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#himbofication
jockbroski34 · 3 days
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The Bro Cap
Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.
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I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.
Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.
“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.
The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.
“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.
“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.
“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”
“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.
Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?
And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.
After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.
“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.
The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.
Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.
Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.
Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?
Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.
Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude
I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.
“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.
Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.
I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.
I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.
Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.
Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.
We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.
I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.
“Later, Moore.”
Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.
In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.
I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.
“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.
“Practice?”
“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”
“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”
“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.
As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.
My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.
No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.
Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.
Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?
I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.
“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.
“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…
“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”
“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.
“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?
“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”
As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.
“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.
“What hat?”
“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.
From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.
Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.
“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”
“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.
“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.
What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.
At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.
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fredwkong · 2 days
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What would happen if two best friends prank each other by sending the himbo maker?
Well, probably what would happen is that the two of you are gaming together when the screen pixelates, freezes, and then loads into a chatroom you’ve never seen before. You two might try to turn away or accuse each other, but before you can a message loads.
Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bros, why are you gaming when you should be getting ready to party?
Neither of you can think of an answer. It is getting pretty late, and you need to pregame. The two of you leave the TV on as you run around your dorm, fixing your hair and finding some cute outfits. Somehow, none of your clothes seem quite right, and you don’t have any booze in the fridge at all. You turn to the TV and see another message loading.
Himbo_mkr: Bros, it doesn’t matter what you wear when you’re buffed up.
That’s right! You fistbump, appreciating each other’s shredded physiques and masculine looks. Turns out, the perfect matching outfit was sitting on one of your beds the whole time, a pair of printed tank tops and loose jeans. It’s not like you’ll be wearing them for long anyway. Still, the lack of drinks is a problem. It’s hard to be confident or interesting to talk to without a bit of liquid courage, even when you're buff.
Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, who needs a personality when you’re both such pretty dumbasses. Just get people to buy you drinks, bros!
Riiiiight. You guys are such dummies, you needed someone to remind you that you’re so smoking hot anyone will talk to you and get you free drinks! Plus, it’s so obvious you come as a matching set, guys will be falling over themselves to take your dumb asses home. You don’t need to do anything but get smashed and kiss each other all night.
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Want to chat with the Himbo Maker? He loves to twist your words, so be careful what you're asking for.
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dumbass420bro · 10 days
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Nothing better than a pair of big juicy himbo tits, i’m telling you bro, you need to get a pair too.
-personal benji post-
with this bulk and pump, i keep giggling at how big my tits are getting. so fucking juicy bros. i luvvvvvvvvvvv himbo boobs, send me some pics of yours ;)
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angelcakegf · 9 months
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In the mood to brainwash a pretty boy and make him my perfect cute little boytoy bf hehe
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bukkitbrown · 10 months
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I feel like tumblr is the place that would best understand the sheer amount of gender euphoria jm experiencing in this cosplay lol
Traditional problems require creative solutions
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occamstfs · 26 days
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Road Raging
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Road rage induced Himbofication and Muscle Growth, hope y'all enjoy and Drive safe y'all! -Occam
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Peter has been waiting at this light for just shy of ten minutes. He wouldn’t normally mind but as he watches car after car blast past him only to merge back in ahead of him. After the fifth car does so he starts talking to himself just to prevent losing his cool. “It’s like no one knows how to drive! They all just think their time is more important than anyone else’s I bet.” 
The light turns red once more and he rolls his eyes as he prepares to sit through another cycle. He turns up the podcast he had been listening to distract himself from the peaking irritation as cars begin to pass through the intersection. He checks his rearview and scoffs seeing the man behind him playing on his phone as they sit in traffic. “God damnit, can we keep our eyes on the road? No wonder this city’s going to shit with assholes like him driving.” He stares daggers into his mirror and as soon as he finishes the man behind him looks up and smirks almost as if he knows he’s being observed.
Peter in turn flinches and blushes, returning his eyes to the traffic ahead as any responsible driver should. He suddenly hears a car blasting through the traffic in the left lane , scowling as he is sure this jerk is going to try and skip the line. Sure enough he slows to an idle crawl as he nears Peter’s position in line. The guy throws on his blinker to hop into line. Rage begins to grow in Peter’s chest as the car approaches inching further ahead of the traffic by the second.
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Peter averts his eyes from the road ahead to glare at the man who has wronged his fellow drivers, only to find himself intimidated by the specimen of man taking advantage of him. The car in front of him makes room for the approaching BMW and Peter, caught off guard, accidentally lets the titan of a man maneuver ahead of him in traffic. The man shoots Peter a smug smirk and a wink as he shifts his car into the gap in traffic, securely pushing himself ahead of him.
Meek man he may be, the rage in Peter’s small body overcomes him as this asshole edges in front. He’s not going to let every muscle-brained bro just ignore him. He was not going to let this alpha asshole push him around. He lays on his horn as hard as he can and shouts any obscenity that comes to mind at the man ahead of him. In response the man only keeps up his arrogant expression, as he clearly has come out on top. He laughs at Peter as he mimes a blown kiss back at his overcome foe.
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Peter screams loud enough that his voice even begins to grow hoarse as he continues to squirm in rage at the alpha man now squarely in front of him. He takes a quick breath and tries to calm down, suddenly shocked at letting himself act in such a vulgar manner. “God what is taking this light so fucking long.” He says to himself, not hearing that his voice has lowered in pitch. Easy enough to blame that on all the shouting anyway.
Peter continues to sit in his car in wait, trying not to let his anger at the man in front of him boil over again. He realizes that he’s now sitting in silence. Wasn’t he listening to something? He strains his mind trying to remember what he was occupying himself with not but a minute ago. Some NPR podcast starts playing through the static on his radio which for some reason starts to ignite his rage once more. Surely he’s not listening to that nerd-ass shit right? He slams his stereo a few times expecting it to just give in and play something else, it swiftly returns to static before his phone connects and starts playing the Eminem album he apparently had queued.
