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As he ventured deeper into the corridors of the abandoned tire factory, the thrill of exploration pulsed through his veins. With each step, he captured the decaying remnants of industrial machinery on his camera, his excitement evident in every word he spoke to his audience.

Little did he know, amidst the shadows lurked a solitary figure—the spirit of a mechanic who once toiled tirelessly within these walls. His eyes followed the vlogger's every move, his presence concealed by the darkness.

As the vlogger continued to document his journey, a subtle creak echoed through the desolate chambers, drawing his attention. His heart quickened, a mix of adrenaline and curiosity coursing through him. Unbeknownst to him, it was the sound of the mechanic's footsteps, inching closer with each passing moment.

With a sudden chill down his spine, the vlogger paused, sensing a presence lingering just beyond his sight. But before he could turn around, a metallic clang shattered the silence, reverberating through the abandoned factory like a warning.

Caught off guard, he spun around, his camera trembling in his grip. Yet, all he found was the empty void of the factory floor, shrouded in darkness. Unnerved but undeterred, he shrugged off the momentary unease, chalking it up to his imagination.

The mechanic watched from the shadows, his gaze unwavering, a silent observer of this reckless intrusion into his domain. As the vlogger pressed on, unaware of the eyes that followed his every move, the true mystery of the abandoned tire factory began to unravel—a tale of forgotten souls and restless spirits, waiting to be discovered.

As he ventured further into the dimly lit corridors of the abandoned tire factory he stumbled upon a heap of clothing accompanied by scattered cell phones, remnants of their former owners. His every step seemed to echo with a sense of foreboding. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay and forgotten memories. Suddenly, a subtle stickiness gripped the soles of his shoes, slowing his pace. With a sinking feeling, he realized something was amiss.

His shoe became ensnared in a thick, viscous substance. Panic surged through him as he struggled to free himself, but with each frantic tug, the adhesive seemed to tighten its grip. Then, in a sickening squelch, his foot broke free, landing squarely in a pool of murky black liquid that oozed across the factory floor. The sensation was nauseating as the thick substance enveloped his toes, sending shivers down his spine. Desperation took hold as he attempted to retrieve his other foot, only to find it ensnared in the same sticky trap. With a mixture of disgust and dread, he wrenched his foot free, only to have it plunge into the same dark, gelatinous pool, the liquid squishing between his toes like some grotesque embrace. His camera slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud, the feed abruptly cut, plunging his viewers into darkness.

Panic rising, he realized the gravity of his situation. Trapped in a web of unknown substance, the once thrilling adventure had turned into a nightmare. And as he struggled to break free, the shadows seemed to close in around him, concealing the mechanic's silent watch from afar—a silent witness to his unwitting descent into the factory's grim embrace. Despite the uncertainty swirling around him, the sensation of the icy black liquid enveloping his feet sent an unexpected thrill coursing through his veins. Each squish and squelch seemed to awaken a primal excitement within him. Lost in the bizarre ecstasy of the moment, he didn’t hear the footsteps getting closer. In the silence, just as the allure of the black liquid seemed to consume his senses, a sudden presence shattered his trance. With a start, he turned to see the silhouette of the mechanic emerging from the shadows, a figure both menacing and enigmatic. But as his attention flickered to the approaching figure, the fear of being caught dawned upon him.

The once docile black rubber, seemingly dormant, began to stir with a life of its own. Slowly, almost hypnotically, it crept up over his toes, enveloping his feet in a sinister embrace. With each passing second, the rubber tightened its grip, leaving deep tread patterns imprinted on the soles of his feet, a grim reminder of his impending doom. And all the while, the mechanic drew nearer, his presence radiating an aura of malevolence that sent a shiver down his spine. Caught between the encroaching darkness and the approaching figure, he realized too late the true nature of the trap he had stumbled into.

As the mechanic's sinister smile danced across his lips, the vlogger remained blissfully unaware of the transformation unfolding within him. A strange euphoria pulsed through his veins, mingling with the thrill of being ensnared in this twisted game. Little did he know, the mechanic's satisfaction mirrored the success of the black rubber's insidious grip, its purpose fulfilled with each passing moment. As the vlogger's gaze wandered downward, a flicker of confusion pierced the fog of excitement. With a dawning realization, he lifted a foot, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him. What once were his feet now bore the unmistakable marks black rubber that seemed to meld seamlessly with his flesh. Instead of horror, however, an unexpected sensation washed over him—an inexplicable arousal stirred by the heady aroma of rubber that permeated the air. With each inhale, the scent enveloped him, stirring desires he dared not acknowledge, a strange fascination intertwining with the terror of his predicament.

