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Any interest in writing straight up gay stuff? I love the g2s ofc but you’re a really good/hot writer and I’d be interested in seeing what you’d do with other kinks

Absolutely! I have many gay-themed ideas, some even less sexual and more romantic. I guess I've kept them on the back burner because I've cultivated an audience that is used to me primarily doing G2S and I just assumed they wouldn't really care for the regular old gay stuff, but I might be wrong?

Would you guys like that?

Conversion in the Deep

Far from land and deep in the sea, lives a world undiscovered by humanity. In an underwater kingdom where merpeople not only exist but thrive. Ruling over them is King Lyle, his wife, and his only offspring, Prince Dorian.

On the morning of his 25th birthday, Dorian was not his usual cheerful self but distressed, swimming back and forth in one of the castle's many gardens. "What kind of a birthday surprise was that?!" He was utterly flabbergasted over what his father had sprung on him only a half hour ago. "An arranged marriage?! With a mermaid, no less! When is he gonna get it through that thick head of his that I'm gay! Gay, gay gay!"

Unbeknownst to Dorian, his future bride, Princess Alana, was not far behind, watching and following him in curious wonderment. She couldn't help but eavesdrop. Neither could the royal guards. "It has to be a joke?" Dorian questioned, trying to keep his head on straight. "I'm sure that's what it is! There's no way my father is that-" Dorian was too lost in his own head to realize Alana had swam up behind him. So when he abruptly flipped around. Boom! They smacked right into one another, face-on. They were mere centimeters away from accidentally kissing, causing Dorian's face to immediately blush from embarrassment—he was redder than a cooked crab. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!"

"It's okay! I should have said something." Alana insisted, hoping to soothe Dorian's embarrassment. She smirked slightly, thoroughly amused with how awkwardly cute Dorian's nervous expression was. That pared with his muscular build making him even sexier. She swam back slightly to give them some breathing space, easing him further. However, she couldn't help but give in to her feminine wiles. "I hope you blush as cutiely on our wedding day."

"About that," Dorian anxiously gulped, assuming Alana was just kidding but didn't like the glimmer of sincere lust in her eye. He took a deep breath, hoping to reason with her. "Look, you must think this whole arrangement is as crazy as I do, right? I mean, we don't even know each other! It would never work out! I'm just not made for this kind of marriage!"

Alana looked confused, almost hurt by what he said—her heartbroken expression made Dorian uneasy, filling him with bizarre guilt. "Why not?"

Dorain gently grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to a nearby rock formation, out of the guard's sight. "I don't know how to break this to you other than spitting it right out: I'm gay. I'm incapable of giving you a happy marriage."

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Alana smiled slightly, inching herself closer to him. She laid her small hand on his massive bicep, making him unexpectedly quiver in titillation. "They don't call marriage hard work for no reason."

"What?" Dorain was surprised by her reaction or lack thereof. It's as if his confession went right over her head. "Didn't you hear me? I'm gay. Like, really gay!"

"You think you're the first?" Alana plainly said, brushing her fin against his. "It's not like this hasn't happened before. It has, and it's worked out." Dorian was stunned, frozen in disbelief but her calm demeanor. Throwing him off further, she swam around him, eyeing him like a delicious piece of meat. "Just take my parents for example."

Dorian's eyes lit up in shock, watching her confidently swim around him, trying hard not to stare at her perfect tits. "What do you mean?!"

"A long time ago, my father was in the same position you're in right now," Alana nonchalantly answered, stopping back in front of him. She seductively bit her bottom lip, still processing how unbelievably muscular Dorian was—a true muscle god.

"You mean, King Trenton is gay?!" Dorian questioned in disbelief. He couldn't figure Alana out or why he felt so funny. The more Alana talked the more smitten he weirdly became, confusing him more.

"He is, well, was. I guess you can say it's complicated, but love will do that. "Alana answered, her eyes kept making their way to his genital slit. She swam closer to him, forcing him back against the large rock formation behind him.

Inside Dorian was a swirling mess of emotions. He felt both frightened and turned on by her, which didn't make sense. He was gay, but her obvious lust for him was making him unbelievably horny. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly enamored with her as if a switch abruptly went off in his brain. "I don't understand?"

"I'm not surprised," Alama smirked, with an all-knowing look. She moved her hand up his ripped chest, making him quiver. She then gently grazed his firm nipples, which made him gasp. He was blushing uncontrollably. "God, you're so cute when you're nervous."

