Another Favorite

Civilian Casualties

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2020-02-21 ---

It was my first day as a solider if the United States Marine Corps. The corps was drafting preds, for different reasons like, interrogation, war, and secret projects that are Classified. You would be surprised what a guy will give up when he half way down ur cock, ass, or throat. Anyway, I was hand selected by the corps because I was a pred and a damn fine one at that I had the unique ability to vore a guy no matter the size and remain unchanged, by appearance. There would be no sign of anyone either in my balls gut or up my ass. This was a secret project and only top officials and the preds new of the project. I am young though and sometimes I endulge myself. We were only allow to vore certian guys but not me, I thought that they would never know I took a few of our own guys or too some civilians. It's wrong I know, but I can't help it and plus I love it. We were on base and the base did tours cuz there was a museum on base. Me and my group had just finished taking pictures and we all went to the museum to have fun and see all the cool stuff there. We walked in the museum and we had fun looking at everything, we had permission to get up and close to the stuff and even touch some of the stuff. As we got more and more into the museum, we can into the hanger that was built on the side of the museum that held all the big badass stuff like planes and helicopters, anti aircraft guns and tanks. There was their big anti aircraft gun that we saw and one of my bubbies told me to go up there and sit in the seat. I said alright sure and jumped up and sat in it. I put my hands on the lever and felt the power.

The engineering that went into the design of this massive gun that was for taking down planes and piercing armor. My bubbly took my picture and I looked through the sight and played with it, moving it around until I pass over this guy. I turned the lever back toward him and stoped it there. I looked at him and he was watching us, I could tell he was I tered in me cuz he waved and blushed when I waved back. I got off the gun and told my friend I had to go to the bathroom and went up stairs to where he was. I stopped In front of him and stuck out my hand and said "Hi my name is Trevor, what's urs" he shook my hand and said "I'm Corey it's a pleasure to meet you" his voice cracked and I could tell he had a crush on me. He was a in town on business he told me and and I asked what business. He said "you might find this weirdo but I have abilities, I can transform people into inanimate objects." Shocked and intrigued I said," that's awesome man, but that's not weird. I'm a pred, I can swallow people with out leaving a trace of them in me." His face lit up like a red balloon. He said that's awesome, and that he's never met a actual pred before but he's heard about them. He then asked me," you know I have always been curious about ur type, how does it work Trevor? How can u swallow and entire man." I could tell he wanted in me although he was on a "business trip". I told him I'll show you and told him to follow me in the bathroom. We both got in and I looked to see if anyone was in there and didn't see anyone. I closed the door and locked it behind us. I told him" you want to see don't you? You want to see my mouth and the back of my throat, I can see in in ur eyes." Corey look me in the eyes and said " YES, OK I want you to vore me, I've been following u all day. Waiting for you to notice me." I smirked and said "wish granted" I walked up to Corey and pushed him to his knees and fished out my cock, it was already hard from my prey submitting to me. Something about willing prey really gets me going. He grabbed my cock and took over and began sucking on my cock. He was really good at this and he knew he was. He looked up at me with those cute eyes as I forced his head to take all of my cock. He gaged but only once, as he was sucking me off, I thought I heard the door but new it was locked. I freaked when a big hot muscled security guard unlocked it and said " What THE FUCK are you two doing." I freaked as he came towards us Corey simply snapped his fingers and the security guard was gone and all that remained was a pair of blue and grey underwear.

So he was telling the truth I thought this sent me over and I shot my load up and into his mouth. He got up off his knees and kissed me forcing all my cum into my mouth and then we kissed for awhile until I forced it back into his and swallowed it. It was turn so I asked him if he was sure about this and he just shook his head yes. I opened my mouth and he was mesmerized by my mouth and the back of my throat. I looked at him and winked as my mouth surrounded his face and my jaw stretched over his face and over his head. His whole head was in my throat and he loved it. I could see his bulge in his underwear explod as he bested more and more of mouth. His underwear was stained with cum as his head beater my throat. I can only imagine the thought of it all, his head must have been soaking wet from my warm saliva. My muscles throat must feel so good as he slides deeper and deeper into me. My mouth stretched over his shoulders and the rest of him was easy. I put his arms to his side and grabbed him and pulled him more and more into my body. At this point t he was up to his belly bottom so I lifters him up and let gravity due it's thing. He slowly slide down my throat I could feel every movement every muscle he had. His bulge and ass went in and I could taste his salty cum as I like it all around. He entered my stomach and started to curl up in a ball when I grabbed his feet and pushed them the rest of the way. One last swallow and he was gone. He slide down and curled into a ball in my stomach and thanked me for it. He said it was the best experience of his life, but then asked me when he was gonna. Be let out. I laughed and said" it's a one way trip Corey, u really didn't think u were going to experience it and be let out did u ahha" he freaked and thrashed about in my stomach yelling," YOU BASTARD I TRUSTED YOU, I DONT WANT DIE IN UR GUT... WHAT ABOUT MY MEETIBG TOMORROW WITHA CLIENT" I laughed at the realization that he was never going to be let out. I looked in the mirror and there was no bulge no sign of Corey anywhere. I was about to walk out when I say the underwear that was once a security guard. I striped and slide him on, they were comfortable and was contented cuz I wasn't wearing underwear. I needed to do laundry lol, I rubbed my junk all in the pouch which I assumed was his face. The underwear responded by tightening around my ass and cock like he liked it. I laughed and met up with my friends, we were all going to the beach so I got changed and we went out. Poor poor Corey, I rubbed as I went out on the beach. I hope I don't have a cramp while I'm in the water. I did just eat I thought I my self. But shrugged it off as I farted toward the water and jumped in. This was the last pic I took of me before Corey completely went away. Can't even seen him haha.

Heyy, i have a resquest, hope you like it:

What if a very bad, punk guy from an average college has a really Bad demeanor and is always causing trouble, so he gets transferred to a re-education that supposedly turns you into the perfect preppy boy, where forced by his preppy colleagues he gets his attitude adjusted?

