Age Gap - Taking It To The Next Level

Age Gap - Taking It To The Next Level

Read Part 1 by @exploratorytfs.

I know I confused my boyfriend when I told him about taking it to the next level. His eyes widened in surprise, and I could see the flicker of worry cross his face. He tried to ask what I meant, but I just smirked and kissed him, telling him it was a surprise. Well, yeah, it meant a couple of things – none of them something he wanted, I’m sure.

First, getting myself in shape. I loved his twink body, but now that it was mine, I needed something a little bit more muscular – something that would let me take control and dominate physically, not just mentally. That took me a few months. During that time, I was still doming him, keeping our roles intact, but I was working hard every day at the gym. The transformation was incredible. Now, look at me – this body is ready for absolutely anything.

"Hey, babe, check out these gains," I said, flexing my biceps in front of him. His eyes widened in admiration, but there was a hint of fear too. He knew I was serious about changing things up.

As the months went by and I dedicated myself to transforming my new body, the muscle worship sessions became more intense. Every day after my workout, I would come home, dripping with sweat, and make my boyfriend kneel before me. The smell of hard work and the sight of my bulging muscles seemed to both intimidate and excite him.

"Come on, babe," I said one evening, flexing my bicep in front of his face. "Show me how much you appreciate all this effort."

He leaned in, his lips trembling as they brushed against my bicep, his tongue tracing the contours of the muscle. I could feel his breath quickening, his adoration palpable. It wasn't just about worshipping me; it was about submitting entirely to the new power dynamic.

As my body grew stronger and more defined, the sessions grew longer and more demanding. "Worship every inch of me," I commanded, stretching out on the bed, my muscles glistening under the soft light. He obeyed, his hands and lips moving reverently over my chest, abs, thighs, and calves. The intensity of his worship fueled my dominance, making me crave more.

One night, after a particularly grueling session at the gym, I stood before him, shirtless, my skin glistening with sweat. "Lick it off," I ordered, my voice a low growl. He hesitated for a moment, then complied, his tongue trailing along my pecs and abs, his eyes closed in a mix of submission and arousal.

The act of worship became a ritual, a way for me to assert my dominance and for him to show his devotion. I reveled in the power I had over him, in the way his eyes lit up with awe and desire every time he saw my body.

"You're lucky to have this," I would tell him, flexing my muscles as he gazed up at me. "Remember that."

The more my body transformed, the more intense our sessions became. I made him massage my sore muscles, his fingers working into the tight knots and making me groan with pleasure. His touch, once gentle and loving, became more desperate, as if he feared losing me to my newfound strength and confidence.

Second, stepping into my new sexual era. I had developed tons of new kinks. Not only had I developed a transformation kink, but I also got really into ropes and bondage. There was something incredibly thrilling about the control and power dynamics that came with restraining someone.

I started simple, with basic knots and ties, enjoying the sight of my boyfriend's lithe body squirming beneath the bonds. "Stay still," I would command, as I carefully wrapped the rope around his wrists, securing him to the bedpost. His eyes would widen with a mix of fear and excitement, his breath hitching as I pulled the knots tight.

As I got more experienced, the bondage sessions grew more elaborate. I invested in high-quality ropes, learning intricate techniques. The artistry of the knots and the patterns they created on his skin were as satisfying as the control they symbolized.

One evening, I decided to push our boundaries further. "Tonight, we're going to try something new," I told him, a wicked smile on my face. I could see the apprehension in his eyes, but he nodded, trusting me.

I spent nearly an hour meticulously binding him, weaving the ropes around his torso, thighs, and ankles, creating a beautiful, restrictive web. By the time I was done, he was completely immobilized, every movement restricted by the tight embrace of the ropes.

"How does that feel?" I asked, running my fingers over the intricate knots.

"Intense," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Good," I replied, leaning in to kiss him. "That's exactly what I want."

The power dynamic in these moments was electrifying. I reveled in his vulnerability, in the trust he placed in me, and the absolute control I had over him. I could see the arousal in his eyes, mixed with a flicker of fear. It was a heady combination that drove me wild.

The sessions grew more intense over time. I started incorporating sensory deprivation, blindfolding him and adding earplugs to heighten his anticipation and focus his attention solely on the sensations I provided. "You don't need to see or hear," I would murmur in his ear before slipping the blindfold over his eyes. "Just feel."

His body would tense, every touch amplified in the darkness. The thrill of controlling his senses, of being his entire world in those moments, was intoxicating. I pushed his boundaries, exploring new realms of pleasure and pain, always careful but relentless in my pursuit of dominance.

The more we delved into this new sexual era, the more I realized how much I craved this control, this power. It wasn't just about the physical dominance; it was about the psychological hold I had over him. Knowing he was entirely at my mercy, trusting me implicitly, gave me a rush like nothing else.

And I could see the changes in him too. He became more pliant, more willing to submit to my desires. But even as he adapted to this new dynamic, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. I needed a sub who truly appreciated this body, who worshiped it like it deserved. Someone who matched my intensity and desire for exploration.