Caught in this spectacle, the vlogger found himself torn between the allure of the unknown and the horror of his own transformation. And as the mechanic's grin widened, a silent witness to his descent into darkness, the vlogger realized that he was but a pawn in a game far more sinister than he could have ever imagined. An air compressor roared to life, its ominous hum blending with the mechanic's sinister intent, he pushes the transformed vlogger onto a throne crafted from the very substance that had consumed him.

Too preoccupied with his feet, he didn't see the mechanic reaching for the hard-on poking out the bottom of his shorts. The tip is altering shape as the air hose approaches. His cock morphed into a valve stem just as the air hose connects. Waves of exhilaration and pleasure course through him as his body becomes infused with pressurized air. As the black rubber continued its relentless advance, the vlogger's futile struggles only seemed to fuel its insatiable hunger for flesh. With each writhing movement, he felt the rubber's grip tighten, a suffocating embrace that left him gasping for air. His once nimble fingers now stiffened, rendered immobile as they stretched out like frozen claws. Yet, amidst his torment, an unexpected sensation flooded his senses—a perverse ecstasy that defied reason, his moans of pleasure echoing through the desolate chamber like whispers of surrender.

His body convulsed with waves of euphoria, each spasm a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. In a desperate bid for relief, he doubled over, fingers grazing the tips of his toes. Even as he succumbed to the rapture of his transformation, the rubber's insidious influence continued its inexorable march. Thick treads sprouted from his back and the nape of his neck and as he teetered on the precipice of oblivion, the vlogger realized with a sinking heart that there was no escape from the embrace of the black rubber—a fate sealed in pleasure and ecstasy.

"I made them extra filthy for you fag. I know that's how you like it. Now get to work, and don't miss a spot."

“How about this? Instead of fixing your daily grades, I’ll put in three A’s for a major grade if you lick my feet clean. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted. I’ve known that you’re a nasty fag since you walked into my class. Wearing your fag makeup. Plus the way you stare at my fat cock is not discreet at all. I want you to take your time on this. Got it fag?”

“Yes Mr. Wiessman…”

When you had won that radio contest, you had no idea the time you were in for.

The reward was straight forward: corner side seats for an Impact show, and a back stage tour after the show with one of the wrestler. Just your luck, you got Jake Something.

He was lively for having just done a fifteen minute match.

"And here are the lockers and benches. Don't mind the smell, that's just Jonah here." He slapped the ass of Jonah, who had been bending down in his equipment bag at the time.

"the hell man?" He said back.

"Your right. My bad. Go on bro, get revenge" Jake turned and thrust out his ass for Jonah to slap, but the big man just shook his head at Jake and left.

"Aw, don't leave me hanging. Come on. You finish it" Jake said.

He turned and aimed his ass at you. He was the only one who had yet to change out of his ring gear. He was glistening with cold sweat, and his shorts were so tight he must have been poured into them. He was still standing there waiting. You reached out and gave his cheek a light tap. It was like slapping a sponge. It was wet, and jell-o like.

"Weak," he said. "Keep the sweat. It's a souvenir"

The tour continued.

It ended with him showing you the tiny, talent bathroom. "We get the finest of facilities. Tiny sink, cracked mirror, and the piece du resistance, the toilet yours truly here took a monster shit in two minutes before his match" he looked at you, gauging your response. Not to his liking he kept going a step more. "We're talking a pipe clogging, king kong gorilla finger, mirror steaming dump."

That one did it. He saw you cringe a little. He smiled wide. He liked it.

"Where did they put you up. The contest I mean?" He asked.

You had been given a cheap motel room a few miles from the show.

"What? Shit. Fuck that place. Come back to my room. It's three blocks away and in a ..." He trailed off, absentmindedly pulling his shorts from his crack. "Well this hotel is also a shit hole, but it's a nicer shit hole than where they shoved you. Come on"

You thought about it

"come aaaawn" Jake said. "I got a boring night ahead of me. We can change that. You want me to beg?" He looked at the ground. The floor was wet. The sink, you noted, was dry. Eagerly, Jake dropped to the ground, his hands and knees splashing in. "Come on, be my roomie for the night" he brought his soaked hands up, begging you.

