#stepford | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stepfordboys · 4 months

Text

Suited

Husbands, Dave and John, swiftly needed suits for a close friend's sudden impromptu wedding. Luckily, the brand-new suit store that had just opened near them was available all night. They rushed over, intending to be in and out as fast as possible, but unbeknownst to the nieve couple, they were about to have a life-changing shopping experience that would quickly eradicate all strive for haste.

When Dave and John first stepped inside, they were immediately assaulted by the thick smell of intense cologne emanating from every corner. The scent was overwhelming but highly masculine, giving their cocks a pleasant twitch. To their surprise, there wasn't a single other customer or shop assistant in sight, but not overthinking it, pursued on.

The overabundance of suits intimidated them, having only worn basic t-shirts and jeans, but they eventually found ones they liked and, most importantly, could afford. They couldn't wait to leave; the intense smell of cologne was beginning to make them feel lightheaded. But, while trying to find a shop assistant, they encountered the endless racks of dress shoes, halting them in their tracks. They had some old, borrowed dress shoes in the car, but the new, freshly polished ones were hypnotically dazzling, begging to be admired and purchased.

As they contemplated which pairs to buy, their minds became more deliriously lightheaded from the cologne, turning them on. The added scent of fresh dress shoe leather intensified that arousal further, excitedly making the hairs on their arms stand up, and their cocks stiffen. With no soul around to stop them, they gave each other a knowing look, and without hesitation, they brought the dress shoes up to their noses and inhaled deeply. After which, they both moaned in dopey satisfaction, the intense masculine scent making their stiff cocks leak pre.

Dave and John were in perverted heaven, enthusiastically sniffing the dress shoes and playing with their stiff bulges. The thrill of potentially being caught pushing their horniness even further. They felt like they were going to explode with lust. They needed release. They needed each other. With looks of total horny desperation, they tossed aside the shoes they were sniffing, along with their picked-out suits, and began ferociously making out. They grasped each other's asses and rubbed their tight bulges together, French kissing and moaning like complete perverts. They wanted to fuck so badly, utterly intoxicated with how horny they felt.

Dave and John, too consumed in their lust, didn't notice the tossed-aside dress shoes and suits had vanished from the floor and materialized onto their bodies, replacing their clothes. They stuffed their hands into each other's pants and stroked one another's throbbing cocks, oblivious to the fact that their clothes had magically changed. Their brains felt like mush, blissfully unaware that their messy hair had magically slicked back to quaffed perfection.

They staggered into a nearby fitting room, unable to stop French kissing and jerking one another off. They needed to fuck, desperate for it. However, catching a glimpse of their reflections in the big, lit-up mirror quickly broke their lustful concentration. Finally, they realized their clothes and hair styling had changed entirely. They gave their reflection and then each other a bewildering look up and down, utterly slack-jawed.

Instantly, as if by divine force, they felt their bodies ignite with an overpowering need to cream their dress pants. Without giving it a second thought, they dry-humped each other, and French kissed even more ferociously than before. It didn't matter that nothing made sense; they were too dumb and horny to care. Besides, it wouldn't matter if they cared or wanted to stop, for the store wouldn't allow it. The store had its hooks in them too deeply, and there was nothing to do but give in entirely.

With ferocious, manly roars, they blasted their hot, sticky loads into their dress pants. However, they didn't just empty their balls but their minds, ejaculating their free will and way of life. For they now belonged to the store, freshly purchased.

Dave and John, or Davey and Jonathan as they both like to go by now, never did end up attending the wedding. Neither did they ever see their family and friends ever again. As the proud owners of the brand-new suit store, they need to give all their time and attention to their beloved business. Gone are the days of lounging about watching mindless sports and playing senseless video games, but instead, putting all their blood, sweat, and tears into their store and no longer wearing plain T-shirts and jeans but rather flashy dress suits. Their hair is now always slicked back to quaffed perfection, never messy like before. Goodbye, worn-out old sneakers and flip-flops. Hello, perfectly polished dress shoes and leather boots. For now, they were perfect, never to want anything the store didn't see fit.

They're looking to hire, by the way. Any takers ;)

#gay #stepford #stepfordization #suit #transformation #tf story

168 notes · View notes

stepfordboys · 10 months

Text

The Perfect Boy (Written by RiderVitalli. Revamped by me.)

Dylan had been such a nuisance on my street for as long as I can remember. His parents worked too hard to provide for their family that they didn't have time to raise him properly. It wasn't their fault when he'd fallen in with the wrong crowd, becoming a menace to our neighborhood. But that would change the day he decided to vandalize my prize-winning front lawn, destroying years of hard work and effort, all in the name of "fun."

