Untitled

Josh loved Cheetos enough to get Cheeto-branded boxers, so I wasn't surprised when he decided to eat a long out-of-date pack of them that had slipped behind my kitchen drawer unnoticed. He scoffed them while we waited for the train, barely stopping to take a breath. We were headed to London for the weekend, and living in rural North Yorkshire, it was going to be a long train journey.

We got to York without much issue and changed over for a train to Peterborough, planning to get the train to London from there. 1 hour and 30 minutes with no stops. As we sat down and the train started to depart the York station, a man's voice rung out through the tannoy, "Welcome aboard this train to London via Peterborough. I regret to inform you that the in-carriage toilets will be out of service for the duration of your journey, we apologise for any inconvenience." I shrugged it off, but looking up I saw a twinge of uncertainty across Josh's face as he rubbed his lower abdomen.

CUM

Marcus wanted to have a different life, he wanted to become a young man humiliated daily. He made the vague wish and suddenly felt himself changing.

First he looses years and becomes younger.

Now 18 with a huge as, he knows he's morphed into some sort of sexy young nerd, his geek info overflowing in his mind. A good looking nerd? was that humiliating enough? But then another wave came over him.

His new body now sitting in an adult high chair, he was wearing a diaper and bib, Food being feed to him by his... is that his best friend. Food was all over his face as his wish for humiliation became more real as now he looked and felt like an 18 year old baby. He notices cameras everywhere.

Marcus wanted to have a different life, he wanted to become a young man humiliated daily. He made the vague wish and suddenly felt himself changing.

First he looses years and becomes younger.

Now 18 with a huge as, he knows he's morphed into some sort of sexy young nerd, his geek info overflowing in his mind. A good looking nerd? was that humiliating enough? But then another wave came over him.

His new body now sitting in an adult high chair, he was wearing a diaper and bib, Food being feed to him by his... is that his best friend. Food was all over his face as his wish for humiliation became more real as now he looked and felt like an 18 year old baby. He notices cameras everywhere.

Callum had always moved with a calculated confidence. At 6'0" and a solid 185 lbs, his space in the world was defined by discipline and quiet strength. He liked the ritual of his life: going to the gym, wearing fitted tees that showed off his defined chest and arms, and projecting a naturally dominant energy. He was used to leading, to being the one in control. His reflection—defined by a strong jawline, thick brows, and visible chest hair—was a source of pride.

Then he met Easton.

(A horror themed butt growth story.)

Why do you keep doing this to yourself? It’s like you set yourself up for disaster. You are travelling home alone from a rather productive session at the gym. That is the good news, the bad news is you have just entered what is known as a run down area of town affectionately referred to as ‘The Crack’, everyone tends to avoid it if possible. There have been recent reports of missing people in the area too, but no one is very surprised, or seems to care. But today you were in a rush and despite your reservations, this was the quickest route back. At least, in theory.

Passing down a street of derelict warehouses you notice a side passage that appeared to lead down an alleyway. That was odd. You’ve been down here before, but had never noticed this back-alley before. Paths don’t tend to spring up out of thin air. You try and calculate where it should lead and come to the conclusion that it would let you save some time, maybe? Look, it’s extremely unlikely anything bad could happen within the minute it would take to make it through to the other side. Yes, that is what everyone says before things go horribly wrong but that was absolutely, definitely not going to happen here.

You step into a puddle that splashes an unidentifiable liquid up your bare leg. Mental note: never wear shorts in ‘The Crack’ again. Trash was piled up high on either side, it was obvious these buildings didn’t get a huge amount of use anymore. You always thought horror movies had done a real disservice to alleyways, but this one certainly wouldn’t be changing anyones mind. In the distance you see the silhouette of someone standing in the middle of the alley. From their stature it seems to be man, but something about them throws you off. You feel a pang of trepidation, a chill runs down your back. It’s only just occurred to you how deafly quiet the passage is, the sounds of the street feel like miles away. You turn around and the uneven pavement seems to impossibly stretch away from your feet. You hear a dull droning, fizzling just within your hearing range. Looking back and the man appears closer than before, you swear he hasn’t moved and yet…

“Uh hello?” You call out, to no response. Strange. But then, you see it. The most beautiful sight your eyes have been graced with. His butt.

Butt.

