In His Father's Shoes

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.

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?

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!

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

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!!!

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.