Master's Collection: Follows the master along as he collects men into his harem and his plans for them.
The Gargareans: Explores the new world order of gay supremacy, where gay men are bless with super human ability to enslave straight men and more. (Omegaverse Inspired)
All Hail The Wizard: Sets in the medieval time, in the kingdom completely under the wizard's paw.
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Stand Alone Stories
Stand Alone Stories: Pretty self explanatory, Stories that complete in one post and have no connection to others.
I knew I'd struck gold when I met my boyfriend Aaron.
I had a habit of falling for straight acting masculine guys. Those deeply closeted "bros" who think hitting the gym somehow makes them less queer.
Aaron was very far removed from my usual type. He wasn't effeminate, but he wasn't aggressively macho or constantly posturing either. He was always quick with a smile, a hug, a kiss... and I loved it.
But after a while, I realized there was still one thing I was missing.
See, the reason I kept ending up with those big buff jerks is because... I just love muscular guys.
At one point, I'd been at my wit's end trying to get an ex to stop treating me like shit all the time, and I'd downloaded this whole bunch of hypnotism stuff. I made him a few files with some simple suggestions... problem was, he thought it was "too gay" to listen to something like that.
I'm not sure what I thought would happen, but on a whim, I made some files for Aaron too. I made sure to keep his personality intact - because, after all, I love him - but I threw in some suggestions to eat healthy, start going to the gym, and focus on prioritising fitness.
A couple of months in, and my sweet boy had packed on 20 odd pounds of muscle. He'd started picking me up, and on one very memorable occasion he actually pinned me to the bed before showering me with kisses.
I was planning to stop there. Even that little change made him my perfect guy. But then Aaron said something that changed my mind.
Aaron told me it made him feel closer to me, having my voice in his ear while he was at the gym, that he felt so safe drifting off listening to me.
I knew I should probably come clean and tell him that I'd been using them to hypnotise him, but... well, first of all, it sounds ridiculous, and second... I was scared of how he'd react.
So instead of doing the right thing and telling him the truth, I made him a new set of files. I really liked how he'd started being more confident, so I gave him some boosters for that. I also made him focus more on lifting and on bulking up, telling him he enjoyed getting bigger for me, that he loved feeling like my big buff protector.
And look, maybe I overdid it. Aaron took to the new instructions like a fish to water, and within a couple months he'd already outgrown his wardrobe. Again.
But I couldn't stop. I was enamoured with this enormous guy he'd grown into, so sweet and gentle with me and so imposing and burly otherwise.
Eventually, I reached a breaking point, and I told him the truth. But... look, I couldn't risk him getting scared and ending things, okay? So just in case, I put in a small suggestion in the files, telling him that maybe he liked being hypnotised, and maybe he got aroused by the thought of me moulding his body.
So when my sweet Aaron told me he'd scored some back alley supplements from a guy at the gym, gave me his best puppy dog eyes - despite the hulking bod and scruffy beard - and asked me to make him a new set of files and help him get HUGE... I couldn't say no.
We've just celebrated our anniversary, and the mountain of muscle that throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and lumbers around from how wide his thighs have gotten is nothing like the cute boy I fell for. You'd be forgiven for thinking he's one of those closeted guys who pump themselves up with mass since they're scared of looking queer.
Except underneath all the excess bulk, body hair, and testosterone, it's still Aaron underneath it all. Just as lovely and as sweet as he was back when he was nearly 200 pounds lighter.
You and your boyfriend had long been looking for ways to spice things up. You had tried some role playing, but he hadn’t quite gotten into it. So, when you saw a YouTube channel with video series on role playing tips, you sent the link to him. He texted back about 30 minutes later, saying he had watched the introduction, asking if you had anything in specific he should go for. You thought a slower could be nice, so you sent him the series for “Confidence, Fur, and Dom Instructions.”
“Yes Sir.” was his reply. Not a great start.
Around 4, a car you didn’t recognize pulled into the driveway. Out stepped a man who you didn’t know. You thought it just may be a contractor, until he walked right in and pinned you against the wall.
“Honey, I’m home. Fuck I missed you.”
Your boyfriend’s shirt was instantly off, showing off his new pelt. His arms easily picked you up as he carried you to the bedroom. Pinned under his weight, you could only give into him as his beard scratched against you with every kiss, working his was down your neck, over your chest and stomach. In one move he pulled your legs up and pressed his cock against your hole. It wasn’t long before you could feel his bush against your skin.
“Fuck, it hurts. Slow down!”
“Yeah? I thought you loved being dominated. Here, maybe this will help”
He shoved his pit in your face, still sweaty from the day’s work. Instantly, your mind was consumed by the scent. Your hole loosened a little, your mind was completely blank as you were consumed by love and pleasure. Slowly, you started to moan.
