#stink

[farmeraxel]

[thefunkfactory]

Nike Funk

They call me "The Dumpster" around the dorms, but my roommate, Liam? He just calls me "a biohazard."

Liam was your classic buzzkill. You know the type: color-coded highlighters, a mini-vacuum for his desk, and a strictly enforced "shoes off at the door" policy that I violated about five times a day. He was studying Pre-Med, stressing over organic chemistry while I was out on the field, grinding through three hours of football practice in ninety-degree heat. He was uptight, sterile, and desperately in need of an intervention.

And I had just the tools for the job.

I walked in that Tuesday evening, dragging a cloud of humidity and turf with me. I didn't even bother with the door handle; I just shouldered it open and collapsed onto my bed. The room smelled like lemon pledge and anxiety. Liam was hunched over his desk, back rigid.

"Kai, seriously?" he groaned without turning around. "I can smell you from here. Did you roll in a swamp?"

"It's called pheromones, buddy. It’s the scent of victory," I laughed, kicking my legs up. I looked down at my Nikes,battered, white-ish leather that had seen better days and definitely better smells. They were practically radiating heat.

I caught my reflection in the mirror,smug grin, polo shirt slightly unbuttoned. Then I looked at the shoe in my hand, and I saw the faint, greenish-yellow haze rising from the sole. It was like a cartoon, but real. The funk was so potent it was manifesting visually.

"Take a shower, Kai. Please," Liam begged, finally turning around. He pinched his nose, his eyes watering instantly.

"You know, Liam, your problem is you fight nature," I said, my voice dropping an octave, smooth and commanding. "You're too tense. You need to breathe it in."

I sat up, extending my right leg. The sock was grey, damp, and practically vibrating with the day's sweat. I held up my left sneaker in my hand, aiming the opening right at him like a cannon.

"What are you doing?" Liam started to stand up, panic flickering in his eyes. He tried to back away, but the dorm room was small. "Kai, put that away. I’m serious, I’m gonna throw up."

"No, you're not," I said, locking eyes with him. "You're gonna relax."

I waved the socked foot in a slow, rhythmic circle. The yellow mist seemed to swirl, catching the fluorescent light. Liam’s gaze got snagged on it. He tried to look away, to cover his face, but the scent was already hitting him,a thick, heavy wall of earthy musk, old leather, and pure, unfiltered locker room. It wasn't just a smell; it was a presence.

"It’s heavy, isn't it?" I whispered. "Makes your eyelids heavy. Makes your brain foggy."

Liam stumbled, his knees hitting the edge of my bed. "I... I can't..."

"Don't fight it. Embrace the funk."

He was wobbling now. The sharp, intellectual glare was fading, replaced by a dull, watery confusion. He swatted at the air, trying to push the smell away, but it was useless. I saw the moment his will cracked. He took a shallow breath, then coughed, but he didn't pull away.

"Now for the main course," I grinned.

I lunged forward, not aggressively, but with undeniable purpose. Before he could dodge, I cupped the heel of my sneaker and clamped the opening directly over his nose and mouth.

"Breathe, Liam."

He thrashed instantly. His hands flew up to grab my wrist, his muffled shouts vibrating through the leather sole against my palm. He was trying to hold his breath, his eyes bulging as he stared right into the dark, humid abyss of the shoe's interior. But the body needs air.

He gasped.

I watched the transformation kick in immediately. The shoe was a concentrated chamber of everything he hated, and now, it was becoming everything he was. As he inhaled that thick, heated air, the fight drained out of his arms. His grip on my wrist went from a desperate claw to a loose hold, and finally, his hands just dropped to his sides.

The transformation was fascinating to watch. It started in the face. The tension in his jaw unspooled completely. His furrowed brow, usually etched with worry about GPAs and exams, smoothed out into a vacant, blissful slackness. His eyes, previously sharp and alert, rolled back slightly before settling into a heavy-lidded, glazed stare.

Then it hit his posture. The "clean" Liam stood with a rod in his spine. The new Liam melted. His shoulders slumped forward, losing all that rigid academic tension. He leaned into the shoe now, not away from it. He was practically nuzzling the insole, chasing the source of the fog.

I pulled the shoe back a few inches. A visible trail of that green funk seemed to connect the sole to his nostrils.

"How we feelin', bro?" I asked.

Liam stood there, swaying. He looked... different. Dirtier, somehow, even though he hadn't touched anything. His pristine button-down shirt suddenly looked uncomfortable on him. He tugged at the collar, popping a button loose. He ran a hand through his perfectly gelled hair, messing it up into a spiked, disheveled mop that mirrored mine.

"I feel..." Liam's voice was deeper, slower. "Chill."

