My Story - Tumblr Posts

You'd heard of 'The Hoe Zone', as it came to be known, from some of your friends who had already undergone the change. A few years back, men reported that they would randomly find themselves in a place that twisted and changed them into a sluttier, gay version of themselves before spitting them back out into the real world. Every guy said it was different, some reported rooms of leather and chains or nightclubs full of men. It only took a few weeks before huge portions of the male population was transformed into walking wet dreams.

You were gay before it all started, so you were never expecting to stumble inside on your way out of class one day. The pink room stretched on as far as you could see, with only a wooden stool with a baseball cap, slightly yellowed jockstrap, and athletic socks placed on it in sight. Picking the jockstrap up, you were overcome with the scent of sweat and musk. It felt like you had reached into some guy's laundry hamper just after a workout.

Gritting your teeth, you stripped out of your clothes and abandoned them on the pink floor. You didn't notice they completely disappeared as you slid the socks on. You suddenly felt a little like running a marathon as you slid the jockstrap up your legs. It didn't quite fit at first, you thought, but only for a few seconds.

The second you put the cap on, sweaty muscles bloomed all over your body. You moaned in pleasure and grabbed onto the stool to keep steady while your body grew. You could hear whispering in your head about how great men were, especially daddies and bears. You involuntarily reached back and snapped the waistband of the jockstrap, getting hard at the little shock of pain. Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes.

When you opened them next, you found yourself back in the hallway at college, clad in only a baseball cap, jockstrap, and socks. You turned to head back into the classroom, suddenly wondering if your professor was single...

You’d spent weeks and weeks lacing your dad’s workout tracks with subliminal messages. You’d been softening his psyche up so when you asked him about the ritual to merge your bodies together, he’d consent to it and agree to give you full control. When you walked into his bedroom to see him totally zoned out, wearing nothing but a loose fitting tanktop, you knew he was ready.

You slathered his body in oil, working it into his pert cheeks and hairy chest, enjoying all of what was about to be yours. You took off your clothes and grinded your hard dick between his ass cheeks and chanted the spell. Each time you finished, you could feel yourself slide just a little bit further in. All the while, your dad moaned and whispered about how he wanted you to be inside of him, taking the controls and possessing him. 

Eventually, you noticed your entire lower body had been sucked inside of your dad’s colossal thighs and fat ass. You flexed, noticing your combined dick had grown several inches in length and girth. Feeling your new member stiffen up, you began chanting faster, skipping syllables, and rushing yourself to climb inside. You forced your hands inside his arms, slotting them inside like a glove, and then shoved your head into the back of his. 

Like a movie, all of his memories played back across your own, rewriting your own perspective of your life to match his own. When you opened your eyes next, you could barely remember what had even happened. You had laid down to listen to some music after your workout and poof. Your muscles were sorer than you figured they’d be after such a light workout, but you could see why. Your hairy, oiled-up muscles were bulging out more than they ever had before.

The thought that you’d randomly grown more burly and beefy was making you kind of hot. How had you never noticed how sexual your own body was? You thought it might be a good idea to ask your son if he thought your body was good... assuming you’d be able to find him, that is.

Mikey and his bro had travelled off the beaten path and to a secret beach that was roped off with bright red tape. They both thought 'fuck that' as they slipped underneath it and onto a small pavilion. Whatever reason it was closed, the duo didn't care.

Some of his frat bros had mentioned it was a sweet spot for swimming and messing around 'cause no one went in. That was fully Mikey's plan. Before he'd even pulled his shorts down, Jack was already pushing him flat on his back on one of the benches.

"Heya, Mikey-Mike," he teased, sliding one of his muscular hands up his friend's torso. The two were mostly fuckbuddies, but lately Mikey had been thinking about making it official. Lots of his frat bros secretly loved bro-jobs anyway, so it wouldn't be too scandalous if word got out.

Mikey smirked and pulled his shirt up, exposing his flat stomach and pierced right nipple. Anyone who knew him knew he loved getting fucked in the ass more than three meals a day. Jack was the only one he'd ever met who could keep up with his overzealous libido. He thought it was weird, but maybe the quickest way to his heart, was through his hole.

Tweaking his nipple a bit, Jack climbed off his bro and started stripping down to his trunks. They were dark red with a stripe on the side and the outline of his chubby dick was clearly visible next to Mikey's face. He was about to reach over and whip his dick out when Jack stopped him.

"Let's swim a little first, y'know? We have all the time in the world to fuck." Jack jabbed his thumb toward where the yellowy-green water beat on the shore.

Mikey frowned a bit, but agreed. "Fine, fine, I need to loosen up before we get going anyway," he teased. Taking his clothes off, Mikey revealed his lime green speedo. He had plenty of straight-passing swimsuits, but he always felt comfortable being himself with Jack, so he indulged it. It helped that Jack looked a little bashful after the reveal.

Jack put his cap and sunglasses on and then pulled Mikey out into the water. The warm summer waves lapped at their feet as they stepped in. Mikey wanted to get the leg up on Jack, either sexually or with a prank. Stepping back behind him, Mikey shoved Jack forward into the water, watching him faceplant and slip beneath the waves.

Mikey instantly busted out laughing, waiting for Jack to surface. After a few seconds, his laughter died down. After about thirty seconds, the water began bubbling and Mikey tried to pull him up in a panic.

The arm that Mikey latched onto was a little bigger than he expected, covered in hair, and attached to a behemoth. The giant man pushed himself back onto his feet, to the surprise of Mikey.

"J-Jack?" Mikey asked tentatively. Something was telling him that this wasn't right but hadn't Jacob always been a little older, more... bear-ish?

"Michael, what the hell was that?" He shouted, the deep bass of his voice wrapping around Mikey's thoughts like a blanket. The drops of water running across Jacob's fat tits nearly made him faint as all the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick.

"Sorry, bro, I mean-" he corrected himself- "Jacob." He distinctly recalled Jacob asking him to call him by his full name when they were together, but hadn't they always been Mikey and Jacky? He stepped back out of the water. "My head hurts a little."

Two different sets of memories were arguing for a place in his head. He knew five minutes ago that they were a burgeoning young gay couple in college together. His thoughts swirled about meeting Jack- Jacob- as a friend of his father's and immediately falling into bed with him. His dad had objected at first, but knowing the financial stability the older man would give him, he quickly gave his blessing. He doubted their relationship would last anyway.

Mikey puttered back to the pavilion and sat on the bench, unsure how to deal with the conflicting memories. Jacob, hot on his heels, leaned down in front of him.

"Michael, are you okay? Tell daddy what's wrong," Jacob teased. Mikey's cock jumped in his speedo and his eyes shot open. The second his eyes met Jacob's, his mind went silent. Who cared if he remembered things a little differently? This was the guy he was into, had been into, for a long time.

"N-nothing, I think I had a head rush," he lied. Taking the opportunity, though, he pulled Jacob into a deep kiss and rested his hands on his thick pecs.

"You always did love my chest," Jacob laughed into Mikey's mouth. "Well worth the time in the gym for my boy."

Mikey moaned a little at being called boy. Jacob was his daddy, after all. Why wouldn't he be the boy?

Sitting on the bench next to Mikey, Jacob released the python in his swimsuit. Mikey wasted no time kissing across his chest, taking a hit of musk from his daddy's pits, and then swallowing his cock in one gulp. He was pretty proud of how much his daddy had guided his technique while lapping at his balls.

Jacob grunted as Mikey's velvet lips glided across his hot cockflesh. Nothing got him going quite like a blowjob from his boy. Mikey squeezed his throat around Jacob's fuckstick, doing his damndest to milk a fat load out of his daddy. Just thinking about Jacob being his daddy made his dick steel-hard.

When his daddy finally stuffed his cheeks with his hot load, Mikey also filled his speedo with jizz. He held Jacob's dick in his mouth until he needed to breathe and then pulled off with a wet 'pop.'

"Good for daddy," Jacob breathed heavily.

Mikey's head felt heavy again, but he smiled and agreed. "Good for daddy."

Commission for @the-blue-gentleman

Clay glanced down out the window of his apartment to see the object of his ire lounging by the pool. Pretty Petey was the slim, muscle-y type, his perky cheeks filling out his swim trunks as he idly flipped through a textbook. Clay was roughing some honor society nerd up on campus yesterday when Mr. Pert and Perfect came up between them. He was almost about to knock Petey on his ass when campus security rolled up and he had to bounce.

Since then, Clay had been fantasizing about ways to put Petey in his place. Dunking his head in a toilet was just too high school freshman and he was a college freshman, so he knew he needed to up the ante. He racked his brain for a solution, but it wasn't like he got into college with his grades. He'd been having nerds do his schoolwork for years, even in college. The dweeb from the day before was getting the shakedown over some lit paper or whatever that Clay needed done. Hopefully, the deadline hadn't passed…

Pulling the drapes closed, Clay leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the back of his head. It would be so much easier if he could just BE Petey and get purposefully caught doing all kinds of bad stuff. Stealing, plagiarizing, vandalism, sucking as much fat dick as he could... Clay wasn't gay, but it wouldn't even be his lips, or ass, taking hot load after load.

Clay got momentarily distracted, considering himself in all manner of positions. Glancing between his hairy pits, Clay realized maybe he just wanted some pit worship, definitely nothing gay about that.

Wait! Maybe that was the solution! Not the stuff about taking loads or whatever, but the part about being Petey! If only there was some way to possess him, but, even with as much of a moron as he knew he was, it wasn't like that stuff was real. Still, Clay bit his lip as he massaged his bulge with one hand and grabbed his phone with the other. Some of the results were surprisingly promising, but a lot of 'em were too much reading. Full moon, chanting, blood rituals, blah, blah, Clay thought.

Finally, he found one that was straightforward. He just needed to get his cum on the guy, say a dumb rhyme, and then look him in the eyes. On the first front, Clay was practically there.

He’d gone from rubbing his bulge to full-on fisting his bare dick about three minutes into research. Of course, it was like he must’ve known on some level what he’d need.

Peeking out the window at Petey’s thin, muscular back, Clay grunted and shot a generous wad of cum into his hand.

Scanning back over the dumb rhyme, he slipped his phone into his pocket, made sure not to spill his load, and then hustled, barefoot, out of his apartment. Clay took the stairs two at a time, his still-hard dick slapping against his thigh as he went down. He smirked darkly as he rounded the corner. Petey had set the book aside and was basking in the sunlight when Clay mounted him, his thick thighs pinning Petey down into the lounge chair.