That thought lingered in the back of my mind, growing stronger with each passing day. I loved him, but this new era of our relationship had shown me a side of myself that craved more. More worship, more admiration, more excitement. And if that meant finding a new sub who could truly appreciate what I had become, then so be it.

Third, and this was the real kicker, was finding a sub truly worthy of this sexy body. Yeah, his body is cute, but it’s really not what I’m into now. He’s too old for me, don’t you think? I’m 20 now, for God’s sake. I should be off pounding twinks, not wasting my time with some older daddy after all.

One evening, we decided to go out to a club together. It was one of those nights where the music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and the energy was electric. I found myself drawn to the younger guys on the dance floor. Their energy, their bodies, their carefree attitudes – it was intoxicating. I realized I wanted that. I wanted someone who could keep up with me, who could worship this body the way it deserved.

As the night wore on, I noticed a particularly attractive twink eyeing me from across the room. He was everything I was looking for – young, fit, and full of energy. I felt a magnetic pull towards him, and before I knew it, we were dancing together, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

"You're amazing," the twink whispered in my ear, his hands roaming over my body.

"Thanks," I replied, my heart pounding with excitement. "You too."

We moved closer, our bodies pressed together, the chemistry undeniable. I could feel my boyfriend's eyes on us from across the room, but I didn't care. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed.

The twink and I slipped away to a quieter corner of the club, our hands exploring each other eagerly. The thrill of the moment, the forbidden nature of it, only made it more exciting. I knew I was crossing a line, but I didn't care. This was my new life, my new desire.

When we finally returned to the main floor, my boyfriend was waiting, his face a mask of anger and hurt. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice shaking with emotion.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied coolly, even though we both knew exactly what he meant.

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped. "I saw you. I saw everything."

"Maybe it's time you faced the truth," I said, my voice steady. "This isn’t working for me anymore. I'm young, hot, and ready for more. I should be out there, exploring, not tied down to someone who can’t keep up."

The hurt in his eyes was palpable, but I pressed on. "I need a sub who truly appreciates this body, who worships it like it deserves. You’re too old for me now."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to protest. "But we can make this work. I can change, I can be better for you."

"No," I said firmly. "It's not about you changing. It's about me realizing what I need. And what I need is someone who can match my intensity and my desires. Someone younger, more energetic. I'm sorry, but this is the end for us."

He didn't take the news well, of course. He begged and pleaded. "Let's swap our bodies back," he said desperately. "We can go back to how things were. Please."

I looked at him, feeling a mix of pity and annoyance. "Swap back?" I repeated, stepping closer to him. "I don't know what you're talking about. This body has always been mine."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, please. We can fix this."

I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at me. "Listen to me," I said, my voice low and commanding. "This is my body. It always has been. You need to move on."

Packing my things was bittersweet. There were moments of doubt, memories of the good times we shared. But I knew this was the right decision for me. I needed to be true to myself, to my desires. And staying in a relationship that no longer fulfilled me wasn't fair to either of us.

As I walked out the door, I felt a mix of liberation and anticipation. The world was out there, full of possibilities, full of young, eager subs ready to worship me. Watch out world, Liam Anderson is ready to step it up a notch.

I moved into a new place, closer to the gym and the nightlife. It didn’t take long for me to find what I was looking for. Young, fit twinks who looked up to me with admiration and desire. They craved the dominance I offered, and I reveled in their worship.

One in particular caught my eye – a 19-year-old with a lean, toned body and an insatiable hunger for submission. We hit it off immediately. He was everything I wanted – eager, energetic, and utterly devoted to pleasing me.

"You're perfect," I told him one night, running my hands over his smooth skin. "Exactly what I need."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, his eyes shining with gratitude and lust.

Life was perfect. I had the body I wanted, the power I craved, and a sub who worshiped me like a god. The doubts and guilt faded away, replaced by the thrill of living my truth. I was finally where I belonged – in control, admired, and desired.

And as I looked at myself in the mirror, flexing my muscles, I knew I had made the right choice. The world was mine, and I was ready to conquer it.

brady potter by alfredo llamas (2023)

Massive & Mindless

--- Original creation #3 ---

"You want to be a jock?"

Asher, the school's quarter back looked at you quizzically.

You didn't look like the type that would be interested given your small frame and size.

"Hmm. No can do I think. Not like this at least"

You became nervous as the quarter back stepped closer to you, giving a clearer view of his pecs that were nearly spilling out his stringer tanktop.

"You see," he started saying as he grabbed onto your arms, lifting them both up. "you need some serious arm muscle if you want to do a ball sport".

Pure ecstasy came over you as your arms expanded in size. You looked at your arms as you flexed them seeing them grow even larger in size.

Barely recovered from the kick you feel his hands touch your chest.

"Of course, you can't move your arms well if you don't have good pecs to match"

Immediately you felt the pull your shoulders pulling on your chest. What was once flat had now become two slim yet firm slabs of muscle to accompany your new strong arms.

"How could I forget about a good core?" Asher said, thoroughly enjoying your face of pure euphoria.

