I checked the address of my delivery after pulling up by the dark house. The large building with red brick and white columns was to be my last delivery of the night. I smiled, knowing I was delivering a late night snack to one of the brothers of the Kappa Psi Mu fraternity. I had heard some interesting rumors about the men of this fraternity house. I adjusted my clothes, grabbed the pizza in the warming bag, and then walked up to the door.
A big, husky young guy with a fair bit of muscles and a nice barrel-ish gut answers the door. He’s wearing a too-tight white wife beater and loose fitting basketball shorts. He sports a blonde buzz cut with connecting stubble of equal length. “He’s quite the stud”, I think to myself.
“Yo”, the frat boy says nonchalantly with a small smile. “You got the meat with extra cheese?”
“Bet he’s drinking, watching the game back up in his room in the frat house”, I think to myself, seeing his disheveled attire. “Yeah man, one large meat lovers, extra cheese.” I set it down on a couch near the door.
“Great,” he says, “Just step inside while I get my wallet.”
“Nice scruff poking over the top of his wife beater”, I think to myself. “I love hairy young guts”
“Sure thing man. Take your time” I say nonchalantly.
He takes a few minutes in finding his wallet, apparently a little drunk, and returns with cash. I am also vaguely aware that he is now wearing some sort of scented cologne; a deep, lulling fragrance that smells very good and relaxing.
“Something smells good, and it’s not just the pizza” I state, a dopey grin slowly spreading on my face. “This frat boy smells great now”, I think. “I wonder what scent that is. Would it be weird if I lean in to get a better sniff? Probably. Shit, I am starting to chub up here.”
“Yeah, old family recipe”, the stud before me says with a shrug before he discreetly and nonchalantly cups me over my cargo shorts.
I smile, liking the attention. I step closer to give him more access.
"Extra sausage,” he says with a smile, as continues to massage and rub my crotch, then with his other hand begins to rub my pert nipples through my thin shirt.
I moan a little, and come close so our bellies rub against each other. "I heard this house had a lot of hot gay frat boys. Glad the rumor is true.“
"Oh you like this, boy,” he says as moves his hand from my groin to my ass, squeezing my ample ass. "Well, to tell you the truth, you’re my pledge dare”, he states with a grin.
I move even closer, if possible, loving his hand on my ass. I want to make sure he has full access. I take advantage of the closeness to breathe in more of his wondrous cologne. It’s earthy, strong, and a little sweet. I close my eyes in pleasure both from the smell of this man in front of me and the attention he gives my ass. “Well I would love to help you make it in. What do you have to do?”
He leers and answers, “Just breathe in the cologne and let it happen.”
I start rubbing his hardening cock through his gym shorts. He’s way more hung than I expected. I can feel his rapidly rising manhood reaching halfway to his knees!
“Yes sir”, I automatically reply, and lean in and take a big whiff from the center of his chest. It smells heavenly, and I can feel my cock start to drool like crazy in my shorts.
He turns me around slowly, so that his hard cock is grinding against my ass through our shorts. From there he begins to shove his hands right down the front of my shorts, to get a better feel of my sack and rod.
"You’re going to make me moan if you keep this up,” I say languidly. It’s getting harder for me to focus on anything other than this gorgeous man. I briefly contemplate that I should head back to the store to close, but that thought drifts out of my head like a cloud on the wind. There is only his hard dick against my ass, his stocky body against mine, his rough hand down my pants, and his scent. I inhale another massive lungful, getting what felt like a faint buzz from it. I exhaled, and felt my cock release another surge of precum.
“You wanna feel good boy? Feel good for the rest of your life?” He says, a hint of cruel darkness to his voice.
“Fuck yeah. I heard you guys are great in the sack”, I shout, a little too loud considering how late it was.
“Just sign here,” he says offhandedly, pull out what looked like a receipt, but it didn’t have anything to do with pizza. All the while he was getting me nice and horny, beginning to peel down my cargo shorts to get access to my chubby, hairy butt.
“What’s this?” I ask, confused.
“Just sign” he says, getting his body close to me so I get another strong breath of the cologne.
I’m moaning as I’m getting rubbed, grinding my ass back on this stocky frat cub’s cock.
“I should read…..uhhhh…..yes sir.” With difficulty I manage to shakily scrawl my name on the piece of paper, not bothering to read what it said. This hunk wanted me to do it, and he was in complete control.
“Good boy,” he smirks, giving me a kiss on the neck. As soon as the pen is down, he pulls off his shorts and starts working his huge cock into me. It felt impossibly large, way bigger than any other dick that had reamed my ass. He did not wait for me to adjust to his enormous size, and like a machine without empathy, he used me as a tool to sate his lust.
“Fuck yes, fuck my ass right here in your frat house”, I say after overcoming the initial pain. His cock was obliterating my prostate, and if he had not moved so I was leaning over the arm of the nearby sofa, I would have fallen over in pleasure. My mind was reeling between the twin stimuli of the gigantic frat boy dick up my ass and the smell coming from the man it was attached to. "Fuck, I bet studs like you leak enough pre to use it as lube.“
He used the couch to support me, and quickly pulled my shirt off over my head. He then began to sensually stroke my sides, rubbing my smooth belly, chest, sides, and back as he continued to fuck me. He began slowing down his jackhammering, focusing on pulling as much of his length out of me before shoving it back in, making sure to keep maximum pressure on my prostate.
"Hmmm”, he says, "you’re leaking a lot of salty spit yourself.” He takes a bit of drool from my chin. I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open slackly, slowly drooling down my face while I could only focus on the dick that felt like it was rearranging my insides.
“Huh? Am I drooling? Fuck his dick feels good in me. He has a nice fat cock, he’s really filling me up. God his dick feels so good in me, I hope this feels as good for him as it does for me”, I groggily think. “Keep doing that, it feels fantastic”, I slowly state.
"Yeah,” remarks, popping his spit-covered finger in his mouth as if tasting it for something. He smiles and lets out a lusty sigh, and then begins to rub my meaty legs. I fail to notice as they began to shrink, slowly pulling up where his cock meets my ass. His thrusting has slowed considerably, no longer trying to deep dick me, but trying thrust me forward while keeping his dick shoved as deep in my ass as it would go. "You’re going to be a great Johnson, thank you so much for helping me make it into the frat.“
"But uhhhh, my name’s Greg”, I reply hazily. I lean back hard on this pledge, letting him stroke and rub me. "Your dick must be huge, it feels like it’s in my stomach.“
"Yeah, sure,” says, watching as my legs finish merging into his balls. They swell with the new addition, growing from the size of golf balls to the size of avocados. He groaned. “My dick is going to be the biggest dick in the entire frat.” He continued to rub all over my upper body, but felt no need to continue to thrust into me.
“My legs feel funny. Like they are saggy and hairy. And, like, full?” I said. “Wow, it’s getting hard to think. But this stud, sorry, my master, stopped thrusting”, I think. “He must want me to milk his dick with my ass.”
“I bet it’s already the biggest” I say slowly, letting more liquid drop from my mouth. It had its own taste now. Not like drool, but like something familiar that I couldn’t quite place.
“Yeah, that happens sometimes”, he offhandedly replies, taking a second to squeeze his engorged nuts. "You’re going to be huge,” he states with satisfaction, opening the top of the pizza box and moving it under my head, allowing my drool to splatter on it.
“So as soon as you cream, it’ll all be over,” he says to me. He begins milking my stubby cock, jutting out above the seam where my lower body was completing the process of becoming a penis. With one hand he rubs my body, watching the change slowly start to creep up my spine and with the other hand I rapidly jacks off my cock, the only thing yet to merge with him below my ribs. “It’ll feel good, just go when you’re ready Greg. You’re going to make my entire frat really, really happy.”
I happily splatter my precum-drool everywhere. I get a vague sense of pride that I’m making so much. Master must be proud. My arms begin fusing to my cockflesh body. I start to feel master’s hair follicle sprouting up my once smooth, chubby body. I can feel a sense of something below me, something large and vast. I dimly realize it must be my master, connecting himself to me as every level. I felt my chest narrowing, becoming more cock-like. "Fuck. You want me to cum?“ I pant, precum dripping down my face.
He groans in pleasure, as he is now no longer rubbing my body, but stroking his dick. Which I was becoming a part of. "Yeah, cum, it’ll all be over when you cum.” he growls.
My drool is getting everywhere. “I’m such a leaky dick”, I think. “I’m a big, musky leaky dick perfect for fucking and jerking off.” I start buckling, shooting my load as my dick and balls merge to my master’s shaft. Once that happens, the rest of my transformation happens immediately. I can feel blonde hair covering me, growing into a thick bush. I feel my head changing into a cockhead, my senses greatly reduces to just smell, taste, and touch. I feel my organs changing, becoming a urethra and other tissue. My world dims, allowing me to focus on my last conscious task. I feel master’s stroking, beating me faster and faster. I feel a swelling in my balls, a building of hot, thick frat boy jizz. I put all that’s left of me into that load, so that master can shoot it out and I can become one with him. Then I begin to shoot a colossal load while he lets out a massive grunt, right all over the pizza; buckets full of protein-rich cum coating the warm pizza like a triple serving of creamy, musky goodness.
“Wow in making so much cum”, I think. I can feel my mind fading. “I bet master will love having me unload inside his frat brothers. He will be so big, I bet he will get off four or more times a day, pumping his loads up every ass or down every greedy mouth. His cum is gonna grow them all big and strong”
“You’ll do just fine,” he pants, patting his new cock that was rapidly shrinking into a very reasonable, but bulky 16 inches. “Just go to sleep and don’t think too much.” He closes the pizza box, letting the cum soak into the large pizza. He hastily pulls his shorts up and adjusts his new, larger endowment.
“Hmmmm, his musky pants”, I dimly think. “Better start leaking in here. He loves me to leak when I’m soft.”
He gently pats his cockhead and lets it leak all over his sexy, hairy nuts and legs. “The next four years were going to be awesome”, he states confidently. He walks upstairs, where three other men are drinking beer and watching baseball on the TV.
“Pizza’s here,” he says as he places the large, slightly sodden box down on the floor near the middle of the room. The massive load of cum rapidly soaked through the box and onto the carpet. “It’s a bit soggy, but you’ll love the protein.”
Your bully followed you home a couple weeks ago when he saw you walking to your apartment from work. It’s been years since you felt the wrath of Roy in high school but that’s all child’s play these days. He broke up you and your girlfriend back then and made sure you were the laughingstock, cutting off any friends you may have held onto and branding you forever as the fart fag fairy. Jocks mooning you their hairy holes in the hallways was common place, girls wrinkling their noses and laughing too - till you moved away for college, that is and forgot all that in the past.
He made you copy your house key and now, when you get home from work, you know to stick his dinner in the oven and get to work on your dinner… Roy’s sweaty, hairy, smelly hole and pent up work farts. He calls this “the warm up”. When he’s relaxed to his satisfaction you crawl under the kitchen table to suck on his toes and massage his smelly feet while he eats in relaxation and tunes in to sports center on your tv, listening intently for when he needs another beer. He made you break things off with your latest flame but is asking her out on a date for himself this weekend when he saw what a hottie she was. You’re the fart fag fairy after all, her sweet pussy is wasted on you, loser.
As you feel a fart bubble up and flutter your lips connected to his asshole tonight and hear his snoring start up above you, you figure at least you have a safe routine now. No escaping the wrath of Roy for as long as you live, fart fag fairy, no fluttering away for you.
"Yep, he kept insisting on it, and eventually i just gave him what he wanted. Not that I'm complaining"
Michael pondered at the thought. His friend Brian had learned on how to transform others into... pretty much anything he wanted, and ever since then, it's been one story after another that he told him about. From parties where he had gotten a few hookups ending up adding to his now impressive physique, to bets with their human forms put up as the ante. He acted so casual about it, but no matter what, it always surprised him.
"So, what... is he right now? Your socks? Shorts?" Michael tried to guess.
"Nope. Underwear"
"O-oh..." the answer made Michael blush almost instantly. The thought of your entire being compressed into fabric and pressed around someone's crotch. If he had to be honest, he had thought about asking to Brian if he could try that on him, but he had his reservations about it. Still, with each story, these reservarions eroded, and now, hearing once again about someone that asked to be transformed.
"... can i see it?" He asks somewhat sheepishly
"What, Now? We're in the middle of a hike, Michael."
"Yeah, and fairly off-track. Plus you already came here without a shirt, and it's not like anyone else is gonna show up now"
Brian sighed, a smile forming on his lips.
"Fine, fine. You wanna see it that badly? I can give you a peek"
Despite how Brian worded that, what Michael got was more than just a peek, with brian unbuttoning and pulling his shorts down, leaving his legs and, more importantly, his crotch on full display. He saw the white fabric of the underwear enveloping Brian's junk, and for a moment, he saw it squirm for a bit, though he wasn't sure if that was just a trick of his eyes.
"So, like what you see?"
"Definitely"
"Great! Maybe next time, you'll be the one I'm wearing" Brian smirked at his friend's stunned reaction "you're not that great at hiding what you want, you know"
PJ looked above him and all he could see was ass. A hairy ass. A swampy ass. And it was covered in stinking black fabric. How on earth had he ended up here he thought to himself?
It had all started innocently enough when he set off on his road trip a couple of months ago. He had saved some money, filled his car with fuel and was really looking forward to his trip, he needed some time away to rest.
Cut to now, he had just run out of fuel, in the middle of nowhere and he had no money left. At all. He was so annoyed at himself for letting himself get into this situation. Normally he was so careful. He couldn’t even get any signal on his phone. Could this get any worse. There was only one thing for him to do, and that was walk to see if he could find any help.
He had walked about a mile along the deserted road, when he came across a house, set slightly back from the road, with a large driveway. It looked nice, and PJ guessed that he would be able to get help there. So he knocked on the door. He would later realise that, this would turn out to be mistake number one.
A tall man in his mid 30’s answered the door, he was well built with a head of thick brown hair. “Can I help you?” The man asked, looking PJ up and down. PJ felt slightly intimidated, the man was taller and broader than him, and had a deep masculine voice.
“Hey, Emm, I’m PJ, my van ran out of fuel about a mile up the road, and I have no phone signal to call for help, and I was wondering if maybe I could, possibly use your phone please?” PJ blurted out quickly, nervous of the man looking him up and down suspiciously.
The mans expression changed when he heard PJ’s story, his scowl had turned into more of a grin. This made PJ relax a little. “Haha, happens to the best of us buddy, and it’s worse out here because nobody ever travels these roads, why don’t you come on in, i’m Kent.”
The man stepped to the side and allowed PJ to walk through the door. As he walked by he noticed a strong odour of B.O coming from the guy, but he was far too polite to say anything. Plus, the guy was dressed in a t-shirt and old shorts, so maybe he’d been working out or something.
PJ entered the room and it looked like a bit of a batchelor pad to him. There was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and a leather recliner off to the side of the room.
“So where is the phone?” He asked, looking around for any signs of one. Kent laughed and looked smugly at PJ. “Oh, you didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?” Instantly PJ thought he shouldn’t have stepped into the house, as Kent shut the door behind him.
“Look man..” PJ started, trying to back away, looking frantically for a way to escape the room. “I don’t have any money.”
“Who said I want your money man?” Kent laughed, he continued on. “Relax, I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to hang out, play some games, have some company for a while.”
PJ should have felt calmer listening to that. But he didn’t, Kent was saying the right things but he still did sound slightly threatening. But PJ would play along if it could save him from the wilderness outside. “Ok, cool... so Kent, what do you want to do?” He asked.
“Well...” Kent grinned, he had PJ exactly where he wanted him. “I like to bet, and play cards... so how about we make a few bets, play a few rounds and see what happens?” Kent sat down in the recliner and pulled some playing cards out from a drawer.
PJ, at this point was still standing in the middle of the room and Kent nodded to him to sit on the adjacent sofa. He did. “I don’t really have anything to bet...” PJ started. Kent cut him off “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Alright then.”
“Great, I’ll shuffle these cards, we can play red or black, for every card I turn over that you guess the colour of correctly, you win, for every one you don’t I do. Deal?”
“Deal. So, what do you want to bet?”
Kent grinned. Jackpot. “Well how about, if you guess this one right I’ll give you a few litres of fuel from my garage?”
PJ’s eyes lit up, that could be the solution to his problems. Instantly his eyes lit up. Kent noticed. “But if you get it wrong you have to give me all of your clothes.”
PJ was shocked. He wasn’t into any sort of weird stuff. He didn’t really want to agree to that. Kent sat silently, staring him down. PJ considered his options, slowly realising that it was this or waiting for a long time on a deserted country road with hardly any supplies. Plus he had more clothes when he got to the car. “Deal, and I think it’ll be red.”
Kent grinned and flipped the card. It was black. PJ considered running for the door, but decided against it, he’d just end up back at square one.
“Woohoo, get them off loser boy.” Kent grinned, as a red faced and embarrassed PJ stood and removed his clothes slowly. “Hand then over.” PJ handed his clothes to Kent and sat back down feeling the cold leather against his skin. Kent then put his clothes inside a cupboard next to the chair. PJ had nowhere to run now, he had to play along.
“Care to go again?” Kent laughed, sizing up the skinny naked man in his living room. PJ just nodded, but he was starting to get annoyed at this prick taking advantage of him. Who does that to someone when they’re clearly having bad luck?
Kent was in his element. He loved having guys around to bully and torment, and it didn’t happen often seen as he lived int he middle of nowhere. He would make the most of this opportunity. “So, round two, guess correctly and I’ll give you 10 seconds of phone time, guess incorrectly and you have to lie on the floor and suck my toes, deal?”
“20 seconds?” PJ tried to bargain, knowing that he would never be able to do what he needed to in 10.
“5 now.” Kent grinned. “And you can only use the phone when you have at least 30 seconds.”
“Fuck man. Please.” PJ pleaded, looking at Kent who just stared him down. Kent knew that he just had to wait. PJ finally broke. “Fine, deal, red again.” He said grumpily.
The card this time was red. PJ was happy with that, he cheered. Kent knew that to keep the game going PJ needed some wins, so he wasn’t upset. He suggested they bet the same again on the next card. PJ agreed, but he wasn’t so lucky this time.
“Doooown you get toe sucker!” Kent gloated, kicking off his shoes and removing his socks. Immediately a stench like old cheese and sewage filled the room. Kent’s feet were sweat soaked, and frankly totally disgusting. PJ gagged as he lowered himself to the floor, he had to lay on his stomach as Kent kept his feet flat on the floor. “I love a good toe sucking so take your time, and really enjoy what I’ve created. You might have to suck extra hard sometimes to get the harder bits of toe jam off.” Kent laughed.
There was nothing else for it PJ thought. He sighed and started sucking. He gagged. His eyes watered. He almost had to pull away when Kent started wiggling his toes in his mouth. He was sure he had swallowed something unsavoury. But he just needed to get to the end, he was determined to beat this guy now. Kent tapped him on the head and said “Enough for now. Let’s go again.” PJ sat up on the floor.
Kent and PJ made two more bets, PJ won the first and had managed to get 15 seconds of phone time. Kent won the second, and had made PJ put on a tiny pink thong and lick his hairy, hairy armpits. PJ had spent a good 10 minutes licking and sucking Kent’s salty pits, and was worried he would never manage to get the ingrained stench off his face. He needed this to go faster. He wanted to get out of this house of horror fast.
“I want to make a bigger bet.” He announced. “What has to happen for me to get 30 seconds of phone time, AND, my clothes back, AND, the fuel from the garage?” He made eye contact with a still grinning Kent who couldn’t have predicted how well this would go.
“Well...” Kent pretended to consider this, he brought his hand to his face and scratched his chin. “How about this, we don’t play cards for this one. We wrestle. First guy to pin the other for 5 seconds wins.”
PJ considerd the offer. This was interesting. Kent was clearly bigger than him, but PJ reckoned he was bout 10 years younger, and could possibly be quicker and more agile than him. He had to take the chance, right? “Ok, I agree to that.”
Kent’s eyes lit up. Jackpot. He laughed. “Ok, since you’ve agreed to that we need to see what I get if I win. Has to be bigger than what I’ve got so far.” PJ’s face fell, but only slightly, he would win, but he was still nervous to hear what this guy wanted. Kent thought for 30 seconds. “Ok, if I win you stay here for 24 whole hours as my complete, and total bitch. I say jump, you say how high. You do whatever I ask you as long as it’s not illegal and won’t injure you. You serve me and degrade yourself totally until your time is up. Yes?”
PJ really has to consider this. That was a lot. But on the other hand if he won he’d be outta here. He just needed to be confident. Believe in himself. “Deal.” He said to Kent, who rubbed his hands together in delight.
Both men now stood at either end of the room. Kent had stripped to a tight pair of black briefs, which stunk of man smells. PJ stood in a pink thong, his hairless ass cheeks starting to feel the cold.
Kent shouted go and the both ran at one another. PJ at first felt good, he had Kent’s shoulders in a good grip and was trying to push him down to his knees. However quickly Kent wrapped his leg around PJs which sent him tumbling to the floor with Kent on top of him. They rolled around the floor a bit, however it was clear that Kent had the upper hand. He managed to pin PJ, his face above his, looking down as the hope left his eyes. Eyes which were looking up at the delighted face of his new evil overlord.
“Stay still, that’s your first order. If you understand say, yes master.” Kent said, looking at the red faced guy lying below him.
PJ was devastated. He felt himself tearing up from embarrassment. He was just going to have to try and get through this. Through gritted teeth he replied, “yes master.”
Kent grinned smugly, and stood above PJ. He placed a foot either side of his head on the floor. “Fantastic bitchboy. Your 24 hours are starting now, and task one is a great one. Fart smelling.” PJ groaned. This was going to be torture. Kent grinned. This was going to be heaven. “I’ll squat on your face, give you the honour of releasing a fart on it, and then you will kiss my ass as a thank you. We’ll repeat this process till there’s no air left in me. Say yes master if you understand.”
“Yes master.”
Kent laughed. Result. A bitch for him to use. Let’s go. He squatted. Wriggling his ass on PJ’s face to ensure that there was a nose right in his crack. PJ had closed his eyes and just felt two squishy globes descend over his face. They literally smelled of shit. He coughed because the smell was so bad. Like old cabbage, eggs and death. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse.
PPPPPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT
A loud fart blasted onto PJ’s nose as he heard Kent let out a sigh of relief above him. He puckered his lips and kissed the awful fabric that was draped over his face as he heard Kent gloat above him, saying, “Yeah, that’s what I thought bitch.”
Kent stood back up and PJ was relieved at the fresher air getting to his face. This didn’t last long as within seconds his gigantic ass descended again.
PPPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTPPFFFTTTRR
An even louder fart than before blasted out this time. And to make matters worse it stunk even more. PJ once again pursed his lips together and kissed. Kent made another derogatory comment and stood up again.
