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One of the football jocks gave me a strange secret Santa present. It was one of the highschool jearseys and a pair of football cleats?? When he gave them to me he was drenched in sweat , dropping wet, and smelled strongly,

What's even stranger is I think he gave me his own cleats and jersey? Or he tried them on? BC both items smelled like him, maybe he was short on time?

I've neglected to do anything about them, as they just lay in my dorm still in the box, but for some reason, I can't get the picture of that sweaty, stinky muscular man out of my head

You stare at the box as you angrily stomp down the road. How did he know? Did he know? There’s no way he could have seen, unless some passerby saw and told him… which wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibility. Either way, you are not amused. If anything this “white elephant gift” seems more like a threat than anything else. So as you arrive at the athletic dorm, you get to Jabari’s door and start pounding away.

“Jabari! Open the door.” You hear the loud music pause, and hear the football players heavy footfalls approaching. As the door swings open, you’re met with Jabari’s smug, unimpressed expression. Standing shirtless in the doorway with a joint out of his mouth.

“The fuck do you want?” He spits out at you before looking at the giant box in your hands, shitty wrapping paper barely clinging to it. He smirks. “What, bro? You didn’t like your present?” He opens the door, inviting you in.

“No. I didn’t fucking like the present.” You look around the hallway, slinking into Jabari’s room unseen. The disastrously messy room stank of weed and the familiar stink that wafts from the box in your arms. You open the box, hit with somehow still wet funk pouring from the cardboard vessel. Dumping the contents onto the floor, you grimace at the sight of the stinking cleats, practice Jersey, and cumstained cheesy jockstrap sitting on the carpet. “This supposed to be funny?” Jabari leans against the counter, crossing his socked size 15 feet and staring at you with a knowing look.

“It was funny to me, bro. Had to trade names a few times before I got yours. I thought you’d like em.” He took another drag of the joint, blowing a puff of smoke in your face. You angrily swipe the cloud away, standing your ground.

“I don’t fucking like them. So I’m returning them.” You turn to leave, but before you so much as take a step, you feel Jabari’s calloused hand firmly gripping your shoulder.

“Nah, man. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He pushes you to your knees with little effort, right in front of the cleats. “The way I hear it, you really into this shit. Mine in particular gets you off.” Your face so close the cleats, you can’t stop yourself from breathing in that heavy stench. If he’d ever washed them, it was certainly years ago. “I got eyes everywhere, bruh.” You struggle against his grip.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but…” Jabari pushes your head forward even more, the tip of your nose slowly approaching the off white fabric of the cleat.

“Nah, man. I know what you do after every practice. You think you’re slick comin round and huffin my sneaks outside that door, huh? I thought you’d like a lil piece of me at home.” He presses your face firmly into the cleat, enough that you feel the damp grimy insole on your skin. “We don’t need some fuckin foot freak up in here jackin it to our smell while we chillin inside.”

You hold your breath as long as you can but you can only hold out so long. Your lungs spasm, and you take in a full whiff of Jabari’s foot funk. The sweat and grime of endless games and even more practices, all percolating and coagulating into one atomic bomb of stink. He’s right- your clandestine nightly activities must have been noticed despite your carefulness. He gives you a moment of respite as he releases his grip on your head, allowing you to pull your face out of the smelly cavern. You stare with insurmountable embarrassment at the cleats before you.

They sit there, inundated in the jock studs sweat. In a quieter, lonely moment alone, you’d be far more comfortable burying your nose into them. But with Jabari looming above you with a scowl on his face, so full of disdain and contempt… caught red handed, you feel nothing but shame.

“Strip. Now.” You feel your face flush pale white. Your breath gets caught in your throat, rendering you barely able to speak much more than at a whisper.

“Jabari… listen. I won’t do it again.” You try to turn to face him, only to get his socked foot pressed firmly onto the side of your face, pushing it right back toward the cleats. The smell is so fresh in the damp black socks, it has a different feel to it. The cleats, the trainers, they’ve been marinating for years in that stink. This is the source, and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined.