It was Lucas's first time on the Davidson College campus and his first night of an after-hours "attitude adjustment" class. His ratty backpack bounced on his lithe shoulders as he approached the classroom while the other students sneered under their breaths, all heading to their dorms and homes for the evening. Lucas's ratty leather jacket, jeans, and weathered boots couldn't have stood out more harshly against the sea of button-down shirts, sweaters, shorts, chinos, and boat shoes.

Liberal arts was his major, and he was good at it - well, he would have been if he'd put in any academic effort. But to Lucas, papers, essays, and exams were all a power structure to rally against. Four years into a three-year degree, and sick of the disobedience and attitude, his college gave him an ultimatum: leave for good, or take the adjustment course at Davidson, which was a college known in academic circles for its snobby preppiness, but also its eerily successful adjustment program.

Lucas's parents certainly didn't want an unemployed, moody twenty-three-year-old back in their house, and the college was all he had. So the choice was all but made for him. He was to take the class at Davidson and lose the attitude.

Eyes toward his feet, Lucas slinked into the classroom only to run head-first into a cashmere sweater. Lucas looked up at the man who stood a head taller than him and found himself flanked by two other similar-looking students. All three men stood two to three inches taller than the five-ten Lucas, all wore their hair in similar parts, and all wore typical, semi-formal prep clothing. Another three cogs in the machine at the Davidson, Lucas thought to himself.

"You know, I don't exactly want to be here. Get outta my way and the quicker I get out off your snotty campus," Lucas stated plainly.

"Oh we know, Lucas," the middle frat boy snickered.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, how did these nimrods know his name? He also knew that despite his disregard for these types of preppy bros that he wouldn't stand a chance against one of them in a fight, let alone three. "Look, guys, I just gotta do this course, then I'm gone."

"And why do you think we're here?" said the man to Lucas's left.

"We're your instructors," chimed the third of the trio.

"Let's get started," the leader said, grabbing Lucas by the collar and pushing him to the wall. "Alright boys, you know what to do."

Lucas struggled against the large hands pinning him down while one of the others held a clear bottle in front of his face and sprayed it three times.

"Get the fuck off me, asshole!" he screamed, attempting and failing to land a lunch as the preppy jock loosened his grip.

"Not so fucking smart now are you?" the preppy student sneered at the defenseless punk who was coughing from inhaling whatever it was the group had sprayed in his face. Not only did the admittedly pleasant scent hang around in his nose, but it was like it permeated him as a whole.

Lucas fell to his knees, his head spinning. The smell in the air was so... masculine, enough to turn on even the straightest man or puritan prude.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" the main jock chuckled.

"Ah... ach... what did you do to me?" Lucas spluttered, rolling his neck.

The trio of preppy frat boys wasted no time hoisting the incapacitated Lucas into a chair, tying his limp hands at the back and switching on the projector screen at the front of the room.

Lucas coughed, unable to get the scent out of his airway. He struggled against the rope holding him to the chair, watching helplessly as the image of a black and white spiral flashed onto the backdrop ahead.

"You assholes just wait, when I get out of here I'm... gonna... gonna... I..."

All it took was a glimpse for Lucas to become slackjawed and glued to the screen, unable to continue with his useless verbal threat. The preppy men began to take turns making hypnotic commands.

"You want to be a preppy college stud."

"No, please... I don't want to be..." Lucas mumbled, almost drooling as he gazed at the spiral, feeling the mixture of the jocks' words and the substance they'd sprayed him with mingling in his head.

"You want to be like us. You don't wanna do any of that useless liberal arts shit anymore. Finance, law, engineering... real work, take your pick, that's what you wanna do."

"Finance... yeah... just like dad..." Lucas could feel his philosophical smarts draining away, replaced with business savvy and a desire to impress.

"A real prep has to know how to have fun. You wanna party with us, don't you?"

"Yeah... no! No!" Lucas tried to resist, but it was no use. The chemicals and instructions forced open new neural pathways, replacing the old Lucas with a far more extroverted one. "Uh... hell... yeah..."

"Most of all, if you wanna be like us you've gotta look the part, man. You want to look like us. You will look like a preppy frat stud."

It felt like hands were gripping Lucas's body from all directions, pushing, kneading, and tugging. Only seconds later his back cracked loudly. With a long, loud, uninterrupted moan, he arched backward as he began to grow taller. His legs pushed out along the rough carpet and his arms dangled longer at his sides.

To his horror, his jacket and shirt ruffled like they were in a gust of wind, shifting and warping. Lucas shrieked in bliss feeling his rail-thin chest puff outward to fill what was now a button-down shirt while lean abs bubbled to the surface just below.

"No, god... No... what am I... I... I... oooooohhhhhh!"

Another guttural cry echoed off the walls along with a large helping of pre-cum ejecting into Lucas's shifting underwear. His lanky arms pulsated, lean muscles bulging underneath tanning skin towards hands that were popping and jutting out larger across the floor. Sweat ran down his tied arms, dripping off the ends of his twitching, lengthening fingers.

Lucas had almost forgotten that the three preppy studs were still in the room with him, softly pawing at their thick cocks as they watched him become more and more like them.

"Feel good, bro?" one of them whispered, "Doesn't it feel fucking great to become a proper man?"

Lucas could only muster a moan and a nod, too enamored with the bulging muscles growing down his legs and his swelling, perky butt that threatened to ruin his jeans any moment. Those began to change too though, the denim becoming softer, looser, and better fitting shorts that hugged his new bubble butt.

"No, n-, n-, n-..." Lucas murmured in the death throes of his resistance as the changes progressed and took hold of his cock.

With his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open and looking up at the handsome figures towering above, Lucas felt his hard cock stir dramatically in what was now an expensive pair of underwear

"AUUUGH! Fuck yeah!"

His face and head throbbed, his jaw tightening while his cock pulsed heavier and thicker, pre-cum flowing like a fountain against his muscular thigh. Like his cock, the toes in his boots stretched longer, striking the ends of the footwear. The pressure suddenly dropped, however, when the boots themselves shifted in shape and size, becoming a fresh pair of large, size twelve boat shoes. Large soles and long, bony toes tore through the remains of his socks, inching forward to fill the jockish footwear.