“Dude, what in the hell are you doing?” Petey protested, struggling to toss Clay off his back.

“Nothing you’re gonna like, pretty boy,” he sneered. Clay reached his hand up high and then brought it down like a bullet, wetly slapping his jizz-filled palm into the middle of Petey’s back. The viscous liquid exploded across Petey’s fair skin. He yelped as his back muscles tensed up, Clay’s blow knocking the wind out of him.

Leaning forward, Clay got close to Petey’s ear and whispered: “what’s yours is mine, with seed to bind, open your eyes, and let me inside.” Reaching around the side of his head, Clay whipped Petey’s face around until his sky-blue eyes met his own brown ones. At once, Petey’s eyes emptied and Clay’s body seized. Clay felt like he was getting sucked into Petey’s body. Everywhere they touched, Clay melted into him until all that was left to indicate Clay was even there was a pair of black cargo shorts and some red boxer-briefs.

When Clay opened his eyes next, he felt lighter and closer to the ground. The little twerp was nowhere to be seen, but he gasped in a voice higher than his own when he sat up. His thick, muscled body had been replaced with long, thin limbs. The only thing he recognized was a generous treasure trail and forest of hair exploding from under his arms.

Immediately, his dick hardened in his trunks. In spite of himself, he was eager to see what the pretty boy was packing. Clay pulled his waistband up and was surprised to see a dick longer, but thinner, than his own spring up and slap him in the bottom of his thin abs. He wasted no time wrapping his hand around it and pumping it, lifting his arm up to take a whiff of Petey’s scent. Clay had been so focused on revenge for that nerd that he hadn’t realized what a real opportunity he’d been given.

Why even pretend to not want to get as many dicks inside of him as possible? He was Pretty Petey now and he had no doubts that men wouldn’t line up to baptize him in cum if he let them. A fleeting part of him was concerned about how he was going to get back to his own body, but that was a problem he could deal with later. Jerking off and running his other hand through his body hair was his number-one priority.

The sun beating down on his back and his vigorous masturbation were beginning to make him sweat and all the scents of Petey’s body bloomed. His pecs and abs shimmered in the light as the beads slipped and slid down his skin. Already on edge, Clay took a huge hit of Petey’s pits and fired several ropes of cum out into the grass, not caring who in the apartments around him might see. After wiping his hands on his ex-cargo shorts, Clay fumbled around for Petey’s phone. He felt almost free as he knocked Petey’s textbook into the cum-soaked grass.

Clay chuckled sinisterly to himself, wondering which one of Petey’s friends he could get to dick him down first.

Anonymous Commission     

              A curl of indigo smoke slipped in through the crack where Greg’s bedroom window hadn’t quite been closed all the way. Greg rolled a bit in his sleep, a sweet and sinister scent washing across his face. He grumbled a bit as more and more of the smoke rolled in, shoving the window open further and further. The mist coalesced on the floor, filling in the spaces between discarded clothing and food wrappers.

               The demon smirked darkly and stepped forth from the shadows, wisps of smoke crawling from his inky blue skin. He stared down at how defenseless Greg looked while sleeping, messy locks of hair sprawled over his pillow. Greg looked so defenseless that he couldn’t help but reach down and run his fingers across the trail of hair that curved down Greg’s round belly. He reveled in the smooth feeling, thinking that this prey had some potential.

               The demon slipped back into the darkness, shifting into pure smoke for the next step of his plan. As naught more than a tendril, the demon slithered around the room towards Greg’s mouth, intent on slithering inside of the sleeping man. He knew, for the most fun, he’d need to pace himself. Going too fast would only shatter the human’s mind with indescribable pleasure.

               Snaking across Greg’s cheek, the demon measured parts of itself to be inhaled. Greg coughed at the first hit, moaned at the second, and was greedily huffing the demon inside by the third. The man was going commando underneath his dirty sweatpants, the outline of his hardening dick quickly appearing. The demon sent a tendril of mist down to encircle Greg’s dick and balls, ensuring he’d remain hard and on edge during the entire process.

               Sweat beaded on Greg’s face and chest as dark hairs began to appear. The patch of hair covering his pecs slowly crawled outwards until it coated his entire chest and shoulders in a dense carpet of moist hairs. Greg was definitely a little overweight and the demon wanted to lean into that more fully. The smoke filled his stomach, making his smooth belly bulge outwards more and more. It bloated out until the skin was pulled taut and Greg’s spare tire was a thick, heavy ball gut. Greg moaned loudly as his happy trail expanded across the tight, shiny skin of his stomach.

               The smoke filtered out more into Greg’s body. His biceps exploded into thick, ropes of muscle that poured down and beefed up his previously thin arms. From the waist up, he looked more like a competitive strongman than some wimpy cub who’d never been into a gym before. The hair at the bottom of Greg’s new gut expanded past his waistband. The gray sweatpants darkened around his groin as the sweaty hairs filled in around his dick, across his balls, and down his taint.

               The tendril acting as a cock ring began to work its way towards the head of Greg’s average erection. With all the precum pouring down the side of his leg, the demon had no trouble slipping down inside of Greg’s dick and balls. Length and girth blossomed from his body like air being pumped into a balloon until the dark head of his dick escaped the confines of sweatpants. Veins zigzagged across the shaft and bulged from his dick as Greg’s dick reached full mast. His balls didn’t escape the notice of the demon either, the volume of his balls effectively doubled, filling with twice as much cum.

               Greg inhaled the last of the demon’s smoke, filling out his legs with powerful muscle and a coating of hair. With just as much effort, his feet popped and grew from the size 9 that Greg wore into a massive size 14. The formerly ill-fitting sweatpants looked like thin exercise wear from how Greg’s new muscles stretched the fabric. For the final touches, the demon changed Greg’s hair, dropping the long, messy locks in favor of a short horseshoe. Ironically, the only part of his body that didn’t have a sweaty lock of hair covering it was the shiny, bald top of his head.

               With himself fully insinuated over Greg, the demon slithered into his dreams to begin the final changes.

              Despite being asleep, Greg could feel how restless his body was. Any other night, he’d probably have just woken up, but there was just a little something preventing him from doing so. Tired of resisting, Greg gave up decided to just ride out his dream. He could see himself in a little restaurant kitchen, baking some kind of cake he’d only seen on TV. However, tons of smoke poured out when he opened the oven. The smoke filled the kitchen and he coughed and coughed, but the hot feeling in his chest wouldn’t subside. After a long moment, the smoke seemed to dissipate, and Greg found himself somewhere completely different.

              He found himself resting, naked, in a large, fancy armchair. A fancy cigar was pressed between his lips and he enjoyed puffing on it, despite never having smoked in his life before that. On his knees in front of him, Greg could see a man that looked almost like he did going down on his huge dick with reckless abandon. From Greg’s mouth poured smoke and a husky voice that he found he wasn’t in control of, “you like daddy’s cock?” The subtle vibration of the man’s agreeance sent Greg over the edge and he shot awake at the same time his dick erupted across his gut and chest.

              The moment of euphoria was something like he’d never felt in his life. Shot after shot of cum spilled across his gut and chest, warm, wet, and gooey. What kind of adult still had wet dreams, he wondered while coming down from the high.

              He sort of noticed something was off. He’d never cum that much in his life, let alone that hard, but it wasn’t like he was getting a ton of action in the first place. Idle hands and all that. He tossed his legs off the side of his bed, hearing a terrible ripping noise.

              “The hell? I just bought these damn pants,” he muttered, annoyed. Still, he was eager to clean his mess up and stepped out in the dark hallway, hustling down to the bathroom. He didn’t seem to notice the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. When he stepped inside and flicked the light on, Greg yelled.

              “Dude, what the fuck!” His baritone voice cried out. Instead of the cute young man he always saw, a huge, hulking bear stared back at him. He slammed the door to get a better look at himself in the floor-length mirror on the other side, but his surprise didn’t wane.

               A part of Greg didn’t hate it, but he felt like someone’s sex fantasy. He’d never wanted to be bald before, but there was something… hot about it. Greg reached down to strip off his torn pants and the sight of his huge dick nearly made him cum again right there.

               “Holy shit! I could kill a guy with this fuckin’ thing!” He jokes, grabbing ahold of it. He was in awe of how fat it was, cock bulging between his fingers as he squeezed it. The thrum of pleasure through his body convinced him to keep stroking it, despite just cumming a few minutes prior. At full hardness, it visibly throbbed, hypnotizing Greg a bit into dropping his guard. That was all the demon needed. Looking up in the mirror, Greg blinked, and his eyes changed to an unsettling shade of blue that almost seemed to glow in the dim bathroom light.

               “My turn,” the demon said. Greg, relegated to the backseat in his own body, felt a bit like he was dreaming again. Part of him began thinking maybe the entire thing had all been a dream too. It was kind of a fucking hot dream, Greg thought, and he was more than happy to give the reins over and see where it took him. Seeing himself in such a powerful, dominant form was exciting, even if he wasn’t the one in control.

               The demon wrapped one of his hands around the thick tool hanging almost impossibly far off of his new body. Solid, warm flesh always felt good to touch and he spent a good few minutes enjoying the feeling of human cock in his mitt. The smoky demon only possessed men whom he felt had an untapped submissive side. He needed them to give in willingly so he could take and reshape their bodies for himself. And he’d found himself a real doozy.

               The demon lifted his arm, exposing the musky scent of his sweaty pit. Just the sight of the muscle and hair was almost enough to make the demon plaster the mirror, but he resisted. There was so much of this new body to explore that he wanted to enjoy it a little longer. For several minutes, one hand stayed on his dick while the other flexed and groped every inch of slick, hairy flesh it could reach. Corporeal forms were so sinful.

               When he finally decided it was time to cum, he flexed both his biceps in a winning bodybuilder pose and shot cum like a hose all across the surface of the mirror and floor. A nearly manic smirk on his face, the demon exhaled a ribbon of smoke. He’d found such an incredible host! Greg himself had sunk so deep into the pleasure of his body and corruption that the demon felt like he could almost change his soul into smoke too. Imagine the pleasure they could both find together…

               Before that, however, the demon wanted to have some fun with his body. He got down on his knees and licked as much cum off the mirror as he could stand, using his own juice to style his beard down. He then wiped up the rest with a dirty towel from the hamper. Returning to Greg’s bedroom, he rifled through the drawers to find anything that would fit him well enough to go out and get his dick sucked. Greg had a large, flannel button-up shirt that worked if he left the top few buttons undone and a large pair of sweatpants that he combined with no underwear again.

