Ben Hovered Outside The Corner Shop, Fidgeting With His Hoodie Strings. Today Felt Different, Charged

Ben hovered outside the corner shop, fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Today felt different, charged with a strange energy he couldn’t quite place.

Ben Hovered Outside The Corner Shop, Fidgeting With His Hoodie Strings. Today Felt Different, Charged

His mate, Jake, swaggered over, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Oi, Ben, you ever tried one of these?” Jake handed him a tightly rolled blunt, its scent tingling Ben’s senses with its earthy pungency. Without thinking, Ben took it, his hand trembling slightly.

As he took a cautious puff, the world around him blurred and intensified. Heat surged through his veins, each heartbeat echoing like a drum. His skin tingled, every cell buzzing with potential.

His frame began to shift, stretching and expanding. Arms that were once skinny swelled with surprising heft, his chest broadening under the fabric of his hoodie. It clung snugly to his developing form, showcasing the transformation. Abs rippled with newfound strength, pressing tight against his joggers.

A wave of musk enveloped him, a heady mix of sweat and raw masculinity, intoxicating in its intensity. Rather than shying away, Ben inhaled deeply, savoring every note.

Beneath his waistband, he felt an exhilarating pressure. His cock and balls swelled, growing heavier and more prominent, a throbbing force that demanded his attention. Every pulse was a declaration of his new, potent vitality.

With each drag of the blunt, his thoughts shifted. Homework? Video games? Nah, that wasn’t him. His head buzzed with new urges. Partying, pulling, living large in the open air where anyone could see him. Every sensation turned him on, amplifying his raw, untamed energy.

Ben Hovered Outside The Corner Shop, Fidgeting With His Hoodie Strings. Today Felt Different, Charged

Ben’s tongue darted out, tasting the air, an involuntary smirk curling his lips. No longer the timid boy hiding in the shadows, he was a king of the street, hot, dumb, and ready for action.

His hoodie hung open, proudly displaying his chiseled torso, the chilly breeze licking across his skin as he strutted forward. Each step sent pleasurable tingles, every sway exuding confidence and power.

"Yo, Jake, got another blunt?" he quipped, his voice a deep drawl, laden with mischief.

Not waiting for an answer, Ben leaned in closer, eyes sparking with desire and authority. Boldly, he pulled Jake in by the collar for a lingering snog, his hands exploring with a firm, commanding grip.

Ben Hovered Outside The Corner Shop, Fidgeting With His Hoodie Strings. Today Felt Different, Charged

Breaking the kiss, he whispered with a smirk, "Let's have some fun, yeah?" His tone brooked no argument, the kingly chav ready to claim the night.

More Posts from Archerprice and Others

7 months ago

We're not that kind of guy.

All I asked was what you were planning on doing tonight?

You say you're too busy for that kind of thing? You have classes? Looks to me like you both are too relaxed to be the kind of people who have anywhere important to be.

But you say you're too average for a guy like me? I disagree. You both seem to have some muscle on you, don't sell yourselves short.

But you're too insecure? That's just a state of mind, but I see two guys who live for attention. Yeah, see you're getting it—you gotta show off those muscles.

We're Not That Kind Of Guy.

But you're just not into guys? I don't believe that for a second. Frankly, you're too dumb to care about that. I'm here, and I want you. Seems like your the kind of guy who's seeking a good time from whoever is available.

That's good. It turns out you are the kind of guy I'm looking for.


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9 months ago

Branding night

Hey 

so this took me a long time to finish, its the longest I’ve written. This story is inspired by Dumb and jocked’s story “Branded”, which I absolutely loved

Enjoy reading

Rozza   

———————————————–

“Ugh, how long until we get into this stupid event?” moaned Edward.

“Don’t worry Eddie, it won’t be that long,” replied George trying to calm down his irritated friend. The two were part of a bigger group of five nerds who were waiting in multiple lines to enter some stupid event. The group came about after they were put together in temporary student housing at the college. 