His grey joggers are having a hard time trying to contain what he’s packing, not that you’re complaining. It’s bigger than what you thought possible, it’s captivating. And now you’re just staring. Staring at another dudes gigantic butt in the middle of an alley, try not to overthink it. You see it jiggle just slightly and your eyes follow it’s repetitive movement hypnotically. What doesn’t occur to you is how your body is starting to….adjust. There’s a barely perceptible malicious force entering your form, you welcomed it in the second you laid eyes on the perfectly sculpted ass. Not a wholly bad trade off.

It wastes no time in making itself at home. Assessing the prey that wandered into it’s lair, before going to work on you.

The energy is gathering in your nethers, passing down your head and pulling through your torso. It seems to be taking something with it as your rear begins to heat up. You feel a light throb. It starts slow but soon increases in intensity. Your modest stature is being ‘enhanced’, your average ass cheeks piling on pounds as the rest of your body flattens out. Muscle and tissue is consumed, just food to bolster your hindquarters. All your body fat melts away until you have a tight slim chest. Your arms thinning out into effeminate twigs, hands slender. And through it all you continue to watch the rotund cheeks in front of you, not daring to take your eyes off them. Wouldn’t it be nice to have that too? Any sacrifice would be worth it, no? You want that, that -

Butt.

The thin polyester fabric of your shorts is pulled taut across your enlarging rear. Straining as it struggles to cage the hungry beast within it’s confines. Today was perhaps not the best day to decide on going without underwear. But lets be honest, underwear isn’t going to have much prominence in your future.

With your body adequately slimmed down, the insatiable parasitic-like force begins to target any identifying features you have left. It focuses on your head, a couple of twitches and it’s done. Nose itches, eyes water. It leaves your face with an uncanny quality, like it was unsettlingly sent though a algorithmic generator. It’s you, but an eerie idealised version of you. Plasticised perfection. Your skin is now unnaturally even, without a single speck or blemish. Anything that could distract from your main asset is smoothed clean. Absorbed by the mound of flesh expanding in your pants. There’s only one thing people should be paying attention to. That’s quickly becoming less of an issue. The inevitable missing poster they put up will only vaguely resemble you.

“Guh.” You hear yourself pant.

The low droning of the alleyway grows more prominent, pulsing rhythmically, akin to the low bass of a dance track. Your buttocks instinctually vibrate to the beat.

It’s increasingly hard to ignore the obvious changes happening to you. Your rotund behind is becoming so heavy. And while, yes, it is slightly concerning - can the issue wait just a little bit longer? You’ll deal with it later, after fully grasping the scope of this dude’s bountiful booty. For a second you wonder what the mans face looks like but then you think better of it. His face isn’t important, in the same way that yours isn’t.

You shift your feet apart, trying to balance out your rear heavy centre of gravity. The slight movement sends your round cheeks wobbling comically like a bowl of jelly. They bounce together, creating a wet slapping sound in your tight shorts. Your lower half is at risk of putting fuck toys out of business.

You’ve never had the word ‘butt’ enter your mind with such frequency in your entire life, it begins to loose all meaning. A collection of random letters.

Butt.

Are you perhaps forgetting something? That 4 letter word isn’t about to share a space with that bump between your legs. At some point you may have believed your cock was of some importance. All those times it had made you feel good, where for a second your concerns would fade from view. But things change. You are changing. Sometimes you have no choice but to embrace it. You start to feel a light tugging at your crotch. It’s slightly uncomfortable but there’s a pleasant tingle too. You reach down and feel it’s length diminish within your hand, sucked up like a vacuum by your ever thickening arse. It doesn’t stop until a mere nub protrudes from your groin. It dribbles the smallest amount of pre down your leg and spreads across the cracked concrete of the alley. No amount of stimulation is going to produce much down there. Your pleasure centre realigns a little further back. A deep itch that requires constant attention. A cock is something that other people have, you instead have an open socket for them to plug into.

Your shapely bum must almost rival that of the one your eyes are glued to. Not much further to go. Other people will stare at yours in the same way. You didn’t know you were so jealous of it but who wouldn’t want THAT?

You’re not sure how long you’ve been watching his rear end, or how long you plan to continue doing so. No better ideas come to mind right now. That might be because with your body and cock sucked dry, your brain is the next best source of fuel. So much useless power being used up there, where it can serve a much better purpose. It’s like a battery being drained, squeezed right into your juicy fat ass. Churned away just to add another inch of thickness.