"Alana, please. I can't!" Dorian's heart was racing, enthralled with her heavenly touch. How could he want her so badly?

"Do you want me to show you?" Alana seductively asked, purposefully ignoring Dorian's growing concern. She moved her hand back down his perfectly toned body, heading for the genital slit in the front of his tail.

"Show me what?" Dorian asked, trying his best to keep his voice down to not draw the guard's attention. He wanted to moan so badly but kept it from coming out, which was hard to do. A few minutes ago, the idea of being in this type of situation with a mermaid repulsed him, but the reality of it only turned him on. It felt as if his body was acting on its own, out of his mental control. Was it primal instinct? Was it pure madness?

"Do you want me to show you exactly how my mother turned my gay father into a mermaid lover?" Alana rephrased, eyeing Dorian's plump lips in lustful hunger. She put her other arm around him, feeling up his manly backside. "How?" Dorian nervously asked, afraid yet intensely curious of the answer. Alana moved her hand over his slit, sensually rubbing it. His prehensile penis was in danger of popping out. "Oh, fuck." Dorian quietly moaned, trying not to alert the guard's attention. "Why aren't I stopping her?!" He thought. "Why does her touch feel so right? Why is her voice pure music to his ears? Why do I want to fuck her like a primal sea beast? How could I suddenly be so damn horny for a mermaid?!" He couldn't help but moan in sexual agony. "I don't understand why I feel so-?"

"Horny?" Alana answered, already knowing what he was gonna say. Her tone was dripping with lust, she was just as horny as he was.

Dorian sensually moaned again, unable to resist letting his massive prehensile penis finally emerge from its slit, all 13 inches of glorious man meat. Alana licked her lips, reached out her hand, and gently grasped it. Dorian moaned again, only this time more desperate. She stroked him, unable to believe the enormous size of his throbbing member. He instinctually grabbed her waist, unexpectedly loving how manly he instantly felt. They gazed at each other like lovers, as if they would passionately kiss at any moment.

"What's happening to me?" Dorian loudly pleaded, not caring if they got caught. Actually, the thought of his gay self getting caught with a mermaid was an unexpected turn-on. He then moaned loader, letting himself give in to his lust even more.

"My family's powers," Alana finally answered, after stroking him a bit more. "The mermaids in my family have a certain way with mermen. We can bring out whatever we want from them, able to mold them like clay. And the best part, the mermen love it. It's a win-win. Everybodys happy. Even if it takes a little persuading to get there." Alana slowed her stroking and played with the tip of his tapering penis with her finger, edging his lust even further. "You can't tell me it doesn't feel good, that I don't make you feel good."

Dorian moaned again in lustful agony, reluctantly loving how her finger teased his sensitive tip. None of it made sense, but he was starting to not care. All he knew was he felt good and beginning to enjoy himself. As hard as he tried, his lust was winning. He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze burning with passion. He didn't want her to stop. Damned it be her doing or not. He wanted more.

"There must be a part of you that's always secretly wanted to be normal, to be the prince your father always wanted." Alana picked her pace back up, grasping him tighter. She could sense his temptation to fully give in and was hellbent on making sure he did. "Allow me to make that secret desire a reality. Give in to me."

"Oh, fuck!" Dorian aggressively moaned, grasping the ridges of the rocks behind him. Her touch was pure heaven, winning him over. His gay resistance was hanging on by a tread.

"I'll be the perfect wife," Alana assured him, knowing she was close to fully having him. "And will make the most beautiful babies."

"Alana… I-" Dorian could barely speak, only able to moan in utter pleasure as Alana stroked him even faster. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the guards watching them with cocky grins.

"I want to breed with you," Alana hornily begged, wrapping her tail around his. Her smutty confession surprising Dorian but turning him on more.

"I want…" Dorian bit his lip, not wanting to let the rest of his words escape. The small part of himself that was resisting cried out, not wanting to give in. However, the second after Alana ripped off the shell bra off her huge tits to reveal her juicy nipples, it was over. Any last shred of resistance evaporated. With that, he finally let the truth bubbling inside him surface out of his quivering mouth. "I want to breed with you, too!!!"