Suddenly the asshole behind him starts honking and Peter realizes the light has turned green. It’s unlike him to be so oblivious, not that it matters though since the douche in front of him hasn’t started going either. God the fuckers on the road these days. He flips off the man behind him for honking before returning his ire to the fucker in front of him. He starts to tailgate the BMW in his way, only leading the driver to glare at him, his eyes half-closed, dripping with dominance, demanding Peter’s submission.
Peter’s eyes glaze over as he makes direct eye contact, not even noticing as the light turns red once more, not even caring as he is to remain stuck in yet another cycle of traffic. His rage subsides as he stares at the man ahead of him, does he know this jerk? His rage completely gives way to confusion as he sits and struggles to even remember that he just blew up at the man in front of him. His stereo soothes him with music he feels deep in his chest should not be as nearly as comforting or familiar as it is.
He feels his arms briefly strain his shirt. Peter feels the sleeves stretch and nearly tear before they quickly dissolve leaving them still-growing arms barren. He starts subconsciously rapping alongside Slim, feeling confidence grow in his chest as the droll life of quiet irritation that he knows begins to feel unfamiliar. His arms and chest begin to pump up as he bops in his seat to the music. He feels his pecs quickly strain his shirt before it expands to fit them, the neckline dropping to allow everyone a view of his hard-earned pecs.
Pete feels the AC graze his now exposed chest and is taken aback, he breaks his gaze with the bro ahead of him and is overcome with shock at his body. He jumps as he sees how powerful his arms have become, triggering his seatbelt to force him back into his seat, squeezing his now shockingly powerful chest. He whispers to himself as his voice deepens even more, “this can’t be right, I’m I’ve..” The music rises in volume trying to edge out any remaining thoughts of defiance. He feels the music reverberate through his chest, pumping it larger still, asserting that he is powerful. He once more makes eye contact with the man ahead of him and recognizes, oh, that’s his bro yeah! He then turns his mind back to his body as he finds yet another aspect of his transformation, his car is beginning to smell as if it were a locker room as he begins to just pour out sweat.
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Pete turns the AC even higher which only spreads his musk even more through the cabin. It almost immediately fills the whole of the car, as if he’s been using it as storage for dirty gym clothes for weeks. He blushes to himself as he wonders if this actually is the case. He desperately wants to question if he could possibly go to the gym enough for that to be a problem before he stares at his growing arm and flexes it. Bro all this time has been paying off huh. Pete smiles to himself as he basks in his own power.
The light turns green once more but this time the cross traffic has totally blocked his lane's ability to go. Further ahead of Pete and his bro a crowd of cars honk as are once more impeded. Pete feels like he too should be bothered by this but can’t find it within himself to care all that much. He continues flexing in his seat as he feels his jaw squaring out and his bulge start to fill out his pants. He sniffs his pits as he tries to remember if he’s headed to the gym or on the way back from it, guffawing to himself as he realizes he forgot deodorant today. Not that he minds though, the gym smells rank anyway, might as well smell like him.
Excited at the idea of going to the gym once more Pete is suddenly preoccupied with the idea of getting there faster. His bro in front of him flexes back at him and smirks, almost in encouragement. Pete sees him mouth the words “race ya” and winks once more. Pete’s entire body tenses up and he discards his tank, tossing it in a pile of other sweat-stained shirts in his back seat. He’s gotta beat his bro to the gym.
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He feels a cap shape itself around his head as his hair shrinks into a short crew cut. Pete is far too gone to notice though, bathing in his own scent and compulsively flexing as he tries to brainstorm a way ahead of his bro. Slow as his mind now goes he guffaws once more as he lands on the perfect idea. He’ll just skip the line huhuh. Pete swerves out of the line he has been impatiently waiting in all this time and shoots past his bro who raises his chin at the challenge.
Possessed with self-superiority, Pete scans the line ahead looking for some meek nerd or hungry twink to let him in. Not too far ahead he sees a tired man glare at him through sunglasses, not knowing it is a reflection of a face he once had. Pete sneers at him, his smile perfect and white as if carved from marble. He raises his arm behind his head, briefly struggling to stretch the muscle justly. The other driver recoils in disdain at the sheer audacity of Pete forcing his car in front of him. He continues to stare as Pete continues to demand entry ahead. The glaring man who has never even done so much as curse under his breath at other drivers begins to feel a rage grow in his chest, a rage that Pete is all-too-eager to encourage. Won’t last too long anyway, just a little stepping stone to having another bro.
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thefunkfactory · 28 days
Text
The Fog
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Felix knew he shouldn’t go outside, it wasn’t safe. All the news stations in the area were constantly broadcasting that a fog has swept into the valley and since it appeared four days ago people have been going missing. The rumor is that there are monsters in the fog, people can hear groans and grunts out in the fog but anyone who has gone to explore where they are coming from has been consumed by the fog and hasn’t come back out. The weirdest thing of all is that the fog is green, its a light green color that has a lingering stench which has been slowly filling the house Felix is holding up in. Felix was with his girlfriend at her place when the fog came through, he was going to just head home after it cleared but it has been days and it hasn’t let up. At one point Felix was just going to walk home, given that he lived only a twenty minute walk from her place, but when he opened the door the fog started to rush in and fill the foyer with a rancid smell. Quickly closing the door he moved away from the stench, but that was two days ago and he needs to go take care of his cat, his roomate normally does when he isn’t home but with people going missing he can't be sure that anyone is there to watch Mittens. His girlfriend pleaded with him not to go out but Felix gathered all his stuff anyways. To make her feel better, and truthfully to make him feel a bit better, he went and found a face mask in her bathroom. Now ready to go he headed over to his place promising to return, he would come back with some food and water, and Mittens, if all goes off without a hitch.