The third time Kent lowered his ass the fart was silent, but that didn’t make it any less deadly. In fact PJ would have said it was worse, and as Kent stood up he felt really light headed.
Kent continued this torment a few more times, repeating the same process. PJ just lay there and endured it.
“Ok, now for the grand finale bitch.” Kent boomed above PJ. He lowered his boxers revealing his bare, hairy, swampy, stinking, gigantic ass. PJ’s eyes widened in terror, but it was too late. The ass came crashing down onto his face. He could feel the hairs on his cheeks, and the smell was so intense his nostrils were burning.
“Beg me to fart.” Was all Kent said, grinning, laughing, smug. PJ was underneath him, glad he couldn’t see his tears. This was rock bottom. Just get through it.
“Please fart.”
“Needs to be better than that slut monkey.”
“Please fart on my face.”
“Better bimbo.”
“Please master fart on my face, I love to eat your yummy gas.”
“We’ll need to work on that, but it’ll do for now.”
PPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTPTPTFFFF
Kent released the largest, most obnoxious, smelliest fart yer onto PJ’s face. PJ gagged. Kent grinned. Then PJ kissed a bare asshole. This was a new low.
One thing was for sure, PJ would never be making bets again.
Thanks to the person who submitted the photo to inspire this piece of writing. It was fun. :)
*Includes some macrophilia. It's my first time reading or writing it so hope it's decent :)*
"Fuck... take my nasty ass... lose yourself in it!" Scott moaned as he grinded down onto Theos face, smothering the young dom in the unwashed trousers that covered his unwashed ass. Weakened by the twins and now farts from Scott, Theo began to sniff voluntarily, slowly succumbing to the McCall Crack effect. "See Stiles... not even Theo could contain me! The nogitsune is a gift to me, a way to fully be in charge! For it, you were a vessel, whereas I am an equal worthy of weilding its power!" Stiles goes pale as he realises this may be the end, gagging on Derek's ass funk that was slowly dripping down his throat from the dildo. "Liam...my best boy...keep gassing Derek out while I'm upstairs with Theo, try milk another load from him!" Scott encourages Liams continued dominance. "Sure thing Scott, although his loads are getting smaller and smaller, I think he's drying up!" Liam laughs as another fart shakes Derek's immovable body. Scott simply grins as he also farts, pushing Theo into a state of temporary bliss. "All ready to transport to the bedroom! Once he's back, he'll be all mine, finally serving me as he should." Theo gets lifted with ease and is thrown over Scott's shoulder as the alpha walks to the stairs, locking the basement door behind him before making his way to the bedroom.
Theo, now on his knees on Scotts clean carpet, couldn't control his emotions. The few minutes in the McCall Crack were all it took to scramble the young hypno masters mind. Horniness, fear, curiosity, all feelings that Scott invoked with his fully powered McCall Crack. "Okay, Theo... can you resist this crack? If you can avoid lapping that cute tongue of yours up and down my trench, I'll set you free!" Scott laughs as he reveals his bigger and hairier ass. The alpha dom knew Theo would crack, after all the twins slightly programmed his brain, and the nogitsune was now fully powered on the domiance in the basement. Theo slowly edged closer to the massive ass in front of him, the allure of it being un explainable. Less than an hour ago, he was gassing Scott out, having the man eat his farts, but now he would return the favor. "Is this why he's the alpha? Can he truly control all my desires?" Theo pondered as the stench grew with each inch he moved. "Ahhhhh....that's a big one!" Scott roared as he lay on his stomach, unleashing a massive corruption fart towards Theo. The boy took a quick whiff as the heated air blew by his face. Within a few minutes of inhaling the gas, Theo popped a boner without warning. "See? Even your cock wants this!" Scott roars with joy. Theo, now completely scrambled, reaches the sweaty soles of Scott and begins to move between his dangling legs to reach the famous McCall Crack.
"Nah...not so fast! Your gonna work for the crack you little fart addict! Lick your masters feet!" Theo simply sported a confused and disappointed look as he didn't have any desire to taste the unwashed feet of Scott. An enormous roar coming from Scott's hole breaks the silence and blows back the lengths of Theos' hair. The vile scent invaded the nostrils and further took over Theos mind with its dark eggy scent. "That's more like it boy!" Scott giggles as he feels Theos tongue. With that single fart, Theos mind was melted into finding Scott's feet attractive. He took long wet swipes at the slightly yellow sweat stained soles of Scott. This was now just a simple task in his way to Scott's hole, the real prize in his eyes.
"C'mon slut, you want this crack? Beg for a fart!" The alpha moaned as he scrolled on his phone, watching the camera feed from the basement. Theo struggled to breathe as the tight calves of Scott squeezed against his neck. "Plea....please...fa..fart." Theo groans with his face pulsing red. "As you wish my little fart slut. Scott waits a few seconds, watching Liam and Derek carefully through his phone. Then the time comes. He sees Liam slightly tense up and clearly ready to fart. Scott does the same and within a few seconds they both fart simultaneously. Down in the basement, Derek's unwilling body gets pumped by another medusa fart, hardening his cock for the third time today. Upstairs, Scott lossened his calves and allowed Theo to deeply breathe in the alpha sized fart.
"Kiss my thighs Theo! Show me you truely want my ass in your face!" Scott moans as he hardens. Between the feeling of Theo choking in his thighs, and the sight of seeing Derek begin to shoot his load in the basement, the powerful alpha couldn't contain his excitement. "Take that fart! Deep whiff boy!" Theo followed the instructions and took the loudest breathe possible as he kissed the thick thighs. As he tried to handle the fart and recover from its thick nature, Theo feels the legs start to contract. With his head moving, the smell and heat intensifies. At any other time, Theo would be horrified and angry that Scott had this power over him and that he'd be ear deep in the ass of an alpha. But now he was excited to enter the deep trench of alpha stench as the McCall Crack had scrambled his desires with ease. "How's that you little sniffer? Like the scent of my alpha crack?" Scott taunts as he plants Theos face directly at the bottom of his cheeks. The pale face of the destroyed sub rested perfectly in place, his chin slightly pushing the cheeks apart and allowing his exposed nose to line up with the runway like trench. "It's perfect! May I have a.." Theos request for a fart is quickly cut off as erupts a few inches from his face. "Course you can fart slut...imma expect all that stink to be vacuumed up by your nose!" Like a wild animal, Theo takes the words to heart and pushes forward to seal his nose on the alpha hole. With the fart still going, the hungry fart addict sniffed the gas while lining his nostrils to perfectly, earning a rare moan from Scott. The alphas eyes lined up as he realised his plan was almost complete. After all this preparing and powering up, he was about to hypnotize the master hypno dom. All Theo had to do was wrap his lips around the sticky entrance and there would be no turning back.
"So boy....ahh bet that one stinks...how about....damn these are just flowing out.... how about you show me you truely know your place? Make out with my hole!" Scott looks back and pulls the sweat drenched face from the depths of his crack. Theo, still loudly inhaling the residue air from the two rapid farts, locks eyes with his new master. Slowly going down, he maintains eye contact with Scott as his tongue gently wets the entrance of the hellish hole. "Keep...fuck...keep going!" Scott moans, for the first time in the whole session from pure ecstasy and not just from power. His moans grow as Theo's wet tongue pentrates his hole and a fart slips out and around. Instead of stopping from disgust, Theo goes deeper and pleasure his alphas farting whole, flicking his tongue around inside to trigger involuntary farts. The feeling sends shiver down Scotts spine and he begins to harden. Reaching down to stroke his boner, he flips his phone onto the floor beside the bed with the camera footage still rolling. "Sto...stop...im going to cum!" Scott laughs as he never thought of having the ignorant Theo eating him out willingly. Unfortunately, the spell would soon be broken as Theo takes a quick break for air and sees the phone.
"Huh? Why is Derek sniffing Liam? And why is Stiles gagged? Fuck...no...you got me...let me go!!" Theo roars as he snaps out and tries to overpower the thick thighs and cheeks of Scott. "Not a chance! You are such a good little fart slut and I don't think anyone is as good at licking my hole!" Scott reaches back and pushes the head down with extreme force. Still being lined up from the rimming, Theo's lips meet the gassy hole of Scott. "Open up Theo!! It's much easier for you if you just accept my gifts!" Theo battles the urge to respond, having flashbacks to when Stiles had done this to him just over a year ago. Instead, he sniffed, but even this was dangerous as farts erupted every few seconds. Some short and quick, easy to avoid, others long and drawn out to catch him lacking. After ten minutes of simply gassing him, Scott had decided to use one of his many new supernatural abilities.
"Uh...noo...stop" Theo groaned as the beefy hand held his face down, now with his nostrils aligned with the hole. "Good luck trying to close your nostrils boy!" Scott laughed. The struggle takes all the energy left in Theo, leaving him no choice but to breathe despite Scott farting. "Enjoy one of my many new talents!" As Scott spoke, Theo felt as tho he was shrinking, and before he knew what was happening he was barely a 6 inchestall, being hugged by the hairy ass of Scott. Of course, this was simply mental manipulation, similar to that the nogitsune demonstrated to Scott on the night they combined. However, to Theo, it felt real. He gazed up and around the deep grand canyon esque crack as Scotrw cheeks acted like tall mountains with the light shining above and illuminating the landscape. Tears began to drip from his eyes as he felt like his head could simply slip into Scott's hole with no effort. Then, a fart erupts. What was actually the smallest of farts made Theo feel as tho he was in a hurricane as the stinkbomb consumed his body.
"You wanna be eaten by my hole or do you want to be free? Lock lips with my hole and accept your place!" Scott laughs as he feels the real tears of Theo drip onto his cheeks. Theo, with no way to break out of the enhanced illusion of the nogitsune, crawled on the oversized cheeks, using the sweaty hairs to grip his way to the hole. In reality he has simply pushing his lips out, slowly but surely onto Scott's hole. Finally, his small body reaches the now massive seeming tench, each rumble feeling like an earth quake. Gently, Theo kneels down onto the slimy textured crack and prepares to lean down to plant a kiss. As he does so, Scott shakes his hips and causes his prey to fall down and kiss involuntarily, gripping the dirty rim as he tries not to fall in. Theos lips part, and Scott laughs while flexing his glutes. Feeling still like an ant, Theo is terrified of being crushed as his world goes black with the cheeks slowly weighing around his insignificant body. "Want to be saved, kiss it!!" Scott roars, seemingly sounding like a god echoing in the tight area. A terrified Theo plants the wettest of kisses on the hole and receives a throat rumbling fart to swallow.
The vile sewage taste snaps him out of the illusion, and he comes to, fully sized, swallowing a fart from Scott. "Aha...got you! Now you'll forever be my little fart slut!" Theo tears up at the words and leans back to try and complain, but mid sentence his mind succumbs to the total corruption. "You'll never suceed... I'll find a way to...to...to be a good fart sniffer for you sir!" Scott laughs at the feeble attempts of resistance as Theo no longer has control. He dives right back into the hairy crack and pulls Scott further back to smother him. "That's right boy... be a good fart sniffer! Everyone is gone and now not even your hypno can help them! Tomorrow is gonna be the dawn of a new age. Imma have Danny over for some fun as every inch of me is worshipped by my six lustful sub betas!" Scott cums at the thought of his glorious victory, releasing his biggest fart yet onto the now smothered Theo who sniffs it up before passing out.
Not even bothering to put clothes on, Scott picks up the unconscious and wrecked body of Theo and carries him to the basement, flacid erecrion still dripping. Stiles has hope that Theo had turned the tide on Scott and that they'd all be free, unfortunately his hope is crushed as Theo's body lands on the floor, nose clearly dirtied from ass sweat and grime with his face having occasional ass hairs. "The last of you pathetic betas has fallen! I hope you all finally realize that I AM the ALPHA!" Stiles tries to object, but simply gags on the Derek flavored dildo. "Hey Liam! Wanna see Theo take a fart instead of you for a change?" Scott asks, appealing to Liams desires. "Sure thing Scott!" The young stink bomb said as he farted onto Derek's face yet again. Scott squated down over the unconscious face until he felt the light breathe hit his hole. As his stomach rumbled, he stared at Stiles, winking as the fart erupted onto the helpless victim. Stiles hardened at the sight, finally realizing Scott had complete control over all of them, just as he had promised. He then walked over to Derek and Liam. Without a word, he pushed Derek in deep, penetrativing Liams hole with the large nose while simultaneously reaching for and stroking Derek's involuntary boner. "And fart my loyal beta!" Scott whispered into Liams ear. Liam farted as Derek was pushed deep into the rumbling hole. The fart ended and Liam came from the feeling of a nose deep in his ass, Derek also came from Liams fart and Scott's simultaneous strokes. Derek falls from the kneeling position and lands unconscious. "Fuck that stinks!" Scott remarks as he gets a whiff of what Derek had been suffering for weeks now.
"Before I go, let's mix things up a little!" Scott sports an evil grin as he picks up Theos limp body and carries it over to Liams rear end. Stiles can't help but get turned on from the sight of Scott setting Theo into the medusa position. "Don't think I've forgotten you!" Scott smirks at Stiles. The helpless gagged boy tries to shuffle away but easily gets handled by the alpha. He is laid down on his back, almost a foot from Theos ass. He closes his eyes out of fear but reopens them a few moments later as he hears struggling . The defenseless sub screams onto the dildo as he sees Derek's exposed and unkempt ass crack in the air above him. Scott drops the older man onto Stiles's face, the deep dirty hole landing on his nose. Derek's meaty legs spread over Stiles abdominal area as Scott slowly rolls Derek's body flat, his head banding against Theos lower back. A few minutes of struggle follow, but before long, Scott manages to lift Theo slightly and slide Derek's face into position under the hypnohole. "And...finished!" Scott almost cums at the sight. Liam standing still with a little fence for food and drink beside him. Theo kneeling unconscious in the gassy hole. Derek laying unconscious under the hypno hole while being spread out, ass first on his boyfriend Stiles face. When Theo wakes up he will be ordered to hypno Derek into a gassy frenzy to light up stiles face. Meanwhile Theo would be held captive in the medusa. Scott busted another load as he pictured the sheer amount of domiance to come. His eyes roll back and as he arrives he mouths the words he could now back up...
So I always wanted to see more to this story but I never did so I guess I’ll just do it myself.
Eddie sat his hairy ass back on Johnny’s face and ripped another huge fart. “Come on boy. Eat my ass. It’s all sweaty and itchy. Let me feel that tongue soothe my nasty hole” Eddie smothered the slave’s face until he couldn’t breathe, then yelled “Either you eat my ass or you die under it. Your choice.” Johnny started to lick and suck on Eddie’s hairy hole while Eddie started wiggling and pushing back against his tongue, farting wetly while he started to stroke his 7 inch dick. “Oh yeah, that’s a good boy. Keep going. Mmm. Fuck!” Prrrrrrttttttt Fssssssssshhhhhh Eddie smothered poor Johnny’s head, farting and getting ate deeply, pushing his hole into the slave’s mouth until he came. When he came though, he ended up pushing out the tip of thick turd. “Oh damn! Disturbs to do that.” He started to get up, unsure of what rules Raul might have and then thought better of it. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Open up your mouth slave boy” he pushed until the boy’s mouth was full, then cut off the huge turd, dropping the first bit in Johnny’s mouth. “Chew and swallow, then I’ll let you breathe” he said as he sat and squashed Johnny’s face once again. Johnny was forced to chew up the nasty shit. It was disgusting and he could taste bits of corn and nuts. He finished swallowing and Eddie let out a big fart around the dump that was still in his hairy ass right as Raul came back. “I see you’re enjoying my fart slave. How’s he doing? He sucking up all your gas for you?” Raul talked to his friend while sitting his naked hairy ass on Johnny’s stomach and ripped a giant fart. FPRPprfprfprpfrFPRFPRFRFPRPprfprfprpfrFPRFPRFRPPFRFPRFPRPRPFRPRPFRPFRPFRPFRPFRPRFPFRPPPFRFPRFPRPRPFRPRPFRPFRPFRPFRPFRPRFPFRP “He’s doing all right. I wish I could push more but I really gotta take a big shit to be honest” Eddie said, farting one more time before getting up. “Oh, well it looks like you already let a bit out” looking at the streaks around Johnny’s mouth. “Sorry about that man. I was just pushing and it just kind to came out” Raul smirked down at Johnny, saying “Oh it’s fine, just kept that to a minimum. I’m trying to train him to take everything out of my fat, hairy ass anyway and it’d be awesome to watch him choke on one of your big shits. I just want to be the first to feed him” Eddie made his way to the bathroom and started to fill the toilet with his giant dump with the door open. “That being said, don’t bother to wipe. You can just use his tongue” Raul yelled to Eddie over the loud farts and grunting coming from the hairy man.
'Oh yeh, this has done it' I thought as I finished the last slice of pizza. Extra meat and extra cheese, the greasier the better. This was on top of of the full fry up I'd had for breakfast. The cabbage stew for lunch. Topped off with a protein shake. Not that I'd been to the gym today, that wasn't the point. I'd just had one, on top of all that heavy food, to get myself nice and gassy. My stomach was bloated with gas and it was starting to bubble away inside.
I have been planning this day for a while now. Ever since I worked out my friend, Joel, had a fart fetish. At first I'd thought it was just the usual, gay guy fancying his straight best friend. I didn't mind, he was free to lust after my ass. Nothing would happen, but he was free to look. But I realised he liked it more than just to look at. I'm a gassy guy and my blasts can clear a room, but not Joel. He'd always make a comment on them. Hed sit on the floor next to me, said it was "more comfortable". No amount of farts would shift him. He'd just get closer through the night.
Now he'd never admit it to me, he was too shy. I felt bad for the guy. He didn't have much luck with pulling guys, maybe his fetish made it hard. So I'd decided to help him out. I planned a day of food that I knew would aggravate my stomach, get me all gassed up, and invited Joel over to watch a film.
He arrived on time, which was great because I could not hold these in for much longer. As he sat down in his usual spot on the floor I went to the TV and turned it on, making sure to silently release a fart and crop dust him as I walked past. He didn't say anything but I caught him staring at my ass as I passed. So on the way back to the sofa I turned and stood in front of him as I loaded Netflix, letting him get a good view.
Releasing another small silent fart, only this time in his face, I looked down. "Do you need anything?"
"No...no...I'm good. Shall we start the film?"
I sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed play. The film hadn't been going for more than 5mins when I let out an enormous fart.
PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB
After holding them in and only releasing the silent wisps so far, this one had erupted out. More than I'd planned.
"That was a big one!" Joel joked, laughing a little. "Gassy today? Thought I smelt one when you got up"
"Yeh, my stomach is rough. Sorry about that"
"It's fine. You know it doesn't bother me".
The smell of the fart lingered, it had a meaty scent, one of my better ones.
But I was just getting going. I let out a couple more silent ones to really fill the room. Letting Joel stew in my fumes. Never once saying anything. Happily sitting there, watching the film he'd say of course, but still he was inhaling pure methane. I knew my suspicions were right, no one else would have stayed in the room, let alone sit so close to the source.
It was time to push it. I let out a triple assault.
Prrrrbbbb
Pbbbbtttt
PPPBBTTT
Laughing as I unloaded I began wafting the air. "Oh man, they stink! Here, breathe through this", and I handed him a cushion of the other end of the couch.
Joel took it, faked using it as a mask for a second, then just gave me his innocent smile and placed it behind him. "Ha, thanks, but I'm fine, I'm used to your butt bombs".
Damn this guy loves my gas. Needed to crack him before I eventually ran out. I wanted him to openly embrace it, not just sneak sniffs from the side. I decided to give him a little treat to tide him over, until he was ready to open up.
The farts were now putrid, even for me and I'm used to my own flavour. The milk from the protein shake was really kicking in. But I was able to let out some quiet wet ones. I moved the cushion next to me down a bit so half of it was under my ass. Then for 10mins released a constant stream of silent farts on to it.
Casually I pulled it out and passed it to Joel, need another cushion? I could feel how warm it was from the farts and being flattened under my big ass.
Joel looked like he was going to decline it, then the smell must have hit him. Could have sworn his eyes glazed over, he took it and placed it behind his head but turning so his face was pressed up against the scented fabric. He wasn't even facing the film now.
I watched as huffed on the cushion, away in his own little world. The first cushion he had behind his back was pulled out and placed over his crotch to cover, I assume, evidence he was pitching a tent. I was thrilled.
"Hey, Joel, I have a gift for you"
"What is..." Joel began before being interrupted as I slid down the sofa and turned so his face was mms from my hole
PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB
My fart exploded in his face. I swear it blew his hair.
Joel looked shocked. "Damn, man, what you do that for?"
"It was a gift, I knew you'd like it"
"I don't like your farts"
"Sure you do! You're always sitting next to me, despite how gassy I am. Tonight I have been actively butt bombing this room and you have been vaccuming them all up. Plus you have been glued to a literal fart cushion for 10mins. Mate I paused the film and you never noticed!"
It was quite cute to see him get all flustered. He went a little red too.
"I don't...I just don't mind..."
"Don't worry about it" I said. "It doesn't bother me. I mean I've had no issue when you walked behind me on the stairs so you can stare at my fat ass, though I suppose you were back there sniffing it secretly. I don't mind when you make jokes about it. We're friends, it's just fun for me, and something you really want."
Joel didn't say anything, I may have doubted my instinct had it not been for one fact. He still hadn't moved. My ass remained hovering inches from his face.
"Honestly, just admit..."
Prrrbbb
"...you have..."
Pffftttt
"...a fart fetish".
PPRRRRRRPPPBBBBB
With each toxic blast Joel closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. When the last fart ended he looked up at me. Eyes watering. Clearly conflicted to unload his biggest secret. As seconds ticked like an eternity, the silence lingering along with the smell of my farts in the air, Joel eventually reached for his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. I could see it pressed hard against the waistband of his jeans. That moment of pleasure must have tipped him over, he looked at my ass and whispered, "I have a fart fetish". And with that he dove in, sniffing the back of my joggers and getting his nose up in my crack. "Thank you!"
I lay there, proud of myself as Joel pigged out. "You're welcome...
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The fifteen-minute walk to Elliott Schmidt’s house was just long enough to make Mason Zimmerman question the legitimacy of using a car. But it was a nice summer day and the eighteen-year-old enjoyed taking the extra time to listen to his music. He preferred to make the trip to his best friend’s house by foot - it was an excuse to listen to more music on his AirPods while he strolled through the scenic suburban streets. After two fast-paced rock songs, Mason was relieved to find himself in front of the Schmidt household. The light cinnamon shade of the house provided a rustic feel that the other estates on the block lacked.
The text message arrived at the very second that Mason Zimmerman rang the doorbell. Mason pulled out his phone and frowned at the text from his friend Elliott.
“Dude, jazz band practice is running late. I’ll be at my house in 20.”
