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#gay mind control
bluecollarmcandtf · 2 months
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Dads, Dads, and more Dads
I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...
"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"
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A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.
"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.
"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.
A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.
Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.
"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.
"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"
Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.
That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.
"Have a good day, buddy!"
Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?
I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...
"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"
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The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.
"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.
"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"
I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."
Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.
"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"
I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!
"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."
Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?
"No. Just give me some cash."
Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.
"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.
Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!
"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"
"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.
"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"
"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...
"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"
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The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.
Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.
"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.
"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"
I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."
The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."
I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.
"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.
For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.
"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.
"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"
"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.
"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"
"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.
"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."
I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.
If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!
"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.
He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.
Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?
He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.
"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."
I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...
"Excuse me, sir!"
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"Sorry!" I shout.
In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.
"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.
"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.
"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."
He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.
"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"
The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.
I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!
"You have a car?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"You want to drive me around?"
"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.
The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.
"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."
The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.
The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."
"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"
I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...
"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"
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My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.
"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"
"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.
"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"
I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"
"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.
Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.
"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"
"Well," he pauses, "Sure."
"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"
"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"
I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.
"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."
My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."
"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."
"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.
"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"
"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.
"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."
Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...
"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"
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Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.
"The grass looks great, dad."
"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."
Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.
"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.
"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."
"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."
"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."
"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"
"You could bend over the couch..."
Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.
"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."
For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.
"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."
Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.
Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.
I think I will enjoy myself.
Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos
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bigboysfalldeep · 5 months
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mass cop conversion
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After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.
They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.
As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.
After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.
"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.
"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.
Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.
Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.
"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.
But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.
"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.
Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.
"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.
"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.
Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.
The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.
"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.
With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.
"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.
"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.
Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.
At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.
Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.
"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.
Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.
Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.
The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.
Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.
"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.
In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.
The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.
Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.
Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.
It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.
As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.
Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.
Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.
"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.
Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 
Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.
Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.
As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.
"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.
His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.
Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.
Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.
Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.
This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 
He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.
At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.
Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.
His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.
He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.
Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.
Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.
The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.
They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.
This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.
Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.
Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.
The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.
"Obey."
Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.
Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.
Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.
But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.
Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.
The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.
For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.
In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.
He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.
Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.
"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.
He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.
This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.
"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.
Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.
He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.
Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.
He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.
Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.
It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.
The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.
"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."
Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.
Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.
One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.
As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.
It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.
Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.
While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.
All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.
Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.
It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.
"Serve. Cum and obey."
Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.
His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.
With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.
He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.
Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.
With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.
Obedience.
They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.
The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.
Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.
The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.
"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.
"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.
"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.
"Yes, sir." 
He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.
Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.
The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.
With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.
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robocontroller · 5 months
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Let us attach you to the Mind Control Server. Just a second and your mind is emptied, only serving and obeying your Controller.
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goodboyyyy · 1 year
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Your phone dinged- it was an email from your college. You'd been waiting for it all summer- you'd been dying to know what dorm you'd be in and who your roommate would be.
You were super excited for college, to be around other smart people, especially since you were going to an Ivy League. You'd kind of been an nerd in high school, but thought that in college, brains might be appreciated over brawn. You'd imagined it a lot- being around other smart people who could actually have a discussion, instead of the homophobic idiots you went to school with, the dumb jocks you had to take classes with, all the dumbasses who cared more about football than books and things like that. You hated being around these idiots more and more every year. Even though you always wished you looked more built, you never let yourself work out or go to the gym. You didn't want to be anything like them.
Grinning, googled your roommates name excitedly and found an Instagram….
Your jaw dropped. This had to be a joke.
He looked just like every stupid muscle head jock you been trying to get away from! You, scrolled and scrolled, hoping your opinion would change, but every picture was just him at the gym, or faxing, or at some party scene like a beach. He was really hot, but you didn’t really want a hot roommate, you just wanted a cool roommate.
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You sighed, closing your laptop. There was no sense stressing about it now. You couldn’t really tell how a person was from a picture, anyway. Maybe he was a cool guy who just happened to work out.
But then school started, and your roommate was worse than you imagined- an annoying, pompous jock who thought he knew everything. All he talked about was lifting, dumb motivational sayings, and partying. He wasn't actually dumb- but that just somehow made it worse. It just added to his smug, superior attitude knowing he wasn't a typical dumb jock- and he loved to hear himself talk, always went on and on about everything to show you how much he knew. He wasn't even that douchey- he was just annoying as hell, always thinking he knew more and better, always acting like this great person so people would think that about him. He was even hotter in person, until he opened his mouth at least and the dumbest shit you ever heard seemed to come out of it without fail every time. Now, every time he spoke, he rolled your eyes and automatically tuned him out. It was the only way you could bear having to room with him.
It was awful at first, but the year is going by pretty fast. Before you knew it, winter break was here you were busy packing the last few things to head home. Ironically, you were as excited about going home as you have been to arrive at college. You couldn’t wait to be by yourself, away from this idiot, and not have to hear him or hear about working out or anything like that for a couple of days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You went to grab it, but your roommate was right next to it, so he passed it over to you. His eyebrows raised as he stared at the screen. “Shit, man.”
“What?” You said as you took the phone. It was a gmail notification.
FLIGHT CANCELLED.
Your stomach dropped. You were already leaving late because your last final had been on the last day the school was open, at the dorms and closed for break that night at midnight. You lived across the country.
“Fuck! What am I supposed to do now,” you said more to yourself and more out of frustration than to him. You didn’t even consider that his dumbass would have any ideas for you.
“Well, why don’t you come stay with me for a little while?”
You looked up at him, eyebrow raised and pretty surprised that he’d offer, till you remembered he was too dumb and clueless to realize how much you didn't like him. You wanted to tell him it was fine, no thanks… but you had no other options now, aside from maybe sleeping in the airport till the blizzard passed. That could be hours or even days, though
“You mean it?”
“Of course man! Look, I know we’re not like, best buds, or gym bros or anything like that, I’m not just gonna leave you stranded here. I’m heading out in like an hour. You can come stay at my place a night or two until you can figure out another flight.”
It wasn’t ideal, but like you’d already realized, you had no other choice right now. You packed the last of your things and put them in his car. The snow was already starting when you left, and came down harder and harder as you drove the 20 or 30 minutes over to his house. You were kind of scared sometimes, but he was actually a really good driver. Anytime this car slid or skidded even a little, it was like he knew exactly what to do to get it back on track. His big muscular arm bulged now and then as he gripped the steering wheel tight when the Jeep had fishtailed briefly a few times, and you caught yourself staring at it a little too long more than once. It was honestly really impressive to watch, you would’ve been freaking out if the car skidded at all like that, but he stayed totally calm. Maybe he did know a thing or two after all.
He already texted his parents and explanation of why you were coming, so they had a plate the food ready for you when you arrived. You weren’t that surprised to see the rest of his family was kind of like him. He had a brother who was like a little jock in training, and a Dad who was like a veteran jock. The conversation was pretty similar to what you’d expected – nothing really substantial, with each of them nodding dumbly every time one of them said something equally dumb.
Once dinner was done you headed upstairs with him.
"So, there's a guest room, but there's also a bed in my room that used to be my brothers. I think you should sleep in that one. It'll be a lot more comfortable."
"I dunno-"
"C'mon man! It'll be just like at school! Plus, there's a bathroom in there. Otherwise you have to share with the rest of my family," he said with a big dumb grin. You sighed. He was just so oblivious, but he had saved your ass letting you stay here, and you didn't want to be rude.
"Alright, fine," you said, heading into his room with him. You saw a picture of him and his brother on his dresser. They were identical. A gold chain necklace was draped over the frame.
"You guys were twins?"
"Yeah..."
"Where did he go?" you asked.
He shrugged. "Fell in love with some girl from another country. Out of the blue, he told us he was moving there with her. Had a big fight with me and my parents over it, and hasn't talked to anyone since. It really sucks. He was my main gym bro."
"Ah, that sucks," you said, not sure of what to say.
"Anyway, lets get to bed," he said, sliding his shirt and pants off. It was a shame he was so dumb, because you would have thought he was so sexy otherwise. He'd been right though- this bed was really comfy. You drifted off to sleep after a few moments, exhausted from packing.
He slid out of bed, opened the closet, and pulled a pair of his brother's old gym shoes out. They were so rank he could smell them from a couple feet away. He slid them under your bed quietly and stepped back, watching the smell seep into you. Your nose wrinkled at first, but he smiled when you started to draw slow, deep inhales of the scent. Then, he pulled his sweaty gym clothes out from earlier, wringing them out into a cologne bottle he left on the bathroom counter.
"Night night, future gym bro," he said, getting back under his covers.
You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and lethargic. When you opened your eyes, you saw him in the bathroom with the door open, doing the same morning routine he did at school. The thing was, you never really saw him do it that much, because you always avoided using the bathroom when he was in there, otherwise he'd start talking your ear off. He was washing his face. His thick muscles shifted with every slight movement. You knew he was showing off, but fuck was he sexy. It was early and you were still pretty groggy and horny and half-asleep, so much so that you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. You felt like an asshole, suddenly. He'd invited you here in an emergency, and you'd been rude and judgmental the whole time. His chiseled abs contracted as he bent over the sink and scrubbed his face.