“I said fucking strip, bruh.” You feel his meaty fingers grasp ahold of the fabric of your shirt, and with a single movement he tears it in two. “I’m tired as fuck of all y’all freaks huffin my straps and kicks when I’m not looking. Fantasizing bout me railin your dumbass. That ain’t consent, bro.” He rips your shoes and socks off your feet, tearing your shorts off as you sit there mortified.

“I wasn’t thinking! I’m sorry! You won’t have to see me again, I’ll leave you alone and you’ll forget I even exist!” Jabari puts his sweaty foot right onto your back, pushing you down to the ground, reminding you very clearly who it is that is in charge.

“Yeah you right. I’m not gonna see your ass again- I won’t even remember you. Now, put it on.” You twist your head one more time to look at him, just for him to plant that foot on your face, pushing it right back toward the cleats, jersey, and jockstrap. “All of it, bitch. Quick.” He claps his hands loudly, and you instinctively grasp the jersey, slipping it over your shoulders and letting it drape like curtains over your smaller frame. It hangs from your shoulders, almost pooling at your knees as you kneel.

“Come on, Jabari. This shit is weird as fuck. Just let me go home I won’t bother yo…” You’re unable to finish your sentence as he shoves his sweaty socks into your mouth, silencing you quickly as he holds the jockstrap in front of your face. You stifle your urge to sniff it, one last act of defiance before he slips the damp jock up your legs. You shudder at the warm wetness that surrounds your groin, the fetid taste of Jabari’s socks filling your mouth, groaning in euphoric anticipation for whatever he has planned for you. You feel the dank cleats being shoved onto your feet, the squish of his sweat and foot grime pressing onto your soles before they’re tightened and the grime surrounds your entire foot.

“There you go, bruh. It’s your fantasy right? Bein like Jabari, smellin’ like Jabari, lookin’ like Jabari…” His hand wraps around your neck, as he drags you toward his closet. He opens the door, his clothes getting pushed out of the way as your body starts to shiver and quake. “Imma let you marinate for a while, bruh. Let you take it in.” With relative ease, you’re tossed into his dark, cramped closet as he smugly scowls at you. Slowly, he shuts the closet door, plunging you into complete darkness, surrounded only by the stench of Jabari’s sweat and the ever increasing pulsations under your skin.

You reflect on what brought you here, all the times you’d snuck down the hall to bury your face in the cleats that now grace your feet. *Crack*

You reflect on the fantasies in your head of him jacking you off with those thick hands. *Squelch*

You reflect on the taste of those smelly socks stuffed into your mouth, unable to bring yourself to remove them. *Sluuuuuuuuuurp*

You close your eyes, imagining the world in which your fantasies came alive. Kicking back with him, slurping on his musky cock, not as a lil bitch but as his equal. *Whoooooosh*

You can feel the pain in your arms, your legs, your chest and groin… that ache of athleticism, that need to grow, that desire to dominate, that pride of strength and of virility instilled into you. *CREAAAAAAAAAK*

You shudder, feeling your growing bulge start to leak into Jabari’s jockstrap, imagining his sweat, his spunk, his smell all flowing into you. Inundating you, entering you, reshaping you in his image. “Unhhhhhhh” you groan, your voice deep and bellowing. *BOOOM*

Pressure grows throughout your body, you feel more and more cramped in the small confines of the closet, your thoughts growing hazy and confused, time seemingly floating by at a crawl. Then, amongst the cavalcade of aches, groans, and obscene sounds echoing in the dark; you begin to fade into the void yourself. The darkness overtakes you, and all you have left is the sounds of stretching and inflation ringing in your ears. *SNAPP*

———

Jabari looks down at his watch, paid for by some horny old man begging to worship his pits, and smirks. He takes his time getting up off the couch, leaving the Ravens game blaring on his tv. His massive soles slap against the tile floor, as he pushes the door to his bedroom open. To his surprise, the door to the closet is slid all the way open, the interior only full of his clothes. He smirks as his gaze slowly turns to the corner of the room, and there before his mirror, crouching low on muscled thighs and meaty feet is you taking some smutty selfies in his dirty mirror.