               “Easy access,” he joked to himself. Unlocking Greg’s phone, he quickly downloaded a few apps and did a search for the nearest bar. He adjusted his very visible bulge, slipped on a pair of too-small flipflops, and stepped out the front door of Greg’s home without even bothering to close it behind him. Maybe he’d come back to find another horny demon waiting for him, he mused.

Austin, my stepbrother had been staying with us for a few days. He was my stepmom’s son, but he was already in college by the time our parents married, so I only saw him around on holidays or breaks from school. Fancied as a renaissance man, he was shockingly muscular underneath his basic khakis and polo. He claimed he got it from his ‘superior genetics’ and that his old man had been an Olympic athlete before he died. It made me a little jealous that he was off living it up at some ivy league school while I was stuck at a dead-end fast-food job and taking night classes at the community college.

Austin was never really rude to my face, but I could always tell he was looking down his nose at me. Just cause he had a huge bulge and fat tits, and I was average didn’t mean anything.

After dinner, he retired to the guest bedroom, claiming he had a headache. It really felt more like an excuse to not have to spend more time with me and my dad than necessary. Seeing the mild disappointment on my dad’s face sent me over the edge. Just once, I wished I could get the leg up on him.

As I was going upstairs to the bathroom, I heard a loud thump come from the guest room. I knocked on the bedroom door, waited a second for a reply, and then knocked again when I didn’t hear anything.

“Hello?” I called. “You good in there, Aus?”

When he didn’t reply, I decided to go in. Worst case scenario, he had nodded off and I was going to wake him up. Best case, he, like, dropped dead or something. Not really, I rolled my eyes. That would probably tear my dad up inside, and I hated seeing him sad.

I jumped to action when I realized Austin was hanging half off of the bed in front of the old mirror his mom had thrifted the week before. She was always bringing home antiques that she wanted to restore, but they typically ended up stacked in the guest room until she got too many and gave them away. I was more surprised to see that he’d stripped down to a pair of sequined green briefs. I couldn’t help but admire how nicely they framed his supposedly superior ass and balls.

“Austin, are you okay?” I asked, not getting a reply. “Aus?”

I walked around the side of the bed and saw a vacant stare in his eyes. “Oh my god, is he…” I leaned down to take his pulse, but his body instantly deflated when I pressed into his skin.

I stepped back in horror and yelped, my stepbrother little more than a flesh-colored blob on the ground in front of me. I carefully reached down and picked him up, noting the elasticity of it. It almost felt like a latex suit with a matte surface. With nothing to hold it up, the sequined briefs fell to the floor and revealed his prize-winning sausage.

My jaw dropped. He was packing no less than seven inches of fully functional beef in his pants and it wasn’t even fully hard yet! No wonder he was such a smug jerk. I probably would’ve been a jerk too if my dick was basically a third leg.

Closing the door behind me, I quickly stripped out of my clothes, scooped up the briefs, and slid them up my legs. My hardening dick pressed into the fabric, the pale flesh visible through the stretched-out fabric. I was so captured in how warm and moist they felt that I didn’t notice the blob moving until it had already engulfed both my feet. I suppressed a scream, but terror rose in my chest as I found it had glued me to the floor.

I struggled against it as it coated more and more of my legs, slowly rising as it if were water in a sinking ship. As far as I could tell, I had two options: I could call for help and reveal myself the briefs with Austin nowhere to be found or I could just tough it out and see what happened. I couldn’t swallow what little pride I had, so I decided to tough it out.

The flesh blob felt warm as it climbed up my legs. Once it reached the briefs, it, surprisingly filtered underneath the fabric, putting my dick and balls in a vice. At the sudden burst of pleasure, I fell to my knees and moaned. This was the opening the blob needed to latch onto my hands and quickly consume up to my neck.

At that point, I considered my pride swallowed, but it was too late. When I opened my mouth to yell, the goo flooded down my throat. Fully encapsulated, I held my breath for as long as I could and then fainted.

I came to sometime later, expecting to be in the hospital or still on the floor. However, I was perfectly tucked into bed. Pulling the sheets back, I nearly yelled at what I saw. A flawless set of abs with a blonde treasure trail leading to a pair of green sequined briefs. I jumped out of bed into a room that was totally different.

Stepmom’s antique collection was nowhere to be seen. A few posters of athletes lined a wall, some dumbbells in the corner. However, the same mirror hung over the dresser. To my shock and dismay, I looked like the spitting image of Austin. I wasn’t sure what happened. Possession? Transformation?

I pinched myself and swore. “What the fuck!” I even sounded like him. “I need to get out of here or call someone. This is insane.” You rummage around the room for Austin’s phone and find it on the floor between the nightstand and the bed. With a face recognition lock, it instantly opens.                A wave of notifications from Austin’s friends hit and I found myself distracted replying to his DMs, snapping a few pics for the bros, and generally feeling a shit-eating grin on my face when the homies hit me back with a few ass shots. I couldn’t resist whipping my dick out and jerking one out right there.

Thoughts of my life as Larry felt really distant and it got harder to remember anything the harder I got. Seeing the dicks on the phone and sending my own felt right, it felt like what I was used to. I had a ton of friends, tons of one-night stands with hot jocks and dudes from college. Last time I didn’t sleep with a guy on the first date, my friends thought I was sick. Snapping a pic to a dude I’d fucked a few times, I finally busted and shot a huge load across the phone screen. Cum tributes were pretty hot, I thought.

I tossed the phone down a second later and remembered what was happening. It was like the thoughts I had weren’t my own or I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed a dirty towel off the floor, wiped my overly giant meat down, and slipped it back inside the briefs. I felt a little perverted, but I couldn’t deny how hot what just happened was. I may have gone again if my dad hadn’t knocked on the door.

A knock on the door later and dad slipped inside. Without realizing, I posed a little, as if I was showing off.

“Hey daddy,” I said breathily.

“Good morning, Austin. Mom said breakfast will be ready in a few if you want to head down.” His eyes unfocused a bit as they looked me over. “Nice to see you’ve been, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Hitting the gym, son. I wish I had a body like that when I was your age.”

I grinned. “You could have a body like this right now, daddy.” I reached down and tugged on the sides of the briefs, revealing my perfectly cut Adonis belt. Some part of me was absolutely terrified of what was about to happen, but a louder voice said it was normal. I had been trying to fuck my step-dad ever since he married my mom when I was in high school.

“You’re funny, but no,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that to your mom.”

“Boo, you’re no fun. I promise it’d be the best you ever had.” I plead. “Cross my heart.” I ran my index finger across my chest, flicking in on my nipple.

Dad turned around, but not before I spotted the bulge growing in his slacks. One of these visits from college, I was gonna get him. If these briefs weren’t the right ones, I had plenty left to try out.

“Get dressed and come down for breakfast,” he said.

As he turned to walk away, I briefly came to my senses. “W-wait, what about m—Larry!”

Dad turned back with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“Your son?” I asked, a little desperate to find out what happened to me.

“Are you feeling okay? I don’t have a son.” He replied.

Aaron had spent most of his childhood wondering why his father had suddenly stepped out on his mother one day. Even when he asked, his dad had always said he'd understand one day. He'd also said he saw a lot of me in himself, but he never understood what that meant.

As with most urban legends, Aaron never really believed the Hoe Zone was a real thing. It felt like a big conspiracy for a lot of closeted dudes to come out and get freaky or whatever with no backlash. It was only when he stepped out of his bedroom and was instantly back in his childhood living room that he knew he had been wrong.

Like many others before him, Aaron felt compelled to undress and put on the clothes the Hoe Zone presented to him. The tangerine briefs were much tighter than boxers he'd been wearing before. However, his dick and balls quickly plumped to fill the pouch. Aaron felt his package and was pleased, and aroused, to find it was perfectly flaccid despite being so much bigger.

When he slid the socks on, his feet grew a bit and didn't stop there. His thoughts suddenly teemed with images of men fucking men in every position, sometimes even many at a time. Every time a new man appeared, lean muscles sprouted and hair spread up his body, a strangled moan of pleasure slipping out of him. He collapsed onto the couch, glancing back at the mirror behind him.

He'd always somewhat resembled his father, but Aaron was suddenly his spitting image. It was as if he'd stepped back in time and entered his father's body. Although, he definitely didn't remember his dad packing so much heat between his legs and he could feel it growing.

Allegedly, the Hoe Zone spit its victims back out, but it never happened to him. Aaron quickly learned that he was now obsessed with getting as much dick as possible and hopelessly disinterested in being married to a woman. His favorite hobby was getting baptized in cum.

Aaron, now Dean, had learned enough about his father's life from before the change to assimilate into his life pretty easily. In spite of his research (when he could tear himself away from dick), The Hoe Zone seemed to be nothing more than a urban legend in those days; the object of a story from some gay writers on a fetish site. However, Aaron knew it was only a matter of time before everyone knew the truth...

You'd heard of 'The Hoe Zone', as it came to be known, from some of your friends who had already undergone the change. A few years back, men reported that they would randomly find themselves in a place that twisted and changed them into a sluttier, gay version of themselves before spitting them back out into the real world. Every guy said it was different, some reported rooms of leather and chains or nightclubs full of men. It only took a few weeks before huge portions of the male population was transformed into walking wet dreams.

You were gay before it all started, so you were never expecting to stumble inside on your way out of class one day. The pink room stretched on as far as you could see, with only a wooden stool with a baseball cap, slightly yellowed jockstrap, and athletic socks placed on it in sight. Picking the jockstrap up, you were overcome with the scent of sweat and musk. It felt like you had reached into some guy's laundry hamper just after a workout.

Gritting your teeth, you stripped out of your clothes and abandoned them on the pink floor. You didn't notice they completely disappeared as you slid the socks on. You suddenly felt a little like running a marathon as you slid the jockstrap up your legs. It didn't quite fit at first, you thought, but only for a few seconds.

The second you put the cap on, sweaty muscles bloomed all over your body. You moaned in pleasure and grabbed onto the stool to keep steady while your body grew. You could hear whispering in your head about how great men were, especially daddies and bears. You involuntarily reached back and snapped the waistband of the jockstrap, getting hard at the little shock of pain. Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes.

When you opened them next, you found yourself back in the hallway at college, clad in only a baseball cap, jockstrap, and socks. You turned to head back into the classroom, suddenly wondering if your professor was single...

On a semi-normal trip to the mall with his friends, Brayden hadn't thought too hard about some of the renovations it had undergone. New shops had always opened and closed pretty quickly there, even if they were wildly popular brand names. Iowa was where stores went to die, his friends joked.