He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned over to you. "Hey man," he said, "Yo. c'mere. You gotta smell this cologne I just got."
You rolled your eyes, but instead of being annoyed, you smiled. He was so cute, in a dumb way. You got up and walked into the bathroom, pulling your boner into your pants elastic so he wouldn't see it. It was good you did, because you felt your cock surge as he raised his arms and sprayed the cologne into his muscular pits.
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His biceps peaked as he did. He looked like a model. And the cologne smelled amazing. He noticed you watching him flex and smirked. "You like those, huh? Haha," he said with a laugh.
"Uh- yeah man, really cut... ha ha" you said, trying to play it cool.
"We could get your like that I think," he said, gripping your tiny arms with his big hands.
"Haha, no thanks," you said, stepping back. Still, the scent of the cologne drifted over to you. You had to admit, it smelled pretty good. Kind of familiar, too.
"C'mon man, why not?"
"The gym really isn't my thing."
"Have you ever even been?" he asked, giving his pits another blast of cologne.
"No. Just really not my thing," you said. You got another huge whiff of the cologne just as you turned away from the door. You stopped suddenly. Damn, it smelled good- like it was getting better and better by the second. You took a deep whiff. You didn't want to walk away from it.
"Yo, what brand is that?"
"It's an off brand," he said, "i dunno really."
"Can I try some?" you said, taking another deep inhale. The smell was invigorating. It made you feel like you were bursting with energy- energy you needed to release.
He smirked. "If you come to the gym with me, maybe."
You were about to say no, but you really, really wanted to try that cologne. Plus, you had so much energy now, you needed some way to burn it off. And what else would you do all day? Sit around with his weird family?
"Ok, fine," you said, "But I'm just doing the treadmill though. Maybe an eliptical."
He shrugged. "Everyone's gotta start somewhere. What matters is, we're finally gym bros dude!"
"I don't know about all that," you said with a laugh, going to put your shoes on. He was so dumb and easily pleased. Like, who gave a shit if you went to the gym with him or not? Why did it matter so much?
You frowned down as you tried to put your shoes on. For some reason, they seemed smaller. You could barley fit them on, like your foot had grown overnight or something.
"Hey man, i got you," he said, reaching under his brothers bed. He pulled a pair of gym shoes out for you. "These should fit."
You picked them up. They smelled familiar and nice, kind of like the cologne. You were really excited to wear them for some reason, and after you put them on, you felt even better about your decision to go to the gym. You rocked your legs back and forth, bursting with energy. "You ready dude?" you said.
"Lets get it," he said nodding you out the door. "Oh wait. Almost forgot." He reached into his bag and tossed the bottle of cologne over to you. "All yours, man," he said with a grin.
"Thanks bruh," you said, spraying a thick coating under your arms. You wondered why you were talking like that, but as the cologne filled your nose, the thought faded away.
You'd stayed on the treadmill for a while at first, but even there, you were shocked at how fast you could run without getting tired. His brother's old gym shoes were so broken in and cushioned that it felt like you were running on air. But you'd been watching him while he lifted, watching him while the cologne you drenched yourself in seeped into your nose. Running wasn't enough. You needed something to release more energy. You headed over to him, asking if you could join.
"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. He was drenched in sweat that got all over your clothes. "Here, hit some curls with me," he'd said, handing you a dumbbell. It felt weird but... right in your hand, like you'd finally undergone some masculine right of passage you'd been putting off. You lifted it, but with terrible form.
"Nah man, like this," he said, springing up, and before you knew it he was behind you, his big frame dwarfing yours, and gripped your hands with his own, pushing them up into a proper curl.
"See man? Just like this. Up.... and down," he said slowly into your ear.
He did it a couple times. It felt nice, having him show you. He was a real nice guy, you thought, feeling his hands gripping you own. Your eyes started to glaze over- but when he left go, you immediately started overcompensating with your back. In a flash, he was behind you again.
"Nah bro. You're thinking too much," he said slowly. "Stop. Thinking." he said, gripping your hands again. You were about to tell him to fuck off, but the thought faded away suddenly as his skin touched yours. All your thoughts did, Your head became an empty vacuum.
"Up," he said slowly into your ear, lifting your arms.
Up. Yes. Up. The single directive rushed in to fill the entirety of your empty mind. Up. Up. Up.
He lowered them slowly, maintaining the tension. "And Down."
And Down. Yes. The other two words entered your brain, filling any gaps missed by Up. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.
"Up. And Down.," he said in your ear. "That's all that matters. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down."
Your lips began to say the words slowly, matching your movements. Your eyes became totally glazed, and this time, when he let go, you didn't stop. You kept moving with the perfect form he'd just programed into you while he picked up his own dumbbells and lifted next to you moving in sync... it felt so.. nice... moving up...and down....up... and down...
You hadn't remembered much more after that till you were both in the locker room, drenched in sweat after a full workout.
"Great job, man," he said, pulling you in for a high-five hug again. Your sweaty bodies and pumped muscles rubbed against each other in the exchange.
"Thanks bro," you said, still invigorated from the workout. It felt fuckin great. And he'd been so great, showing you proper form for every move, correcting you, adjusting the weight for you. As you both left, you once again felt like an ass for being so rude to him all these months...
When you got home and showered, you felt something itchy under your arms. Checking it out, you noticed your pit hair had gotten a lot darker and thicker. You shrugged. You were almost a year younger than most of your classmates with the way your birthday fell. It must've been the final strokes of puberty, or something.
You headed into your roommate's room for bed. He was propped up in bed in just his underwear, massaging himself with a theragun, nearly moaning. You laughed as you looked at him. He smirked, realizing how funny it looked.
"Laugh all you want, dude, but if you tried it, you'd feel the same way."
"Lemme try then. I'm pretty sore from today already. I still can't believe you convinced me to do weights."
"Haha. I knew you had it in you bro," he said, walking over to you with the theragun. "Aren't you glad you did?"
"Yeah," you said honestly. It had actually felt surprisingly good.
"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. "Good shit bro. The treadmill is for pussies. You gotta pump these guns, otherwise you're wasting time."
You were about to argue when the theragun hit your sore tricep. The thought slowly faded away as bursts of pleasure rippled out from your muscles. You fell onto the bed, overwhelmed by the feeling, but he kept the gun on you steadily the whole time, watching you squirm and moan. It didn't just feel like a massage, it felt like a whole other workout. You felt the blood pumping into your arms, felt them getting warmer as they bulged and swelled. It felt incredible. He moved around to your bicep, then shoulders, then upper back. He lifted your arms to get underneath them, and you thought you saw his eyes linger on your hairy pits, smiling at them, but you were too preoccupied to think about it. You weren't sure how long he kept at it, but by time he was done, you felt amazing.
"Woah, thanks brah."
"Anytime. Why don't you wash up? We gotta be up early to hit the gym."
"For sure bro," you said, standing up and heading to the bathroom. Yeah, you'd hit the gym again tomorrow. It wasn't even a question, really.
Your eyes widened as you stared in the mirror. You arms looked huge! They hadn't looked this big when you'd gotten out of the shower.
He noticed you admiring them. "It's the theragun, and the uh.... the hot shower. Gets the blood pumped into them. It'll probably be gone in the morning," he said.
"Oh...makes sense," you said, brushing your teeth and sliding into bed.
Once he heard you snoring, he slipped out of bed and grabbed his shaving cream, heading into the bathroom. He whipped his thick cock out and stared at a couple of bimbos getting fucked on his phone, shooting a hot, huge load right into the cream. He swirled it around with his finger, mixing it, then dabbed a bit onto his hand as he headed over to you. He gently spread it over your face, smearing the extra under your pits. Smiling, he went to bed.
You woke up the next day feeling sore and... itchy. You thought it was the pillow, but no matter how you moved, the feeling never went away. Blinking, you scratched at your face, where the feeling was coming from. Your hand met a rough surface. You felt around your face until you realized it was... stubble? But you'd only really had that above your lips. You felt more and more, but it was definitely there.
He looked over to the bathroom. He was up already, shaving in the mirror. He caught your eye again “Hey man. Sleep good?“
“Yeah man, but it looks like some of my facial hair came in overnight or something. It's all itchy.”
You scratched it again, but then thought another itchy, feeling coming out from under your arm. Lifting your arm, you noticed that your pit hair looked even thicker and darker than the night before. And despite what he said about the Theragun and shower, your arms still looked huge. You stare at your body, confused. That late puberty really was hitting you like a train.
"Hey bro, that’s just what happens when you get that testosterone pumping. Come here, I’ll take care of that for you. Just let me finish up.“
You approached as he lifted his chin, showing off his thick neck and sliding his shaver across it. It was strange to watch. You were the same age, and he looked so natural doing it, but it was something you'd never done before. You never had enough facial hair to.