I caught him in the middle of the night, using his bike to tear up my grass, he'd carved the word "fag” deeply into the dirt, and upon further investigation, I found he'd torn up my flower-garden, toilet-papered my pear tree, even spray painted vulgar shapes and anarchy symbols on my newly paved driveway.

I'll admit it; I blew a fuse! I promised myself I'd never use my incredible gift for revenge, but this was too much. A wave of power rushed across the lawn and bowled him over; his body flopped into the dirt he'd ground up. Seeing his body short-circuit, twitching and writhing as his nervous system overloaded, I knew I'd messed up. Now the only thing to do was drag him inside before the neighbors woke up for their morning routines.

I didn't know what I was going to do at first. I laid him on the cold tile floor in my kitchen, solely so I wouldn't get his filth on furniture or carpeting. His body convulsed a little, but the main effects of the blast had worn off. If I'd left him alone for any longer, he'd wake up with an incredible headache, muscles sore from involuntary spasms, but otherwise, he'd be fine in a few days.

But then I had an idea creep into my head… Could I let this delinquent go only to repeat his mischief on some other innocent neighbor? No. I had to solve this issue while I had the chance. This sad excuse of a boy would no longer be a problem after I'd finished with him. The mental image I'd conjured was perfect in every way, but I doubt he'll like it much.

I looked down at him, breathing heavily but out cold. His body splayed in an awkward position. He'd lost a shoe somewhere, and his shirt had been torn as I dragged him. The clothing choice was appalling; his shirt was covered in silkscreened pot leaves and other paraphernalia, his shorts were baggy, the entire length covered in pockets which, after a short search, were found full of little baggies, papers, lighters, and his wallet, a little chain hooked to his belt as if the 2 dollars and his school ID were worth protecting.

I used a damp cloth to clean up some of the dirt and propped him up on one of my kitchen chairs, using a little of my power to control his body, making it impossible for him to move anything from the neck down. His head lolled forward, his chin resting on his chest. Then, with a nudge to his incapacitated mind, he awoke with a gasp and groaned when the soreness and migraine hit him. He tried to move; I saw his fingers twitch a bit on the armrests, then his eyes widened, and he looked around and yelled for help when he saw who was sitting across from him.

He shouted over and over; again, his fingers, the only thing he was able to move, twitched. Finally, after a few minutes, he calmed down a bit, panting, and begged me to let him go. I explained that I would, but he needed a little lecture first. Shouting again, this time with more force and vulgarity, he demanded freedom and threatened to tell the cops. His arguments were quelled when I explained that he'd send himself to jail if he tried after vandalizing my yard.

Some thought, and he finally went quiet, listening to me. I went on and on about his behavior and how he terrorizes our little community. He seemed proud, even happy that his efforts had been noticed, which made me angrier. I think he could feel the spark of control hit him, his head throbbing, his eyes glazed, and he fell silent. That's when I let loose.

Once inside his head, I read every thought, emotion, and memory in seconds. I knew exactly who this boy was down to the very core. I felt sorry for him. He only wanted acceptance and for someone to acknowledge him. Until now, his family was too busy keeping up with their lifestyle and working to build a decent living to pay attention to their little boy.

They never neglected him; they were good to him, giving him everything he needed and even trying to make him happy with new things, toys, and video games. But he wanted more. Not material things. He wanted to feel like he was necessary, and that's where his gang of rampant delinquents came in.

They pried him out of his shell and let him experience being wanted and needed. He was their fall guy, always able to get out of trouble and their best place to hide the more illegal things. He still looked innocent, so most authorities wrote him off as harmless. That's why he had pockets full of it when I searched.

I could see why he is the way he is now. But I still had to fix him. To solve our neighborhood problem, and now I know how! He craves acceptance, attention, and feeling needed and wanted; I'd give it to him! But I knew he wouldn't like it. His whole childhood and up to now had trained him to be a rebel. His brain was wired to "fuck the police" and to run or fight authority. It was in his blood, his DNA now. Changing him the way I planned would be torture for him! But it'd teach him a lesson! Kill two birds with one stone!

He was still lost in deep unconsciousness, and a line of drool dribbled down his shirt, so I took my time. I didn't change his memories or how he thinks; I left his personality intact. What I did change was the way he'd behave on the outside. The way his body would react to things, he could think of what he wanted to say, but it would come out completely different. He'd be forced to watch as he did something to a new standard. Everything on the outside would change.

I reprogrammed his outward vocabulary, adding educated words and deleting vulgarity. He'd be unable to swear or disrespect anyone in any way. His answers to anyone with any authority would be respectful, ending with "sir" or "ma'am" I tweaked his body language; he could no longer slouch or sit with his legs wide open like most boys do. He'd sit up straight; leg crossed neatly across his knee. He could no longer disobey his parents or elders unless it harmed him or anyone else. And worse of all, he'd do it all with a polite smile!