At the same time, his cock was running out of room in his pants while at the same time his skull felt like it was being squeezed as it took on a squarer shape. Lucas groaned for mercy through gritted teeth that were becoming straighter and whiter. His nose shrunk cuter, while brown eyes become a striking blue. The messy black hair he'd long worn lightened in tone, combing over neat and handsome.

Before that fateful night, Lucas would have had much to say on how he shrugged off the "shackles" of beauty standards and masculinity. But now... now he knew he was beautiful, he could feel it. The lean, slim muscles and his large, swelling cock oozed masculinity, and he loved it.

The transformed Lucas sat there smiling dumbly, moaning, almost drooling as he thrust his bulging crotch upward.

The three other preppy jocks examined the now lean, handsome man head to toe and gave each other smirks of approval, and switched off the projector.

Lucas' eyes fluttered as he left the spiral's trance and the last of the catalytic chemicals in his body were used up. His balls swelled and tensed up, ready to launch their load.

"Man, I'm gonna... gonna..." Lucas growled, breaking free of his restraints and desperately fishing his cock out of his chino shorts before it launched rope upon rope of thick cum halfway across the room.

"Lucas, welcome to Davidson," the main jock chuckled, slapping the newly inducted preppy stud on the back.

"Heh, thanks, man," Lucas panted, "Call me Luke, by the way."

"Alright Luke, if you wanna put that trouser snake of yours away, Daniel here will show you where your dorm is."

Luke barely realized his long, soft cock was still out in the open. He hurriedly stuffed it back into his shorts before following his fellow prep bros to his new campus dorm.

Out Now: Dam Breakers

Hello everyone! I'm extremely excited (and, quite frankly, more than a bit nervous) to announce that I finished my fantasy romance novel Dam Breakers!

For the very TLDR-version: It is available here! Be sure to read the disclaimer below, though.

First of all, thank you! Everyone who reads my stories or likes them shows me that there is at least some interest in my mediocre writing. And even though the novel is not exactly like my stories here (more to that later), it gives me hope that you and other people might like it.

Now, for the actual novel!

Dam Breakers is the tale of Jared, a rather normal modern day college student, and Aleron, an apprentice mage living in a secluded tower with his teacher. One fateful day, they meet and are drawn into a maelstrom of magic, change and love - and dark secrets threatening to destroy everything they loved.

With over 120000 words, this is not only my longest story yet, but also my most carefully crafted one. I will attach an image of my Obsidian graph for the story at the end of the post.

Disclaimer:

As I have mentioned, it is a bit different from the stories I usually post here. First and foremost, it's a lot tamer. This novel isn't meant as a porn piece, but as an intriguing fantasy and romance tale. While there is love, desire and sex, of course, it's way more sparse and less explicit than, for example Closer Than Flesh.

It also features transformation themes, and the concept of change is one of the main focus points of the book, but, again, don't expect 500 pages full of transforming bodies because of it :)

And, finally, for a multitude of reasons, it does not contain AI generated images. I wouldn't be able to generate any that do the story justice, anyway.

Now that you know what not to expect, here are some things you MAY expect:

Transformation. Both in the sense of bodily changes but intriguing character development as well.

Gay Love. This is a story about two men from different worlds falling in love with each other, and their stony road to being together.

Magic. It's a fantasy story, and a truly enchanting one at that, with a fresh concept of magic and change.

Story. Last, but certainly not least, it's a good and interesting read, at least according to my opinion. Since I might be a bit biased here, let me tell you that my beta readers agree.

If you still want to read it (and I hope you do!), then you can grab your copy here:

If you are not in the US, you can just replace the .com with, for example, .co.uk to go to your local Amazon marketplace

I have not forgotten, of course, that I promised a special condition for you folks at Tumblr. Since Amazon makes it a bit difficult to actually implement that, I plan to offer a time limited discount or giveaway in a few weeks. I'll announce the exact time here on my blog beforehand.

If you really want to support me, it would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review on Amazon. That influences the algorithm a lot and helps the book get visibility, which is incredibly important . So, please, if you like the book, leave a review.

Teaser / Preview (mild spoilers)

And here is a short look into the book, from chapter 4. It contains some mild spoilers, but nothing too important. I also added an AI image, which is not in the book (see above).

[...]

Even though the weather was unstable, Jared enjoyed the journey through the vibrant spring land. It was a closeness to nature he had never experienced. Even back home with his parents, in rural Texas, the land had seemed different. Back there, the wilderness had been tamed decades if not centuries ago. There was no wonder, no adventure. Here, there were hills and forests, rivers and bogs, and who knew what else. It was as if Jared was seeing the world for the first time. Not to mention the smell. Jared could not remember a time when he had smelled the spring air like this.

In addition to the landscape, Jared's traveling companion also played a big part. Aleron was an intelligent and witty conversationalist, and Jared learned a lot about his new friend. They spoke of everything under the sun, and Jared told stories of his home, of modern inventions and the differences between this world and his. Even though Aleron was fascinated by his tales, he was also clearly skeptical about some of them, especially when it came to the more complex topics. That was only fair, though, as Jared himself had a hard time believing the fantastic stories of this world, even after having experienced some with his own eyes. Dragons, for example. It didn't matter how often Aleron recited what little information he had about those magnificent beasts, something in Jared resisted fully believing in them. He hoped that he would be able to see one of them for real - although Aleron repeatedly stressed how dangerous they were - in order to be able to fully believe in them.

While Aleron's world was certainly magical, it wasn't all like in the Lord of the Rings. There were, for example, no other humanoid races, as Jared learned. No elves, dwarves or orcs, at least to Aleron's knowledge, which, to be fair, mainly included the Kingdom of Myrthien. Although the Whispering Woods were not technically a part of Myrthien, and were generally considered wilderness, it was clear that they were no part of another nation either. The closest neighboring country to the Whispering Woods would either be the Golden Isles beyond the coast south of Eldoria or the Verdant Lands to the west. According to Aleron, the Verdant Lands couldn't really be considered a nation, too. It was more of a loose confederation of tribal communities, living in the characteristic dense forests of that region.

As Helena had promised, Luminara wasn't difficult to find. The capital of Myrthien was well known and if there was a sign post somewhere, it was sure to point to Luminara.