What could you say? You agreed.

"Fuck yeah!" He said. He sniffed his hands as he stood up. He put a heavy hand on your shoulder, gleefully wiping it on your shirt. "Good news bad news: good news is we're gonna have a great night. Bad news: I don't think that water on the floor"

You could tell his hotel room was going to be a mess as soon as the door opened. It was a suite with a kitchenette. Cans lay open and dripping on the counter: refried beans, spam, Manwich mix, black beans, red beans, and kidney beans. Three cans of jalapeno and cheese flavored slime rounded it out.

"Help yourself to some leftovers if you want, I gotta piss real quick" he said before turning into the bathroom.

You moved to the stove. There was a pot of brown and vaguely yellow sludge on the stove. It was ice cold and congealed, with large chunk of spam floating around in it.

"Trust me, it taste just as good as it looks" Jake says from the bathroom. He had left the door wide open. Just seconds later you hear a thunking splash as he lets out an exaggerated moan. "Augh, that's the stuff." He says. There was no way that was real. It sounded like someone has turned a hose on and was filling a pickle bucket from forty feet in the air. "Wait, wait, wait, wait" Jake spurted out. Suddenly the bathroom rang out with a short, deep, growler of a fart. "There it is. Can't have a rainstorm without a little thunder, right?"

He came out. No sounds of washing, no flush. He went straight for the slop on the stove.

"Not hungry? Eh, more for me then" He grabbed a tub of sour cream that had been sitting on the counter for who knows how long. He dumped it in. He mixed it in and the slop took on a softer brown color. Without hesitation he grabbed a spoon and began to shovel it in his mouth, not caring how badly it was smearing around his face. "This is my go to road meal. Just dump it all in a pot and you can eat for three days"

Suddenly how he smelled made sense. He still hadn't changed. His sweat had dried into a crusty salty layer.

"I like to watch some anime when I get back. Lets see what's on" He said. He punched you in the shoulder and lead you over to the small couch. It was a three seater, but the far side was taken up by a small punching bag. Jake told you he travels with it wherever he goes, so he can get some workouts in whenever he wants. He sat you down in the middle seat. There you were, a punching bag on one side, and a reeking Jake Something on the other. He put his arm around the back of the couch like he was your date at the movies. Only he looked like he did it just to expose his sloppy, hairy pits. He had to be doing this on purpose. How could he not know what this smelled like. His pit was right at your head level too. If you leaned to the side your head was likely to get stuck under his arm.

he turned on the tv. Old School, original Dragonball had been cued up. Specifically the section where Krillin fought against Bacterian. On the screen, a big, fat, hairy fighter who delighted in using his stench to win his matches. To your left, a big, hairy, wrestler, who was giving off a smell that could wilt fake flowers. It was like looking into an animated mirror.

"Fuck yeah, I love this part" He hit play and you watched him gleefully fidget as the larger fighter punished the smaller, he was particularly fond of when this big man sat on the smaller and farted. "Slick fucking move, right?" He rewound the scene and played it again.

"I've always wanted to do that, but I can't find anyone willing to take the bait." He took two beers from behind the couch. He cracked one open, took a sip, then handed it to you before opening the other for himself.

You weren't too sure what he was talking about.

"I'll play it out for you. So it's near the end of the match. I slam my opponent down, face up, on the mat. I go to drop on them but plot twist: they catch my ass and hold me off. I call out to the crowd. Maybe a fan or a plant. I hold out my finger and ask them to pull it. Then I make this face." He grunted, then made an over exaggerated sigh. "You know, so the crowd knows I just cut a beefer. The guy underneath me faulters, then boom. My ass drops on his face".

He drained his beer and crushed the can in his hand. He looked a bit sad. "No one's ever agreed to do it. Probably because I would" he let out a wet and sonorous belch. "I wouldn't fake the farting."

You choked on your beer.

"See you get it. Farting is awesome. Funny I mean. You know. It's funny. I fart all the time in the ring. Refs call me 'Jake Something—must have died in his ass because God damn that reeks'" he said.

The big greasy boy looked sad again. "I guess not letting me play out being bacterian is the price I have to pay for all those locker room farts, and ring farts, and hotel elevator farts..." He trailed off.