You don’t think you really want this to happen, maybe you’re big enough back there? But what you want and what it wants are two very different things. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t appear to be up for debate.

If you round up all those little idiosyncrasies of your personality, you might even squeeze another few millimetres into your hips. There’s only one thing around here with much substance anymore, and it certainly isn’t your brain. You can admit it, not much of value has been lost. It’s not like you were getting around to solving world hunger. At least now you have the opportunity to solve a different kind of hunger.

Your thoughts provided a decent amount of sustenance as they were sucked out of your brain through a figurative straw. You feel the benefit push out. Your hips flaring out instantaneously while your globes inflate to the size of footballs. With your brain emptied out of anything complex, thoughts and instructions to your body start to arrive from the new master of the domain. Neurones rewired, your butt was now command central, your head was just the go between, mostly irrelevant. Simple instructions and desires like ‘bend’, ‘twerk’ and ‘facesit’ overwhelm you. But -butt- right now the main one was ‘stare’; you weren’t done yet after all.

Your cheeks moisten as they rub together, their new sensitivity firing bolts up your spine. Your shorts grow damp as the leaking fluid soaks into the polyester and clings tightly to your skin. It only helps to make your arse seem bigger, the fabric bunching up between your crack, creating a noticeable crease down the centre that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Once again you feel your ass throb and shudder, each jiggle pushing it just a little bit further from your body. Just when you think you couldn’t get any bigger back there, it keeps going, inflating to cartoonish proportions. Sticking out like a depraved shelf. Your waist thins out and your hips expand to accommodate your new form. Women would be jealous of what you’re packing, and men will be queuing up to test it’s suspension.

It’s okay to smile. Happy people smile. Aren’t you happy? You must be, everything else in your head was consumed. The entity did you a favour in that regard. Think of the words ‘bouncing booty’. Go on, give it a try.

Your lip quivers in a last ditch effort of restraint. Don’t let ‘it’ win. The defiance is vaguely amusing in a pitiful way but your face muscles start to give way. Your mouth stretches wide into a broad, earnest grin. The most sincere display of joy you’ve ever shown, who cares if it makes you look ‘dumb’? It doesn’t bother you at all that people can take one look at you and accurately guess, that not a single word of value will exit your mouth. Dumb people are happy. Why worry? You had different priorities now. You can feel safe knowing that your most prominent feature is taking the lead, that it knows what’s best for you. Give it the keys and good things are bound to happen.

See, and doesn’t smiling feel good? Doesn’t it feel right to smile as your hole is used like a cum receptacle? Or when your cheeks are surrounding a mans face? People don’t want to see their toy sad.

A lone giggle falls out between your pursed lips.

You reach back around and place your hands on your two buttocks, your palm is dwarfed in size. It no longer stretches across its surface. Like palming a basketball. You can feel it push against your fingers with immense pressure as it expands within your grasp. Just another centimetre, and another. It’s curvature widens, expanding out from your hips. You press your finger into the skin and rub. The surface is completely smooth and the texture has a slight friction to it, creating a light satisfying sqk. No one for a second will believe that it’s real, it’s obvious fake-ness is by design. Authenticity is so overrated, nothing real would bounce so tightly back to position, would shine so brightly in the light. Would be able to withstand so much pounding… People don’t actually want real, they want a fetish image come to life, they want no maintenance, no downsides. They want someone to just nod and agree while they fuck them without concern; they want a rubber butt like yours. You’re not about to question it, and neither will anyone else.

They won’t question it while they undress you, or while they find relief inside of you, or even when their own butt begins to expand. And still, when they are reduced to just another butt boy, they won’t question it.

Butt.

That’s right, you’re a carrier. You have been entrusted with a important task, to leave a string of giant asses in your wake. You need to spread it, like a computer virus. Once they ‘plug in’ there’s no going back. Whoever they were, they’ll all end up the same.

You are finished. Your glutes tighten into place. And your hole opens for frequent visitors. Stretching wide as if it had just been treated to a rigorous fuck machine session. You’re just a butt with a body attached. It’s how you view yourself, above all is tending to the needs of your ever hungry rear. The rest of your body is just a mode of transport, a means to an end. A rear end.

It feels like you’ve stood here for hours, but in reality it’s been no more than a minute. A minute was all it took for you to be repurposed as a literal butt boy. A mere sixty seconds for all your thoughts to be hollowed out; maybe you weren’t as smart as you thought, or maybe you secretly wanted this all along. Either way your head is now just a pretty picture to smile at before spinning you around.