What stuck out to him more was that it felt like some of the newer stores made the building look older, dingier. A new cigar shop near the food court made it hard to even breathe while they were eating and all the previously-white plastic seats had yellowed as a result. Plus, it seemed to attract a lot of rough-looking men to hang around. It made him a little nervous.

Brayden and his friends were decently straight laced dudes. The worst they ever did was smoke pot and maybe give each other a handjob here or there. Typical bro stuff, nothing he thought too hard about. Very no homo.

The other men were definitely older, most having fifteen to twenty years on their group. Most of them wore leather vests and had tattoos, but the string tying them together was the tobacco in their mouths. Some of them smoked pipes, some cigars, but they all slowly puffed something. The thin, gray wisps lingered briefly in the air before joining the dense cloud hovering over their table.

"Dudes, let's get the fuck out of here," Brayden huffed, coughing a bit. "I'm gonna piss first but this place sucks now." His friends looked up from their phones, seeming to be a little dazed, and muttered a half-hearted agreement.

Brayden stood from the table, gave a wide berth to a group of smoking dudes near the Chinese food stand, and hustled into the bathroom. The scent of rancid piss burned his nose hairs clean off. The place was normally pristine, but there were stagnant puddles of piss and graffiti on just about every open surface.

Brayden caught his own eye in the mirror and realized the entire 15 feet of glass was cracked. What the hell had gone on in here, he wondered. He went deeper in to notice the urinal he always used had been knocked off the wall and a simple "out of use" sign had been taped up.

"Fucking A, man!" He said to himself. He wasn't much of a stall pisser, but he didn't want to get his dick anywhere near the other grimy urinals.

He picked the stall on the end. Inside hadn't been spared from the incessant scribbles. A few phone numbers and a "Bill sucked my cock here" caught his eye. The latter had about thirty-seven tallies next to it and Brayden recoiled. The thought of some dude sucking almost forty dicks where he was standing made him shudder.

Brayden, against his better judgment, whipped his dick out and started to piss, catching something move out of the corner of his eye. When he glanced down, he could see a tongue probing through a softball-sized hole into the next stall.

"Dude, what the fuck!" He shouted, probably loud enough to be heard outside.

"What's the problem? You saw me come in right behind you," a deep, gruff voice said. Brayden didn't remember seeing anyone come in, before or after him. They had been eating out there for at least twenty minutes too.

"Nah, I'm out." He put his dick away and went to zip his pants up when a puff of smoke filtered into the stall with him.

"Come on, kid, no one'll ever find out," the man said, a certain humor to his voice. Brayden felt his dick stir just a little as the heavy sweet smell of smoke filled his nose. Whatever he was puffing was making Brayden's head spin. Contact high?

"You must be Bill then," Brayden replied, palming his dick through his underwear. He took a breath, inhaling the smoke deeper. He didn't cough this time.

"The one and only," he chuckled. "They call me Bill 'cause I always pay for my smokes by sucking cock. Why don't you tell me how many marks are on that side."

Brayden glanced down, his vision a little blurry at the edges. "Looks like thirty-seven, sir." He rarely used 'sir' outside of his professors, but it felt right.

"Damn fools can't even mark off their own loads right," he muttered. "More like fifty, give or take. We can make it fifty-one, just slide that dick over to ol' Bill and let me work my magic."

Brayden wanted to object, but his chest felt heavy and his dick was already making a wet spot in his Hanes. He popped the waistband of his briefs and glanced at Bill's mouth, tongue sticking out again. He stroked himself once, took a deep breath, and then slid his cock across the velvet surface of Bill's tongue.

Right away, Brayden could see why he paid with oral. It had been maybe twenty seconds and he was already close to shooting his load. He inched closer to the stall wall until his hips were up against it. How many dicks had gotten sucked through the same hole, he thought distantly.

Bill chuckled, vibrating deeply through Brayden's dick. He slipped his mouth off with a wet pop, leaving his cock throbbing freely in the cool air. "You got a nice cock, but we can do better."

Brayden wasn't sure what it meant, but he heard Bill take a big breath. Brayden tried not to moan like a whore when Bill swallowed him back down in one gulp but anyone standing outside would know. His mouth was just so fucking warm and wet! Brayden could swear his dick was plumping even more than usual.

His hips started moving of their own accord, turning the heavenly blowjob into a sloppy facefucking. If it bothered Bill, he didn't say anything. Brayden pulled back inches of his slick and shiny shaft from between Bill's lips and slammed it home over and over again. His grip on the top of the stall wall increased.

Brayden felt a little tingle around his midsection, like his belly was moving up and down. It must've been his lunch, though. He was pretty trim and had been his whole life, but the feeling of his gut moving up and down as he railed Bill's sloppy mouth was unmistakable.

Brayden reached down with one hand and slid his shirt up. Sure enough, his gut was expanding while he watched. He had to have put on at least forty pounds of fat, but his belly was big, round, and firm. It hung straight off his body, almost making him look pregnant. Despite his best effort, its growth slowly pushed him further from Bill's fuck hole.

Brayden was a little concerned, but no matter how much he pulled out or thrusted, he couldn't manage to dislodge the head of his cock from Bill's grasp. His body began to bulge and strain against his tight clothes, seams quickly wearing out.

Brayden couldn't bring himself to stop, even if he was scared of what would happen when he blew his load. Not that he had much time to dwell on it.

His voice broke, dropping in pitch, the second his cum hit Bill's tongue. He pounded the last few thrusts as hard as he could, pushing as much dick he could with his huge ball gut in the way. His average body and dick were no more.

Brayden had never grown a beard, but a full salt-and-pepper bush rested on his face. The overhead light gleamed off his bald head when he brushed his hand across it. His clothes had become a leather vest and chaps over denim jeans, his drippy and wet cock hanging halfway down his thigh.

Brayden's head was still spinning from his earthshaking orgasm and strange thoughts started to fill in the gaps. All the sloppy blowjobs, being a young cub and bulking into a full bear, the leather and cigars. He'd taken so much cock that he got 'cum pig' tattooed inside his ass cheeks. What a raunchy and sordid life he lived.

After bouncing around for a while, Brayden recalled buying out a shop that just opened near the food court that specialized in tobacco pipes and cigars. A few of his customers were addicted but totally broke, so he let them pay by face-fucking them or blowing a wad in his ass. He remembered drilling the hole in the stall wall himself.

"Fucking A, Bill," Brayden panted. "Really outdid yourself this time." He was weak in his knees and collapsed back onto the toilet, taking a deep breath of cigar smoke and stale piss. It was a scent he had become accustomed to.

"If there's two things I know, it's smoking pipes," he joked, puffing another wisp into Brayden's stall.

"You always were a sloppy dick pig, Bill," he joked, hoisting himself back up. He looked over the stall wall at the satisfied daddy bear puffing a cigar before he left, forgetting to add the thirty-eighth tally.

At a table near the Chinese food stand, Brayden noticed that a group of regulars had started chatting up some college kids who were eating lunch. The bears had their hands resting on the younger guys' shoulders, slowly wandering and feeling them up. Brayden chuckled as he walked by, wondering which pair was going to make it to the bathroom first.

Taming Colton

Colton rapped on the door a few times, then opened it and stepped inside without waiting for an answer. When he walked into the living room, Jeremy was half-asleep on the couch, sleeping off the previous evening’s hangover. Jeremy nearly jumped a foot in the air, but Colton threw him a peace-sign and kept on walking.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Jeremy shouted, grasping his temples. His hangover from the party he’d hosted to celebrate the new grad school admissions where he was a teaching assistant was taking its toll. He’d taken some medicine, but his headache hadn’t abated yet. Pulling his robe shut, he picked himself off the couch and padded after Colton. The two were friends, sort of. Jeremy had met Colton from a friend of a friend through the grad school and Colton had gotten attached… to his house. The house Jeremy rented had a pool in the backyard and a tall privacy fence.

The first few times he visited, Colton had at least waited for Jeremy to come to the door. Recently, the man just busted in whenever the mood hit, to Jeremy’s chagrin. Jeremy found Colton a little endearing first, and he had a tight, muscular body. He almost thought Colton had a crush on him for a bit until he found Jeremy having sex with some random girl on his patio. Besides a lack of social decorum, Jeremy noticed that a lot of things had begun to show up broken or moved since Colton’s visits increased in frequency.

It was just a cup or bowl he’d noticed in the trash at first, but it quickly escalated to things like his workout clothes in the wash, his wet underwear stuffed into the bottom of the hamper, and then a masturbator he’d hidden in his nightstand for a rainy day mysteriously on the counter in the bathroom, filled with cum that definitely wasn’t his. Jeremy used it, maybe (definitely) without washing it, but Colton had still crossed the line. They weren’t dating nor were they roommates. They were barely friends, even.

Jeremy was over it; he’d already decided he needed to do something about it. He complained to one of his friends, who directed him to another guy who knew a wizard in Utah. That guy sent him a curse that’d make Colton into whatever the next thing he broke at Jeremy’s house was. He’d never dabbled in magic before and honestly doubted it would do anything when he poured the concoction on his doorknob.

Jeremy couldn’t deny he was eager to see if it would even work. Would Colton tear some underwear and get cursed to hug Jeremy’s nuts? Maybe he should discretely put out another masturbator... Jeremy didn’t want to admit it, but there was a small part of him that wanted nothing more than to have Colton wrapped around his cock for a while.

“Dude, you need to relax,” Colton shrugged, flashing a shit-eating grin at Jeremy. His head throbbed a bit. Following Colton onto the back patio, he nearly tripped over one of the many pool toys someone had left at his house. His friends always brought them when they came over and left them since they didn’t have pools of their own. He’d inflated them all for the party last night and had been too shitfaced to deflate them before he passed out half-naked on the couch.

The shiny, exaggerated smiles stared around lifelessly as they bobbed in the pool. The only one that wasn’t too overdone was a brown horse, complete with an inflatable mane, tail, and four legs.

“Maybe you should just go home for once,” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“Maybe you should relax and take a dip in the pool,” Colton chuckled. “No homo, you know how it is.” With that, Colton shirked off his shirt and tossed his pants down. Colton’s flaccid dick hung down over his fat nuts, the pink head winking at Jeremy from inside his foreskin. Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off it and he wanted to kick himself when he started to pop a chub.

Colton sneered a little, went to take a step backwards, and slipped on his own clothes. With a yelp, he landed bare ass first onto the horsey pool toy behind him. In other circumstances, the toy might have simply popped from the weight of an adult man crashing down onto it. However, the second the vinyl toy broke, Jeremy’s curse enacted.

