Oh Great Master, I'm Summoning Your Help. I Was In Need Of Money And Had No Solutions. So I Decided To

FML: Initiate

This is a follow up to FML: Fraternize as selected by you for my 2,500 subscriber special. It took longer than expected and had a few rewrites, but I promised you all this would be the next story released. Hopefully it is worth the wait.

In all my years at this university I had never seen anything like it. Week after week students were seeming to disappear. You expect to see some flux in enrollment as students change schedules and drop classes. But these students weren’t removing themselves from classes. It was as though they were never enrolled at all. Initially within the department we all had our pet theories on the matter. But in a few weeks it was clear where they were going. It isn’t hard to notice a lot more students milling around the business campus, or the sudden discussion within administration of expanding the personal training and physiology tracts. We were all just left wondering why.

I finally hit my breaking point near the end of the semester when one of my more promising students disappeared from my roster. I asked the other pre-law professors and sure enough, they couldn’t find a trace of him ever taking a class in the department. However, I did find one lead. One of my students must have heard me discussing it with the TA’s and said that he was a member of a fraternity on campus. I groaned at the thought of having to trek out there, but I knew it was the quickest way to get some closure. Against my better judgment, I headed to the Eta Psi Rho house.

Every step there filled me with dread. I hate to confess it, but I had once attended this same university, and yes, even tried to join a fraternity. It had been such a long time ago, but I could still remember the cruel ways that my brothers had mocked, berated, and punished pledges. Fraternities we’re nothing but a blight on this campus that produced people like… well people like the man who greeted me out front.

Honestly. Back in our days at least we had the good sense to drag our brothers inside. It’s a shock campus police had not raided the place yet. I knelt down. He reeked of booze and sweat. His snore was almost deafening. Even if his brothers wouldn’t help him, I couldn’t leave him out here. I pestered the young man awake. Groggily, he rose to his feet, stumbling over his feet and his words. Immediately he clapped me on the back, thanking his ‘bro’ for the help. I tried to brush him aside, but his firm grip ushered me inside as he muttered about being late for class. I’m surprised he was still enrolled. Regardless, he helped me get inside and one of his ‘bruhs’ tried pointing me in the right direction where I could find my lost student. I began wandering the halls, looking for any sign of the young man, but they were eerily empty inside. What was I saying, the young men were all in their classes surely. Still, when from down the hall I suddenly heard, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” chanted in unison, I was a bit shocked. I walked up to the door and peered in, hoping to get better directions. I was met with a group of young men, glassy eyed, staring deep into a static filled television.

I walked in front of one young man, trying to get his attention. It was like I wasn't there as he stared right through me. It was no use, and the sound and light in the room was giving me a headache. I was about to leave when suddenly, from the TV, a clear command:

Brothers are lean and muscular.

Brothers are lean and muscular, the men all repeated. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the young man before me changed. His skin rippled for a moment, as though a chill went down his spine. Then, he began to swell. It came in bubbles, uneven and tumorous. But each patch began to combine and normalize with those around it until it suddenly stopped and a different man sat before me. At least, that's what I told myself as I bolted from the room.

Lost in the maze of corridors, I was just following the signs to the nearest emergency exit. Something was wrong here. Young men don't just- just GROW. The sign directed me rounded the corner into the laundry room and more pressingly, into a stranger. I started apologizing before I paused. I assumed there had to be a mistake.

The stranger had a familiar air to him. When he had been my student, the young man I knew was clean shaven, a bit shy and reserved in class, but smart as a whip and friendly. The man in front of me was confident. He shot me a smirk as he greeted me, ‘dabbing me up’ and calling me his bro. Up close he was overwhelming. I had known a brother to miss showers but it smelled like he hadn’t rinsed off in a week. The smell of cologne did nothing to hide the alcohol on his breath and the funk emanating from him. And while I could tell he used to be fit this was absurd. He looked chiseled from a magazine cover! The vacant expression was a far cry from the law student I knew. If it weren’t for his face and eyes, I doubt I would have even recognized him.

Regardless of his appearance, I started talking, pleading with him to tell me what was happening. What was happening in this house? Who was responsible for the poor boys in that room? Why did he throw away a bright future for this? But my words never seemed to get through. He pleasantly smiled and nodded, but gave canned answers about ‘brotherhood’. I really should have made for the exit in front of me but I was past the point of logic.

I finally shouted, “I just don’t understand why you would throw your life away for this!”

“This is my life,” he droned, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.”

That same mantra as those young men. I took a breath before continuing. God this place was rank. “Listen son, I know about the brotherhood and this fraternity. But you have to see something wrong is going on here. What were those boys doing in that room?"

"Oh the pledgies? Yeah, initiation is next week, got to make sure they stay in line over the finish line, ya know what I'm saying?"

"Someone's got to stop this. I'm going to the Dean, he'll be able to do something. This fraternity can't operate like this!"

The toothy smile fell, “You’ve got to be loyal to your bros. After all, we are made to be loyal to the frat.” His tone was suddenly flat as he began inching closer. In one swift motion he removed his tank top, flashing all his muscles. In one more, his shorts were on the ground. As he got closer, the heat in the room intensified.

It was getting hard to think, I was feeling so woozy. This bizarre display had gotten far beyond my scope as an educator. I tried to excuse myself, “I think I’d better go, this was a waste of- ” but he was suddenly upon me. I hadn’t realized I had backed myself into a corner.

"Pledge, come here!" and my mind froze.

As much as I wanted to scream and run, I could feel an unnamed power he held over me as his command to stop burrowed into my brain.

"You sound like you were in there for a bit. Let's see how much you got trained. What's a good punishment... ah. Pledge, sniff."

I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to closer to the source of his musk. I tried to resist, but something primal drove my nose in and gave a hesitant huff of pure frat bro. I was loosing any… any restraint… left. I couldn’t… resist… my… my…

He smirked, "Bro, what was that? Come on, Pledge, sniff!"

“Yes bruh.” It slipped so easily out, almost as easily as the drool from my mouth. My face crinkled as I shoved my face in his nasty pit. I couldn’t think about it. I sniffed and while I knew it was gross, it all felt fuzzy and warm in my head.

“Oh, you must have been in with them a while. Dude, we can't have you sharing fraternity secrets. Don't worry though, we may be able to save you yet. Come with me.”

My brain only processed the command as I stumbled after him back through the halls. We turned into a familiar room. I stood, head spinning, as he fiddled with a TV for a second and sat himself down.

“I think that the guys won't mind a double dose. Sit next to me.”

“Yeaaah, surrre thing,” I slurred, stumbling into my seat. His firm arm felt nice around me. He held me firmly as he pressed play on the remote and a VHS tape whirred to life. There was a disorientating strobe of colors that left me a bit dazed before starting up into an intro. I was confused at first what the tape was talking about. I wasn’t here to join the fraternity and learn more about a life of brotherhood. The opposite almost. I tried to stand, but his arm held me firmly in place. I started to protest, but the voice sounded so insistent, and it was so confusing to watch. It reminded me of something, some tape I had seen long ago. It was like slipping back into an old pair of pants, something just fit. Maybe I hear him out? Then, the tone switched.

Welcome to the first day of your new life. You have been selected to become one of the few. One of the elite. You feel honored to have been selected.

“I feel honored to be one of the elite,” every voice in the room rang out in unison.