“Damn, bruh. You lookin pumped as fuck. Feeling like yourself again?” his voice is softer, like an older brother speaking to his younger brother. You turn your head, grinning your pearly whites while scratching your manicured chinstrap. Standing up, your eyes gaze directly into his, now of equal height and build.

“Yeah, bro. I don’t know what got into me.” You strut up to him, donned in only his jockstrap, now dripping with your thick and potent seed. Your hand collides with his, your biceps bulging beneath your mocha skin. “Feelin a lil pent up though, man. Think you could help a bro out?” You slip your calloused hand down the jockstrap, letting your massive python plop out of the fabric and hang halfway down your thigh. Your balls still dripping in sweat, half yours, half Jabari’s. He nods, his supple lips curling even further into a wicked smile as he wraps his fingers around your shaft. Time to blow off some steam before the game is over- besides, you have practice in the morning. Maybe some bedtime with bro is just what the doctor ordered.

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possesseddesiress

Dog Days Of College

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Dog Days Of College

— Bark, bark. Guaarfff, guarfff!

— Dude, calm down. Be quiet!

Oh shit. I don't know when I thought this was a good idea. I study Neuroscience at university, and like any other scientist, my dream was to be able to create something that would leave a mark, something that wasn't something typical or normal like brain mapping or the like. I wanted something evolutionary, something that the limits of science fiction had only dared to touch: Body swapping.

The idea was simple: two pills with nanochips that, once ingested, will travel through the bloodstream until they reach the brain. Once there, they settle throughout the gray matter in important places like memories or personality. And with an internet-like connection, the chips of subject A link to those of subject B, allowing the exchange. It was practically foolproof! But I didn't count on my idiot roommate. A brainless jock more concerned with building muscle and flirting with the girls on campus than paying attention to the basic things I was telling him.

We both lived in a dorm, luckily a house. I needed it because of the space my research required, and he... I don't doubt he did something with one of the administrators to get the spot. We didn't get along badly; he could be nice when he used his brain, but he was too dumb. Which irritated me on more than one occasion.

My plan was to test the experiment on two dogs, a Golden Retriever and a Chihuahua. They both had distinct personalities, so seeing if the experiment worked would be very noticeable. I had already given his pill to "Rex," a rather playful and cheerful Golden Retriever who needed to go running every day, and also had a voracious appetite.

I was about to give it to the other dog when the phone rang in the kitchen. I went upstairs with the pill in hand to leave it on the kitchen counter (maybe that was my mistake there too). When I answered, it was from the neuroscience department who wanted to talk to me, so I practically ran out of the house.

I thought it was something serious, but it was mostly doubts about the project, almost mockery about how I was aiming too high and that what I wanted to achieve was practically impossible, something that would take more than thirty years to accomplish. I returned home in low spirits, so low that I didn't notice at first the chaos in the whole place: Furniture overturned, a few broken things, pillows here and there, shoes strewn all over the floor. I thought we'd been robbed, until I heard the strange sound of footsteps in the kitchen, but they sounded... different. I advanced cautiously, armed with an umbrella, step by step. The refrigerator was wide open. I couldn't see anyone because the counter blocked my path, but I heard a noise behind it, like someone eating hastily, the food being ground clumsily and desperately.

Great, the thief was also stealing our food. I inhaled as calmly as I could, advancing until I reached the other end of the kitchen, umbrella on guard, but far from finding a thief, I found Jackson, my roommate. On his knees, his chin and mouth full of spaghetti. The food container was on the floor, a mess of sauce and saliva around it.

— Jackson? What the fuck are you doing?

He was wearing a tight workout outfit, a navy blue spandex shirt tightly clinging to his muscles, and black shorts. He looked up at me before simply barking.

— Bark! Bark!