“That’s right, just take it. You’re all mine now. I’ve got to start you on a series next. Would be nice to have a bro to workout with in the day and fuck all night. You’ll love it babe. You’ll be hypnotized by this cock…”
And that was the last you remember as your mind swam in the sweat, sex, and smell of your new top.
The pull had become impossible to resist. Kyle returned to The Onyx Lounge just a few days after his first night, already craving that godlike feeling of total control once more.
Richard spotted him the moment he stepped inside. The prosecutor didn’t look surprised. “The currency is addictive, isn’t it? Someone is waiting for me in the lounge. Interested in joining?”
Kyle felt a sharp spike of anticipation. He nodded.
Richard led him upstairs. The heavy door opened, and Kyle’s breath caught.
Kneeling in the center of the room was Andre Santos, one of the most famous Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu fighters in the world. Shirtless, his powerful, sweat-glistened body on full display. Thick, muscular thighs spread wide, lacy black garters digging into the dense muscle. A sheer thong struggled to contain his heavy, completely shaven cock and balls. A matching harness framed his broad, hairy chest. A thick black gag stretched his jaw, drool trailing down his chin. The moment Andre saw Richard, his dark eyes filled with pure, eager devotion.
Richard removed the gag and stroked the fighter’s shaved head possessively. “My favorite toy. Andre, this is Kyle. Make him happy tonight.”
Andre crawled forward at once and pressed his face against Kyle’s crotch, nuzzling hungrily. “Yes, Sir.”
Kyle froze for a brief second, but Andre was skilled. He mouthed Kyle through his pants with warm, expert pressure until Kyle’s cock hardened and any hesitation burned away. Kyle gripped the fighter’s head and let him pull his cock free.
They didn’t waste time.
Richard took Andre’s mouth, sliding his thick cock between those eager lips while Kyle moved behind and pushed into the fighter’s tight hole. Andre moaned loudly around Richard’s shaft, his powerful body rocking between them like a perfect slut. The delicate black lingerie looked obscene stretched across all that muscle.
“Fuck, you’re getting better,” Richard slapped Andre’s cheek, then he paused, “Oh right, speaking of the permanent conversion…”
Richard continued between thrusts, voice rough. “Stack 60 full hours on the same man within 30 days… and he becomes yours forever, just like Andre here. I let him keep his life, his career, blah blah… but deep inside, he now lives to serve me.”
Andre pulled off Richard’s cock for a moment, gasping desperately, “Sir… own me… I’m yours…”
Richard’s face darkened with irritation. He shoved his cock back down the fighter’s throat in one rough motion. “Who the fuck gave you permission to speak?” he growled, voice cold and dripping with absolute dominance. He started fucking Andre’s face harder, punctuating his command with each thrust, “You don’t speak unless I tell you to, bitch.”
Andre’s eyes watered but shone with even deeper submission, gagging wetly as Richard disrespected him without mercy.
Kyle watched coldly as he reached down and stroked Andre’s leaking cock through the soaked thong. “Any other way?”
Richard smiled, still brutally using Andre’s mouth. “Well, you can trade a hundred bills for an Emerald Coin from the owner…” he clicked his tongue, “instant ownership.”
The three of them settled into a sweaty, filthy rhythm. Kyle pounded Andre’s ass while Richard continued to abuse his throat, then they switched. Kyle took the fighter’s throat, gripping his head and driving deep while Richard railed him from behind. They used him hard, slapping his muscular ass, tugging the harness roughly, making the world-class athlete choke and moan like a cheap whore.
When they finally came, they pulled out and painted Andre’s tongue and hairy chest with thick ropes of cum. Andre swallowed greedily, eyes glazed with devotion, his own cock spurting untouched into the ruined lingerie.
Kyle wiped his cock slowly on the fighter’s beard, breathing hard, looking down at the broken Andre. He didn't speak.
After hours and hours on end staring at the spiral, letting the flashing words enter his subconscious and endlessly edging turning that mind of his into mush one word popped up on the screen
CUM
Jake’s mind shattered into pieces as his body convulsed and pushed a bit spurt of cum onto his chest. With each spurt he felt the last bits of his mined being pushed away, shot out to never be found again. Jake isn’t Jake anymore, he’s a totally blank slate now to be moulded to his sirs will
There is a liberating, total surrender in letting my mind completely melt under the heat of the sun. Stripped of distractions, wrapped in the sleek, compression shorts, become pure, streamlined energy. The warmth bakes away the noise, leaving only a sharp, rhythmic focus on the physical realm.