And thus they finally kissed—french kissing, indulging themselves completely in their lust for one another. Her small feminine body against his massive masculine frame was electrifying. He plunged his rugged face into her huge soft tits, sucking on them like his life depended on it. Seconds later he had his thick fingers in her tight slit, making her moan like a merslut—fueling his testosterone even more. Never in his life had he felt so masculine. He didn't give a damn if the guards were watching. In fact, he wanted them to watch. He wished everyone was here to see him finally become a real man. Dorian figured this new way of thinking was all Alana's doing, but he didn't care. It felt too good to fight. Still gay or not, it didn't matter. He was hooked and couldn't wait till the wedding night.

Just for fun, Louis and Jason liked to split a conversion pill between them. They'd place it on one of their tongues and French kiss until it dissolved completely, enjoying its magic properties in utter lust. The erotic intensity of swapping spit with your lover as pussy cravings overfill your gay mind. It's a pleasure unmatched. They highly recommend it ;)

I took a nap and woke up fantasizing about tits, pussy, and breeding. I was even humping my bed, that's what woke me. I haven't jerked off in a bit, so I assume that's why... (and yes, my morning wood, or I guess nap wood??? was insane!)

"Get a piercing," they said. "It'd be cool," they said. I've always struggled with resisting peer pressure. Just my luck, getting pierced by a witch or whatever he was. I knew I saw his eyes glow purple when he pierced my sensitive nip, but none of my stupid friends would believe me! Fuck, my body won't stop growing. I can't believe how much muscle I've put on! A few minutes ago I was a scrawny twink and now I look like I could go head-to-head with the jocks on the football team! I'd probably win too, with these new massive biceps. My god, why does it have to feel so fucking good! I don't want to be a dumb jock, but losing my brain feels better than any orgasm!

Devon Pink NSFW Is Now on Blogger!

Over 90% of you guys were saying yes, so I decided to just post the link early.

I will be updating the blog as the day goes on. I hope you guys like it :)

I'm your average girly girl of a cheerleader who hears the football team complain how hard they have it compared to us cheerleaders. Can you make me one of them so I can show them how easy they have it?

Easy as Pie

Jocks have a lot of nerve to complain about their so-called struggles. They have it so much easier than us cheerleaders! I've gotten more praise from throwing around a filthy pig skin in my first few days of being a jock than my entire cheerleading career. Everyone looks at you like a god, the absolute peek of masculine performance! It's so wild having everyone suddenly respect you! I've never felt like such a man, a real man!

I have to confess, it's been a little addicting.

I initially took a jockification potion that only lasted three days, but I'm on my third week. I just can't help myself. Jocks just have it so easy! I'm running out of time, though. In my haste to keep my jock life going, I accidentally took a potion that keeps my transformation permanent if I cum before the timer runs out, which is tonight. It should be an easy thing to avoid, but when you're a jock with raging testosterone, sex is all you think about. I can't keep my lustful eyes off the cheerleaders, and I don't mean the male ones.

I guess that's one thing I forgot to mention, these positions fuck with your sexuality! Like, a lot!

Suddenly being into the opposite sex was a hard pill to swallow at first, but fuck have I gotten used to it. I've jerked off to straight porn every night and have even gotten sucked off a few times by the sluttiest girl on the cheerleading team, who happens to be my old fag hag! I gotta admit, she's got a great mouth on her! Better than any guy I've had. Fuck… just fantasizing about what that pierced tongue of hers can do is getting me hard… she does live across the street… one little peek out my window into hers wouldn't be so… oh fuck!! She's naked!!! Did she just get out of the shower? Fuck, she did! Oh my god, that fucking body of hers! Those tits! That pussy! That fucking ass! …Where's my damn phone! I need her now!!!

What do you think got you into this kink?

Well, being a gay man, I feel like G2S scratches that taboo itch quite nicely. Also, making my own content gives me a sense of "power" over it, allowing me to enjoy it even further.

I wasn't always someone who enjoyed it, though. I was quite offended in the beginning, but I kept coming back to it. I guess it planted a seed and I kept watering it, if only for curiosity's sake at first. It wasn't too long till I was fully in and a huge fan.

It's just so damn hot to me and never gets old.

Spoiled Brats Get What They Deserve

There's nothing more insufferable than rich boys, pretty ones at that. Everything is handed to them on a silver platter, all thanks to Daddy's credit card. Their lives equate to nothing more than looking good, all with a repulsing self-indulgent grin.

They always get what they want… so why not switch things up and give them what they deserve.