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He turned to you, lifting your chin up with one finger, inspecting your stubble. He looked pleased for some reason. He grabbed a jar of shaving cream and opened it- but he hadn't used any? With his razor, he could shave dry, so why-
He smeared the shaving cream on your face, and the cool, minty feeling wiped the question from your mind. Your eyes drooped to his beefy pecs and six pack in front of you as he moved the razor softly over your skin. "You just go nice and slow, just like this," he said, shaving you delicately. Your heart beat faster. It felt weirdly... intimate. You guessed this was something Dad's or older brothers showed youhow to do, but you hadn't had one. You watched intently, trying not to shudder where his fingers grazed your skin. What was weird was, even as the razor removed the hair, it seemed to leave more stubble behind.. but... you liked it. You almost looked... hot. He kept going, till you had a thick 5 o clock shadow just like his.
"I'll let you finish up," he said, sliding you the shaved and shaving cream. "You should shave your pits too, brah. Makes lifting easier. Less irritation."
"Sounds good man," you said, smearing a thick coating of shaving cream onto your hairy pits. It tingled like before. Just like with your face, even though it removed the hair, it seemed to leave more hair follicles behind. You squinted at it. Probably just a trick of the light.
"Ready to hit the gym again?"
"Hell yeah," you said. "But I just have to check flights first-"
"Ah, you know, I was gonna check for you earlier, but our Wifi was acting up."
"That's cool. I can just check on my phone."
"Alright. But just get dressed first," he said, handing you his brothers shoes again.
You were going to tell him to just wait, but the sight of the shoes got you excited. You'd felt really good wearing them.
"Alright," you said, taking them and eagerly sliding them on. The second you tied them, you stood up, pumping your legs one after another. You felt ready to go!
"Oh. and don't forget the cologne. You don't wanna smell like sweat, ya know," he said with a laugh as he tossed you the bottle. It excited you, just like the shoes. You sprayed about ten or eleven sprays on you, letting the scent fill your nose. It smelled even better than the day before. You felt filled with energy, invigorated again, like you needed to get out and release it. But first you just had to... had.... to... look... at...... you................had................to..........look..........at......f....???
"Yo, was I gonna do something man?" you asked, brow hunching in the same confused, dumb way his usually did.
"Yeah. You were gonna wear my gym clothes since you don't have your own. You just asked like a minute ago, man, haha. Remember?"
"Ah, my bad," you said laughing. You'd really zoned out there, haha. You threw on the muscle tee and thigh shorts he tossed you. They must've been from a three pack or something, because he put on the same exact ones.
"Lets get it, brah," he said, slapping you on the back.
"Lets gooo!" you said back, and you guys headed out.
It was the same as the day before. You were doing shoulder presses awfully at first, feeling awkward and self concious, but then his hands were under your arms and his voice was in your ear.
"Up and down, bro. Up and down. That's all that matters. Let all those other thoughts, other things you know about go. They're just weighing you down. You only need to know three things, bro."
You nodded, eyes glazing over again. "Up. And Down," you said, pressing the weight overhead cleanly. "Up. And Down," you repated, sinking into a smooth rhythm of presses. He stood next to you again, lifting at the same time as you. You felt yourself sweating all your thoughts out, getting dumber by the second. You knew you should stop but- buuu- u- up....
Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.
He took you through a bunch of other exercises, reminding you whenever he saw you lose focus. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.
You both got home an hour or two later, still panting and dripping with sweat from your lifts.
"That was sick, bro," he said, peeling his wet shirt off and bouncing his pecs in the mirror.
"Yeah, I feel great," you said, starting to peel the muscle tee off. It was tight, even before your pump, like it had been clinging to you throughout your workout, warming your chest. Now, it was tight because your chest seemed a lot bigger.
"Chest day best day!" He inhaled deeply. "Ah, you smell that bro? I missed that smell. When me and my twin would get back from the gym, this room would stink up in like 30 seconds and reek for days. Its been a while."
"Damn, it does reek in here," you said with a dumb laugh.
"Breathe it in. That's the smell of hard work, bruh."
You both took a deep inhale, laughing. It was so good having a friend to be a stupid guy with.
"Yeah, man," you said, finally managing to peel the shirt off. Your chest looked huge, wide, and puffy. Almost exactly like his... that was... weird....but they looked so... so... good... just like your shoulders you'd hit that day... and your back.... your lats looked like... like wings... wings..... flight.... wasn't there something you were supposed to do with a fligh-
You let out a gasp that turned into an "ahhhhhh" as he hit your sore muscles with the theragun. Part of you was realizing what was happening. You were still smart- somewhere in there. You were... you were somehow turning into him, literally. You tried to think about how, but it hurt. All the blood your brain was used to was flowing into your shoulders and chest as he massaged them. Thinking felt... bad... but... what was in the mirror looked... good.... yeah. You looked fucking good, like this. Yo.... you looked so good haha. Thinking.... bad.... lifting.... good... blood in... muscles.... not in.... brain.... lift.... more... get... sexier.
You felt energy surge through you again. Instinctually, you flexed in the mirror the way he did in the morning, grunting and scrunching your face. Toned muscle bulged under your skin as more and more blood and oxygen left your brain and poured into your muscles. You looked big, but you still felt small. You needed to get bigger... it felt.... urgent... like any time you spent not working out was time wasted. Your thoughts faded as he moved the theragun over you and your chest. It almost was like an exact replica of his.
Your eyes moved to him.
Gym.... bro.... love my.... gym.... bro.... love my..... bro.... wanna.... workout.... with my... bro
"Yo, it's still pretty early bro. You think we could lift again tonight, after dinner?"
"That's what I'm talkin about man," he said, slapping you on the back. "Love seeing you finally motivated to get in the gym and work on yourself."
"Feels great, dude," you said, hitting another pose in the mirror, staring at your muscles. Bigger.... need to.... get.... bigger...
"I told ya so."
"I know. I should've listened earlier. You're so smart, man."
"Haha, thanks man. Lets go get our protein in so we can get out there again. I'll go make our shakes. You shower first man- you stink," he said with a laugh.
"Haha," you said, lifting your pit and taking a big whiff of it. You did reek, but it smelled good, in a way. Like a sign of your hard work.
"Damn bro. I'm gonna need a gas mask in here," he joked, laughing as he walked out.
You laughed back. Joking with your bro was the best. You got into the shower, feeling all the new muscle in your body move under your skin. Feeling its power. The hot water just exacerbated it. You felt big- strong- but needed to get bigger- stronger- the thought was constant.
But- this wasn't... you?
You didn't... care about this stuff.
No.
This was all wrong. What were you doing lifting, focusing on superficial shit like this? What were you doing hanging around with this idiot? No- you had to get out of here. You'd be polite to him, but as soon as you got out of the shower, you'd book a flight for the next day. Enough of this! You'd been getting swayed by a pretty boy being nice to you, and it needed to stop.
He came in with the protein shakes just as you got out of the shower.
"Here you go man," he said, handing it to you. "Gave you a little extra," he said with a wink. Your glass had a little more in it than his did.
"Thanks dude," you said, putting it down. Fuck him and his protein shakes! "I'll have it in a minute. I just remembered I need to look up flights."
"You should really drink it first," he said, handing it back to you. "It's best to drink it as soon as possible. You don't wanna stay small, do you?"
Small? Small? No- never small- big- need to be big- big- huge- need- protein-
"Fuck no," you said suddenly, and before you could stop yourself you were grabbing it and gulping it down. It tasted good. Creamy. Really creamy.
"Damn that's good," you said, cheersing with him when he finished his. It was like you could feel the protein seeping through your body, repairing you. It felt so good. You felt confused, though.
"Yo, was I about to do something?" you asked.
"Yeah man. We were gonna do our meal preps for the rest of break. I'm so glad you decided to spend break here to focus on working out instead of going home with your family," he said.
"Huh? No, no, something with my phone..."
"Yeah man, remember? You were gonna tell your family you weren't gonna make it home this year. You really wanted to see them, but you didn't wanna waste a whole month away from your gym bro when you could be learning from me & making gains. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah yeah," you said. That made sense. Why else would you be here "Hell yeah man! Three solid weeks of nothing but lifting with my bro. No stupid classes or reading to distract us from what matters."
"Exactly man," he said, "C'mon, lets go make our meals for the week. Chicken broccoli and rice city!" You did, then headed to the gym.
You did legs this time.
"Just remember," he said as you got under the squat rack.
You nodded vacantly, feeling your mind slowly emptying again of everything except those three words. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.... Up ... And.... Down....
The next thing you knew you were grunting and dripping sweat as you boosted the 6 plates on your last rep up. Your legs were throbbing, bulging, and felt amazing. They looked bigger already, and you'd only done 4 sets of one exercise. He nodded approvingly.
You both got back from the 2nd round at the gym a couple hours later, scarfing your meals down out of your microwavable meal prep trays.
"Yo, did you see all those pussies on the treadmill staring at us?" you laughed.
"Of course man," he said, laughing back. "That's all they can do," he said as he flexed his huge, pumped muscles. "Stare and wish they were us."
"Feels good," you said, scarfing down your food. Both of you ate like pigs, spilling rice and shredded chicken all over your laps and the sides of your mouths. He went to get your protein shakes, and came back a few minutes later, once again with yours a little bit more full and creamy than his. Extra supps, he told you. When you were done, you cracked open the six pack his Dad had bought for you guys and started slamming them down while watching Family Guy, both laughing dumbly every couple minutes at it. You used to hate this show... but it was so funny! You'd just never given it a chance.
