going. Sucking his cock still felt amazing, still tasted delicious, still felt like the most fulfilling thing you'd ever done. Your eyes were wide and shocked. You thought he'd been controlling you, but you still wanted to please him, to serve him, to be his son.

He laughed, watching the realizations wash over you. "The hat was just to get you 'over the hump', per se. The rest has all been you, son. Now, say it," he said in a deep, authoritative tone.

Your mind froze. Daddy had given you an order. You always listened to your Father.

"I wish I could go back and do it all again, with you as my Father, sir"

"Nope. Do better. You're not good enough for Daddy, son," he said with a smile, watching the effect the words had on you, watching you go into a frenzy to please him.

"I'm sorry Daddy," you said, kissing, licking rubbing your face into his dick, his cock, his balls. You didn't want to disappoint him. It felt awful- it consumed you- you needed to rid yourself of it.

"That right there, son, is the feeling that's going to push you to be great. Just imagine if it had been ingrained in you from a younger age. Then you'd turn out right. Then you'd be fixed."

"Yes. Yes. Fucking fix me. Dad. I'm so weak. So broken. I need you. I need to do it all again, with you. I need to be raised right, raised with a man in my life to discipline me. To keep me in line."

His breaths got quicker and quicker, his strokes harder. "Yes, you do son. That's why you always feel this way. That's why you're so unhappy. But we're going to fix that, now. Just you and your old man, right?"

"Yes. Please, please, take me back Dad. Fix me. Break me and rebuild me, Dad."

"Fuuuuck yeah," he bellowed. Six hot pumps of cum shot down your throat, you went back in age... 23... your thin, barely visible body hair thinned a little... 22... your patchy facial hair receded... 21... 20..... you lost an inch or two, regressing, sliding through younger versions of yourself.

"You can never fight me, Son. You always wanted this. Now you can grow up with a Dad. Don't fight it. Just let it happen."

"Yes..... yes...." 19.... your body hair thinned even more....

"Give it all to me now son. Let all those memories go. I'm your Dad now. Always have been. We're going to do it all again, just me and you baby boy.''

And finally.... 18. You were back to yourself at the beginning of senior year.

But then one final pump of cum hit your throat and you yelled out. You'd finished getting younger, but now your body was stretching and growing longer, leaner, as you got bigger- not older, just bigger, till you were an unrecognizably athletic and built version of your 18 year old self.

"That's it boy. You're almost there. You're almost the son I always wanted you to be," he said, petting and comforting you. "And once this year ends, I'll change you into a new 18 year old, and we'll do it again. You never get to be a man. You're going to be Daddy's 18 year old boy.... forever."

'Yes.... yes...."

Your ass puffed out, balls dropped lower, cock got bigger. Your facial hair regrew, full and even, as a nice coating of hair covered your chest. Your tiny frame expanded, becoming bigger and bulkier. Tight school baseball pants appeared on you, gripping your tight ass snugly and finally, it all stopped.

"There we go," your Dad said, satisfied as he lifted you to stand up. Then he snapped in your left ear. You blinked a few times as the last part of you- your memories- rearranged themselves to his liking, then everything slid back into focus. Right. You were just getting trained after your first practice with your new team.

"That was a great practice, Dad. I can't wait to join in tomorrow"

"Wasn't it, son? I'm so glad we moved into the district I coach at."

"Me too. There's nothing better than having you as my Coach, Dad."

"I always wanted to coach you, boy. It's gonna be your first of many great senior years of higschool."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind son. Let's get home," he said, walking out of the locker room.

The next day you stepped onto the field for the first time, quickly becoming the team's star player. It was like your body had been designed for baseball, they'd said. It figured you were the coach's son, but you were pretty sure it was your lucky baseball cap.

Your Dad pushed you hard. He always make you work harder, run further, and practice more, but it was all worth it for the savage rush you got you smoked every guy on the team in speed, strength, and agility; worth it when you heard your Dad behind you, cheering you on as you reminded these bitches who was in charge. That's why you took every order he gave you with a smile. You were his machine. You'd learned a long, long time ago that whatever he did to you was for your own good, that he always knew better. That was why you loved him- he'd made you into this, after all.

And when the year ended, you did it all over again like he said. He'd turn you into a new 18 year old beast, wipe your mind of the previous year, and you'd start as a new student again and again and again. Getting bigger and bigger each time, better and better each year. You were frozen in time as his boy, till he decided you were ready for the next step one day. He aged you up a couple years and sent you to tryouts for the MLB. You made the team on your first try.

About a year later when your team won the World Series, a reporter threw a mic in your face. "Great play out there! What do you want to say to everyone watching."

You smiled at the camera. "I owe it all to my Dad."

Once the corruption reaches the flexing and admiring phase there is no going back. The victim will quickly go from innocently admiring their new growth to eagerly flexing, smirking and getting turned on by their own reflection as they start to quickly pack on muscle and become cockier, hornier, all around dumber, and the new obnoxious muscle boy persona takes over and the corruption is complete.

Feel these big guns boy, I know you like my big strong body.

I’ll leave you gaping, filled up and broken when I’m done with you.

You will thank me for being owned by me.

young as fuck, but look at that forearm. He could grip your hands and crush every bone with that powerful fucking forearm. He’d just look at you with a indifferent expression while you struggle in agony, unable to get away from his power.

You knelt on the hard, hot cement, as instructed by the man who had turned your life upside-down. As he pulled the back of you husbands swimsuit down, revealing that ass you had loved so impossibly, your blood boiled - along with your skin, as your Bull had opted to have you lathered in olive oil in lieu of sunscreen for a day spent outside. You knelt naked, save only for the tiny chasity device Bull had stuffed you into months ago as you attempted to keep balancing the two trays you held in each hand, balancing their drinks, the Bluetooth speaker and a framed photo of your wedding day Bull thought would be an especially nice touch. You felt your skin start to burn as the first tears left your eyes and rolled down your humiliated cheeks.

Getting to know your boyfriend has been such a rush. He’s just so open, articulate and willing to tell all. It enables us to grow deeper so quickly. The more information I have, the more each situation or experience registers for me. Like here…

I would always have loved this moment. Your boys full nuts rubbing against my morning wood. His pert butt peaking out of his threadbare undies, begging me for attention. Who wouldn’t love this. But that’s not what’s driving me crazy. Whats driving me crazy is what he’s doing and what I know what he’s doing says about how he feels about you. About me.

He’s worshipping my feet. Sucking my toes. Licking from heel to toe, working my arches. I didn’t ask him to. He’s going wild on them. I’d assume he has a crazy foot fetish if I didn’t know better. But I do know better.

He told me that your favorite thing in the world is having your feet worshipped. He told me how it’s your biggest fantasy. Your most effective trigger. The thing that gets you off the most, provides the most pleasure; biggest and best orgasm.

He also told me that he has never worshipped your feet. Not once in two and a half years. That he couldn’t. That he would never. He just doesn’t see you like that. As someone worth submitting to. As someone worthy of worship. So he denies you, even tho you beg for it. And yet, here he is, slurping away on mine without my even having to ask.

Yeah… getting to know him has been great.