He looked to vulnerable. You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. It was sticky. The sweat had cooled into a slime like coating. You assured him he'd find someone.

"Would you do it?" He said, looking down at you.

You were no pro wrestler. You doubted you could even pretend well enough to fool the crowd at a local show, let alone a packed impact event.

"No we can do it here. In the room. Right now. No need to worry about getting in the ring in front of anyone."

How could you say no to him. He was so genuinely begging you with those big, stinky, puppy dog eyes. No one had to know about it, and who would even believe you if you told them anyway.

"Fuck yeah let's do it" Jake said. He got up and began moving the junk to the edge of the room. He pulled the bed from the wall for easy access. He propped his phone up on the nightstand and stood before you.

"Don't worry, I'll try not to break you" he said

Before you could say anything it was on. Jake wrapped his arm around your head, specifically forcing your nose into his juicy pit. "Oh and Jake opens with a Pits of Hell, aw man I'd hate to be the guy trapped in there" Jake roared, playing the part of the color commentator. He whispered for you to pretend like it reeked.

You didn't have to pretend. His pits were like wet, aged blue cheese. Pungent and salty.

Your slammed down as Jake pins you to the bed. He grabs you by the hair and holds your face to his. He contorted, then let out a deep, slow belch onto your face. Your stomach turned. It was sour from the beer, but at the same time beefy from his homemade slop.

"How is he still standing after a blow like that. Jake's not gonna like this, he's gonna unleash his most potent weapon!" Jake slammed you to the bed again. This time on your back. You had just enough fight left in you to reach up and hold off Jake's ass from falling on your face. Your hands clutched his wet, sweaty cheeks. You could feel the heat radiating from them as your hands sunk in. For such an athletic guy his ass sure was supple. "What's this?" Jake said, continuing his color commentary. "He's holding his finger out to the fans. He's asking someone to pull it. My god, no, that poor man under him. Jake don't do it!" But he did. He pulled at his own finger.

Bellow you saw his shorts quiver as he cheeks flexed and belched forth the toxic miasma from with in. It sounded like a wet balloon blowing a raspberry in your face, but smelled like the inside of the only working portable toilet at a construction site on a ninety seven degree summer day. It would be over soon. Your arms buckled and Jake's screaming asshole fell towards you.

It stopped short.

Your arms had locked at the shoulders and were propping the foul haunches up just a few quarter inches from your face. Your nose delicately tickled the fabric that stretched across the valley of his ass— a valley now being forced apart by your own hands.

He was caught off guard. You were supposed to go weak and be smothered between his bulging man mounds. He growled happily. "Oh so that wasn't enough? Well if your asking for it, Jake's got a little something for you"

His filthy hand reached towards your face. His salty, and tangy two middle fingers found your lips and shoved there way to the back of your mouth. You felt like gagging, but that may have just been the smell. With his other hand he reached under your head and softly began rubbing your face across his crack. He gave a soft moan. "Yeah I bet you hate this. I don't care if you dont, it works better for me if you hate it"

You didn't love it, that's for sure.

Jake was quiver. His words were strained. Strained like a man who was holding back his lusty ardor for the sake of making it last longer. "You know I just to a... Oh God" he ground his as deeper into your face as he choked on his words. "I took a big. No huge — monstrous. King Kong sized shit right before we sat down. I didn't wipe. I didn't think your face would be. Fuck. Your face is right where my nasty hole is"

He choked on his own lust. "Wait wait. Here it comes. On my count start sniffing. If you don't, I swear by Rikishi and saint Big Show I will shove your head up my ass." You could hear him foaming at the mouth. He started to count down. With each number he called out he quivered a little more. When he reached zero he pressed your face deeper into his ass. "Now now now!" He shouted. He twitched one final time before his guts spasmed. His asshole opened up and let out a wet growl. It was a beastly fart. You could feel it rattling his insides as it slowly belched it's caustic brew over your face. It was so thick you could feel it washing over you. Fearing what he might do, you sniffed deeply. Oh how you wished you hadn't. It smelled like a dairy barn at the peek of summer. It was the type of foul that you could never get used to. It burned your nose and soured your stomach. You're eyes watered and rolled back into your head. For a moment you thought that this was it, death by fart.

But you lived.

Jake let go of your head and let you drop onto the bed. He fell backwards, spent, he lay looking up at the ceiling.