From where he was standing, Jeremy could see the shiny plastic material had latched onto Colton’s frame in thick, heavy ropes. It almost looked like he was laying in a puddle of brown goo as it climbed up his sides. Wherever it touched slowly became brown, glossy, and smooth.

“Holy shit!” Colton yelled, flailing around, but unable to detach from the growing puddle of brown latex. “What the hell is happening?”

Jeremy sneered. “I tried to tell you that you should just go home. I got tired of having you messing with my stuff and breaking it and coming over all the time. I know a guy who said you’d become whatever you messed with first. I was kind of hoping you’d get turned into a pair of underwear, but this might be fun too.”

All the color rushed out of Colton’s face as the latex spread up his chest. His pecs and abs reappeared as glossy shaped bubbles, complete with seams running up to his bright pink nipples. As it spread down his arms and legs, his hands and feet quickly rounded off into gray hooves. Whether from fear or the magic, his cock slowly erected, his uncut meat sticking up from his rubberized thighs.

The latex almost seemed to savor the moment, slowly flowing up the outside of his penis. Unlike how simplified the rest of his body had become, the latex fit to every curve and wrinkle of his cock, looking like it was cast from a dildo mold. To Jeremy’s surprise, it didn’t stop there. Once the goo had sealed his cock inside, it filled out more, the ring and head flaring out proudly. His balls had grown, inflated, but still hung down in the almost leathery-looking rubber sac. From the neck down, he was indistinguishable from an anthropomorphic horse-shaped sex doll.

“Make it stop! I’ll go home and stop coming over, man! This is so fucked up!” Colton’s head shook back and forth as the latex flowed up his neck. Jeremy had never taken himself as the sadistic type but watching Colton struggle to escape his rubbery fate really did something to him. His boner was throbbing against his thigh, begging to be let out of its boxer prison.

Suddenly, Jeremy had an idea. He definitely wanted to be able to have some fun with his new toy, but if he was just a one-to-one recreation of the pool toy, there wouldn’t be anywhere for him to stick it in. He rushed back inside, tearing the drawer out of his nightstand to find the masturbator he’d shoved his dick in three times a day since Colton had used it. He discarded the plastic casing on his bed and ran back out to the patio.

The latex had covered Colton from head to toe, latex pushing the horse’s muzzle out of the front of his head. Jeremy grabbed onto his torso and flipped Colton over, surprised at how little he seemed to weigh. Pulling up the inflated tail, he lined the soft rubber part of the masturbator up with where he thought Colton’s asshole should be and pressed it against his body. For a second, nothing happened, but the latex quickly slurped it up. The rubber toy sank inside and melted, replacing the solid brown vinyl with a shiny pink hole.

Possessed by the sight in front of him, Jeremy leaned in, bringing his face closer to Colton’s toy hole. He’d never imagined the smell of the rubber would turn him on, but he swore he could still smell Colton’s musky balls even transformed into rubber. Jeremy let his tongue hit the base of Colton’s balls and run up and around his hole. The toy body flinched, almost seeming to vibrate like it could still feel what Jeremy was doing to him.

He decided to play with Colton a bit more, running his tongue around the plastic hole and squeezing his mottled brown and pink horsey cock. Jeremy couldn’t believe his eyes when he pulled his hand off to a dollop of latex pre hanging from Colton’s penis. The curse had worked out better than he had even imagined. He had a new living sex toy that could cum! What could be better?

Jeremy wasted no more time. He tossed off his robe and boxers, not even caring that the latter had landed in the pool. His erection sprung up and hit him in the stomach lewdly, his cock and balls already wet with precum as well. He didn’t even care that his head still hurt. If he didn’t bury six inches of rubber horse cock into his mouth in the next ten seconds, he thought he’d probably spontaneously combust.

Flipping Colton over again, his stare was met with the sterile, smiley gaze of a pool toy. A clear plastic valve had formed where his bellybutton once was. Jeremy toyed with deflating and reinflating him with his own hot breath, but there would be time for stupid shit like that.

Licking his lips, he opened his mouth as wide as he could and took Colton’s cock as far back into his throat as he could in one go. The head of it was like nothing he’d ever sucked before. It spread the back of his throat open as it went down, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to pull it back out once it was lodged inside. He’d never felt so lewd choking down the cock of a man he was in complete control over, his own cock throbbed in response. His spit lubed up the rubber dick and he pushed it almost all the way down his throat as many times as he could before he had to breathe in. Even rubber, he’d never had anything that far down his throat before.

Pressing his fingers inside the hole he made, he could feel all the rubbery nubs inside of it flexing and squeezing down on the digit. Jeremy immediately slipped the cock out of his mouth, enjoying the salty, bitter taste of the rubbery pre that coated his tongue. He wondered what might happen to him if he ingested some of the rubber from Colton’s horsey cock. Would he turn into a rubber toy too?

“I bet that feels so good,” he slurred, half-drunk with pleasure and power from what he’d done. Jeremy pushed Colton’s vinyl legs apart, revealing a bead of clear fluid dripping from his hole. It just got better and better, Jeremy thought.

Jeremy could feel how hot the liquid pouring out of the hole was as his dick slid inside. He hilted inside like his dick was gliding through hot jelly and almost nutted instantly.

“H-hot,” he mumbled, reaching down to stroke the horsey cock while he plowed Colton’s hole. He had intended for it to be nothing but punishment, but there was no way Colton wasn’t also getting off on being transformed and totally dominated. Jeremy put more weight down on the hollow toy, reveling in how it squished and slapped wetly under his body.

The hot vinyl hugged every little bit of his cock, self-lubricating from the messy masturbator he’d installed. The living nubs assaulted every nerve ending in the head of his cock, squeezing, and milking every drop of pre from his shaft. Jeremy moaned loudly, not caring for his neighbors, as he finally came, pump after pump of hot, white cum forced into Colton’s horsey hole.

Jeremy propped himself up on his hands and his cock slipped out of the hole with a satisfying pop. Gazing down, he noticed Colton had shot a load of white rubber out of his cock that had dripped down his sides and pooled in the grout of the tiles around him. Jeremy smirked darkly, scooped a handful of it, and reached up to stroke Colton’s permanently hard cock. One round wasn’t going to be enough to sate him, Jeremy’s revenge had only just begun.

Dad's Way

Cole had been wandering around in the mall during his lunch break. He'd wanted to get something from the food court, but it was packed to the brim with old biker-looking dudes from the cigar shop smoking and the haze was triggering his asthma. Instead, he'd stumbled upon a Father's Day sale at a new clothing store, Dad's Way. Cole felt safe saying he'd never heard of it before. The mall was pretty different than he remembered though.

The boutique sported a variety of men's dress clothing, athletic wear, and even their own luxury underwear. His boyfriend, who had been struggling to find a job after the pandemic, definitely needed something to replace the piss-yellow dress shirt he swore always worked. Cole swore it made Darren look like a giant gay lemon. Fashion was one of the many things they disagreed on.

Thumbing through the shirts, Cole found the perfect button-up. Long-sleeved and white; it was simple, refined, and professional. Definitely not how he would describe the less-than-motivated Darren, but Cole felt it could be aspirational. Hopefully it would make at least make Darren seem worth hiring.

An attractive older man rang him up, his sleeves rolled back to reveal his shredded and exceptionally hairy forearms. Cole felt like a piece of meat getting sized up while the clerk bagged it, but in a "if I didn't have a boyfriend, I'd be on my knees behind that counter in a heartbeat" kind of way. Not that he would ever cheat, but if the job search didn't end soon, Cole just couldn't see his relationship with Darren lasting much longer.

With the shirt in hand, Cole left to return to work. Lunch was a bust, but he'd at least gotten something Darren would use.

The next morning, Cole and Darren had a little argument about the shirt. Darren had a job interview for a new tech start-up. It wasn't anything fancy, but it paid a few dollars more than minimum wage and would massively boost their income. Cole wouldn't have to pay their mortgage on his own, at least.

"Look, just trust me," Cole insisted. "This yellow monstrosity isn't doing you any favors. White is classic for a reason. I'll let you wear your favorite tie, at least." The tie was a black houndstooth pattern and matched the white shirt much better than the yellow one did.

"I'm telling you, it's not the shirt that's the problem," Darren argued back. "It's my resumé. It's bad, and I'm definitely not qualified for this job." He stood limply with his arms at his side while Cole adjusted the tie.

"Yeah, but think about all the white tech bros that get jobs in this field with less qualifications than you have. You have that certificate, it'll be fine." Cole said. "Just be confident. You're cute, so."

"Hopefully cute enough to hire," Darren shrugged. "I'm going to be late if i stick around any longer. I'll be home after a while."

"Good luck, sweetie." Cole stood up straight kissed Darren on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

Darren swept out of the room with the briefcase Cole had gotten him for his birthday. It didn't take long before Cole was snuggled back up in bed and fell asleep. It was his day off, after all.

He woke up what felt like a few hours later. Cole could've sworn he'd fallen asleep wearing a shirt and shorts but, lo and behold, he only had on a jockstrap. He held the silky bedsheet up to peer down at himself. The waistband proudly read 'Dad's Way.' The pouch left little to the imagination with his protruding glans clearly visible through the thin fabric.

It was definitely sexier than anything he'd ever bothered to wear before, but Cole knew he hadn't bought anything else from that store at the mall the day before. Strange enough, the room around him seemed totally different as well.

Darren was usually the type to scatter his clothes all over the room. If there wasn't a dirty pair of boxers on the headboard, it definitely wasn't their room. Even beyond that, the walls were painted white and the cracked linoleum had been replaced with expensive-looking hardwood.

Their dresser had been replaced by a huge vanity littered with gold necklaces and rings, a few rings far too big to be used on fingers. It made Cole's dick chub involuntarily, like his body remembered something his mind hadn't quite grasped yet.

Stepping out into the hallway, fine art and photographs lined the wall. Cole stood next to an older man in many of them, someone who looked familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Either way, Cole was attached to him at the hip and smiling brightly in every single picture.

Across the house, he heard the front door close. "Honey, I'm home!" A deep voice called. Cole knew it had to be Darren coming back from his job interview. He felt a little self-conscious in only the jockstrap, but he couldn't bring himself to hide his arousal. It was definitely what Daddy deserved to see first thing when he got home.

Cole shook his head, unsure where that last thought came from. He strutted out into the living room and splayed himself out across the black leather sofa. He was full-on erect at that point, the flush creeping down from his cheeks onto his hairless chest.