Starting with him, Carmine. Just look at this pompous jackass. Lounging on Daddy's expensive yacht and sipping on Daddy's expensive imported tea without a care. Zero hardship. Zero stress.

Let's ruin the spoiled brat, shall we?

How about... being kidnapped in the middle of the night and shipped off to BootCamp!

That should do just the trick, don't you agree?

Just imagine the grave look on Carmine's pretty face when he discovers all the rigorous chores and workouts he must do to earn his freedom back. Long grueling days and nights of exhausting hard work, sweating like a beast and even smelling like one. Showers are hardly rewarded. The stink makes the man, after all. He'll end up putting on 20… no, 30… no, 50! Yes, 50 pounds of manly muscle! Forcefully bulked up to 280lbs!

Glorious, just look at Carmine now! Left on Daddy's doorstep in utter defeat! Naturally, his brain had to shrink to the size of a peanut to make room for all that masculine muscle! Dumb as a brick and swole as a god, indistinguishable from his Daddy's handymen—that he so often made fun of. The BootCamp even branded him with a tat, something they do to all their victims... I mean, guests.

Perfect. Simply, perfect.

Will be posting a new story (and answering anon asks) in the next few days!

Also, today's my 30th birthday :)

Could you do a gay-to-straight story about a guy growing a beard and finding it's getting him a lot of female attention, and then he starts acting the way he's perceived?

A New Chapter

Armond was always a hottie, but growing out his bread made him a bonified hunk. It got him a lot more attention from the men… but more from the ladies. Women suddenly saw him as a daddy, which was far from who he was, but the perception weirdly turned him on… just a little… well, a lot, but he didn't want to admit it.

After a while, when every female interaction became a gush fest, he couldn't help but give in… at least a little! How could a hot gay stud resist flexing like a cocky douche, with a flirtatious wink and killer sexy smile? How could he resist giving them a taste of his lips… and cock? His fat gay cock makes their pussies stretch in all the right ways… how could he resist giving them such intense pleasure? How could he not creampie them, bro?

Fuck, bro. He'll have women in the palms of his manly hands for life! …Lucky bastard!

A little nervous, a lot excited. David's cock couldn't be any harder, leaking pre like a broken facet in anticipation for the new experience of fucking pussy. Most men get a tattoo or get stinking drunk when they turn 40, but gay David thought, "Why not lose my gold star?" His buddies are gonna lose their shit in shock and elation when he tells them all about it tomorrow morning, epically the part about not using a condom and creampieing her.

As if you stood a chance, biker boy. You really thought he was gonna give you that vasectomy you wanted? Such a silly boy, indeed.

What you truly need, is a life of rigid tradition. No more partying. No more profanity. No more meaningless one-night stands. Conformity is what you need, it's what all good boys want and you're a good boy, right? Of course, you are! Such a good, good boy. Good boys aren't rebels. They're conformists, rigid conformists. Good boys don't party and sleep around, they find the perfect good girl to settle down with. That means only girls from now on, out with the bi and in with the straight. A straight life is a perfect life, it's what all good boys are and you're a good boy, right? Of course you are, straight boy. You're such a good boy. A very, very good boy.

None of them have realized that they're losing more and more IQ as the shoot goes on. With each flash, they become more mindless and submissive. Pretty soon, all three of them will be as dumb as a bag of rocks. Only wanting to serve, worship, and obey their master.

Plant Sitting

Giovanni was baffled at the exorbitant amount his dilfy next-door neighbor, Dane, had offered him to plant sit for the night. That is until he saw the singular plant, an abnormally giant Venus flytrap, the biggest he'd ever encountered. With further surprise, Dane told him the Venus fly trap mainly lived off human fluids, primarily saliva. It intimidated him, the massive scale of the carnivorous plant, but he couldn't turn down getting paid the equivalent of one year's rent.

The first hour. Giovanni spat on the mouth like leaves of the Venus flytrap, amazed at how it seemed to swallow it like a human. After which, he explored the apartment, admiring the fine decor. Walking down the hall into the bedroom, he pondered how odd Dane had behaved earlier; he was robotic, almost alien-like. Giovanni then entered the walk-in bedroom closet, dazzled by many exquisitely tailored suits. He ran his fingers over them, elated by the feel of expensive fabrics. Strangely, one of the suits was coated in a sticky green substance.