"Someone call the Ghostbusters because I think I slimed myself on that one"

You tried to breath, but the air was no less fresh in the room. You may never get the smell of Jake's ass out of your nose. This was your world now. "Your good." Jake said. "I'm gonna talk to some people and get you some season tickets. No, life time backstage passes. This is better than any massage i've had after a match. Total relaxation. I'm gonna introduce you to Big Show, Rikishi, Kevin Owens, Mark Henry Aw there gonna love you. "

This really was your world now. You couldn't escape. You were just going to be past between wrestlers one after another, sat on, gassed, and worse. All because you had to enter that radio contest. "There gonna fucking looooove you"

Steve gagged as his throat worked around the squirming, meaty man in his clutches. He still wasn’t very used to this eating people thing, and he’d have to get Jason down fast. This stretch of woods was usually empty, but he had to be safe.

He knew Jason was a star athlete, but he didn’t realize he’d be this much of a pain in the ass. He was lucky he’d caught him off guard and swallowed head-first, or else he’d have to deal with his arms. Thankfully, all that was left to gulp down were a pair of flailing, meaty legs. A long, drawn out pull from his throat’s muscles, and Jason was in up to his knees. And then his feet. And then, he was gone, resigned to his digestive fate.

“BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRP!” Steve let out a long, lip-smacking belch. It tasted like acid and meat on his tongue. His nose curled up, the smell rancid. He could only imagine how awful it was at the source. He looked down at his gut, the fleshy orb breaking form with Jason’s violent struggles. He probably got inspiration to fight back even harder when he landed in the digested remains of his friends in Steve’s stomach, their skulls bobbing up and down in the bloody sludge. He could see the torn, acid-bitten scraps of clothing that hadn’t digested very well. Jason choked in disgust as another belch shook up the stomach sac, splashing the gore onto him.

“Well, man, I’m just gonna let you digest now. Just fucking chill out, and turn to mush. I’m gonna have a nap if you don’t mind.” Steve sat down, leaning against a tree, and closed his eyes. The woodland breeze helped lull him to sleep, despite the screaming and struggling from his belly. He let out one last burp, then nodded off.

The trumpeting sound of a fart woke Steve up, a gaseous pressure built up in his rectum. He wrinkled his nose at the pungent odor, the smell rotten and thick. He looked down at his gut. It was about half the size of before, and much rounder. Putting a hand to it, though, he could feel that it was hard and dense- the feeling of full bowels. Another awful fart forced its way out of him, making the air smell even worse. Luckily, it was brushed away by the wind pretty quickly. He sighed, slapping it and lazily hopping up into a squatting position. He dropped his pants to his ankles, letting his bare, hairy ass feel the cool wind. His belly gurgled ominously at him, before pushing more gas out of his backside. With a grunt and a final belch, he began to dispose of the men.

Fully certain that he's not aware of my presence, I want to drop my little fella and let it wiggle its way to my older brother. All in a sudden, with eyes still staring at his screen, my brother with his deep booming voice said

"What do you want, twerp? Why are you acting like a peeping tom or shit?"

Shit.....he cannot know about the existence of my little fella yet. He can crush it with his bare hands in disgust if he finds out about it.

"I'm talking to you, twerp. What do you want? I'm working, but I cannot concentrate when you ogled at me like what you are doing now," he said, still looking at the monitor

So without much option, I entered his room and instantly hit by his intense odor as he clearly haven't showered since his workout this morning, and the way the room absorbs all sort of smell that comes from him and his clothing. But then I realize that my little slimey fella is no longer in my hand and that stopped me mid-track. Where the heck is it? I already planned to just throw it at his face in close proximity and maybe it can wiggle into him through his nose or mouth. Fuck, it also claimed that it has camouflage capability so there's no way I could find it because it probably camouflaged itself already

As I sit next to my brother in a lower seat, he stared at me

"What do you want?"

"I----I----unggh....I want to ask you out to Trader's Joe"

"What? Why?"

"Ummhhh----"

"Are you hungry? Well, me too, but I guess I'm more interested to inhale the shit out of these pits and taste it,"

And that's when I realized, it's already in control of my older brother!

"Oh my God, you're inside of him!"

"Hmmmm mmmmm yeah, I'm mmmmmm fuuuckkkkk yeah, pits tasted so nice, already inside him since this morning,"

"What?"

