Alpha Booted Redneck

leather cop, highway patrol

You finally landed the cute twink who worked at your local coffee shop. It had taken months of flirting. In addition to a bit of an inside job by one of your recent twink conversions, your approach entailed wearing outfits that gradually exposed more and more of your older, muscular, extremely hairy body. At first he had only see your bearded face and maybe the black hair all over the back of your fingers and hands as you would take your coffee from him, purposefully brushing your larger, thick fingers along his. A few months later, and sick of the perpetual blue balls he was causing you, you showed up wearing a very snug, fitted t-shirt and shorts, muscle and fur on full display. The second he saw you he was visibly stunned, unable to focus on anything or speak. You passed him a piece of paper with your number, saying “time to make this happen,” and left without getting a coffee. He texted 20 minutes later. You replied that you weren’t looking for something quick, that you wanted him to spend the entire upcoming 3-day weekend at your place so you could “get to know him better.” It took him a few minutes, but you knew his lust would override any lingering concerns in the back of his mind. He liked your message, and you locked him in. He came to your place at 10am Friday morning as instructed. Given your overly swollen balls and your plans for the next 3 days, you decided that instead of the usual hypnotic manipulation, you should be upfront with this twink. You told him that your sperm would cause substantial changes to his body, a masculinization of untold proportions, and he would leave looking very different than he does now. He smiled, said that it sounded hot, clearly thinking he was going along with some fantasy. He became a little more serious when you had him sign a waiver and took a before picture. The next 3 days were some of the most intense you have had in a while. After breaking in his tight virgin hole, you battered it again and again with raw breedings every hour. By the second day, his little hole had gaped wipe open, matching the exact size of your enormous breeder cock. Of course the changes had started with the very first load, but you resisted taking any pictures until Sunday evening. As he stood in the same position as the before pic, you felt a pang of guilt for what you did to him. He would spend the next days and weeks convincing friends, family, and co-workers that it’s really him, making up some story for why he looks so different, knowing that he can’t tell them what changed him was an older hairy man’s sperm repeatedly shot deep inside of him. You flipped back and forth between the before and after pic, studying the excessive fur now coating his body, the thick mustache and beard, and of course the very advanced male pattern baldness. But you got over the momentary guilt, taking pleasure in knowing that his perfectly reshaped hole would be ready and willing to take your raw load any time you need to breed a hairy bottom pig. 

On Tour in Orange

All I want for Christmas

Coach after hours, summoning his muscleboy

Biker Bull