The space in your head is about as empty as the hole between your pillowy cheeks, although only one has any hope of being filled up.

“Butt!” You hear yourself blurt out, like a child saying a naughty word. The sound echos down the dank alley.

Suddenly the butt opposite you turns away, his legs moving him towards you. A wordless instruction reaches your body to kneel and so you do, obediently. He turns back away, his beautiful ass only a few inches apart from your face. His joggers lower and his prize springs forth from it’s prison. He slowly backs his cheeks into your face until they eclipse your entire view. He continues until your head is pushed between his round globes with a blomf, encasing you, muffling the sound in your ears. There’s a mild tingle across your forehead/face.

You feel the pressure push against your sides. It makes sure your head is an appropriately vacuous vessel, squeezing out anything left. That little remnant that didn’t want to be butt brained drips away in no time, turned to drool and absorbed into the guys ass crack. This would be good for you; You needed to be made perfect, so you let the butt finish it’s work. A new set of instructions flow into you, into your ass. You feel your consciousness connect to the butt burying your face, assimilating and adding you as one of it’s own, making you part of something bigger. One of many.

The pressure on your head leaves your emptied mind subservient to the mass of tissue straining under you. It gives you a new identity.

I gave you a new identity.

BUTT BOY.

And you’re now ready for service. Butt. Boy. Ready to spread joy. To put it in the nicest way possible, you have a butt for a brain. It has been given full control, and it has one singular goal. You need to make more Butt Boys. It is that simple. It’s not a desire, it’s just something you have to do.

The cheeks spread open again and are unseated from your encased head, your broad smile still unflinching.

Something else is different though. A cold breeze brushes over your forehead. The hair on your head is nothing but a light dusting of what was there before, at most 1mm in length. It was one less thing to worry about, and one less thing to identify you with. It’s unsettling how much of your personality seemed to be stripped with it gone. The buzzed look certainly makes you appear more anonymous. Like a default custom character in a video game. Nothing made you stand out… well, aside from the obvious.

The ass in front of you is satisfied with your ‘adjustment’ and leads it’s body from the spot it once stood so patiently in. You continue to stare as the buttocks juggle erratically in the grey joggers as they leave the alleyway.

Your feet begin to move of their own volition. Movement is awkward, each step your balance is pulling you backward. You’re like a dumptruck trying to make a tight turn.

You are left in silence, aside from the clapping of your bouncy cheeks as you stumble forward to replace the previous occupant. You stand in the exact same spot, thighs pushed together, back straight. Now it is your turn to wait - like an animal for it’s prey, knowing that you cannot leave until you have passed on the gift to another man; ensuring that the cycle continues. The idea of causing someone else to go through the same process fills you with such pride.

It’s unclear how long you stand there, time in the alley doesn’t appear to operate within normal parameters. Like a crack in the world. You see your shadow projected onto a nearby wall, a straight line interrupted by an obscene vibrating speed bump. Doorframes could be your new biggest enemy.

You were desperate to see your reflection, from behind obviously. Most people take selfies of their face, the subject of your attention would be much further down.

You hear a voice echo from behind.

“Excuse me sir.”

One week later:

“Man, how much work did you have done on this, femboy? Unff. You make even my girlfriend look flat.” A towering voice booms down at you.

You’d picked up the jock in a club. He was relatively easy, it didn’t take much to end up back at his place. You stared at him with that horny, open mouthed duck face. But he wasn’t interested in what you had going on up there. It was remarkable how little men cared about how flagrantly airheaded you were once you flash your rear at them. It didn’t matter how ‘plastic’ or fake you so obviously were. The eye see’s what it wants.

He was clearly in the mood to let off steam, and one look of what you had on offer was all it took. You didn’t even need to say anything, which was good, as words were so hard to get right. For tonight, you were his; a light tap of your butt and he owned your body. A breathy ‘mhm’ confirming your obedience to him and his sizeable bulge. Your ass begins to moisten in preparation - it wanted him, in more ways than one.

He had told you his name, but you already forgot it; he soon would too. ‘Jocky’ was good enough for now.

Jocky was obnoxious in all the right ways, wearing his masculinity on his sleeve. That type made for the best, most severe adjustment.