"Yeah, during his workout in the garage, I slipped into his ear while he's posing like a candle. His eyes closed and his ear quite close to the ground, very easy to possess,"

"So, what the fuck I held on the past few hours then?"

"That's my spawn. It can also take control of other people but it needs nutrient first. It's been latching in my legs ever since you lost it. Let me scoop it so he can get the nutrients from your older brother,"

And just like that, he grabbed a small slimey being that camouflaged itself like a little part of my brother's hairy legs and devour it. He shakes his head and then his eyes glow for a split second before returning to normal

"Now, can you please help jack your brother's off? I probably told you so many times how it's quite a potent source of energy for us, maybe if you want I can also help you get a release so I can get nutrients from the both of you,"

We’d spent every night so far talking but I was missing his touch. I really wanted to hold him and kiss him, let alone just feel his naked body all over mine. Thank God I could see the end of the line with all of grandpa’s stuff.

We finished early on Thursday when mom told me that dad had an appointment at his doctor’s so I decided to surprise Josh with a midday sex talk since I’d have the house to myself. Thursdays were especially good since they were his day off from work as well.

So I called his phone and it rang a couple times then I heard it click as he answered it. In a low voice I asked if this was the sexy master of the house? In response I heard a deep voice reply that I got that right. I’m definitely the sexy master of this house.

It wasn’t Josh’s voice. Who was answering his phone? This voice was far too deep and it also sounded like an older black man, while Josh is a twenty-four year old white guy. What the hell? I pressed the request for video and was rewarded by a request accepted.

Next thing I know i could see our living room wall on the screen as I tried to make heads or tails of this. The screen panned around briefly until it centered on a huge cut black dick. Fuck! Okay Josh, what the fucks going on?

I could hear a low chuckling to my questions being thrown out. Josh? Where are you? Whose dick is that? Are you okay? Baby?

My questions came to a stop when I saw a hand wrap around the big dick and start massaging it into a refill erection. I could hear the guy say that I liked that, didn’t i? You want some of daddy’s chocolate bar, don’t you boy?

I was taken aback, but deep down I knew he was right. I was craving dick, and his dark beauty had me wanting something more than I had previously experienced. I was just about to answer when I heard Josh reply to him that he wanted daddy’s thick boy sticker. He yearned to have it shoved further up his aching hole than anyone had ever gotten.

As I watched the black fingers manipulate the thick pole I heard the unseen daddy tell my lover that he had to prove his worthiness to ride his pole. He had to show daddy just how much he wanted it.

I saw the hand fall away and almost immediately get replaced by Josh’s mouth. From this vantage I could see my baby lick the dark pole like he was eating an ice cream treat before opening his mouth wider and slide it over the moist tip of the stranger’s cock. I could see Josh’s throat undulating as he was swallowing spit and juices from the big dick exploring his mouth. Then his head started bobbing as he started taking more of this man’s dick into his mouth. Fuck! It was so incredibly hot! I knew what the guy was feeling from firsthand experience and it was incredible. I could see Josh swallowing forcing his tongue to rub against the heavy underside of the head. I could see the glistening of that cock as it re-emerged from my sweetie’s mouth, wet from his saliva.

I couldnt help myself, I had to stroke. It had been almost two weeks since physical contact and here was the love of my life reminding mee of his amazing sexual skills. Holy shit! I leaned my own phone on a pillow as I began stroking off to the private show I was getting.

As Josh bobbed faster, I could hear this stranger moaning as he enjoyed the expert use of my baby’s tongue while he was taking almost every inch of his pole into his mouth. I could hear the heavy breathing as the stranger encouraged Josh to reach his balls. His big hand reached out and started stroking his hair.

I could tell he was getting close as his voice was sounding more stressed. I could see his hand tighten his grip on my baby’s head as the guy told Josh to take it all bitch and that he was gonna fucking drown him in cum.

I could see Josh’s mouth become drawn up as his cheeks were sucked against the stranger’s thick cock. The hand on his head pulled his face forward until his nose was buried in a tangle of black pubes and I could see Josh’s mouth pressed up against two tightly compacted balls. I could hear the fellow moaning then yelling obscenities as I watched my baby’s eyes flash open and his throat began a rapid swallowing motion.