An old pride rose in my chest. I was selected. I was better. I would be in Eta Psi Rho.

This important decision has been made for you. You must accept our guidance. The frat knows best.

“The frat knows best,” we all repeated.

You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.” It felt good as it slipped out.

Good. Brothers, step out. We have it from here.

My former student brother released my shoulder, stood quickly and left the room. But I didn’t want to leave anymore. I was to watch the tape.

Let’s start with an attitude adjustment. It is important for bros to be bros. Bros are relaxed and carefree.

“Bros are relaxed and carefree.”

I hadn’t realized how much tension I had been holding in. But as I repeated the words, a wave of relaxation rolled down from my neck, through my shoulders, rippling through my arms and torso, all the way through my legs. I let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back into my seat.

Bros eat, sleep, workout, and hang together. Bros just want to spend time with their bros.

“Bros just want to spend time with their bro.”

All sense of time and obligation suddenly felt swirled in my head. I remembered that I was supposed to go, but it felt so distant. Instead, my mind filled with a schedule of work outs, parties, meals, and frat events. I couldn’t give my lecture tonight, I would miss chapter!

In a few short weeks you will be ready for brotherhood. But first, a reminder. You want to complete your pledge. You want to be a brother.

“I want to complete my pledge. I want to be a brother.”

That almost made sense. I wasn’t a pledge, I was too old. Or, I think I am? But quickly that logic was suppressed by something else. I wanted it. I wanted so badly to be a pledge.

The commands were starting to pick up speed.

A pledge does not think for himself. He follows his brothers’ orders and fits in.

“I follow my brothers’ orders and fit in. ”

Yeah, life is so much easier when I can just listen and follow. Let others make the decisions bro.

A pledge will do anything to become a brother.

“I will do anything to become a brother.”

God it felt so good to have it all sorted out.

Now, it is important to not just act like a brother. You need to look like a brother. Feel your body. Focus on it. Every frat bro's body is a temple. A temple prime for trashing. These next four years are the prime of your life. You will enjoy your college years.

That short phrase rushed through my body. An icy chill ran down my spine that froze me in place. My body felt tight as it slowly rewound itself. I felt young blood pulsing through my body as my muscles swelled, releasing the tension of muscle aches and cranky joints. Skin pulled tight against my muscles as years of work and stress smoothed over my body. Not a wrinkle, not a sag, not a follicle of body hair was left behind as I shed my 50’s for my 20’s. Then, all at once, a wave of testosterone washed over me. It was like puberty all over, as I broke out in a cold sweat that carried that young, masculine funk. My voice cracked and softened as I moaned, my cock was flush with hunger. The brain was in no state to resist as years of history were washed away under twenty-something hormones. Bruh, I could feel my brain unfurl and smooth out a bit too. For the first time in decades, I felt young, dumb, and so full of cum.

Brothers' muscles ache from years pushing it too hard in the gym. It feels good to push your body beyond its limits. Protein powder and energy drinks are the fuel that keep you lit. Bros are swole.

“Bros are swole.”

Any twink-ish hopes I had just developed were quickly dashed against pumping iron. I felt the ice melt as my body twisted under my skin and slowly began to sweat. My stomach began to fill as a familiar chalky taste crept up the back of my throat. Protein. A deep aching filled my body, yet it continued to pulse. The more it hurt, the more I wanted it. I watched as each muscle melted inside of me and reformed out of hardened steel.

Brothers know the power of their masculinity. They are not afraid to show off their bodies. It shows others who is in charge. Let weaker men worship you. Use them for your satisfaction. You will be dominant.

I will be dominant.

I rushed to take off my clothes. They suddenly felt so restricting. I thought back to my bro as he made me sniff his rank pits. The way I just complied to his commands. The gravity of his words. I wanted that. No, I deserved that. My brain filled with a rush of new desires. To walk into a room and see people turn. To be loud, to be seen, to be heard, to be felt. I wanted the thrill of the approach as I singled out the hottest body in the room and commanded them around like my bitch. I wanted to feel their desire flush as I roughly tossed them on my bed and pried my jeans off. I deserved their mouth, open and begging for my perfect cock. I earned their hole, clenched tight as they rode for dear life until I berried my seed deep in them. I claimed the cold wind on my skin, proud of a night of conquest as I stood nude at the window, hitting my vape. I could almost feel it. I could almost... smell it? I had lifted my arms above my head, and a smell rolled off my pits. Fuck, that was the smell he had. The smell of dominance. It was mine now. I took a victorious huff.

Finally, let's ensure you can always find what you need in Eta Psi Rho. Look around you at the bros in this room. You will stay together. You will serve each other. You love your bros.

I felt a swell of kinship in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of the brotherhood. To fucking dominate this school together. But suddenly there was a tension in the air. God, why were my bros so... hot? We had all been factory made to conquer but, something more held us together. There were a few seconds as we all waited for something to happen when, suddenly, the two bros next to me made the first move.

As the room devolved into chaos, the commands kept coming. We recited back diligently between sloppy kisses, deep moans, and grunts as we slid against each other's bodies. We listened but all waited for the command that would get us to cross the finish line.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

What happens in the frat house stays in the frat house. No homo, bro.

I spit out the cock in my mouth as I kept railing the bro below me,

"No homo, bro!"

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

Perfect. We anticipate your full initiation. Cum.

Moans echoed through the halls as the tape ended.

A while passed before a door slamming shook me awake. An ache passed through me as I reached for the jug of water next to my bed. The buzz of pre-workout shook me awake. I was in my bedroom of the frat house. I was where I belonged. My big stood over my bed.

“Look at me,” my big said. My body turned to him and hit him with my cockiest smile. It felt good to obey my alpha bro.

The new man spoke, “Shit, that tape did a number on you. I don't know if we've ever inducted someone so old. How do you feel?”

“I feel relaxed and carefree, bruh,” I responded.

My bro slapped me upside the head, “Is that how you respond to your pledge master?”

Of course, how could I forget. I was so dumb sometimes, “Sorry. Good, Sir.”

His face lit up with glee, "Never get over that. Let’s see. Pledge, I brought home a twink for after the party tonight. Warm him up for me."

I felt my cock suddenly swell, rigid at attention. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

My pledge master whistled, “Dang, you know how to pick ‘em Skunk. He's no Long Leg, but he's up there. You picked out his pledge name yet?” I didn’t know his pledge name was skunk. But catching a whiff of myself as I scratched my head, guess it ran in the family.

“Well, if he’s going to keep acting like a smart ass, I’m thinking Prof.”

“Pfft, that’s hilarious,” my pledge master turned back to me, “One last question little bro. How do you feel about Eta Psi Rho?”

In an instant, an old mantra filled my mind, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” I droned.

My boyfriend recently told me he likes feet. I was into it at first but it feels like it’s replacing our sex now. I wish he wasn’t into my feet anymore.

A genie in baggy basketball shorts and massive, neon sneakers is sitting at your dining table with a small sweet on a plate in front of him. It’s your boyfriend’s favourite. “Make sure he eats this,” says the genie, and vanishes with a burst of foot-fetid smoke.

It’s no problem to get your boyfriend to eat the sweet. The hardest part is distracting him from getting on the floor at your feet to sit at the table and eat like a regular person. The instant the treat disappears down his throat, he jerks back as if he’s been struck. For a moment, his eyes are glazed, then he blinks. Licks his lips. Stands and excuses himself.