“Love the buzzcut by the way femmy. Yeah…mhm. Very basic, it suits you.” He rubs a hand over the top of your head before running his fingers through his curly hair. It was a good thing he already liked the look.

*plap plap*

The strong man’s 7 inch cock thrusts in and out of your well used hole, pulling between your lubricated cheeks. Your buttocks squished against his member tightly, every bump rubbing across your hypersensitive skin. You were so hungry. He wasn’t the longest but he definitely had thickness on his side. You pant heavily as he has his way with you. Bent over his bed, facing away from him at a wall. He wasn’t as good at this as he thought, you would know, but it wouldn’t matter for long.

“Mmf. You’re a quiet one. Ah… I- I like that in a bottom. Makes a nice change from…hff. Always whining. Know your place. Fuck.” He continues to drunkenly rant into your ear. His deep, self-aggrandising voice quickly grating on you.

“Uuh. Take it all dumb slut.” You let him have his petty insults, it seemed to make him feel bigger, more in control. Evidently, he was obviously very self obsessed, dumb as you may be, even you could tell that much. The constant glances at his own muscles were enough of a giveaway. Eh. You’d seen better; the change will be a improvement.

He speeds up, sending shockwaves up your body and making your butt bounce enthusiastically.

“H…hey it’s real hot in here.” His voice shakes. “Umf. Maybe we should stop?” He puts his hand on your hip in an attempt to steady himself as he continues pumping you. You begin to push back into him, his dick pushing all the way in.

“Wh… what the fuck. My ass feels…mmm.” He groans loudly. You know how it feels. You can hear them rubbing together already.

His grip on your back weakens, the weight crashing into you softens. His body is like a deflating balloon, his diminishing height bringing him closer to the floor. The girth inside of you shrinks.

“Ahh. So heavy…damn. My-“

“Butt.” You tell him. A slight hint of boredom in your tone.

“Oh god, why does my head… so hard to think.” Right on cue, his smarts were being cleared out, in preparation for his ass to take over thinking duties. This part was your favourite; it wasn’t fair he had all that stuff while you felt so…blank. “Feels so good. Unnf.” It was too late for him to stop it, he’d soon be very happy. Happy, eager and ready to comply. “Shouldn’t though…” You take the lead, rocking back and forth along what’s left of his dwindling shaft. Your buttocks slap against his tightened chest.

*plap plap*

“Bouncy…hehe.” He laughs dimly. You can’t help but echo his giggle, it WAS a funny word. One of your favourites - top 5 at least, right after ‘jiggle’.

“Don’t wanna…fuck…b…but I can’t…but…but.” He stutters, like a scratched record.

“B…bu…Butt. Buuuutt.” His voice moans in realisation, mumbling the word over and over to himself. He shudders, squirting inside of you. It’s okay. It’s never enough to satisfy you.

His tiny cock slips out of your hole, dragging a small string of cum across your sensitive rear. That familiar feeling of emptiness sets back in. You get out from under him and assess your work. Turning to face him, you’re greeted by his broad smile and blank, lust-filled stare. His jockish face and body now heavily twinkified; those boorish muscles, gone. His cocky attitude, subdued. The bed creaks. You check on his oversized ass splayed beneath him, a rather drastic change from his previously flat posterior. Looking even more ridiculous with his shortened stature. The slight rubbery sheen was the cherry on top. Those plastic beach balls were made to twerk and put on a show. A vast improvement, he seems pleased by it too. His left hand is loosely fondling his new selling point.

“O…ohh.” A surprised squeak slips out from his mouth. It’s always a shock when they see where everything has gone.

You’re pretty sure he didn’t have much experience back there, if any at all. He’ll soon get the hang of it.

You know what comes next, what’s required of you - it’s instinctual at this point. You push him onto the bed and position yourself on top of him. You gradually begin to lower your huge rear over his head. You sit snugly down on his blushing face, shifting your weight a bit to get into a comfortable position. His gelled hair tickles against your skin, until it doesn’t…

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

"You're joining the team next year, right man?"

"Yeah bro, that's the plan."

Tony smirked as one of his new gym bros clapped him on the back. Yeah, that was indeed the plan. But it hadn't always been. Hockey? Him? He couldn't fully believe it.

"You were a natural out there."

Tony smiled as he recalled how swiftly he moved on the ice. How easily it came to him. The speed, the thrill... It felt so familiar... Like he had done it hundreds of times prior... Like he had spent his life training to play in college.

