JACKING NOW

Few can understand the potency of technology, especially tech so advanced that it seems indistinguishable from magic. Hardly anyone noticed the changes that were being worked in the human genome by the Hierarchs behind their veil of shadows, and when people became aware that the number of women being born was declining from year to year, the changes were so pervasive that it was already too late to stop it.

Right under everyone’s noses, Hierarch Industries had managed to change the human race, elevate them into the next stage of evolution. Mundanes became vanishingly rare in the new world, replaced by a new race of man, the genders of old replaced by positions in the Hierarchy. Alphas and omegas, two parts of a greater whole. As the old human race withered away, the new race flourished.

At around the same time as the last women faded away, a small percentage of the omega population started presenting with heats, an omega equivalent to a mating season during which time their libidos spiked to hitherto unknown levels. The phenomenon was still being studied, even though scientists suspected that the Hierarchs knew all about it already, but as it so happened, Jeff had the genetic markers associated with being, as they were called, a “fertile” omega.

Jeff had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. He’d gotten into university mostly off of athletics scholarships. At first, he’d been ashamed that someone as big and manly as him was, by nature, an omega, but he’d come to enjoy the privileged position that he had on the team, with all the Alphas being protective of him as the team omega. Unfortunately, the strictures of university meant that he needed to get better at academics if he wanted to have any hope of staying on the team, so his coach suggested that he get a tutor.

David Smith was the guy that got the privilege of tutoring him. At first glance, Jeff pegged David as another omega and was eager to get to know him, but the more he observed David’s cool and confident attitude, the more he was sure that he had been mistaken. Smelling David’s musk as he got closer sealed the deal. He’d been wrong. David was an Alpha. Every bit the Alpha that his teammates were.

Not only that, but Jeff noticed something different about David’s scent. He could tell that David was unmated, but there was something different about him, a magnetism about his presence that made Jeff’s hole twitch with eagerness. He’d shut down the arousal, of course, because he figured that staying on the team was supposed to be his priority, and so for a good couple of months he managed to get by without giving in to his omega urges.

Now that David was leading him out of his lecture hall, his knees feeling like jelly, his heart hammering in his chest, his cock painfully hard in his pants and his hole desperate for attention, Jeff was beginning to think that maybe ignoring the warning signs had been a bad idea. Not that he could think all that well, given how close David was to him, how potent the smell of the swimmer was as he was led down the hallways to one of the rooms set aside for just such an occasion.

David set Jeff down on the bed and peeled his clothes off of his body. He whistled as Jeff’s cock sprang free of his underwear, flinging pre-cum all over his stomach. “I can’t say I’m disappointed it’s you,” said David as he climbed out of his own pants and straddled Jeff’s hips, rubbing their hard cocks together, his own endowment being noticeably larger than Jeff’s not-insignificant size. “I had always wished it was you. But I kept getting mixed signals…” David whispered, sliding his hands over Jeff’s sculpted body.

“How did you manage to resist all this time?” David drawled, pressing kisses up the side of one of Jeff’s firm pectoral muscles.

Jeff moaned. He wrapped his legs around David’s back. “Fuck me, Alpha…” he begged, unable to think about anything other than that big dick rubbing up against his, wishing that it was inside him, fucking him, breeding him, filling him up with cum. “Not resisting now. Please!”

David smirked and pressed his lips to Jeff’s. “Needy little omega,” he whispered. “As you wish.”

Anyone who heard the strangled cry that echoed down the hallway outside of the breeding room was not at all surprised.

Follow @KinkyPupEcho for more stories and captions. I have ebooks, too, at the following link: Ethan White @ indieerotica!

If you’re interested in the bond between Alphas and omegas, I have a series of short stories telling the tale of how Hierarch Industries, the patron and protector of Alpha and omega relationships, got started: Project ALPHA.

Saw this beauty in the gym, today. A living, breathing, perfect fucking ken doll.

See, it’s not that hard finding a guy with muscles, especially when you go hunting for them in their natural habitat - the gym. There’s beefed up iron addicts all over the place. No, the real trick is finding a guy who has it all; the muscles, the face, and the perfect cocky attitude. This one ticked all boxes.

Now, unlike with Brandon, today I felt like taking things slow. Not too slow, mind - I did want him broken in and ready by the end of the day - but slow enough to enjoy the process, to revel in the downfall of yet another pretty muscle boy.

I waited until he was resting for a second, and walked up to him. The stud’s eyes met mine, and I gave him a little smile. Just like that, I planted the first tiny seed inside his brain. 

“Here, I’ll spot you,” I said. Whether he wanted to or not, he found himself agreeing, and the muscle boy lay down on the bench. I added a couple weights to the barbell, positioned myself behind him, and helped him get started. While the beefcake got to work, I took my time admiring the sight of his ripped young body. Goddamn, he was pretty. Having his face so close to my crotch was making me real horny already. I couldn’t wait to push my boner past those lips and turn his throat into my personal cocksleeve. And that body. Fuck. I realized this wasn’t just any old roided up gymbro; he was too perfect, too shredded for that. I noticed his pits were shaven, too. I’d found myself a real, professional fitness athlete.

When he got to around 12 reps, our eyes crossed again - and I took a little bit of his strength away. The hunk frowned, suddenly feeling a lot more weight pressing down on him, and he let out a loud groan in frustration. I couldn’t actually determine the strength of his muscles, of course. I wasn’t a fucking wizard. But whenever my eyes were locked on his, I could control his mind. I didn’t make him any weaker; I made his body think it’d gotten weaker.