After a confused moment, you get up and follow him. Wasn’t he just supposed to stop being into feet? Pushing into the bedroom, you stop.

Your boyfriend has stripped out of his shirt. His torso is sweating profusely, and he’s buried his face in his own armpit! You can see the rock-hard bulge in his pants. He glances over and sees you. Not pausing in sniffing and licking at his own pit, he lifts his other arm invitingly.

The stench of his musk hits you like a physical blow. Why wouldn’t he be obsessed with his armpit? The smell has you hard and panting from ten feet away. Not bothering to undress, you bury yourself in his sweaty pit, moaning loudly as you lick up your new favourite taste.

His obsession with your feet has been replaced. Now you have something you can share!

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

Possession isn't easy. The act requires strong emotion to fuel the take-over. At long last, I was able to achieve the difficult feat in an old run-down gym in my former neighborhood. I watched them take my gym in what was now deemed the "undesirable" part of town and gentrify it into a new, exclusive "workout spa". A rage was brewing inside me after several years now of silently witnessing the rich pretentiousness, white grievance and pervasive sexism constantly inhabiting the locker room. I snapped when overheard three trust-fund bros recount their most recent homophobic hate crime from the night before. That swell of emotion was what I needed to take over one of these bastards and flex my phantasmic powers.

Fueled by rage, I rush at the one named Kyle and become lodged inside his body. He doubles over as his consciousness becomes intertwined with mine. His body cracks and shifts as his musculature redistributes from a body that was worked endlessly on upper body bulk to one that was the result of balanced focus on definition with nicely built thighs to support a tight ass. Tattoos bloom on Kyle's skin as he stands back up straighter, taller.

Kyle's bros are shaken by the sudden transformation of their comrade. They are struck by a pang of dread as they see the cocky and hungry look develop across my face as I take full control of my new vessel. One final change catches me off guard—I involuntarily tilt my new head back and moan as pleasure overtakes my new body. My new bros can only stare as my junk fills my jock strap pouch to the brim: dick growing, balls swelling, all while unlocking new levels of sensitivity. My pheramone kicks in, putting the bros in front of me into a trance. They're not going anywhere.

The wave ebbs and I look over Brad and David. It won't be long before I've transformed them into my new gay, sweaty, jock boyfriends who will help me mold this exclusive "fitness spa" into my new harem.

I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

I'm loving the stories! I'm heading to Mexico in a few weeks with work, but hoping to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Can you help me out?

You find yourself in front of your local Spanish-language association. You thought that taking a few classes in Spanish would help you recover some of the long forgotten classes you took in high school… though in all honesty, it won’t likely do much. You’re quite old, now, so it means that your brain cannot learn new languages as easily as it used to...

As you enter, you see the Mexican flag front and center, along with flags of many other Latin American countries, as well as that of Spain. You walk up to the receptionist, and she tells you, directly in Spanish :

“¡Bienvenidos! ¿Cuál es el motivo de usted venida? (Welcome ! What is the reason you came here ?) - Er…” You try to conjure some of the very old memories, and only manage a “Hola !” Before going back to English. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know Spanish… I’m here to take classes, in fact.”

The receptionist nods, and thinks a bit before taking out a timetable.

“Okay, well, you see, I have a... beginner’s course of Spanish in a few hours… It’s not perfect because they already started in January, but I think you can still catch up if you work hard enough.” She says, with a perfect American accent. She is visibly bilingual. - Oh, in a few hours ?”

You are quite interested, considering that you did want some beginner-level courses, but in a few hours… That’s too short to just go back home and come back later, but that’s also too long to just stay here and wait without getting bored !

The receptionist notices your embarrassment.

“You know, we are also a place where Spanish learners and native speakers can hang out. If you want, you can go to the hangout room while waiting ?” She offers sympathetically. - Well yeah, I could do that.” You nod. It may be geared towards more hard-core learners, but you can always try to immerse yourself…

You go to the room she waves you to. It isn’t loud, but there’s quite a lot of people in it, all speaking Spanish. You go and find somewhere to sit, when, on your way, someone hails you.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas? (Hello ! (...) ?)”

Your long-buried memories start churning, as you recognize the second sentence as meaning something like “What’s your name ?”. You think a while, and then, flash of brilliance.

“Me llamo Charlie.” You answer, giving out your name in the most American of accents.

Your conversation partner smiles, and speaks quite slowly to let you understand what he means.

“¿Cuántos años tiene?” You understand the sentence to mean ‘How old are you ?’ - Er… Soy… cuarenta y dos… años ?” You try, but he shakes his head. - No, ¡es ‘Tengo ventidós’ o ‘Tengo ventidós años’!”

You blush of embarrassment as he corrects you. Yes, you now remember that to mean “I am x years old” you say “Tengo x (años)”… you even remember the worksheets from way back when… Huh, it seems like it was less far of a memory than you thought.

“Lo siento…” You excuse yourself with sentence that came back strangely fast. - ¡Jajaja!” He laughs. “¡No te preocupes! ¡Hablar español es difícil! (Don’t worry ! Speaking Spanish is difficult !)”

You are surprised how easy it is to understand him. Visibly, you had more memories than you expected ! Then, that guy continues.

“¿De dónde es? (Where are you from ?) - Soy de… Mexico… Nuevo Mexico. (I’m from… Mexico… New Mexico.)”

You almost stumbled on yourself. There seems to be something wrong with that statement. You know you’re American, but something seems wrong…

“Ah, de... ¿Nuevo México? Pero tu acento no suena asi… (Ah, from… New Mexico ? But your accent doesn’t seem like it comes from there...) - Si, es verdad… (Yes, it’s true...)” You’re about to tell him that it’s because you’re American, but then you say : “La gente dice que tengo un acento de la Ciudad de Mexico. Sabes, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl. (People say that I have an accent from Mexico City. You know, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl (?).)”

Wait, why do people say that ? You never went to Mexico City ! Okay, yes, you did go there for the holidays, after all, your father lives there… Wait, your parents aren’t separated !

You get more and more confused as multiple versions of your history start competing with each other.

“¡Ah, tenía razón! Puedo verlo en tu cara que eres… eh… ¿mexiqueño? (Ah, I was right ! I can see by your face that you are… er… from Mexico City ?) - ¡Jajaja!” You laugh. “¡No se dice ‘mexiqueño’! ¡Se dice capitalino, o chilango si estás familiarizado! (You don’t say “Mexiqueño” ! You say “Capitalino”, or “Chilango” if you’re familiar !)” You don’t quite know where this knowledge comes from. It seems like something only locals would know… - Perdón, soy chileno, no lo sabía… (Sorry, I’m Chilean, I didn’t know...)”

You smile at him. Of course, he couldn’t know that, you’re familiar with these terms because you’re a Chilango through and through ! Born in the city, lived in the city ! Yet you furrow your brows, as something still feels off.