“So now he decides to text me,” Mason grunted with a roll of his eyes. It was typical behavior though. Elliott had told him all about how strict the new band conductor was at their school. He just wished his friend had let him know before he walked a mile to get here. Putting his hands in his pockets, Mason debated if he should just turn around and go home or wait outside the Schimdt’s house for Elliott to come back. Suddenly, the front door swung open in front of him.
The booming resonance of the Schmidt family patriarch filled the air. “Oh, hello Mason,” he said, his face not conveying much emotion. Dressed in a white dress shirt and a pair of dark brown khakis, his broad yet pudgy figure filled most of the doorway. His long black tie swung with his movements, bouncing over his round yet flabby pectorals and his potbelly. There were dark circles under his eyes and his shirt was a little crinkled at parts. “How are you?” he asked feigning a smile.
“Hey, I’m doing good Mr. Schmidt,” Mason replied warmly. “Sorry, Elliott just texted me and said that jazz band practice will be done in a half-hour.”
“Oh, is that where he’s at today?” Mr. Schmidt said, scratching at his receding widow’s peak. “I can never keep track of what that boy is up to each day.” That was definitely true. Not even Mason could keep up with his best friend’s inconsistent schedule. With jazz band and his computer science club, Elliott always had some event to go to every few days. “You could stay here until he gets back if you want,” Mr. Schmidt offered.
“Oh yeah, that’d be awesome,” Mason replied. This was a fairly normal occurrence considering how often he was over. “Thanks,” he made sure to add after a silent five second pause. Mr. Schmidt was certainly a nice guy after you got to know him, but he still could be a bit of a hardass. Despite knowing him for a few years since he and Elliott met in freshman year, Mason was still a little daunted by his father. There had been a recent situation where Mr. Schmidt had threatened to ban Mason from coming over ever again due to a rowdy night of late-night gaming a few weeks ago. Ever since then, he’d made sure to tread lightly to not provoke the angry giant once more. Although the ice had been broken since then, Mr. Schmidt’s penetrating leer still prompted Mason to focus on being polite.
Feeling a loud set of vibrations emanating in his pocket, Mr. Schmidt scooped out his phone and grimaced at it. “I’ve gotta take this,” he sighed. “Help yourself to anything you want in the fridge.”
“Okay, awesome. Thank you!” Mason replied courteously. Since he was over all the time, Mr. Schmidt practically treated him like a second son. That was, if Mason didn’t get on his bad side.
“Don’t mention it, bud. Make yourself at home,” Mr. Schmidt replied, now with that stoic expression back on his face.
That was a pretty good interaction, Mason thought. He’d even been called “bud.”
Not breaking eye contact from his phone, the short, disgruntled man walked away and began promptly dialing up a number. Mason couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Schmidt’s body had a noticeable bounce to it when he moved, especially the way his love handles protruded from his shirt and the way his paunchy rump bounced up and down with his footsteps. Mason would never judge his friend’s father for his weight gain, but ever since he’d gotten a promotion to be a manager for his job, it’d become increasingly noticeable. Over the course of a few months, Mr. Schmidt must’ve gained around sixty pounds as a result of working weird hours and eating out, often at fast food and local diners. Mason sympathized, but he knew it wasn’t his place to say anything. It wasn’t like he knew a thing about being a general manager for a bunch of retail stores across the whole metro area anyway.
Mason migrated over to the granite kitchen island, which separated the kitchen from the living room. The living room also had quite a nice flatscreen television in their living room. If Mason and Elliott weren’t downstairs playing videogames in Elliott’s room till the early morning hours, they were up here. Mason plopped the drawstring bag that held his gaming laptop down on the cushiony couch like he had thousands of times before and made his way to the kitchen, hungry for a quick snack to tide him over while he waited.
Opening the fridge, Mason noticed that it was stocked full of food! Almost every square inch of it was occupied by some kind of wrapped up meat, vegetable, or tupperware containers with meals inside. That was so odd. He visited the house every other day and usually the fridge was pretty scarce - mostly just filled with leftovers or various snacks. It seemed like an absurd amount of food for only Elliott and his father. Initially daunted by the unusual display, Mason finally landed on a plastic bag that contained what appeared to be a cold turkey and cheese sandwich. Noticing two other identical bags filled with it behind it, Mason figured Mr. Schmidt wouldn’t mind. He ate so much of their food anyway. He was over so often that he was practically Elliott’s twin.
Mason glided over to the living room table, plopping down on their couch in front of the tv, which was playing commercials. Placing the plate with his sandwich down on the ottoman in front of him and looked to either side of him, but the tv remote was nowhere in sight. “Crud,” Mason huffed as he begrudgingly stood back up and began to search through the couch cushions for it. As he did, he was treated to the sound of Mr. Schmidt’s flustered conversation in the other room.
“Yes, I understand your concerns Mr. Brafford. Well, every store needs quarterly audits and the store in Maple Heights is up next...Why is that? I…uh….I dunno, man, but like…I’m only the messenger ...Uh-huh…Yes….yes I know it’s very umm…in…inopportune. Ah jeez, what were we talking about again?”
A wave of second-hand embarrassment washed over Mason. It was difficult to hear how stressed and exhausted Mr. Schmidt sounded. Usually, he was a very composed individual, but ever since his new promotion, he’d seemed much more disheveled and fatigued. Mason couldn’t blame him. Having to travel to places across the metro and answer phone calls all day didn’t seem ideal.
Suddenly, the sonorous bass of a sports announcer’s voice filled the air. Mason spun around and grimaced. “Ugh. Not football,” he grunted as he looked at the pixelated screen, which showcased players of two different teams assembled across the field. Mason checked for the remote, but it was nowhere to be seen. Scouring all of the adjacent tables and reaching into the cracks of the leather cushions turned up nothing. Football, and most sports for that matter, bored him to no end. It just seemed like a legion of huge, spandex-clad men assaulting each other, and millions of people around the country were obsessed with it for some reason. And now he was forced to listen to the rowdy announcer yell about some stupid play that a guy had made. Mason begrudgingly pulled himself from his seat and crouched down to look under the couch, but all he found was dust. In the distance, he could still hear Mr. Schmidt’s weary voice.
“What’s come over me? Sheesh, I don’t know, man. I just uh…I think I haven’t had lunch is all….Yep….Yep I know…I promise to get back to you in the hour. I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m terribly sorry. Something…like came over me, I swear…man. I mean-thank you so much sir.”
Mason stood back up, fruitless in his search so he decided to check the surrounding tables on either side of the couch, mostly as a distraction from listening to Mr. Schmidt’s verbal struggle. The announcer’s shrill voice filled the room as he revamped his energy to boisterously narrate the next play of the game, making it harder for the young man to zone it out. Glancing back down at the gray sofa, Mason still could not find any trace of the elusive tv remote. However, something else caught his eye. Just below his chin, he noticed a long black thread protruding from the center of his clavicle. That was weird. The long, spindly fiber wasn’t even the same color as his light green-colored shirt.
“Owch!” Mason cried as he plucked at it, only to find that the thread had actually been a long black chest hair. Puberty was weird, but this was even weirder. He had blonde hair, but maybe mens’ chest hair was darker than their head-hair or something. That seemed right. He’d probably heard that in health class or something.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, kid?” came Mr. Schmidt’s familiar voice.
“Ah, just the tv remote-.” Mason stopped himself as he looked at Mr. Schmidt. The forty-eight-year-old’s look of dishevelment was still there and his shirt was still wrinkled, but for some reason he was wearing….a backward black cap? It seemed so out of place on an older man like Mr. Schmidt, but he didn't seem to care. “What’s with the hat?” Mason asked after a few wordless seconds.
“I figured I’d wear it to remind me of my high school days,” Mr. Schmidt replied.
“Oh nice,” Mason answered. In the six years that he’d known him, this was the first time that Mr. Schmidt had even mentioned high school.
“This job has been so much more than I asked for,” Mr. Schmidt confided as he sidled over to the fridge and swung open the door, revealing his dress shirt was only tucked in a few places on his back. Mr. Schmidt continued, seemingly eager to vent. “I swear, I’m running around town every single day, trying to keep all these stores in line.” He grabbed a half-gallon of milk and without hesitating, he twisted the cap off and brought the bottle to his lips, taking large gulps before pulling it away with a noisy exhale. A few stray drops even dripped from his mouth and trickled onto the floor, nearly falling onto his shirt.
Mason was aghast. He’d never seen Mr. Schmidt act so casual before. It was so off-putting, like he was about to snap back to his stoic self and pull a “gotcha” moment. Mr. Schmidt always yelled at Elliott and Mason when they left a mess in the kitchen from their late-night snacks. But today he didn’t seem to care. The dark rings around his eyes said it all.
“Man, that’s heckin’ loud,” Mr. Schmidt said as he glanced over at the tv which was assaulting them with the announcer’s loud voice. He’d always had a habit of not cussing and even through the strenuous day he appeared to be having, he did not break that habit. As he put the container of milk back in the fridge, he wiped a stray droplet from his mouth before spinning back to snatch the remote sitting on the kitchen table and lowered the volume. So that’s where the damn thing was.
All of a sudden, Mason felt another tickle on his chest. This time when he glanced down, he froze. There was an unmissable black patch of hair. It wasn’t very large, but it was certainly noticeable. The wiry sable follicles dangled over the hem of his green shirt. A brief tug indicated that the patch was very much attached to him. Cautiously, he ran his hand through the individual fibers and watched how they bent like blades of grass.
“What on earth are you doin’ over there, kid?” Mr. Schmidt asked, now holding a container full of food.
“My chest. It…it has hair,” was all Mason said as he craned his neck back up and realized Mr. Schmidt seemed taller than him for some reason. That was different. Usually the two of them were around the same height.
“Yes it does,” Mr. Schmidt replied with a perplexed and indifferent expression before walking over to the kitchen cabinet.
“No…I’m not s…supposed to have chest hair,” Mason said before squirming. A wave of itchiness spread across his torso and he swore he could feel more hairs emerge.
“Sure you are!” Mr. Schmidt loudly assured, the tone of his loud voice carried across the whole kitchen and living room. He grabbed a plate from the cabinet and placed it down. With his back still turned to Mason, he unloaded his food onto the plate with a fork and casually continued. “Getting a hairy chest is just a natural part of life! I’ve always trimmed mine though.”
“No, I’ve never been hairy,” Mason insisted as the itchy feeling was mounting across his slender torso.
Mr. Schmidt didn’t respond. He was too busy scooping the pieces of rice, chicken, and broccoli out of the container and onto his plate. Mr. Schmidt’s black cap taunted Mason - the object looked so out of place on his friend’s imperial father. Even more strange was the fact that his dress shirt seemed a little tight. It certainly didn’t complement his unsightly back fat. As Mason happened to be staring intently at his friend’s dad, he swore he saw the man rise taller by a few inches. Mason shook his head, figuring he must’ve been seeing things. Mr. Schmidt didn’t seem to notice as he plopped his plate in the black microwave and started a timer for his food. The paunchy man spun back around and only confirmed Mason’s suspicions: he had grown a few inches. But that was an absurd thought. People didn’t just get taller, especially not when they were forty-eight years old.
As Mr. Schmidt walked closer to Mason, the young man was relieved. It had only been an illusion and the two were still the same height. What a relief. But for some reason, Mason noticed that his clothes felt a little…tighter. To his dismay, he noticed that his patch of chest fuzz had not got away. In fact, it seemed even more prominent.
Mr. Schmidt had an uncharacteristically casual swagger as he snatched a water bottle off the table. “So have ya thought about where you're gonna go for college?” he asked before taking a sip.
“Oh, um, not really,” Mason admitted while he subconsciously scratched his chest as more hairs spread down his skinny torso. He hadn’t even applied for colleges yet. Neither had Elliott. The two knew they were probably gonna end up going to the same university anyway. It wasn’t like they had any strong opinions about any of them.
“Have ya thought about Michigan? The Wolverines are kickin' butt this season!” Mr. Schmidt said. He leaned against the table and Mason swore he shot up another inch taller. Even his typically round potbelly seemed less pronounced - its curvature still remained, but its circumference had undoubtedly dwindled. “Nebraska’s also got a great program. So does Minnesota, Notre Dame, Ohio…”
“Program?” Mason asked. “Like for math or science or-”
“No, for football ya dunderhead!” Mr. Schmidt exclaimed, punctuating his comment with a roaring guffaw that ended in a goofy-sounding “huh-huh-huh” before he coughed to correct it. His eyes were wide, like he was surprised he’d sounded so silly. “Anyway,” he said, regaining his composure, “I think you should really check out the football programs at any of those places. That’s what I tell Elliott all the time!”
Mason couldn’t believe his ears. In the six years he’d known him, Elliott’s father had never once conveyed an interest in football. And neither he nor Elliott had ever conveyed any interest in the sport. Before he could interject, the microwave’s timer went off.
DING! DING! DING!
“Freakin’ finally,” Mr. Schmidt said, maintaining his lax attitude as he swiftly glided over to the machine. Mason was just flabbergasted. He’d never seen the man act so…chill. Not to mention that he was looking slimmer by the minute. Mason didn’t know that the kitchen lighting could make someone look that much skinnier…or taller? The microwave released a brief wave of steam as the older man swung the door open and promptly reached inside.
“Don’t burn yourself!” Mason impulsively exclaimed.
It was already too late as Mr. Schmidt carelessly grabbed the plate. “Ow, ow, ow,” he muttered as he picked it up before rapidly setting it down on the kitchen counter, steam still brewing from the ceramic plate and his appetizing lunch.
“What did I just tell you?” Mason scolded before clamping a hand over his mouth. Why was he talking like this?
“No I’m not, man,” Mr. Schmidt replied casually. His pronunciation of the word “man” sounded extra forced, like he was trying to relate to teenagers, but he didn’t seem to care. “You just gotta be quick with your hands like me,” he gloated before grabbing the plate once more and hustling it over to the granite countertop. “Easy as pie.”
“Uh-huh,” Mason replied, unsure how to reply. As he watched the forty-eight-year-old sit down at the stool next to him to eat his lunch, there was no denying that he had gotten taller. And skinnier too. Even the jowls on the sides of his mouth had faded and his neck seemed skinnier than before.
“Oh word, this is the Patriots-Cowboys game from last night!” Mr. Schmidt erupted before taking his first bite. He snatched the remote and turned the volume back up. Mason just wordlessly watched as the man was instantly glued to the tv, lingering on every word the raucous announcer bellowed. Upon closer inspection, Mr. Schmidt’s shirt was still a ruffled mess, but there was no doubt that his body was not filling his shirt up as much as before.
A low rumble in Mason’s belly reminded him that he was also starving, so he decided to dig into the sandwich sitting next to him on the counter. The sense of unease had not left him though, so as he started eating, he took out his phone and texted Elliott:
Dude, your dad is being super weird. Since when does he like football? He’s literally watching a game right now and talking to me about college football. Are you almost home?
Noshing away on his sandwich, Mason decided to scroll through social media for the next few minutes until Elliott’s reply finally came through:
Omg weird. Practice just got out tho, I’ll see ya in like 10 mins dude.
Finally some normality, Mason thought before taking the final bite of his small sandwich.
RIIIIPPPP!
Mason jumped and nearly threw his phone across the table. His t-shirt had torn somehow and he could feel the faint breeze of air conditioning tickle his newly exposed chest. A black forest of hair greeted him as he glanced down at his upper body. Not only that, but his pectorals had grown…fuller? They had an irrefutable roundness to them, only accentuated by the mass of black hair that was even visible through his tight green t-shirt! As Mason tensely breathed, he was horrified to see his pecs do the same.
PING! PING!
Confused by the additional noise, Mason perked up to see that the top two buttons to Mr. Schmidt’s dress shirt had popped open. “Ah, that’s better,” Mr. Schmidt sighed. Just like Mason, his pecs were now on display, only his looked more strange. They also had an odd rectangular shape to them, like they were being stretched out, and unlike Mason’s, they were completely devoid of hair. “It’s nice to have the collar open, huh Mason?” Mr. Schmidt said with a smirk on his face.
“I’m not supposed to look like this,” Mason sulked.
“Like what?”
“I’m not supposed to be hairy,” Mason muttered weakly. However, just as he finished his sentence, a rapid wave of hair growth radiated across his chest in record speed. The black hairs multiplied into the millions, covering every area of his torso ranging from his shoulders to his back to the bottom of his stomach. Mason’s t-shirt, once light green, had now taken on a darker complexion due to the carpet of hair that now coated his torso. It clung tightly to his hairy, slender chest and its torn collar allowed a fair amount of the spindly hairs to be on full display.
“Sheesh, you aren’t kidding! You really are a hairy guy, Mason!” Mr. Schmidt said as he stood up from his chair, glancing at the black bush that hung just below Mason’s chin. With his black tie now undone, the forty-eight-year old’s hairless clavicle taunted him with its modesty. Mr. Schmidt’s pecs jiggled when he walked, causing Mason to grow more confused. Mason averted his gaze and looked down at his hairy self. He looked like a hairy freak! And to make matters worse, his stomach even looked a little bloated. It also had an irrefutable fullness to it. “Don’t feel bad about it though,” Mr. Schmidt continued as he placed his plate in the sink. “Getting hair in other places is just a natural part of life.” he said as he turned back around.
An influx of dark hairs curled out over Mason’s hands and gradually crept up his forearms. “Yeah but I don’t-”
“Ah, shoot, I’ve gotta get back to work,” Mr. Schmidt interrupted as he looked at his phone, holding it out a few inches from his face the way older people did. He then placed it down and rebuttoned his shirt buttons, which rewarded him by constricting his rectangular pecs. Surprisingly enough, they withheld some firmness beneath their flab. Luckily, the buttons held together, allowing Mr. Schmidt to fix his tie.
As Mason took some more time to scroll through his phone and figure out what was happening to him, he found that it was harder to click on things. A quick Google search on sudden hair growth turned up nothing substantial so he turned to social media, however he found that he had to jam his thumb into the screen to click through snapchats his friends had sent. The new dark hair on the back of Mason’s fingers taunted him, although it was nothing compared to the thick carpets of hair that had covered his skinny forearms. Frustratingly enough, Mason found that his phone was slowing down until eventually, his social media feed wouldn’t even refresh no matter how hard he tried. After a few seconds, Mason gave up with an infuriated huff and powered down his phone to restart. When he glanced back up, he noticed that Mr. Schmidt was still fumbling over his tie.
“You having trouble over there?” Mason asked, trying not to laugh at Mr. Schmidt’s tangled tie.
“Yeah, a little,” the older man said, changing his flummoxed expression to a feigned grin. He aggressively yanked on the round knot at the top of his tie. No amount of effort would rectify that pitiful Windsor knot.
“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Mason cried out as he stood up and instinctively walked closer.
Mr. Schmidt’s face turned a crimson red. It was rare to see the stoic man look so embarrassed and vulnerable. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what’s come over me. This used to be so much easier. I just-”
“It’s alright,” Mason comforted, noticing the clear duress on the guy’s face. The poor guy must’ve been really pushed to his limit mentally if he couldn’t even tie his tie correctly. “Let’s just try and redo the whole thing,” he suggested. Luckily, Mason had some unlikely expertise in this field. The junior-scientist conventions he and Elliott had attended ever since middle school had taught him how to seamlessly tie a tie.
“Yeah, yeah I think that’s best,” Mr. Schmidt agreed, before promptly obeying. He flicked his white collar up further and tried again, crossing the two sides of the tie over his chest to create an X. He did a few more maneuvers successfully before giving up in a huff. “This job’s been really doing a number on me, huh?” he said, trying to compensate for his fatigue. He took the tie off and held it out to a confused Mason. “Could you just show me how you do it? I think I just need to see it done to get it back in my head.”
“Oh umm, yeah, of course,” Mason replied, a little astounded by Mr. Schmidt’s request, but he accepted the offer nonetheless. Positioning the black tie around his neck, Mason failed to notice that a collar had swiftly fluttered into existence around his neck. It promptly flapped down around it, leaving just enough room for him to move the tie. Beginning the process, Mason was surprised at how quick he was in his execution. As he went through the steps with ease, his doubts alleviated by Mr. Schmidt’s rapt nods and encouragement. Through some unseen force, Mason’s shirt also mended itself, unfortunately concealing the swelling hairy spheres that his pecs were becoming. After a minute-long attempt, Mason ended up with a semi-deflated Windsor knot. “Well, it can be hard to get on the first try. That’s for…SURE!!”
Mason sputtered from a tightening pressure as the black tie coiled tightly around his neck. Pulled by some unseen force, his mediocre Windsor knot rapidly cinched itself into an exemplary one that unfortunately concealed the young man’s shaggy chest. The wave of force wasn’t finished yet though as it continued to ripple through him like a tidal wave. At an impressive rate, Mason’s flat pecs bulged out in unison with his bloated stomach. It wasn’t a drastic change, but it certainly gave him a new fullness all over. His body looked far less scrawny and awkward and far more adult. “What the hell,” Mason gasped as he teetered on his long legs. Sure enough, he’d been endowed with a pudgy belly that hung out from his collared t-shirt, which looked like it was fit to burst due to how tight it was.
“MMFF!” came a subdued grunt from Mr. Schmidt. Peering over, Mason watched in disbelief as the middle-aged man sprung up even taller in height. His 5’10” figure launched up to a staggering 6’5”. The rapid growth also caused Mr. Schmidt’s pudgy gut to suck in on itself, giving him an extremely lean appearance. However, the weight that Mr. Schmidt lost seemed to dissipate directly into Mason who moaned as his gut developed a brand new roundness. And in an instant, it ceased, leaving the two men breathlessly panting as they stared down at their radically different figures.
“HOLY COW! I’M THIN!!” Mr. Schmidt exclaimed as he stared down at his flattened abdomen. All of his fat had vanished.
“HOLY CRAP! I’M HUGE!” Mason exclaimed, looking at his new bulbous belly. Somehow, he had absorbed all of Mr. Schmidt’s fat and then some.
“Are those abs?” Mr. Schmidt cried as he noticed six indentations beneath his baggy polyester shirt. Even his pecs made distinct shapes, but instead of their usual fat, they felt much more…rigid? A quick goose of one of them only proved his point - they had some muscle to them.
Mason, meanwhile, held onto a chair by the kitchen island, nearly toppling over from his new volleyball-sized stomach “What…what is happening?” he mewed breathlessly, giving his rotund orb a poke. Yep, it was real - and there was still a carpet of hair beneath that made his chest feel even hotter beneath the tight shirt. Desperately, he tried to lift it up, but the shirt had other ideas. It danced free from Mason’s fingers, magically generating more fabric as it descended past his waist and tucked itself into his gym shorts. The round young man squirmed as he felt two objects wrap around his upper thighs. As soon as they were fastened, Mason’s new shirt garters locked his silky new shirt in place, eliminating any wrinkles and enhancing the curvature of his belly. “No, no, no,” he cried as he sprung to yank off the garters from his thighs, however his swift action was promptly punished. As Mason feverishly tried to unclench his brand new shirt garters, his already pudgy belly swelled larger and larger until his belly was a firm hemisphere that brazenly protruded out. It looked like he had swallowed a yoga ball! Interestingly, it didn’t sag like Mr. Schmidt’s belly had; instead it stood still in place like a boulder, balanced just above his widening waistline. As one final show of its permanence, a line of white buttons shot up the center of Mason’s new oversized t-shirt, tethering it even tighter to his huge, hairy figure.