The big balls danced a bit as he unloaded into Josh’s mouth. I could see Josh struggling to maintain decorum as he was swallowing but three must have been a very large flood as white fluid leaked out around the cock buried in his mouth.

About twenty seconds later Josh started moving his head back again as he started cleaning up the overflow. I watched his tongue snake out and lick the glistening black rod free of cum. This was all too much for me and I shot off a load into my hands.

"Uuuggh.... fuuuck... that's gonna hurt for at least a few hours..." A deep groan escaped from my mouth as I rubbed the pain in the back of my head. Having him fly across the room and slam his head on the hard concrete floor was definitely not in the plan, but at least everything else had been successful.

You see, for years and years I had been lusting over this one handsome hunk that frequented the gym I went to. Damien, as I later managed to find out his name, wasn't just any normal gymgoer. No, he was beyond that and more. The way he easily lifted those weights with his huge biceps, the tension of his massive quads as he ran on the treadmill, and the short breaks he took between each set to give everyone around him a prideful flex show... He was a god among gods... at least in my eyes.

Some might have called me obssessed, but I just found myself mesmerized by everything he did, everything he said, and everything he was. I loved the way his tall muscular body moved, I loved the way his deep accented voice sounded, and I even loved the way his pungent after workout musk smelled (Yes, I might have broken into his locker a few times just to bask in that wonderful scent of his...).

At first I really thought I was just in love with him, but I quickly realized it was something more than that, something more possessive. I didn't want to be with him. No, I wanted to be him. I wanted... no yearned to parade around with that wonderfully fit body, to watch myself flex with those massively thick biceps, and to simply own all that he possessed and had worked hard for. The very thoughts would make me quickly chub up and I'd often be forced to release a big load in the gym toilets while imagining running my hands across that chiseled flesh of Damien.

That's why I've spent the last seven months browsing through every book in the library, every website on the net, and every tattered research paper I could get my hands upon to find some way to actually make my desire come true. It took countless sleepless nights and an almost empty bank account, until I finally found what I was looking for. All that was required was the right place, right time, and right person...

I wasn't going to risk anything, so after finding out where he lived, what time he usually went to the gym, and when he would most likely come back home, I immediately put my plan into action. Yes, I broke into his apartment. Yes, I smeared chicken blood all over his living room floor to draw a glyph and lit incense sticks everywhere. And yes, I sat in the middle of it all naked and drenched in chicken blood, while clutching a piece of dry wood with runes carved on it in my hand.

You would think I had gone mad at this point, but you have no idea the dedication and yearning I had felt to actually make this go through. Patiently I sat there and waited for him, minutes and hours went by, but I was just as ready for the moment he would be back.

And when I could finally hear the entrance door to his apartment unlock, and saw the shocked expression on his handsome face as he found a complete stranger sitting in the middle of his living room floor, I immediately brought the unusual dry wood high up in the air and split it into two. Almost instantaneous an intense burning pain washed all over me, followed by the horrific sight of my physical body being engulfed in sweltering purple fire. A pile of ashes and flesh pieces was all that was left, as I now found myself hovering above the glyph in some sort of hazy non-physical state.

Not letting the opportunity pass me by, I immediately focused my form towards Damien's body and flung myself against him. A look of absolute terror was plastered on his face, as the words "Oh fuck" left his mouth. A wide gaping mouth that turned out to be the perfect entrance for me to slam myself straight into. The very force of my invasion however caused him to suddenly be flung backwards and across the living room.

I was rapidly forcing myself down into his gagging throat, and quickly filling him up with all of my essence. I could feel him starting to fight back, but I had no intention of giving him that chance. Immediately I pushed down even deeper and found his core. It was warm, livid, and pulsating... and I wasted no time completely enveloping it and absorbing it into myself. I could feel all his memories, dreams, and desires wash over me. If I wanted to become Damien, I had to go all the way.

One the outside, Damien's face was red and exhausted, as his expressions went from ones of pain and anguish to pleasure and joy. For a few brief minutes he closed his eyes and just laid there on the floor in eerie tranquil.

Until they finally opened again with me in complete control.

I tried to push myself back up, only to fall back down on the floor with a heavy thud. As much power and strength that flowed through my new bigger body now, I found myself beyond exhausted. Not only that, but my broad muscular back was now drenched in sweat, as were my armpits with my new wonderfully pungent musk.