During the walk which felt like it took forever, as he wandered through the thick green fog that limited his vision to just a foot or two in front of him, Felix could constantly hear the groaning and grunts that the news stations mentioned. They were accompanied with sounds of metal clanging and what sounded like deep, dull laughter. Luckily the entire journey was uninterrupted, Felix made it to his apartment in perfect condition. Coming up to the lobby of the building Felix could see that the glass doors were smashed and the fog filled the common area. Worrying for his furry friend he hurried over the shattered glass on the floor and through the lobby to the stairwell, not wanting to take a chance with the elevator. Walking through the lobby he heard it again, a low, guttural groan that sounded closer than all the others he heard on the way over. Looking around fearfully, he saw a huge monstrous sized man stretched out on the floor stirring in his sleep. Hastening his step Felix made it to the stairwell and rushed up the stairs to the fourth floor.
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Coming upon his fourth floor apartment he was struck with a sense on confusion as he went to unlock the door to find it was left a little ajar. Quietly going inside, he sees the kitchen is much messier than normal, there are clothes all over the floor, and half the shoes on the shoe rack are at least a size 13. Searching around for his cat and trying to make as little noise as possible he comes up to his roommate's closed door, about to open it without thinking he looks down quickly and sees wisps of the smoke coming out of the room. Not wanting to reenter the fog, Fleix leaves the door closed and heads to the bathroom to continue the search. As he searches high and low in the bathroom, unbeknownst to him, the roommate’s door opens and Felix’s roommate comes out to find the source of the noise that is disturbing his nap. “What are you doing in my apartment pipsqueak?” Felix hears from behind him, “Andy! Thank god you're here! I can't find Mittens anywhere!” Felix says, turning around as he mentions Mittens. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Felix blurts out having turned around and been met with a huge hunk who is big enough to look like he could have eaten his roommate and smells like he just farted his roommate back out…
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“Broooooooo” Andy groans “Who are you? This isn’t your place mannnnn. And why are you looking for Mittens? Mittens is my boyfriend's cat.”, “This IS my place and you don’t live here! I think you are in the wrong place!” Felix says scared to death of the huge stranger just a few feet away. “Huhuhuh you sound just like my roommate bro, you kinda look like him too, just…ya know he is more like me” Andy tells him, completely ignoring what he just said. “Eh whatever” Andy shrugs, “I think it’s time for you to go” Andy starts moving forward and reaches out to Felix. Felix tries to duck from the outstretched hand but his lithe movement doesn’t best the giant’s brute force, grabbing Felix by the shoulder Andy pulls Felix away and out of the bathroom and starts towards the door. Being pulled closer to the hunk Felix catches more than just a whiff of his funk. Between gags Felix pleads “PLEASE! PLEASE! NO THIS IS MY APARTMENT I NEED TO FIND MY CAT!” feeling pity on the weakling he is holding Andy bestows mercy upon Felix. “Uhhh okay sure you can look for your dumb cat but I'm gonna just stay here and watch.” Andy says audibly annoyed. Without saying a word he began looking around again for Mittens hoping he can find her before this reeking giant behind him loses his patience. After about ten minutes of looking, the entire time he can hear the hunk constantly fiddling around, making sounds of annoyance, and chuckling every time he belches out a blast of bad breath. Felix finally ends up in his roommate's bedroom, being the last place to look.
As Felix searches around in the blinding fog he finds the source of it, Andy left his window open and the fog has just been filling the room for days now. Mittens probably got out through the window. He starts to worry he wont find his cat. Felix hears the hunk clear his throat and say to himself “I'm bored, I want my boyfriend.” Felix feels his large sweaty hand grab the nape of his neck once more and before Felix can say a word he lifts Felix up and rips the mask off of him. “NO I NEED THA-“ Buh-UUUuuuuurpppp
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The hunk belches right into Felix’s open mouth. Being completely caught off guard by this show of masculine power, he gasps in suddenly filling his lungs with the dense, stinking fog and the giants horrid breath. Immediately having a violent coughing fit from the unnatural scent that has just penetrated into his body, the giant drops the scrawny bro to the floor. Felix can't help but inhale more fog as he tries to stop the coughing, as the fog fills more of his lungs it slowly also begins to fill the rest of his body. It fills his feet enlarging them so that they’re able to hold up a mass of muscle like the one who has just subjected him to this torture, his legs grow massive and muscley as his ass begins to inflate along side his legs. Felix’s hole begins to loosen up and his cheeks grow in respectable, hairless, beach balls that lightly clap behind him with every step. In the front a transformation was also occurring, changing Felix’s long. cut skinny-boy-dick into a shorter but chubbier uncut, cheesy, schlong. Felix’s tummy changes just a little, turning from a tough four pack into a soft tummy perfect for filling up from behind or resting your head on after a sensual “exercise” session. Felix tried to grab his stomach as it changed, as if that would stop the transformation. As Felix clutched his stomach his chest began to inflate into soft pecs more akin to pillows than true pectorals. And his arms followed suit, expanding into fatty tissue more than muscled mounds, soft and pliable muscles that are still capable of lifting up boulders. Felix felt a wild itching sensation in both of his armpits at the same time, as he moved one of his small hands to hopefully cease the itching he was met with a forest of hair invading his once always shaven pits. Shocked by this he ripped his hand away for just a second. Immediately his hands, much like his feet enlarged, his fingers fattened up and expanded and his palms became hugely swollen compared to his previously dainty hands. Felix felt his coughing die down and thinking he would finally be able to catch his breath was again caught off guard by another coughing attack. All while this is happening, standing above the himbofying Felix is the hunk that started the transformation, watching silently and groping his own cheesy, unwashed dick. Felix in the grasps of his second coughing fit heard his nose crack and felt it shift into a new form, changing from a longer nose with a more rounded end into a shorter, flatter nose, perfect for sticking it into an unwashed armpit or smelly crotch. He felt his eyes become slimmer and his eyebrows grow more hair than ever, and he felt as his mouth transformed into a perfect set of teeth holding back a large thick tongue perfectly for cleaning the funk off of someone’s feet. Keeping the newly minted tongue and teeth hidden was a pair of lips inflating into the best dick sucking lips ever. Felix could feel his sharp, cut jaw expand into a squarer and softer jawline that melted into his ever growing neck that needed to match the intake his plump lips would now be inviting. The last change was his hair as it turned from cute light brown curls into a mop of dark brown hair that crowned Felix’s perfect himbo body.