Mr. Schmidt’s chuckled dimly. “Wow Mason, you’re built like a brick shithouse!”
Mason perked up, forgetting that he now had to glance up at the taller man. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Mr. Schmidt, did you just swear?” he asked, still in disbelief that Elliott’s authoritative father had actually sworn.
“Hm? Oh yes…it certainly appears I did,” Mr. Schmidt replied, his voice trembling for a moment. Before he could speak further, his pectoral muscles suddenly exploded to the size of party balloons. “WHUH?” Mr. Schmidt choked, his composure ripped from him once again. This change was far from subtle; his flabby pecs swelled larger, first becoming lean like his abdomen before inflating further and further. It wasn’t long before a cacophony of loud pings filled the room, as Mr. Schmidt’s muscular jugs and ripped torso sent all of his shirt buttons flying. Mason could only watch in horrified mesmerism as the pair of enormous pecs swelled so large that they rivaled the size of his head. Finally, Mr. Schmidt’s pecs settled on their final commanding width. The middle-aged man sighed in relief and his porn-star pecs heaved in unison.
Both men looked at each other with wide-eyed expressions. Mason’s was one of shock, but Mr. Schmidt’s was one of raw excitement. “What is happening to us, Mr. Schmidt?” Mason asked in an attempt to clear the awkward silence. “I think that-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You don’t need to be formal with me,” Mr. Schmidt interrupted, still with that cocky smirk on his face.
“I…I don’t?”
“Yeah man. Mr. Schmidt sounds waaay too formal,” the middle-aged man replied, his manner of speech was becoming less eloquent. He still had that confident smirk plastered on his face, but it flickered intermittently, as if he was fighting to regain his self-control. “I just go by Doug,” he said before his weak shoulders immediately broadened. “Huh-huh. Doug sounds a little d-dorky, doesn’t it?” the changing man muttered as a bulge started to rise in his pants. His new pair of broad shoulders looked like they belonged to a pro-athlete and they only sent more muscles cascading down Doug’s torso. The muscle radiated downward, making Doug’s abs really pop! As one final reward, his white dress shirt flung itself free from his loose-fitting pants, revealing that his waistline had shrunk! The torn shirt provided a window for all to see that Doug’s love-handles had faded completely, giving way to a pair of show-stopping obliques and a perfectly-tapered waistline befitting of someone far more in-shape than him.
“This has to be a dream,” Mason muttered to himself. Morbidly curious, he ran a hand down his line of shirt buttons and found that his belly wasn’t a tub of fat - it was all muscle! Hidden beneath a carpet of thick hair was an array of tight abs, just like Mr. Schmidt…or Doug as he’d rather be called. Sitting down on a tall kitchen chair only made Mason’s huge belly look even larger! As he prodded it, he grew distracted by his hands. His palms had grown enormous and his fingers had become far more fat and stubby. Even worse was the fact that his nails were now perfectly manicured!
“Oh shit, the game’s back on!” Doug said as the announcer’s deep yet calming voice refilled their airwaves. He glided past Mason and plopped down on the sofa. The supposed patriarch of the house had now lost his stoicism completely and had placed his elbows on his knees as he sat on the edge of the couch, leering at the tv with youthful wonder. As a matter of fact, his face seemed a lot more…relaxed. Instead of a permanently gruff frown, Doug had a subtle grin. “So what do you and Elliott have planned for today?” he asked casually without looking away from the screen.
Elliott! What will he think of this whole mess? Mason thought. He wanted to text him again, but he wasn’t even sure how to explain the whole predicament. “Hey dude, your dad’s acting like he had a mid-life crisis and I got really fat out of nowhere” didn’t really sound all that realistic. Hell, if Mason wasn’t feeling the breadth of his hairy tits heaving up and down when he breathed, he would’ve thought he sounded crazy too.
“Mason!”
Mason rocked his head back up. “Huh what?” That was weird, he thought, Doug’s shirt looked so tight now that his nipples could be seen pressed against the fabric. Gross.
“I asked…like…what are you and Elliott gonna be up to?” Doug asked slower than before, allowing the words to linger on his tongue for longer. He’d also thrown his right arm up on the side of the couch.
“Probably just…videogames or something,” Mason mindlessly replied as he gazed at the newest spectacle in front of him. Mr. Schmidt…or…Doug actually had biceps! They weren’t small either. Cradled by the elbow-length vestiges of his tattered dress shirt, they were on full display.
“Oh word,” Doug replied calmly. There was a brief silence until another splitting “RIIIPPPP” that filled the room. Both men were wrought with bewildered as Doug’s biceps exploded through his shirt sleeves, causing white fabric to spill to the floor. Huge, hulking biceps and triceps took their place, complemented by broad forearms. They extended back to Doug’s circular shoulder muscles. His arms were bigger than any arms Mason had ever seen. After a few more tense seconds, Doug finally exhaled with relief as his huge biceps and triceps finished solidifying. They were enormous - so enormous in fact, that Mason could even see their long, striatic veins from his perch at the kitchen table.
As Doug flexed one of his new massive arms, Mason espied Doug’s waist as it tapered itself to a smaller width, making Doug’s faded dress pants oversized. They hung loosely below his midriff for a moment before they pulled taut once again while his round thighs swelled a few inches larger. “Oh fuck yea, dude,” Doug purred, his voice sounded different so he cleared his throat. It sounded less like a man in his forties trying to act hip and more like a younger man whose deep voice now had an air of juvenescence to it.
It was at this moment that his fatty thighs ballooned forth, stretching the black polyester of his fading pants. Cradling his growing erection, Doug’s thighs rapidly stretched tight with muscle, becoming just as robust as his arms and pecs. His pants also seemed eager to show his thighs off as they suddenly crept up his legs until they stopped just above his knee. In those short few seconds, the black color disappeared from them, replaced by a dark brown, then a deep maroon, until finally settling on a scarlet red hue. Doug shook his legs and felt the brawniness radiate through them, aggrandizing his thighs and turning his slender calves into round ovals of muscle. Even his feet swelled larger and his black nylon socks turned to skimpy white athletic ones. Doug gingerly ran a hand over one of his new, muscular thighs, ogling at how spectacular they looked in his new bright red gym shorts. These were the type of legs that belonged to a very athletic individual, something Doug had never considered himself to be before.
Mason couldn’t help but notice that the back of Doug’s palm and wrist kept bumping into his tenting bulge as he squeezed his thighs, causing his cock to jiggle with each touch. Man, Doug sure was bad at being slick. Mason rolled his eyes - even he knew that trick.
“Ooh!” Doug said with surprise before that same dopey grin returned to his face. He was raised a few inches in the air as his buttcheeks inflated beneath him. As he placed his new brawny arms behind his head to relax, his torn shirt began to reform, quickly exposing his armpits. The remnants of his tattered sleeves vanished as the remaining fabric grew much skimpier and revealing. The shirt’s white coloration switched into dark black and compressed around his muscular barrel of a chest. Two thin straps appeared around Doug’s shoulders, pulling his new black tank top tight. “Fuck man, I’m so huge,” he gloated, giving one of his huge biceps another self-indulgent flex.
With the sudden changes seemingly over, Mason snapped out of his flabbergasted daze. It had been impossible to turn away and it was even more impossible to fathom. Somehow, the most stoic man he knew had become this dopey, muscular dude. If it wasn’t for his middle-aged face, Doug could be mistaken for a young athlete, the kind that just commanded attention. “I’m so fucking jacked! Let’s go!” Doug exclaimed, boisterously and lively like a college kid would.
Mason wanted to respond to Doug’s out of character cursing, but something stopped him. For the first time in years, the middle-aged man seemed so happy, even while wearing a younger man’s clothes. The crow’s feet around his eyes had vanished and his whole face had a new glow to it. Mason felt oddly proud. It felt wrong to stomp on Doug’s joy.
Then, Mason’s butt expanded beneath him.
“Whoa!” he cried as he was launched up from his stool. It nearly toppled to the floor over as the massive globes recentered the round young man’s posture. Mason’s new oversized rump was double the size of Doug’s! It was so large that it had propelled him up out of the stool, forcing Mason to instinctively hop out of the teetering chair, a reflex as to not fall over. Standing up also had an adverse effect on his dark gym shorts: they now had a collection of sharp white lines running down them. Even worse was that they couldn’t even be called shorts anymore. As additional fabric quickly unspooled to his ankles, Mason realized he was wearing a pair of black pinstriped pants! To complement them, Mason’s short white athletic socks stretched up his hairy legs and shifted into thin, black nylons: just like Doug’s old ones.
A presence at Mason’s stomach caught his attention. “Whuh?” he muttered, realizing that his stomach had pressed into the granite tabletop. It had grown even bigger? “No, no,” he pleaded. “I’ve gotta be like three hundred pounds! And I look like a f…fatass.”
Doug looked over, clearly noticing Mason’s distress. “What? You’re not a fatass,” he comforted. “You’ve just got the body of an ex-bodybuilder. At least, that’s what you’ve always told me.”
“Ex…body…builder…” Mason mewled. He flexed his arms and suddenly, they exploded with muscle right before his eyes. Thick, sinewy muscle radiated across his biceps and triceps, spreading to his delts and forearms in record speed. In a matter of seconds, his arms had surpassed Doug’s. They were huge and his black hair complemented their mass perfectly. Mason’s frayed shirtsleeves stood no chance against their magnificent mass and they began to immediately lengthen to cover them back up. “Mmm that’s right,” Mason grunted uncontrollably as the sleeves descended past his elbows until their reached his wrists - at which point they terminated into sharp new French cuffs. It was such a confusing, fiery feeling: to be mortified for having a huge belly, but then to be given arms that rivaled Schwarzenegger’s. A fancy new silver wristwatch appeared above the right hairy mitt that his right hand had become. “Errg no! This isn’t right! I don’t d-dress like this,” Mason huffed, his rich, sonorous bass ricocheting around the huge room.
“What are you talking about, Dad?”
Mason was in his own little world, just as his pastel-colored shirt dyed itself a rich shade of indigo. “I feel so…grown up. I feel…Wait a minute, Doug, what did you call me?”
“Umm… I called you Dad,” Doug replied peremptorily, as if Mason should’ve known. He glanced at the tv screen and then back ahead. “Why’d you call me Doug?” he retorted. His weak chin squared up and his thin lips became fat and kissable. “I feel like that’s such a dorky name! I’d rather go by Jack or Tristan or something. Yeah Tristan! That’s it!” To reaffirm the newly-minted muscular jock’s new name, the final wrinkles vanished from his face as he readjusted his crooked backward black cap.
Before Mason could inquire further, a wave of cold air rushed against his head from all directions. He nearly screamed as he brought his hand up to his head only to feel…nothing. There was zero hair remaining, no bristles, no nothing! Somehow, the one spot where Mason wanted his hair to say had been taken from him, while the rest of his body was coated in it. His head of long blonde hair had been taken from him in one moment. “What the hell!” Mason cried, abruptly jumping out of his seat.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tristan asked.
“Uh-huh,” Mason replied as he ran away, although it wasn’t very fast. His huge drum of a belly had repositioned his center of gravity and his reduced walking pace was to a lumbering waddle, only encumbered further by his humongous legs and arms. The stout man frantically headed down the adjacent hall toward the nearest bathroom. There was only one room at the end of the hall and that was Mr. Schmidt’s or…Tristan’s old room, but Mason didn’t care. He shuffled inside and darted into the master bathroom. However, his worst fears were confirmed.
“Holy shit!” Mason exclaimed. The reflection that greeted him was a total stranger that shared his face. This man had a huge, commanding, round barrel of a stomach and was dressed up like a businessman. He also must’ve grown a little taller and not even realized it! Reckoning he was almost taller than the mirror, Mason figured he must’ve been around 6 feet tall. His fear began to turn into intrigue. He actually looked…kinda cool! His immense width even eclipsed the width of the mirror, and he had to step back to take in his full breadth. This huge, formally-dressed beefcake of a man was actually him! The grapefruit-sized bulge in his pants indicated that there was certainly something different there too! Maybe, this wasn’t all bad.
The sound of Mason’s ringtone filled the bathroom. It took a few tries for him to jam his square hands into his wide pocket, but he finally found success. And to Mason’s relief, it was Elliott.
“Hey what’s up?” Elliott asked. “I just saw your text. What’s going on?”
“Dude!” Mason cried, his deep, unfamiliar voice echoed through the bathroom. “You won’t believe what’s happening. I know this sounds crazy, but I changed! I’m huge now and I’m dressed all fancy. And your dad is acting crazy! He looks just like a jock!l And he called me his dad and-”
“Jeez, you’re talking a mile a minute,” Elliott interrupted. “Listen, I just opened the garage. I’ll see ya in a sec."
“Great! Meet me in the master bedroom!” Mason exclaimed before promptly hanging up. It was almost comical to hear his low, sultry voice riddled with anxiety. He returned his attention to his domineering reflection. He shook his huge bulge and gave one of his pecs a squeeze. Fuck, that felt good. Curiosity struck again as Mason couldn’t resist the urge to try to bounce the rectangular slabs that were now his pecs. To his joy, they wiggled with ease and he bounced up and down beneath his silky cerulean dress shirt. He exited the bathroom and reentered the bedroom, observing the football pennants and modern art on the wall. This room seemed super personalized. On one of the dressers, Mason noticed there was a line of trophies: all little golden muscular dudes flexing their disproportionately-huge arms.
“Mason! What’s up?” Elliott called as he walked through the open bedroom door.
“Elliott!” the larger-than-life man bellowed as he spun around. “I’m so glad to see you!” he said as he strode a few steps over to give the tall young man a hug. Mason was so hairy now that he could feel his shoulder hair crumple during their embrace.
“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Elliott asked, confusedly before reciprocating the bear hug.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you!” Mason praised as he released his huge arms from his friend and stepped back. “I can’t believe I look like this! I’m dressed like this and I’m like 350 pounds! And your dad changed! He got so much younger and…” Mason trailed off as he looked at his friend. Elliott was wearing a bright red tank top, and skimpy black shorts, but unlike his father, he wasn’t wearing a baseball cap.
“Whoa dude, slow down,” Elliott said, immediately noticing his friend’s duress. “Do you need to sit down or something?”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just sit down and talk this through,” Mason acquiesced. He sat down at the edge of the king-sized bed, trying not to think about his size. His massive pecs heaved up and down as he tried to calm down and his mountainous buttcheeks took up quite a lot of space on the bed.
Luckily, Elliott didn’t notice as he sat down. “Dude, dorky shirt,” he added playfully, with an awkward laugh punctuated by a teenage voice crack.
“Like you’re one to talk. What’s with the tank?” Mason quipped.
“What do you mean?” Elliott asked, he seemed genuinely confused. “I wear tank tops all the time. But you’re dressed like you work for Wall Street.”
“God, I know!” Mason grumbled and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m so huge I can’t even see my feet! Not to mention, I’m frickin’ bald now!”
“That’s not a big deal. You’ve always been…MMFFHH…eh…bald. And huge,” Elliott’s sentiment was interrupted by his torso suddenly swelling with muscle, pulling the loose tank top taut against it. His pecs developed a new fullness. “Whoops, sorry,” Elliott apologized. His back began to stretch out behind him in accordance with his brand new broadening shoulders. The stimulation spread to his thin neck, which promptly began to thicken and sink into his brand new trap muscles.
Mason’s heart plummeted and he could feel sweat forming all around his bald head. “DUDE! You’re changing too!” he cried, his strong voice rife with panic. “You’re dressed like just like my son….I mean…your dad!”
“My dad?” Elliott replied. He stared off into the distance like he didn’t know.
“Yeah! The man out in the living room!” Mason frantically replied.
“Oh, you mean Tristan?” Elliott asked right as his abs burst forth, blossoming into eight sharp ridges visible beneath the red tank. Simultaneously, his arms began to balloon with muscle. It took only a few seconds for Elliott to follow the temptation of his former father and succumb to the urge to flex them. Immediately, he was smiling ear to ear as he watched engorged veins embellish his arms as they went from lanky to moderate to brawny. Mason had to admit, it was a little wholesome to watch: the way Elliott’s eyes lit up with unbridled excitement the same way that Tristan’s had.
“Yes! Um…I mean no.” Mason’s head was swimming. Recollections of the past and present were mixing together, like two timelines were intersecting. “Look. You’re changing too! Just like I did and just like T-Tristan did! We aren’t meant to look like this!”
“Yes we are,” Elliott calmly refuted, his voice sounded much deeper this time, similar to Tristan’s dopey baritone. “We put the work in the gym to get this big!” Paired with his huge pecs and round stomach, Elliott reminded Mason of a powerlifter. His thin waist had broadened to complement the girth of his growing muscle gut. His bulkier body was engineered for raw power while Tristan’s was engineered for agility. “And I never skip leg day. I take up after you, old man,” Elliott smiled, patting Mason’s muscular thigh. As he did, black strands began to blossom over his exposed chest, coating his muscular pecs with bristles.
“No, I’m not old!” Mason cried. He was so stressed that he could feel warm sweat start to accumulate under his hairy pecs. He didn’t know that was even possible.
“But you’ve literally got a mustache, dude,” Elliott said, accompanied by the sound of his gym shorts straining from his growth.
“I have a…what!” Running a finger over his upper lip, Mason could feel bristles, like he was touching a brush. Even stranger, he could feel them spreading further to the edges of his lips. Thick black hairs sprouted from oblivion, enhancing the young man’s facial expressions and making him appear far more stern. “Shit, this can’t be happening,” Mason huffed. His wooly mustache bobbed up and down with each word that left his lips. It looked ridiculous on his youthful face as he began to breathe heavier. “I…I can’t be old. I…I can’t be a father.”
“Hey, hey, I think the mustache is a great look,” Elliott comforted as a five o’clock shadow appeared on his face. The red tank top, once loose now was perfectly fitted to the young man’s new frame, showcasing his arms and obliques. He could discern the anguish in Mason’s eyes. “Seriously, are you feeling okay? What’s going on?” Elliott asked, wrapping one of his muscled arms over Mason’s broad pillar of a back.
The sight of a hulking businessman was on the brink of tears. He couldn’t help it though. . He didn’t know the first thing about being an adult! To make matters worse, the longer he looked at Elliott, he could see a younger version of himself, especially from the dusting of hair forming across his body. “Dude I’m freaking out. I don’t even remember which house I live at. Or what my parents look like. Or what their names even are! I…I….It must be this house! That must be the reason I’m l-like this,” Mason tried to stand up from the bed, but it took a few extra seconds longer due to his gargantuan size.
“I don’t really know if I know either,” Elliott admitted. His attempt to be helpful only muddled his brain further. As he stood up after Mason, his nonexistent butt suddenly inflated forth, becoming two thick globes of muscle. Elliott couldn’t resist the urge to gawk at his huge body: his junior powerlifter’s stomach, his brawny arms and hairy, muscular legs. His build almost made him look fat, similar to Mason’s, but the sheer force and power he exuded more than made up for it. “Whoa, look at me dude,” he said, a smug grin appearing on his face. “I’m huge! Nothing like you though!”
A dwindling part of Mason’s brain wanted to resist the urge to ogle over his size, but the temptation was too much to bear. Just like the younger man in front of him, Mason flexed his arms and was instantly rewarded with a rush of dopamine. His pecs were nearly twice the size of his head and his butt protruded nearly a foot behind him. “I really am huge,” he agreed. A cocky smirk appeared on his face as his doubts began to fade. More rushes of testosterone inundated his system and calmed his anxieties. As he looked at Elliott’s confident smile, he could tell his friend was suspended in equal bliss. His familiar boy-next-door face was changing. His chin was widening like a shovel, his nose was ballooning larger, and his shaggy blonde hair rapidly was darkening to a jet black color, short and slicked back. His eyebrows became the same black color and his eyes grew even fuller and dreamier. When Mason looked at Elliott, he felt a new sense of friendship, one of deep, paternal love. He wanted to see his future son succeed the way he had at that age.
Although the feelings were surreal, the guilt about becoming a father was too much for Mason to bear. “Elliott, I’m erasing your family though,” he blurted.
“Hm?” The brawny jock asked while his handsome face aged from an eighteen-year-old to a twenty-two-year-old. Aside from his burlier build, he looked extremely similar to his brother Tristan. With his broad chin and short haircut, this guy was a far cry from the geeky high schooler that had walked in minutes earlier. “What do you mean, Dad?”
Mason twiddled his fat hands nervously as sweat formed above his bushy eyebrows. “You and your brother…you look like my sons and I…can’t…remember what you used to look-”
The roar of Tristan’s low voice came from the living room and easily traveled to the bedroom. “Bennett! The game’s back on, bro!”
The dazed jock had a moment of confusion before that confident smile returned to his face. “Later Dad,” Bennett replied, his voice completely devoid of its adolescent awkwardness. Immediately accepting his new name, the hulking young man headed toward the door at a walking pace so much slower than before. His larger, linebacker stature inhibited his speed and his heavy stomps were far more intense than his dainty footfalls when he was taller and lankier. Elliott turned sideways and flashed a jovial grin at his new father and subconsciously pulled the bedroom door shut as he left. Seeing his reflection in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door only reignited Mason’s fiery self-worship as he was greeted to another sight of his gigantic, tightly-clothed frame.
Mason wanted to yell out and tell the young man that he wasn’t his father, but that wouldn’t be true. Elliott…or Bennett Holt was his son and a beefcake of a twenty-two-year-old, just like his twin brother Tristan. Mason was so proud of them. They had both blossomed into an inseparable duo of college football players who put in the heart and soul to get to the top. The “Holt Colts,” as they were colloquially known, were a force to be reckoned with, and Mason Holt, their ex-football player turned bodybuilder of a father, was their central impetus. It was all so much to think about.
“Fuck,” Mason cursed as he looked at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. His cock sprouted in his pinstriped pants so he promptly unzipped it before gently stroking it. The skinny young man who had walked inside the house was a far cry from this beefcake of a dad who was in his place. This man was so huge that his immense figure barely fit in the mirror’s frame. This strong, middle-aged man always had that problem wherever he went. Having to take a few steps back was an everyday practice of his: whether that be in his home or work mirror. Where did he work again?
“I’m a father,” he affirmed to himself. He snarled his teeth in the mirror, enamored by the way his mustache accentuated every emotion. The huge bodybuilder of a man turned to the side and ogled at his endearing new shape: his rigid stomach and colossal butt were nothing less than eye-catching. “I’m just a big ol’ daddy,” he growled. He was too. Not only did he have two sons to show for it, but he could remember a vivid, sex-filled life. He was a sexual beast, having satisfied the likes of many men and women alike. “Mr. Holt” they always called him. “Daddy” was the one that really got him fired up though.