Accepting that I wasn't getting up from this floor anytime soon, especially with this pounding headache in the back of my head, I decided to enjoy my new self right there and then. With one rugged hand shoved deep down in my gym shorts and squeezing my new engorged manhood, the other massive arm was busily being kissed, flexed, and having its wet armpit being worshipped.

Basking in my new perfect body and identity, I spent the rest of the evening filling the apartment with groans of my deep accented voice, and my stomach with pounds after pounds of my sticky white Damien cream...

I was finally who and where I had always meant to be, with the perfect body, life, and identity.

Finally I was home.

It happened a couple months ago; Cody was in a hurry and didn’t have time to stop to entertain fans. As he was rushing, a girl stopped him begging for a photo. Checking his watch, he groaned but stopped to take a picture wishing she could hurry up with her phone. After the camera flashed, he was grabbing his bags when she held out a paper and pad. “Please,” she begged him. He looked at her and then at his gate just steps away. “I’m sorry, I have to catch this flight,” he truly felt bad as he rushed past her to catch the plane before the gate closed.

Behind him he could hear the girl cursing him for being rude. “You will regret this,” she yelled after him speaking in tongues after that. At the time he had no idea what she’d done. She’d placed a curse on him and from then on he would be cursed forevermore. It’d only been a month since he’d seen her, she was the last thing on his mind when it first happened. He was in the gym working out trying to stay fit for his roles. Halfway through his workout he felt his body squirming.

“Ugh, what’s wrong with me,” he’d groaned and made his way to the locker room where he found his body shifting and changing. He had no way to stop it, no idea what was happening as layers of fat developed on his body. That was the night he learned what she’d truly cursed him as and worse yet that he couldn’t fight it. 

A month later he’d been on edge, he was back at the gym doing his nightly routine when he felt the gurgle in his stomach. “Oh no,” he muttered checking outside, seeing the moon bright and full. “No, not tonight!” He quickly got up, already noticing how tight his pants had become.

“How did I not notice? Ugh, I gotta hurry,” feeling his ass giggling with fat, he waddled his way to the locker rooms. “Why must it be a full moon already,” he cursed sitting down on the bench. His stomach bloated and gurgled. “Wonder how big my gut will be tonight.” It responded by lifting his shirt, revealing the thick mound of fat and hair. “Oh god it’s definitely bigger than last time,” he commented, quickly undressing to see how far he’d changed so far.

His ass was thick and juicy, a thick coating of hair rapidly growing across his bare skin. His already thick thighs were thickened even further. The gap between them disappeared as the fat and hair settled in. “I need to find that witch. If I knew she could do this to me I would’ve missed my plane and signed that autograph.” The hair on his chest became itchy as his bare arms filled in with coarse brown hairs. “Being a were-bear is annoying,” he grunted watching his pecs sag and balloon out. “No more hair,” he groaned as a patch grew along the back of his hands. In the mirror he watched his face fill in with a thick beard while his face ballooned. “Oh no,” he groaned, feeling himself getting horny just looking at himself. “No, I need to resist.”

He never considered himself gay, but the thought of horny twinks surrounding him again was making him hard. “I can’t just give in,” he looked in the mirror again to see his hands rubbing his furry chest. “No! Stop it,” he moaned, fighting the erotic feeling as his bear mind slowly took over.

Thoughts of finding a guy and twinkifying him were creeping into his mind. He thought of the last guy he’d found. A brutish man who used his muscles to get his way, was now a squeaky little man begging to be played with. “No, I won’t do it,” he told himself while his voice deepened. In his head a voice told him he would, and he’d love it. “No I won’t just let this happen,” he looked at himself again, not recognizing himself. 

His voice wavered as he began to imagine who he’d want to change tonight. Thoughts of his former co-stars played in his head as he randomly picked one to play with and then smiled. “I won’t get into too much trouble,” he told himself as he went to another locker. He’d packed himself some bigger clothes this time hiding them from skinny Cody. “Let’s see, oh yeah papa bear likes,” he giggled, pulling out a worn t-shirt that said. Daddy’s home and a pair of shorts. “What Cody doesn’t know,” he giggled again. “Mmm yeah, now let’s see if we can use Cody’s phone to get Tyler Posey to come out and play.” 

Real nasty, knowing just how to make it bad and he’d be gassy on purpose, full weight making verbal jokes