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Felix, unable to escape the coughing fit, felt a throbbing in his head as he continued to writhe around on the floor of the fog-filled bedroom. His giant hands moved to grasp his big manly head. The fog had finally begun melting away his brain. Seeing this happen the hunk hovering above him got between Felix’s thunder thighs and unbuttoned Felix’s khakis, suctioning his mouth onto Felix's unwashed himbo dick, the giant began to suck which alleviated Felix’s throbbing headache. For a second the thought came across Felix’s mind that this stranger shouldn’t be sucking him off like this, but just as quickly as the thought came to him, he felt it sucked down and out of his brain. He felt this happening for all the thoughts he kept having about what was happening to him, but all of them kept disappearing until Felix simply stopped thinking and let blissful stupidity take over his mind. Soon the stupidity began to encroach onto pre-existing knowledge, Felix’s knowledge of advanced mathematical formulas got sucked into his sack and replaced with knowledge of how to douche and knowledge of physics melted down into cum and instead was replaced with knowledge of how to move his ass and hips to make his bros cum quicker. Soon not a single intelligent thought would be left behind, all replaced with dumb, gay thoughts making Felix the perfect fucktoy. The last thought Felix would have was “Why do I know so much gay stuffffff…Does my girlfriend like this?” Before he could even comprehend an answer his memories would start to dissolve into his sticky white seed. His years spent taking advanced courses in school turned into every summer being spent in summer school, him taking his girlfriend’s virginity became his ass being filled for the first time by his boyfriend Andy, and the years spent training to try and be a D1 Soccer player turned into wrestling other sweaty guys for hours every day. Soon just like his thoughts and knowledge every memory would be lost to the sticky sea in his balls. As the pressure in his brain built to its peak Felix felt his hips begin to buck into his boyfriend’s mouth, soon all that was Felix before he was himbofied was churning in his balls and then shot into the smelly hunk sucking on his dick, his once bright brown eyes fading like his brain into a dim, dull brown. With that the dazed himbo lays on the floor catching his breath. Getting up first Andy reches down and grabs Felix’s hand lifting him up, and in one swift motion lifts Felix’s arm into the air revealing his armpit. Leaning in for a sniff Andy forces his nose right into the forest of dark hair. Only catching a whiff of cheap AXE body spray, Andy pushes his boyfriend back onto his ass and pulls his own sweatpants down revealing his ass. “Wha-?” PFFFFBBBBTTTTT Felix starts to say as he is met with a direct hit to the face with a potent stream of gas. Becoming super dazed Felix barely knows what just happened as he is hit with another, this time wetter blast BWOMPPFFFFF. Having his hair pushed back Felix feels the stench cover his entire body, assisted by the fog and ass blast Felix finishes the last part of his himbofication. Felix’s large feet are incapable of wafting off any scent other than the buttery funk that has corrupted all of his shoes and the scent of the apartment. The gas going into Felix’s body through his mouth and nose reaches Felix’s gut giving it the ability to release butt blasts and malodorous burps. His armpits fill in with the purest himbo-stink, which quite literally contributes to the fog's green hue and absolutely rotten scent.
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“Heh-Heh! Babe your butt stinks something awfullll” Felix dully says. Pulling up Felix once more Andy smells Felix’s armpit and grimaces and then dim-witted laughter burst out “Huhuhuhuhuh! You smell worse than my farts on a good day right now babe!” Andy kisses Felix and lets out a little burp into his mouth as he does so. “Huhuh. We really should help spread the fog to some un-himbofied weaklings around town.” Andy whispered to Felix. Thinking hard for a second, it slowly comes to Felix, the address he just came from is floating around in his brain, “Huhuh, just follow me babe, I know a place” Felix says to Andy. They both leave the bedroom and go grab their shoes on the shoe rack, now all the shoes are a comically large size and all reek of movie theater butter and a teenager boy’s feet that haven’t been washed in months. Slipping on the shoes without socks to maximize their stink Felix leads the way out of the apartment.
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idesofrevolution · 4 months
Text
Father
Dad had been acting strange for quite some time. Honestly, it wasn't that noticeable in the beginning, which I suppose made it difficult to pinpoint when things started to change. I only started to notice maybe seven months or so ago after he turned down the daily Budweiser. Patrick O'Shaughnessy turning down his biggest vice? I knew something was off right then and there as he sat there, smiling at me from his armchair with the game on in the background: red flag number two, my stepfather had NEVER been a sports guy. Binging Fox News while fingering pudding cups, sure; but actually knowing what was happening in a football game?
I'd originally thought he'd perhaps found a side girl to cheat on my mom with. It was far from outside of his character to do something like that, if he'd ever be able to get his nasty ass out of the recliner for ten fucking minutes... He'd gotten too comfortable in his laziness. When my mom married him a year ago, he was already a piece of shit lardass who refused to do a single thing around the house, refused to work a normal job (he was waiting for a management position apparently), and above all refused to acknowledge me whatsoever. He was rude, crass, could never even so much as break a smile at me. And there, in that moment as his eyes made contact with mine and his lips curled into a smile, I knew something was wrong.
"What, no beer burps for me today?" I scowled at him, raising my eyebrow in a malicious curiosity.
"Nahh little man, I'm trying to cut down." Little man? He'd never gotten my name right let alone given me a nickname... We did not have that kind of relationship, at least one that would have an affectionate nickname for one another. "Say, I'm hittin' the gym in a couple minutes. Whaddya say you come along?"
"You're... you're going to the gym? Really?" I sat there slackjawed. Something was indeed off. What it was, I couldn't exactly tell. Nothing outside of his UberEats order would ever get Patrick out of the chair. He laughed at me, gripping his sizeable paunch beneath his stained tee shirt.