About 2 hours later, with empty beer cans strewn all around the room, you guys decided to get to bed. He went into the bathroom first, brushing his teeth and whipping his dick out to take a long, hot piss in the toilet. His eyes flickered over to your toothbrush, and he smiled. Grabbing it, he dropped it in front of his stream of piss, making sure to soak it thoroughly before putting it back in the holder.
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You came in once he was done and started brushing your teeth. Your toothbrush felt warm and tasted kind of funny, thank you, fuck it. You instinctually swallowed it as the taste hit your tongue, sucking it deep in to your stomach. It felt like your stomach was rumbling, then tightening, then pushing out, then tightening again. When you were done brushing your teeth, you lifted your shirt up to reveal a nice set of toned abs just like his. You smiled. Damn, he was a really good coach.
You stared into the mirror, reflecting on how much you'd changed over the last few days. You smiled dumbly, hitting pose after pose in the mirror. In pretty much everything but your face, you looked just like him now. Your arms were thick and corded, your pecs sat nice and high, your legs were ripped, stomach shredded. Even your feet had gotten bigger, going from a size 8 to a size 13, just like his, and you'd grown a few inches, too. Wait... taller? You didn't get taller from the gym...
...
...and why were you his exact height?
You threw open the bathroom door.
"Yo, what's going on here?"
"What do you mean, bro? Chill."
"Nah man. Are you like, turning me into you or some shit? This isn't cool, bro," you said, struggling to talk like how you used to, before "bro" and "man" and "bruh" were every other word?
He smiled. "Into me? Of course not. You could never be me. But I am making you into my twin brother, bro. Haha."
"Well it stops now, weirdo. I'm outta her-"
He grabbed your arms, pulling them towards your head, forcing you to flex. You let out a moan as blood pumped out of your brain, into your sore muscles. It felt so good. So warm... so.... relaxing. But, no, you had to leave – he turned you towards the mirror, showing you your reflection as you flexed. You gave a dumb smile at the hunk staring back at you, at all your hard work- no, he wasn’t gonna get you like this again---
"Just look at yourself, bro," he said slowly massaging your thick traps. Waves of heat flowed over you- no– you had to- leave. He bent down, lifting your leg onto the ball of your foot. Your thick calf muscles contracted, stealing more blood from your brain, pumping more down into your body. It felt so good after a long workout. So good. So waaaaarm, you thought while he bent you into pose after pose like his mannequin and you stared in awe at what you'd become. You were.... hot.
"You’re telling me you don’t like this, bro? That you'd rather be a little nerdy bitch like before?"
It– it felt so… Good... you looked so… Good... you look like… Someone you would’ve thirsted after for months before .. you... loved it. It felt good. Before you knew it, he'd taken his brother's chain off the dresser and fastened it around your neck.
Your mind instantly blanked as he did it. What the fuck were you thinking? Leaving? When he was fucking turning you into a god for free? What kinda ungrateful piece of shit loser was the old you? Nah, he wanted nothing to do with that shit. You were lucky to be here.
"I was gonna wait until we were done to do this to you, but since that nerd in you has so much fight apparently, we can just get it over with now. It doesn’t really matter," he said.
"You want to act like a fag? I’ll treat you like a fag, boy," he said grabbing your head and rubbing it against his bulge. His big. Warm.. bulge... Your eyes glazed even more. "That's right, broski. Tell me how you really feel."
He was fucking sexy. You tried to lie to yourself all year and tell yourself that you didn’t like him, that he was annoying, that he was an idiot. But still, you stared at him whenever you could, every time he'd come into the room with his towel... take a peek every time he was in his boxers. Pretended you didn’t like him and denied it. But you did. You hated the girls that he brought back to the room because you wished it was you in there, getting pounded out by him, or maybe you wished you were him, getting to be such a stupid fucking asshole and still getting all the ass you wanted. He must’ve felt like a king.
You suddenly realize'd that you said all this out loud. Your mouth dropped open in surprise- but- how...
"Good, good. Now tell me, wouldn’t it feel nice if someone felt that way about you, boy?" Your eyes lit up.
"Me?"
"Yeah you. You’re going to be a God just like me boy. And I get the gym bro! Everyone wins."
You nodded slowly as he pulled his cock out, rubbing it against your face. Yeaaaaaah. Jock cock. You'd always loved jock cock when you'd been.... gay? No, you weren't gay... you'd never been gay. This was just bonding with your bro, haha.
Your tongue lapped up the precum off the tip of his dick. He shuddered, his cut, muscular hips thrusting instinctually. Your mouth opened just as automatically, sucking his cock. It felt so easy to hold yourself up with your new, big muscles as he pounded your mouth. His balls slipped out of his boxers, slapping you in the face as he thrust into you. They smelled great.
"Ahhhhhh yeah," he said, grabbing your hand and placing it on his tight ass. You gripped it, feeling the power from years of squats in it. "We got one more step left, broski. Tomorrow we're gonna put my facecream and gel on you and fix that busted face and wack haircut of yours. You’ll look just like me, bro. And you'll love it. I want that nerd inside of you watching while I snuff the last of him out- well, while you do it, really. He'd hate you so much, now," he said, pulling you off his dick and turning you towards the mirror again. "Look at you now, just a dumb jock big boy."
You smiled goofily in the mirror, flexing again at the sight of yourself. "Dumb jock big boy". The words resonated in your brain. Yeah, dumb jock big boy you thought, flexing harder. Hahaha. No- you weren't a jo- dumb jock big boy. Hahahaha. Yeah, you were just a dumb jock big boy- no- no- you were smar... just a dumb jock big boy. No matter what else you tried to think, it was the only thing your mind would land on. You flexed even more. You couldn't help it. Your body looked... so.... fucking... good. You felt like a ... man. Brutish. Powerful. You had muscles... big... muscles.... you couldn't stop staring... you fely so... powerful... needed... more powee. Needed... to get bigger. Needed... to be a msn not a cyck beta loser.
"That's it. Who's my dumb jock bro?"
"Me," you said proudly.
"I thought you were too good for that shit tho? Too smart?"
"Nah," you said.
"Damn boy, I trained you good."
"Yes. Showed me what matters. Need to get bigger," you said in a trance. Any resistance felt far away now. You couldn't really talk in complete sentences anymore. "Bigger. Stronger. More powerful."
"We will get you there, bro," he said, sliding your mouth back onto his cock. We're going to get you there, together. Plus, then we can be reeeeaaal bros! Like, bros for real. We can tell my parents my bro came back. You can just enroll in school and come back with me. It'll be like he never left. And you actually get to be something, instead of being a dumb nerd. Everyone wins!"
You nodded. Real bros. He was like your brother already, kinda. Yeah.
"I love you bro," you said.
"I love you to bro- ahhh- AHhhhhhh"
You felt his legs tense and back arch a little, and a blast of his cum shot down your throat, then another, then another. The necklace got hot around your neck as you swallowed them. You gulped each down, feeling your body absorbing them, feeling him seep into you, take you over, and crush any chance you had of turning back. Yeah. Good. You didn't want to turn back. You didn't want the nerd loser in you to take control. This was you now. You were in control.
He thrust into you a couple more times as you licked the last of his cum off his cock. He tapped the back of your head twice approvingly as you finished him off and slid his cock out of your mouth.
"See you in the morning, bro. You won't remember this part tomorrow. You'll just wake up, see my putting my moisturizer on and gel in, and come to do the same. Like I said, I want that nerd inside you watching while we complete your transformation, wanting to stop it, but unable to. Because this," he said, placing your hand on his bicep, and placing your other hand on your own bicep, "just feels too good."
You nodded dumbly. "I love you, bro" was all you could say.
"Love you too, bro. Goodnight!"
You woke up the next morning, just as he said, to see him putting the moisturizer all over his face and styling his hair. You walked over, asking him if you could use some. He looked so good. You just really wanted to use whatever he used.
"Sure thing, bro. What's mine is yours."
He passed it to you. You took a thick glob out, smearing it on your face. It tingles a little bit as you put it on, like the shaving cream head. Part of you was yelling, no, that you didn't like this, that you wanted to keep your old life, that you didn't want to be his twin and give up everything you had, but that voice was quiet now. It was drowned out by the demands of your big, hulking body, your shrinking brain, the testosterone pumping through you, and the burning desire you know how to get bigger and look good, constantly. The old you needed to go. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't stop you from rubbing the cream in deeper and deeper. Had... to... look.... good... you thought as you ran a big glob of his white gel through your hair.
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You both watched, smiling, as your face bubbled and changed and your hair lightened and shortened, perfectly matching his, erasing the final part of you. His brothers Your chain got hot around your neck as a bunch of his brother's your old memories floated into your head. All the details of his your life, everything you needed to know to convince his your parents that he'd you'd come back home.
"It's so great to have you back, bro," your roommate brother said. "I been so lonely at the gym," he said flexing in the mirror.
"Good to be back, bro," you said, hitting the same pose.
His real brother never did end up coming back. You lived happily ever after as a dumb jock big boy, hitting the gym with your bro everyday.