Mr. Holt ripped his black tie off and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dark blue dress shirt to let his saucer-sized pecs breathe. As his strokes grew more intense, he watched his hairy pecs bounce up and down with his movements. The forty-eight-year-old behemoth radiated so much pride. He wasn’t some bumbling, nervous kid anymore. He was Mr. Holt to almost everyone he met. Bennett and Tristan Holt, a linebacker and wide receiver respectively were both entering their final year of university football and were on their way to join the pros. Mr. Holt couldn’t be prouder. Even in middle age, he’d taken up bodybuilding and his calming, sultry voice - it was very recognizable. He loved to ramble on and on about football. He knew practically everything about the sport and was good at it too. He’d played the pros for a few years before retiring and raising his sons, all while transitioning into a bodybuilder on the side.
Mr. Holt pumped his cock harder, fascinated by the way his bull-sized balls bounced underneath his dress pants. “I’m just a big muscle daddy now,” he moaned with no more hesitation. His new master bedroom changed all around him as he pumped away. The cruddy wood trim of the walls vanished and they became a nice pastel shade of tan. A mounted flatscreen tv appeared on the wall and the queen-sized bed stretched out into a memory foam-filled king. Pennants from a multitude of colleges and framed pictures of him and his sons now adorned the modern walls. In the corner of the room, a moderately-sized glass trophy case appeared, filled with shiny medals and little statues. With his erection fit to burst, the 350-pound man waddled over to it, eager to read the various accolades he’d been rewarded. There were a lot of trophies and medals inside, many from his years in professional football and many from bodybuilding. One trophy bigger than the rest beckoned his attention. It read “IFBB 1st Place” and under it was the name “Stan Holt.”
“MMMM!” Stan Holt growled as his thick, hot, cum shot through his floodgates. It shot down onto his work desk, narrowly missing his desktop computer. It felt so good: the oozing, glopping testosterone, his rippling muscles, his hairy body - he felt like he’d been given the greatest gift in the world. All memories of the Schmidt family were expunged from existence forever, replaced by the new Holt family with Stan finally becoming the proud, handsome patriarch he was predestined to be. The panting forty-eight-year-old bodybuilder gripped his muscle gut as the vestiges of his orgasm trailed out of his girthy cock. Luckily, he’d gotten none on his fancy clothes - it was a skill that he’d mastered over the years. After putting his thick member back in his pants, Stan promptly reached under his work desk and snatched a vial of colgine. He kept a his full of wipes and sprays under there so he could purify the room after his bouts of raunchy self-expression.
“You dirty perv,” Stan whispered to himself as he spritzed himself and the ventilated room with tropical cologne. That always did the trick to rid the smell of his spunk. With his head now cleared, he sat his big ass down on his new office chair and breathed another sigh of relief. Now settled into his new life, Stan Holt opened up his computer and fired away a few emails. Many of them were about the company he worked for. They called him their star media personality because he was. Looking at his silver wristwatch, Stan realized he only had a few more minutes before he had to leave.
As a sports announcer, Stan Holt had mastered the art of projecting his voice. Being an ex-football player turned sports announcer wasn’t all fun and games, especially being a bodybuilder on the side. Responsibility came naturally to Stan though. After all, it was far easier than his past challenge of raising a pair of twin sons with a divorced wife. With that thought, Stan stood back up, giving his black leather office chair some much-needed respite from carrying his weight. The hulking man grabbed a suit jacket from the chair and black tie he’d thrown on the bed and threw them over his shoulder. He’d wear them later once he was at work, but he always let his hairy pecs breathe during the convertible ride to the stadium. As Stan exited his room, his shoulders and colossal butt nearly filled the doorframe - both just further indications of his massive size.
Walking down the hallway, Stan paused for a moment and looked at his favorite picture on the wall. It was one of him and his two sons taken at a banquet all donned up in dress clothes. It had been a few years ago, back when Stan had had hair and hadn’t yet decided to grow out his mustache. He was in the middle with one massive arm over each of his sons. Bennett was in the middle of saying something, most likely a jokey remark, and Tristan was laughing, while Stan was the only one beaming for the camera. The picture always made him smile and he always glanced at it every day.
As Stan entered the living room, which he was surprised to find it vacant. Although he didn’t think anything of it, the whole house had lost its old character. A more modern and uniquely stylish decor had overtaken the tacky, old wooden walls, turned them a light gray color, and adorned them with a plethora of colorful pictures and art pieces. More interestingly, Stan could hear a familiar sound filled the air: his own voice. Sure enough, the television was playing a rerun of one of his old games. Stan just smirked and turned the tv off. It was always a pleasant surprise to hear his own deep, macho voice was broadcast to millions of homes worldwide. Recording it in the studio was never the same as hearing it on tv.
It didn’t take very long for Stan to find his twin sons predictably tossing a football in the backyard. Both heads turned at the recognizable timbre of his deep bass. “Guys, I’m headed to the stadium. Bennett, you’re in charge of your brother.” This was a common joke between them and their dad since they always had debates over who was the more-trustworthy sibling.
“Like he could even take care of himself,” Tristan chuckled, slugging Bennett on the shoulder.
“Shut up man,” Bennett laughed, giving his brother a playful shove back, nearly causing Tristan to drop the pigskin.
Even twenty-two years after they were born, it was still surreal for Stan to think of his sons as strong, young men, but there was no denying it. For the moment, he still had them beat in mass, but the boys were definitely on their way to rivaling and possibly surpassing his size and he couldn’t be prouder. “And if one of you eats that prime rib I got in the freezer, it’ll be your ass.” Stan commanded, although his light-hearted tone made it obvious that he wasn’t being serious.
“He’s talking about you, dude,” Bennett said.
“Yeah, I know, you hairy ape,” Tristan joked.
“This is why we label things in the freezer boys,” Stan interrupted. “Take care of each other now,” he said, his black and silver mustache contrasting perfectly with his pearly veneers, and headed back in the house. His boys were always mischievous to each other. Despite the fact they’d matured into astute athletes, they still bickered with each other like schoolchildren. Stan always loved when they came over, as any parent does. Tristan and Bennett both had their own places across town but were over all the time. Dad’s house had the best food after all.
Throwing on the pair of shiny, black Oxfords that Stan kept by the door was always a laborious task. Stan’s huge belly stifled his flexibility severely, but he was used to it. The fact it took a few tries for him to get down to tie his shoes was a small price to pay for being a giant among men. Standing back up, the colossal man marveled at his impressive side-view in the mirror by the doorway. His posture was perfect, his face was handsome, and his husky stomach, prominent bulge, and tight, firm glutes were impossible to miss.
Stan Holt opened up his garage and stepped inside his chic maroon convertible. He tossed his suit jacket and black tie on the passenger seat - he always used the drive there as a way to air out his hairy chest. Firing up the car, he threw on a pair of black sunglasses and reversed into the street. The warm wind caressed Stan Holt’s hairy chest as he turned on the radio. The content smile remained on his face. He was eager to narrate another game. The exodus from being a pro football player into a sports announcer and pro bodybuilder had been more than fulfilling. Placing one of his muscular arms on the car door, Stan Holt cranked up the radio and sped down the road, excited to spend another day doing what he loved.
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I was totally in love with Jimmy. It took me time to realize it; the fluttering when he looked into my eyes, the excitement when he happened to touch me or hug me, the search for his scent when we were close. My senses were magnetized by his mere presence, but I was still unable to interpret what was happening to me. In the messiness of teenage years, I mistook the feelings I had for him for those of a great friendship, which was completely reciprocated.
After all, Jimmy was a hardened straight guy, a vulcano of testosterone constantly looking for a chick, a dedicated and conservative macho man. Over the years he had managed to build a solid reputation as a womanizer while I played backup, unable to reveal that the only person I wanted was him. I used to pretend to be interested in girls so as not to make him uncomfortable, but then I was too clumsy and awkward to really try, always ending up going blank. Past the age of 20, he couldn't remember the names of all the girls he had been with, while I was still a virgin and wanted him more and more every day. I realized that I couldn't keep this inside anymore, I had to tell him, at the cost of losing his friendship. But I had to take precautions, he could react violently: so I documented myself and found a special audio file on the deep web. According to the users, it would induce a hypnotic, sleep-like state of mind in which the subject could be influenced by commands and instructions that he necessarily had to obey. The effect would be more powerful the more the person on the other side trusted the person who was issuing the commands. For a moment I thought I could turn him gay and have him all to myself,…but then I laughed it off. It was never going to work. So I decided to send him the edited audio with some simple sentences: I told him that I was gay, that for years I had felt an attraction to him but that this was not a problem, that he would take me for who I was and help me accept myself and show me his support and affection as always. I sent it to him and waited. The blue ticks confirmed that he had listened to the audio and I could already imagine him lying on the bed, his massive hairy chest peeking out from the covers, his smile dumb and his eyes closed.
I became turned on and was on the verge of masturbating when after a few minutes I got a message from him.
- Bro, this afternoon, my place. I need to talk to you.
A chill ran down my spine. How could I have thought that audio would work?
I spent the morning searching my head for plausible excuses, but could not find one. Then again, there was no excuse. I just had to accept the reality of the facts, I would most likely lose a friend. So I was stunned when, after knocking on his door, Jimmy greeted me with a smile.
He was dressed in one of his usual black tank tops, which let his chest hair show through. He had probably just showered, but he still emanated a very strong masculine scent. He told me to sit on the couch, offered me a beer, and we played some video games. Everything seemed normal, as if nothing had happened. I was about to start relaxing, when Jimmy finally said something, pausing the game.
- Bro, can I take off my tank top? It's hot as hell here.
I was puzzled. Usually Jimmy didn't have such qualms, not with me. He would take it off without asking anyone's opinion. I tried to act as natural as possible.
- Sure, go ahead.
Jimmy then stood looking at me as he lingered on the tank top with his hand, slowly lifting it up while with his other arm he showed me his hairy armpit. It took him a full minute to undress, his fingers caressing his furry, toned chest, always with his eyes anchored on mine.
He was damn sexy, and in his gaze I could read the awareness of it…he was trying to turn me on. I could not utter a word. Only when he remained shirtless, his armpit always in view, I decided to speak.
- What…what are you doing?
- Nothing bro, it's too hot. In fact, I'd almost take off my pants too. May I?
I didn't answer. I could no longer formulate a concrete thought, I was totally speechless.
- Okay, I'll take that as a yes.
Jimmy stood up and went to the wall, leaned his back against it, and began to unbutton his pants, never taking his eyes off me. I had never seen this look in his eyes before, was this perhaps what he sported with the girls? Because then I understood perfectly why they fell at his feet so easily.
I stared at him open-mouthed, going so far as to risk drooling on the floor. It was not the first time I had seen him in his underwear, but there was something highly erotic in his gestures. Once he was in his underwear, he sat back down on the couch and then slowly slid down to lie down.
- What do you think, am I good like this?
The question rekindled curiosity in me, as inside my pants I felt my cock burst with horniness.
- You're doing…you're doing just fine. But…Jimmy, sorry, what are you doing?
He stood up and without answering went to lower the blinds. Suddenly in the living room the atmosphere became more intimate, his naked body illuminated only by the dim light of the TV set. Then with slow steps he approached again. I was sitting on the sofa, motionless, my throbbing cock hidden in my pants. I felt like I was living a dream. When he reached in front of me, he opened his legs and with a quick movement mounted on top of me, looking into my eyes.
His muscular chest was inches from my face as I felt his crotch caress my belly. I realized that he was not having an erection.
- I'm just doing what you asked, what you ORDERED me to do, bro.
- I…I just asked you to accept me for who I am, to help me live with my sexuality, to show me affection.
- That's right, am I not doing that?
I paled. I had overestimated him. I should have been more didactic and precise, not remaining in the abstract. This was the way Jimmy was showing me affection. His body stood before mine, I could feel his breath, his gaze penetrating me.
- I'm waiting for orders, bro. How can I help you again?
He looked at me with a sense of impatience, as if he necessarily had to please me. It was at that moment, looking straight into his pupils, that I decided to let go completely. This was my only chance to have him.
- Kiss me.
Jimmy smiled and moved closer to my face. As I felt our lips touching, parting to let out our tongues, I felt arousal taking hold of me. It was the first time I had ever kissed a man, and it was Jimmy himself, the stud I had longed for years and years. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him, feeling his warm chest on top of me. I let go of him only a few moments, just so I could take off my shirt and finally feel his skin on mine. Slowly we ended up lying on the couch, our warm bodies entwined, his muscles probed voraciously by my hands with no more restraint. I was so caught up in the contact with his skin that I was not immediately aware of his erection. It was he who pointed it out to me, pulling away from my body and pointing to his bulging underpants.
- Wow, man, I have to admit that you are a good fucking kisser! My cock is hard!
The silhouette of his cock clenched in the fabric of his underwear left me speechless. We were bro and I had seen him naked in the locker room before -- which of course had gotten me so horny at the time -- but never had I seen him with an erection. I felt the urge to bite his underwear off.
- Do you wanna see it, bro?
A trickle of saliva was falling from my wide-open lips. I nodded, still unable to fully realize what was happening. Jimmy then made to take off his underwear, but suddenly stopped.
- Come with me. Let's go to my room, we'll be more comfy.
His room was not new to me. Around his large bed were underwear and clothing scattered on the floor, on the walls football posters and half-naked women. Although Jimmy was a young adult, his room remained that of a messy teenager. There was a strong musky smell in the air, which drove me even more crazy. Once inside, he picked me up and threw me on the bed, only to call my attention back. He was taking off his underwear for real. Then something in his gaze changed. The mocking smile and intense dark eyes left room for embarrassment; he got on the bed, on his knees, without taking his eyes off me. His cock was hidden by his hands.
- Sorry bro…this is the first time I've shown it to a guy.
It suddenly made me so tender. I didn't know with what courage I approached him and kissed him again, taking his face in my hands. He let me kiss him again, returning gently with my tongue, but without moving his arms still intent on covering his pubes. I pulled away and looked into his eyes.
- I am not just any guy, you know that.
- I know bro, you're my best buddy. But I don't know if I can get through this.
I lingered for a few moments, then pronounced my order, still sustaining his gaze.
- I command you. Show me your cock.
His eyes again glowed with lust. He dropped onto the bed, resting one arm under his head, showing me his armpit again. His other hand went to his crotch, running over the pubic hair until he reached for the base of his penis with his fingers. He shook his dick as I could not believe my eyes.
He had a beautiful cock. I certainly didn't think it would be huge -- it was about 7 inches long -- but it was perfectly proportioned, with a curved shape, a base of thick, smooth hair, a swollen, firm ballsack underneath. I couldn't help but move closer. He did not have time to ask me anything that I had squeezed him between my lips. He let out a sudden moan as I lost myself in the salty taste of his hard cock.
I reached to swallow him completely, pressing my face against his hairs, breathing in his masculine scent. I would then run my tongue over the head, seeking his gaze, taking his penis with my hand and slamming it into my cheeks producing a soft pop, then swallowing it again. He meanwhile could not remain composed. He began to pant, I could glimpse his face caught in excitement, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open. He went so far as to put his hand on my head, guiding me up and down his shaft, rhythmically. I went on for a few minutes of intense pleasure, until he decided to withdraw. He leaned his back against the bedpost, still looking at me, continuing to pant with a shocked look on his face.
- You…were awesome, bro. Where the fuck did you learn to do these blowjobs?
I wiped my saliva with my hand. I still had my pants on, my penis was literally about to burst.
- I didn't learn from anyone, you're…you're the first for me. I've never been with anyone else.
Jimmy's face got confused for a few moments, then filled with a gentle smile. He came closer by standing on his knees and rested his cock on my face.
The smell of his dick was filling my nostrils.
- This is my first time with a guy too, you know. But I'm ready to do anything to make you feel good. What should I do now, bro?
I returned his horny gaze, then uttered just two words.
- Fuck me.
Everything that happened after that will stick in my memory forever. There were no restraints, not even on his side, the more the minutes passed the more we gave in to our wilder, animal side. After hurriedly taking off my pants and boxers, throwing them on the floor, I rushed again to suck his cock passionately. He seemed to be ignited by some aggressiveness by now, he was grabbing my head with his hands using a good amount of force, slamming his penis on my cheeks almost hurting me. I felt like his possession, a horny little slut who would do anything for him. Was this perhaps how all the girls he had been with had felt? But now it was me in their place, on that hot summer afternoon, in the sweat of our bodies and the musky smell that permeated the room. I was the one fucking Jimmy, the dream of my whole life, and we needed no words, the understanding we had in our friendship converted into sexual energy, into a unique complicity. There was no need for words even when he picked me up and put me against the bedpost, opening my legs. Still staring into my eyes, he headed lower with his face; I thought he was going to give me a blowjob, but he moved past that.
The moment his tongue lightly touched my anus, a shiver of pleasure ran down my spine as I let out a high-pitched moan. I felt his short beard rubbing my buttocks, the tip of his tongue unsettling me with every touch. I tried to grab my dick with my hands but I was no longer in control of my body, slowly I was sliding on the bed until I was completely lying down. My cock suddenly erupted, now unable to contain itself. Splashes of semen soaked my entire abdomen, even ending up on the sheets and beyond, so violent were the jets my member was launching. He continued to watch me orgasm, then smiled.
- I've never made a girl squirt so much. I'm good huh, bro?
His smirk after making me cum melted me for good. I was completely his, in body and soul.
- And now it's time to fuck you.
I let him take me in his embrace and made me get on all fours on the bed while he searched his nightstand for a condom. Then he came up behind me; I felt his presence, trembling with excitement but trying to look ready.
He spit on his hand and wet my anus, making me moan just by touching me. Then, gently and slowly, he entered. It was the first time I had ever been fucked, I felt pain right away but then I caught my breath. It was Jimmy who was fucking me, finally, after all the time I had wanted him. As this thought replayed in my head, my anus relaxed, letting his cock in all the way. I felt a huge wave of pleasure envelop me, my legs giving out, but Jimmy grabbed me by the hips and continued. Time had lost its meaning, each movement of his pelvis produced an ecstasy in me so intense that no other thought was possible. I found myself looking up into his face without realizing it; he had pulled off and turned me over, letting his shaft stay out of my ass for only the bare minimum. Drops of sweat were being collected from his chest hair, then falling on me, while guttural, primate-like noises were coming out of his mouth. My dick was hard again, my ass caved in by the violence of his penetration.
He took my hips again and lay down, settling my body on himself and impaling me with his cock again. He even went so far as to put his hands on my chest, exactly as he would have done with a woman's breasts, perhaps out of habit. He groped my pecs, while I kept moaning with high-pitched squeals, as if I were a bitch, his little slut. Then it happened. I felt a final thrust of his hips, firmer than the others, as Jimmy let out a prolonged moan. I realized, feeling the heat in my anus, that he had come inside me. It was enough to make me take my cock in my hands and masturbate; a few seconds and I came too, this time on him. A few drops also came on his face, still with his mouth open from the orgasm.
Our sweaty bodies remained motionless for a couple of minutes, one on top of the other. Then he decided to pull away, and I fell exhausted on the bed. The silence was broken only by our breaths, which slowly became regular again. It was he who broke the ice; he touched my arm, demanding my attention.
He stood there, lying sweating on the bed, looking at me ardently. Now there was not only excitement in his eyes, but a new spark, perhaps curiosity, perhaps real affection.
- Bro, this was the best! How about we do it again, are you in?
That's what was new in his eyes. Jimmy was really happy, thrilled. I didn't have time to answer him that he got back up and then got on all fours, showing me his butt cheeks.
- This time it's your turn, bro. Come and fuck me.
As stunned I looked at his smiling, aroused face, I had confirmation. This was our first time, but it certainly would not be our last.
I decide to make other version of our story concept with different ending. Thank to @worldofdirtyimagination
“You guys fancy going to the water park today?” Spoke Ryan, with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes
“They’re for kids, besides I’m broke until I get paid from work and it’s the middle of summer, tickets are gonna be crazy expensive” sighed Nathan. Ryan looked at his other two friends for their approval but they just kept their head down and said nothing. There was a pause before Ryan sparked up with an idea he had that would fix everything.
“Wait! What if I could smuggle you guys in?” Ryan smiled
“And get caught only to pay a stupid fine? No thanks” chipped in Ross, who also was strapped for cash to say the least.
“No! We wouldn’t get caught, it’s an…unconventional method… but it’ll work!” As his friends leaned in to listen, Ryan took a breathe and began to explain his plan. “Okay. So. Here’s my plan, I have this book at home which has… abilities.”
“What kind of abilities?” Questioned Justin, the last of the pack finally chippied in.
“The abilities to transform objects… so I was thinking, the three of you could be… transformed…” Ryan muttered
“Transformed into what? How’s this gonna help us get into a water park?” Nathan snapped
“Okay, don’t freak out… but a Speedo..” Ryan waited for his friends response but they were calm.
I like to search pictures which may be used in one story. So here are bunch of photos of one swimsuit model which I found at AliExpress (in customers reviews) and Tumblr.
---------------
One day two brothers bought a Chronovac 4.0. They experimented with it for fun until Kyle, oldest brother was invited to the corporate pool party. He want to impress his colleagues and needed to perfect swimsuit. Time before the party is up and his brother was home. So why not to capitalize it?
Poor Gabriel lay on the sofa in living room when Kyle fired him with a ray.
Gabriel was transformed into very nice pair of speedos which Kyle saw at AliExpress. His yells were mute for others and Kyle got a perfect suit. He would like to transform his brother back later.
He carefully examined his acquisition. There are was a bulge cup in a mesh pouch.
"Nice look Gabriel. You make a very cool swimsuit. I owe you a favor. Oh! I am in a rush!" Kyle undressed to his birthday suit and pulled up his former brother now speedos. He was covered in a film of sweat and was eager to go.
Gabriel cupped his ass and junk very nicely. Kyle was ready to go. He put on tight jeans and plunged speedos in darkness.
Later that day Kyle had a lot of fun time at the party. He was very pleased with his swimsuit. He totally forgot about his brother. More and more he drunk, more and more he forgot.
Kyle came home drunk, changed clothes and throwed his damp speedos in the bin. Next day speedos were washed by their mother while Kyle slept. It was a big wash because brother's parents are going to the vacation tonight. They washed all holiday outfits including swimsuits.
After all day on the sun, Gabriel was packed in suitcase by his own mother. Parents said goodbye to Kyle and left. They want to call Gabriel later unaware that younger son fly with them.
Father loved his new speedos. He wear them every day during all three weeks....
One day three nerds from my town asked me to fulfill their wet dream. They want to spend some time as some big bear's property while he wasn't aware of this. They preferred to be transformed together into single item of clothing and dropped at their new owner's door then transformed back.