The handsome stud didn’t get past 16 reps before I had to intervene and grab the barbell. He was panting heavily, veins popping out of his bulging muscles, and a nice layer of sweat made his skin gleam in the light of the room.

“C’mon, big boy,” I grinned, “Is that all you got? I would’ve thought you could do at least 30, with arms like that.”

“My wrist hurt,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed by my comment. “I wasn’t holding the bar right. Let me try again.”

I let him have another go. But this time, I sent another wave of exhaustion through him when he’d only just done 6 reps. His face contorted with frustration and confusion, and I heard him curse under his breath while he tried to keep going. The stud gave everything he had. Every last bit of energy was sent toward those massive arms of his, but to no avail. His strength was gone. At 9 reps, I had to intervene again, before the bar would crush the pretty boy to death.

“What the fuck?” he growled, staring at his bulging arms in disbelief. I was enjoying this immensely. Suddenly, the king of the gym wasn’t so strong anymore.

“Seems like something’s distracting you,” I said. He looked at me, our eyes locked, and with the slightest hint of effort, I jumped into his mind.

That’s right. Jumped into his mind.

I’d only done this a couple times before - it usually took a fair bit of energy and concentration - but essentially, it allowed me to play around with the stud in his own pretty head. As if I’d taken him into a separate dimension. The rest of the world disappeared, and only the two of us remained. A bit like he was stuck in a dream, only I was the one in control.

“W-wha… what’s going on?” he stammered, trying to shake off this strange feeling. For him, everything had suddenly gone misty, as if all the files in his head had been corrupted. I stepped closer, and dug my fingers in his sweaty hair.

“I said, it seems like something’s distracting you, stud. And I think I know what it is.”

With ease, I pulled his head forward, and buried it in my crotch. I ignored his furious yelps, and made him inhale my scent. That always did well with pretty, confused muscle boys like him. After a good couple sniffs, he angrily broke free.

“Hey!! What the fu-” the hunk spat, before I slapped him in the face.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it, big boy. Look how hard your little stick has gotten, just from smelling a real man’s crotch!”

He looked down, and was suddenly buck-ass naked, glistening with sweat from head to toe. Most importantly, his fat dick was so hard it looked like it could burst. Drops of precum were already sliding down his shaft. The stud’s eyes widened in shock - I could almost hear him telling himself this wasn’t possible, this had to be some kind of nightmare. Before he could even open his mouth, I grabbed his hair and pulled his face into my crotch again.

“There, smell that,” I laughed, really pushing my groin into his pretty mug. He tried to break free, but his big arms were now weaker than straw. “Smells good, huh? Bet a fag like you craves the scent of a real man. All those muscles… all that body… and yet you’re nothing more than a filthy, pervy little bitch…”

“N-no,” he tried, his voice muffled by my crotch, “I-I’m not - I’m not gay!!”

I laughed again, and pulled down my shorts. I buried his face in my boxers, and the muscle boy gasped instinctively. The pheromones slammed into him, turning this big, beefy alpha into a meek little pup. Still, he tried to pull himself away. This was his subconscious trying to fight back, trying to hold onto any last bit of control. It was pathetic.

“Lick,” I ordered. Not a suggestion. The hunk’s body shuddered in response, and he looked up at me with confused, vulnerable eyes. Tentatively, he opened his mouth, and brought his tongue forward. As soon as he made contact with the fabric of my underwear, my taste hit him like a ton of bricks. A little whine escaped his throat, and he fell to his knees.

“Doesn’t that taste nice?” I chuckled, and he nodded eagerly. “You can taste the real thing, boy. All you have to do is surrender.”

“B-but… I-I…” he mumbled. So confused, so defeated. His subconsciousness was clinging on for dear life, but I was breaking down every last part of his defenses. It shouldn’t be much longer.

“Come on, stud. Surrender.”

His tongue was driving me nuts, slowly moving up and down, only one little layer of fabric separating my privates from his mouth. It was an incredible sight, seeing this perfect, hypermuscular gym rat on his knees, naked and afraid. I was conquering him from within his own brain.

“P…lease… I-I… c..an’t….”

I pulled down my boxers, and let him take in the glory of my boner. His eyes shot open, and a gasp escaped his throat. I finally felt the last bits of his subconscious fading out, like the embers of a dying fire. He had lost.

I pried his lips open, and stuffed his handsome face with my cock. My scent, my taste - everything crashed into him at once. I saw his sculpted body relax, his mouth eagerly took my rod, and his pretty eyes glazed over.

“That’s a good boy. Surrender,” I said.

With a loud, defeated moan, the stud shot his load onto my shoes. With my cock in his mouth, and without a single touch on his own little dicklet, he came. His beautiful, naked body shuddered and squirmed as I conquered him. All those muscles, all that man, all that beauty was mine, now. Every little bit of resistance had come out with his big, juicy load. A true surrender. 

I jumped back out of his mind, and returned the both of us to reality. All of that had happened in just a fraction of a second. Nobody had noticed anything, everything around us was still the same - except for one thing.

“Look at that,” I grinned, looking down upon the broken fitness athlete. In his sweatpants, a nice little wet spot had appeared by his crotch. The semen of defeat.

“Told you something was distracting you. Everything alright, stud?”

With his gorgeous, submissive eyes locked on mine, the hunk descended to the ground. He didn’t care that everyone around us was looking. He no longer cared about anyone but me.