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yoshi1517 · 6 months
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The diver
Mark and Sam were inseparable friends, they loved spending weekends at the lake and diving to see the lakebed.
Unfortunately, during one of his dives, Mark felt something enter his ear, at first he tried to remove it but little by little Mark's body calmed down, now he was no longer himself, now his body was under the control of an alien parasite. When he got back on the boat, the parasite looked at his host, he was muscular, attractive and it couldn't wait to spread through other men like his host.Sam saw his friend with green eyes "Everything okay buddy?" “Never felt better,” Mark said as he approached
then he took his friend's head and gave him a kiss.
Sam didn't have time to understand what was happening before he felt something enter his mouth.
After a while Sam was smiling too and returning Mark's kisses
"Now we have to go back to the shore, there are our friends waiting for us, they have to join us too" said Mark while Sam nodded and the two set off towards the shore of the lake to go home.
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siremasterlawrence · 7 months
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Forming A Family
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Professor Michael Eric is alone in the class room as I enter to see him fixing his pants it is quite funny to me. He is nice guy a bit arrogant also a bit cute if I say so myself I often wonder whats under those clothes.I close the door behind me with a slight kick to the side I dig into my pocket to find my experiment for class.The magic device is a tiny game piece cube dice black and white color of course slipping across the floor.
The cube hits his feet as he looks down to see it, he bends down to pick it up as it lit up exploding with light. The room fills up with light reaching the brim of the roof showcasing my power automatic in its process he freezes.Quickly I lock the door with keys he places on the desk shutting it tightly he stops in mid motion.Falling to the floor he is in a state of shock lost to obey me and he lays under my utter influence.
I smirk making way to the windows shutting the window, yanking the window shades as well and soon. I am left to my excitement once more taking my hands I press my palm onto his mighty shoulders shoving him down to the seat below.I command him to hand my my cube then I place it away snapping my fingers as he is awaken in a state of shock he looks the area over. Cupping his chin I lift him up in to the air as i kiss him slowly then point his head in the direction ahead of him and switch his chair to face the board.
My hand now in the air I snap my fingers so strong it sends a shake up his spine as he is vibrating into a deep empty, emotionless void. His head pops up staring straight ahead at me with smirk as I write down the classes name on the board and it gloriousness of his disbelief.
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“What is this? Class 101: The Re-education of a pussy.” he says to himself under his breath.
“Welcome Pussy! It is time for your first lesson.” I state ignoring his protest I hit the board hard.
“Ooooouuuuucchhhhh” the loud sound hits his ears instinctively and his head begins to
pound.
“Asshole! You are such a fucking pussy.”
“I am your Lord and Master”
“Now you listen to me Lawrence “
“That’s Master Lawrence to you “
“Take my hand and stand up “
“You will rise as I command”
“Why am I doing what you say?”
“I am your Professor “
“I am your Master”
“Yes! I can’t deny it”
“You have no will of your own”
“I suggest you get it”
“As you wish “
“You are happy and you are fulfilled”
“It’s my life’s goal. Yes !”
“You got that right “
“This body is a vessel”
“A vessel of pure power “
“I am your God”
“Submission is to please you “
“Pleasure is love”
“All I want is to be you “
“Oh My Master”
“Have you seen my eyes?”
“No Master!”
“Peer into them”
“Then kiss me”
“Mmmmmmm”
“I will break you in”
“In half”
“Recreate you”
“Rebuild you”
“You ass is perfection”
“I could sit on it”
“Tap it off”
“Do you understand what I have done?”
“You force me to succumb “
“I am in your enthrall”
“I exist for you “
“You are my life”
“I do all for you “
“Surrender to my will”
“All I ask is you keep me”
“Never permit me to leave”
“Put me out “
“Please Master”
“Desperate huh”
“Fuck! Kneel”
“I love you “
“My king”
“Good boi”
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The end
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helloblobbyblobfish · 3 months
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Hypnovember day 16: Servant/master
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This prick over here is named Chad. I'm serious. Chad King. I honestly would feel bad if the guy didn't own up to the stuck-up vibe such a name evokes.
Anyway, I'm sure you all know the story. Straight asshole jock bullies gay nerd; well, I'm another football player, but it was still close enough; bullied victim gets revenge by hypno. The classics are retold over again and again for a reason. Simple. Satisfying. Sexy. Something else that begins in s.
In my case, it was that sweet little gadget-watch my inventor uncle came up with before rising through the ranks of the company who had previously fired him for moral reasons. Uncle Jared always uses the same passwords. Opening his files and then his safe was super-easy, and with his newly found wealth, he had no problem “sharing” the secret of his success and giving me an improved version of the watch.
Now, I literally own the King family. The contract they signed wouldn't hold in a court of law, of course, but we all found it hot that we ritualized my dominion on them.
Chad especially is finding himself so happy to be spanked then fucked by daddy dearest each day before following me around as my manservent. I even had him abandon his designer clothes for cheaper preppy clothes, and he has an almost-decent British butler accent now.
The rest of the team is too focused on sucking me to care about the odd changes in their loser former leader. 
Life is good, hey? I knew you would see things my way when I showed you my uncle's gift. No way my former boyfriend isn't joining Chad’s place at my beck and call. Yeah, I knew you would agree, babe. Now go polish my shoes.
-
@mathhypnostories
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hypnohimbro · 20 days
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Transforming from a twink faggot to a masculine... controlled... brainwashed cop.
One flash at a time.
(Anyone feel like making this a story?)
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subsyd78 · 1 year
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Seriously having one of those days where I don't think I can concentrate at all. Well, unless someone tried to trance me. Then I think I'd concentrate fine!
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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 month
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The New Garbageman
Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'
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The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.
'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.
Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.
Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!
"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.
A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...
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Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.
"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.
He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!
Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.
Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!
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"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.
He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?
Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!
He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!
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Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!
He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?
Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.
Then all of a sudden, he stopped...
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That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.
Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.
Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.
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"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.
Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.
Suddenly it, clicked.
"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.
Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."
The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.
Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.
His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...
Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...
One Year Later...
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Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.
His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.
He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.
The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.
Well, that wasn't entirely true...
Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.
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After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.
All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.
Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.
It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.
So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.
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Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines
It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.
He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.
Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?
Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan
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bigboysfalldeep · 5 months
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There I was—a loner, sitting inside a crowded lounge, looking at the ring laying in the palm of my hand.
"It's just not going to work." I told myself over and over again, but I had nothing to lose.
I bought it weeks prior from a weird yet friendly stranger—a middle-aged dude looking quite sharp, but something about him was off. He contacted me after I went down the hypnosis rabbit hole. I read multiple articles and posts and watched so many different videos about how to hypnotize someone, willing or not. I even left a comment under one post, even though I was anxious. I was new to this—all of this—and I didn't want anyone to look at me differently.
I always dreamt of hypnotizing a handsome jock to make him my own, but this wasn't happening in real life, was it? That's exactly what I thought when that man reached out to me, offering me this ring. A beautiful silver ring with a blue stone—alluring yet nothing too special.
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He told me that this would help me make my wish come true; the only thing he asked for was for me to share some of my future "acquaintances."
I shook my head in disbelief. I was so stupid to trust in this man and his sly smile. He was probably enjoying my hundred bugs while I was blinded by my fantasies.
I put the ring in my pocket and got up from my table. There was no point in staying here any longer; I wanted to go home.
But that's when I saw this handsome man sitting at a table, all alone. He was smoking a cigar and blew a ton of smoke into the air all around him while leaning back against the sofa. His eyes wandered through the room; he seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting from a few people around the lounge, including me.
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He looked so good—a well-groomed beard, nice hair, a very hot body—everything I dreamt of. That man had that look on his face: he knew how good he looked, and he was bathing in attention—mine at least.
Something deep inside me wanted this man so badly. I immediately imagined him being mine and mine alone—how good it would feel to touch him, toy with him, and just own him. Good god, I felt myself getting lost inside this daydream.
At this point, I felt the ring inside my pocket. I pulled it out again, looking at it with desire and anxiety. Would this actually work? Or was I in for a beating?
"Fuck it." I breathed and let the silver slide onto my finger. Oddly enough, it fit quite well, but I wasn't feeling any different. I hoped it would feel different, special, or something else. This wasn't encouraging at all.
Shaking my head again, I made my way through the crowd toward that beautiful stranger. He didn't even look at me until I sat down right next to him, causing him to turn his head, giving me a curious but suspicious look.
"Can I help you?" That guy looked at me; I felt his gaze burning my skin, even though I wasn't looking at him yet. I knew he saw me for what I was: a loner, maybe a random creep, but I didn't care.
I placed a finger at the ring and moved it, causing the crystal to move along my finger.
"I hope so." I said, my voice breaking slightly when I turned my head to meet his gaze. Fuck, he was even better looking up close. His lips, eyes, and beard are perfection.
The guy narrowed his eyes at me, and I felt the tension rising between us.
A little taken aback, he regained his composure. "Oh fuck, he was going to clock me," I thought. But the guy online told me to do exactly that—make the ring spin a few times.
"I don't know who you are, but you better..." The guy suddenly stopped, his eyes now stuck at the slightly glowing ring.