Somehow, you’re convinced that you’re American, even though it seems to be a more and more distant fact. Well, when you look down and see those tan arms, you know that you aren’t, like, a total gringo, you’re at least part Latino…

“¿Cómo es la vida allá? (How is life there ?)” The Chilean guy asks you, a torrent of memories coming back (?) to you. - ¡Es complicado de describir! Pero México es muy dinámico, ¡entonces siempre es interesante! (It’s difficult to describe ! But Mexico is very dynamic, so it’s always interesting !)” You think back to how frantic life is over there… and how much you love that. “Especialmente comparado con aquí, parece que esta citudad está muerta… ¡En México siempre hay un xochitzin con el que te puedes topar! (Especially when compared to here, this city seems dead… In Mexico, there’s always an xochitzin (?) you can run into !)”

As the Chilean nods, you keep getting quite confused. You know you’re from Mexico City, you know you’re American, yet somehow there is like… a piece of the puzzle missing. You keep on thinking strange words like “Mexihco Hueyaltepetl” or “ihni”, and you know it’s not Spanish, nor English – not that you would know too much of that language.

You continue thinking as your body starts feeling strange, as you feel it shifting. You put your hand on your forehead and sense your wrinkles relaxing. You feel quite queasy…

“¿Estás bien? (Are you alright ?) - Me siento un poco mareada… (I feel a bit dizzy…) - Sólo tienes que ir al baño. ¿Quieres que te ayude? (Just go to the toilets. You want me to help ?) - No, estará bien. Tlazohcamati. (No, it’s gonna be alright. (???)) - Okay… eh... ¿Eres indígenas? (Okay… er… Are you a Native American ?)”

You don’t answer the Chilean, only giving him a small wave to thank him. You find your way to the toilets, still queasy, and look at yourself.

You’ve got your usual short black hair, your nascent beard that doesn’t want to come along, your brownish tint, as well as your light muscles. Nothing looks out of place, yet something seems wrong.

Is it the fact that you are so youthful ? You know you’re quite twinky. Is it the fact that your skin looks weird ? You know that it’s clearer than the other’s because your mother is gringo.

You feel even more queasy, as you feel your entire body tensing. Memories come back of your time in the gym, but also of the time with all your xochitzmeh (bros)… Yes, you now remember how you’re the son of an American linguist and a Nahua man. How you grew up speaking Nahuatl along with the other kids from around Mexico City. How you started going to the gym to prove that gays aren’t cuiltemeh (sissies/fags). How you now cringe to that line of thought, yet continue doing it to attract guys.

As the pieces of your life go back together, your queasiness dissipates, and you feel better. You drink a bit of water, and then you go back to the hangout room. As you go in there, the Chilean hails you once again.

“¡Charlie! ¿Esta mejor? (Charlie ! Doing better ?)”

Laughable, “Charlie” is only the nickname your grandparents use when you’re at their house… Why does that guy even know it ?

“¡Mi nombre no es Charlie, es Carlos! ¡Carlos Zopiyactle! (My name isn’t Charlie, it’s Carlos ! Carlos Zopiyactle !)” You say in a very matter-of-fact fashion. - Lo siento, pensé que te llamabas Charlie… (Sorry, I thought that you were named Charlie...) - No es nada. (It’s nothing.)” You answer with a very Mexican accent, aspirating your ‘s’. “Pero, tengo que irme ahora. ¡Adiós! (However, I need to go now. Goodbye !) - ¡Adiós, Carlos! (Goodbye, Carlos !)”

You leave the room, go past the receptionist who smiles at you a bit weirdly, and make your way back to your grandparent’s home. You don’t really like going there, because you’re not very good in English, but eh. Pleasing your mom is a good enough reason.

Suddenly, you hear a very familiar-sounding sound from your phone. You open it, seeing a notification, smile, and answer it before calling your mother.

“¡Cualli teotlaltzintli! ¡Amo niyaz tlacualpan! (Good evening ! I’m not going to be there for dinner !) - Pff… ¡Aic timotlamahzehua nanmonahuac! (Pff… You never come eat with us !) - Nomati, pero tengo cosas que hacer. (I know, but I have things to do.)” You say, switching back a bit to Spanish. - ¿Zannima tihual mocuepaz? (You will come back soon ?) - Quema. Nantli, nimitz nequi. (Yes. Mom, I love you.) - Ohuihqui nimitz nequi. (I love you too.)”

You finish the call and smile. She doesn’t have to know that you’re missing the family dinners to be pounded. Those jocks on Grindr don’t know what your pseudonym “Moiztactlaca” means, but it sounds foreign, and they love it.

Soon, you’re going back home to Mexico City, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t take advantage of all the hot guys here in the meantime !

He’s doing this to me. I swear. That dumb jock of a roommate is somehow making me into a bro like him. It started with just waking up with clearer skin, gettin a face that was not as thin and pale. But then I noticed changes to my body. I was waking up not as much the skinny beanpole I was the night before, filling in shirts and jeans that were big before. I thought maybe I was eating better with the meals my roomies been making or some kinda second puberty. But I kept on changing. And I can see my roommate always staring, askin me how I’m feeling, giving me shoulder rub, telling me I feel tense. He’s never been that nice. I’ve caught myself saying bro and dude more and more often and I swear I’m losing interest in book stuff or at least it’s getting harder to concentrate. And look at me. Abs and pecs. My biceps and shoulders are getting massive and they’re probably gonna get even bigger. Fuck I mean who am I kidding I’m looking hot. And it’s not just muscle, it’s cock. I’m getting thicker and longer everyday, and insanely horny. So hard not to just pull it out and see how I’ve grown, flex and smirk- my smile is so damn hot and cocky now. Fuck I’m losing myself aren’t I. But so what if my interests are changin a little. Look at these abs. My roomie has been checking me out, he wants a piece of this, who wouldn’t, and he’s fucking hot. Fuck I want to hold him down, show him what these muscles can do. Press my hard body against his, really show him what kinda dumb jock I can be. Huhu fuck yeah that would be so hot.

H for Henry?

Monday morning. I'm supposed to go on a date with a girl I met on Tinder tomorrow. As an asian geek with no amazing body, nor something other people would find attractive with, I wanted to look good on my very first date.

My roommate, Henry, was kind and supportive for it. He's very fond of dressing well so he did all he could to make sure I will look great when I finally meet the girl, and so he let me borrow some of his clothes.

He helped me get dressed. After wearing it all up, he decided to add finishig touches. He pulled a necklace from his pocket and handed it over to me.

"H?" I asked, "Wouldn't it be weird if she sees me with an initial of your name, Henry?"

"That's not really what the H is for. Just try it out, Dennis, and let's see." He replied

As soon as I wore his necklace, I started to feel an impressively pleasurable feeling that washed down my body. At first, it just feel as if I'm all relaxed, but when I sat down on the bed, my whole body started to feel so sensitive. Even just my skin feeling the confines of my clothes sends shivers down my spine. Sooner or later, I felt my cock tent. I realized then that I'm so horny. My hands moved to paw on my errection as it started to grow. My other hand felt up inside the shirt I was wearing to tease my nipple, realizing that my chest is starting to lose fat and get replaced by muscles.

I looked at Henry as he moved closer to me.

"H can mean a lot of thing, but one things for sure." Henry grabbed my chin to make me look directly into his eyes.

"Horny."

I groaned as I felt more uncontrollable lust wash all over me.

"and the other would be..." He pulled my face near him, matching our lips as they level to each other.

"Himbo."

It's like a command. As soon as he said that, my mind cleared out. I couldn't help but just give a smirk as I feel my horniness rise up with Henry in front of me.