I took his beautiful face in my hand, and he whined like a scared little pup. “What’s that, boy?” I whispered, “What do you want?”

“P-please….” he sobbed, tears falling down his heated cheeks, “L..et…. t-taste…… taste y-your c..ock….”

As we waited for take-off, I held the kid’s phone out in front of my face and took a couple of selfies. On the second one, I thought to put my arm behind my head, giving his biceps a big flex. Damn! His arms were huge! That’s what had drawn me to him in the first place as I saw him boarding the plane… Those big arms making easy work of carrying his over-stuffed duffel bag. And then that adorable face! Those glasses, that scruff… I didn’t even have time to see where he was going, all I knew was that I had to hop into him before he got onto the plane and left the airport.

I glanced at the seat next to me just in time to see my alien friend transform into an exact replica of me! He grew from an innocent little slime ball to the size of a grown man before my eyes. He took on my physical features and even matched my t-shirt and jeans. Goddamn it was hot seeing myself from the third person. I couldn’t help but be at least a little turned on.

There he was, Aaron Carter, the dumb spoiled college dropout who still thought he was the hottest jock around - and for the most part he was damn right. After using his dad’s card (again) to buy some useless things from Amazon, he was surprised to be going through the box to find a webcam.

“Weird, I definitely don’t remember getting this,” muttered Aaron but then he smiled. His phone camera hadn’t been working for several days and how could he possibly go for so long without showing his bros his progress from the gym, right? Even if it was a bit old fashioned, Aaron sat back down on his computer chair, raising his arm and flexing to make sure to take the best pictures of himself and his muscled body. 

After a while and a few pictures later all capturing Aaron shirtless and cocky as ever as he began looking for the best one. “Oh yeah this is hot.”

It was suddenly when the webcam editor popped up that Aaron rolled his eyes. Usually these kind of software were trash, their edits were terrible and wouldn’t do much. But it wasn’t so much the software itself, but rather the names of these templates that were odd. “Beach Bum”, “Great Cowboy”, and one in particular “Soldier Stud.”

He saved the picture already as ‘Aaron Carter’, if anything bad were to happen he could just cancel.

“These are weird,” Aaron chuckled under his breath as he settled on “Soldier Stud”, suddenly watching as his image change as he started to see his own body on screen covered by a tight green outfit. “God I knew this was crap, it doesn’t even look real. This is-” It was when Aaron tried to reach over to his mouse that he suddenly looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he saw his own sleeve was covered in the same tight dirty green outfit that was on screen. “What the fuck?”

Aaron tried to move over to the mouse but he couldn’t anymore, at first he thought the baggy sleeves were tightening on him but it was something else. His own arms were suddenly beginning to bulge to the point where they were causing the sleeves to be wrapped tightly around his biceps. His own muscular growth causing him to be unable to stop what he thought was insanity…and also extremely hot.

“Oh fuck! Wait what if I-” Aaron mumbled, his thoughts growing jumbled as the feeling of the outfit being so tightly wrapped around his muscles made him hard. The euphoria of his own body growing was enough to cause him to feel waves of pleasure rushing down to his cock as he started to click on his chest and begin to drag a tab labelled “Chest Size”, making it larger and larger. 

And with every number that increased from the higher than average 30 to the maximum 50, Aaron could feel his own pecs jutting out to the point where his nipples perked up. Now as sensitive as the head of his cock as they rubbed against his new military uniform, one that he was so proud to be in!

Fuck yeah!

He loved having his great giant pecs and his big nipples touch it and he only wanted more. He suddenly clicked on his own thighs and changed the “Thigh Size” to a gigantic fifty as he could see what slivers of skin provided by the bottom half of his legs in the picture became a camo green as his lats strengthened whilst he dragged his cursor over to enable his legs to became larger and more muscular. 

But the best part wasn’t the fact that his own toes stretched out as he could feel steel-toed boots adorning them, or the fact that he could feel his own hair was growing more lighter by the moment. But it was his own cock.

Aaron clicked on his bulge only once but could feel like someone had already grabbed it as he watched another window pop up, ready to edit. But instead of girth or size, there was only something else, another window that simply said: Orgasm?

There was only one option and Aaron couldn’t handle it any longer. He clicked it and moaned out loud as his cock vibrated all at once as if was being activated and cum spilled out of the head of his cock.

He groaned, getting up, but not before making one final change.

Do you want to overwrite the file ‘Aaron Carter’?

Aaron clicked yes, ready to enjoy his new self and maybe let another deadbeat friend of his try out his camera. After all, he could do with a partner in the military.

Gay yard sales are one of my favorite things. You never know what you’ll find- some campy tchotchkes, or old Tom of Finland drawings, costume jewelry…

Well, this last month, I happened on this big old Victorian house having an estate sale, and it was clear that it had been some old queen. Vintage clothes, black and white photos of two men in rather scandalous poses, some really great furniture, all kinds of good queer stuff.

But I saw this book, and flipping through it, it just stuck with me. It was new, but had pictures of various men in different locations and different times. Patrick, Dublin, 1997. Omar, NYC, 2006. Haruto, Tokyo, 1978. None of them professional models per se, but sexy, confident… *real.* The book had no publisher listed and was probably just some private vanity project.