I was very, very surprised with this order because they were straight. Seems like it was some sort of bet or sexual experiment for them. I got several weird suggestions for my magic abilities, but this one was rather kink and fun to try. Several hundred bucks were nice addition to it.
Soon I found them a perfect temporary owner. Nate was a nice guy who often visits same fitness center with me. One day he found a new pair of three-color speedos on a bench before his locker with a small note. He believed that one secret admirer bought him a sexy pair of underwear and willingly used it every day in sauna.
Initial plan was to snatch back my customers from him after a month, but Nate stopped his visits at the center after a two weeks. Administrator said that Nate got an invitation from the Singapore and moved there.
Well....
At least a can be sure that guys are in a good hands. Nate like to post himself in sexy poses at Tumblr, so his speedos are visible from time to time at these photos.
Seems like three-color swimsuit would spend a much more time with it's owner until his contract is over.
Team Jack and his soccer team [inanimate tf story 18+]
One sexy muscular soccer coach want to carry his university/college team at training session to another country. But funds were cut and team don’t have enough money for tickets and hotels. So coach want to transform all team and carry them on himself.
One day coach asked all of us to prepare for a long training session in a different town. He said us bring some stuff with ourselves and came to the base at 6a.m. for the bus. But when we came to the base we didn’t see any team transport. There are only taxi waiting for somebody.
We were met by our coach Jack. Famous person in our city, handsome and just a good person. He’s not tall but very muscular and a little bit hairy, short brown hair, and a neatly trimmed beard.
All team came into lockers while transport is’t arrive. More than 30 guys chatting and loafing around until coach came to us. He said that we are heading to the Italy at one of the best soccer bases. Jack said that we will spent more than two weeks there. And then he said that funds are cut and we are heading at one ticket. I know what he means. These tf-options. I came to realisation why there are no bus but taxi is here. He would shrink or transform us. But i heard that this kind of travels is illegal. Is’t it?
Coach grinned. “It’s only illegal if we get caught. And you will not be caught, no one will ever recognize you as human when I am traveling with you. So are you ready? This trip to Italy is a great opportunity for our team, we shouldn’t pass it up. So who will be transformed first?”
‘’But what about our stuff? We can’t move without gear and clothes!’’
‘’Don’t worry guys. I will transform you into inanimate things together with your bags. But to transform you into something, i need a sample. You need to give me a thing which you wanna be and i will make you into it but my size and type’’
‘’But coach, what if airline lose your bag? How you can leave us in your bag?’’
‘’No guys. Everything is much better. I will be watching you all the time during the flight.’’
‘’How?’’ - asked Mike, our goalkeeper.
‘’You will be my set of clothes during the travel of course!’’
‘’You’ll be wearing us?’’
‘’That’s right. No need to worry about getting lost. You’ll be close to me the whole time. As close as possible! I’ll take good care of you.’’
‘’I don’t know’’ - said Rob – ‘’it’s a bit weird.’’
‘’Yeah, but this trip!’’ - said Kevin – ‘’we can’t miss it!’’
‘’Anyway, we will be together in same positions. Hey, coach, start with me’’ - said Tony. He was our asian star in the team. He pulled out pair of black slim jeans and said – ‘’i want to be this.’’
Coach Jack grinned and said – ‘’Our first passenger is heading for a boarding. Do you wanna be aware or unaware while transformed until we arrive?’’
Tony thought about it, and looked down at Coach’s muscular legs and ass. –‘’I want to be aware. I’ve never been a pair of jeans before, I might as well learn what it feels like.’’
‘’Okay’’ - said coach Jack. He finished programming his phone and aimed it at Tony. Tony, his clothes, and his bag disappeared, and a pair of black jeans fell to the floor, a perfect fit for Coach. Coach picked up Tony and put him on top of his luggage, ready to put on his brand new jeans later.
‘’He can feel all that?’’ - asked Rob. ‘’Yes, he can! Because he asked to be conscious as jeans. Alright, who’s next?’’
‘’Thats still gross. I’m next until we can choose. Jack, make me just an unaware ring please. Make this end as soon as possible’’ - it was Monroe, our tall forward. He got his suitcase and showed a nice silver ring which he want to be.
Jack typed something in tfapp and Monroe fall at the floor as a tiny inanimate ring. Ring rolls to me and I picked it up to my friend Jeff face. Then I try it on his finger while all guys looking at us in awe
‘’You’d better give Monroe-ring to me, Jeff.’’ - said Coach. ‘’If you’re wearing him when you get transformed, it could get complicated to restore him later.’’
‘’Okay’’. - Jeff said. He took Monroe-ring off and passed him to Coach. Coach put Monroe-ring on his finger.
‘’Alright, who is next?’’
‘’I’ll go’’ - said Leo. He pulled a nice watch out of his bag. ‘’Make me like this’’.
‘’Aware or unaware?’’ Leo thought for a moment.
‘’Unaware makes me nervous. Aware, please.’’
Coach nodded and aimed his phone at Leo, who disappeared and was replaced by a nice watch lying on the floor. Coach picked him up and put him on his wrist.
‘’Next?’’
‘’We are!’’ - our twins, Nate and Liam came to Jack holding each a plain black sock. -‘’We want to be together so merge us with this. Unaware please.’’
‘’As you wish guys’’ - Jack pointed his phone at them and picked up his brand new socks. He dropped them on top of jeans.
‘’Me next!’’- I shout aloud. I decide to choose my form too until i can. I pull down my white spandex t-shirt from myself. – ‘’Here. I want you to wear me as this shirt.’’ Jack didn’t say anything and typed his size and fired me.
I floated to the floor, a white Spandex T-shirt. Jack grinned and picked me up. –
‘’I didn’t ask, but you were so eager I knew you wanted to be aware.’’ Coach pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular, hairy chest. He pulls me on, and I fit him perfectly, wrapping tight over his strong muscles. Only after my transformation I found out my mistake. I just wanted to be unaware shirt. Something what can’t be lost and something that no so disgusting. I was a hetero guy after all. But bi in my fantasies. I’ve never found our coach very attractive for me so this situation was a one big mess. When he put me on, i feel very embarrassed before whole team. What they would think about me? I was not eager! I just want to choose my form! Damn! They cant hear meeeee. Meanwhile I can hear Mike and Rob whispering and laughing, but I can’t quite hear what they’re saying.
‘’Okay!’’ - said Coach. – ‘’Next?’’
‘’I’ll go.’’ - said Kevin. He held out the gold chain we wore around his neck. –‘’Make me like this please. Unaware.’’’
Coach quickly used his phone, and Kevin fell to the floor with a small clink. Coach picked Kevin up and put him around his neck. –‘’Who’s next?’’
‘’What’s your phone model Jack? - asked Perry. –‘’Emmm. Galaxy? Why do you asking Perry?’’
‘’Make me into your phone case. This one. I have same phone model. Aware.’’ - he held a nice Nike branded silicone phone case.
‘’Nice idea Perry. Aaaaand done.’’ Perry was replaced with a phone case in a blink of an eye.
Jeff picked him up and said – ‘’So slick and nice.’’ He cant believe that this small thing is his friend and teammate. He run fingers over it’s back, wondering how it feels to him, but Coach holds out his hand, so Jeff give Perry-case to him, and he puts Perry on his phone.
‘’I’ll go.’’ - said Cameron. He held up his right arm, where he always wore a leather bracer. –‘’Make me like this, please. Aware.’’
‘’Okay, Cameron.’’ Coach used his phone, and Cameron was turned into a leather bracer, almost like Cameron had vanished, leaving his bracer behind. Coach picked Cameron up and put him on his wrist. –‘’You’re doing well, guys. Who’s next?’’
‘’Less and less items to choose. So i will be your belt. Hey guys, who wanna make me a company on Jack’s waist?’’ - it was Zack.
‘’Me. Let’s move together Zack’’ - said Carlos, our latino hunk. They stand together with their sport bags, holding some nice leather belt and buckle. – ‘’By the way. Fully aware please. I don’t want to pass this adventure being insentient’’ - Zack said. Carlos was shocked to hear this but he didn’t have time to say that he want to be unaware. After Zack’s words there was a nice brown belt with a big buckle on the floor. Jack placed them on top of his socks and jeans.
‘’I better go while I can still choose.’’ - said Mike. –‘’You need a jacket, make me like this one.’’ - Mike showed a nice, light jacket that would look good over me, his shirt. –‘’Don’t take me off and forget me! And unaware, please.’’ - said Mike. Coach smiled and programmed his phone, and soon Mike was drifting to the floor. Coach picked him up and put him on. He fit nicely over me.
My vision was limited when Mike was placed on top of me. I feel every move of Jack. I watch how guys volunteered for their transformations. No one is went away! All were eager to fly away with Jack as his possessions. This is surreal. What if somebody see us? What if something happen with Jack? I prefer not to think about it.
Meanwhile i see how Jeff chat with Nate - his best friend in team. I was curious what are they planning to do. They both look at Jack’s feet and pointed at me.
‘’Who’s next?’’ asked Coach.
‘’We’ll go, Coach.’’ - says Nate. He holds up a pair of sneakers. –‘’We’ll be your shoes.’’
Jeff said -‘’Aware, please.’’ Nate nods. Coach smiled and uses his phone, and in a second, Nate and Jeff are gone, and a pair of sneakers fall to the floor. They felt so strange! Unable to move. But not bad, kind of relaxing. But they both feel empty. Jeff felt how Coach picked up him and Nate up and put them both aside. I hope he will finish soon. Bith sneakers were eager to feel his foot inside! They are lusted after Coach Jack for a long time, but they didn’t think they will be getting close to him in this way!
‘’Alright, guys,’’ - said Jack – ‘’there’s still a lot more of you, and not many choices left. Who’s next?’’
‘’I don’t like this,’’ - said Rob. –‘’Can I be another ring, like Munroe?’’
Coach shook his head. –‘’Too many rings would be suspicious.’’
Rob frowned. –‘’Oh, you need a wallet right?’’
Coach nodded. –‘’Yes, you could replace my wallet.’’
‘’Okay, I’ll be a wallet, like this one. Unaware, please.’’ Coach grinned and used his phone. Rob disappeared, and a wallet fell to the floor. Coach took his money and cards out of his wallet, and put them into Rob, putting Rob-wallet on top of Tony-jeans so he wouldn’t forget him. –‘’Okay, who’s next?’’
‘’so. Somebody should be your underwear and i can be them.’’ - Said Vayne. – ‘’he pulled out plain white briefs from his bag but then three guys came to him and said that they want to be underwear too.
‘’I can’t wear four underwear at once boys. You should be something different.’’ –
‘’No Jack, i have a solution.’’ - one of guys show a pair of skimpy speedos.
‘’How it’s gonna help you four to be on me? Speedos counts as one pair’’
‘’Yeah. One pair. But it’s consist of several parts. One of us will be waist string, one will be mesh lining and two will be different-color parts. You see?’’
‘’But your pair is a three color one. You see? White, blue and red’’ Jack became curious. ‘’It may works’’
‘’Hmmm. We need one more guy to be a small white part. Who is wanna go with us?’’
‘’Me.’’ - said our newbie Brad.
‘’Ok. Let’s try it then!’’ - Jack said and spent a little time programming his phone for the transformation, while Vayne shook Brad’s hand and thanked him for helping. Suddenly all five men vanished, and a multi-colored Speedo fell to the floor.
‘’Sorry I forgot to ask,’’ - said Coach as he picked them up. –‘’I hope you don’t mind being aware for this.’’ Coach took off his jeans and underwear, and pulled on his 5-man Speedo, which hugged his muscular ass and thick cock tightly. –‘’Nice job, boys.’’ - said Coach, as he adjusted his cock and balls. The remaining men on the team stared at Coach, amazed.
Jack tied up speedo’s string in nice knot and cupped his bulge one more time. – ‘’What are you thinking boys? Think faster, my taxi is waiting for me outside.
‘’Our….I mean MY, flight leaves soon.’’
‘’Well. Pack me into your wallet’’ - Alex pulled out a packed condom from his pocket. -‘’I hope you will not use me. Unaware please, because this travel may be boring as hell in your wallet’’
‘’Sure Alex!’’ - snap and Jack picked up tiny rubber condom, wrapped in plastic. He shooved it in his wallet and looked back at remaining guys.
‘’Twenty one! 21 guys were reduced into nothing. Jack, are you sure it is safe?’’ - asked one of guys.
‘’Sure. I’ve tried this before several times. Relax guys. Soon we will be in Italy.’’ -Jack didn’t say that he never used tfapp before and was eager to try it on his whole team.
‘’Hmm.’’ -said Mark. –‘’A hat? Mark held up a baseball hat.’’
‘’Okay,’’ -said Coach.
‘’Don’t take me off and forget me! And unaware, please.’’ Coach clicked the app, and Mark fell to the ground as a hat. Coach picked him up and put him on.
‘’If we’re going to Italy, you’ll need sunglasses,’’ -said Rick, holding up a pair of sunglasses. –‘’Unaware, please. And don’t sit on me!’’ Coach smiled, and clicked the app. He caught Rick in the air before Rick could fall to the ground and get cracked. He put Rick on and looked around at the rest of the guys. –‘’Who’s next?’’
‘’Don’t tell anybody else. I don’t have much choices anyway. Fully unaware please. I don’t wanna know what you will do with it’’ - Gabe holds silicone cockring.
‘’Gabe, you are on board!’’ - Jack looked with a sly grin how wealthy and tall guy was shrinked into tiny sextoy. He picked up him and pulled down speedos pouch under his junk. –‘’There you are, my tiny friend. This is your flight seat. Nice and comfy. First class!’’ - he placed former human on his cock and balls and then snap back his colored underwear and with a new addition they bulged much more nicely.
The other guys looked on uncomfortably. They couldn’t believe what Gabe had done, that Gabe was wrapped around Coach’s cock now. Or that Alex was a condom in his wallet. –
‘’Come on, boys, you want to go to Italy, don’t you?’’
‘’But what is there left for us to be? I don’t have a butt plug.’’
‘’I have a butt plug,’’ - said Quentin, blushing. He held it up.
‘’I’ll be this, if you’re willing.’’
Coach nodded and started programming his phone, then looked at Quentin. Quentin blushed even harder. –
‘’Um, aware, please.’’ Coach grinned and clicked the app even as the other guys on the team gasped. Coach picked up the small Quentin-buttplug that had fallen to the ground, pulled down the back of his Speedo, and slipped Quentin into his ass with a satisfied grunt.
When speedos were back in place Jack stand up and frowned. ‘’So, there 9 of you here left. Look. I think we have some not so attractive options: - artificial teeth - tatoos - headphones - antiperspirant - some pills. I can even eat you and carry you inside of me. Or you guys have any ideas maybe?’’
‘’Oh, I’ll be a tattoo.’’ -said Keith, flexing his muscular arm, showing off the stylized dragon that twisted around it. –‘’Like this one. Unaware please.’’ Coach nodded, clicked the app, and suddenly Keith vanished, and Keith dragon tattoo appeared on Coach’s muscular arm. –
‘’We’ll be headphones,’’ -said Aaron, as Matt held up wireless earbuds. –‘’Just don’t lose us! And unaware, please.’’ Coach grinned, and soon Aaron and Matt were rolling across the floor. Coach picked them up and put them with his phone in its Perry-case.
‘’Coach. I want to be your lenses. Please make me one. But i don’t wear them.’’
‘’I can be your twin. Here, Jack. That’s a sample one’’ - Martinez held a brown-colored lenses. Swoosh… and Jack placed two more guys onto his body. Only four left. Jack want to leave as soon as possible and begin to dressed into his new possessions while last guys stand there shyly.
Jack put on his sentient jeans, buckled his belt and placed his inanimate wallet into pocket. Then he put on socks and wiggled his toes in them. – ‘’Yo boys! Two of you will be my insoles! Yeah. Come here.’’ - he rummaged in his bag and pulled out his favourite gel insoles. He gave them to the guys. – ‘’one question:Aware or unaware?’’
One of them frowned. –‘’ Unaware!’’
‘’Um’’ -said the other, blushing hard. –
‘’Aware for me.’’ The other guy turned to him, looking shocked, but he had no time to reply as they both fell to the floor, turned into insoles. Coach slipped one inside Nate and one into the sneakers, and then put them on. Finally Coach’s foot was filling Jeff and Nate, his weight pressing down into them. It felt so wonderful for them, like a relaxing massage. And to be so close to Coach was exciting! The last two guys looked nervously at Coach. –
‘’If you make us pills, won’t you digest us?’’
‘’Naah. I am afraid to eat you too. It may be dangerous. I have a best way of travel for you. What about teeth? You two will be my implants as eight upper teeth. Turk, you tell me that you visited dental clinic yesterday. So show me you implants and tell me aware or unaware?’’
‘’Aware. Look in my mouth. Here. Yeah. This is it’’
‘’Me too. We can see everything so it’s gonna be great opportunity for us.’’
‘’As you want guys….aaaaand now’’ - Jack said when he fired them. He barely catch them before they fell on the floor. Then he placed them in own upper jaw. They merged with it and became still. Only now Jack saw that he was alone in room. Whole team was on him, especially seven boys on his private parts. Only one of them was unaware while others were fully conscious while being his posessions. Jack unzipped his jeans fly and caressed his speedo-clad bulge.
‘’Great job, boys! I’m sure you will enjoy this trip. I know I will!’’ Coach packed up his things into his bag and hurried out to the taxi, wearing the whole team on his body. He put the headphone guys in his ears, turned on his music on his phone, his fingers caressing his Perry-case, tapping his foot in me as he relaxed in the taxi on the way to the airport.
Taxi drove fairly quickly through the empty streets to the airport. Very soon Jack was in the terminal. He passed the initial screening at the entrance to the airport as an ordinary passenger. Not a single person around, neither the taxi driver, nor the airport staff, nor other passengers suspected that this pleasant man was traveling not alone, but simultaneously with his entire team of wards.
Jack checked in for the flight. He got boarding ticket and had some time before the boarding. He left his bag at stall and plunged phones back into ears.
I spend the last hour as his shirt and enjoyed all these rubbings over his hairy chest. That was fun and boring at once. I was trying to communicate with others but I can’t hear them yet. Maybe something could change in our spell?
My friend Jeff enjoyed the hour as Coach Jack’s shoe. He was really turned on to be so close to this sexy man, crushed by his foot. So far he haven’t gotten bored yet. The quiet moments are just relaxing. And then Coach will walk somewhere, or tap his foot while he’s waiting, and he’ll be too turned on to be bored. I wish I could talk with Jess and Nate and hear if they are enjoying it as much as I am. Or the aware insole! I’m a little jealous of them. Maybe I’ll ask to be an insole or a sock next time, so I can be closer to Coach’s body. I wonder how all the other aware guys are feeling on Coach’s body. I remember hearing about a setting on the tfapp to let inanimate guys communicate with each other and/or the app (sending a text message to the wearer) when they’re nearby, but it seems Coach didn’t turn it on.
Coach walk around the terminal, spending his time. His brand new outfit feels great! All his stuff was awesome. Guys became a perfect fit. All of them, from shoes to hat or from buttplug and cockring to jacket were comfortable and perfect! He caressed them one after another. First, leather bracer and watch then artificial teeth and lenses. After that he touched sunglasses, jacket and shirt. Before that he looked carefully one more time his new phonecase. Yeah, cool stuff Indeed. When no one can see he plunged his hand under that denim and caressed himself over THERE. He felt his cockring and plug at their proper places. This belt and buckle were great too…. Soon he decided to pass TSA and border controls. He came to the security lines where saw how people were scanned with lie detector. Agents asked people if they carry something banned or carry transformed people. Jack became very afraid that he wouldn’t pass it. He must to do something until they asked him to come at scanning.
Then Jack remembered the memory settings on the TF app. As well as making guys unaware during their transformation, it could also temporarily suppress or permanently erase memories of transformation, or for a transformed guy erase his memories of being human. Maybe it could work with Jack’s memory of transforming the team! Then he could pass the security questions easily, even if the security agents became suspicious of his cockring or buttplug. Jack opened the app and quickly checked it. Yes, he could suppress his memories! But for how long? 12 hours should certainly cover the flight. But what if it was delayed and he had to answer security questions again? 24 hours would be safer. Surely he would be safely in Italy by then. Jack was getting close to the front of the line. He quickly pressed the button to suppress his memories for 24 hours. Jack started at his phone, dazed for a second. What had he been doing? A security agent came up to him, holding a tray. “Please put your phone and any other metal objects in the tray, sir,” he said to Jack.
Jack blinked several times trying to remember what he was thinking now. He can’t remember but he was asked to drop metallic stuff. Yeah. This travel to the Italy will be great! A lot of sun, historical towns and beaches! Hmmmm… With that peaceful thought he put his phone, pods, wallet and jacket into plastic container on the belt. He came into inspection frame and it’s was silent. Agent begin to pat him everywhere from top to down and nothing suspicious caught his attention. -You can take your stuff and pass to the next position.
Jack took all his things out of the tray, and put his jacket and hat and ring back on, hooking his glasses on me, his shirt. He stepped up to the next security agent. The agent seemed bored. Without even looking at Jack, he started talking.
“We are required by law to ask all passengers the following questions. Have you ever used TFApp?”
“Yes,” answered Coach. He’d loaded it onto his phone a while ago and experimented with it with some men he’d hooked up with, usually erasing their memories after. The agent looked up at Jack, suddenly serious. But Jack was calm. He had nothing to worry about.
“Are you carrying any transformed persons on yourself at this time?” Jack shook his head. “No.” The agent squinted at him.
“Have you accepted any bags from strangers that could contain transformed persons?”
“No.” The agent started at Jack for a while. But Jack was totally calm.
“Okay, you can go,” said the agent, bored again, waving Jack away.
When Jack passed TSA and border controls he said to himself: “Who ever be agreed to be transformed and packed in suitcase or being worn? Insane!” He turned on music again without warn about battery. Meanwhile his sentient possessions were worry about their fate. And after Jack’s last changes they were able to communicate with each other if they touched. Now, five speedo-souls can talk with each other and jeans. Jeans can communicate with shirt and shoes. Only teeth, bracer, phone case, buttplug, lenses and watch doesn’t have a company.
Jack walk around shops and markets until boarding was announced. Nothing interesting was here. When in plane, he sat in his aisle seat. Middle seat was occupied with a hot-looking tan italian guy in late 20’s. Jack noted to himself that he doesn’t mind to spend time with this guy.
During the flight, Jack struck up a conversation with the Italian guy, Gio. It turned out Gio lived the city where Jack would be staying, and he was happy to tell Jack all about it, the things that Jack should see, the restaurants that Jack should visit. The two men got along very well. Eventually Gio invited Jack to dinner with him, and Jack accepted. Sentient sneakers listened to Jack and Gio talked, getting turned on. Partly because of Coach’s tapping foot, but also because they were imagining Coach fucking Gio while they are and the rest of the team lay discarded on the floor, with Gio having no idea there was a whole soccer team in the room with them.