The second hour. Giovanni fed the Venus flytrap his saliva again, perplexed at how bigger it had gotten, almost twice in size. The stem of the plant was particularly alarming. It was swollen, slightly pulsating. He decided to explore the apartment further to take his mind off the weirdness. He opened Dane's dresser drawer, amazed to find a collection of expensive cologne. He sprayed one, captivated by the luxurious scent. Again, he found the same sticky green substance on a few bottles.

The third and final hour. The Venus flytrap had grown significantly more, freaking Giovanni out. It was huge, almost his exact size in scale. The stem was engorged and pulsating like a heartbeat. He didn't want to go near it but remembered the sizeable pay and reluctantly fed it his spit for the final time.

Shortly after, Dane finally returned. "Thank god you're back! Look at the size of this thing!" Giovanni frantically pointed to the gigantic pulsating plant. Dane only smirked, pleased with the size. He walked up to it and ran his hand over the stem like an expecting father would over his pregnant wife's belly. The Venus flytrap pulsated harder, the stem seemingly pushing something up to its leaves. A large hole opened at the center of its leaves, pushing something out. Giovanni was horrified, realizing the plant was pushing out a fully grown, naked human male. The freshly birthed man oozed onto the floor, covered in green goo, the same goo as on the suit and bottles of cologne Giovanni had come across earlier. Giovanni's repulsion heightened when he shockingly realized the human male looked exactly like him, minus the tattoos and piercings. "What the fuck?!" Giovanni was too distracted by the unworldly plant birth to notice Dane walk menacingly over to him.

"Mind your language, boy!" Giovanni unexpectedly heard Dane rebuke from behind him. As Giovanni turned around, horrified, Dane pushed him hard, forcing him into the plant's hungry open mouth.

Within seconds, Giovanni was gobbled up, in one single delicious bite. His screams could be heard transcending down the stem of the plant, trying with all his might to escape. However, when he made it to the bottom, all that could be heard was deafening silence. It was over. Giovanni was gone. But the new and improved Giovanni was here to stay. The new Giovanni, birthed only moments ago, awkwardly stood up, the goo covering his body splatting to the floor as he caught his balance. A slight breeze across his naked wet body made him ache in sexual distress. He gazed at Dane, like a sheep in desperate need of his shepherd.

"Come boy." Dane put his hand out, whimsically grinning like a new father. And the new Giovanni did just that, his cock hardening as he took Dane's firm hand. They walked off to the shower, Dane giving Giovanni's goo-covered ass a nice feel and smack as they closed the bathroom door behind them.

For the next few hours, Dane's apartment was filled with the heavenly sounds of sucking and fucking. Dane and the new Giovanni explored each other thoroughly, not missing a single spot with their hands or tongues. They fucked from the shower to the bed, not missing a single beat. By daybreak, after getting not much sleep, they awoke in each other's arms, ready to begin their new lives as master and slave, or in Dane's eyes, proper lovers. Dane ordered Giovanni to get up, bathe, and get dressed, which he did with a loving smile.

Dane lay in their bed with his arms smugly behind his head, watching Giovanni use some of the Venus flytrap goo lying about as hair gel. Giovanni's concentration couldn't be broken, hell-bent on perfection. Every single hair needed to be in its rightful place, for his loving master.

In His Father's Shoes

With bated breath, Timothy tiptoed into the family's home office. Hoping to find his stashed birthday present, but instead found his father, Tim. Tim's smug expression made it clear Timothy's entrance was expected.

"Don't even bother pretending to be surprised this time, Jr. I catch you every year trying to sneak a peek at your birthday present." Tim snickered.

Timothy laughed. "Fine. Fine. So, what's the punishment, old man?"

"No punishment," Tim said plainly. "In fact, I'm going to reward your childishly devious behavior. You can have your present early this year."

Timothy beamed with surprise. "What!? Really!?"

Tim's expression got even smugger. With one foot, he gently pushed his kicked-off and well-polished dress shoes in front of his son. "Happy birthday, Jr."

Timothy's expression quickly went from joyous anticipation to disappointed confusion. "Your… shoes? That's my present?! You're joking, right!?"

"Try them on." Tim teased, pushing the shoes closer to Timothy.

Timothy's confusion only grew as he looked down at his father's, well, his new shoes.

"Where's the enthusiasm? Where's the gratitude?" Tim teased even further.

Timothy sighed, slightly smirking and jokingly rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'll humor you, old man. But I better get my real present after!"