Eddie had spent a lot on this college and, so far it had only disappointed him. Day one and he was given a random group to live with for a week, luckily for him, they were all nerds and, they got on. However, afterwards, they all found out that this college was not as they had perceived it. Blackwater University was supposed to be one of the top Science unis in the country, with spacious labs for chemistry, a library so great it could rival that of the ancient ones, and professional scientists to help guide them to achieve the best results. As it turned out, this was mostly a lie. There were labs and a library, but not as big as they were expecting. Hopefully, the teachers would be better. But what made them feel more uncomfortable was the amount of high-end sport and gym equipment. The place seemed to be some kind of sports college rather than a science one. There were jocks everywhere, and they influenced everything here. 

The jocks had such an influence on the campus culture they were allowed to organise mandatory special days, which overrode all classes and outings, like the one they were waiting for now. 

It was a freshman event organised by the multiple frats on campus. The Patriots, Phoenix fighters, and The American Wolves were the most popular, but there were at least ten others around.

Keep reading


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7 months ago

The Only Man He Could Ever Love

No doubt, my roommate was an odd one. Oh, he was a typical jock of course. He was in the gym several days a week, constantly drinking protein shakes, smelled of sweat and funk more often than not, and generally left the place a cluttered disgusting mess if not for the parade of chicks he had over, forcing him to tidy up a little for their benefit. To say Jason was a pig was probably putting it mildly. At least he wasn’t abusive or overly rude beyond typical frat boy toilet humor, so I was able to put up with his more crude behavior and habits a little better than I would have otherwise.

We’d been living together in this small dorm room for a few months now. Neither of us really wanted to live with someone else. I preferred my privacy, and Jason preferred more space to himself. But somehow, we made it work. Being bi (but still in the closet), I didn’t have as many hookups as Jason, preferring to date, but not really finding anyone at this school worth dating, male or female. Plus, I was too embarrassed to bring a girl back to our room. One, because it was usually a mess and smelled terrible, and two, because inevitably, Jason would somehow charm the girl into his own bed shortly after I started dating a girl, just to dump her later as per usual – as happened when we first started living together. So lesson learned on that one.

Oh well, it is what it is, and Jason is who he is. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t particularly like him much either, I just tolerated him. And that seemed to be how things would go from now on – until one night I woke up, drunk, and in Jason’s bed. No… it’s not what you think, but in some ways, maybe it was actually stranger than you’re thinking.

“Hey bro, wake up.” I heard a voice call me from my slumber. It wasn’t Jason’s voice though… It was my voice! Certain I was dreaming, I tried to will myself awake, “Dude, you’re not dreaming.” my twin explained, “I switched our bodies, I want to try something.”

I humored Jason as he explained he was wasted at a local bar after a late night gym session. He tried to pick up some chicks, but they all turned him down. Drunk and bummed, he returned to our dorm and figured, his roommate is asleep and he was horny as fuck, he wanted to see if he could get lucky with me.

“But I ain’t gay,” he explained, “And there’s only one man I’d ever love, and that’s me.” he said with a chuckle. “So that’s why you got my body now, and I want to see what it’s like, you know, to make out and do stuff with, well, myself.”

And that’s how we got where we are. It only lasted for the evening, but we ended up doing it again several more times after that. Mainly him worshiping his own stinky gym-worked body, but sometimes sucking his own dick (which he really liked and was actually really good at) and one time, he let me fuck him with his own cock. I really enjoyed that, though we haven’t done it since then and he’s too afraid to try fucking his own ass.

Oh well. I’ll take what I can get.

========== Want to read more of my stories, including longer stories exclusive only to my supporters? Check my pinned post on my Tumblr page for how you can sign up via PayPal or CashApp to access my content - Starting at only $5/mo!


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10 months ago
The University Was Clearly Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel When They Paired You Up With Your Jock Of
The University Was Clearly Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel When They Paired You Up With Your Jock Of

The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The University Was Clearly Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel When They Paired You Up With Your Jock Of
The University Was Clearly Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel When They Paired You Up With Your Jock Of

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.


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7 months ago

Hey Support!

My roommate just used your product, and turned himself in to a sweaty, smelly mess of a bodybuilder that’s always bloated. His stench is stinking up the whole place! Is there anyway you can help me? I’m at my last straw!