"You bet, bud. High time I set an example for my boy. How's he gonna respect a couch potato loser? You should come along. Nothin' like a father and son spending time together, especially in the gym. Get the boys lookin', right?" He stood up from his chair, grabbing his keys off the kitchen countertop as he headed toward his car. I, on the other hand, stood there with tunnel vision. Patrick was not the most supportive parent when it came to... well, anything. But the biggest bone of contention was me coming out to them last year. It was the biggest hullabaloo, Oscar worthy. Thrown glasses, flipped chairs, disownment, threats of eviction... the only thing that kept me in the house was my mother putting her foot down. It wasn't a big deal for her, but for him... I was the biggest embarrassment on the planet. What would Tucker Carlson think?
Yet as I stood there, staring at the cigarette-stained wall, my brain couldn't process what I'd just heard. 'Get the boys lookin' he said... As if he were trying to play wing man for me... What the fuck was happening? My heart fluttered the moment his words sank in, that was pride. It was something neither my father nor my stepdad ever had the courtesy of giving me. My walls were up, and I was beyond skeptical, so for my own peace of mind I had decided then and there to investigate.
From that day on, the moment I came home from school, I was spying. While most of my friends were trying to enjoy their senior year, going to parties or getting ready for college, I was at home peering behind corners at my stepfather. Over the first few months I watched with complete disbelief at the changes. Every single day, I'd come home, and he'd be on his way out to the gym. The normal scowl he'd gift me upon my entry was replaced with jovial smiles and hair ruffling as he schlepped his gym bag over his shoulder out the door. He'd be gone for two or three hours at least, and come home just before dinner dripping in buckets of sweat. I'd begun to avoid driving his car, as the stink of his sweat had completely inundated the fabric of the seats. He'd toss his bag on the floor by my book bag (gross), and plop down at the dinner table where he would ask genuinely about my day or sweetly flirt with my mom while winking at me. I still wasn't convinced. He kept asking me nearly every day if I'd come to the gym with him, if we could go shoot hoops at the park across the street, or if I'd play FIFA with him. Each time I'd shoot him down, he'd have a momentary break in that happy facade of his, as if it were hurting him I wasn't spending time with him.
Within five months or so, he was nearly unrecognizable. I guess protein shakes & a low carb diet really works on a guy: he'd lost nearly 70 pounds and gained about 20 in muscle alone. He'd struck up friendships with my school's wrestling coach and a couple of the neighbors, and we were finding ourselves invited to barbecues and block parties for the first time. I had to endure little hallway chats with Coach Weston about joining the wrestling team, as he was in talks with the school district about bringing my stepdad on as assistant coach. It was bizarre to me for many reasons, but one stood out above all: Patrick was never a wrestler. Not in college, not in high school, my mom even confirmed it one night at dinner. He'd brush it off as if it were something fun he were doing with 'Dane', which in and of itself was weird to hear the coach's first name used at all at home.
Sleep was getting difficult. My mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, but now he and mom had begun to fuck like rabbits. Loud, hard sex almost every other night with their bed slamming against my bedroom wall for hours. Mom of course was radiant at that point. The years of one piece of shit husband being a complete and total asshole, replaced by another piece of shit husband treating her like garbage melted away in the course of a couple of months of Patrick being a strangely brilliant partner. He'd started to cook us meals, he'd started to do the yardwork, he'd even fixed things around the house that had been broken for years. Sure, the sex seemed to help, but as she would say: "He's lessened my load so much, Jonas. I wish you'd give him a chance."
Sure, he was treating my mom well and that was a good enough reason for me to like him. Was it enough to trust him? No. I'd still turn down every single request to spend time alone with him. No gym. No basketball court. No gaming. Though, in one single concession for my mom's sake, I begrudgingly agreed to let him drive me to school in the morning. That one decision is what truly changed my life forever. I went to bed that night, putting on my earbuds to drown out their disgusting sex in the next room, less than eager for the fifteen minute drive the next day.
Thus, on that warm April day, my morning began as normal. Shower, dress, drink my morning smoothie, grab my bag, and walk out the door. It wasn't long before I was greeted by his chipper, dim witted voice shattering my peaceful morning.
"Ayy little man!" I sighed, turning toward the garage, where there he stood: shirtless and dripping sweat from his chiseled body. As a gay guy, I have to admit, it was hard not to stare. He had become quite a sight to behold. The other moms in the neighborhood certainly would sit and stare at him on his morning runs, even a couple of the dads as well, and now I sat there oogling the ripped, gleaming body he'd built.
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"Hey, Patrick. Do you need to shower? I have to get going, but I can catch the bus if there's not enough time?" In my head, I was praying to God that he'd just hop in the shower he never seemed to take and I could go on my merry way. Though, no such luck.
"Nah, man! It's all good. I promised you I'd take you to school, so hop in the car!" I sighed, turning to his 1998 Mustang with a shiver cascading down my spine.
"Sure, Patrick." I dragged my feet headed toward his car. Opening the door, the humid, musky air within poured out of the car, punching me in the face with his scent. Imagine a noxious waft of butter, blue cheese, saltwater, and feet just drowning you. That was the stink that swamped his car, and him for that matter. I took one final breath of fresh air before I sat in the car and closed the door. He wasn't far behind, not even bothering to put a shirt on as he hopped in beside me.
"Alright! Let's get goin' bud!" He turned the key and the car roared to life. I sighed, thankful it was only fifteen minutes. As we pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, I turned on the radio, hoping to dissuade him from making some puerile small talk. We sat there in silence for a moment, before hitting the main road. "You know what, bud?" He turned to me, looking me up and down before rolling up the windows and turning off the radio. "Ahhh fuck it. We're playing hooky today."
"Wait, what?" I had no time to protest, before he turned onto the main road, but in the opposite direction from the school. "Patrick, I'm not playing hooky. I have to go to school." He laughed, ruffling my hair yet again.
"You gotta stop callin' me Patrick, Jonas. I don't have to be dad if you don't want, but Patrick is so... not me. Just call me Pat."
"Okay, PAT. I'm going to school." He turned to me, and his smile faded, letting out a solid sigh that would put mine to shame. He pulled over onto the shoulder, and put the car in park.