He said with a smile as he happily swayed his hips from side to side. I thought it was a joke (or that he'd gone crazy), but then I saw the counter: Empty.

growtherton

Drew and his brother Zeke moved to the city together a couple months ago, and share an apartment downtown. They don't see eye to eye on everything, but man do they love their pumpkin spice stuff. Finally the local coffee shop started serving them today, and they were sure to grab a latte. Drew's tasted a bit different than he was used to, but frankly, that was the least unexpected thing about it.

kureousology

dangercocktail

bizzhideaway

Roommate’s Sneaker

Brady and Landon, were two roommates in college. They had been roommates since freshman year when they had both joined the rowing team. As red blooded American college males, they did what red blooded American collegiate males do and went out and got drunk on a regular basis. On this particular night, Brady and Landon were heading out a bar a bit further away from campus than their usual haunts, wanting to experience a different venue for variety.

Following last call, the two made their way back home. Brady, the stereotypical alpha male standing 6’5 and 210 lbs of lean gym toned muscles and boy next door good looks listed in the streets wobbly from the many beers he had imbibed that night. His brash and cocky demeanor had diminished the charms of his looks and failed to score him points with the ladies at the bar that night and he was going home alone. He had some liquor addled thought of calling one of the many girls in the black book of his cell phone but was in no condition to text much less dial a number.

As the two made their way home, Brady lacking the necessary awareness knocked into an old vagrant looking man pushing a cart. Knocking over both the man and the contents as his cart. The man was dressed oddly in ragged clothes that screams of the old country somewhere in Eastern Europe. While, Landon apologized quickly and helped the man pick up his belongings, making excuses for his large drunken friend, Brady was having none of it “Wash where ya going brah” He slurred at the old man. The man responded in some weird language incredulous waving his hands at Brady warningly. “You wanna go man you wanna go” Brady responds puffing up his chest but swaying slightly from the liquor. Responding to the perceived threat with an over-zealousness that had not served him well in the past. Before Brady could even escalate the encounter further, the older gentlemen puts his hand into his pocket a throws a strange powder into Brady’s face and pointing at him speaking rapidly and menacingly in his weird native tongue. Landon quickly intervened standing between the two, as Brady continues to drunkenly curse out the man again rubbing at his eyes trying to brush off the powder from his clothes. The man moves off muttering to himself and Landon manages to somehow drag his drunk friend home.

The next morning Brady woke up in complete darkness, he was surrounded by fabric at least 20 times larger than he was, he crawled around blindly trying to find some way out of them. Crawling and scuttling around twisting the large almost suffocating heavy fabric. He struggled getting them off because they are huge. He finally crawled his way out of the sheets and clothing. He quickly realized it wasn’t that everything had grown huge but rather he had somehow impossibly shrunken down. Brady was barely over a foot tall. He slowly made his way across the large expanse that was his room, it seemed an eternity he moved barely an inch every few minutes but slowly he made his way to the living room where he hoped Landon would somehow be able to help him. He found him there sitting on the couch watching tv. Brady was feeling drawn towards Landon’s feet.

From Landon’s perspective he thought it was some sort of rodent or bug moving toward him, pulling up his feet out of shock but he looks down trying to make sense of his now miniscule roommate. Brady desperately tries to talk to his now gigantic roomate, but as he opens his mouth nothing seems to come out, he tries waving his arms, but as he does his arms slowly start to thin and flatten out turning into blue laces. Brady’s body starts to open, his body locking up as he hollowed his mouth stretched out in an O getting wider wider than humanly possible. His body shifts and starts to change shift his skin hardening and thickening as his insides continued to hollow. A blue swoosh forms on what used to be his chest, his transformation slows as it completes and now next to Landon’s upraised feet stood lays a Nike Sneaker. Landon is gripped by unforeseen force unable to resist, he takes Brady into his hands cupping Brady and unable to resist he pulls Brady onto his left foot. His barefoot into what used to Brady’s mouth and resting deep into what used to be his ass. His body filled with Landon’s foot, pressing into him penetrating him with every movement. Somehow Brady now matches another pair of Landon’s favorite sneakers…so he grabs the matching right sneaker pulled it on. Brady matches it perfect.