Don't worry, I am the support, I am here to help. Lie down on your bed and breathe deeply! Fuck, your roommate's fart was a good one! Keep breathing in and out. Concentrate on your belly. And now let everything go. And fart out your anger at your roommate from your belly.

The next morning it will be much better. At least you won't notice the stench in your room anymore. Your roommate is already at the gym. It's not your thing. But you could go for a run. There should be socks and running shorts somewhere in the dirty laundry pile. They belonged to your roommate before his muscles exploded. Now they're perfect for your lean body. You don't need a shirt for running. And no showers after the run either. It's a warm day today anyway, so you'll be sweaty again at some point.

Normally you don't sit next to your roommate in the lectures anymore. Nobody wanted to sit next to him anymore. But today you see him and you just have to sit next to him. You greet each other with fist and chest bump. He tells you that you look good. You tell him he stinks like a football team after practice. He lets you smell his wet armpit. You get a boner. In your running shorts. Anyway, everyone should see your magnificent cock.

Hey Support!

The next morning you let your roommate talk you into going to the gym. On the way there you make competitive farts in the car. Fuck, against the protein farts of your roommate you have no chance. So you desperately need a protein shake. Yes, your farts are getting better. But like muscles, there's still a long way to go before you catch up to your roommate.

After the training you check the result in the mirror. The mullet is coming along nicely. Like your beard and the hair in your armpits. Your roommate farts. You send an echo. Real gym bros understand each other without words.

Hey Support!

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8 months ago

Will you be my Valentine?

I know it’s not Valentine’s day but I got a burst of inspiration so here’s a story, if tumblr takes this down (fingers crossed it doesn’t) i’ll post a blogspot link later. cheers :)

Will You Be My Valentine?

“Melanie, I think we need to break up.”

Quiet heads turned to observe the couple, a few whispers shared, before they went back to minding their business. The young woman sat there, shell-shocked, not really what she was expecting to hear from her boyfriend on their 5-year anniversary. “I-I’m sorry what?”

Her boyfriend looked at her apologetically, his eyes beginning to water as his voice started to break. “It’s just…fuck how do I say this. Melanie, I’m gay.”

Melanie sat solemnly and silently, staring blankly as she watched her boyfriend struggle. She could feel each thump of her own heart and the blood in her veins freezing over with ice.

“You’re…” Melanie shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows, as her body had a physical reaction to even imagining the possibility, “…gay?”

There was a long pause of silence between the couple, neither able to look each other in the eye without bursting into tears of guilt or anger.

“Yes.”

Melanie glanced at her boyfriend with hurt seeping through her misty eyes, in that moment, she could remember everything. She remembered meeting him the first day she moved to their city in elementary school. As they grew up right next to each other, he turned out as the rich, popular playboy jock and her the sweet girl-next-door. Finally, after years of waiting and her being secretly in love with him, he asked her out junior year of High School. She remembered all of their dates, night’s of sneaking out, and even prom; she could still smell his cologne on the wind from when they held each other tight and swayed to the music. They were the high school sweethearts, and now, she knew all of it was a lie.

“Are you mad at me?” Her boyfriend had tears rolling down his face at this point, his heart thumping with guilt, anxiety, and so much relief as the secret he had held for so long had finally been released.

Melanie felt more than anger, she felt used, cheated, lied to, manipulated, all while her boyfriend feigned his heterosexuality. But she knew, even through all that, she had never loved anyone more than she loved him. For years, she believed they were soulmates and that destiny had allowed her to meet him so early. They were neighbors, they liked the same things, they even got into the same college! Yet now, she felt betrayed by not only her lover but the entire universe itself. “Was any of it…real?”

“Fuck Mel! Of course it was real! You mean everything to me, every single ‘I love you’ and every moment we shared, it was all real. I do love you Melanie…” Her eyes sparkled at the words, part of her brain praying that this was all some cruel joke or fever dream. “…but I know that I would be so much happier loving another man.”