Next, I tackled his fashion sense. The way boys now dress always bugged me, so I forced him to buy and wear a more formal, professional wardrobe: slacks, khakis, polo shirts, dress socks, or boat shoes. Sneakers for athletics, crisp white t-shirts or undershirts, and only briefs, never boxers or commando, from what I could tell, he liked. This would be one of the most significant changes, so I hammered it into his brain; I could almost feel him fighting back, but in the end, I won out.

Finally, were his hair and his new hobbies and activities? His hair now was greasy and unkempt, hidden under an ugly, worn-out old cap, but from now on, it'd be crisply clean cut, short, maybe military style, or pomp. No, I know what I wanted for him. A "college boy" cut! Shaved back and sides, with a deep part on one side, the rest combed over neatly with a little longer combed over in the front. He'd also keep clean-shaven, trimming up his body and taking out all his piercings, and find that his tattoos would fade till they were gone. The perfect match for his new looks!

He needed some new activities, vandalizing, smoking, and general misbehavior wouldn't work for the new boy. No, he needed constructive things to keep his time occupied! Judging from his current body type, he still needs to do something other than skateboard and bike to stay fit. That had to change.

Seeing his new form in my head, I realized the perfect extracurricular activity! He'd be a swimmer! It takes skill and discipline to be on a swim team, and from what I'd seen in his head, he's self-conscious of his body, always keeping covered. So being forced to wear nothing but a tight speedo and cap would add to his torture; remember, this isn't just to make him better; it's also punishment! He'd also join a track team; his legs are long enough to be well-talented. Adding that he'd now strive for A's and work hard at home and for the neighbors doing chores, I covered his free time well.

I was done. My head was pounding from the effort of all these changes, fighting his mind and winning over. He was sweating buckets, his head lolling back and forth, whimpering as I released my grip on his mind. He groaned, and I let his body go; immediately, his hands went to his head and squeezed as it tried to press out all the changes I'd made. Then he looked up, his eyes a little red, and I heard his mind screaming obscenities and demanding I undo it all, but what came out of his mouth, as his body straightened up on the chair, was nothing like his previous mental statements. "Please, sir, may I have an Asprin and a glass of water, if it isn't too much trouble?"

His eyes widened, and his mind reeled as I got him his request, his hand shakily taking them, and after swallowing the pill and water, he smiled and whimpered meekly, "Thank you, sir. May I go home now? It's far past my bedtime, and I have an early day tomorrow…" His hand unconsciously took his hat off and rubbed his greasy hair. We stood up, and I dismissed him; his last words were, "Have a great night, sir, thank you!" he ran to his house, leaving his bike in my yard.

---

It had been a few weeks now, and I hadn't had the chance to see the boy, as I'd been traveling. When I came home, I found a stranger in my front yard with a lawn mower and water bottle. When I pulled in, I recognized him at once! It was Dylan!

He was wearing an impeccably clean yet damp white tank-top undershirt, a pair of athletic shirts, and an immaculate pair of sneakers, taking a long drink from his bottle and pushing the mower in what looked to be an impossibly straight line. The entire yard looked immaculate! When he turned around, I was looking into the eyes of a completely new boy, a perfect example of a young man. His hair was precise as I'd programmed, He'd even trimmed up his pits, and his chest was shaved bare. He looked clean, aside from the sheen of sweat from the sun and heat, and he'd been working out a bit, the perfect build for a swimmer and the legs of a champion runner!

"Good afternoon, sir!" He politely stated, stopping the mower and shaking my hand. I read his mind; his internal personality was screaming, begging me to fix him, that he learned his lesson. I read the last few weeks' memories and found that his gang had rejected him after getting cleaned up, they didn't want a preppy fag boy in their group, but luckily, he found a new group! The swim team accepted him almost immediately after his tryout.

I'd given him above-average skills and knew they were all good boys like him. I also found that, after the weeks of change, his parents finally showed him acceptance and even praise; his grades were up, he was showing a lot of potential in English, probably due to his new dictionary of a vocabulary, and they let him get a puppy, after he'd asked and promised to take care of him. His life was the epitome of a perfect schoolboy, polite and disciplined, and as he craved, he was now loved and wanted by the entire neighborhood; everyone loved him! Especially since he'd taken to helping the elderly residents, he even had a new girlfriend from the track team. Inside, he was a screaming mess, his rebellious mind still fighting and demanding to be released, but that'd never happen again!

#JD07201990 #stepford #stepfordization

182 notes · View notes