I was prepared to just make a run for it when I noticed that he was focused on the ring. His expression softened slowly; the scowl vanished completely, replaced by an empty look in his eyes.
Oh, those beautiful eyes—they lost their shimmer, just barely, but I could tell something was happening deep inside that gorgeous head.
As I kept spinning the ring, he tilted his head, and his expression softened even more. He looked at me with uncertainty, like asking for help. Both of us didn't know what was happening.
"Who?" He said it, with his voice sounding a little deeper than before. I looked him in the eyes before he broke eye contact.
The guy placed a hand on his chest, looking into the distance. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, and his face turned blank.
I was shocked yet aroused. He had a similar expression to all those handsome studs online when they went under, and I felt the ring heating up against my skin. It didn't hurt, but it was kind of unpleasant.
He took several deep breaths until he closed his eyes, leaning back against the sofa again.
"Are you okay?" I said, unsure of what was exactly happening to him, because it couldn't be caused by the ring, could it?
Carefully, I placed a hand on these thick thighs, but he didn't react at first; instead, he slowly opened his eyes after a few seconds, looking at me with vacant eyes and his mouth hanging open.
He looked soft and submissive, and I had to control myself not to let out a moan right here and then.
This was the exact expression I was seeing online in all those videos and pictures, but was he just messing with me? He and the other guy must be toying with me. This can't be real.
I contemplated just leaving, but something deep inside me told me to stop. The guy kept looking at me, waiting for something—perhaps orders.
My eyes shifted across his face and upper body as he wasn't moving an inch. That's when I noticed the cigar in his other hand.
"Do you mind?" I motioned for the cigar, and without any hesitation, he gave it to me and watched me as I started smoking.
I felt the hot smoke fill my lungs, and I just tested my luck. I blew smoke right into the guy's face, but, unbothered, he kept looking at me.
This made me cry right away. Fuck, he was so hot. I started to stroke his thighs gently, and he started to growl contently, even closing his eyes for a second.
If this was a joke, I admired his commitment. But what if it was real?
I looked at the still-shimmering ring and then back to the stud. He was breathing deeply, and I loved seeing his chest heave with every breath he took. I licked my lips while stroking his thighs.
"What's your name?" I asked him as I moved a little closer before putting the cigar into the ashtray.
"M..Matt." His now-rough voice barely came out as he struggled to think. He really was a mindless toy, just responding to me.
"I want to go home, Matt. Do you want to come?" I asked him, my voice breaking once more. I expected him to deny my request, but to my surprise, he just nodded.
I blinked a few times; I couldn't believe my luck. Was that ring actually working?
"Let's go then." I motioned toward the door and started to get up from the sofa.
He was a bit unsteady on his feet and needed my help to regain his composure again, but then he followed me closely. A few people watched us, but I don't care what they might have thought. I was going home with that little, empty jock boy.
Everything happened so fast, and I found myself on the road, with that beautiful specimen sitting beside me, watching me closely.
I felt my cock tent hard inside my jeans; I was surely already leaking just looking at this man. At every stop, every red light, I turned my head to find him looking at me: his eyes slightly unfocused, that muscly man with an empty mind.
I was still in disbelief—that ring—was it really the source of all this? Maybe, but that was something to figure out later.
Just then, the guy started to growl again, and when I turned my head, I found him stroking his own dick through his jeans. So fucking hot.
I felt the ring heating up around my finger—was it reading my mind? Hearing soft growls and moans, I couldn't help it. Instinctively, I stroked myself as well, just like all the times watching videos online.
A warm glow engulfed my stomach as he kept stroking himself while looking at me. I knew I couldn't wait any longer.
I took a turn toward the first empty parking lot, stopped the car, and tried to steady my breath. The car was filled with Matt's deep voice, growling and breathing deeply.
I bit my lower lip, and watching that stud get more and more into it made me harder than ever before. Subconsciously, I reached out and placed a hand on his chest. Right away, he moaned deeply.
His chest felt so good; all the hours he spent hitting the gym paid off as all of his muscles tensed hard against the fabric of his thin shirt. Just touching him made me nearly lose it.
Matt leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a few moments before staring into the distance again. He struggled to keep the door open, like a sleepy, horny jock boy. At the same time, he kept touching himself firmer and firmer.
My body was shaking, my dick was pulsating inside my jeans, and my breathing got even quicker. I hold back a giggle while intensifying my strokes. I observed how firm his pecs were and how they imprinted through his clothes as his entire body bulged more and more.
"Fuck." I moaned, playing with his hard nipple, when he suddenly turned his head toward me, smiling derpily. He was enjoying this just as much as I was.
"Let me see." I held back another long moan before I pulled his shirt up, taking a long, good look at his bare chest. Oh, fuck, was he hot? He was hairy as well, just the way I liked it. I ran a hand along his entire chest, through his pecs, and down to his treasure trail, and Matt was grunting under his breath like a puppy.
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As I stroked him again and again, he smiled at me, completely unbothered. His skin felt so good, soft yet firm, and all of him reacted to the most gentle touch. His breathing quickened slightly, and Matt swallowed hard a few times.
He just purred happily and smiled, while my hand ran over his entire chest over and over again. His body was telling me about his excitement. His muscles grew harder, veins got more visible due to the tesnion building up inside him, and most importantly, his dick was standing at attention.
With one final stroke, I let my hand run down right to his crotch, and when I felt him for the first time, he left the tip of my cock. I tried to hold it back, but I just couldn't. I grabbed myself, trying to stop, but it just felt too good. Matt was still smiling with that lovely empty expression, and I felt that ring heating up once more. It didn't bother me; I was too busy fondling my new toy.
I tried to focus, but I could see my own cock move inside my pants. Turning away, I looked at the guy again, who was now drooling while moaning contently. In response, I groaned loudly, and my back bent away from the seat—my body held in so much pressure, and feeling this guy's massive cock made it much worse.
"Fuck." I growled deeply, and that's when Matt reached out to me. At first, I thought he snapped out of it or the spell was broken, but instead, he grabbed my hard cock as well and started to fondle with it, making it much harder to not cum already.
The ring was now burning my skin again, but that pain was nothing compared to the pure pleasure running through my veins.
Together, we unbuttoned my jeans, exposing my wet boxers, but he didn't hesitate. He tugged at my underwear—so eager, yet his expression was emotional. Still, it felt so good to be touched by him—his warm hands, his gentle touch—so good.
With a little help, he pulled my boxers down—the tip of my dick was clinging on to the wet fabric, fuck.
I looked at him again, and he was looking at me. I placed a hand on his cheek and stroked him; his skin was so soft, his beard well taken care of, and his lips were a dream come true. My hand ran through his hair as he kept purring.
Firmly, I grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, smelling him for the very first time. His cologne was thick, yet the smell of sweat was coming through more and more.
My eyes rolled back quickly before I regained my composure. He kept looking at me while I pushed him down, but, like a well-trained boy, Matt opened his mouth, swallowing my hard cock whole.
I could have cried out right then, but it was just the beginning.
That guy knew his way around a man's cock, using his tongue while sucking me off. Rhythmically, he moved his mouth while I encouraged him to go even deeper.
I never had this before: a hot guy willingly—more or less—sucking my cock. It was a sight to behold. It made my entire body heat up quickly, as I was edging myself on already.
I didn't know if I pushed too hard when he gagged, but it was alright. He steadied himself against my thighs while I leaned back contently.
Watching this handsome fella made me feel so good that I ran a hand through his nicely done hair. He really made sure to groom himself. Everything sat perfectly; that's why I wanted him so much.
"Thats alright. Good boy." I said—I loved when they said that in the videos.
And he reacted even better than expected: he groaned happily and his body shuddered. Such a good boy.
That's when I reached my limits. I pushed him further down as I shot my first load, then another, and another. I wanted him to take it all, and as expected, he didn't fight back.
As I was running dry, I released him, and he slowly, swaying back and forth, resumed his position.
He licked his lips; his eyes were foggy and unfocused, but his body was so excited.
"Good boy." I stroked his chest a few times and patted him. He smiled and leaned back as well.
For a second, I just sat there, thinking. "I should take him home." I thought so, but at first, I wanted to have some fun.
I encompassed his firm upper body again before I unbuttoned his jeans as well. His dick was tenting visibly, and I wanted to see it.
I pulled his enormous wet cock out of his underwear. I assumed he had a big dick, but it was even better than expected.
I moved my hand up and down his shaft, and he purred again while looking at me. 
Drooling heavily, he stained his clothes already, but it wouldn't stop.
"Let's get home, body." I stroked him again before I turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
On my way back home, I used every opportunity to fondle with his stick—he even leaked again, much to my amusement.
He watched me the whole time, smiling derpily and drooling. I knew he liked it.
From time to time, Matt let out several long groans, his body shifting slightly. I knew he wanted to cum so badly, but something was holding him back.
Back at home, still inside the car, I turned and found him looking at me pleadingly, and my breath quickened again. One of his hands was resting on his thighs, and the other was firmly stroking his meat.
"Fuck." I moaned looking at this man, craving my touch so much. So I wrapped my hand around his massive cock and moved it rhythmically.