He now looks you in the eye as you feel him draw a line vertically across your chest. Next, you feel his finger go horizontally. As you look down you can see his work. Where his finger went were now deep grooves forming an impressive core, including beautifully sculpted obliques.

As you look up your eyes meet again and you could feel a heat start to rise inside you.

"You've also got to be able to withstand a good bash, can't have you falling on your ass while on the field" Asher said.

You feel your legs grow. The gap between is slowly closing with pure muscle. Soon you find that you can feel your thighs touching each other.

All the while, the heat inside you kept growing. You could feel your excitement rise.

"You need to have a good grip on the ground as well"

Your feet swelled, only able to accommodate size 13 now.

"Of course we like to have fun as well after our games" Asher said, shamelessly staring at the out print of your cock visible on your shorts.

"Like your muscles, we like it massive"

You already knew what was coming. You felt his touch and as he did you could feel your dick grow. It reached a bigger size than you had even seen before.

"Like your teammates, we like it mindless"

You could feel his hands plant themselves on the sides of your face as his face closed in on yours. A pair of lips planted themselves on your face as you felt his stubble rub against your skin.

If you weren't fully excited already, now you were. As you kept kissing Asher you could feel a haze encroach your mind. Every second, you felt your concerns, your worries, everything fading away.

You had reached cloud nine.

As Asher broke contact, he couldn't help but smile.

You were lost in pure bliss. You hadn't even noticed as a slight bit drool escaped from the sides of your mouth.

As a final act Asher stood right up against you. You could feel his crotch straining against yours. As he placed his forehead on yours you could feel new thoughts entering your mind.

Strategies, faces of your teammates, times spent together after practice.

What you would have considered foreign moments ago now felt right, it felt normal.

It felt like it always had been. Like the jock you've always been.

Javier looked behind his back and as he correctly guessed, it's Mrs. Huntington that cannot hide her disappointment

"Andrew! I told you, don't fool around with the technician, his rate is hourly!" said Mrs. Huntington as he called the Latino technician with his son's name

"Unggghhh ffuuuckkk mom.....why are you so....mmpphh early??? You told me that you would be back around 5 PM," replied Javier as his hand still tugging his hardening 6.5 incher slick meat

"Because I cannot trust you, Andrew. And I clearly have the reason for that. Now clean him up and then get yourself out from him. His work is not finished yet,"

"Can I just do his work? I have access to his brain, I can do whatever you paid him to do. Promise I'll finish before 5 and he will have no memory of any of my playtime with him. Heck, I'll even drive him back to his run down flat he shared with his boyfriend Emilio and younger bro, Juan. Three Mexican immigrant tryna make a living in the States.....mmmhhhh.....Juan looked so delicious from his mem---" said Andrew comfortably voicing out his thoughts using Javier's sultry voice and accessing Javier's memories

"Andrew Huntington-Moore......this is yoir last chance. Get out from him before I expelled you from him instead,"

"Grrrr...you are such a buzzkill, mom. You really are out here acting as if you didn't do this kind of shit when you were young,"

"Fun fact, I didn't. My mom and my dad would kill me on the spot if I acted even just 10% like you. Now, I'm serious, get out from him,"

"Okay, okay, chill down, Mrs. Huntington. I'll let your son relinquishes his control over my sexy taut body so you can order me around to fix your home appliances," Andrew said sarcastically as he walked to the bathroom nearby after grabbing his washed-out jeans and blue polo.

"We'll meet again soon enough, dude. And the next time we meet, I'll make sure I'm going to finish spewing that load, you just wait and see,"

I Hopped My Boyfriend

“You hopped me, didn’t you?” my boyfriend confronted me, “I know you did.”

“I didn’t know you’d get angry,” I said.

“I’m not angry, Michael. I don’t mind you hopping into other guys, but I’ve told you. I don’t want you hopping into me.”

“Oh, come on. I think you liked it,” I challenged him, “I think you liked having me inside of you. Controlling you. Manipulating you. I think you liked being nothing more than a Jared costume for me to wear.”

He cast his eyes downward. I continued.

“And I think you really liked that I kept you conscious through it all. Most hoppers don’t do that, you know. But I let you see, feel, and hear everything as I showed off your body in the mirror, felt myself up, tried on your underwear, used your voice to make you say all of those things.”

“And do you know what I liked, Jared? I liked that I could hear you inside the entire time. The noises you were making. You were practically begging me to stay inside of you. I liked the way you moaned when I came, I liked feeling your cum splash out across your abs. I liked tasting it with your lips, licking it off of your fingers using your tongue. And you liked it too, didn’t you?”

“Well,” Jared said.

“Well?”

“Yes. I liked it.”

“So then, why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry. Just ask me next time, OK?”

“So there’s going to be a next time?” I smiled.

He bit his lip and nodded his head “Yes.”

“How about right now?” he suggested. He laid himself out on the bed and gave me an inviting look. How could I resist?

“I’ll be right in,” I said.

James English’s hot roid transformation