It was ten bucks, and I thought it would make the perfect coffee table book, so I slapped down two fives and went on my way. That night when horny, instead of visiting my typical sites, I flipped casually through the book. I happened upon this gorgeous Czech man in Prague, from 1985, Bovza- dark features, intense eyes, hairy chest. I started stroking myself, unable to tear my eyes from the page, and soon, I was shooting all over my chest.

I grabbed a towel next to my bed to wipe off and then, rubbing, I was shocked to see hair on my normally smooth chest.

“What the-?” I said, and then stopped. My voice seemed deeper, and had some kind of European accent. My skin was darker, my hands rough… I ran to a mirror and stared in shock as the intense gaze of Bovza stared back. I ran back to the book- I was a dead ringer for the sexy Czech man, from head to toe.

After a healthy amount of self-exploration, I spent the rest of the day as Bovza, barely fitting into my old clothes. It was strange- I was still myself, with all of my old memories, but some parts of Bovza’s personality kept seeping through. He was quieter, more intense. And at the bar that night, I found myself skipping my normal rum and coke for a Pilsner.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, back in my old body. Flipping through the book, I saw a new page that hadn’t been there before- Joey, Boston, 2017. And there I was, wearing the same thing I’d been wearing the day before when I first found the book!

I’ve spent the last month figuring out the rules of the book and as far as I can tell, when I jerk off to a picture of one of the guys, I find myself in their body until I next go to sleep. Sometimes their personalities are a bit stronger than others- one guy was bi, and I even found myself fucking a woman for the first time in 15 years! It’s been a non-stop string of adventures since- Vlad, Moscow, 1954. Alfredo, Rome, 1967. Billy, Houston, 2012.

But today, as you can see, is Jose. I grinned as I felt his bushy mustache grow above my lip and hair dusted my legs as my frame grew slimmer, toned. Christ, I’d kill for a cigarette right now, I thought, even though I didn’t smoke.

Maybe some day, I’ll have to give up the book to someone else, let it continue its journey. And then, someone else may be taking my body out for a night.

“Sure thing bro,” I said.  “She’s like so ready to go now.  You mind if I ditch you and Phil here?  You’re just gonna drag him home and fuck his brains out, right?”  Phil and Darren had been together for months now, and the routine was easy to follow.  I’d never have guessed Phil for a gaybro til Darren and him started fucking, but whatever right?

“Well…since you asked,” Darren said, “I don’t think Phil’s coming back to my place tonight.  It’s been getting a little boring.  Think it’s time for something new.”

“Yeah?  No way, you’ll break his heart dude,” I said.

“Look at me Vince,” he said.

So I did.  And that was my mistake I guess.

“It doesn’t matter,” Darren said.  There was something…different about his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” I repeated back.

“Vince doesn’t want to go home with Chelsea,” Darren said.

“Vince doesn’t want to go home with Chelsea,” I repeated.

“Vince doesn’t want to go home with any woman,” Darren said.

“Vince doesn’t want to go home with any woman,” I repeated.

Vince looked confused.

“Vince wants to go home with a man,” Darren said.

“Vince wants to go home with a man,” I repeated.

Vince looked more confused.

“Vince loves going home with men.” Darren said.

“Vince loves going home with men.” I repeated.

Vince’s face split open with a big grin.

“Vince wants to go home with Darren,” Darren said.

“Vince wants to go home with Darren,” I repeated.

“So Vince, you think you’re gonna get lucky with Chelsea tonight?” Darren asked me.

“Haha bro, shut up, like I’d go home with some chick,” I said like it was the most natural thing in the world.  Then I breathed deep, leaned in and kissed Darren hard.

I lifted Darren up and put him on the bathroom counter.  Then I leaned in and kissed him again, then again, and again.  After some time, he broke it off.

“Let’s go dance,” he said.

“Let’s go dance,” I repeated.

We were grinding on the club floor when Phil came up.

“Oh my god, Darren!  What the fuck?!” Phil yelled.

Chelsea just looked at the situation and walked away.  Smart girl.

Darren looked him right in the eye.  “It doesn’t matter,” he said.  “Phil will find some other dude to take home.”

“I doesn’t matter,” Phil said.  “Phil will find some other dude to take home.”

Phil got that look in his eye, the one he always used to get when he was on the prowl for a woman.  He looked across the bar and saw this older guy, obviously a flamer, leaning against the bar and chatting with the bartender.  We couldn’t hear the conversation over the loud club music, but Phil was ordering jagerbombs and was out the door like ten minutes later.

No wonder you beseeched me, I mean who wouldn’t want Luke Guldan as a sex slave. That hot body doing everything you wanted making every sexual desire come alive, with burning passion. But is it enough? I mean really, think about it, he basically will have no free will anymore and free will is what makes things more meaningful. Alas, this is what you desire, so I shall evoke the gloaming, the fires of change, I shall evoke the magic to help rearrange.

Unfortunately, Mr. Guldan has protected himself with a useful spell case by a mediocre witch he found at a supernatural-con. I guess I didn’t realize this, which is a problem since I actually already call forth the powers of the universe to strip him of his free will. This spell of deflection, reflection, and protection might have some less than desired effects on you, since the desire was yours to begin with. 

I should probably leave, since I am not certain what is going to happen to you and I don’t want to get stuck with the clean up. Suddenly something starts to happen, and I become curious, better pop that Poppins umbrella out in case of quick escape. 