Matt whimpered, and he let out a few moans of pleasure. He was so close already that he shot one massive load, spreading his cum all over his clothes.
At this time, his eyes rolled back, and an even wider smile spread across his lips.
That was when I came into my pants again—it just looked so hot. Matt was mine now; I owned him.
I looked at the ring, still shimmering, and took several deep breaths. Then I remembered what the guy online told me to share.
I got Matt dressed back up and wanted to take a picture. But I had a better idea.
I lifted my boy's shirt back up and snatched a picture. I never felt better in my entire life.
I wonder what the guy's going to say to Matt.
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goodboyyyy · 11 months
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You'd dreamed of leaving this town once.
Moving to a big city, being surrounded by other creative gay people like you.
But that was before him.
Your neighbor.
He’d gotten divorced recently. It wasn’t hard to tell why. His wife traveled a lot for work, which he didn't like. You could tell from the constant arguments you heard. He'd say such old school, dumb shit, like women should be in the home, not out traveling and working. You'd always thought he was a square, suburban loser, mad the world was changing around him and he wasn't keeping up.
But that was before....
Before the day he invited you in for dinner while your parents were away the summer after you graduated college. You still didn't know why you'd said yes. You figured a free meal couldn't be that bad.
But once you were inside you didn't see any food, and theb he'd walked up to you, towering over you, and told you you were going to make him dinner.
And you hadn't know why, but you did get to work on his dinner. Well, you knew why, kinda- because your cock had gotten rock hard almost instantly at his command- but you didn't know why that had happened- why this man telling you what to do made you hard and drooling and eager to please someone you'd despised.
But you knew now.
Master had explained it all to you. He had to, since you were a dumb beta boy. He'd made you realize that, and that you needed a man like him to explain things to you. Thinking wasn't for you, you knew now.
He told you he'd tell you why you wanted to move away soon while you cooked, eyes glazed as you prepared his dinner and he stood behind you, massaging you gently, whispering into your ear.
You didn't care about being around other artsy people, or gay people.
You just wanted to find a boyfriend. A man. That's what all your ideas about moving were about. Sex. You were just a dick crazed little homo, after all. You thought if you went off to a big city, you could find a dream guy. A guy you could serve.
And he was right. That was all you wanted, really. You thought it was about love... but it was just about sex. A man who could hold you, own you, a man you could worship. That was what you wanted.
Because moving would've been settling, he told you.
That part confused you at first. But Master always made everything make sense once he explained it. That's why he was Master. Somehow, every deep desire you'd never admitted and others you'd never even realized were plain as day to him. That's how you knew he was inescapable. He knew your wiring better than you did, He knew your body's code, and how to manipulate it. Incident after incident, you slowly accepted that you weren't in control of your body. He was. You were simply an extension of him, of his will, like an instrument he could use.
But back to moving being a form of settling.
The thing was, since deep down, deeeeeeep down, all you wanted was sex, not love, a gay guy wasn't ideal for you.
Your sex crazed body, desperate to submit, searched for one thing in a man.
Power.
Power you'd have no choice but to submit to.
And who better than a chauvinistic, suburban straight man who truly believed having a cock meant there should be someone to wait on him, pick up after him, and serve him at all times?
You didn't want someone to love and understand you. You wanted someone who'd degrade you and could still have you begging for their cock. An alpha. A stern, stoic man, not a sensitive little beta boy like you.
You'd just never dreamed that was possible, he'd told you, stroking the side of your face with his hand, immobilizing you. You'd given up on it. You'd accepted that at best, you could date a gay dom. But you didn't have to settle, he'd told you. You could serve a real man now, one who was put on this earth to be obeyed, all without ever leaving your town.
So you gave up all those dreams in favor of making sure he had a hot meal on the table every night when he'd get home.
You gave up moving away. Making sure he had someone to stock his fridge and clean his house was more important.
You gave up your dream of leaving this small town, of escaping this boring place, and let him trap you in the loop of a suburban life, literally. You'd left your parents a note that you'd moved suddenly, so you couldn't leave his house in case they'd see you. But you... didn't mind at all. You felt yourself starting to love being in this town, love being a housewife.
You slowly grew to love your routine: wake up, iron his work clothes, start preparing his dinner, do his laundry, clean his house, and wait for him to come home. You'd lay his night clothes out for him, pick his dirty work clothes off the floor where he'd drop them, and get him his slippers. Then you'd serve him his dinner and hand him his dinner, which he'd read the entire time, ignoring you. Anything you said was met with a uncaring grunt. It made you want his attention more and more, cook more and more complicated meals hoping for a reaction, but always the same nonchalant responses from him, building a growing sense of desperation in you to please him. To make him happy. To know you were doing a good job...
...Which would have you in the perfect headspace for the next part of the night. You'd clean his plate, then head into thr living room, where he'd lay his huge, hairy body out on the recliner, kick his big man feet up, and wait for you to serve. You'd drop to your knees, recalling the first time he'd made you do this. He'd told you to serve your purpose. You understood completely. Your purpose was to worship, to be obedient to an alpha like him. You'd fallen to your knees, taking his foot in your mouth. They were so big. They radiated power. He looked sp right sprawled out like that, waiting to be worshipped. You kissed and licked his big, sweaty feet every night like it was the first time. They'd always been special to you. They were the first part of him you ever worshipped. They'd made you give up everything you'd ever wanted and cared about. You lived to serve them, now, and him.
When you were done with his feet you'd move up to rubbing his back and his thick, bulging biceps. They were hypnotizing. So big, like his arms were inflated. Hammers like that were the sign of a real man, so you weren't too surprised the first time your mouth drifted from them, deep in a trance, following the scent to his hairy, sweaty pits and started licking them. You'd gasped and shuddered, snapping out of it for a minute, simultaneously repulsed and entranced by the bitter taste of his sweat, but he just sat there, watching TV, knowing your repulsion would turn to lust, knowing a growing need for that taste was building within you.
You'd squirmed a little. Some part of you still struggled. For a second, you thought you had too much self-respect for this. You didn't want to be this suburban loser's pit licker. But... of course you did, you thought as your eyes fell back to his huge biceps and back down to his dark, hairy pits. They were so bushy. So manly. They demanded respect, like him. To lick his armpits was an honor. You wanted to lick his yummy, manly pits. You wanted him to know he had total control over you, that you'd do anything for him. Nothing was too humiliating. You were smacking your lips together now, sucking the taste left in your mouth down- the taste of his godly sweat. You were suddenly drooling for it, wanting to lick every drop up. You dove back into his pit, licking it all over, and cleaning his sweaty pits after you massaged his back and arms became part of your nightly ritual.
Your nightly ritual slowly got longer and longer as you became more consumed with serving him, licking every inch of his toes and pits and eventually his thick, hairy chest you'd lay your head on and feel warm and safe, sucking on his nipple while he watched tv and ignored you.
And then one night he popped his pants open, whipped his cock out, and fucked you like a ragdoll. You lost it when you saw it, mounting him instantly. For once, he smiled.
"You've learned your purpose, boy. You're ready to become mine, fully."
Hia filled you with pleasure, sending waves of relaxation through you that let him easily slid into you.
Your eyes rolled back. In that moment you were entirely broken- once a free sprit yearning to leave your town and see the world, now just another soul content to cook and clean and get fucked by some guy who didn't really care about them.
But that didn't matter. When you found a man- a master- someone with a cock like his who knows how to use it, none of that matters. Being treated well doesn't matter. Being respected doesn't matter. Only he matters. Night after night as he laid back and stared at you with his uncaring, superior gaze, stretching his feet out and arms overhead to show off his bushy pits, you saw yourself less and less as your own person snd simply as an extension of him. All he had to do was lay back like that, and you were his. A tool for his pleasure, like an appliance. Men like him could do that. They could draw you in, make you forget yourself and fill you up with your own desires till you forgot who you were at all. They could replace all your. dreans with a need to settle down and serve them. You'd always swore it'd never happen to you, but now you understood how easily it could happen, how easily a nice pair of arms and a stern voice could make your life and body theirs.
You rode him, letting him lay back while you did all the work. You spluttered and moaned, drool dripping out of your mouth and down your chest as you caught a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth on him, pulling him deeper and deeper into you. But he was pretty nonchalant, as usual, turning his attention mostly to the tv and only back to you from time to time. You just wanted him to smile, to tell you you'd done a good job, but you knew he probably wouldn't. But maybe, one day if you were good enough, he would.
Everything kind of got fuzzy once he emptied his balls into you, face still expressionless. You felt his thick cock pulsing in you, felt his hot cum filling you, and you fell forward onto his chest, face landing in his pit. His dick was still in you, still pumping you full of the last few drops of him. You shuddered and nuzzled against his hairy chest as his thick arms curled around you and your own wrapped around him inatinctively, clinging to him tight.
"Fuck me every night, sir," you gasped. "Let me please your cock like I'm meant to. Fuck me every night," you repeated over and over. You thought you'd wanted him bad before, but now you needed him. You felt your entire bosy burning with desire for him, for his cock.
He kissed your forehead and you practically melted. "See? I told you I could take you deeper. How do you like it, boy," he said, pulsing his cock in you another two or three times, watching you shudder.