"Felt right, man, ya know?"

Just as natural as all the time spent in the gym, focusing on lifting weights rather than only cardio. In hindsight, he couldn't imagine why he hadn't started lifting earlier. His body had responded quickly, like it yearned to pack on muscle. And looking at himself now, with his bulging muscles, body hair, facial hair... A far cry from the scrawny twink he arrived on campus as at the start of the year.

"Twink death."

His gay besties he had met on his first day on campus would say. He heard that phrase even more when they noticed his new chest hairs.

"Twunk!"

"Jock!"

His besties would giggle, poke at his muscles. At first, Tony would laugh. Talk about how many more guys were checking him out. Brag about how they couldn't get enough of his thicker, muscular ass. But even that seemed temporary. Hooking up with men? Tony noticed his attraction shifting. Beautiful blond women with big tits. And it wasn't just his preferences. Endless celebrity gossip with his besties? He would rather talk about sports and watch the big game. Not to check out the hot guys on the team, but because he actually cared. Majoring in theater? Suddenly finance was becoming more attractive, as if he always wanted to pursue a career in the private sector.

"You've changed."

"Did you dye your hair?"

Tony tried to laugh it off. Tell his besties it was just him exploring a different side of him. But as time went on, this him- this "new" him felt right. No one in his family was blond. So how had he been? His brothers and father were massive sports fans. So why wouldn't he be? His gay besties? He would rather hang out with the jocks down the hall- and not just because he found them hot. Their camaraderie felt right. He bonded so easily with them. And suddenly, partying, poppers, and getting his ass fucked felt wrong. That person, that version of him... it didn't really feel like him. And as his first year in college passed by, he felt that the person he was when he arrived on campus was never actually supposed to be him.

"My head..." He grunted and closed his eyes.

These migraines hurt. Becoming more frequent as the months passed. But the migraines came with flashes of something else. Of a different life. Of growing up different. Playing hockey, his first time with a woman, meeting Christi, wanting to get married to her...

"Fuck." Tony whispered. What was he thinking? Who were these people? It hurt. These memories. He longed for them, longed for something that felt more real than who had been these past few months, "What the fuck is..."

His phone buzzed and he looked down at a message. He involuntarily shuddered.

"Let's meet up when you're back."

Paul. He lived next to his parent's place. Just moved in a few days before Tony left for college. How many times had they hooked up before he left? How many times had Paul fucked him? Tony gulped. Paul was always so dominant. So in charge. Tony had drooled over the man's thick cock more times than he could count. But now? Tony had no interest.

"Alright." Tony replied. He felt he at least owed Paul an explanation for his sudden change.

---------------

Tony stood outside Paul's front door, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, that his memories of Paul and their past together were somehow…off. Before Tony could knock, the door swung open. Paul's musculature and hairy torso greeted him. And while it would've usually turned him on, Tony felt... nothing. Even as he remembered riding Paul's fat cock, which bulged obscenely in his shorts. Even as he remembered Paul's calloused hands squeezing his ass. Even as he remembered stuffing his nose in Paul's musky pits...

"Tony? This is unexpected," Paul raised an eyebrow. His gaze lingered on Tony's muscular frame and short dark hair. Tony figured the "unexpected part" had to do with his appearance, "You look…different."

"I…yeah, I guess I do," Tony mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "I wanted to talk to you about some things…" He trailed off, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say.

"Lets talk indoors." He moved out of the way, inviting Tony in, "Did you have a chance to work out today? I can tell you enjoy it."

Tony sensed the disdain, "I, well..."

But as he stepped inside, a flood of fragmented images popped into his head... He was jogging, shirtless. Appearing as he did now. His muscular physique soaking up the sun. He had stopped for a drink, and that's when he met Paul, seemingly another man out for a jog. They talked and Paul invited him over to use his home gym. After all, Tony's usual gym was closed for repairs.

"I… What was that…?" Tony stopped mid-step and gripped his head, "I've... done this before."

"Huh maybe you have." Paul grinned, "Offer still stands, you coming or what?"

"S-sure..." He replied, numbly.

Paul smirked and placed a firm hand on Tony's broad shoulder, guiding him towards the basement stairs, each step bringing up more fragments. The creaky stairs, the musty smell, the single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling…

"Wait Paul, I don't..." Tony froze as they reached the bottom. No gym equipment, just an empty, solitary chair in the center of the room.