YOu start to grope at yourself, like you are trying to get rid of something on your skin. That’s when I realize your skin is tightening, and you seem to be getting taller. Moaning in pain, moaning in pleasure, your muscles expand and contract. Your nerves are on fire, you’re rubbing yourself like a slut in heat as the body hair pulls back into your skin. The moans become deeper as your hair begins to fall from your head, being pushed out by new, blonde hair. I watch your face contort in pain and pleasure and it becomes the jaw of champions and the smile to end all smiles. 

You were so thrilled, until you suddenly became hard, then something changed inside of you. YOu grabbed your head, something was pulling, twisting, sex, sex, sex sex, fuck,, “Nooo,” you moaned but your free will was being stripped, your experiences, you ability to be autonomous, gone. You needed sex with your master, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Little did you know, my spell shattered the witches magic, and Luke had become you. You were his sex slave now, you would obey every command, no thoughts involved. In a twisted sort of way, you got what you wanted, just with a karmic role reversal….Enjoy Luke

I love human males so much. They’re the easiest thing to capture and the sensations that they give off during the process is exquisite. You see my species is a parasitic one in nature that evolves by assimilating organic material into our formless bodies. We’re gelatinous in nature, easily camouflaging ourselves to mimic small bodies of water. Our touch can paralyze our prey, and numb them via hormones we inject into them. 

This jogger found out about the that the hard way. He was doing what I assume is his daily jogging routine, when he stepped into my idle form. The impact of the movement, caused my body to splash onto him. This little bit of contact was enough to freeze him into place. I am young, so I believe I have only been alive for a few days, slowly searching for food and look at my first course. I slowly enveloped his legs, working my way up. I was still translucent so he looked liked he froze in place, covered in sweat. The first hole I discovered was on a limb that was elongated, between his legs. I began to enter it. As I entered his body, I could feel his shudder, and his breathing patterns change. I began to spread throughout him, slowly, his body expanding slightly as I expanded into him. When I reached his brain, I began to experience his memories. At this point I realized that I was assimilating him into me. With my new eyes, I looked around, with my ears I heard things, I could smell the sweat on my body. Everything was so different that it was exhilarating, intoxicating. I wanted more. Thankfully this guy had a friend nearby, and I am positively famished.

I jogged over to my next prey’s house, the jog was phenomenal, legs are amazing. From my new memories I grabbed the spare house key and let myself in. Once inside, I listened for any movement inside. I could hear someone moving upstairs, so I silently went up to investigate. Looking through a slightly opened door, I saw the younger brother of my intended prey. 

Look at him, flexing in that speedo, taking pictures. With him being so engrossed in that, I crept up on him. He didn’t notice my approach, he was too focused on his phone. That proved to be his greatest mistake. I grabbed him from behind, and I forcibly locked our lips together. He attempted to struggle, but my saliva had taken on the paralysis toxin that my original form had, so he froze up. I smiled, and I traced the outline of his ear. I slowly traced his pecs and abs, working down his torso. When my hand found the waistline of his speedo, I tilted my head and my smile grew wicked as I tore it off him. I dropped my shorts, and threw off my shoes and socks. Both of us standing naked together, and I could see the fear, as well as pleasure, well up in his eyes as I moved behind him. I pressed my chest against his back and ran my arms across his. I inserted my dick into his and began to gyrate. I could feel his heart rate increase as I sped up.I could feel it become harder to separate myself from his body as we were slowing fusing together. A few minutes later, there was no longer two individuals in the room, but just me. I loved that my strength had increased, I grabbed some compression pants from a drawer and grabbed my phone from my discarded shorts to take a selfie.

I smiled, I had become stronger, more fed than before, but I am still starving. Then I heard door open, and a grunt as someone threw a heavy bag.

“Yo bro, bring shit down here so I can start the wash!” called up a new voice, the older brother of my recent prey had shown up. 

I could only smile, my intended prey had finally arrived. I grabbed some clothes lying around, as well as the other phone and went downstairs. I saw that my “brother” had removed his shirt and was taking pictures of himself in the mirror. 

He was a skater, and not as strong as his bodybuilder of a younger brother, but I wanted him regardless. He didn’t notice anything different about me as I approached. I had assimilated his brother, but he was just as oblivious to me as he was. I dropped the clothes I was holding and grabbed his arms. I caused him to drop his phone, and the confused look he had on his face was the last expression he have. I kissed him and he froze in place. Not wanting to waste any time, I tore off his shorts, knocked off his hat, and stripped myself as well. I pulled him over the washing machine, and repeated the same process I had just got done doing to his brother. Since I had assimilated his brother already, he was quicker to assimilate. The DNA similarities allowed for a rather disappointing finish and process, for it was just too quick. 

I collected his phone and went upstairs to the boys’s shared bathroom. I grabbed some clean underwear and shorts and put them on. As I stared at my new reflection looking at  how my form now showed traits from all three of my victims, I couldn’t help but smile and laugh. I admired how my muscles flexed in response to my subtle movements.

Then the older brother’s phone buzzed. I looked at the new message.

“Bro, you comin to the pool? Bring my shorts too"

I smiled and looked down. I was currently wearing the shorts in question and after sifting through the memories, I knew who I was dealing with. I wasn’t nearly as hungry as earlier, but I wanted to spoil myself. I sent a reply and grabbed the older brothers skateboard, the three phones, and left to meet my dessert.

To be continue?

There was a catch, which he failed to mention. You would find out soon enough. He slid his hands under your shirt, pulling it off, gently caressing your chest as he did.