Her heart sunk into her chest once again, the hope taken as soon as it was given. She glanced around the restaurant, tears welled in her eyes as she tried to distract her mind with the expensive scenery. Silver chandeliers brimmed with jewels dangled from the ceiling, gold framed paintings filled the walls, and even the ambiance felt like it costed an arm and a leg. Bradley had booked the most expensive restaurant he knew, it was their 5-year anniversary after all, why not go all out? If anything, Melanie had expected Bradley to have pulled out a ring tonight. Alas, it was already 12 am and the clock almost seemed to tick quicker as seconds until she had to surface back to reality counted down.

Bradley, a little hesitant to open his mouth again, took in a deep breath and tried to explain himself, “I understand that you probably hate me now and I know that I should never have let this go on for so long, but I was too scared to ever hurt you. I tried so hard to stay in love with you, I even fucking watched lesbian porn just to try and force myself to be straight but every single time my eyes couldn’t help but think about two guys instead. I just couldn’t keep up this fucking act, I’ve been hiding behind you for so long and to be completely honest, I fell in love with someone. I think I finally want to be free.”

Melanie’s eyes widened in fury at that last part. “Free Brad? Really? Free? Is that what we were to you? A prison? Something so suffocating that you needed to escape from it? I will always love and support you, no matter what, but don’t act like I am the reason we couldn’t work out. While I was busy preparing us for the rest of our lives together, you were jerking your dick to some other guy? Goodbye Bradley, I never want see you again.”

With that closing statement, Melanie stood up from her chair, grabbed her purse, and strode out of the restaurant without a glance back at the person she had loved for 5 years. Bradley sat there, lost in his thoughts and his heart full of guilt, not a sound left his lips. He kept his eyes to the ground, without looking up to see the person he had loved for 5 years leaving his life.

“BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BA-”

The 21 year old woman groaned as stretched her arm across her bed and grabbed her phone, pressing snooze on her newly-set, 11:30 A.M. alarm and giving herself a few more moments of rest. After a minute or two, she slowly opened her eyes and adjusted to the light in her room. She could taste the warmth of the morning sun streaming through her curtains, filling her with just enough energy to sit up in her bed.

“Woo, okay Melanie, you got this! Just pull yourself together,” she spoke aloud, mentally preparing herself for the rest of the day. Checking her phone again, she turned off her alarm and swiped through her notifications. “February 14th, just great…” Today was going to be an especially rough day for her, but she had a plan for herself. Melanie took in a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the fresh morning atmosphere and exhaled her bad energy out. Valentine’s Day was going to be a day for her and only her.

It had been exactly 3 weeks since the ex-High school sweetheart’s anniversary and Melanie felt lonelier than ever. Though she kept a front to her friends, saying that he was ‘wasted 5 years of her life’ and that ‘he’s a good-for-nothing cheater,’ deep down she knew she missed him more than she could ever tell.

Without Bradley, her life had been a complete mess the last few weeks. She had been so used to his huge body’s warmth in their queen sized bed, now it felt so cold and empty. She no longer awoke to the sound of Brad blending his protein shake in the morning, causing her to wake up late to class. Her entire world felt unbalanced, as if it were off it’s axis, and she was nauseous from the vertigo.

Melanie knew that she had the right to furious at him and that everything she said was true but no matter what she did, she could not stop thinking about him. Having him for long, she was almost unable to live without him, and as the unbearable longing she had felt grew larger and larger, the more she felt like she needed to make amends with her jock of an ex.

Alas, today was not going to be that day. Making up with your ex-boyfriend on Valentine’s Day? Not the greatest decision, especially if he’s moved on to someone else, more specifically, another man.

Melanie knew that today needed to be a day to focus on herself, which meant cleaning up her mess of a life. Namely her depression room, which had accumulated it’s ‘depression’ over the past few weeks. Tear-dried tissues scattered her floor along with unwashed clothes and a lingering scent of sadness. Her closet was in such a state of disarray that Melanie dreaded the idea of even touching it but she knew she had to.

With a sigh, Melanie began with her closet, hanging up clothes, tossing them in her hamper, and organizing her accessories. As she searched through her closet, she came across a very special antique necklace, one that she was not only very surprised but very unhappy to find. “Shit. It just had to be today huh?”