"Mmhmmm, broooo...." I groaned as I started to feel more muscles begin to fill up the clothes he made me wore. I couldn't think if anything else but to get some tight pussy to fuck. God, I can't wait to hook up with that girl tomorrow.

"Hairy." He added.

My face started to get itchy and my right hand that I was using to play with my nipple rose up to sratch it, feeling my facial hair fill up to a trimmed beard. My chest also filled up with hair as the thin ones on my arms and legs started to thicken.

"Homo." He finished

My eyes widened. At first, I wanted to push bro away because he called me a Homo, but isn't he right?

"Bro.... You're so.... close..."

"Yeah? Watchu gonna do about it, big guy?"

With his fingers still on my chin, he pulled me in for a kiss. I returned back, giving him the deepest kiss. He climed up the bed, spreading my legs and his legs in between mine. As we kiss, we starting taking off each other's clothes. Well, isn't what I'm wearing also his? Haha.

I feel his hard cock grinding against mine through each other's pants. We broke the kiss for a bit so we can take each other's pants off.

"God, bro... You're hugeeee..." I trailed off, looking at his cock.

"You're 'Hung' too, big guy." He winked at me, and soon, like a command, my cock started to grow bigger too. I moaned loud as I gripped on it, growing from its 5 inch to an 8.

Henry dove back and continued kissing me. His hand now gripping on my cock. His kisses went down to my neck, then to my nipples. Goddd! I'm so sensitive! He's jerking me off while licking my tits! His cock, softing poking my ass.

"Fuck, bro... I want you..." I moaned.

"Yeah, big guy?" Henry said in between kisses.

"Fuck me, bro. I want your dick in my ass."

Henry didn't have to be told twice. He pulled my legs on top of his shoulders, and soon, he was pushing his cock in me.

"Ooohhhh, broooo! That's soooo....." I groaned as he slowly pushed it.

"You're so tight, big boy!" Henry said.

"Fuck me hard, now. I want it bro!"

"Yeah? You want it hard?"

"Make me bust my nut!"

Henry moved in, pushing hard, then back out. Slow at first, but soon he was fucking me like a crazy. His cock, making it all feel good inside. His hand on my cock.

He was so good, he was kissing me while he fuck my wits out. God, I'm so horny and gay for my bro.

"Bro! Bro! I'm...!"

"Yeah? Let it out, big buy!"

"Fuckkk!"

"I'm close too- I'm!"

Henry pulled out, jerking both of our cocks. Then our gate just bursted open and we came at the same time. His cum mixing with mine as we emptied out our balls all over my abs and chest.

"G-God, bro... That's so goood..."

Henry fell on top of me, our cum smearing all over our bodies. We hugged each other as our lust subsided.

"Wish that wouldn't be the last time, bro..." I whispered into his ear.

"Me too..." Henry said, his arms tightening up around me. "I've always liked you and I don't wanna let some girl take you away."

I took a deep breath. Henry's sudden confession didn't feel too bad. If I'll be honest, I started to feel more comfortable now. Realizing what magic he did to me, I don't think I mind. Henry's a nice guy. He did a lot for me. It might've been he change, but I remember telling my best bro that I would go out with him if I was gay. I hold onto the necklace and thought of something.

"We can make it last forever, you know." I said.

"How?" He lifted himself off, looked at me in the eyes.

I took the necklace off and wore it around his neck.

"H-...." I hesitated, being a himbo now kinda made me forget the right word.

"Husband."

Henry's eyes widened as we feel our new wedding rings appear on our fingers.

Hyperspermia - Part I

Alejo had been gone for the long weekend, and I have to say it was bittersweet. Sure, it was nice to have the apartment to myself, but he and I get along quite well! You would hope after two years of rooming together that you get to a point where there's a sort of balance and understanding between you and your roommate. In my case, it's absolutely true. We've gotten comfortable with eachother, I've gotten used to his girlfriend Bianca coming to hang out on 'Game Night Fridays;' overall, its been a great experience.

So, even though a quick Friday to Monday trip for Alejo and Bianca was nothing extensive, I was extremely excited to see him again. In fact, receiving his text that he'd arrived back safely at the flat had my head spinning with curiosity about his time in Rio. I rounded the corner, and another ping rang from my phone. I look down and my brow immediately raises quizzically. He'd lost his apartment keys? Looking down at my phone as I walked up to the building, I was moderately perplexed. The normally tight-wound, meticulous Alejo would never lose track of his keys, let alone be so relaxed in the midst of it. He was back from an international vacation, however, so I dismissed it as a brain fart after a long day of traveling. Though as I pulled the heavy glass door open to our building lobby, the sight that met me should have dismissed that simple explanation right off the bat.

"Ayy! Dante!" The name caught me off guard. William Dante Alaverdian. That's my name. I always introduce myself as Will, or even William if we had just met. Dante is never the name I use in my everyday life, only a few people would know it- and one of them sat on the top of the room divider looking quite different from the last I had seen him.

"Dante!" He sat on the half wall, grinning from ear to ear. It was indeed Alejo, though not the Alejo that had departed his apartment a week prior. His hair was short and cropped; his arms were covered in ink. Gone were the polos, the khaki shorts, the boat shoes... all replaced with a sweaty black tank top, baggy jeans, and bulky Nikes. This was quite an aesthetic departure from that I had known, and far more than a meager wardrobe change. Even the demeanor in which he sat on the wall belied a strangely rebellious attitude, only further confirmed by the irritated glance of the lobby security guard he so blissfully ignored.

"Alejo... Is that you? Get off that, the guard is watching!" Alejo turned to see the man, scoffing as he hopped off the wall. As he strutted forward, I noticed his stature. He was always a tall guy, but as he approached me it was clear that a couple of inches had been added to his height. He slapped me on the back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Man, I missed you!" His voice even sounded... off. Relaxed pronunciation of consonants, a somewhat higher timbre to his speech, had he gotten his teeth done? I looked Alejo up and down, completely perplexed.

"You look... Different..." Alejo chuckled, looking at his arms with a somewhat dim grin on his face.

"Ah, yeah. Might have gone overboard with the tatts. But it looks pretty sick, right?" He nudged me, his elbow jabbing into my side and laughing before tossing his arm around my neck. I didn't know how to react. We made our way to the elevator, this newfound stranger acting as if everything was normal. "Sorry I lost the keys, bro. I don't know where my head is these days, huhu!" This jovial tone, if not borderline braindead, was yet another new characteristic which set off alarms within me. Despite our friendship, I'm not afraid to admit Alejo was something of a sour personality, sometimes treading into insufferable territory with his pessimistic outlook on his life and the world around him. Again, I dismissed it as a rejuvinated and relaxed guy who had just returned from a good vacation.

"Yeah, I'm eager to hear about your trip and all of... this." I tried to pretend as if I didn't notice the shift, smiling as the elevator doors opened and we walked onto the empty lift. It began it's slow trek to the eighth floor, and that's when I first caught the scent. Sharp, musky... As if he'd forgotten his deodorant that morning. Yet another peculiarity for such a... perfectionist of his caliber. I try to ignore the subtle wafts from his pits with a subject change. "So... do you know where your keys are?" I hoped he'd be able to suffer through the smell until we were in fresher air.