"Yeah? You worried about that Chem test?"

Liam blinked, looking at his desk like he didn't recognize it. He looked back at my foot,the source of his new enlightenment. "Chem? Nah. Whatever."

He sat down heavily on his own bed, kicking off his loafers without undoing the laces, letting them clatter against the wall,a mortal sin for the old Liam. He slumped back, spreading his arms wide, taking up space. He took a deep sniff of the air, which still reeked of my three-hour practice, and instead of gagging, a lazy smile spread across his face.

"Smells like... victory," he mumbled, echoing me.

I laughed, tossing the sneaker onto his lap. He didn't push it away. He just rested his hand on it, like it was a pet.

"Welcome to the brotherhood, Liam."

[kylestfs]

Dynamic

In a city of millions, two men—Ryan and Jason—lived completely separate lives, their paths never meant to cross.

Until tonight.

Bored, they each scrolled through their phones, searching for something (or someone) to pass the time. That’s when they both found it.

A strange, unnamed app, sitting deep in the app store. No description. No reviews. No history. Just a sleek, pulsing chat bubble icon with a single prompt after installation:

*Start Chat*

Neither of them hesitated.

They clicked.

Their screens went black for a moment before loading a simple chat window. A single message appeared at the top.

— You are now connected. Say hi! —

Ryan, stretched across his bed, thumbed at his screen. The chat had connected him with a random guy.

Whatever. He had nothing better to do.

Ryan: Hey. Who’s this?

Across the city, Jason blinked at the message. Who the hell was this?

Jason: idk, just found this app. You?

Ryan: Same. Looks kinda sketch ngl

Jason: Yeah lol. Guess we’re both bored af

Simple. Casual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for the pull.

Neither of them noticed at first, but the moment they exchanged words, something shifted.

Something had taken hold.

Ryan absently rubbed his fingertips together. His skin felt… softer.

The air in his room seemed warmer, heavier against his body. His shirt, loose before, now draped differently over his torso. His waist felt tighter, his frame subtly shrinking in on itself.

He shifted against his mattress. Something about the way his body rested felt off.

No—not off. Different.

Ryan: Lol yeah… kinda fun tho~

Wait.

His eyes widened slightly. Why had he typed that? That tilde at the end—he never texted like that. It was… cutesy. Flirty.

A faint pink dusted his cheeks.

His softer, rounder cheeks.

Meanwhile, Jason tilted his head at the message.

Something about it made his gut tighten. No—not tighten. Expand.

A slow, rippling sensation spread through his torso, a warmth settling into his shoulders, chest, and arms.

His grip on his phone felt stronger.

He flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift beneath his skin. His palm looked different.

Larger. Thicker. Rougher.

His lips curled into a small smirk. He typed without thinking.

Jason: Yeah, guess it’s not so bad. Ur kinda funny lol

The moment he hit send—

Crack.

Jason inhaled sharply as his spine lengthened. A sudden heat surged through his body, muscle knitting together, growing denser, stronger. His once lean frame stretched, broadening, his shoulders pushing outward with a slow, satisfying pressure.

He rolled them instinctively, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his new build. His chest felt heavier, his pecs firmer, fuller. His biceps bulged slightly as he shifted, his veins subtly rising beneath his skin.

His scent was changing too.

The faint, neutral smell of his room was being overpowered by something else. Something thicker, muskier.

Something his.

Ryan’s breath hitched as he read Jason’s text.

“Ur kinda funny lol.”

It wasn’t even that flirty, but why did it make his stomach flutter?

His fingers trembled slightly as he typed back.

Ryan: Omg shut uppp lol ur teasing me~

The moment he sent it—

His waist cinched inward.

His stomach flattened, growing softer, smoother. His hips pressed outward, the bones shifting beneath his skin, forming an alluring, delicate curve.

His legs stretched slightly, but instead of gaining size, they slenderized.

His thighs—once average—became soft, plush, and bony.

His calves slimmed, his ankles narrowing into dainty, elegant proportions. His fingers flexed, and he gasped.

They were smaller.

More delicate.

A faint, involuntary giggle bubbled up from his throat.

His higher, sweeter, softer throat.

Jason exhaled through his nose, stretching his newly broadened body.

His arms felt heavy with strength. His hands—now massive compared to before—flexed against his thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats.

A warm dampness clung beneath his arms, his natural musk intensifying. He reeked.

And he loved it.

A cocky grin spread across his face.

Jason: Lmao, what, you like it when I tease?

Ryan shuddered. His plush thighs squeezed together. His ass twitched.

His soft, round, plump ass.

Jason leaned back, rolling his shoulders. His chest stretched against his shirt, the fabric clinging to the new thickness of his pecs.