Melanie had found the necklace Bradley had given her on their 1st-year anniversary. He told her it was an antique family heirloom, and that it was meant to be given to the woman of the next generation. He had said that his great-great-great-grandmother had first been gifted the amulet by her husband and she passed it down to her daughter, and then through each generation, it had wound up all the way to Bradley’s mother, and then finally to Melanie. He had explained to her that the silver chain was symbolic of the unbreaking bond between the woman and her love and the black pearl represented his family and the magic; strength, riches, and mystery. Although this could have had all been a lie spun by him, which Melanie realized now that it wasn’t out of the question, his family was loaded-rich and seemed like the “wealthy heirloom passing lineage” type to do carry on a tradition of the sort.

Melanie sighed, she had lost the pendant a year ago and sobbed uncontrollably when she apologized to Bradley. She remembered how he smiled and comforted her instead of getting, understandably, angry and yelling at her. Instead Bradley took her to his couch and hugged her, caressing Melanie on the back as she cried into his shirt, whispering that it was okay. Melanie caressed her arm, reminiscing on the memory of him and her being so close together.

Melanie got up and walked over to her mirror, looking into it as she held the necklace in front of her. She studied it intently, tracing her finger along its silver chain and the black pearl center piece. She sighed, it was breathtaking. With a shrug, Melanie let her intrusive thoughts take over as she unclipped it and placed it around her neck. As she locked the clasp around her neck, Melanie let out a soft gasp as she viewed herself, the pendant was stunning and it felt so perfect for her form. It didn’t feel cold like her normal jewelry did, it felt almost alive, as if it were radiating this warm energy and filling her with an exuberant confidence.

As much as Melanie knew that she could keep it for herself or even make thousands off of the necklace, if it turned out to be real of course, having a reason to reach out to Bradley and make amends was all she truly desired inside.

With a deep sigh, she grabbed her phone and opened it up to her messages. After a bit of scrolling, she found Bradley’s contact. She laughed to herself, remembering how she so angrily changed his name from “Soulmate” to “Cheating Bastard” the night they broke up. Taking in a deep breath, her heart fluttered and her fingers were shaky. She convinced herself it wasn’t weird to text your ex on Valentine’s Day at all when there’s a reason such as returning a precious, and expensive, family heirloom back to it’s rightful owners. It was the moral thing to do.

Though nervous, she began to type out a simple and quick message, just short to the point:

Hey Bradley, I know this seems like a really weird text to get all of a sudden but funny story, so I found your family heirloom necklace while I was cleaning my closet and I wanted to return it since you told me how important it is. Haha weirdly enough I cleaned my closet today to get my mind off of you because I’ve been kind of missing you lately and-

“Yeah no,” Melanie scoffed, completely erasing the paragraph she had already typed out. Melanie put her phone down and tried formulating her thoughts. After a little bit, Melanie began typing again but the second message was soon to be erased. Then the cycle repeated itself for a third instance, then a fourth, and finally a fifth, each time diminishing her willpower to even text him.

“God why can’t this just be easy for me!” Melanie yelled aloud in frustration, tossing her phone to the side. However as she spoke those words, she felt a wave of energy release from her neck, but more specifically, from the pendant. She looked down in curiosity and slight shock, “What the hell?”

Almost simultaneously, her phone chimed and the warmth emanating off the necklace stopped. A little in shock, she dismissed the occurrence as an effect of her not having any breakfast yet. Melanie shook her head, steadied herself, and checked her phone. What she read on her screen was far more surprising than whatever the hell happened with the necklace. It was a text from Bradley:

Yo Mel I know this is a kinda weird text for u to get from me today but I think we needa talk. It’s been hella weird not being around you & I miss you (not romantically ofc) but I still don’t want you to disappear from my life. It’s Brad incase you deleted my number lmao

Melanie’s heart was beating like crazy, what the hell is that timing? She brushed the necklace with her fingertips, a bit freaked out at the sheer coincidence of her situation. She gulped and, a bit too quickly, she replied:

Haha funny story, I found your family’s necklace in my closet while I was cleaning just now and was about to text you so I could return it. How’s my place @ 1:30?