To his surprise, the older man from the pictures swept into the room. His white shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest and stomach. His nipple piercings glinted brightly in the light as he strutted across the room like he owned the place. He dropped his briefcase at the foot of the couch and then smiled like a million bucks as he reached down and palmed Cole's bulge.

"You look like a fucking dream, babe," he muttered, biting his lip. Cole spread his legs wider, his body responding with lust before his mind could really object.

"How'd the interview go?" Cole asked in spite of himself.

"Oh, you know, kids these days just don't know how to dress themselves," he joked, smirking. "You always pick out the best shirts, I don't know how I'd dress without you."

Looking closer, Cole noticed the shirt the mysterious older man was wearing was identical to the shirt he'd purchased for Darren the day before. It seemed impossible that there was such a radical change, but they did resemble each other. Darren was an unmotivated slob and had a bit of a tummy, but Daddy seemed so ambitious, sexy, confident... how was it the same person?

"Darren?" Cole muttered, managing to gain just a little control over himself.

"What is it, babe? Need a little more from daddy?" He replied, pulling the jockstrap down. Cole's erection sprang up and slapped him across the lower stomach wetly. Without a second to spare, Darren's mouth sucked in Cole's dick to the hilt.

The hair of his beard prickled against Cole's hairless groin as Daddy relentlessly slurped and suckled on his cock. All the while, he held intense and unflinching eye contact with Cole. He knew in his core that this was Daddy; his partner who provided for him and took care of him, sucked and fucked him whenever he felt like it. Cole suddenly wasn't sure what he had been so confused about.

They lived together in Daddy Darren's house that he paid for with the tech company he owned. Still, Cole had picked out all the decorations and even their clothes. If Cole wanted it, Daddy Darren provided it. Cole only had to be ready to let Daddy blow off some steam at a moment's notice. It was a small price for a life of luxury and non-stop unprotected sex.

Daddy's finger came up to Cole's ass and snapped him back to reality as it slid into his well-trained hole, then another shortly after. A second later, he was shooting his load right into Daddy's mouth. Not missing a beat, Darren stood up. His belt was already unbuckled, revealing his briefs with the "Dad's Way" branding across the waistband.

A gold cockring winked at Cole as Darren's pants hit the floor. Without missing a beat, Daddy slid inside and started hammering his boy. Cole's favorite thing was always how hard Daddy fucked. His second favorite thing was how often. Cole had never been with an older guy before but, after the first time, he instantly quit his job and became the trophy boy that Darren always wanted.

Darren leaned down, not slowing his pace in the slightest, and shoved his cum-flavored tongue straight into Cole's mouth. Cole relaxed, confident in his choice of clothing.

Commission for @bremenmask:

            “That thing is hideous, dude,” Carl groaned. Bart had unearthed a gaudy gold necklace from the box. It was just the remnants of their sperm donor, the stuff he left behind before he beat it and left them when they were little. Since returning to their abandoned family home, they had been slowly sifting through the stuff their dad had left behind. With no other real family to speak of beside him, they were passed around in the system. The only good thing he ever did for them was never come back for his house.

            The boxes had sat in the attic for the few weeks since they moved back in. Eventually they agreed it was time to sift through his things, curiosity getting the better of them. They had both always wished to have known their father, but they didn’t feel like they needed to keep his stuff to remember him by, definitely not some sleazy jewelry at least. It made Bart look like some kind of seventies porn star, the way it framed his thin collarbone. All he was missing was the ‘stache and he’d be a bonafide daddy.

            Carl shook his head, dropping the tank top was holding. Weird thought. He’d never really gotten over their dad leaving, especially since they had never known their mom either. Once they were old enough to dress themselves and started school, their dad left. It was a boring tale of being passed around growing up, but they got their inheritance when they turned eighteen and moved back in together.

            “Yeah, but Dad might’ve been onto something with it. I look rich,” Bart jested, a snarky smirk plastered across his face. “You oughta take that tank top. It looks like it’ll fit you perfectly.” As the older brother, Carl was a little jealous that his brother had gotten all the beefy genes. He was tall, broad, and dusted in hair. He’d played baseball in high school, but not well enough to make it into college. Carl, on the other hand, was pretty, thin, and cared more about fiddling with his computer than leaving the house.

            “If this thing makes me look as douchey as you do, I’ll pass. Take it off and let’s put it with the ‘to-keep’ stuff. We can always pawn it later if we need some quick cash.” Carl suggested. “Assuming it’s real gold.”

            Bart muttered something under his breath and hid the gold chain inside the collar of the flannel shirt he was wearing when his brother wasn’t looking. Carl was kind of bossy, which Bart guessed was his job as the older brother, but Bart didn’t always listen. It was less important now than ever since they were both eighteen. Bart was an adult in his own right too. If he wanted to hang onto the chintzy jewelry that his dad left behind, he should be allowed to.

            “Why don’t you go start dinner and I’ll drag this back up to the attic?” Carl suggested, the white tank top still hanging over his shoulder.

            Bart wandered into the outdated kitchen and gathered the veggies to craft a salad. Bart was pretty into clean eating since his sporting days, and he wasted no time breaking the head of lettuce down with the butcher knife. As he was chopping away, he noticed the back of his hands seemed a little denser with hair. It must’ve been the fabled second puberty he’d heard so much about, even if he wasn’t expecting it so soon.

            Brimming with excitement at his burgeoning masculinity, he popped a shred of lettuce into his mouth and recoiled instantly. The tasteless, crunchy leaf was just not what he really wanted. For some reason, he craved greasy fried chicken with a side of fries absolutely slathered in ranch dressing. The calories would be insane, but…

            He found himself wiping the sweat off his brow as he opened the freezer and pulled out the two bags. They were for cheat-days or special occasions, but he needed them. As he waited for the oven to preheat, Bart dimly registered that his body felt different. He’d started to balloon outwards more than he had before. He felt heftier than he had even at his biggest during the height of baseball season. His arms got bigger, his chest grew broader, and his midsection started to protrude out. The hairs running down his arm thickened and darkened slowly, the shadow creeping up underneath his shirt. Anyone peering in might easily mistake him for a man twice his age.

            Leaning back against the counter, he lifted an arm and was immediately hit with a wave of B.O. Whatever deodorant he’d applied a few hours before had already worn off in a bad way. Still, he felt a little stirring in his tighter jeans. It was the scent of a man, after all, and he was pretty damn manly. Bart reached up and popped the collar of his shirt open to let some of the heat out. He could see the golden glint of the chain around his neck when he looked down.

            “D-Dad?” Bart was caught off guard by the kitchen door opening. Carl could hardly believe it, why after all this time?

            “Carl!” Bart rushed over and pulled Carl into a headlock; the latter too shocked to recoil. Despite the anger welling up inside him, the heady musk of his dad’s armpit seemed to blast those thoughts right out of his head. Carl felt more dumbfounded, and a little horny, than anything.

            “I see you decided to try that tank top out after all,” he laughed. “It looks good on you, nice and tight.” Carl had always been the thinner of the two, but Bart could already see that he was filling out with muscle. There was just the hint of growth on his stomach and his arms seemed heftier than before.

            The gears slowly turned in Carl’s head. “Bart? What the hell happened to you?” He had only left the room a few minutes earlier, but Bart had exploded in sweaty muscles and hair. He looked like the type of guy who went to the gym a few days a week and stuffed himself silly the rest. It was a far cry from the guy who never even seasoned his chicken before he cooked it.

            “I’m just dadding out, dude,” Bart smirked, patting his stomach with his other hand. He let Carl out of the headlock. “Look pretty good, eh?”

            Carl didn’t want to admit it but there was something… magnetic about the way Bart looked. He was so beefy and hairy and even the smell of his armpit that lingered around his head had him popping wood right there in the kitchen. If he was alone, he would definitely be jerking off just on that.

            “You still have that necklace on,” Carl’s expression flattened. “I thought I told you to take it off.” Was that the source of why he’d changed so much?

            “Oh, this old thing?” Bart pulled it over his head and off, wasting no time dropping it onto Carl’s shoulders. Carl’s expression changed from anger and disgust to a slack-jawed awe nearly instantly. The sharp light in his eyes dimmed as a goofy smile replaced it. Despite objecting to his show of affection just a moment before, Carl wanted nothing more than to bask in the glow of his daddy and take care of all of his needs. Without hesitating, Carl reached forward and tore open the button-down shirt Bart was wearing.

            “Aggressive,” Bart sneered. “Get to it then.”

            All the blood in Carl’s head was rushing to his groin, heating his body up tremendously. His head dropped to Bart’s pit, and he greedily huffed it as he ran his hands down Bart’s beefy torso. The feeling of the hairs making the palms of his hands almost numb. He let his hands wander lower and began palming the growing bulge that was soon to be inside him. One hand still petting his dad, he used the other to pop the button on his jeans and unzip them. The heady scent that unleashed when his pants came down went straight to his head blasting any other thoughts away. If he hadn’t already been quivering with desire, that would have pushed him over the edge.

            “Daddy, you smell good,” he slurred. Falling to his knees, he huffed Bart’s hard cock through his white briefs. They were a little damp with sweat and got even wetter when Carl started sucking his musk through the fabric.

            Bart leaned back against the counter and rested his hands on the back of his head. There was something so right about being a daddy getting worshiped by his boy that he just didn’t fight it. If Carl wanted to suck the sweat out of his briefs and the cum from his balls, who was he to say no? His boy had been totally beefing out anyway, at least to the point where Bart was twenty years ago. His son would’ve been a great pro athlete if he could hold a book.

            “That’s right,” Bart whispered encouragingly, “just like that.” Reaching one hand down, he pressed Carl’s face into his dick harder. It was almost enough to cum just from the indirect stimulation, but he had bigger plans. “Get it out.”

            Carl looked up, his cheeks reddened and his eyes alight. Bart loved to see Carl look at his dick like it was the most delicious thing in the world. He pressed his nose into the crook where Bart’s cock and balls met and inhaled deeply over and over again, stroking his daddy off with both hands. The scent of his dad’s musky cock and the lewd squelching in his ear had him unloading in his basketball shorts, the white fabric darkening and growing heavy with cum.

            “Damn, already jizzing just from huffing daddy’s nuts?” Bart chuckled, his dick pulsing in Carl’s hands. “How about you let me give you something better?” Grabbing the straps of the tank top, Bart pulled Carl, who was desperate to keep sniffing his balls, up to eye level. He wasted no time reaching back and sliding his hand inside Carl’s sweaty crack, fingering his already-loose hole open.