There was no shortage of smaller and bigger settlements, and about every third or fourth night they were able to sleep in beds. During the other nights, they made camp a bit off the road in order not to attract too much attention. It was one of those nights, about two weeks after they had left Eldoria, that Jared woke up in the middle of the night. Aleron, who was sleeping next to him, was moving in his sleep and occasionally made a sound, which had caused Flicker to gain a bit of distance to the sleeping man.

It was clear to Jared that his friend was dreaming, and he briefly considered waking him up from his nightmare. However, judging by the sounds, Jared began to suspect that Aleron was not having a nightmare but quite the opposite, although the dream seemed to be just as intense.

Quietly, he left the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping mage. Outside, he was greeted by the stars and a clear sky with an almost full moon. The campfire was almost dead, just a few embers and ashes were left. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and Jared decided to go to the nearby lake to drink. Aleron had never once shown a single sign of sexuality before, except for demonstrating a certain uneasiness around nudity and related topics. He never had commented on any woman - or man - in a suggestive way, so Jared had been half- convinced that this whole topic didn't have any relevance to the mage at all.

Of course, for his own reasons, Jared had avoided the subject as well, so, perhaps Aleron thought the same about him. Jared didn't mind that. As magical as this world was, he had yet to encounter a single sign of same-sex attraction. Perhaps this wasn't a thing here, biologically, or perhaps it was socially frowned upon, like in his world's medieval ages - or rural Texas, present day. In any case, there was absolutely no reason to bring that topic up, so he didn't. Not bringing up his sexuality was a sport he was very experienced in for 9 years straight now, after all.

As Jared neared the lake, he was feeling weird and tingly all over. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it stirred a vague memory in Jared. He had felt this feeling once before, but he couldn't quite recall when.

When he bent down to scoop some water into his hand, he stopped before his fingers touched the surface of the lake. The moon was bright, and Jared could see his reflection in the mirror-smooth water quite well. The only problem was that it was not him who was looking back at him.

Of course, there was a strong resemblance, but the details weren't right. His face looked somewhat stronger, his jawline a bit squarer. His hair a bit lighter and styled like the day he first stepped out of the mirror. On his chin, there was a short well-groomed beard even though he had shaved just last morning. It wasn't just his face, though. As he looked down on himself, he looked fitter than he should, as if he was visiting a gym regularly. In fact, the definition of muscle on his torso increased further, just as he was watching. Suddenly, the wonder was replaced by fear. He had felt that way before, and now he remembered when. It had been during his first visit to Aleron's world, when his body was 'destabilizing' as Aleron had put it. Given, the feeling had been stronger then, but it was definitely the same. And now, his body was changing again, and he was weeks of travel from the magic mirror.

Half-panicking, he sprinted back to the tent, not caring about being quiet anymore. Perhaps Aleron knew what to do! He ducked into the entrance and called out to the mage.

"Aleron, wake up!"

Almost immediately, the apprentice jolted awake. "Jared? What is wrong?"

"I... don't know, it's me. Look at me!"

After a few words of encouragement, Flicker began burning brighter, allowing them to see in the tent as well. Aleron looked at the half-naked Jared critically for a few moments before asking: "Okay... what am I looking for?"

"Can't you see? I'm..." However, as Jared looked down on himself, everything was fine again. He was looking at his plain old self, just as he should look like. The tingling feeling was gone, too.

"Oh." Jared felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. "I... must have been imagining things."

[...]

If you liked the teaser, be sure to give the whole thing a read :)

Let me close with another whole-hearted Thank You for your continued interest!

Stay awesome!

And here, as promised, a peek at the creative complexity of the story:

Absolute favorite. A brutal story written masterfully

End of Shift

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

My life is over. I’ve been playing a high stakes game, and somehow landed on one side of the odds all the time, but my luck was bound to run out sooner or later. I guess I should be happy that it turned out to be later, but it sucks no less. I got sloppy. I was looking through the items near the cashier, as always, trying to mostly use reflective surfaces to see what was going on, as always. I need to be within 15 feet or latency becomes an issue. Some old lady still using the old wallet was buying KokaKola and a pack of Ziffs. This would be easy, as always. I discreetly pressed my watch as she was ready to make the purchase, activating my EM-swiper. I wouldn’t take much, a few credits more. She probably wouldn’t notice it, or think the store stiffed her, or think she bought two packs of Ziffs and lost one. I’m not stealing to get rich, just to get by.

As the EM-swiper went off a high pitched beeping starts behind me. I barely have time to turn my head enough to see the charging police officer, before he slams me into the side of a KokaKola fridge. Shit, I hadn’t done a survey pass through the store as I always do. I could barely register what he was screaming in my ear. “Drop it,” I realize, and let go of the magazine. He must have thought I had the EM-swiper in my hand. He told me to put my hands against the wall and performed a pat-down. It’s only him, so he must be off duty or not on a real patrol. He empties my pockets on the cashier table. Nothing of value, and certainly not something incriminating. I may not have been fortunate enough to afford academy, but I’m not stupid.

“You are detained under suspicion of committing proximity fraud. Do you understand?” he asks me in that commanding yet bored tone of a laborer having to recite corporate bullshit, only in his case it is in the pretense of justice. “Yes,” I answer him. He doesn’t have anything on me or he would have arrested me right away. Probably. “Put this on to acknowledge you’ve read the Citizen Rights Act and agree to an investigation in this matter.” He hands me a pair of handcuffs to put on. I hesitate for a second. He is behind me and in the way of the store exit. I can stall for time and tell him to recite the CRA, but that immediately counts against you, as it is your duty to know it. I have no choice but to put them on. It’s the latest model. I haven’t seen any up close before. Light, thin, all metal, no key hole. Probably opened remotely or only inside a police cell or some shit. I put them on.

“Turn around, pick up your stuff, and exit the store.” I do as told, turn around and begin to pick up my stuff and put them back where he took them. It’s an older police officer. None of them young, jacked up types. Perhaps he is one of the fair ones. But then I am the criminal, so what good would that do me? There’s a small, black duffle bag by his side. So he is on his way home. Perhaps he is tired. Perhaps I can shake him. Have Leo remove the shackles and then stay low for a fucking long time. Or this just doesn’t amount to anything more than a slap on the wrist. I walk towards the door, him behind me.