"Listen. I know you don't like me. I know you don't trust me, and I get it. I made a lot of changes to him very quickly, and it's hard to keep up." Him? Why did he say it like that? "I'd been watching you just suffer endlessly for years, man. All the time. I just wanted you to have a good role model for once. A man you could lean on, and not some shitty lard who talks bad to ya."
"What the fuck are you on about?" My patience had worn too thin for my calm veneer to bear. He turned the key, and the engine quickly died.
"C'mon bro. You know something's different about him, right? I know you've been watchin' me like a hawk. Think I haven't noticed you watchin' me from around the hall corner? You think I don't know you're creepin' while I beat one out huffin' my strap? I know, dude. I've always known. C'mon, man." Pat threw his hands in the air in frustration, the first time since his attitude adjustment that I'd seen anything like it. But, this was different. It wasn't rage, it was exasperation.
"Okay, Pat. So you saw me watching you. Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on now?" He slowly rested his sweaty head against the headrest, and sighed. Then, a chuckle. Then another, until he was full on laughing. "What!?"
"Ahhh, man. I never thought I'd see the day you'd man up and come to. Yeah, Jonas. I can tell you what the fuck is going on." I sat back, confounded- even more so than before. "My name was Matt Wilde. Way back in the day, I used to wrestle for Palm Heights High. Was pretty damn good at it too, but one day I got pinned just a little too hard and poof."
"Matt Laurent? What the fuck are you talking about, Pat? Are you high?" His dumb laugh threw him back in the seat.
"Nah, I finished that joint earlier, man. Stone sober now. But, safe to say for the past 50 years I've been just hoppin' body to body. Started with a couple of my teammates just so I could finish out the years, wrestle a bit more. Got bored, hung around the gym, in and out of some lug heads. Did a stint in some Libertines, that was fun as fuck. But man, I saw you sulkin' around the school for the past three years and thought, damn that kid looks sad. So, I may have eavesdropped a bit, maybe caught a bit about your dead beat, piece of shit dad; then right after he ditches, Mom lands this fuckin' winner." He slapped his chest, little droplets of his sweat landing on my bewildered face. "Oh shit, my bad." I sat there, slackjawed, completely disoriented as he dumbly wiped his sweat off my nose and cheek.
"You... you're dead?" He snapped his fingers, winking and smirking at me.
"Bingo, bud. Right on the money. I was like, I'm in a very unique situation here to fuckin' do something this. So, I slipped into this dumbass and just stuck around. Did the work. Tried, emphasis on TRIED, to be like the Dad I had and that you deserve, ya know? Haven't made it fuckin' easy, but... ahhh. That's parenthood, am I right?" I scoffed, he must have taken some damn good drugs. I was convinced. There was no way!
"Okay, then. MATT. So, if you're some dead jock bro possessing Pat, where the fuck is he?" He pondered for a moment in silence, shrugging his shoulders.
"I think he's gone, bro. I haven't stayed in a dude this long, I used to hear him bitchin' and moanin' all the time, but he went silent a couple of weeks ago." Fuck, I wish that were true. I had to admit, even if only in my mind, this Matt-Patrick was lightyears better than Patrick Patrick. Sure, he was dumb, he was every stereotype dudebro in the book, he smelled like he bathed in sweat baths... But, for the first time in my life, he wanted to be around me. He wanted to spend time with me. He made an effort. He... liked me. The mental gymnastics needed to make sense of the situation was growing too monumental to comprehend, but in that moment as he sat there with his dumb fucking grin on his face as if I was going to just completely buy it, I started to hope it was true.
"So, what now, Matt? Are you just gonna keep fucking my mom and prentending to be my Dad for the rest of your life? Or are you gonna hop out and ditch us?" He raised his eyebrow in genuine confusion.
"I mean, yeah that was the plan. One, your mom is fuckin' hot and she's better than any girl I've ever been with. Two, I kinda like our little family. Three, I ain't ditchin' ya, bro. You had enough of that shit for one lifetime. Besides, I gotta get you to chill the fuck out one way or another, so I was hoping we could give it a shot. Like I've been beggin' man." 'Matt' put his hands together as if praying, pleading to me. I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing. It's better than coming home every day to spy on him, and it's way better than being the sad wallflower all the fucking time. Besides, those dumb fucking puppy dog eyes...
"You know what? Sure, Matt. What did you have in mind?" I could barely finish my sentence before he'd twisted the key and slammed on the gas. The man drove like a bat out of hell through town, hooting and hollering in victory as if he'd won a match.
"Hell fuckin' yeah, man! Dude we're gonna be so tight, it's gonna be awesome. You're gonna be so fuckin' sexy, the dudes are gonna be on their knees by the time we're done! Slobberin' on that dick like SLURPEDY SLURP! WOO!" So fuckin' dumb. Dumb as a box of rocks. But I couldn't help but crack a smile as he swerved left and right, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Let's get you sweatin' man. We can get you pumpin' iron, playin' ball... I'm burning everything you got in your closet, bro. Nobody wants polos and button ups, man. Gettin' you some J's, some good jocks. Oh, how do you feel about chains?"
"Matt, dude. I'm not like you. That's all well and good for you, but I can't pull that shit off..." He slammed on the brakes and a cavalcade of horns from behind us rang out like a brass band. Matt whipped his gaze to me in shock.
"Don't say that, bro! You could be a bona fide stud! Look at you, man!" A couple of hard slaps against my bony chest and a harsh wheeze later, perhaps it sank in a bit. "Aight, well we have some work to do. I mean, if you're up for it." He smirked at me, lifting up those massive arms and flexing. His veins bulged from his massive bicep, the wet hairs in his ripe pits wafted that pungent scent I'd regrettably started to secretly love... Yeah, maybe I did want it.
"I don't know how, man. If I were like you, I bet I could." As if a cartoon lightbulb flickered to life above his head, I saw the spark of inspiration hit him like a sack of bricks. That stupid smirk grew into a wide, toothy grin.