He started at your midsection, massaging you, running his hands over you. He laid you down on your stomach, pressing into the tension of your back. Undoing the knots, relieving the constant pain. The massage seemed to last forever.

He flipped you over, massaging your chest again, except this time his hands were like a sculpters, he sculpted your body into your perfect form. His hands adding strength to your arms, chest and shoulders. His sculpted your stomach into a perfect 8 pack.

You had drifted off, unaware of the changes. His hands gently dragging up your torso, to your face. You were vaguely aware that your face felt different as his hands molded it info a perfect models face.

His hands made their way to your temples. Massaging your head, draining you like a kegger at a frat party. All stress and tension draining. The thoughts that once overwhelmed you slipped away.

The stars aligned somehow, and literally while I was writing this story, @rapids0 asked for the very same premise. So, maybe he himself is marked. ;)

Braeden was your typical Instagram-famous selfie star. Adorable, innocent, good natured, and of course, a bit vain. He had approximately 42,000 followers, who worshipped his every move. To any outsider, Braeden was the most fortunate kid around! He came from a poor background, but with the strangest stroke of luck around every decision, nothing bad ever seemed to come his way. He released a song he wrote on Youtube, he had 100,000 views. He drew up an anime character while bored in class: a designer saw the clothing it was wearing and bought the design for $30,000. No matter what this kid did, it always turned out for the better. Behind the scenes, and unbeknownst to him, a dark force swarmed constantly swarmed about him. 

One bright and sunny day, Braeden was doing his typical Friday vlog in Ramsden Park, when in the corner of his eye, he spotted a strange boy watching him from behind a tree. This vlog, however retained his absolute attention, as it was regarding his upcoming 20th birthday. The video was of the utmost importance! Yet, a strange headache began to plague him. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was like an electric shock, radiating from his head to his toes. 

He concluded his vlog, wincing from the pain, and placed his iPhone on the picnic table beside him. Glancing upward, Braeden noticed the strange man was still staring at him! He was no older than Braeden, with dark black hair and haunting eyes. He was wearing all leather, adorned with spikes and zippers, and a pair of black combat boots. Casually leaning against the trunk of the tree, the man’s crossed arms insinuated a less than friendly demeanor about him. Despite all this, Braeden felt nothing less than untouchable- a devout bravery he’d come to be known by.

The strange migraine began to throb even worse, his skin crawling with goosebumps. Deciding to pay no attention to the foreboding man, he packed up his things and walked to the nearby bathrooms, hoping to take some Zyrtec or Ibuprofen. He twisted the sink faucet, and cold water flowed out the spigot, filling his water bottle. Just as he turned the knob to cut the flow, the lights shut off, engulfing him in complete darkness. A soft laughter began to echo throughout the cavernous room, steadily growing louder until the weight of the sound forced Braeden to cover his ears. 

“Well, well, well. Little Braeden. It’s been a long time.” Braeden fell to the floor, sliding backward until he felt the comfort of the cold cinderblock wall. “My you’ve grown into a sexy little thing, haven’t you? You’re eternally welcome for that little handiwork.” 

“Who the fuck are you!” Braeden shouted at the disembodied voice, holding back any terrified stutters in his tone. 

“Ahh, it’s not who I am that’s important. It’s who you are. Haven’t you ever wondered why you have such an ideal, picture perfect life? Why nothing unfortunate or sad has ever fell upon you? Did you really think it was luck?” Braeden shivered at the thought, trying his best to maintain an ounce of composure. “I can guarantee you that no normal person lives the life you live. That’s called divine intervention. Or, rather, demonic intervention.” A fanged smirk glowed in the darkness across the room, graced with a decadent tongue licking invisible lips.

“It’s time to pay up, Bray. I held up my end of the bargain.” Braeden cried at the growing prospect of violence. “Oh come now, it’ll be nice. Would I lie to you, my little ingenue? Would I lie to your parents?” Those words struck him like a brick. “Oh yes. Your parents. I wouldn’t have been able to help you all these years without their unmitigated blessing. It was a delicious deal, and I’ve come to collect our agreed fee.”

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker, and before Braeden could jump up to escape, an unseen force restrained him, locking him to the cold tile floor. Tears flowed from his eyes like waterfalls. Before his eyes, he saw the staring man approaching him, slowly and steadily. His black boots squeaked with every step growing closer and closer.

“C’mon. It’ll be fun. I promise you’re gonna like it just as much as I do.” The man grasped him by the throat, his body being raised up the wall. “Open up, Bray.” The demon’s face distorted into a terrifying scream, before a thick black goo spewed from his mouth and into Braeden’s. Tasting like tar and brimstone, the slime forced it’s way down Braeden’s throat, coating everything it touched in it’s revolting sludge. Braeden closed his eyes, hoping for a quick end as he choked and writhed. The room echoed in bellowing laughter. Mirrors shattered and steaming water streamed from the sinks. In seconds, the strange boy was gone, and Braeden sat slumped against the wall. Just then, another young man entered the bathroom, only to discover the immense devastation. 

“Whoa! Hey, are you okay?” The boy ran to Braeden’s side, kneeling over him. Braeden groaned, his white hair covering his face.

“Better than ever.” A harsh, yet silky voice slithered out of his mouth, twisted into a evil smirk. Grasping the boy by the face, Braeden pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss, easily restraining his futile attempts to push him off. The boy squirmed and gagged, feeling Braeden’s forked tongue invade his throat. Pulling himself away, he ran to the exit, but not before glancing behind him at his assailant; and for a brief moment, he didn’t see the strikingly handsome white-haired boy, but in his place kneeled a black-haired, leather clad man, glancing at him with haunting black eyes.