“Nice watch,” he says, pointing at my wrist as I reach or the door.

He knows. Unless I can get away now my life is over. All I can think of is the monstrosities the state churn out as punishment. Equal part labor force and sadism. I open the door as little as possible and as soon as I am through I dash down the block. I don’t dare look behind me, but I don’t hear him in pursuit. Halfway down the block I swerve into the alley that cuts across the building and out on the block on the other side. If I can cross that block and then down south I’m in the park and there are plenty of places to hide there.

My hands are not on fire. This surprises me as I look down on my hands, screaming in pain. There is a high pitched sound coming out of the handcuffs, like capacitors charging, but it is continuous. The pain emanating from my hands is something unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. My legs buckle. I know I need to move, somehow, somewhere. It’s just so difficult to think of anything but my hands that are not on fire. It would probably be a good idea to not scream my lungs out, but I don’t really have a choice in that.

Just as suddenly as it started it stops. I’m still writhing in pain, but my hands are not on fire in a much more comforting way. “The payment proxy is in your watch, is it not?” the policeman asks, standing a few steps away. I’m panting, I realize when I attempt to answer him. Panting and sweaty. I can’t manage to speak. I just nod my head.

“The state vs. item RK-220553 finds the defendant guilty to breach of contract with the state, executed by judicial AI 5” he reads off his handheld screen. I’m confused to what just happened. “No trial?” I manage to wheeze out. “You entered into a cooperation contract when you put on the handcuffs, as you are aware of as you claimed to know the Citizens Rights Act. Disobedience at that point allows for immediate trial by AI as long as no forensic work is needed.” He sounded like the same bored cop as he was in the store, reciting memorized text for the thousandth time.

I struggle to get up on my feet. Not only am I shaky, but having my hands locked together makes it surprisingly difficult to get up. “You know, this is bad timing,” the cop starts. “I was on my way home and don’t have all the standard gear. It’s supposed to be a swift punishment, for deterrence, but there is really only one thing I can do.” Why is he so apologetic? He opens the bag and pulls out a fucking tactical human transformer. I’ve never even seen one in person before. He turns it on, selects something on the screen, and points the device towards me. “No, I can…”

This time I am on fire, if only so briefly. There is a blinding light, a pulse of heat, and the smell of burnt plastic. As the transient heat subsides it keeps falling colder and colder. I’m naked. All my clothes have been singed from my body. My watch is gone. My shoes are gone. Underwear gone. And, I realize, my hair is gone. The cop keeps punching in selections in the menus of the devices. I manage to get up on my feet. “Stay on the ground,” he tells me. Not so much as an order, but as an advice. I sit down again and he trains the device on me.

I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not pain exactly. There is something about rewriting the code and cellular structure of your body while your brain is engaged that makes it give up in disbelief. “This can’t be what’s actually happening,” it thinks and gives you completely nonsense sensory interpretations. But it also gives up on all other tasks. Time becomes irrelevant. Critical thinking put on hold. When the device stops you are utterly confused for seconds. Possibly by design, but it makes sense that you can’t rewire the brain in flight without some glitches.

“I want you to stand up,” the cop says in a firm voice. “Who?” I ask, still dazed, just to make sure. “You. Get up on both feet. Take this.” He throws an orange bundle to me, and I feebly grasp for it but my one arm yanks the chain to the cuff of the other arm. The bundle brushes by and lands on the ground next to me. He looks disappointed, more at himself for thinking it would work than on me for not catching it.

I look down at my hand and see something orange in my grip, but it is not the orange that interests my but the grip. My arms, thin from lack of food and nimble from grabbing P2 storage modules out of vendor racks. are enormous. Big, well defined muscles with popped veins going up and around them. They look longer than before and even the hands are larger than they used to be. I can see that not only my arms are different. My chest is all lean and strong-looking as well, the legs have these weird lines showing different groups of muscles under the skin, and I can almost bet that the ground is further down than it used to be. Orange! I’m holding something orange in my hand.

“I only have an emergency kit with me, so not very many options for you I’m afraid. If you had come with me I think they would have found some better use for you, but as I said, I didn’t have much to chose from beside himbot,” the cop said while putting some beat-up looking boots from his bag next to me. He grabs the chain between my cuffs, and both of them pop open instantly, and he folds them up and begins to place them back into the cuff holder in his belt.

There was something he said that was important. Like, really important. I feel cobwebs like I had just been awakened from a deep sleep. “Put on the jock,” he tells me, and again I am confused, but of a different kind. It’s like I urgently need to know what he means, somehow. “You’re holding them in your hand.” I again look down at my hand and see the orange piece of cloth, which obviously is what he meant. I flip it around in my hands and finds it to be an orange jockstrap with a generous pouch. Looking down I also see the reason for that, since my dick and balls are large. Much larger than I remember them to be. I don’t want to keep him waiting, so as quickly as I can manage, with my balance a bit off, I manage to place one leg in each loop and pull up the jockstrap. It neatly collects everything in front into a large orange ball.

Himbot! That’s what he had said. It’s like the government robots but human. What was the I and M now again? Wait, those are just mindless sacks of muscles roaming around doing whatever menial task is available.

“Himbot?” I ask him. “Yes, you are a himbot,” the cop answered. “Put on the shirt.”

I immediately grabbed the orange bundle from the ground I assumed to be the shirt. To my delight I was right and with just a few tries I managed to get it on me. It isn’t a real shirt, but one of those without arms, whatever they are called. Quite a lot of skin showed. The shoulders were bare, as were the sides and the nipples unless you positioned the strings just right. Stringers! It’s called a stringers, or something close to it. I feel so tired thinking of words.

“And the boots”

I grab one of the boots. There is something missing, but I’m not sure what it is. I has something to do with the small holes, I think. Well, the large hole is missing a foot, so I put one in it. Then I put the other foot in the other boot, and looked at the cop to see if he approved. He looks about the same. Good enough I hope.