"Fuck me every night, sir," was all you could say. You- who.. were... you...? But then you felt his warm body under you and you knew.
You were his slave.
That was all you ever were.
That was all you ever would be.
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yoshi1517 · 6 months
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the best friend
Stefano had always had a crush on his best friend, he was attractive with his wavy hair, his beard and his athletic body. Unfortunately for him they were just friends.
At a certain point Stefano couldn't resist the temptation and thanks to a magic book he found in the school library, he decided to make his best friend fall in love. In those days Stefano had made him smell a perfume when they were together so that little by little he would fall in love with him. One day he noticed how his friend was close to him, how he hugged him and how his mouth looked for him.
Finally, one day while they were in the car Stefano tried to ask him.
"Hey, you know, I'd like to tell you something?" the friend turned to listen to him "I wanted to tell you that I saw you these days, how you were close to me, I thought you didn't like me that way" Stefano said waiting for a response from his friend. The friend smiled and said "You're right, I don't know why but I can't stay away from you, I would like to be next to you all the time, smell your perfume, feel your hips" then moving closer "and kiss your beautiful lips" Stefano found himself with his friend in front of his face looking at him, it had worked and the two started kissing in the car. their story had just begun.
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siremasterlawrence · 1 month
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I was waiting but here is the official last story for this blog at least for now.
The Tactical Revision Part 1
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It is ridiculous for me to get a phone call at 4 pm my time, finally picking it up to hear him once again even though I did not want to do so and I his voice so soft but books up a bit into my ears.
He coos telling me he is across the street on the side of my house because he wants to meet me finally and I sigh getting dressed to head out side to meet him as I walk down the stairs.
I exit my apartment a building door heading down two side walk as I head to the side of the building and I pass my building on to the next two blocks and that is where I see him in his glory.
My goodness six foot four, muscle bound and in a two hounded and fifty pounds I am utterly amazed and licking my lips in a fit of glory and I stand still checking him fork head to toe.
He waves at me this muscle is actually shy in both his voice, tone and especially his facial expression and he winks at me in utter excitement as I wait for the car to pass and then run over.
Opening his arms he wraps them over my shoulders yanking me in to his body as I pat his back and he knows that I am in charge as he refuses to let me go but I push him away.
He stops cold staring down at me as I am pointing toward the car seat as he plops it the side for me as I enter and he joins me on the driver seat side as he waits for me to instruct him.
I command him to turn on the ignition as he was ordered driving off to the hotel I tell him to get a room at and he walks through the door to the elevator and stepping on to it before he zooms up.
The text rings on my cellphone as I follow to the room going up to the fourth floor with a smile as the door cracks to the side and we are soon all alone as he kisses me slowly his lips stir.
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I shove him off to the side pinning him on to the door with my body pressing on to his massive muscular body and I can see him checking me out from head to toe his heart is up.
It races after a quicker speed beating up of it all, his hands go crazy continuously move throughout and he knows it is over for him no matters what and calming him down once more.
My lips match his mash our lips together as we make out a bit feeling him up as he is squirming a bit and he juts under my body knowing he wants me he begs me to fuck him.
Rolling my eyes I brush past him walking to the window avoiding his face but staring out of the glass and he makes his move grabbing my shoulders facing me so he can force me.
His eyes bare down in to mine bleeding even more all I know is had to have him using my foot to kick him in to a chair and lift my leg sitting on his lap and begin to kiss him at steady pace.
His body melts onto the chair as he cannot resist me barely holding on, his eyes follow me as I lift my hand in to the air as I snap it and he his head falls to his chin with eyes rolling to he is clothes.
Clapping my hands in excitement I rise to my feet standing up towards the sky look down at him and with a creepy smile I begin to undo his shirt throwing it in to the air I am absolute in all.
On my instructions he sit up ready obey all I say to him he, his eyes pop open a he stares at me mindlessly and I take aim beginning to construct his downfall by setting his mind up to fail.
His eyes lite up then grow dim following my voice as he walks to a door in a white room taking the knob and opening it up he walks in and begins to descend the staircase in to his oblivion.
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“It’s ok Ben! Relax”
“Keep counting”
“Don’t bother with anything else “
“No one else matters “
“I am all you hear and know “
“Imagine time rolling back”
“Your skin begins to peel”
“Pulling back “
“Unleashing skin”
“Time comes back “
“Till the shell it gone”
“You are at your core “
“Yes at my core “
“Listen to me carefully “
“YES!”
“You trust only me”
“Only you “
“I am always right”
“Put out your right hand”
“My hand touches yours”
“Grip it tightly “
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“I am imprinting on you “
“You can’t escape me”
“Mmmm…I can’t…escape you “
“Jay you need to let go “
“You need to release “
“You succumb to me”
“My words are intoxicating “
“I won’t hurt you “
“I won’t lead your wrong “
“Let’s spin back in to time”
“When I kiss you your whole world will change “
“YES!”
“My lips will set you on fire and free”
“Kiss me”
“You will completely erase”
“Erase?”
“YES!”
“Oooohhhh…MY…GOD”
“Kiss me please “
“Master! I beg you “
“Shut up!”
“Mmmmmmm”
“Fuck!”
“Fucking Fuckity fuck”
“Yyyyuuuummmm”
“Oh Master!”
“I love you “
“Who are you ?”
“Whoever! You want me to be”
“Good boi”
“Who am I?”
“My slave Jay”
“Oh yeah!”
“You are my property “
“Sir Yes Sir”
“You do as I say”
“No questions asked air”
“Good boi”
“Mmmmmm”
“Fuck!”
“What?”
“I love you sir “
“What is your purpose?”
“To serve you”
“How boi?”
“As you like”
“Mind, body and soul”
“With everything I have”
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The end
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helloblobbyblobfish · 5 months
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day 8: Ray Gun
With such a prompt, I HAD to make a sci-fi setting. Still, quite proud of myself for the pul novel vibe I tried to give this story. Don't hesitate to give your commentary. =)
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Gor was locked inside the surprisingly cushy dungeons of the evil Mantrax’s fortress.
Finally, the tall, sun-kissed barbarian, wearing only a chest harness that made the man’s pectoral pop up and a leather protection over his crotch. The warlord held a strange weapon in his hands. It looked like a fire-thrower, but with a crystal that was held inside a glass chamber.
“Ah, you wonder what this is.” The being of evil smiled, showing missing teeths and spreading the scar on the jaws that Gor had given his adversary during a previous skirmish. “It is only the way I amassed such a loyal army in so little time after my latest defeat, and how I will finally be rid of you! Even better, I will get to see you fighting at my side, happy to serve my slightest wish and following me like a dog! I will own you body and soul, Warrior of Civilization!”
Gor was thrashing against his chain: “You lie! No weapon could convince Gor to serve your evil purposes, Mantrax! Gor doesn’t know what you will do to fool your army into thinking you have me in your thrall, but nothing, NOTHING will make me fight against what I know is good!”
Mantrax showed his cruelest smirk. “We shall see, Gor, we shall see NOW!!!” And he activated his perfidious weapon, which shot a purple ray that hit Gor in the face, but did not break the skin, instead going directly through the Warrior of Civilization’s skull. The hard eyes of the warrior lost focus, and his pupils dilated, as all the muscles on his face loosened, giving Gor the aspect of a simpleton.
Mantrax grinned and spoke. “You are no stronger than the rest against this magnificent weapon I found amongst the remains of the before-doom location in that crevice you threw me in at the end of our last fight. It makes men and women’s minds pure clay for me to reshape as I want. And you are excited at the idea of being remodeled in my image, aren’t you, gor. You want to be my little pet, for me to tell you what is right or wrong, what you should care about. And call me Great Warlord Mantrax.”
Gor answered in a voice as empty as his eyes. “Yes, Great Warlock Mantrax…”
“Good. Now, here is the only thing that brings you pleasure. Suck it and do not care about your own arousal.” The diabolical Mantrax said while releasing his throbbing dick and putting it right in front of the helpless Gor’s face, while keeping the ray deep inside of the saviors of New New Australia’s mind, this time going through the lustrous hair of the Warrior of Civilization.
As the mindless prisoner started to give automatic licks to the organ entering his mouth, the malevolent Mantrax continued to spread his terrible words. “When you will come back to your senses, for lack of a better term, you will have realized that it was a fool’s errand to protect Queen Angelic all those years and will beg me to allow you to serve me in any capacity. You will be overwhelmed with pride when I will make you my personal assassin and cockwarmer. Is that understood?”
The enthralled Gor was too dumbed out to stop his succion movement up and down the large phallus, so he made gargled noise of approval around the tick length instead. Seeing his mortal enemy in such a state brought joy to the evil Mantrax.
“You won’t ever think of your own needs. you will need, sleep and dump at my command, and not any time before. Is that understood?”
He couldn’t be sure, but the noises Gor made sounded a lot like “Yesh Geat Wulod Mantarck.” 
“Excellent. I can’t wait to see the betrayed faces of all your former companions, who are now your enemies you hate with a fiery passion, of course.”
“Yeah Gurgl Mast Manthrax.”
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