Ayyye you fuckin’ Posh cunt, why donthcha watch where yer fuckin goin!

Edgar was too busy on his phone to notice the scally lad he just ran into, knocking coffee all over the lad. 

“Sorry mate, let me get you new clothes,” Edgar said apologetically

“Crack,” the scally knocked Edgar out cold. Picked his Posh ass up and dragged him back to his council flat. The lad stripped Edgar down, shit him up with some substance mixed with his cum and put some crusty old clothes on Edgar. 

Edgar woke up, his whole body on fire, he couldn’t speak, he could barely think but his cock was rock hard. 

“Now you stupid cunt, everything I tell you is true and when I am done, you’ll ne my fuckin’ flat mate.” 

“First, you are a chav, you din’t finish no kind of school and you love to drink and have sex. You love to keep fit so you can stick that dick in anything with legs. You’re dumb as a rock mate, I’m the closest thing you have to family and you would do anything for me.”

The changes happened rapidly, his lean body bulked ouit, his hair got shorter, cock growing like mad, and his eyes were glazing over with some dumb fuck look. His mind faded away and a new chav persona took over. All he wanted was to get his fucking rocks off and fuck.

Oh, and one more thing, your name…It’s Declan O’Shea, your one stupid horny Irish fucker. 

The lad was glad that he got rid of one more Posh fuck, thinkin their better than everybody. Not anymore, stupid fucker gonna watched footie, rugby, drink and fuck

A Commission for the adorable sweetheart @tfstuphs

“Just like this bruh.” Jim watched intently as Kai let out a huge cloud of Purple Haze, analyzing the drag. Inhale deeply, then pull the stop. It seemed pretty clear, yet there was still that innate hesitation as his stoner dudebro roommate handed him the bong.

When Jim arrived at the University of Hawaii, he knew that his family wouldn’t be able to commandeer his life any longer. After years of being stuffed into suits and forced to be the “good boy” for his entire life, he was done. He wanted a little bit of chaos. He loved the idea of just tokin up at enjoying the high, or fuckin’ shit up on the regular. So when he walked into his room on move in day to see some smelly bro hotboxing the room, he knew that he was finally going to experience life.

“Okay, so just inhale and pull the head out. The smoke will hit you all at once.” Kai tossed his arm around his little disciple, excited to see what the bong had in store for Jim. It had hit him in one very impressive way, turning him from some chess club savant to the nonchalant, lazy bro he was today. He was proud of his ability to disconnect and help others reach his nirvana, and looking at this cute little guy with the perfectly coiffed hair in his blazer and tie, he knew this would be a big transition

Jim stared at the menacing bong: it clearly didn’t have ‘RIP’ embossed on it for no reason. The murky brown water sat stagnant at the bottom of the basin, as if it were waiting for him to take his first drag. He placed his lips onto the opening and flicked the lighter. It took a few times, but he got the feeble flame going eventually. He looked at Kai, that sexy bro who took him under his wing. He couldn’t disappoint him, and he was ready to be who he always wanted to be.

The flame graced the bowl and it immediately ignited the glowing, orange embers. He inhaled deeply, feeling nothing at first, watching the weed slowly burn to the bottom of the sizeable bowl. Kai watched in shock at the insane hit Jim was about to take, and couldn’t help but smile. He snatched the plug and pulled it, giggling as the smoke rushed into Jim’s lungs. Immediately, Jim began to choke on the cloud, roughly coughing the burning sensation out of his spasming chest.

As a mother does to her child, Kai smacked his little pupil’s back, in effect burping him. So for him, watching the first gimmers of change were a matter of pride. Immediately, Jim’s doubled over stance grew in mass & bulk, shooting up to a strong 6′7.

“Hold it in, bro. There’s still some down there.” Jim did his best to follow his ‘master’s advice, and held his breath, not even noticing his change in stature. Kai watched as Jim’s black blazer and blue tie began to meld together like liquids converging. Within a matter of seconds, he had on a soft, well weathered tee shirt. Kai decided it was time for part 2.

Jim took the offered little white pill from Kai, and popped it in his mouth. Ecstasy. His entrance into the big leagues. Feeling the shocking effects from the weed already setting in, he leaned up against the driftwood log in the forest and slumped to the ground. Kai popped his pill and sauntered over to his rapidly changing bro and sat next to him, pulling out a cigarette. He watched as Jim’s perfectly jelled hair became messier, more relaxed, more natural, as his muscles became defined and lean. It would take a few more hits of the bong to really get the build Kai expected, but for now, that lean, athletic otterbod would do just fine.

“Fuck dude, I’m high as shit.” Kai stared at Jim, shocked that those words came out of his lips. Then again, they were much plumper and kissable now, perfect. He stared at Jim’s beautiful face, silver piercings beginning to pop out of his rough, sexy skin. His expensive black dress pants had already shifted into ripped, slim black jeans. This kid was becoming a bonafide stud! “Whatchyu lookin’ at, Kai?” A smartass, yet innocent cock of the head to the side sent shivers down Kai’s spine. Jim’s rough, calloused hands began to slide onto his thighs. 