“Face me and raise your hands” I comply immediately. He is pointing the large gun at me again. I don’t like it, but I must do what he says. He presses a few buttons and then there is a sharp headache.

“Who are you?” “Himbot 220553.” “What is your assignment?” “Walk along path 228-red responding to requests.” “What types of requests?” “Any type of requests.”

I'm reposting some recent dumb-and-jocked stories but don't have all. Please also have a look at the archive compiled by @imsrtman!

It’s such a shame you don’t have a whole part for dumb&jocked! He left tumblr I think and I can’t find his stories anywhere

You can find most of the stories on this site. As for the missing parts, you may find them on my blog.

dumb-and-jocked-archive.blogspot.com

dumb-and-jocked archive

An archive of most of the content from dumb-and-jocked's Tumblr blog.

Breedertfs Story Index

This author also went by the following names:

Hogtfs

Shapedbydesire

Stories:

A Bad Wet Dream

A better ride

A better son

Arabian Nectar

Drawn

Better use of a twink

Born to Breed

Born to be a father

Chet

Don't be a queer, be a breeder

Frat Boy Fantasy

OnlyWishes

Put a sock in it

Set free

Shady Unit

Stop babe

Stud Pride

What You Desire

Taboo

That Wish Stinks

Thrift Shift: Camo Hat

This post will be updated this week as I reposted/reblogged more stories.

Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Gwen could smell the cigarette smoke wafting from one of the apartment windows as she jogged along the street. She always hated this part of the walk because there was usually someone sitting outside on their apartment balcony and she felt "watched." Gwen was in her mid-twenties, just out of college, but single. She worked downtown at a bank and wore fashionable work clothes, but today on her run she wore simple athletic gear. She had an attractive body, lean and fit, and she hoped to keep it that way. It was on this street in particular that she could feel people "watch" her as she ran and it was unsettling. Today, her cell-phone rang, which threw off her running music, so she stopped to check her phone and get the music going again.

When she stopped, she could smell the cigarette smoke even stronger and felt eyes watching her from above. She glanced up and saw a thirty-something guy leaning over the railing and looking at her. She broke eye contact and paced a few steps, but still felt watched. He heard the man clear his throat and spit.

"Lookin' fine, girl! Don' stop now! Keep on'a runnin' " said the guy with a laugh.

She ignored him and tried to get her phone to start her running mix again. While she fussed with her phone, her water bottle slipped and fell onto the sidewalk. She could feel the man's pervert eyes watching her as she reached down to pick it up.

The man let out a loud whistle, "Nice ass! Come by later and I'll help you keep it in shape!"

She had been cat-called before, but this guy was starting to cross a line. Earlier that week, a friend had told her to download an app called "Men Are Dogs." It was supposedly some way to report incidents of guys acting like jerks or "dogs" so other girls could look them up and feel safer. Her friend had thought it was funny to see what kind of guys made it into the database, but Gwen never thought she would actually have to use it.

In a second, she grabbed her phone, opened up the app, and turned to the guy in the balcony.

"You want a picture! I'll give you more than a picture," he shouted as he grabbed his crotch and gestured vulgarly.

This was the first time she actually had a chance to look at this creep of a guy. He was wearing torn jeans and a white sleeveless t-shirt. He was a broad shouldered guy with a big build, but had a beer gut and flabby arms. He looked pretty strong, but not really in shape. His light blonde hair was cropped tight, almost shaved and he had a tattoo on his shoulder. He threw his cigarette in the bushes and licked his lips and thrust towards her again, laughing.

Her phone snapped a picture and within a few seconds the message read "Strike Three," which must have meant this guy had been reported by two other users. The next screen said "Teach this dog a lesson? Yes or No." She wasn't sure what this actually meant, but the guy was being a real dickhead, so she chose "yes."

The screen buffered with the message "Dog in Training," which had a picture of a muscular man wearing a dog collar and panting stupidly. She looked up and saw the man on the balcony look like he was choking and fall to his knees. She ran closer, hoping it wasn't all some stupid act. He was pawing at something at his neck, which Gwen realized was a leather collar. He made a few choking sounds and then looked at her and stuck his tongue out stupidly. Suddenly, his body started to shape shift into a compact, muscular dog. She saw a leash attached to the collar and the dog pleaded softly and looked up at her.

Her phone vibrated and she read the message, "Say hello to Kurt." She grabbed the leash, not sure what do with this man that she had watched transform into a dog. She was happy that he had stopped harassing her, but thought this was maybe an extreme reaction. The phone continued by asking "Bring Home or Bring to Pound?" She chose "bring home," but just wanted to get out of there before anyone one noticed. Kurt trotted in front on his leash while she finished her run.

As soon as she got home, she texted Amanda, the friend that had shown her the phone app. "No way!" was Amanda's reaction, "send a pic." Gwen snapped a picture of Kurt and sent it. "I'm coming over," Amanda replied.

--

"Oh my god!" Amanda squealed when Gwen explained what had happened. "He's so cute," she said as she pet Kurt on the back while he panted and barked.

"Well, he was saying all this stupid shit, and I just thought I'd take a picture and leave ... but it turned him into this dog ... and now I don't know how to turn him back!" Gwen stammered. "I don't want a dog!"

"But Gwen, look at him," Amanda said as she continued to pet Kurt's head.

"I don't want a dog! Especially one that was some sicko guy from the street!"

Gwen's phone suddenly vibrated again and she pulled up the app. She saw a picture of Kurt before he was a dog and the words "Teach your dog a new trick? Yes or No."

"What should I do," Gwen said in frustration. Amanda grabbed the phone and chose "yes." Kurt whimpered a little and then rolled over on his back. In a few minutes, his dog body had transformed back into the original Kurt, but he stayed motionless on the floor. Thankfully, his clothes had reappeared so they didn't have to see a nude guy "appear" on the living room floor.

"Woah," said Amanda. "So you're not kidding!"

"Of course not!" shouted Gwen. "This is him!"