Every muscle feels primed, locked into a state of absolute compliance and peak performance. There is a profound, submissive joy in this discipline—offering up every ounce of my effort, stamina, and presence to Coach's vision. Under that blazing sky, completely molded by the heat and the instruction, finding my ultimate purpose in pushing boundaries and executing the objective flawlessly.
You want want to be in this state. Evolved to embrace this feeling of sun and relax after a good workout
He has a simple life. Lift big, eat like a bull, fuck you like crazy, think about it when he's not, and he loves it, it's a simple life for a simple minded himbo.
Dating these two stupid bulls is awesome, eating like crazy, all three competing to see who dominates, fucking many times everyday, it all ending with you three cuddled up in bed while the whole room smells like pure testosterone, it's bull heaven.
As Jace woke from trance, he reached his hand down his pants to realize that his cock was gone. As he went to ask for it back, the only words he could say were, “Thank you Master for taking my cock away. Only your cock matters” as he fell to his knees prepared to worship his Master’s mighty cock.
The highway patrol officer has no memory of spending his weekends as a leather gigolo. being used and abused for money, money that he turns over at the end of each weekend. He only remembers having a great weekend and is energized to start his week off right, on duty as an officer and off duty eating right and exercising, looking forward to his next weekend. Such is his life since his "older" neighbor moved in next door and started to teach him "mind relaxation" exercises.
“You are so beautiful,” the small little nerd kissed the bodybuilder’s tattooed pecs. “And completely under my control.”
“It feels so good to obey you,” the once dominant alpha stud moaned.
The nerd gripped the bodybuilder’s large bulge through the thin shorts.
“Fuck, feel good,” the bodybuilder moaned. “Please fuck me.”
The nerd smirked, “that’s a good little boy.”
“Please,” the helpless steroid stud groaned.
The bodybuilder lifted his massive legs and pulled off his shorts, revealing his four inch hard cock. The nerd smirked as he stopped stroking his newest slave. He then undid his pants and pulled out his 10” cock. He positioned himself between the powerful legs, as the bodybuilder pulled his legs up to his chest, exposing his smooth rosebud hole.
“What a nice musclepussy,” the nerd aimed his massive cock at his hole.
“I need your cock. I need your cock to grow. Please fuck me.”
He never wanted to attend this new private school all of his friends had joined. He felt it very strange that one by one his friends would disappear for days and then return on the weekend with an entirely different attitude. Always talking of obedience and how all men should appeal to a high standard of prep. That was before his friends had convinced him to stop by the school to see what he’s been missing. Before his meeting with the principal. Before hours of endless brainwashing and a new wardrobe change. New polished haircut and attitude adjustment. He would attend the school with his friends and serve the principal. Maybe his brothers would come visit soon.
"Oh, hey!" the worker calls, shuffling over with recognition in his voice, "It's you..."
I don't immediately react.
At 5:00am, there shouldn't be anyone calling except for bar buddies confirming I made it home. Still, something about this grunt's face does seem familiar, but surely I would recall a friend as assertive as him, especially when he's abandoning three other similarly hi-vis clad workmates. He doesn't seem bothered at all to walk away from his job. Only eager to see me.
"...sir," he grins with a nod, fishing a billfold out of his pocket, "I've got $58 in my wallet. All the money on me is yours, sir. Is now a good time for me to suck your dick?" He wipes the drool off of his chin with the back of his hand.
So that's how we know each other!
I must've hypnotized him...
Before he can drop to his knees in the middle of the street, I slap his back and guide the dopey hunk away from his coworkers, forcing a laugh like we actually are old friends.
"Keep it down," I hush in panic, "You want the rest of your crew to hear?"
"Sir, I don't care if the guys hear," he assures me with pride, "I'm your cocksucking ATM, sir."
I park him on the other side of the street, away from the other workmen, and take a moment to study the complacent face staring back at me. He looks handsome, masculine, though a bit dumb. That could just be the result of my trance. Still, I don't recall a session where I turned this bluecollar hunk into my very own cocksucking ATM!
"What's your name?"
"My name is Bitch-Dad McLaborTits," he says.
I roll my eyes, more at myself than at him. I had obviously hypnotized him to believe that was his name while he was under.
"Your real name..." I exhale, "The name your colleagues over their call you." I gesture over at the men he'd walked away from. They seem to have gone back to collecting garbage for the moment, hopefully none the wiser.
"Oh...well, they call me Brian, sir," he says with a furrowed brow, unable to make sense of it.
"Okay, Brian, when did you realize you were my...um...cocksucking ATM?"
"Only just now, sir," he explains, pointing back across the street, "When I saw your face, I realized a lot of things. You are a real man, a god even. I am just something that can serve you, in my own way, sir," his hand extends the wad of cash out to me again, "Nothing else matters before I saw you..."