Her heart palpitated as she saw his grey chat box with the three dots pop up almost instantly. Brad texted back:

Alr c u then

Mel’s heart skipped a beat, she tossed her phone away, a little unable to come to terms with what she had just done. “RRRGGGGGHHH WHY DID YOU INVITE HIM HERE?!” She groaned frustratingly at herself, drained by her whole situation.

After calming herself down, she checked her phone again and realized it was already 12:30. She had exactly an hour to become presentable for her ex-boyfriend and currently, she looked like she hadn’t showered in weeks. Taking one last look in mirror, she sighed “What’s wrong with you Mel? Why do you still feel this way for that cheating asshole?” She sighed, a moment of silence created as only one, single thought raced throughout her mind. Pensive and a bit distraught, her hand instinctively reached to touch the black pearl amulet as she envisioned all of her most cherished memories with Brad. With an exasperated desire on her lips, she confessed aloud, “I wish that he was in love with me.”

Mel felt a bit at ease now that she was finally able to be honest about her feelings. Along with that relief, also came the same familiar warmth from before, however this time it felt much stronger and it was far more obvious about its source, the black pearl. The foreign energy quickly flowed into her entire body. Like a crescendo, the heat emanating from the necklace became more powerful by the second, until finally it felt like it was burning her neck. She gasped, quickly grabbing the necklace only for it to sear her palm. “Shit!” she cursed, attempting to unclasp the necklace proved to be futile as even touching in the slightest burned her fingertips. She tried pulling it off but the silver chain felt almost indestructible. She yanked and tugged to no avail, the family story of the unbreakable chain proving to be true after all. Mel could feel the energy had finally filled her form, even some overflowing into the room around her.

Melanie tried to steady her breathing as her mind raced with thoughts. Her head pounded and sweat dripped from her face as the world began to spin around her. She leaned against her apartment’s wall, her mind woozy and her stomach completely nauseous. Her skin was tingly to the touch and with each passing second her body felt more and more malleable. As the fervor continued to consume her, she ripped out of her clothes with caveman like grunts and stumbled to her bathroom.

“What *pant* the hell *pant* is happening *pant* to me?”

She burst through the bathroom door, her vertigo becoming even worse as the world continued to spin around her. She took a quick look into her bathroom mirror but she couldn’t see anything. Her ocean blue eyes were bloodshot but through the red blur, she could almost see a different body in her reflection. The form seemed thicker and far taller than she remembered herself being. Mel shook her head and took another second to breath, hunching over and placing her hands on her knees. Her hairless legs felt longer and her head felt a lot higher. Blaming it on the nausea, she kicked down the shower door, turned it on, and stood under the freezing cold water. She could feel the energy and vertigo from the necklace fading as the water washed it away. She let out a slight moan, a wave of relief washing over her body. Melanie had completely forgotten about the heirloom pendant clasped around her neck, still working it’s wishing magic. The black pearl began to glow as her more supernatural changes started to flow in.

Running her hands through her own hair, she could feel it begin to fall out as her shoulder length locks shortened to a boyish cut, fluffy on top and her sides cut down. Melanie felt her skin, it was sensitive with tingles rushing down her body with every touch. “God this feels so good,” she moaned as she began caressing her body, running her hands across her frame. It felt electrifying, the thermal shock between the heat and the icy stream flooded her brain as she grew increasingly more horny. She could feel a surge in masculinity, testosterone flooding her veins, involuntarily causing her to flex her thin arms. A side effect of the testosterone rush, as she flexed, body hair began to sprout ferociously across her body; in her pubic area, over her asscheeks, and even in her damp armpits. Miraculously, as she flexed her biceps, they began to expand and balloon with size, veins popping out one by one to further create her perfectly sculpted ‘ceps she had worked so hard for at the gym. She grinned, admiring her own biceps before looking down at the rest of her body. “My boobs are so fuckin’ huge bro!” Massaging her chest, she fondled her above average size tits until they began to deflate and harden. Mel bit her lip, suppressing her moans as she pinched her nipples, causing them to shrink into more sensitive male-seeming ones. As she snaked her right hand all the way down to her pussy, each row of abs she had worked for began to pop out of her torso, one by one, until her washboard 6 pack were revealed through her slowly-tanning skin. Reaching her pussy, she began to play around with her clit, causing it to start to enlarging as she unknowingly molded herself a new sex organ. Mel grasped the growing nub, tugging it further and further unconscious to the changed occurring to her own body. Rub after rub, she pulled her new cock until it grew to about 7.5 inches of length and squeezed it like an almost empty toothpaste bottle until it reached about 5 inches of girth. “God, look at this monster!” The water running down her lower body began to erode her smooth lady legs with runner’s calves and meaty thighs. Her feet enlarged into giant scuba diving flippers, growing from a size 8 in women’s to an absurd size 13 in men’s. Completely enveloped in her own heat she groped her own ass, cupping it and forming it into her ideal bubble butt, perfect for her boyfriend to eat out.