"Give a command," prompted the phone and Amanda selected "Roll over." Kurt obediently rolled onto his belly. "Stand up," and Kurt stood up. "Try your own," read the phone. "Take off your shirt and flex," shouted Amanda. "Amanda! Stop it!" Gwen tried to say, but Kurt obeyed by taking off his white t-shirt and flexed his muscles. While Amanda gawked about controlling Kurt, Gwen saw her pile of unfolded laundry and had an idea for a command. "Kurt, fold my laundry." Dutifully, he walked over and started folding clothes. "Nice one," Amanda replied. "You've got a live-in butler!"

While Kurt folded clothes, the phone popped up another message. "See grooming options." Amanda and Gwen fiddled with the sliding bars, one for muscle, hair, height, etc., but they couldn't decide so they selected "Suggested grooming." They watched Kurt transform again, this time into a muscular young man with ripped abs, a tight ass with a thin waist. Long legs and arms with lean muscle, broad shoulders and sucked in stomach. His hairy belly and back were smooth, like he was properly groomed. Even his smile and eyes looked more attractive.

"Good lord!" said Amanda. "Take off your pants, Kurt!" and he obeyed. "No, like in a strip show!" Kurt walked over to her and started grinding while slowly unbuttoning his jeans. He had on a pair of tight underwear which showed his massive cock. But Gwen choose, "Kennel" on the app and Kurt stopped, curled up on the living room floor and within a minute was back to dog form.

"Oh come on!" said Amanda. "It was just getting fun."

"It's late, Amanda," said Gwen. "And I have to work. Plus, I just want to go to bed and figure out what to do about this in the morning."

"Fine," said Amanda as she headed towards the door. "But invite me over so I can play with your 'dog' once and awhile."

"Haha," replied Gwen drolly.

--

At 6:00 AM, Gwen heard scratching at her door. "What the?" she said as she staggered. She opened the door and saw Kurt scratching his paws to get her attention.

"Do you have to go outside," she asked and she knew the answer was yes. She grabbed the leash and walked him outside to take a piss on the lawn. She changed into her running gear and thought maybe she could take Kurt running with her.

After the run she started getting ready for work and took a quick shower. She stepped out wearing only her towel and screamed when she saw a man standing in the kitchen. But she realized it was only Kurt, who was busy cooking breakfast. He was wearing only his underwear and was the muscular version of himself from last night.

"What are you doing?" asked Gwen, as if talking to a pet. She was startled when he answered, "Making breakfast for you."

"Wait, you can talk?"

"Of course I can talk!"

The whole time since taking Kurt home, she hadn't heard him speak a word. Also, she noticed that even though she was only wrapped in a towel, Kurt was making perfect eye contact with her, not looking at her body or barely covered breasts, just right into her eyes. She felt a little sad for him, but also a sort of "puppy love" at how cute he was making breakfast for her. She finished changing, ate breakfast, and headed towards the door.

"Kurt, I'll be back around 5. Just don't mess anything them and keep clean, okay. Make yourself lunch."

"Have a good day, Gwen," Kurt answered with excitement as she closed and locked the door.

--

When Gwen opened the door to her house she didn't know what to expect. Would Kurt still be there? Would he be a dog-dog or a man-dog? Would he have run away? Would she keep him? What about Kurt's friends and family?

"Kurt, I'm home," Gwen called out. She heard the shower turn off and Kurt ran towards her, this time completely naked.

"Hi Gwen!" he said enthusiastically. She saw that Kurt's massive cock was swaying, half-erect. "Wanna get some exercise?" said Gwen.

"Yes, of course!" answered Kurt, who loved running. He ran to get the leash and held it out to her.

"Not that type of exercise," said Gwen as she led him towards the bedroom. "You're going to fuck me until I tell you to stop, okay!"

"Okay," he said, hopping up on the bed.

"And you're not going to talk until I tell you," she said. Kurt nodded.

"And go slow. You need to be more man and less dog right now," she added as she dropped her work skirt to the ground and pulled off her blouse.

After there love-making -- the best Gwen had ever had! -- Gwen had a notification on her phone. "Training Complete. All Men Are Dogs!"

She looked over at the muscular man-dog lying in bed next to her, looked at his smooth chest, thin waist, and tight ass, and put down the phone, fully determined to adopt this stray and keep him well-trained.

--- Originally posted on 2020-09-17 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

A Better Son

Apologies for my absence! Been without power for almost a month, still working on sorting some things out - but I’m still alive! And still kinky as ever, of course.

Here’s a quick story as a treat.

Matthew was a good kid.

Good looks, good grades, good future - but he was never able to come to terms with being abandoned by his father as a baby. Not that his mother did a bad job of raising him, she was wonderful, but like most young men he craved having a father figure in his life.

Someone to play ball with, to introduce to his girlfriend that he was sure he’d marry one day, to teach him how to be a good man - not that he even knew anything about his father, only that his mother said he wasn’t missing out on much. That he left for a reason.

But still, Matthew liked to fantasize. He imagined a great, incredible guy, a guy that chose to give up on Matthew before he even had a chance. He couldn’t get around it. So maybe that’s why he made the wish, “I wish I could be the son my father wanted,” and maybe that’s why everything began to shift.

He could sense the world warping around him, everything changing in a blur, himself included. He felt a cold breeze run over his body as suddenly he was nude, felt himself tumbling through time and space, but nothing was stranger than the feeling of his body stretching and expanding. Inflating.

When he tried to scream, all he could do was moan. Each sensual purr soared higher and higher than the last, as he felt his body writhing in the air and screaming femininely, biceps pressing against a bloating chest and ass cheeks jiggling just behind him. He was terrified, but he couldn’t stop himself. He felt huge, and horny.

And then he crash landed, knees making contact with a soft king sized bed. All he had time to do was look down at himself, at the beefy tattooed body and tiny speedo he was now trapped inside, before he lost control again and began grinding against the plush blanket like a bitch in heat.

“Papi,” he was forced to moan, not recognizing the accented voice that left his mouth. He sounded so dumb, and desperate, no longer able to find the English language anywhere on his large tongue. He had no control over his body, over the bouncing booty or the fingers dancing across his cobblestone abs.

When his father walked into the room, looking like the symbol of masculinity Matthew had always imagined, Matthew wanted to cry out in joy. He could recognize him from childhood pictures, and he had aged well. He was well dressed, and ripped, and smelled of leather and wood. He hated that his father was meeting him while he was trapped in this slutty body.