"Have a seat, Tony. We need to…talk." He gestured to the chair.

"But..." He remembered being confused... asking Paul where his equipment was. Being told to sit in the chair. He gripped his head, "Paul, please... what's going on?" His voice sounded small and uncertain, but he did as he was told. He sunk into the cold, hard chair.

"It's time to talk." Paul came up behind Tony and rubbed his shoulders, "But you remember that before we start talking..."

"I need to be naked." Tony mumbled, eyes dulling over.

"Good boy." Paul smirked, "Let me help you out of those clothes."

Tony hesitated, then slowly began removing his clothes under Paul's watchful gaze. First his shirt, exposing the chiseled planes of his chest and abdomen, muscles rippling with each movement. Paul circled him appraisingly.

"Look at that. Just like the day I met you. Those pecs, those abs… It's impressive." Paul's eyes roamed lower, taking in the dusting of dark hair trailing down from his navel. "Hairier too... such a shame." Finally, Tony kicked off his underwear, leaving him completely nude, "Impressive..." He gave Tony's cock a few tugs, feeling it grow in his hand, "This won't do at all. Far too large." He sighed, "I guess I can fix this... again."

"Wha... no, I need to... fix?" Tony mumbled, "Paul, I don't..."

"Shhh, just relax Tony. Imagine your limbs growing heavier. You know this feeling, don't you? The weight, the tingling in your limbs… Just like before."

As Paul spoke, Tony felt his eyelids growing heavy, his muscles relaxing against his will. And he did remember - Paul's deep voice echoing in his mind, the commands... to be something else, something better. And oh how eagerly his body responded…

"Yes, that's right. Focus on my voice. Let everything else fade away," Paul purred, circling the chair. "Starting to remember our first session?"

"I… I remember…" Tony slurred, his words thick and clumsy as he slipped deeper under Paul's sway, "You... changed me..."

"So you remember my trade? Hypnotism and psychology." Paul's voice was rich with pride. "And my research then too?"

Tony nodded, "The mind body connection." He slurred.

"And how what the mind believes can alter the body if the technique is strong enough." Paul continued, "And if the subject is weak enough."

Under the deep trance, Tony's mind flooded with vivid memories of his previous hypnotic session with Paul. He saw himself, growing smaller and softer, listening intently as Paul's voice echoed commands about shrinking, losing muscle, hair lightening to a sunny blond. Each suggestion had felt so right, so inevitable, his body eagerly complying…

"I want you to imagine your body starting to shrink, Tony," Paul commanded, "Feel yourself growing smaller, lighter. Your muscles melting away, your strength fading."

Against his will, Tony felt a tingling sensation spread through his limbs. He watched as his arms began to thin, his biceps deflating like punctured balloons. His triceps collapsing in on themselves. What were once his proud, muscular arms- ready for the life of a hockey player- were two sticks that never looked like they'd seen a dumbbell. With a pained gasp, his pecs began to cave in on themselves, flattening at an alarming rate.

"No..." A pitiful plea escaped his lips as he tried to resist, to clench his muscles and maintain his size, but it was no use. It was as if his body wanted this now, goaded on by his captor.

"That's it Tony, let it happen. Feel your shoulders narrowing, your back thinning out. All that bulky muscle just…melting away."

Tony whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he felt his once powerful back giving way. The thick delts and lats that allowed him to bench press twice his bodyweight now shriveled like raisins. His traps, the source of so much strength and power, disappeared entirely. In moments, his upper body was slim and delicate, hardly recognizable.

"Your six-pack is flattening out, Tony. Feel those defined muscles soften and melt into a smooth, flat plane."

Tony gasped as he felt the distinct ridges of his abdominals begin to blur and merge. The hard, sculpted surface giving way to softness, all definition vanishing. Tony could only run a dainty hand over his flat stomach, wincing at the lack of his proud abdominals.

"Now your legs, Tony. Those thick, powerful thighs and calves. You feel them growing slender and dainty." Paul licked his lips in anticipation.

Tony cried out as he felt the changes rippling through his lower half. His quads, once rock-hard and bulging, began to slenderize rapidly. The dense calf muscles that propelled him across the ice at incredible speeds melted away, leaving behind slim, dainty appendages. Even his feet seemed to shrink slightly, becoming soft and cute.