His scent was unmistakable now—deep, raw, masculine, and honestly really smelly.

His armpits—warm, slightly damp—radiated a rich, musky funk. His feet, once average-sized, had grown huge, the soles pressing against the floor with a newfound weight.

His socks, discarded nearby, were stained with sweat, the scent thick and heady in the air.

Jason: Lol bet you’d love burying your face in my pits rn huh?

Ryan’s breath hitched.

His body trembled.

A deep, unfamiliar need coiled in his gut. His thighs clenched instinctively, his ass wiggling against the bed.

His lips parted slightly, his pinker, softer lips.

A whimper slipped out.

His hgher, needier whimper.

His mind felt hazy.

Ryan: Omg wtf why would u say that!!!

Jason: Lmao, you love it.

Ryan whined.

He did.

He fucking did.

Jason was complete.

His massive frame, his thick, dominant scent, his cocky, fuckboy energy—he was the epitome of a top.

His feet huge and sweaty. His pits ripe and musky. His voice deep and commanding.

And Ryan?

Ryan was his.

A tiny, blushing, submissive, needy bottom.

His soft, round ass—perfectly made for his top. His body, delicate, built to be claimed. His mind, rewired to crave Jason’s dominance, his scent, his filth

They had started as strangers.

Now, they were something else.

they only had memories of being a couple for a year.

— two days later—

Jason was all Ryan could think about now—his sweaty frame, his overpowering musk, his deep, arrogant voice.

His scent.

His filth.

A whimper slipped from Ryan’s lips. His pinker, fuller lips. His stomach twisted with hunger.

Ryan: omg jason…

Jason smirked at the message, stretching his broad, muscular arms above his head, his damp armpits airing out. He let out a long, lazy exhale, flexing his thick biceps.

His body felt heavy, powerful, dominant.

Ryan was wrapped around his finger.

Jason : Lmao what

Ryan’s thighs clenched.

His soft, dainty fingers hovered over the keyboard. His heart pounded.

He knew what he wanted.

He needed it.

But saying it outright—admitting it—felt so shameless.

Still, his body was betraying him.

His fingers moved.

Ryan: can u…

He hesitated

A soft whimper left his lips as he wiggled against his bed.

Ryan: c-can u send me… a video… of ur fart again?

Jason blinked.

Jason: Lmao, again?

Ryan covered his blushing, soft face. His cheeks burned

His tiny, needy, giggly body squirmed.

Ryan: pls babe?

Jason chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

His short, unkempt hair was messy, sweaty, sticking up in places.

He didn’t think much about it.

In fact, he didn’t think much about anything.

Not his scent. Not his filth. Not the way his boxers clung to his sweaty skin, or how his feet were practically marinating in his old socks.

He just existed.

And he smelled like himself.

Jason: sure i guess, babe

He barely gave it a second thought as he shifted, spreading his legs slightly. He leaned back, pressing into the bed, his massive, sweaty frame sinking into the mattress.

He lifted his thick ass cheek slightly and—

PPPPPFFFRRRRTTTTT

A long, wet, lazy fart rumbled out of him, vibrating against the fabric of his stretched-out, sweaty boxers.

The scent hit him instantly.

Jason: Lmao, that one was loud af.

Ryan shuddered. His eyes were wide, trembling, desperate.

His plump thighs rubbed together, his body overheated with need. The need to smell it.

He had to know.

He had to hear it.

Ryan: how did it smell?

Jason raised an eyebrow.

Smell?

What smell? He didn’t smell at all, right ?

He gave a casual shrug, completely oblivious to the dense, suffocating funk that now lingered in the air around him.

Jason: idk, just normal I guess?

Ryan let out a needy whimper, his fingers gripping the sheets.

Jason: Wait… U really like this huh?

Ryan’s heart pounded. His soft chest rose and fell rapidly.

He couldn’t deny it.

He was hooked. Obsessed.

Jason stretched again, his thick, sweaty muscles flexing. A cocky smirk played at his lips.

Jason: Alright then, say it.

Ryan blinked.

Ryan: s-say what?

Jason grinned.

Jason: Tell me how much u want me.

Ryan whined.

His body burned with humiliation, excitement, and deep, desperate need.

He wanted Jason to own him.

And he would admit it.

There was no escaping it now.

——————-

Ryan :

Jason :

[transfem-breeder]

Let’s make a trade

I get to not shower after working out

You get sweaty stinky girl balls to huff and lick

[ohgodshutit]

real not clickbait

[sumplysilly]

They're killing him with hammers in 10 minutes!

[thegoodmorningman]

Good Morning!!! I have a hard time believing Monday could ever be this cute.