I was a little confused because I thought Jack was going to turn us back after we landed, but I figured he decided to wait until the next day, as there was only one hotel room. I knew the other guys would be angry, but I was enjoying myself.
After three hours of chatting, Jack stand up and came into lavatory. After closing the door, coach turned to the seat. He unbuckled and pulled down jeans, hooked up jacket and then caressed his speedo-clad ass.
‘’I don’t remember when i bought this lovely pair. Fits me well for this holidays!’’ He caressed his junk through the speedos and then pulled it down at last. Tight underwear fall on top of the jeans, leaving Jack naked. He played with cockring a bit and aimed himself into bowl. Flow of urine fills up a bowl and Jack wiped himself. When Jack pulled his sentient underwear up to the waist, he became stiff. He imagined a hot night with Gio and then his favourite fantasy - massive orgy with his team. So good that no one will never know about it. He begin to stroke himself, being half-dressed in jeans and speedos.
Coach closed his eyes and started mumbling to himself. “Ah, Mark, your cock feels so good in my ass… Jeff, your hole is so tight… Tony, your cock tastes so good.” I’m shocked. Is Coach fantasizing about us? His team? Doesn’t he know we can hear him? But fuck, is he really fantasizing about fucking my ass? He grinds his foot in sentient sneakers while he jerks his cock, almost like he’s fucking Jeff and Nate with his foot. They were so turned on, but I can’t help but wonder what the other aware members of the team are thinking right now, being on Coach’s body while he jerks off like this.
Guys in the front row of the show were amazed to hear such fantasies. Even guys who were dreaming about coach were surprised. Meanwhile, five membes of the speedos parts felt EVERYTHING. Jack stroked himself with them. Their stretchy bodies/body were in that masturbation rhythm. Droplets of precum soaked into their waistband and guys didn’t know how to react. Some parts of the speedos were disgusted but some parts were eager for continuation. More and more they cant divide themselves from each other. More and more Jack touched them, more and more they debate, the more they think as one mind - as Jack’s lovely swimsuit. Swimsuit wasn’t eager for cum but wasn’t against too. He just didn’t want to be dirty. He just wanted to serve his owner as a good underwear now.
As Coach jerked off faster, more and more precum dribbled into Swimsuit. making a noticeable wet spot on Swimsuit’s fabric. Swimsuit realized that if Swimsuit’s owner wanted him wet with precum, then that’s how he should be. Swimsuit started to crave the precum soaking into his fabric, wanting more, which Coach’s cock generously supplied. Meanwhile, Coach was mumbling out the names of other team members, talking about their cocks, asses, muscles. Coach’s left hand was grinding in me harder and harder as he got closer to climax. It was hard to keep track of all the team members he mentioned during his fantasy, I was so turned on. Coach started to sweat a little into my fabric. Finally, Coach came, shooting cum all over the mirror, his ass spasming around Quentin. All little bit of cum dripped down into Swimsuit, who eagerly soaked it up. After standing there panting for a little bit, Coach wiped off his dick and cleaned the mirror. He noticed he’d gotten a little cum on his Speedo, but he figured it would wash out when he went swimming.
He ticked back his softening cock into waiting pouch and zipped up jeans. He put on jacket back and shooved me under the belt. I was dumbfounded after this. I wondering how guys would talk about it. And what we gonna talk to unaware guys? Tell them that travel was boring and quiet or tell them everything?
‘’Hey! I don’t want to be stuck like this! Damn.. He shot me with a cum and now he treat me like an ordinary shirt. I am a person! Jack!’’
‘’He cant hear you, shirt’’
‘’Who are you?’’ - i said
‘’That’s me, speedo’’
‘’Errm… I thought there are should be five of you down there. Why are you call yourselves as a speedo, guys?’’ Meanwhile somebody knocked to the door and Jack came outside to the seat.
‘’Hey guys, you are able to talk? Its me, Tony! I am jeans here. Maybe Zack and Carlos are here too? Guys?’’’
‘’Yeah, we are here. It’s me, Zack the belt. But let me speak from us two, because our minds are merged slightly.’’
I was waiting for a answer from “Speedos”. They had to cradle Jack’s parts all the time and i was afraid for their mental health.
“No, there’s not five. I remember… some humans, some men, but I’m just Speedo now.”
“Just Speedo, what does that mean?” said Tony, as Coach’s leg muscles stretched him, sitting down. Coach grinned at Gio and continued their conversation.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m a Speedo. I cover Coach’s ass and hold his cock and balls.”
“Yeah, and I help hold Coach’s jeans… I mean, Tony, up. But I’m Zack! I’m not ‘belt’!”
“that’s what i talk about! This is my purpose after all. I am wondering, why do you have these human names? I will call you as "Shirt”, “Belt”, “Jeans”. Owner doesn’t like when clothes doesn’t serve well.“
"What? I am not shirt! I am a man! You can’t call me that!”
“But you are shirt! You are made to cover his chest and shoulders from the sun. Shut up and be a good wear, Shirt” All members of the chat were silent. I thought that guys set some kind of a bad joke. Speedos? “Call me Speedo”?! This is ridiculous.
But then i understand that Zack speak strange too. What does he mean when he said about that “merging” with a buckle?
“Alright, guys, calm down,” said Tony. “Things are obviously a little weird right now, but Coach will change us back soon. Well, eventually. In the meantime, it’s no good yelling at each other.”
“It’s a little scary, though,” said Zack. “Carlos and I are already feeling our minds merge a bit, it’s tough to keep our thoughts separate. Do you think that’s what happened to Vayne and Brad and them? Are me and Carlos going to start calling ourselves 'Belt’ and forgetting our human lives? We just wanted to go to Italy to train and maybe have an interesting ride on the way there, but this is… weird.”
“Let’s wait a bit until Coach gonna act normal. I don’t know why he is treating us like this. He act like we are not exist here. Seems like he totally forgot about us. Otherwise i can’t describe what happened in toilet.” said Belt, i mean Zack. Shit, i start to call him a Belt! This is not good. Then we all became still.
Meanwhile, under the front seat, Jack crossed his legs and Jeff met you sneaker buddy. They are able to talk with each other and gel insole.
Jeff hear something almost like a voice when Coach crosses his feet. “Nate?” Jeff ask, “is that you?”
“Jeff! Yes, it’s me, we’re finally touching and can talk!”
“Oh, that’s how this works?”
“Yes, I’ve been talking to Tyler a lot!”
“Tyler, your insole? Can Tyler hear me?”
“Hi, Jeff, yes, I can now.”
“Oh wow, tell me, how is it as Coach’s insole?”
“I…” said Tyler.
“Come on, Ty, you call tell Jeff, it’s okay,” said Nate. ‘’I could almost feel Tyler blushing.’’
“Coach’s foot feels so good.”
“That’s so cool! I’m a little jealous of you as his insole, you get to be closer to his foot. But I’m really happy as his shoe!”
“Oh man,” said Nate, “me too! I almost don’t want to change back for practice!”
“Same here,” Jeff said.
“Me too,” admitted Tyler.
“But Coach is acting really strange, don’t you think?” asked Nate. “Jerking off in the bathroom while wearing us, saying all our names! The straight guys must be so shocked! The ones who are aware, anyway.”
“Yeah, I don’t understand what Coach is doing,” Jeff say. “But I’m so happy being his shoe right now.”
“Yeah, it’s all I can think about,” said Nate. “I’m Coach’s shoe. I’m Coach’s shoe.”
“Nice to meet you, Shoe,” Jeff joked. “I’m also Shoe!”
“Hi, Shoes. I’m Insole,” said Tyler, finally relaxing.
“Guys, you can’t be both just some mundane "Shoes” - said Tyler. For him it was a joke now - “you should be Leftie and Righty. Otherwise i will not be able to divide you.’ Haha. Am i right, Leftie-Jeff and Righty-Nate?” –
‘’Sure, my gelly friend. Haha. Hey, Lefty, how its going when Coach wiggle his toes?“
More and more they call themselves as items, more they associated themselves with it. First it was a joke but soon it became serious for all of them.
"Unfortunately our sock friends are silent. They missing all fun here!’’ - said Insole.
"Haha, too, bad, because they miss out on Coach’s wiggling toes. They feel so good, right, Righty?”
“Yes!” said Right Shoe. “I love it when his toes wiggle! Like… ooh, just then!” Coach and Gio were laughing about something, and he shifted his feet and wiggled his toes.
“Ahhhh,” said Insole. “Insole has it the best!”
“Lucky Insole!”
“Haha, he all work together, to take care of Coach’s feet,” said Insole. “Yeah, that’s what Shoes and Insoles do, right, Leftie?”
“Haha, that name is a little annoying. You can use my real name, Shoe. I mean… Shoe. Wait, is that my name? I’m… Coach’s Shoe. Yeah, that’s my name. Left Shoe. Sorry, I got confused there.”
“It’s okay, Left Shoe,” said Right Shoe, “I know how distracting it is having Coach’s feet in us all day.’’
"Especially when he… ahhhhh… wiggles his toes!” said Insole.
Meanwhile Jack had a nice talk with Gio while his phone keep playing the music. –
‘’Oh. My battery is dead. Shit, how i am suppi to found my hotel?’’
‘’Don’t worry, pal! I will help you got there. Then you will drop your stuff there before we go around the town. There are a lot of sightseeings!’’
They chat all flight along. They have a lot of common to each other. Gio was a fitness coach too. He set a lot of sessions at the beach. Jack talk him about his team. He was unaware that whole team was on him, so he tell about them just as his far away work.
Nicholas was standing in the arrivals area at the airport of a Caribbean island. He and his friends planned an unforgettable and coolest trip of all time. Nicolas arrived two days early because there was cheap ticket, and at the same time he found a great bungalow for everyone. Where he will be accommodated, the girls and three guys. In general, their whole party of six people. The bungalow was right on the beach. Small but decent house.
The plane had already landed and Nicholas was waiting to see some of the familiar faces. He wondered if they had taken tickets for all five, or how last time someone would fly in alone, and the rest with him, but in a slightly modified form. Chronovac was not yet very popular, and very few people knew about it. But in the company of guys, Mike a year ago suggested that everyone try various harmless transformations. And since then, the use of this magical application has made all the meetings of the six different from each other.
For example, one day Lizzy came home and found five of her clones at home, dressed in the same clothes. An innocent prank turned into a hot orgy in an hour. Or Denis’s proposal to arrange a bodybuilding competition, as a result of which the friends split into two triples and three merged together, leaving two hot muscular men at home ready for experiments.
There were other experiments, for example with the transformation into clothes. So, Nicholas got ready for a run one morning and put on his favorite sneakers, lycra shorts and some athletic briefs under them. Having run out into the street, the guy did not understand why he was experiencing terrible scabies. His feet itched, his ass itched and, most uncomfortable, his penis and balls itched too. He already had time to think that he had contracted a skin disease and urgently returned home. He pulled off his clothes and threw everything at once into the washing machine, and he himself went to take a shower and make an appointment with the doctor. After a shower, nothing itched. He pulled wet sneakers, socks, shorts and briefs out of the washer and before he could carry them to the dryer, he almost fell from the sudden weight. Of the five items in the pelvis, five of his friends were right in front of him. It was one of the craziest pranks ever. His friends decided to turn themselves into his running gear just to have fun with him! They soaked up his sweat, smelled and rubbed against his private parts only to intentionally irritate his skin with scabies. It was incredible, creepy, but at the same time extremely cool and funny in the end. Nicholas was offended at first, but then, along with the others, he likes to remember this joke.
Today he stood in the arrivals area and waited for someone to come out. Will it be Mike carrying his friends as a credit cards in a wallet? Or will it be Lizzy and Amber, while Mike, Tom and Denis will be their suitcases? Or maybe they decide to shrunk and Tom will carry his four friends through a 10-hour flight in his pants, sandwiched between a dick and a tight fabric? Or will Denis fulfill his lifelong dream and turn Lizzy and Amber into one sock and Tom and Denis into another? In general, there were so many options that it was impossible to count. In these erotic fantasies, Nicholas did not notice how almost all the passengers got off the plane. The last of them were coming out through the doors, two extended families held back by children, and a handsome, fit guy with bronzed tan and sunglasses. Nicholas only had time to think about why such a handsome man had such a huge suitcase, as this guy looked around at those who met him, spotted Nicholas and went straight to him.
“Good afternoon. Can you tell me where to find a good bungalow for six people? I am here for the first time. Never been at islands. You know. ”
Nicholas was a little taken aback by the appeal and at first did not understand the hint and prepared to answer, but then he stopped and took a closer look. No, it’s definitely not one of his friends. He went through passport control, and no one has fake documents for such a guy. Or are they really his friends?
The stranger saw the confusion in his eyes and laughed.
“Yes, you guessed right! I’ve arrived, Nicholas! I’m glad to see you! Are you glad to see your friend Gio?”. The guy hugged Nicholas and they happily patted each other on the shoulders.
“Eeemm. I already thought you weren’t coming on that flight. But by the way … and who are you? Well, that is, now I realized that I met my …. Friend… But yesterday, who were you from our company?”
“And this, my friend, is a big secret! I’ll tell you when we get to your bungalow. But I’m very hungry. We will stop by a restaurant on the way. The food on the plane was disgusting. I’ll eat a serving for five!” Gio said and they moved to the exit of the terminal side by side with Nicholas as old friends.
“But are the others even with you? What did you turn them into? Glasses? Your shirt? Nicholas asked with a little chuckle.
“What are the others? What are you talking about?“ Gio put his finger to his lips and said "Shhh”. He winked and continued walking forward.
Nicholas stopped for a second, letting Gio go ahead. It was definitely one of his friends. And he certainly brought the rest with him. But such acting was the first time in their adventures. It was something new and definitely exciting. Nicholas looked at the guy walking forward. He was wearing black trousers and a black shirt, and he was pushing a large suitcase behind him. And Nicholas decided to play along with Gio in this scene. Because it was so funny! Some of his possessions are his friends, silently fulfilling their role. And this Gio is also one of his friends! Quiet Lizzy or jock Tom? Maybe it was Mike? The guessing game promised to make this day not boring.
Nicholas came out of his stupor and began to catch up with Gio, who had gone to the terminal doors
“Wait, Gio! You’ll be roasted in black clothes! Moreover, I came here not by taxi, but by moped!”
Team Jack and his soccer team [inanimate tf story 18+]
One sexy muscular soccer coach want to carry his university/college team at training session to another country. But funds were cut and team don’t have enough money for tickets and hotels. So coach want to transform all team and carry them on himself.
One day coach asked all of us to prepare for a long training session in a different town. He said us bring some stuff with ourselves and came to the base at 6a.m. for the bus. But when we came to the base we didn’t see any team transport. There are only taxi waiting for somebody.
We were met by our coach Jack. Famous person in our city, handsome and just a good person. He’s not tall but very muscular and a little bit hairy, short brown hair, and a neatly trimmed beard.
All team came into lockers while transport is’t arrive. More than 30 guys chatting and loafing around until coach came to us. He said that we are heading to the Italy at one of the best soccer bases. Jack said that we will spent more than two weeks there. And then he said that funds are cut and we are heading at one ticket. I know what he means. These tf-options. I came to realisation why there are no bus but taxi is here. He would shrink or transform us. But i heard that this kind of travels is illegal. Is’t it?
Coach grinned. “It’s only illegal if we get caught. And you will not be caught, no one will ever recognize you as human when I am traveling with you. So are you ready? This trip to Italy is a great opportunity for our team, we shouldn’t pass it up. So who will be transformed first?”
‘’But what about our stuff? We can’t move without gear and clothes!’’
‘’Don’t worry guys. I will transform you into inanimate things together with your bags. But to transform you into something, i need a sample. You need to give me a thing which you wanna be and i will make you into it but my size and type’’
‘’But coach, what if airline lose your bag? How you can leave us in your bag?’’
‘’No guys. Everything is much better. I will be watching you all the time during the flight.’’
‘’How?’’ - asked Mike, our goalkeeper.
‘’You will be my set of clothes during the travel of course!’’
‘’You’ll be wearing us?’’
‘’That’s right. No need to worry about getting lost. You’ll be close to me the whole time. As close as possible! I’ll take good care of you.’’
‘’I don’t know’’ - said Rob – ‘’it’s a bit weird.’’
‘’Yeah, but this trip!’’ - said Kevin – ‘’we can’t miss it!’’
‘’Anyway, we will be together in same positions. Hey, coach, start with me’’ - said Tony. He was our asian star in the team. He pulled out pair of black slim jeans and said – ‘’i want to be this.’’
Coach Jack grinned and said – ‘’Our first passenger is heading for a boarding. Do you wanna be aware or unaware while transformed until we arrive?’’
Tony thought about it, and looked down at Coach’s muscular legs and ass. –‘’I want to be aware. I’ve never been a pair of jeans before, I might as well learn what it feels like.’’
‘’Okay’’ - said coach Jack. He finished programming his phone and aimed it at Tony. Tony, his clothes, and his bag disappeared, and a pair of black jeans fell to the floor, a perfect fit for Coach. Coach picked up Tony and put him on top of his luggage, ready to put on his brand new jeans later.
‘’He can feel all that?’’ - asked Rob. ‘’Yes, he can! Because he asked to be conscious as jeans. Alright, who’s next?’’
‘’Thats still gross. I’m next until we can choose. Jack, make me just an unaware ring please. Make this end as soon as possible’’ - it was Monroe, our tall forward. He got his suitcase and showed a nice silver ring which he want to be.
Jack typed something in tfapp and Monroe fall at the floor as a tiny inanimate ring. Ring rolls to me and I picked it up to my friend Jeff face. Then I try it on his finger while all guys looking at us in awe
‘’You’d better give Monroe-ring to me, Jeff.’’ - said Coach. ‘’If you’re wearing him when you get transformed, it could get complicated to restore him later.’’
‘’Okay’’. - Jeff said. He took Monroe-ring off and passed him to Coach. Coach put Monroe-ring on his finger.
‘’Alright, who is next?’’
‘’I’ll go’’ - said Leo. He pulled a nice watch out of his bag. ‘’Make me like this’’.
‘’Aware or unaware?’’ Leo thought for a moment.
‘’Unaware makes me nervous. Aware, please.’’
Coach nodded and aimed his phone at Leo, who disappeared and was replaced by a nice watch lying on the floor. Coach picked him up and put him on his wrist.
‘’Next?’’
‘’We are!’’ - our twins, Nate and Liam came to Jack holding each a plain black sock. -‘’We want to be together so merge us with this. Unaware please.’’
‘’As you wish guys’’ - Jack pointed his phone at them and picked up his brand new socks. He dropped them on top of jeans.
‘’Me next!’’- I shout aloud. I decide to choose my form too until i can. I pull down my white spandex t-shirt from myself. – ‘’Here. I want you to wear me as this shirt.’’ Jack didn’t say anything and typed his size and fired me.
I floated to the floor, a white Spandex T-shirt. Jack grinned and picked me up. –
‘’I didn’t ask, but you were so eager I knew you wanted to be aware.’’ Coach pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular, hairy chest. He pulls me on, and I fit him perfectly, wrapping tight over his strong muscles. Only after my transformation I found out my mistake. I just wanted to be unaware shirt. Something what can’t be lost and something that no so disgusting. I was a hetero guy after all. But bi in my fantasies. I’ve never found our coach very attractive for me so this situation was a one big mess. When he put me on, i feel very embarrassed before whole team. What they would think about me? I was not eager! I just want to choose my form! Damn! They cant hear meeeee. Meanwhile I can hear Mike and Rob whispering and laughing, but I can’t quite hear what they’re saying.
‘’Okay!’’ - said Coach. – ‘’Next?’’
‘’I’ll go.’’ - said Kevin. He held out the gold chain we wore around his neck. –‘’Make me like this please. Unaware.’’’
Coach quickly used his phone, and Kevin fell to the floor with a small clink. Coach picked Kevin up and put him around his neck. –‘’Who’s next?’’
‘’What’s your phone model Jack? - asked Perry. –‘’Emmm. Galaxy? Why do you asking Perry?’’
‘’Make me into your phone case. This one. I have same phone model. Aware.’’ - he held a nice Nike branded silicone phone case.
‘’Nice idea Perry. Aaaaand done.’’ Perry was replaced with a phone case in a blink of an eye.
Jeff picked him up and said – ‘’So slick and nice.’’ He cant believe that this small thing is his friend and teammate. He run fingers over it’s back, wondering how it feels to him, but Coach holds out his hand, so Jeff give Perry-case to him, and he puts Perry on his phone.
‘’I’ll go.’’ - said Cameron. He held up his right arm, where he always wore a leather bracer. –‘’Make me like this, please. Aware.’’
‘’Okay, Cameron.’’ Coach used his phone, and Cameron was turned into a leather bracer, almost like Cameron had vanished, leaving his bracer behind. Coach picked Cameron up and put him on his wrist. –‘’You’re doing well, guys. Who’s next?’’
‘’Less and less items to choose. So i will be your belt. Hey guys, who wanna make me a company on Jack’s waist?’’ - it was Zack.
‘’Me. Let’s move together Zack’’ - said Carlos, our latino hunk. They stand together with their sport bags, holding some nice leather belt and buckle. – ‘’By the way. Fully aware please. I don’t want to pass this adventure being insentient’’ - Zack said. Carlos was shocked to hear this but he didn’t have time to say that he want to be unaware. After Zack’s words there was a nice brown belt with a big buckle on the floor. Jack placed them on top of his socks and jeans.
‘’I better go while I can still choose.’’ - said Mike. –‘’You need a jacket, make me like this one.’’ - Mike showed a nice, light jacket that would look good over me, his shirt. –‘’Don’t take me off and forget me! And unaware, please.’’ - said Mike. Coach smiled and programmed his phone, and soon Mike was drifting to the floor. Coach picked him up and put him on. He fit nicely over me.
My vision was limited when Mike was placed on top of me. I feel every move of Jack. I watch how guys volunteered for their transformations. No one is went away! All were eager to fly away with Jack as his possessions. This is surreal. What if somebody see us? What if something happen with Jack? I prefer not to think about it.
Meanwhile i see how Jeff chat with Nate - his best friend in team. I was curious what are they planning to do. They both look at Jack’s feet and pointed at me.
‘’Who’s next?’’ asked Coach.
‘’We’ll go, Coach.’’ - says Nate. He holds up a pair of sneakers. –‘’We’ll be your shoes.’’
Jeff said -‘’Aware, please.’’ Nate nods. Coach smiled and uses his phone, and in a second, Nate and Jeff are gone, and a pair of sneakers fall to the floor. They felt so strange! Unable to move. But not bad, kind of relaxing. But they both feel empty. Jeff felt how Coach picked up him and Nate up and put them both aside. I hope he will finish soon. Bith sneakers were eager to feel his foot inside! They are lusted after Coach Jack for a long time, but they didn’t think they will be getting close to him in this way!