"Oh, heh! Fuck, bro. I don't know, hah! Probably in the Uber. Maybe Bianca had 'em in her purse. Who knows, bro." I was less than enthused, but willing to overlook it. A quick replacement key made at the keysmith and that would be that. Though as he started to blather on about Ipanema and the girls on the beach... that's when I first noticed it. Perhaps the sight of it was blocked by the bagginess of the jeans at first glance, but as Alejo stood there completely upright, I could see it. A rather considerable patch of dampness on the crotch of his jeans.

"Fuck! Alejo did you fucking wet yourself?" He casually glanced down at his groin, a daft giggle escaping his lips.

"Oh. Nah it's not piss. I'm just a bit leaky today, if you know what I mean!" My jaw hung wide open, aghast at the audacity of what I'd had heard. This display did not go unnoticed by Alejo, who quickly brushed it off. "It's just a little pre, my dude. It's not gonna hurt ya!" The elevator doors opened, the clean air of the hallway rushing into the confined space. I quickly exited the elevator and quickly started to walk toward the apartment door.

Sticking my key into the lock, I watched as a wry grin slithered onto his face as he walked inside. It was only then as he strutted over the couch and crashed onto his back, smirking as he scrolled through his phone that I realized... where were his bags?

"Uh, Alejo... Did you forget something else? Your luggage?" He didn't even look up from his phone- smiling and waving off my concern.

"Craziest shit, my dude. I guess I packed old clothes or somethin', when I got there like half of my stuff didn't fit. So, a couple of cool dudes I met at the hotel were happy to share some threads. Should be gettin' here in a day or two!" Alejo kicked his sneakers off, landing with loud thuds on the floor, showing of his dirty socks. At this point, I can't deny it- something is wrong. A clean freak like Alejo wouldn't be caught dead with dirty, pungent socks on his feet. Especially without a care in the world. I sit there in awe for a moment, confused beyond all confusion before I head into my room to escape the cheesy scent of his sneakers wafting through the air.

The next few days, I watched Alejo with a careful eye. His pristine appearance had all but disappeared. Gone were the days of his pressed and tidy button ups, crisp chinos and Sperries. Instead, every day as I left to go to work, he'd dressed in whatever his Brazilian 'bros' had sent him. Jerseys, baggy jeans, gold chains, high top Chucks, tank tops, crop tops, Nikes... and the now ever present and seemingly growing wet patch on his crotch. I didn't recognize my roommate of two years whatsoever. Even coming home after a long day at the office, he'd be in his room with the door locked with loud music at all times of the night. Smoke would flow from under the door more and more, easily identifiable as cannabis- yet another thing that the Alejo I knew had been vehemently opposed to, and now suddenly a nightly user.

Don't get me wrong, he was always as cordial and friendly as before- if not more. He'd try to invite me to play whatever FIFA game he'd bought in his room, or to go to have drinks at a bar... But the more I observed him, the less I could pin him down. I'd started spending more and more time in the courtyard before heading in to the apartment: finishing spreadsheets for work or just watching YouTube videos. Yeah, I was avoiding him. I'd signed up to room with the old Alejo... not whoever this was. Every time I'd come in late, he'd already be in his room, music blaring and smoke flowing from the crack in the door. He didn't say anything for a while, I assume thinking that I was working later and later. With this newfound dumbass brain he seemed to have, it would have made sense. Though, as I walked through the courtyard doors that Saturday night, that tactic quickly came to an end.

"Dante!" I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to the chair across the pool to see Alejo sitting there with a smirk on his face. "Cmon roomie, let's talk." I approached slowly, noting the gigantic damp patch on his jeans yet again. This time, so wet in fact that one could see the sheen of his slimy pre reflecting on the surface of the fabric. I took the chair next to him, sitting down in front of him quietly, awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.

"Bro, I feel like you've been hiding from me! Where you been?" He spread his legs widely for me, his smelly Chucks landing on either side of my chair. The stain on his groin was fully visible now, massive in fact- almost the size of his entire hand. I could smell the almost chlorine scent of cum mixed with the strong scent of unwashed cock bellowing out of his pants. "It's like you've been avoiding me ever since I got back..." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face a mere foot or so away from mine. Flashing a sly grin with his perfect teeth, I found myself feeling... objectified. Though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, I could feel them roaming over me. "Could it be because you're just taking in the new and improved Alejo? 'Cuz I could get that. Things are a little different now, I'm definitely feelin' myself these days..."

I watched with absolute confusion, quickly shifting to shock as he brought his hand to the wet bulge in his pants, slowly kneading it. You could hear the squishing, slimy sound of his wet crotch... And here's the thing. As a very out and proud gay man, this sort of situation playing out would be very different if it were anyone else other than Alejo. The guy was as straight as an arrow, planning on engaging Bianca in the next few weeks. This Alejo looked at me like a wet pussy ready to be bred. But in that moment, I found myself watching his lustful smirk, pawing at his dripping crotch, even taking the time to bring his finger to his lips- suckling on it.

"I think... it's about time you took me up on roomie time." Alejo leapt up, strutting to my side, his fragrant crotch in front of my face. "Whaddya say, bro?" I suppose the right word to describe myself as I stared at the outline of his lengthening bulge straining against his jeans would be... dicknotized. No rhyme... no reason... just letting the moment come to pass with no hesitation. All my concerns, all of my suspicion melted away as I took his hand and followed him back to the elevator and up to our apartment. We stopped in front of his door for a moment, just for him to turn to me and say, "Excuse the mess, bro. Heheh."

He opened the door, and had I not been completely encapsulated by his flirtatious energy, I would have been floored. The room was a disaster. Dirty laundry strewn all over the floor, the comforter tossed into the corner, sweat stained sheets on the mattress, a gigantic bong on the side table, but above all... condoms. Used condoms, untied and hanging on every surface in the room. A fleshlight uncapped sat on the bed, his spunk still dripping from the clear silicone hole. The room stank of weed, cum, dick, and feet- on the balcony, pairs of reeking sneakers sat piled up.

Each of these things would have turned me off in their own right. Questionable hygiene aside, the state of the room itself should have been enough for me to have legitimate reason to pass on 'hanging out' with him. Yet, that wasn't what happened. I saw him flash those pretty brown eyes, smile with those plump lips, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. I walked into the room as he shut the door.

"Take a load off, bro. I'll pack us a bowl." I did as he suggested, sitting down onto the bed, my gaze subtly shifting between his beautiful ass bending over to tend to the bong and the dripping fleshlight to my left. He turned around, picking up the bong and plopping down next to me. He smiled as he ignited the bowl, taking in a deep breath of smoke before blowing a large cloud into the air with a satisfied sigh. "Ahh, that's better. Here ya go, bro."

He handed me the bong. He fell backward onto his back, his arms behind his head as he waited for me to take a toke. The water seemed mostly clean, a white film seemed to sit atop the basin, but surely nothing to worry about if he'd just taken his own hit. I brought the bong to my lips, flicked the lighter and inhaled the dank, salty smoke that filled the pipe. I coughed as I let out my very first toke of weed. Alejo smiled and laughed.