“Fuck, Brad!” she moaned as she thought of her boyfriend. All she could imagine was his thick cock coursing into her ass, violating her and making her his own. She looked up and rolled her eyes in pure ecstasy as she jerked her newly formed cock to the thought of Brad turning her into his slut. As she finally blew her full load, shooting it all against the shower’s wall, the final memories of Melanie left her mind as reality warped, the changes set to stone, and her wish came true.

Will You Be My Valentine?
Will You Be My Valentine?

Catching his breath, Maverick opened his shower door exited his steamy session. Wrapping a towel around his waist he massaged his now limp dick over the cloth. He wiped down the water vapor covered mirror and looked at himself in the reflection. “God, I’m so fucking hot bro,” he cooed cockily as he flexed his arms. Maverick could smell the manliness wafting from his rank, unwashed pits, “Whew, looks like I missed a spot, oh well.”

Will You Be My Valentine?

He touched the necklace Bradley had given him a few days ago for his birthday, it was apparently a family heirloom that had some sort of special magic imbued to it. Apparently it made the wearer’s dreams come true and Bradley joked that it was the reason his family was still rich and powerful, but of course, who believes in that bullshit.

*Knock Knock Knock*

Will You Be My Valentine?

Maverick quickly left the bathroom, still only in a towel, and walked to his front door. Through the peephole he could see Bradley, standing behind the door with his hands behind his back. With a loving smile, he opened the door for his boyfriend.

As he stepped through the apartment door, ‘Ricky peered through it to check if anyone saw Brad come inside, then closed it. Bradley whistled, “Damn baby, you look so fucking sexy. I think you should wear this more often.” Brad wrapped one hand around Maverick’s waist and pulled him closer, going in for a quick kiss. Maverick reciprocated, he could hear Brad’s heart beating a thousand miles per hour though his composure seemed to be cool.

Maverick pulled away after the smooch and whispered lustfully, “A little excited huh?”

The playboy smiled, pulling his lover in even closer so continue their kiss. Their tongues crashed with each other like waves against the sand, tasting each other with such passion as if it was their last moment together. Maverick and Bradley moaned, sharing a few ‘mhms’ and ‘nnghs’ here and there as they continued to kiss while walking towards the bedroom. Pulling away, Bradley lowered his lips and began to plant kisses along ‘Ricky’s neck before pausing at his collarbone. “Nice necklace,” Brad mentioned playfully while he traced his fingers across it’s silver chain, “I wonder who gave it to you.”

Maverick was more turned on than ever before as he rubbed his dick-print through the towel. His boner begged for release as they entered the bedroom and finally took a breather. Maverick flopped onto his bed and grinned excitedly at his boyfriend before noticing that Bradley still had something behind his back. “What are you holding babe?”