"Shit man, I really did a number on you."
"What, sir?"
"Nothing," I shake my head and snatch his $58 dollars, shoving it into my pocket, "But we've met before. Think, Brian. When did we meet?"
Brian, or Bitch-Dad, scowls as he thinks, which is probably difficult in this state. I'd help him, but for the life of me, I don't remember doing all this to this poor man's mind. Could I have really been so careless with my abilities?
"I remember," he lights up, "It was about a year ago, sir. Maybe more than that. And it was around this time of night too because me and the guys were just starting a shift..."
"Go on..."
"Yes, sir," he averts his eyes nervously, "Well, I believe you were stumbling down the street with a bottle in your hand. I went to go check on you and then..."
"Wait," I jump in, "Are you about to say I hypnotized you while I was blackout drunk?!"
"Yes, sir. That's what you did." He smiles.
I slap my forehead, already feeling a hangover. Last year, I was going through a dark time and had a bit of a drinking problem. I thought I'd left that chapter behind me, but the past is standing right in front of me in an identical scenario. At least tonight I'm not blackout...
"Ok," I groan, "So I hypnotized you while I myself was barely conscious, and left a trigger for you to become my ATM sex-toy the next time you saw me. Is that it?"
"Well, no sir," he admits, smiling "You pissed yourself, so you had me leave work and carry you back to your place, so I could bathe you and do your laundry for you."
"Fuck," I sigh, cringing at myself, "So I had you clean me up and then released you?"
"No, sir," he goes on, "You fucked me in the ass. You named me Bitch-Dad McLaborTits because those were your favorite things about me, and then you threw up on my head while I had your dick in my mouth. Then you passed out after telling me to leave and forget it ever happened. So that's what I did, sir. At least, until you made me remember..."
Fuck, I truly am the worst.
"So, then what?"
"Well, I'm not sure," he scratches his chin, "I walked outside and forgot all about you. Just went back to being Brian, sir. And Brian was really confused why he wasn't at work with dried throw-up all over his head..."
I shudder at the thought of what Brian went through because of me that day...
"Alright, Bitch-Dad. I'm going to wake you out of this trance," I move on, "But first let's find a restroom or something for you to blow me..."
"Yes, sir!"
And just like that, this burly garbage collector is eagerly guiding me down the street with a thick arm around my back. Unfortunately, I can see why drunk-me went for this guy. He's got a sort of boyish charm that goes well with being a sleeper sex/money slave.
Hopefully his crew doesn't get too pissed off that he quit hauling garbage cans with them for the last 20 minutes.
Hopefully Brian's not too confused when he wakes up with a sore jaw and no memory.
Hopefully his family doesn't need that $58 dollars in cash.
Hopefully I can practice some restraint next night out.
Some guys want to be transformed. And some guys, like Andrew?
They need it.
The college student spent every waking moment obsessing over himself, or rather, who he needed to be. His tall, slim frame, which would've been more than enough for most guys, left him wanting, well, needing, so much more.
He wanted the same short, dark hair that sprouted from his head to cover every inch of his body: a thick, bristly beard and a trail from his chest down, and down, and down. Enough hair to trap all that sweat from the gym and brew it into a rich, deep, manly musk.
And he wanted there to be more inches of him, more thick, corded muscle bulging underneath his skin covered in all that hair.
He knew what he needed: Big, dumb, hairy, musky, sweaty, manly.
The thought crept into his head during every lecture, every study session, every late night spent cramming for an exam.
His mind wandered, and so did his hands, touching and tracing and stroking and pumping to the thought…
Big, dumb, hairy, musky, sweaty, manly.
"Can you help me?"
I don't know what he had in mind by help, but he got it.
I can't count how many of protein shakes I crammed down his throat, or the number of supplements and vitamins and minerals for muscle and hair growth I packed into each I made him slurp down.
He started cutting class (my idea, well, order).
I don't know if there was a formula, but I can tell you his grades slipped further and further with each extra pound he benched in the gym. He stopped thinking, and just started being.
He was such a good bro, and the way his face lit up when his chest hair started coming in? Perfection. And when he told me he was dropping out? Words can't describe it.
I pushed him hard and fast, and he obeyed better than I could have expected.
And now Andrew's big, dumb, hairy, musky, and sweaty. He's a man.
He thinks he's dominant, and around other bros? Oh, he's the alpha wolf. But around me…?
Chase tried and failed to infiltrate HIMBOCo’s newest gym. His friend went missing there over a month and he was determined to find him. Sadly, Chase was instantly captured and had mind altering AirPods shoved into his ears. Now, he is just another mindless himbo in training.
Hypno Dumpster @hypnodumpster - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