"Bro! You goin' WILD on your first time out! Atta boy!" I mirrored his smile as the smoke flowed from my mouth. "Here, dude I found a new show for us. We're gonna do roomie time every night, man." Though it wasn't the Alejo I'd known, it was great to have him around again. We continued to smoke as he put on some ridiculous show: four best friends in Boston and their shenanigans owning a bar. As we watched the show, taking turns with the bong, I could tell where the show's tone was headed... The guys were always paling around, roughhousing, just four idiots being idiots; good looking idiots at that. I can't say I was super into the show, but strangely enough, neither was Alejo. I could feel his penetrating stare and smirk from behind me, watching me, roaming over my body. Just the feeling of being ogled was enough for me to endure 'roomie time.'

We finished three or so episodes that night before I had to head to bed. Standing up, I made my excuses and headed toward the door. I exited, and as I closed the door, I peeked through the crack just in time to see him unzipping his jeans and grabbing ahold of the fleshlight. I quickly shut the door, and headed back to my room. By the time I did, the loud music began to bang through the walls. Though, upon listening closer that evening, I could hear him moaning through the guitar riffs.

The next morning, I awoke with quite the headache. The weed must have hit me hard last night. I was groggy, the room was spinning, a sharp pain in my forehead radiating like a screwdriver being jabbed into my brain. I stumbled to my feet and walked toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were still bloodshot, and I'd been sweating all night long, my underwear drenched in sweat. I brought my hand to my forehead- yup, a fever indeed. I called off of work shortly after and dragged my feet to the kitchen. Alejo stood there shirtless, making eggs with a chipper smile on his face.

"Morning, bro! I made us some breakfast before you go to..." He turned, catching sight of me seemed to take him aback. "Whoa... You look rough, dude. You feeling okay?" I rubbed my face, pain still radiating from my head.

"I don't know... Do you usually get headaches after smoking?" He stood there for a moment, as if he were trying to remember what we had done last night before he broke out laughing.

"Oh shit, bro! I forgot how much you hit the bowl last night! Heheh, yeah I bet you feel like shit. Here, I got just the thing for it." He dropped the pan with the eggs onto the countertop, and strutted toward his room. He waved for me to follow, which I did in my still somewhat inebriated state. The room was even more discheveled if you can believe it, the fleshlight sitting ever present on his pillow. From his top drawer, he pulled out a small bag. "Here, bro, take one of these."

He dropped two small white gummies into my hand. Without hesitation, I gulped them down. Coconut flavor... with a strange peppery aftertaste. Alejo smiled and patted me on the back.

"Best way to cure a weed hangover? More weed, bro. Wait 'til these kick in, you'll be chilled out in no time." I should have known better, I should have asked what they were, I should have just gotten some chicken soup and suffered through it. But I didn't. I just stared at Alejo's bright smile, his beautiful tanned muscles, the huge wet spot on his black pants... I was getting more and more smitten with him by the second. "Bro, the bright side is... we got all day for roomie time! Here, chill here, I'll get the eggs and we can kick it all day long!" He scurried out of the room, leaving me alone in his room.

I looked down at my feet as I walked toward the bed, walking over his condoms and crusty socks with care until I sat down on the mattress. His scent was thick in the room, the sheets had soaked up his sweat like a sponge, and the open balcony door wafted in the ripe scent of his sneakers. The smell was starting to grow on me, for a reason I can't explain, I started to associate pungent scent with the new Alejo... The one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one who I'd all but started to thirst for. I leaned back, waiting for the ringing in my ears to subside, before I realized that something cool and sticky was sitting beneath my palms. Turning around, I quickly sat up upon seeing just what it was: his dirty thong.

I shuffled over to the other side of the bed, staring at the slimy red thong sitting alone atop the stained sheets. I looked at my hand, still sticky... I knew what it was, I couldn't even deny it in my head. Yet, I found myself staring intensely at it. I watched as my fingers creeped closer and closer to my face, until it was right under my nose. I breathed in. Salty, sweet, sharp... I couldn't stop myself from sniffing at my slimy fingers, I couldn't stop myself from letting my fingers slide down toward my lips, I couldn't stop them from slipping past my lips. I heard the squeaking of his sneakers as he approached with breakfast, quickly licking the slime off my fingers before he walked into the room.

"Aiiight! Eat up, homie! Made with love, just for you." He winked at me, handing me the plate, butterflies flying about in my stomach. Just as he plopped down on the futon across from me, the gummies started to kick in. As promised, the headache immediately subsided, but I found myself yet again in a state of light delirium. We sat and ate, laughing like jackasses and joking about our sexual conquests. I couldn't help but laugh as he'd talk about his Latin Leche, and how good it must feel to have it fill a pussy. Little did he know, I'd had a taste of it myself. In my delirium, it made sense to finally ask him about the little friend sitting on the nightstand.

"So... I noticed your new pal over there. What's up with that?" I pointed to the fleshlight on the nightstand, and Alejo immediately grinned from ear to ear.

"Oh, fuck bro. Here, give it to me." I leaned over, picking up the plastic container, surprised at just how heavy it was. I stood up, walking over to him he reached his hand out to take it from me, but I felt frozen as I stared at him. The damp patch seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the day... as did the scent which wafted from his beautiful body. He smiled, chuckling to himself as I stood there, taking in his studliness. Instead of the fleshlight in my hands, his fingers wrapped around the waistband of my sweats, pulling gently. "Heh, like what you see, bro?"

I could barely move, entirely locked in place as his fingers slipped past my waistband and onto my underwear. His grin turned mischievous, a lusty smirk instead creeping across his face as his hand moved further south, past my pubes until the tip of his finger had touched the base of my growing shaft. His eyes never broke with mine as his hand wrapped around my cock.

"Yeahh, homie. You like what you see. I thought so." He slipped his hand out of my pants, grabbing ahold of the fleshlight as if nothing had just happened. I stood there in shock. What did it mean? Did it happen? Was it an edible hallucination? How would I know, it's my first edible? He looked at the sticky fleshlight and laughed. "Nice, right? Bro, it feels just like good ass. Better than ass, man. Milks ya dry." He slipped his fingers into the tight hole, fingering it until he'd gotten a considerable glob of his spunk on his fingers. I was rock hard. Standing there like an idiot, just watching as he played with the slime on his fingertips before wiping it on his crotch. "So... Roomie. Wanna try it out?"

My face flushed. Did I? The hole glistened with his cum, from the sheer weight of it, several loads were in there- and not small ones. The thought of his sloppy seconds sounded strangely hot, and as he patted the seat next to him on the futon, I found myself yet again doing as I was told. I sat down, having no resistance as he pulled my sweat pants down to my ankles. His devilish smirk never subsiding, his eyes not breaking from mine, he slowly tugged on my underwear until my cock had slapped against my belly and into the open.

"Nice cock, bro." His voice was low and sultry as he took my manhood into his hand, slowly stroking me. I could only whimper and moan as he pumped me, closing my eyes in bliss. He worked it like an expert. His fingers circled around my head as he slid his hand up and down my pulsating shaft. As I continued moaning in bliss, I heard the faintest sound of a zipper, then a wet slap. He took my hand into his, guiding it over to him until I opened my eyes to see it slowly wrap around his own cock. It was magnificent. Long, slender, his foreskin covering his dripping tip. The pre flowed like a waterfall, pooling atop his pants. He wrapped my hand around the slimy dick as he moved it up and down. A few seconds is all it took before I was pumping that gorgeous cock, staring at the massive swollen balls slowly undulating below. We stroked eachother for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, huffing as we did. "Here, homie. I got you." His hand slipped off my cock, and I felt the silicone hole press against my head. His loads seeped out of the fleshlight, coating my cock with his cum before he slowly pressed it down.