With a raised eyebrow of suspicion, Timothy slipped his bare size 9 feet into his father's size 12 dress shoes. The shoes clearly hadn't been off his father's feet long - warm like a heated blanket. Oddly, the warmth was comforting to Timothy.

"How are they, Jr?" Tim teased.

Timothy exaggerated the look of confusion on his face. "Strange… they're a little too big for me."

"You can't fool me, Jr." Tim teased, slightly less playful this time. "You love them."

"Okay, Dad. No more fooling around. Where's my real-" Timothy lost all thought, silenced by a faint voice suddenly popping into his head. "He's right. You do love them. You could easily spend all day standing here in your father's shoes… your shoes."

"You look a little tense all of a sudden, Jr." Tim teased. "You're hanging out with your old man. Nothing stressful about that. Just relax."

"He's right. Your father is always right. Relax. Relax. Relax." the voice droned, this time louder than before. The word "Relax" echoed through Timothy's mind, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Suddenly, Timothy felt as if he had just gotten done having a full body massage - every inch of him utterly relaxed.

"There, much better." Tim relished in his son's newly calm expression. "You feel nothing but relaxed. Too relaxed to think. Too relaxed to do anything but stand there. Let all thought dissipate. Let it all evaporate. Clear your mind completely. Let my words be the only thing that resides within your mind."

"No thoughts of your own. Only fathers. Only fathers. Only fathers." the voice rang throughout Timothy's head, erasing all apprehension. He felt blank. Empty and still, like a statue.

Tim maliciously smirked. "My words are truth. My words are your reality. Do you know why, Jr? Because I'm your father. I made you. I'm your creator, your god."

"He made you. He created you. You're his son, his creation. He owns you. Owns your body. Owns your mind." the voice droned, no longer resembling a stranger but his very own inner voice. Suddenly, Timothy was washed over by a wave of faith, deifying his father in his mind.

Tim looked his unmoving son up and down, grinning like a supervillain, enjoying every second of his son's blank expression. Trying to contain his laughter as Timothy began to drool. "You know, those shoes are a little big on you." he teased, his eyes now on the perfectly-polished dress shoes. "Big shoes require big feet. Size 12 feet."

"Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet." Timothy's new inner voice droned. His feet vibrated, slowly expanding and widening, stopping only when his feet fit perfectly into the shoes.

"Much, much better." Tim smiled, but his satisfied smile only lasted for a moment. "Hmm, now your feet are almost too big for your body, Jr! Big feet belong on a tall, meaty body."

"Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty." Timothy's inner voice droned. His ankles pulsed, spreading up through his entire body. His clothes tore as his legs stretched and thickened; torso broadened; butt swelled; chest expanded; neck and arms bulked. Timothy was now as tall and wide as his father.

"Perfect. Simply perfect." Tim was beyond thrilled with his son's new and improved physique. "Hmm, that baby face of yours doesn't quite match your new masculine physique, does it, Jr? A strong, masculine face is what a masculine body requires. A face like mine. My face."

"Father's face. Father's face. Father's face." Timothy's inner voice droned. His face pulsed, losing all sense of boyishness as it morphed into chiseled statuesque perfection. His wavy hair receded, leaving it short and more mature. His face now resembled his father's exactly - a mirror image.

"Perfect. However, Do you know what should come from such a manly face? A deep, manly voice. A voice like mine. My voice." Tim scoffed.

"Father's voice. Father's voice. Father's voice." Timothy's inner voice droned. His newly thickened neck vibrated, significantly jutting his Adam's apple.

"Let's hear that new manly voice in action, shall we, Jr?" Tim teased. "Speak, boy."

"Sir, yes, Sir." Timothy expressionlessly stated. His voice now identically resembled his father's - deep, rugged, and undoubtedly manly.

Tim's satisfactory smirk returned. "Perfection." He got up from his chair and walked up to his son. He softly caressed his son's newly chiseled jawline with his index finger, examining him like a freshly chiseled statue. He then looked directly into his son's eyes. "You may look empty, but I know you're still in there, Jr."

Timothy looked like he checked out long ago, but, in reality, he'd been watching from afar. Locked away in the empty darkness. Trapped in his own mind - a helpless observer. Forced to watch himself be converted into his father's likeness.

Tim maniacally grinned, once aging, gazing back down at the perfectly polished dress shoes his new and improved son was wearing. "You know what they say about big feet, Jr.: Big feet. Big meat."

"Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat." Timothy's inner voice droned. His crotch vibrated, swelling and growing. His already torn pants tore more as his cock released itself. He now had a thick, juicy member between his legs: just like his father - exactly like his father.

"Perfect!" Tim sat back down in his chair. He looked his son up and down once more, prideful in his work. "Now, you resemble me completely. However, the body must match the mind, Jr. My body. My mind."

"Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind." Timothy's inner voice droned. Suddenly, he has flooded with his father's interests and personality. Far back in the darkness, Timothy felt himself disappearing - not evaporating but sinking. Falling further into darker nothingness as his father's mind replaced his own.

"Sink, boy," Tim commanded. "Lose yourself to me. Feel yourself drain into your balls. Fill them. Swell them with your essence."

Timothy sunk further, now melting into his balls. Losing all sense of humanity as he morphed into thick, hot cum. Timothy's cock stiffened as his balls swelled with his old self. A small part of himself still hung on by a thread.

"Let go, boy," Tim commanded, his malicious grin beaming ear to ear.

Timothy's newly low-hanging swelled balls pulsed. The small part of Timothy that remained filled with dread, as he knew his time was soon up. His newly-thick member stiffened to an uncomfortable degree, ready to fire off at any moment.

"Cum!" Tim demanded.

With that came a massive load. What was left of Timothy's mind jettisoned out onto the floor. Timothy was now nothing but a sticky mess on the home office carpet. With a moan of gleeful satisfaction, Tim pressed his beautifully shaped, perfectly adorned foot into the puddle of his son's expelled essence. He wiggled his toes around, absorbing his son into his warm, sweaty dress socks - enriching the masculine scent of his godly size 12 feet. Timothy was gone. All that remained was Tim.

Suited

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Good Boy

Mindless, subservient, and sparkling clean-the perfect male specimen.

Every man should strive for such greatness, don't you agree?

A good boy would agree.

Aren't you a good boy?

Of course, you're a good boy.

You believe all men should have their rebellious minds whipped clean and made agreeable. Only regurgitating the same empty conversations over and over again in mindless bliss.

See, you're a good boy.

Good boys believe men should never have to deal with the pressure of being an individual. They should simply fall in line and obey the rigid path society has neatly laid out for them.

You believe that, right?

Of course, you do. You're a good boy. A very, very good boy.

Good boys are conformists. Good boys follow the crowd. Good boys perfectly fit the mold of a preppy, subservient, clean boy.

You're such a good boy.

Good boys are groomed to perfection, not a single hair out of place. A good boy's body perfectly resembles his brain, soft and smooth. Shaved to perfection.

Isn't that right, good boy?

You're such a good boy. A very, very good boy.

Good boys are mindless, subservient, and sparkling clean.

You're a good boy.

You're a good boy.

You're a very, very good boy.

For deleted posts and the NSFW stuff I can't post on here:

Made to Be Male

Brandi was thrilled when her custom "Made to Be Male" undies finally arrived. Unfortunately, to her disappointment, the front was a bit loose. The space was obviously made for a pair of cock and balls and she couldn't understand why? It wasn't as if she ordered male underwear by mistake. The brand is exclusively designed for women. There is no male option! How could they make such a glaring mistake?

Was it a mistake? But of course not. It wasn't made for Brandi, but Brandon.

Most people don't understand why a female underwear line is called "Made to Be Male" until they slip themselves into a pair. Its magical cotton transforms the feminine into 100% masculine perfection within moments. Before Brandi could put two and two together, her brain went from pink to blue. Her muscles swelled and bulged, her abs shredded, and she shot up almost an entire foot. Her breasts deflated and shifted into tight perky masculine pecs. Her hair shortened and a beard formed across her newly chiseled face.

Brandon was born and he was a man undeniably, with big feet and an even bigger cock! His sweaty, hairy pits reeked of a locker room, he was a man all right! What's Brandi's, I mean, Brandon's boyfriend gonna think when he gets home from work? Especially since Brandon is a top! Just thinking of his boyfriend's virgin hole is making Brandon horny with anticipation, ready to pounce and fuck!

Young, in love, and dancing the night away. Nothing could get in their gay way, or so they thought. As we all well know, alcohol can make the unlikely easily possible.

Later that same night, after both getting utterly shitfaced, they ended up bringing a woman home and fucked her till there wasn't an ounce of cum left in their low-hanging nuts.