"Now picture your hair. Not black, but golden. Soft and fine and silky to the touch." Paul reached out and ran his fingers through Tony's locks, watching in satisfaction as the strands shifted hue and texture before his eyes.

"Pl-please..."

"Don't worry, I know. I know having this kind of equipment is too much for a vapid twink to handle." Paul again tugged at Tony's dick, "I want you to feel your cock shrinking, Tony. Diminishing in size until it's barely more than a useless nub."

Tony whimpered in despair as he felt his most masculine attribute beginning to fail him. His once impressive manhood started to dwindle, inch by agonizing inch. Within moments, what remained was a pathetic little nub that shamefully throbbed in Paul's hand.

"Perfect."

But to Tony, this was far from perfect. His mind raced, barely taking note as his body hair vanished, leaving him smooth. Didn't register his skin becoming soft, smooth, and unblemished. All he could focus on were the sudden memories of that first session. How Paul's voice wrapped around his mind like a vice, shaping his very identity. Being molded into a giggling, vapid twink, obsessed with fashion and sex.

"You... stole my life..."

Tears streamed down Tony's face as fragments of his old life surfaced- charging down the ice, stick in hand, heart pounding with exhilaration. Pushing his body to its limits at the gym, building muscle. Flirting with with chicks at parties, high-fiving his bros. None of it matched the empty-headed twink he had become and was being forced to become again.

"Paul…" He whined in a voice several octaves higher than only a few minutes ago, "Don't do this to me. Please." He begged in his slurred, slutty voice, "I remember who I used to be..."

Ignoring Tony's pitiful pleas, Paul slipped a pair of headphones over the smaller man's ears. Instantly, a repetitive monotone filled his senses, drilling Paul's instructions directly into his psyche.

"…you will submit to Paul completely. Your purpose is to serve and please him in any way he desires. Cleaning his house naked, doing his chores, serving as his house boy brings you immense joy and fulfillment. Presenting your holes for his use is your greatest pleasure…"

Tony whimpered as the voices seeped into his mind, eroding his already weakened will. He felt himself slipping, his brain felt fuzzy, less sharp, focused only on the words. The memories of his old life that had been bubbling to the surface were quickly drowning in the new images of a different life. Of Paul and all his needs. Drool trickled from his slack mouth, eyes glazing over.

"'Mh…mwh…yhyhyou?"

Paul raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Are you already that fucking brain dead that you can't talk?" He removed a single earbud, "Try again, use your words."

Tony licked his plump lips, struggling to form a coherent thought. "Wh-why… why... m...m....mmmm.... meeee?"

Paul smirked, "Because I can, Tony. Because I want to. Because seeing you reduced to my personal fucktoy and maid is the ultimate rush." He grabbed a handful of Tony's soft, doughy ass, squeezing roughly. "And this time, I'm not letting you leave. No college. No "besties". No breaking free of this new life. You belong to me now, understand? My full-time cumdump and house boy." With that, Paul shoved the headphones back into place, the hypnotic suggestions immediately flooding Tony's shattered mind once more. "Just relax and accept your new life. Serving me is all you'll be good for now."

Paul stroked his hardening cock as he watched Tony slip deeper into the trance, his eyes vacant and glassy, drool running down his chin. The sight of his former straight stud reduced to such a pathetic, brainless fucktoy never failed to arouse him. It was just like before. But this time? There would be no going back. Soon, Tony would be nothing more than a set of holes for Paul to use as he pleased, a living sex doll to fulfill his every fantasy. A live-in, slutty maid.

"I think he'll do nicely," he chuckled darkly to himself. "48 hours of reinforcement should really seal it. Then the real fun can begin." He palmed his stiffening erection, already imagining all the ways he would use his new toy. "Until then, I'll leave you to marinate."

Paul ascended the stairs and flicked off the light switch, plunging the basement into darkness, leaving his newest creation alone. And Tony remained slumped in the chair, a puddle of drool forming beneath his slack jaw. His glassy eyes stared at nothing as the words on the tape wormed their way deeper into his fractured psyche.

"Yesh… I'm P-Paul's… his per-perfect… per-perfect fuck-toy…"

His high, breathy voice echoed weakly in the dark room as he lost himself to the hypnotic haze, surrendering the last vestiges of his former self. His useless nub stiffening, his holes aching with need as he excitedly braced for the life he nearly escaped.