"Aight, bro. Haven't tried this before, but I'll give it a go." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them gently. "I saw Jimmy Morales do this once when he needed a spotter. Gotta ask, though. You trust me, right?" I sat there and wondered if I did. I'd pretended up until this point that I believed every word that had come out of his mouth. This insane, psychotic story. It was nuts. It was crazy. But that little voice in the back of my head, deep down in the dark recesses of my brain decided to finally speak up.
"Yeah, Matt. I trust you."
"ALRIGHT! Fuck yeah, man. Oh shit, this is gonna be great! Okay, so don't freak out, just trust me and let it happen, okay? It doesn't hurt, the dudes usually bust a nut after it's all over." I heard a squelching rumble from in his stomach: wet, guttural, as if he were getting ready to vomit. Which became more and more likely as I saw a lump start to make it's way up his throat.
"Matt..." His body began to shudder and quake, his veins bulging and head thrashing from side to side. Then, from between his lips, a glowing blue vapor began to slip out. It was tiny at first, a little tail whipping about, before more and more of it started to bellow out of his mouth. Slick, bulbous, translucent. I had mere seconds of watching it slither out before it darted right into my own slack jaw. It squirmed as it wriggled from his body into mine, slurping deep into my bulging stomach. The feeling of fullness overtook me, watching more and more of the rubbery thing enter me, squeezing into every available inch within me, and he was right: it felt good. It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was just moments. The last of suctioned into me, and the world went black.
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I woke the next morning in my bed. Shooting straight upright in a puddle of sweat. I rubbed my hands on my face, running my fingers through my drenched hair. What a fuckin' dream. I groaned as doubled over in pain. I felt like I was hit by a train. Everything hurt, a soreness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before radiated from every fiber of my being. Then, a soft caress of the nostril. Salty, buttery, funky... I raised my arm, finding the culprit immediately.
"Fuck!" I spat out, before taking a deep breath, another hit. "Fuuuuck..." Another inhale, a familiar stink, a comforting stink. What started as gentle whiffs quickly turned into full on huffing. I buried my nose in my pit, letting the wet jungle lather my face in my own sweat.
"Morning, bro. Good shit, ain't it?" The words echoed in my head, a soft, rippling little voice from within my brain. I should have been alarmed, terrified, even. But no, the words felt like gospel to me. "We really went to town yesterday, man. I had you liftin' like an Olympian. Take it easy. Here, I'll be right there, I got just the thing for it!" My hands started to drift southward, beneath the waistband of the teal sweats I didn't own... Were they... Pats? The door to my room burst open mid-huff, and in walked the hulking tower himself with a tray in hand.
"Goooood Morning, Kiddo! I made ya a protein shake, good recovery breakfast after a workout sesh like we had! Oh, your Mom made eggs!" He walked over to the side of my bed, kicking the Jordans I'd borrowed from him to the side. Wait, when did I do that? "Eat up, champ. Those 'ceps aren't gonna feed themselves!" Slamming the tray down onto my thighs, I let out a groan of pain.
"Pat? Dude, I had the weirdest dream." Dude? I never say dude. I cupped my hand, slick with sweat and pre over my mouth, aghast at the words coming out of my mouth. Pat smiled, grabbing the shake and handing it to me. "Drink up, my dude. For real, you're gonna be in a world of hurt otherwise." The voice boomed in my head, HIS voice. But his lips hadn't moved an inch. "Pat..." I ripped the sheets off of me, sure enough, I was sporting his nasty sweatpants & drenched socks. Cupping my manhood was most definitely his grimy jockstrap. "Hey, if we were gonna have the best workout, I had to be comfortable, bro! I knew you'd get it, though." I looked at him, a tight lipped smile, as if he were proving to me he weren't talking to me. "Feels good, right! I told ya! Just think, bro. With a half of me in there, you're gonna be unstoppable." I smiled. A genuine fuckin' smile, for the first time in as long as I could remember. I watched as my hand gripped the shake, bringing it to my lips of it's own accord. Downing the vanilla shake, our eyes met, and I understood completely. Matt winked at me, ruffling my hair, and sauntered back out of the door.
I leaned back in my bed, throwing my arm behind my head. The musk drifting from my pits and feet, identical to my dad's. Smirking, I let my fingers drift down to my growing meat in its slimy pouch, knowing fully well that I was in damn fine hands.
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So that brings us to today, I guess! One year to the day. One full year since I finally let Dad in. 'Pat' sure did join the wrestling team as assistant coach, bringing his son in tow, eager to finish my senior year with at least a title. Thanks to him, I made varsity after the first fuckin' tryout. Can't say it was all me, all the time, but after a while it was. Honestly, it all started to blend together. Me at the wheel, him at the wheel, soon it sort of blurred and it was just me. That last semester was the best of my whole fucking life. Parties, bodybuilding, skating with the boys, fuckin' the boys... Shit, it was the time of my fuckin' life.
And after every day at school, or at least after every post-practice locker room blow job, I couldn't wait to get home and smash some Call of Duty with the old man. Mom would always come in, making comments on how we seemed as if I'd become a mini-Pat. Finishing eachother's sentences, drinking the same beer, wearing the same kind of clothes... she'd always put our sneaks outside the garage door, "they even stank the same." Little did she know just how much of the same person we really were.
I've decided to stick around the house for a year or so before maybe headed to college. I don't know, family is here, friends are here, Coach Weston should be retiring in a year or two... so there should be an opening for a new assistant coach on the wrestling team. Besides, I may have landed quite the catch in the boyfriend department, and I really want him to meet my dad, I have a feeling they'll get along just fine.
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magnusdixon · 26 days
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Do I need to wear more than this?
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fredwkong · 10 months
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Fucked Silly
You didn’t think much of what he’d said at first. He was just a Grindr hookup, and tops will say literally anything. The message didn’t even crack the top 5 weirdest things you’d been sent. But still:
“Gonna see you fucked silly.”