Whatever magic had gripped Landon, faded, finally able to collect his thoughts, Landon turned over the events trying to figure out what happened. After pacing a bit, each step sending Brady into a mix of pleasure pain as his body was pumped and stretched against Landon’s large foot. Then the thought finally struck him …that weird old guy. He starts walking all over the city looking for the old gypsy. Landon wanted to take his roommate off, but some force wouldn’t allow him to. Every time he tried he was stopped. With no other choice, Landon made his way out. His feet stretching Brady out and soaking him in his sweat, Landon had no idea Brady was tasting and drinking all of it almost drowning in it as Landon walked all over the city and many miles looking for the old gypsy man. Finally after hours of looking Landon tracked down the gypsy and in a respectful and slightly scared tone, told him what happened, begging him to turn his roommate back. The gypsy laughed “personally I think your roommate is better off as a sneaker, but I see you have a good heart and you showed me kindness last night. So I’ll relent, he threw some weird liquid at Landon’s foot. Now son, I’ve released him for now, to change him back. All you have to do is jerk off into him and as soon as he drinks in your cum he’ll transform back. However, every day he must worship at your feet one hour a day…or he will turn back into a sneaker. He must learn humility.” The old man said as he waved Landon off in dismissal and walked off.

Landon a bit dumbstruck at the Gypsy’s words stood stunned for a minute, then hurried home to release his roommate. He ripped off his jacket tossing it on the floor and ripped his roommate off his left foot. He pulled his rapidly hardening cock out. He had always had such a crush on his ridiculously hot all American roommate. Without a second thought he thrust his cock into the open mouth of the Nike sneaker that his roommate. In and out his precum making it slick, faster and harder. All the while Brady unable to move had no choice but to soak in his roommate’s precum and take his hard cock in and out of him as it plunged deeper into him. After awhile unable to contain himself any more he pumps a large load into his roommate. Letting hims drop on the floor he collapses into a nearby chair exhausted. After a moment, the shoe began to twitch, then shake and expand growing his form and color changing until he was once again his normal 6’5 self. “Ugh man what the fuck, I can’t believe what you just did”

Landon felt a bit ashamed and apologized “Sorry man but you heard the gypsy said” “I know I could hear him, I felt, tasted and smelled everything, the ground your foot” Brady interrupted,”I need to shower” “But what about you know…. Tomorrow….” Landon reminded him a bit too eagerly “I can’t man….I don’t….” Brady said hurrying to the bathroom. The next morning Bray woke up and he knew something was wrong immediately. His feet barely touched the ground. He was shrinking shit “Landon” he called panicked while he still could. Landon came rushing in to find his roommate half his normal height. “Oh no, come on man, you know what you need to do man, I’m sorry.” “Ugh fine” Brady said resigned falling to the ground at Landon’s left foot he started with a slight lick, then seized by some strange desire began with more gusto sucking and licking every inch of his Roommate’s foot. As he did he grew bigger and bigger till after an hour or so he was back to his normal height. Released from his ministrations once he was back to his normal height he was left with nothing more than shame and the humiliation of having served at his roommate’s foot. He didn’t know what to say and quick mumbled something as he made his way into his room. It soon became a routine, every morning he’d go into his roommate’s room and worship for an hour. As he did he began to change, becoming more and more submissive and by that same magic Landon began to become more dominant. From time to time he would withhold his feet from his roommate watching as he begged and changed unable to do anything as he shrunk into a sneaker. He’d wear him for a day or sometimes longer when he really wanted to show his roommate who was in control. As he jogged down an alley one day he could have sworn he saw and heard the laughter of the old gypsy man.

bigbeardbarefeet

achillestickler

Oh, put these in my face immediately!

barefootmaleko

Finally found time to have a session with this guy. Went nice and deep and played with his mind and feet and socks hehe. Give him policies and reposts. Also go follow him @hypnogaysir