            “You’re such a slut for daddy’s cock,” he whispered into Carl’s ear. “Already loose and wet, turn around and pull it out.”

            Carl whimpered, sliding his wet shorts down. His hard, fat dick flopped out and slapped into the groove in his thick abs, sticky with his load. He looked more like an amateur wrestler than a baseball star, and he had definitely put his time in grappling other sweaty dudes. His favorite sweaty dude to grapple with definitely had to be his daddy though. If he wasn’t lifting weights, he was getting spread open as often as he could.

            Carl traded places with Bart, putting his hands on the counter and sticking his thick ass out. Bart inhaled sharply as he spread Carl’s cheeks. His dick spat a glob of pre out at the sight. The dark hair swirling around the hole of Carl’s tight, muscular ass always got him bricked the fuck up.

            “I’ll never get tired of this view.” He lined himself up, swabbing the wet head of his dick against Carl’s hole, teasing him. “You want this daddy dick?”

            Carl whimpered, pressing back into it, desperate to get fucked. “Please, I need it so bad.” He drew the last word out, still rubbing his hole into Bart’s cock. Carl always, always, waited for Bart to make the first move in these situations. His daddy was the boss and Carl was his little fucktoy muscle boy to get used whenever daddy wanted.

            Bart took his time, sliding in a bit and then pulling out, savoring Carl’s moans as he endlessly edged him. His favorite thing to do was tease and tease and then shove his dick in all at once when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. Bart reared back and slammed his dick into the hilt, the sudden stimulation causing him to blow his wad right into Carl’s ass. Bart squeezed his shoulders tight as Carl’s hole milked his dick for all it was worth.

            Carl’s normally-baritone voice shot up an octave as he fired his second load across the counter. Still hilted, Carl leaned back to kiss his daddy as the oven beeped to let them know it was finished pre-heating.

Already past his office hours, Dr. Thompkins, Kent, had waited around an extra twenty minutes for the student to show up for his make-up exam. He’d gotten enough flak from the football coach already for stealing his athletes away from practice, but rules were rules. If the student didn’t make at least an A- on the exam, he would be put on academic probation and no longer be allowed to participate in extracurricular activities.

Jarrett slid into the chair and picked up his pencil after finally showing up. Kent was astonished at how fast the student seemed to be breezing through it. The pencil hadn’t ceased moving once in the minutes since he began writing. He never wanted to give up on a student but, based on Jarrett’s other classwork, Kent wasn’t expecting anything more than a paltry C- at best.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Kent stood and circled his desk to look over Jarrett’s shoulder. To his surprise, all his multiple choice answers were correct. Even the short answers had well thought out arguments in their blanks. He was extremely suspicious. Jarrett hadn’t brought any extra materials in with him though, and there wasn’t anything obviously written on his bare, muscular arms either.

However, Kent noticed a strange zipper sticking out of the base of his sleazy white tank top. The silver brightly reflected the florescent light against his back, looking like it cut below the neckline. He knew a professor should never touch one of his students, but he grabbed it before he could stop himself. All at once, Jarrett seemed to deflate as he pulled it down. The head of another student Kent was familiar with popped out of the open seam, a look of shock and fear on his face.

“What in the world!” Kent was flabbergasted. “This is expulsion worthy! Academic dishonesty! Cheating!” A few more words trickled out of his mouth before he finally caught his wits.

“Shit!” Darren Jenkins yelled, worming out of the clothes Jarrett was wearing and sliding out of the room before Kent could stop him. The weaselly little nerd was in for such a rude awakening. Kent immediately wanted to chase after him, but what was he supposed to do with the test or…

He leaned down and picked up the deflated-Jarrett costume. It seemed to have a silicone-y and warm texture, shockingly lifelike to the touch. It was dusted in short dark hairs that thickened in the groin and armpits. Despite it being relatively deflated, the suit’s large genitals remained bulbous and jutted lewdly out. It even smelled like musk and the cheap body sprays that student athletes would use to avoid bathing. Biting his bottom lip, he couldn’t deny his curiosity. He was now alone in his office, with no other appointments, at the end of the work day.

Kicking off his sensible loafers, Kent held the suit up and carefully slid one of his legs into the left leg hole. Darren had been fully dressed inside, so it didn’t seem like it would be immediately obvious from the outside. Sliding his other foot into the right leg, he pulled it up to his waist. Kent felt silly as the suit flopped limply around his waist, though the erection lined up against his groin made his own dick twitch. He waggled it back and forth, blushing at how silly and lascivious it was.

Without wasting more time, he slipped his arms into the top half and then all that was left was the head. He was unsure how he was meant to zip it by himself. It wasn’t as if he intended to wear it for that long, he suspected. Just a quick drive to see how it worked for himself and then he’d go back to having Darren investigated for academic dishonesty. Then he’d figure out what happened to the real Jarrett and investigate him as well.

Taking a deep breath, Kent pulled the head of the suit on over his own doubled over, his entire body almost vibrating. The suit had activated on its own, the zipper pulling up and sealing Kent inside. Suddenly, Kent could feel the cool air conditioner blowing on his bare skin. His nipples stiffened on the thick shelf of his pecs, two lewd, pink mounds piercing through the swirl of dark hair. Kent’s hands came up to fondle them before he even opened his eyes.

Kent was taken aback at how... full of himself he felt. The suit had taken on a life of its own as soon as he’d been fully inside of it. He couldn’t even feel his sweater vest through the suit. Running a calloused hand across his abs, his already erect cock immediately sprang a leak. Gushing pre, it was as though the body was in absolute ecstasy at the time of its creation. He understood the shit-eating grin on Darren’s face when he sat down to the take the exam. It felt like any small movements would have him cumming over and over.

Stepping back across the room, Kent slid into his expensive leather chair and immediately had his hand on the fat seven inches absolutely hanging from his groin. An abnormally deep voice moaned out of his throat, a vapid tone of a jock that could throw a ball real good but not study. Kent felt like he could take a victory home in a football game, get a blowjob from every guy on the team, and still be horny enough to jerk off before bed.

Feverishly building up to his first of hopefully many orgasms, Kent busted a huge wad all over his desk. Rope after rope of thick white cum soaked every sheet of paper he had ready for his lectures the following week. He couldn’t even care about the couple hours of work ahead of him now, lost in the afterglow of a massive jock load.

Kent nearly jumped out of his skin when someone banged on the door, jarring him back to his senses. “Thompkins! Is Jarrett still takin’ his exam in there? We gotta get to the field for practice or else he’s gonna be a limp noodle for the game. Too much studying is bad for the kids, I tell ya.”

“Crap,” Kent whispered to himself. Should he tell Coach Paul that Jarrett had already left or--

Coach swung the door open without waiting for a response, the burly gorilla of a man taking a long look at Jarrett, his eyes pausing when beholding Kent’s still-throbbing boner. “Where’s the prof at?”

Kent panicked. “He, uh, had an emergency and had to go. He said I could just take my exam again next time.”

“Right, so why the fuck are you in here blasting your dick off instead of at our usual place?” Coach asked, stepping over and swabbing his finger through the copious seed all over the desk. Paul was an ex-NFL linebacker turned coach. Still in better shape than most people would ever be, but he’d grown a bit of a beer gut in the last few years. He was an absolutely huge hulking man and almost every inch of visible skin was covered in thick, dark hair.

Kent tried to cover himself, but his hand simply wasn’t big enough to fully hide the still-hard dick resting over his bellybutton. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Well, shit, Thompson ain’t here right now so maybe we could...” Paul held his hand in a C-shape and motioned it in and out of his mouth, his tongue lewdly following the glide. Was he suggesting fellatio? “Always loved getting my protein straight from the source.“

“You mean you want to suck my penis?” He said the last word quietly, a little embarrassed, and aroused, at the prospect.

“Penis?” Paul scoffed. “You’ve been spending too much time in class. I’m gonna blow your cock ‘til it shrivels up.” Without hesitating, Paul slipped around the desk and pulled Kent’s hands away. Making intense eye contact, Paul fell to his knees and took Kent’s borrowed fat cock straight into his hot, wet mouth.

Kent nearly busted again despite only having cum minutes before. The mouth of a seasoned cocksucker was something Kent had never experienced, the thick tongue bristling across his swollen glans. Paul’s thick stubble rubbed on his balls, elevating the pleasure Kent was feeling to a new high. He’d only had sex a handful of times in his life, too withdrawn in his studies to date around much.

That all seemed so far away to Kent. All of the poignant literary analysis he had concocted in his life gave way to the simple pleasure of being a jocked-out frat boy with a fat dick and balls. His thoughts slowed in his head as he edged closer and closer to his second orgasm.

Paul reached down with his free hand and stuck two fingers directly up Kent’s tight hole. Kent gasped, the sudden, unfamiliar pleasure releasing another huge wad down Paul’s throat. His body jerked forward, his ass coming up from the chair to push his dick as far down Paul’s throat as he possibly could. The older coach took it like a champ, each pulse of Kent’s cock almost visible in his throat.

Sliding back with a wet, lewd pop, Paul coughed a few times to clear his throat. “Damn, I always forget how huge your loads are.” His face was bright red, eyes watering. “That should help keep your head in the game for practice now. Normally only one before practice, but fuck it, a star like you deserves to get some head.”

“Yeah dude,” Kent slurred, riding the high from his second load so fucking high. He almost couldn’t even remember why he was there in the first place, something about retaking a test? Coach Paul mentioned it was time for practice though. “Aren’t we gonna be late for practice or whatever?”

“Damn straight.” Paul rose to his feet and adjusted his own erection, visible in the tight denim jeans he wore. “We’ll meet in the showers after everyone goes home, understand?”

Jarrett’s hole throbbed unconsciously, signaling to him exactly what to expect. “Yes sir.”

write story of Lucemond 👽👽

The Elven Tavern by Recromge

————————————————————————

A new adventurer? I'll help you find a guide!

Chapter 1: Whos that?

Chapter 2: That's the tavern?

_________________________________________

Chapter 1:

Sitting in town central lays a small tavern. It is a little tavern of two floors and a feel that draws in anyone who looks at it. The tavern’s name you ask? Well, that would be the ‘Elven Tavern’, the tavern run by a beautiful elf is quite popular in the town. The building made up of various shades of wood and stone alike makes up for it’s not-so-appealing look with its interior and service. With its stone pavement and the shabby deck, it could use a good redesign but yet it’s still so popular? If you’re wondering why you should ask the owner. “Me? I don’t have a clue, it’s still surprising to see all sorts of people come in to dine. Some stay to dine and drink while others choose to rest here, I’m just happy to see all the races getting along when they come in. From elves and humans all the way down to the dragonkin and merfolk, we get people of all kinds they fight every once in a while but we don’t get many of them.”