‘’Alright, guys,’’ - said Jack – ‘’there’s still a lot more of you, and not many choices left. Who’s next?’’
‘’I don’t like this,’’ - said Rob. –‘’Can I be another ring, like Munroe?’’
Coach shook his head. –‘’Too many rings would be suspicious.’’
Rob frowned. –‘’Oh, you need a wallet right?’’
Coach nodded. –‘’Yes, you could replace my wallet.’’
‘’Okay, I’ll be a wallet, like this one. Unaware, please.’’ Coach grinned and used his phone. Rob disappeared, and a wallet fell to the floor. Coach took his money and cards out of his wallet, and put them into Rob, putting Rob-wallet on top of Tony-jeans so he wouldn’t forget him. –‘’Okay, who’s next?’’
‘’so. Somebody should be your underwear and i can be them.’’ - Said Vayne. – ‘’he pulled out plain white briefs from his bag but then three guys came to him and said that they want to be underwear too.
‘’I can’t wear four underwear at once boys. You should be something different.’’ –
‘’No Jack, i have a solution.’’ - one of guys show a pair of skimpy speedos.
‘’How it’s gonna help you four to be on me? Speedos counts as one pair’’
‘’Yeah. One pair. But it’s consist of several parts. One of us will be waist string, one will be mesh lining and two will be different-color parts. You see?’’
‘’But your pair is a three color one. You see? White, blue and red’’ Jack became curious. ‘’It may works’’
‘’Hmmm. We need one more guy to be a small white part. Who is wanna go with us?’’
‘’Me.’’ - said our newbie Brad.
‘’Ok. Let’s try it then!’’ - Jack said and spent a little time programming his phone for the transformation, while Vayne shook Brad’s hand and thanked him for helping. Suddenly all five men vanished, and a multi-colored Speedo fell to the floor.
‘’Sorry I forgot to ask,’’ - said Coach as he picked them up. –‘’I hope you don’t mind being aware for this.’’ Coach took off his jeans and underwear, and pulled on his 5-man Speedo, which hugged his muscular ass and thick cock tightly. –‘’Nice job, boys.’’ - said Coach, as he adjusted his cock and balls. The remaining men on the team stared at Coach, amazed.
Jack tied up speedo’s string in nice knot and cupped his bulge one more time. – ‘’What are you thinking boys? Think faster, my taxi is waiting for me outside.
‘’Our….I mean MY, flight leaves soon.’’
‘’Well. Pack me into your wallet’’ - Alex pulled out a packed condom from his pocket. -‘’I hope you will not use me. Unaware please, because this travel may be boring as hell in your wallet’’
‘’Sure Alex!’’ - snap and Jack picked up tiny rubber condom, wrapped in plastic. He shooved it in his wallet and looked back at remaining guys.
‘’Twenty one! 21 guys were reduced into nothing. Jack, are you sure it is safe?’’ - asked one of guys.
‘’Sure. I’ve tried this before several times. Relax guys. Soon we will be in Italy.’’ -Jack didn’t say that he never used tfapp before and was eager to try it on his whole team.
‘’Hmm.’’ -said Mark. –‘’A hat? Mark held up a baseball hat.’’
‘’Okay,’’ -said Coach.
‘’Don’t take me off and forget me! And unaware, please.’’ Coach clicked the app, and Mark fell to the ground as a hat. Coach picked him up and put him on.
‘’If we’re going to Italy, you’ll need sunglasses,’’ -said Rick, holding up a pair of sunglasses. –‘’Unaware, please. And don’t sit on me!’’ Coach smiled, and clicked the app. He caught Rick in the air before Rick could fall to the ground and get cracked. He put Rick on and looked around at the rest of the guys. –‘’Who’s next?’’
‘’Don’t tell anybody else. I don’t have much choices anyway. Fully unaware please. I don’t wanna know what you will do with it’’ - Gabe holds silicone cockring.
‘’Gabe, you are on board!’’ - Jack looked with a sly grin how wealthy and tall guy was shrinked into tiny sextoy. He picked up him and pulled down speedos pouch under his junk. –‘’There you are, my tiny friend. This is your flight seat. Nice and comfy. First class!’’ - he placed former human on his cock and balls and then snap back his colored underwear and with a new addition they bulged much more nicely.
The other guys looked on uncomfortably. They couldn’t believe what Gabe had done, that Gabe was wrapped around Coach’s cock now. Or that Alex was a condom in his wallet. –
‘’Come on, boys, you want to go to Italy, don’t you?’’
‘’But what is there left for us to be? I don’t have a butt plug.’’
‘’I have a butt plug,’’ - said Quentin, blushing. He held it up.
‘’I’ll be this, if you’re willing.’’
Coach nodded and started programming his phone, then looked at Quentin. Quentin blushed even harder. –
‘’Um, aware, please.’’ Coach grinned and clicked the app even as the other guys on the team gasped. Coach picked up the small Quentin-buttplug that had fallen to the ground, pulled down the back of his Speedo, and slipped Quentin into his ass with a satisfied grunt.
When speedos were back in place Jack stand up and frowned. ‘’So, there 9 of you here left. Look. I think we have some not so attractive options: - artificial teeth - tatoos - headphones - antiperspirant - some pills. I can even eat you and carry you inside of me. Or you guys have any ideas maybe?’’
‘’Oh, I’ll be a tattoo.’’ -said Keith, flexing his muscular arm, showing off the stylized dragon that twisted around it. –‘’Like this one. Unaware please.’’ Coach nodded, clicked the app, and suddenly Keith vanished, and Keith dragon tattoo appeared on Coach’s muscular arm. –
‘’We’ll be headphones,’’ -said Aaron, as Matt held up wireless earbuds. –‘’Just don’t lose us! And unaware, please.’’ Coach grinned, and soon Aaron and Matt were rolling across the floor. Coach picked them up and put them with his phone in its Perry-case.
‘’Coach. I want to be your lenses. Please make me one. But i don’t wear them.’’
‘’I can be your twin. Here, Jack. That’s a sample one’’ - Martinez held a brown-colored lenses. Swoosh… and Jack placed two more guys onto his body. Only four left. Jack want to leave as soon as possible and begin to dressed into his new possessions while last guys stand there shyly.
Jack put on his sentient jeans, buckled his belt and placed his inanimate wallet into pocket. Then he put on socks and wiggled his toes in them. – ‘’Yo boys! Two of you will be my insoles! Yeah. Come here.’’ - he rummaged in his bag and pulled out his favourite gel insoles. He gave them to the guys. – ‘’one question:Aware or unaware?’’
One of them frowned. –‘’ Unaware!’’
‘’Um’’ -said the other, blushing hard. –
‘’Aware for me.’’ The other guy turned to him, looking shocked, but he had no time to reply as they both fell to the floor, turned into insoles. Coach slipped one inside Nate and one into the sneakers, and then put them on. Finally Coach’s foot was filling Jeff and Nate, his weight pressing down into them. It felt so wonderful for them, like a relaxing massage. And to be so close to Coach was exciting! The last two guys looked nervously at Coach. –
‘’If you make us pills, won’t you digest us?’’
‘’Naah. I am afraid to eat you too. It may be dangerous. I have a best way of travel for you. What about teeth? You two will be my implants as eight upper teeth. Turk, you tell me that you visited dental clinic yesterday. So show me you implants and tell me aware or unaware?’’
‘’Aware. Look in my mouth. Here. Yeah. This is it’’
‘’Me too. We can see everything so it’s gonna be great opportunity for us.’’
‘’As you want guys….aaaaand now’’ - Jack said when he fired them. He barely catch them before they fell on the floor. Then he placed them in own upper jaw. They merged with it and became still. Only now Jack saw that he was alone in room. Whole team was on him, especially seven boys on his private parts. Only one of them was unaware while others were fully conscious while being his posessions. Jack unzipped his jeans fly and caressed his speedo-clad bulge.
‘’Great job, boys! I’m sure you will enjoy this trip. I know I will!’’ Coach packed up his things into his bag and hurried out to the taxi, wearing the whole team on his body. He put the headphone guys in his ears, turned on his music on his phone, his fingers caressing his Perry-case, tapping his foot in me as he relaxed in the taxi on the way to the airport.
Taxi drove fairly quickly through the empty streets to the airport. Very soon Jack was in the terminal. He passed the initial screening at the entrance to the airport as an ordinary passenger. Not a single person around, neither the taxi driver, nor the airport staff, nor other passengers suspected that this pleasant man was traveling not alone, but simultaneously with his entire team of wards.
Jack checked in for the flight. He got boarding ticket and had some time before the boarding. He left his bag at stall and plunged phones back into ears.
I spend the last hour as his shirt and enjoyed all these rubbings over his hairy chest. That was fun and boring at once. I was trying to communicate with others but I can’t hear them yet. Maybe something could change in our spell?
My friend Jeff enjoyed the hour as Coach Jack’s shoe. He was really turned on to be so close to this sexy man, crushed by his foot. So far he haven’t gotten bored yet. The quiet moments are just relaxing. And then Coach will walk somewhere, or tap his foot while he’s waiting, and he’ll be too turned on to be bored. I wish I could talk with Jess and Nate and hear if they are enjoying it as much as I am. Or the aware insole! I’m a little jealous of them. Maybe I’ll ask to be an insole or a sock next time, so I can be closer to Coach’s body. I wonder how all the other aware guys are feeling on Coach’s body. I remember hearing about a setting on the tfapp to let inanimate guys communicate with each other and/or the app (sending a text message to the wearer) when they’re nearby, but it seems Coach didn’t turn it on.
Coach walk around the terminal, spending his time. His brand new outfit feels great! All his stuff was awesome. Guys became a perfect fit. All of them, from shoes to hat or from buttplug and cockring to jacket were comfortable and perfect! He caressed them one after another. First, leather bracer and watch then artificial teeth and lenses. After that he touched sunglasses, jacket and shirt. Before that he looked carefully one more time his new phonecase. Yeah, cool stuff Indeed. When no one can see he plunged his hand under that denim and caressed himself over THERE. He felt his cockring and plug at their proper places. This belt and buckle were great too…. Soon he decided to pass TSA and border controls. He came to the security lines where saw how people were scanned with lie detector. Agents asked people if they carry something banned or carry transformed people. Jack became very afraid that he wouldn’t pass it. He must to do something until they asked him to come at scanning.
Then Jack remembered the memory settings on the TF app. As well as making guys unaware during their transformation, it could also temporarily suppress or permanently erase memories of transformation, or for a transformed guy erase his memories of being human. Maybe it could work with Jack’s memory of transforming the team! Then he could pass the security questions easily, even if the security agents became suspicious of his cockring or buttplug. Jack opened the app and quickly checked it. Yes, he could suppress his memories! But for how long? 12 hours should certainly cover the flight. But what if it was delayed and he had to answer security questions again? 24 hours would be safer. Surely he would be safely in Italy by then. Jack was getting close to the front of the line. He quickly pressed the button to suppress his memories for 24 hours. Jack started at his phone, dazed for a second. What had he been doing? A security agent came up to him, holding a tray. “Please put your phone and any other metal objects in the tray, sir,” he said to Jack.
Jack blinked several times trying to remember what he was thinking now. He can’t remember but he was asked to drop metallic stuff. Yeah. This travel to the Italy will be great! A lot of sun, historical towns and beaches! Hmmmm… With that peaceful thought he put his phone, pods, wallet and jacket into plastic container on the belt. He came into inspection frame and it’s was silent. Agent begin to pat him everywhere from top to down and nothing suspicious caught his attention. -You can take your stuff and pass to the next position.
Jack took all his things out of the tray, and put his jacket and hat and ring back on, hooking his glasses on me, his shirt. He stepped up to the next security agent. The agent seemed bored. Without even looking at Jack, he started talking.
“We are required by law to ask all passengers the following questions. Have you ever used TFApp?”
“Yes,” answered Coach. He’d loaded it onto his phone a while ago and experimented with it with some men he’d hooked up with, usually erasing their memories after. The agent looked up at Jack, suddenly serious. But Jack was calm. He had nothing to worry about.
“Are you carrying any transformed persons on yourself at this time?” Jack shook his head. “No.” The agent squinted at him.
“Have you accepted any bags from strangers that could contain transformed persons?”
“No.” The agent started at Jack for a while. But Jack was totally calm.
“Okay, you can go,” said the agent, bored again, waving Jack away.
When Jack passed TSA and border controls he said to himself: “Who ever be agreed to be transformed and packed in suitcase or being worn? Insane!” He turned on music again without warn about battery. Meanwhile his sentient possessions were worry about their fate. And after Jack’s last changes they were able to communicate with each other if they touched. Now, five speedo-souls can talk with each other and jeans. Jeans can communicate with shirt and shoes. Only teeth, bracer, phone case, buttplug, lenses and watch doesn’t have a company.
Jack walk around shops and markets until boarding was announced. Nothing interesting was here. When in plane, he sat in his aisle seat. Middle seat was occupied with a hot-looking tan italian guy in late 20’s. Jack noted to himself that he doesn’t mind to spend time with this guy.
During the flight, Jack struck up a conversation with the Italian guy, Gio. It turned out Gio lived the city where Jack would be staying, and he was happy to tell Jack all about it, the things that Jack should see, the restaurants that Jack should visit. The two men got along very well. Eventually Gio invited Jack to dinner with him, and Jack accepted. Sentient sneakers listened to Jack and Gio talked, getting turned on. Partly because of Coach’s tapping foot, but also because they were imagining Coach fucking Gio while they are and the rest of the team lay discarded on the floor, with Gio having no idea there was a whole soccer team in the room with them.
I was a little confused because I thought Jack was going to turn us back after we landed, but I figured he decided to wait until the next day, as there was only one hotel room. I knew the other guys would be angry, but I was enjoying myself.
After three hours of chatting, Jack stand up and came into lavatory. After closing the door, coach turned to the seat. He unbuckled and pulled down jeans, hooked up jacket and then caressed his speedo-clad ass.
‘’I don’t remember when i bought this lovely pair. Fits me well for this holidays!’’ He caressed his junk through the speedos and then pulled it down at last. Tight underwear fall on top of the jeans, leaving Jack naked. He played with cockring a bit and aimed himself into bowl. Flow of urine fills up a bowl and Jack wiped himself. When Jack pulled his sentient underwear up to the waist, he became stiff. He imagined a hot night with Gio and then his favourite fantasy - massive orgy with his team. So good that no one will never know about it. He begin to stroke himself, being half-dressed in jeans and speedos.
Coach closed his eyes and started mumbling to himself. “Ah, Mark, your cock feels so good in my ass… Jeff, your hole is so tight… Tony, your cock tastes so good.” I’m shocked. Is Coach fantasizing about us? His team? Doesn’t he know we can hear him? But fuck, is he really fantasizing about fucking my ass? He grinds his foot in sentient sneakers while he jerks his cock, almost like he’s fucking Jeff and Nate with his foot. They were so turned on, but I can’t help but wonder what the other aware members of the team are thinking right now, being on Coach’s body while he jerks off like this.
Guys in the front row of the show were amazed to hear such fantasies. Even guys who were dreaming about coach were surprised. Meanwhile, five membes of the speedos parts felt EVERYTHING. Jack stroked himself with them. Their stretchy bodies/body were in that masturbation rhythm. Droplets of precum soaked into their waistband and guys didn’t know how to react. Some parts of the speedos were disgusted but some parts were eager for continuation. More and more they cant divide themselves from each other. More and more Jack touched them, more and more they debate, the more they think as one mind - as Jack’s lovely swimsuit. Swimsuit wasn’t eager for cum but wasn’t against too. He just didn’t want to be dirty. He just wanted to serve his owner as a good underwear now.
As Coach jerked off faster, more and more precum dribbled into Swimsuit. making a noticeable wet spot on Swimsuit’s fabric. Swimsuit realized that if Swimsuit’s owner wanted him wet with precum, then that’s how he should be. Swimsuit started to crave the precum soaking into his fabric, wanting more, which Coach’s cock generously supplied. Meanwhile, Coach was mumbling out the names of other team members, talking about their cocks, asses, muscles. Coach’s left hand was grinding in me harder and harder as he got closer to climax. It was hard to keep track of all the team members he mentioned during his fantasy, I was so turned on. Coach started to sweat a little into my fabric. Finally, Coach came, shooting cum all over the mirror, his ass spasming around Quentin. All little bit of cum dripped down into Swimsuit, who eagerly soaked it up. After standing there panting for a little bit, Coach wiped off his dick and cleaned the mirror. He noticed he’d gotten a little cum on his Speedo, but he figured it would wash out when he went swimming.
He ticked back his softening cock into waiting pouch and zipped up jeans. He put on jacket back and shooved me under the belt. I was dumbfounded after this. I wondering how guys would talk about it. And what we gonna talk to unaware guys? Tell them that travel was boring and quiet or tell them everything?
‘’Hey! I don’t want to be stuck like this! Damn.. He shot me with a cum and now he treat me like an ordinary shirt. I am a person! Jack!’’
‘’He cant hear you, shirt’’
‘’Who are you?’’ - i said
‘’That’s me, speedo’’
‘’Errm… I thought there are should be five of you down there. Why are you call yourselves as a speedo, guys?’’ Meanwhile somebody knocked to the door and Jack came outside to the seat.
‘’Hey guys, you are able to talk? Its me, Tony! I am jeans here. Maybe Zack and Carlos are here too? Guys?’’’
‘’Yeah, we are here. It’s me, Zack the belt. But let me speak from us two, because our minds are merged slightly.’’
I was waiting for a answer from “Speedos”. They had to cradle Jack’s parts all the time and i was afraid for their mental health.
“No, there’s not five. I remember… some humans, some men, but I’m just Speedo now.”
“Just Speedo, what does that mean?” said Tony, as Coach’s leg muscles stretched him, sitting down. Coach grinned at Gio and continued their conversation.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m a Speedo. I cover Coach’s ass and hold his cock and balls.”
“Yeah, and I help hold Coach’s jeans… I mean, Tony, up. But I’m Zack! I’m not ‘belt’!”
“that’s what i talk about! This is my purpose after all. I am wondering, why do you have these human names? I will call you as "Shirt”, “Belt”, “Jeans”. Owner doesn’t like when clothes doesn’t serve well.“
"What? I am not shirt! I am a man! You can’t call me that!”
“But you are shirt! You are made to cover his chest and shoulders from the sun. Shut up and be a good wear, Shirt” All members of the chat were silent. I thought that guys set some kind of a bad joke. Speedos? “Call me Speedo”?! This is ridiculous.
But then i understand that Zack speak strange too. What does he mean when he said about that “merging” with a buckle?
“Alright, guys, calm down,” said Tony. “Things are obviously a little weird right now, but Coach will change us back soon. Well, eventually. In the meantime, it’s no good yelling at each other.”
“It’s a little scary, though,” said Zack. “Carlos and I are already feeling our minds merge a bit, it’s tough to keep our thoughts separate. Do you think that’s what happened to Vayne and Brad and them? Are me and Carlos going to start calling ourselves 'Belt’ and forgetting our human lives? We just wanted to go to Italy to train and maybe have an interesting ride on the way there, but this is… weird.”
“Let’s wait a bit until Coach gonna act normal. I don’t know why he is treating us like this. He act like we are not exist here. Seems like he totally forgot about us. Otherwise i can’t describe what happened in toilet.” said Belt, i mean Zack. Shit, i start to call him a Belt! This is not good. Then we all became still.
Meanwhile, under the front seat, Jack crossed his legs and Jeff met you sneaker buddy. They are able to talk with each other and gel insole.
Jeff hear something almost like a voice when Coach crosses his feet. “Nate?” Jeff ask, “is that you?”
“Jeff! Yes, it’s me, we’re finally touching and can talk!”
“Oh, that’s how this works?”
“Yes, I’ve been talking to Tyler a lot!”
“Tyler, your insole? Can Tyler hear me?”
“Hi, Jeff, yes, I can now.”
“Oh wow, tell me, how is it as Coach’s insole?”
“I…” said Tyler.
“Come on, Ty, you call tell Jeff, it’s okay,” said Nate. ‘’I could almost feel Tyler blushing.’’
“Coach’s foot feels so good.”
“That’s so cool! I’m a little jealous of you as his insole, you get to be closer to his foot. But I’m really happy as his shoe!”
“Oh man,” said Nate, “me too! I almost don’t want to change back for practice!”
“Same here,” Jeff said.
“Me too,” admitted Tyler.
“But Coach is acting really strange, don’t you think?” asked Nate. “Jerking off in the bathroom while wearing us, saying all our names! The straight guys must be so shocked! The ones who are aware, anyway.”
“Yeah, I don’t understand what Coach is doing,” Jeff say. “But I’m so happy being his shoe right now.”
“Yeah, it’s all I can think about,” said Nate. “I’m Coach’s shoe. I’m Coach’s shoe.”
“Nice to meet you, Shoe,” Jeff joked. “I’m also Shoe!”
“Hi, Shoes. I’m Insole,” said Tyler, finally relaxing.
“Guys, you can’t be both just some mundane "Shoes” - said Tyler. For him it was a joke now - “you should be Leftie and Righty. Otherwise i will not be able to divide you.’ Haha. Am i right, Leftie-Jeff and Righty-Nate?” –
‘’Sure, my gelly friend. Haha. Hey, Lefty, how its going when Coach wiggle his toes?“
More and more they call themselves as items, more they associated themselves with it. First it was a joke but soon it became serious for all of them.
"Unfortunately our sock friends are silent. They missing all fun here!’’ - said Insole.
"Haha, too, bad, because they miss out on Coach’s wiggling toes. They feel so good, right, Righty?”
“Yes!” said Right Shoe. “I love it when his toes wiggle! Like… ooh, just then!” Coach and Gio were laughing about something, and he shifted his feet and wiggled his toes.
“Ahhhh,” said Insole. “Insole has it the best!”
“Lucky Insole!”
“Haha, he all work together, to take care of Coach’s feet,” said Insole. “Yeah, that’s what Shoes and Insoles do, right, Leftie?”
“Haha, that name is a little annoying. You can use my real name, Shoe. I mean… Shoe. Wait, is that my name? I’m… Coach’s Shoe. Yeah, that’s my name. Left Shoe. Sorry, I got confused there.”
“It’s okay, Left Shoe,” said Right Shoe, “I know how distracting it is having Coach’s feet in us all day.’’
"Especially when he… ahhhhh… wiggles his toes!” said Insole.
Meanwhile Jack had a nice talk with Gio while his phone keep playing the music. –
‘’Oh. My battery is dead. Shit, how i am suppi to found my hotel?’’
‘’Don’t worry, pal! I will help you got there. Then you will drop your stuff there before we go around the town. There are a lot of sightseeings!’’
They chat all flight along. They have a lot of common to each other. Gio was a fitness coach too. He set a lot of sessions at the beach. Jack talk him about his team. He was unaware that whole team was on him, so he tell about them just as his far away work.