Ecstasy. I screamed out in pleasure as the fleshlight swallowed my cock, squelching wetly as it did. Up and down, my cock begged for it. His cum slithering around my hard dick as he pumped it. We took turns- just as I was about to blow, he slipped it off with a loud 'shlorp,' slipping it over his own dirty cock and pumping. The pungent scent of sex filled the room for the next two hours of us edging eachother. Our cocks were glazed in our juices, mingling with eachother on our leaking shafts. Soon, we had each blasted our seed into the plastic tube, our foreheads pressed together, fists on eachother's cocks... We collapsed back against the futon, laughing and pumping eachother's knuckles. I felt free... I felt relaxed... I felt sexy... This new Alejo had come back a different person, and I was here for it. He handed me a dirty sock to wipe myself with, a task he'd just completed.

"My boy! This is the kind of roomie time I'm talkin' about, homie!" Alejo slapped me on the back, as I chuckled a soft laugh. We spent the rest of the day just as we did the night before. Shootin' the shit, laughing til we couldn't breathe, laughing about our swollen balls, playin' video games until the sun came up the next day. "Shit, man. Sun's up. You got work today?" I did, but my brain had taken a different route altogether. What harm would another day off be? I hadn't used my sick days, and I'm feeling sick... It's not a lie...

"Eh. I took the week." Not true. It wasn't true. I hadn't even asked, let alone gotten anything approved... But the shit eating grin on Alejo's face was enough of a reason in my mind.

"Ah, shit, man! Boy do I got plans for you." The days went by like a blur. I don't remember it all, just bits and pieces here and there. That second day though, I remember well. I'd made my announcement, my lie, I was to be off for the next six days. Alejo grinned, saying he would pack another bowl for us. His seemingly unending stash had truly surprised me, never without a nugget to be ground. I'd decided to try and wash the stink that had accumulated from 22 hours of roomie time. I remember walking to the bathroom, feelin' odder than usual. I couldn't tell you why, or what exactly felt off... but I can say, my balls felt like bowling balls. I flipped the lights on, looked into the mirror... and I just stood there for a moment. Struck with awe.

---

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!

Will be posted on Blogspot as a single story, conclusion to come after my birthday!

i would love to become a football jock.. all muscular, horny, dumb, alpha.. the brotherhood of jocks and bros

I love cleats .. I wish I could just try some on...

I slipped into the locker room like I didn’t belong, because I didn’t. My sneakers squeaked on tile still damp with sweat and something thicker. The air was heavy, suffocating, soaked in days of unwashed socks, jockstraps, and testosterone. My cock twitched before I even saw them.

The cleats were by the bench. Still warm. Still wet. Black, beaten, with a yellowed sole that looked chewed by use. I knelt and picked one up, hands shaking. Brought it close.

The smell hit me like a punch. Thick. Cheesy. Hot. The kind of stink that clung to the back of your tongue and stayed. I gasped, instantly hard. My eyes rolled back as I pressed my face in deeper, nose grinding into the crusted insole. The sweat was alive, sharp and tangy like it had fermented. I moaned, shame burning as I huffed deeper.

Then… footsteps.

I froze.

He stepped into view. Towering. Shirtless. His torso was slick with sweat, veins crawling across thick arms. I tried to move. I tried to stop sniffing. But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t obey.

“Don’t stop.” His voice was low. Lazy. Cruel. “That one’s mine.”

A low whine escaped me.

“You like that smell? Course you do. Got a few... gifts in it.”

I whimpered, my cock rock-hard in my pants. He stepped closer. The heat radiating off him was suffocating. His bulge strained in soaked compression shorts. I couldn’t look away.

“Take your pants off. Now.”

I stripped. No hesitation. My knees wobbled as I stood bare, leaking. My cock throbbed in the thick locker room air.

“Put ‘em on.”

I slid the cleats onto my bare feet. The moment they touched skin, heat shot up my legs. My toes curled, heels locking into place. I gasped—muscle packed onto my calves, thighs swelling, skin slick with sudden sweat. My stance widened, body adjusting instinctively to the added weight. I felt... stronger.

“Yeah, bro,” he grinned, stepping closer, body radiating control. “Bet that’s makin’ you feel real good.”

His fingers brushed my cock.

I jerked, moaning.

He didn't stroke, just teased. Lazy, cruel touches that had my hips grinding forward, my breath ragged. I was dripping, every nerve lit up, body begging for release.

“Wanna cum, bro?”

“Y-yeah,” I gasped, eyes fluttering.

“Tough.” He taunted grazing the tip of my cock like electric pleasure.

He stepped back. My hips thrust forward desperately, chasing friction, but found only air.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t cum 'til the team says you can. You know why?”

He held up a black plastic jock cup. Greasy. Fused with old sweat, yellowed on the inside. It reeked. My knees buckled just smelling it.

“Because this is yours now. This is where your cock goes. Forever.”

He shoved it against me. It sucked my cock in, fast and wet. I screamed. The cup sealed to my groin, hissing, pulsing with heat. The walls hugged my shaft, twitching, squeezing, edging, like it was alive and it’s only purpose was to keep me on the brink of an orgasm, never enough to cum.

I wanted to reach down to tear it off. My hands wouldn’t move.

“That’s the dumbcup. You don’t take it off. You don’t touch your cock. You don’t need to. You’re a jock now.”

My back arched. My spine cracked, lengthening. Shoulders widened, chest exploded with new mass—pecs thick and heavy with sweat. My neck bulged. My brain ached.

“F-fuck… wait…”

“Too late, bro. Say goodbye.”

Thoughts spilled like water. My name, gone. Books, forgotten. My degree? What was a degree? My mind fogged over, the air inside my skull filling with gym funk, locker room chants, grunts and moans and the rhythm of my bros fucking me on repeat.

“Say it.” He taunted.

“I’m a… dumb jock,” I panted.

He grabbed my head. Forced me to look up planting a rough kiss on my lips as if to inflict one last ounce of control over the free will I had left.

“Say it right.”

“I’m a dumb, horny bro toy. My cock ain’t mine. My brain ain’t mine. I belong to the team.”

My voice was deeper. Slower. Thicker. My jaw felt stronger. My tongue… hungrier.

He unzipped. “Then prove it.”

I opened wide. His dick was soaked in sweat, thick and veiny. I took it without hesitation. The taste hit me like a drug. salty, hot, claiming. I moaned around it. He spat down into my mouth. I swallowed, instinctively.

Everything went still.

And just like that... I was a jock. Always had been. Friendly. Dumb. Muscular. Trapped. Just another cum dump for the team. Anything for my bros.

With each swing of their racket they became DUMBER. With each pass of the ball they became ROUGHER. Every time the ball bounced up, and down their muscles EXPANDED. Their clothes rip as their eyes lost FOCUS of the game.

They didn't know the court was enchanted. They were just two DUDES doing a few skirmishes. They had no clue that with each passing second they were getting HORNIER. They had no idea what they were craving as their mouths and holes yearned for something to fill. All it took was one pose in front of the net squatting for BRO to drop his shorts.

All it takes is one new COCK to make you a slut for em. I love making campus gayer.