“Nahh, bruh. You’re becoming one dreamy fuckin’ stud.” Jim laughed, showing that million dollar smile. With a quick pluck of his fingers, he snatched Kai’s cigarette right out of his mouth, taking a few nice drags. Kai ran his fingers over Jim’s beautifully tattooed neck and arms, before catching a whiff of a familiar stoner musk. “Dude, lift up your arms.” Without a second thought, Jim lifted the sleeved arm, giving Kai a full force hit of his manly musk. 

It was only the first time and he was this studly. Kai was beginning to look at his roomie in a new way, as he took in the delicious salty pit stink. A loud tearing sound denoted the destruction of his dress shoes, and entrance of trashed chucks. Jim was truly a sight to behold, about to take on the university by storm. Aggressively, yet lovingly, he grabbed Kai’s sweat-covered face and pulled the equally musky bro into a tongue-filled make out session. Hands fell wherever they landed, bulges throbbed under their denim confinements, footsie commenced accordingly as if they were made for eachother.

Within minutes, the last shreds of the old Jim were gone. He embraced his new, carefree, sexy self with ease. No more ties. No more blazers. Puling away from his tongue-lock, he stared at his new boy-toy bro, knowing exactly what was gonna happen back at the room that night.

Just Getting Snacks

“We’re just getting snacks.” I said to Billy as the sliding glass doors wheezed open. I was talking to Billy who zipped up his red hoodie. He didn’t want to come inside but with a little bit of convincing and an online lesson in hypnotism made him come in with nothing but a grumpy face and an aggressive zip. He was already ready.

Commission for @enjoypolioinfants

“Dude, when I say any wish, I mean any wish.” Michael was of course skeptical when some guy approached him after he helped an elderly blind man cross the street, blathering on about wish granting. What made him much less skeptical was the fact that the very same dude was now inside his new apartment, lounging on some boxes. 

“What the fuck? Get out of my house, dude!” Michael shouted as he rushed the smirking man, doing his best to front a confrontational facade. The guy seemed completely unphased. Just before he landed a punch on the guy’s jaw, he held out his hand, nonchalantly blocking the blow. In the blink of an eye, the world seemingly stopped moving. Michael was frozen in mid stride, arm wound up for the punch. The dude got up and began to walk around him, examining him very closely, and provocatively.

“C’mon bro. Don’t waste my time. I got a lot more people to make happy today, and you’re just stop number 29,283.” The man snapped his fingers, restarting time, and Michael flew head first into the hard white boxes. Shivering with absolute fear and adrenaline, he sat cowering among the luggage, contemplating his next move. “Don’t bother rushing me again, bro. It’s not worth it. Just tell me what you want most, so I can move on. Sky’s the limit.” Michael sat whimpering, eyes darting from right to left, trying to find out an escape route.

“I don’t know!” He shouted, bolting toward the front door of his apartment. Not before he was once again held mid stride by the confinements of time. 

“Okay. I guess we have to do this the hard way, dude. I tried to be chill.” The magical man strode up to Michael’s frozen body, and put his warm, calloused hand on his temple. Something about the man became calming and reassuring, while he mumbled something in an ancient tongue long forgotten. Before long, the man had opened his eyes, and a heart melting smile broke out across his smug face. “Ahh. I see. You like me, eh?” Michael’s eyes bulged out of his sockets, and he blushed a bright red. “No worries, my dude. We can make a go of it, but you’re not exactly my type. So we have to make a few adjustments.” The dude winked at Michael before rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “So, let’s get started.”

The dudebro gingerly began to circle around Michael, still frozen in the air. A whisper in his ear caught him off guard. “I like my men a bit… carefree.” A sharp sensation of vacuum enveloped his head, as Michael felt every last care, worry, bit of intelligence fly away. There was nothing left but an empty mind and blank expression on his face. “Much better. Let’s see what we can do here.” The dude ran his calloused fingers and palms down Michael’s arms. Goosebumps formed, and quickly the muscles spasmed. In seconds, the arms grew twice their normal size, bulking in mass & muscle. Veins bulged out of his forearms and biceps, while meaty, round shoulders capped off his gigantic arms. 

“There we go. Now, my guy has to be built like a god.” The man thrust his arms and hands under his arms and groped Michael’s chest, which quickly formed into rock hard pecs & sensitive little nipples. The dude’s hands floated south, defining an ample six pack and lean obliques. Sliding into his pants, the dude’s hands grasped ahold of his meager cock & balls, stroking it to full attention. Yet, it grew… And grew… And grew until it’s massive size and girth peaked out of his new grey shorts. 

“Atta boy. Let’s keep going.” A quick grope of his ass plumped a nice bubble butt, and tight quads & hamstrings. The man got down onto his knees, and began to massage Michael’s feet, growing them into perfect, high arched size 13 paws. He stood up, admiring his work. “But there’s something still missing… Oh yeah. Duh.”

He put his hands on Michael’s cheeks, and brought him into a velvety, romantic kiss. The deeper the dudebro went, the more he felt his familiarity & love for this bro. Mikey’s gigantic arms wrapped around his magic man, tightly holding him in a passionate tongue-lock. Michael was no more, unrecognizable, for all intent and purpose, deceased. In his place stood Mikey, the relentlessly hot himbo, dumb as a bag of rocks, but heart enough to share. He pulled away from Graham, and smiled his typical dim grin. “You gotta go to work, babe?” 

Graham smiled at his perfect companion. “Yeah, boo. I’ll be back for dinner. You can lift while I’m gone.” Graham walked out the door into the world, while Mikey stayed behind, and began to bench press.