It was so specific. Okay, maybe you looked like a bit of a dummy, with your sturdy muscles and habitual smile. But you were getting a doctorate! There was nothing silly about a PhD in Historiography.
“Gonna see you fucked silly.”
You looked at the message one last time as you waited rang for him to unlock the door of his building. You rolled your eyes. Bullshit tops.
But as his fat cock penetrated your hole, you started to feel weird. Your thoughts started to slow down and drift away. “What’s… happening?” you groaned as he bottomed out.
“You’re getting fucked silly, like all the other guys I top,” the top told you, and shifted inside you. You felt his cock rub up against your prostate and some of your thoughts popped like shiny, glittery soap bubbles.
“Noooo,” you moaned, shocked at how slutty your voice sounded. “I don’t wanna be a silly boyyyy.” You were smart, right? You were getting a Historo— Histrio— His— a big degree!
“Yeah, you do,” said the top, starting to fuck you harder. “You wanna be a silly bottom boi with big juicy muscles.”
“I’m moooore than a joocy muscle boiiiii,” you moaned, caught between bliss and horror as your whole body lit up from the fucking. More and more of your thoughts, memories, and knowledge slipped out of your grasp and vanished as he kept on fucking. You tried to hold onto things like your high school math class and your favourite show, but they vanished so fast you forgot you’d ever known them.
You felt your brain getting lighter and lighter as everything inside it dissolved and went away. As the top’s rhythm broke down with approaching orgasm, you moaned wantonly and fucked back into him, desperate for stimulation as the last of your smarts vanished.
The top came, and the sensation of him filling you up with his cum ripped away everything that you had left. You spurted all over the bed with an empty-headed groan. The sight of all the globs of cum on the sheets suddenly struck you as hilarious, and you started to laugh. “Huhuhuhu…”
The top pulled out. “Another happy customer,” he said, patting you on your broad back.
You twerked back at him, feeling empty. You flipped over and grinned up at him. “I wanna go dancingggg,” you whined in your new dumb, slutty voice. “Let’s go partyyyyy.” You were just a dumb, airheaded himbo with bouncy muscles and a goofy personality.
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You’d been fucked silly.
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dumbass420bro · 1 month
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I need a guy to call me his little bro
to make me wear backwards caps, tank tops and chains
to call me his dumbass meathead when i laugh at something stupid
to workout with me and feed me protein shakes
to call me his dumb himbo muscle slut as i suck his cock
to make me dumber and bigger
that’s the guy i want 💪💪💪
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coachs-locker-room · 12 days
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I've discovered recently that I am severely enthralled by my jock boyfriend's stench. His socks, underwear, shoes, everything. It's just so...alluring. Do you think you could help me embrace this newfound obsession further by making him an even stinkier thick sweaty bear for me to serve at his feet?
A good jockboy should be used to working up a sweat - but for what you need, he will require a little more than some gym motivation. With the right... recalibration, I am sure that your boyfriend's love for his own musk will not only match yours but, it bring the new dynamic to your relationship that you crave.
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After taking some of Coach's extra classes - complete with a new diet and protein shake supplement from MASS MONSTA - your jock boyfriend not only discovered his strength and bodymass had increased, but whenever he took a whiff of his sweat-dreanched self he became unable to resist the call of his musk.
Each day, getting more and more potent, the increased pheromones and testosterone kept mixing and coursing through his body. His increased mass and strength only adding to the sweat production.
You might have considered him more of a dominant personality before - at least compared to yourself - but after a week of his new routine, you saw first-hand what a beast he could become when he came back from the gym.
Once he grabbed you by the neck and pushed you into his ripe pit, smelling from the source, your mind would switch off entirely to follow his commands without question.
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Within the month, he became not only unrecognisable but truly irresistible. Both to you, to himself, and to anyone who got a hit of his powerful musk. The best part, of course, was that he had no need to shower off before he arrived home. After receiving his pictures, you'd be there, waiting for his return, ready to serve him - however he needed.
The routine became more and more intense - where finishing a workout, stripping out of his sweat-drenched kit and setting up the camera to send a progress picture would cause the whole locker room to stare with desire in their eyes. The alpha confidence was contagious to some and alluring to others, but you were always there on hand to make sure he got what he needed.
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Now - go and be a good boy and get on your knees.
You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?
If you enjoyed this tf, you can send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room
Post tf images: jimmyjim811 on X and OnlyFans
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avissapiens · 2 months
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Himbo New Year
Babes and beautiful bois, this is the year we glow up so beyond belief. There's no stopping it. January passed with the uggos failing out on their goals. We won't be the same. All we've gotta do is focus on us.
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Your goal for the year is...
Use the Halo effect
Pretty people get nice things because the world loves beauty and is willing to go above and beyond to ensure that the beautiful among us have it easier.
But you can never get what you don’t ask for. As you continue to ascend, emerging from the aesthetic cocoon as a fully gorgeous looksmaxxed butterfly slut, You’ll have to shed those old inhibitions and shame.
Sure as a 5 you’d be laughed at for thinking you could get above what you deserve. But as a gorgeous himbo 10, all it really takes is flashing that smile or those tits. Tossing that soft hair. Staring at them with your vacant eyes and watching them melt.
It won’t always work. But it’ll work more often than you think. The tight clothes confound and befuddle. People’s natural tendency to be lenient on the well put together and aesthetically pleasing. Maybe it starts as asking to be a couple bucks short when you’re buying from the local bakery. Being nice and sweet and ditzy and dumb, drizzling your speech with that seductive allure like frosting over a roll.
Batting your eyes and sucking up to some stud who you’ve maybe only chatted with once or twice if he could drop you home from the gym since its raining. Promising to pay him back in one form or another.
Then you can elevate to seeing if maybe the admin at work could bump up your meeting with the boss for a raise. It shouldn’t be too much hassle. After all, you've seen how the man in charge looks at you when he thinks you can't see him.
"Please" and "Thank you" go a long way when you’re this hot.
The model used is Antonio Kelly
For more works to fuel your Himbo new year, Explore all the lovely facets of the abyss.
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