But his father was thrilled, and didn’t seem to be surprised in the least by his presence. “Daddy’s home, Mateo,” the man said as he began to pull off his shirt, revealing his lean body that reeked of power and control. “Have been a good slut while I was at work? Are you going to welcome me?”

All Matthew - or Mateo, it now seemed - could say was “Si, papi,” jumping to his feet and starting to twerk and twist his body like some sort of male stripper. His father smiled, inching closer to his trophy boy, enjoying every jiggle of his perfect body. It was then that Matthew began to realize the truth.

His father left because he was gay. He didn’t want kids. His mother had been right, he hadn’t been missing out on anything at all, and the kind of son that his father truly wanted… wasn’t a real son at all. Just a beefy whore that was good for nothing but moving his body and taking his daddy’s huge cock.

Matthew was never able to free himself from Mateo. To the world, that was who he was now, just a beautiful slut with a huge ass and bigger muscles, who had a daddy that flew him to the states and bought him everything his little heart and smaller brain could desire. He was living his best life.

But Matthew was in agony, forever spending the rest of his life with the man he wanted to want him so desperately, only to get exactly what he wished for in the worst way. He’d never go to college for football, he’d never marry his high school sweetheart, all of the good things were gone.

He was daddy’s pride and joy now. His juicy treasure, forever waiting on him hand and foot. Begging for mercy in his mind while he was forced to tell his new papi to do terrible, nasty things to him. Nothing more than a sentient sex toy.

But at least his father wanted him now. Loved him, even.

That was all that mattered in the end.

Manual Labor Client Three

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Brian and Jose were the only two still following Mr. Godfrey around school with blank stares on their faces. A bell rang and students filed into the hallways as Mr. Godfrey ushered them towards an exit.

"Hey, Jose," shouted a student. "Where you going? Are we meeting up later."

Jose stared back blankly, causing Mr. Godfrey to step in between a say interject. "They have detention. Do you want to join him?"

"No ... uh ... no, sir," said the student, retreating back into the crowd.

"Keep walking," he said to the two hypnotized guys as they headed outside. On one side of the parking lot was a shed that the school used for storing their buses, vans, and other vehicles. It was also where they taught a few classes occasionally, in particular the automotive club. Outside, there was a small truck with straw bales and bags of feed in the back. Mr. Godfrey turned to Jose, "You, get in the truck and wait." Jose walked towards the truck and mindlessly open the door and waited in the passenger seat. Brian and Mr. Godfrey kept walking through the open garage doors shop. There was a run down car with its hood open and engine parts and supplies scattered on work benches. Mr. Godfrey pushed a button next to the door and started lowering the doors. He walked over to the car and turned the key and the car revved to life.

"All right, kid. This is your assignment. Get under the car. Pay attention. Get your hands dirty and you'll make a good mechanic."

Brian stared blankly back, still deep in trance.

"Are you stupid!? Get under the car," said Mr. Godfrey, stepping closer. The boy looked scared and confused. "Here, let me help." He walked over to Brian, dipped one of his hands in some motor oil and wiped it onto the sleeve of Brian's shirt. He held his finger next to Brian's face and said, "Breathe it in, boy. Breathe deep. Relax. Breathe." Brian's eyes seemed to roll back into his head in ecstasy. Mr. Godfrey wiped the rest of the oil onto Brian's cheek and forehead.

"Your shirt is dirty, boy. You better keep it clean," he said. "How about you take it off and get under the car?"

Brian's hands moved slowly and he pulled off his shirt.

"Good, now lie down. Breathe. Relax. Just lie down on the dolly over there."

He knelt down and rolled onto the metal cart with wheels. Gently, Mr. Godfrey wheeled him under the car.

"Just like tucking you into bed. You're tired. Relax. When you wake up, you will be relaxed. Just keep breathing."

The exhaust fumes and heat from the engine made Brian feel more relaxed. He hear Mr. Godfrey turn on the radio of the car and blast it. The fumes started to make him go dizzy. He saw a bright light and heard a door slam. Mr. Godfrey had left the garage and he felt like he was paralyzed underneath the car. The radio seemed to fill his head with sound and he felt like his body was melting away. He blacked out.

---

When he woke up and saw the underbelly of the car above him and heard the engine rumbling. He instinctively felt his arms and legs rolling the dolly back into the garage. He was surprised because he wasn't sure why his body was moving, but it was like he was in a dream. His body was moving but he was not in control, just on autopilot. He opened the door and turned the key off, listening to the engine wind down. He walked over to the hood of the car, grabbed a rag, and began working on the engine. He look at his hands and realized that they were black with oil and grease. He was shirtless and his chest and arms were covered in sweat and grime. His baggy jeans were barely held up by his belt. He looked down at his body and saw that his waist and torso were chiseled and toned. He lifted a tire off off the ground nearby and felt his arms swell up with muscle. He slid the tire into place, grabbed a air wrench, and zipped the bolts into place. The car looked like it was complete, so he walked over to the sink to clean up. He couldn't help but stare at his body in the mirror and felt aroused when he ran his hands over his sweaty body. Some part of him was resisting this transformation and he knew that this was all a dream or hallucination. But his body was beyond control, and he seemed to be remembering new things about his past. He took shop classes in high school, had always been interested in motors and engines, he could recite facts about cars and trucks, and even watched NASCAR from time to time. Next to the mirror, he saw a hook with a pair of military dog tags hanging. The name on them was "Bruce Torkelson," which seemed familiar to him. Instinctively, he slung the chain around his neck and felt the cold metal resting on his chest. A wave of new memories washed over him. He had enlisted in the army right out of high school. He had been a mechanic for a few years. He never saw active duty, but worked on equipment and vehicle maintenance. His army buddies had given him the nickname "Tork" and he had grown used to it over the years. He served his duty and now worked at a local mechanic's shop. He grabbed a camo t-shirt from the bench, slid it over his head and headed over to the door. He flicked the lights off in the garage and walked outside. He could barely remember his high school days, but that didn't matter anymore. Parked outside was a Harley-Davidson. He turned the key, revved the engine, and cruised out of the parking lot.