You hear that? Looks like it’s a better place than I thought although how much of that do you believe? Let’s ask some others. “It’s a decent place. I get to drink as much as I want without worrying about being brought into a fight for what I am. So It’s an ‘A’ in my book.” A member of the dragonkin said. “I can’t stand all the improper beings that enter here but at least I know that I’m not going to ingest

poison, so I guess in that right it’s okay.” An elvish man said while turning away. “If I have to see another member of the dark lands then I’ll personally go hunt them down, but I get good quality food and the drinks are good so I don’t mind seeing them here.” A woman with beautiful blue hair said.

It seems like the opinions are different from wha- “I like it here! The food is good and so are the drinks, the people at least try to be nice and there is never a dull moment, we may not always get along but we have fun. There are games, food, and a place to stay, and when we need it we can always count on the staff to help out in any way. Even the owner comes out to talk and have fun with the crowd.” A human male said. I stand corrected, it seems like most don’t get along but they tolerate each other for the sake of the tavern or maybe for the sake of the tavern’s owner.

“Dang it! Oof!” Speak of the devil. “That hurt.” A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair seems to have fallen on her face. The girl gets up dusting off her white dress, on a closer look she seems to be wearing a knee-length dress with a brown corset over it, brown boots, and a brown bag. The green-eyed lady smiles at a flower before pulling a knife out of her bag and cutting the flower out before putting it in a glass vial from her bag. “Nice! Valerian! This’ll help Granny Marry with her insomnia.” The lady walks away passing bushes and trees alike before finally leaving the forest she found herself in.

Walking down the paved path back to her tavern she passed many people from the town square, from men with red lizard-like skin to women with blue hair and gills on their necks. The town holds the largest population on the map! Some folk stopped the girl delivering their ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Hello!’s but the lady only smiled and waved at them before being on her way once more. The lady passed homes, restaurants, and buildings alike she eventually made her way over to a small home.

The walls were made mostly of stone with a dark wood roof and beams for support, it was behind in upgrades but it was always so mesmerizing to step up to. Maybe that’s why she liked it, it was simple but it never failed to get her attention. Knocking on the door with a smile on her face an elderly lady opened the door, A gray-haired lady sporting a purple dress with a dark pink shawl thrown over her shoulders smiled up at the blonde. “Oh! Dearie! It’s nice to see you again dearie, how have you been Ms. Mian?” Smiling at the little lady Mian handed over the glass to the little lady. “I’ve been good Mrs. Marry! I got the herbs you needed, try getting some rest now okay?” Granny nodded at her “Alright dear and you make sure to take care of yourself, how’s the tavern?”

Waving at Granny Mian walks away yelling out “It’s been good! Thanks for asking!” Making her way downtown she eventually found herself in front of a rundown-looking tavern.

————————————————————————

Hello everyone! This would just so happen to be the first chapter of my story ‘The Elven Tavern’, I sure hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I’ll get the next one finished and out as soon as possible!!

reblogging cause i forgot tags

Hi there

i have started to post a book on royal road, and thought you lot might want to check it out

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/63775/all-who-wander

check it out

Underknight - Perseverance

Okay. I’m making a story on Wattpad (which I only found recently and am already in love with it) and I’ll be posting a bit of art while doing the story, as well as some other things I’ll be doing while writing the story. ;)

Now, a bit about the story:

- It’s basically set in a medieval timeline, where all the monsters and humans are basically peasants, kings, queens, knights, sorcerers, etc, etc. 

- This story in particular takes place a few dozen years before the actual story itself, so most of the main characters will be kids or teenagers, except the old parents and so on and so forth. So, yeah.

- This story features two of my OC’s, a soul of Perseverance and a small dragon. However, my story has a slight twist to it. The soul traits, such as Justice, Determination, Perseverance, etc, are virtues, so I decided to add the VICES to it, which would give my story a little spice and would make sense to some of the things that would happen to my characters.

So far, that’s it, if there are any questions, I’ll gladly answer them, or will try to since the story is kinda half-developed, although I know the general direction of the story, the details are a little lacking..... so yeah.

Underknight belongs to me.

Art belongs to me.

Original Undertale characters belong to Toby Fox.

Wattpad update!

Perseverance: Chapter 1 is now out on Wattpad!

Took me a little longer than planned to finish it, but it's done! It's a little shorter than the Prologue, but it'll do.

If there are any questions, don't be shy to ask!

Xelah Galekiraya Diary entry Nr.??

Dear Diary,

My magic has finally gotten to the point of teleportation, the attack shadow spell, claw attack spell and sword attack spell are also finished and perfected. And I have finally finished mastering the lightning bow and the shield swords. The hoverboards were not easy to master but with a bit more training I think I can master them as well. The M10050 from AERO MILLS enterprise group is also going along well, with a bit more testing it can probably be perfectly put into our society of legends and demon/angel summons. The deal my uncles family made 149 years ago with the other species is in exactly 1 year going to be remade to refine a few parts of it, it is going to be the 3 time that it happens and I am a bit worried since the demons, Calveries and elves are cunning creatures. But I hope that the trolls, gerdanreyas and barbarians will accept another peace deal and not want to start a war with us. My cousin, Terlanda, will also be there and she seems to have gotten even more annoying than before, uncle, Tehalondo, has to berate her even more than usual. Terlanda‘s mother, Kerlondaria, seems also a bit annoyed with how her daughter has behaved. I just hope that the peace deal will end up well for all. The lesson I will have in 2 days will be about making a Logo to solidify that I finished school, the 13 school year was hard but I made it in a few months. I hope that my „Demon Helper Group Summoning“ goes well, and that strong humanoid guardians will answer my prayer, and that some of the fighters that will watch the school nexus battle will want to join my travels. So much to worry about but so little time, all I can do is hope and try hard.

—————————————————————————-

Does anyone want to see the whole story?? If yes please like the post or leave a comment, I am still new to the whole story writing thing and I hope that it will be good if I end up posting it here. And if you‘d like please also reblog this. Thank you and have a nice day/night!

-Xelah

Sorry Dudes, been busy w/school that I didn't get much time to do some more drawin's to share. But oh well, no'in to do but shake a leg

Dream Headshot art + Mini Story!!

Sliiiide.

    Scraaaaape.

    Sliiiiiiiiiide.

    You tremble behind the decrepit, old wooden table, that you know won't hold for long. When was this backup getting here?! You had taken a mission outside the City, to clear out a small village. The company was planning to rebuild the village, and set it up for orphaned children, so they had their own little rooms. You thought the idea was sweet and adorable, so you volunteered to help. Your entire crew was to kill the monsters roaming round, and get ready for the construction teams. The plan failed, however, when your crew was jumped by the Monsters, and now you were finding pieces of them... Well... Everywhere. So, you snuck into the nearest house to hide, but the thing was persistent, and followed you.

    You carefully step towards an open pantry, watching the Monster behind you shuffle around, with it's head swiveling back and forth on a rotted, spindly neck. You hold in a whimper and step closer to the closet, but you freeze as soon as you do.

    CRRREEEEAK-

    Damn it. Damn it all.

    You straighten, summoning your sword. The Monsters head sickly snaps on your direction with a loud popping noise.

    Ugh, disgusting.

    You did the one thing that was truly stupid, yet incredibly brave. You leap onto the table, brandishing your sword at the Monster, and slicing at it. It screeches and raises a claw, swiping down. You jump in time, and watch as the table gets destroyed below you, the monster was in a perfect position. Grabbing onto the chandelier that you had seen above the table beforehand, you slice it free and yell a battle cry as metal and your sword smash into it's skull. You grimace as the skull barely imitates the sound of bone cracking, and instead made an unfortunate sucking noise. You wrinkle your nose as you tug your weapon free, and look down. Your armor had thankfully saved you from being to hurt by the metal chandelier, and you wonder how the hell it had stayed in the rotted ceiling this entire time anyway. You didn't have time to ponder when you hear a loud gunshot, followed by two, three more.

    Backup!

    You breathe in relief and dart out the door of the house, when you get smashed to the ground by something powerful. A hand around your throat pinned you to the ground, and you grab at it, gasping for air. You feel cool metal against your temple. You manage to growl out,

    "Not... In-infected..!"

    The hand lessons it's grip and pulls away, and you sit up quickly, gasping for air. You blink up at the man before you, and immediately scramble to your feet and salute him with your left hand.

    "C-commander Dream, sir!"

    The (literally) flaming pheonix eyes you, and raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitch.

    "Glad to see your safe, cadet, and not infected, but that's the wrong hand for a salute."

    You flush red and quickly correct yourself.

    "S-sorry, Commander."

    Dream huffs softly, running a hand through his hair.

    "Don't worry about it, kid, and you don't need to be so formal. Especially out in the battlefield."

    You look around to find multiple monsters scattered about, oozing black blood from the holes in their heads and chest.

    " Is this..."

    "All of them? Yes."

    You relax, and peer up at the much taller Commander.

    "Did you come alone, sir- I-I mean, Dream..?"

    He nods, "I came as soon as I heard what the plans were. Look, I know this was something that was supposed to be done for good, but this place is full of scent markers from the Poachers. From the smell of it, marked a few hours before your team and you had arrived."

    Your stomach drops.

    "This was a trap. They knew what we were doing! How-"

    Dream waves a hand at you.

    " Don't. Do not tell anyone I indulged this information to you, either, but you're a smart kid, you'll figure it out."

    Your voice softens, " How would you know I won't babble..? "

    "I don't. "

    His sharp answer made you peer up at his face again, and you suddenly feel very small at the sharp scowl on his face.

    "If you do, I'll make sure those were your last words."

    You fidget, and nod. His scowl softens and he turns away.

    "Let's get you home. There's not much left of your team to take along, but if you wish to mourn them, I'll keep watch for more monsters."

    You look down at the ground. You knew a couple of these cadets from school, and you feel the tears welling in your eyes. Suddenly, you feel warmth coat you, and look up to see a fiery colored wing wrapped around you. Dream peers down at you with a look of understanding, and anger, you understood in return.

    You managed to return home the next day, thanks to Dream. Collapsing into your bed, you already planned your speech out for your team's funerals, but you had one more thing on your mind, and you couldn't even question it to anyone. Anger coursed through you at what Dream had told you about the Poachers. There was only one conclusion to that little issue.

    There's a mole in the Hunters Association.