Bradley laughed as he strode over to his secret lover, “I just wanted to thank you, seriously, for being there for me through my break up, coming out to my closest friends, and like fucking everything else. I still remember when I met you all the way back in freshman year when I walked into our dorm and there you were on the other bed, lifting a weight because you said you were bored. I laughed because I knew, in that moment, you and I would become best bro’s. Through each football season and every night in the working out in the gym together, I secretly fell in love with you more and more every single day. It was so fucking hard thinking that if I confessed to you, I would lose you and my entire life could be ruined, but when I finally got the courage, you wouldn’t believe the surprise on my face when you said that you were in love with me too. Ever since then, my life has felt nothing but right. I know that we only started dating and hooking up a few months ago, but now that Melanie and I are over, I think I want everyone to know how much I love you. So ‘Ricky, do you want to be my Valentine?” Bradley pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

‘Ricky’s heart fluttered. Even through all of his hook-ups, short-lived-relationships, and one night stands, both male and female, there was no one he loved more than Bradley. In fact, it felt like they had known each other since they were kids. He took one last look at himself in his bedroom mirror, the same one he was standing at in a completely different body just an hour ago. Maverick smiled, looked back at his soulmate and sealed the spell.

“I love you too.”

Will You Be My Valentine?

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9 months ago

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.

Possession Isn't Easy. The Act Requires Strong Emotion To Fuel The Take-over. At Long Last, I Was Able

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8 months ago

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**
**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**
**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

**Riding A New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

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8 months ago
I Got Some Dirty Motocross Boots On My Doorstep Today With A Note From Coach: "Great Job On The Track,

I got some dirty motocross boots on my doorstep today with a note from Coach: "Great job on the track, here's a pair of my lucky boots." I I don't know how to feel about a used pair of boots, but Coach is always looking out for me. He knows I go through my gear quickly and these boots are a huge upgrade from my current pair. As the star motocross rider for his racing team, I'm not surprised he wants to show me some love. Some on the team joke he gives me more attention because they think he's crushing on me. That's all jealous bullshit I pay no mind to. Coach knows I don't swing that way.

I walk out to my garage to try on the boots. They're definitely a few sizes too big. Coach is a bigger guy, and I don't see how I could wear these for my next race. I slide into the boots and there's quite a bit of space in them.

"How do you like the new boots?" I look up to see Coach standing in my garage with a smile on his face.

I Got Some Dirty Motocross Boots On My Doorstep Today With A Note From Coach: "Great Job On The Track,

He's never showed up at my place before. I'm more concerned how he found his way here, but feel a little inferior standing in his much bigger boots.

"I just tried them on. Thanks so much man, but they feel a little big on me."

"I expected that, but I have some more stuff for you that might help. Figured I'd drop it off personally." He pulls out a pair of bike pants covered in a layer of dirt. "These may be a bit bigger on you, but try them on. They're my special pair and I've had some great rides in them."

Maybe he's on to something I'm not seeing and this is a learning moment. I slide out of the boots and my jeans to slip on his pants. Just like boots they're hanging off me. I try to slip the boots on the boots again. Maybe the pants will fill in the boots some.

"Uhm, I don't know man. They may get caught up in the bike."

Just after I said it, I start to feel a growing surge of energy coming up through the soles of my feet. It's like static electricity tingling all around them. My feet are beginning to pulse and stretch out to fill in the boots. It feels like someone's massaging them and they're really starting to mold to the boots. My feet must now be a size 13!

The static is moving up my legs and I'm overwhelmed with pleasure. I stifle a moan as they begin to inflate my calves and quads. The pants are closing in and the cloth is now hugging me.

"Of fuckkkk" I'm feeling my ass bubble and fill out the back of the pants. My crotch has lightning running through my dick and I feel it begin to bulge and swell. I'm so fucking horny and look up to see Coach. He's got a smirk on his face and there's something really intriguing about him. I steady myself by leaning on my bike as I'm taking in all of his features. I'm seeing him through a new light and he's actually pretty fucking hot.

What would it feel like if he brushed up against me? Why am I thinking this? Oh fuck there's a jolt of lightning going through my ass. My hole is throbbing with energy and I'm breathing heavy like I'm an animal in heat. I slide the pants down to my ankles and push out my ass. Maybe he'll help a guy out.

I Got Some Dirty Motocross Boots On My Doorstep Today With A Note From Coach: "Great Job On The Track,

He walks up and slides his hands down my boxers to find my hole. I find myself leaning back into his chest and let out a guttural moan as he slides his finger into me. I have pre flowing out of my dick as he begins to rub my prostate from the inside. He's got me hooked, and I'm completely under his control. He leans in and whispers into my ear "Prepare for the best ride of your life."


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