The next morning, the afterglow was gone, and embarrassment stood alone. They just wanted to forget about it, but unfortunately couldn't. After experiencing what it's like to use their cocks correctly, they couldn't get it up for each other anymore. They tried and tried, but their gay sex life was over.

With heavy hearts, they reluctantly gave in to their new hetero cocks and broke up. They never had sex with another man for the rest of their lives, but had plenty of fantastic sex with women.

hey im nonbinary and i havent shaved in a few days so my beard is coming in. my friends say i look better and my boyfriend says he thinks id make a hot man. can you help me embrace being a man and give me a body to match?

No problem, bro.

Not only will I give you the body, but the attitude to match: a cocky alpha who takes zero shit from anyone.

Not like anyone's gonna give you shit when you look like this, bro!

Just ask your boyfriend.

You show him no mercy in the bedroom, bro. That is if you're patient enough to even make it to the bedroom. Which isn't often, bro. But you can't help yourself, bro. It's all that primal alpha testosterone rushing through you, bro.

When you're not wrecking your boyfriend's hole, you're at the gym: your second home. You're a fearless beast addicted to the pump and grind of his workout, bro. You go till your arms are mush and you're drenched in sweat, like any true alpha beast.

You've even dropped the nonbinary label, bro. Can't blame you. You're an unmistakably 100% masculine man now, bro!!

Logan wishes his ex, Evan, was here to see this. Before this heavenly sweaty moment, Logan was a man who considered himself 100% gay. His ex used to identify like that too until he lost his gold star one drunken night.

Logan hated losing his gay boyfriend to pussy, to the point of getting a chronic rage boner. He needed relief. He needed to punish. So, he tracked down the horny slut that converted his ex and fucked her like a ferocious beast. She was loving his fag cock, pissing him off even more. He filled her with load after load, hoping to curse her with an unwanted little bastard, but only ended up unexpectedly turning himself on. The image of her swollen pregnant belly in his gay mind made him unspeakably horny, turning his fiery rage into scorching pleasure. By his fifth orgasm, he was as deliriously horny as she was, having completely forgotten his main intent.

He'd fucked the gay way, just like Evan.

Happy Father's Day

To Luke's surprise, he got a Father's Day card in the mail. Being a 20-year-old gay twink who'd never done a thing with a woman, much less had a kid with one, it was clearly sent by mistake. He would've sent it back, but there was no return address. He considered tossing it, but the bizarre symbols marked meticulously around the card's borders piqued his curiosity. He flipped it open to unexpectedly find no name written.

Suddenly, a drop of blood trickled down the card. In shock, Luke discovered the card's sharp edges had given him a large paper cut across his right index finger. He didn't even feel it. His fresh wound then miraculously healed, as if by magic. In utter horror, he dropped the card, realizing his name was now it, written in his blood. The card was alive, and his fate was now sealed.

A sharp pain abruptly went up Luke's body, frightening him to hell and back. He's knees buckled, feeling all energy leave his body. He stumbled to the ground, feeling as if he could pass out. The room felt like it was spinning, shifting, and morphing. In seconds, he was out cold.

Luke awoke only a few minutes later. Confused, he looked around. He seemed to be in a completely different apartment. He felt like shit. Never, even after his worst bender, did he feel so bad. Oddly, as he stumbled to his feet, he felt heavier and taller.

"Are you okay, dad?" Luke suddenly heard a small voice say behind him. It was a kid, two of them. He stepped back, confused and disturbed as to why they resembled him. One of them then put out their hand, holding a crudely made card. "We made you a Father's Day card! Will that make you feel better?!"

"I, uh, um… Thank you." Luke didn't know what to say but the obvious. A cold chill went down his spine, taking the card from the small child. He then rushed to the bathroom as fast as he could. "I need to use the restroom real quick!"

Luke locked the bathroom door behind him and took a deep breath, trying not to panic. However, panic was all he could do when he finally saw his reflection in the mirror.

Luke was no longer a twink but a manly daddy. It was as if he jumped forward in time, looking like he was now in his late thirties. Family photos hung above the towel rake, his family: He, his wife, and their two kids. Luke didn't know what to do or feel, utterly frozen in disbelief. The only thing that remained from his previous life was the underwear he had on, stretched tight due to his new massive size. His gay life was over. His new straight life had just begun.