Permanent Position

Permanent Position

Lucas loved soccer, but his best friend Tom was obsessed. Every practice, every game, Tom never stopped talking about his passion. Lucas often joked about Tom's commitment, but today, things would take a different turn.

It was the start of summer, and the heat was brutal. Lucas had always been slightly envious of Tom's dedication and skill on the field. After another day of listening to Tom's endless soccer talk, Lucas decided to play a prank on his friend.

Without saying a word, Lucas brought out the transformation gun he'd secretly obtained. The idea was simple yet cruel: he'd turn Tom into his soccer socks for the rest of the season. As Tom rambled on about his favorite team, Lucas aimed and fired.

Tom didn't notice the change immediately. One moment he was chatting animatedly, the next he was shrinking, warping, and finally, he was nothing more than a pair of white soccer socks.

Lucas picked up the socks, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Sorry, buddy, but you were just too good at soccer. Time for you to really be part of the game."

He pulled the socks onto his feet, feeling the snug fit. The heat was already making him sweat, and he knew Tom could feel every bit of it. The first few steps were strange, knowing his best friend was now his socks, but Lucas quickly adjusted. He had a game to play.

The match was intense. Lucas ran, jumped, and kicked with all his might, every movement a new agony for Tom. The heightened senses meant Tom felt every ounce of sweat, every painful impact. The stench of the sweat-soaked socks was overpowering, far worse than anything he'd experienced before.

As Lucas sprinted down the field, he could almost hear Tom's silent screams. The thought gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction. "You always wanted to be close to the action, Tom. How's this for close?"

The game continued, and Lucas pushed himself harder, knowing that Tom was suffering with every step. The heat of the summer sun only made things worse, and the socks were drenched by halftime. But Lucas didn't slow down. He played harder, ensuring maximum discomfort for Tom.

After the final whistle blew, Lucas sat on the bench, panting. He could feel the damp, reeking socks clinging to his feet. "Well, Tom, that was quite a game," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "But guess what? You're just too comfortable, I think I am going to keep you like this."

Lucas stood up, feeling the squelch of sweat in his socks. He walked to his locker, knowing Tom was trapped in the suffocating darkness, doomed to endure every game, every practice, and every moment of Lucas's athletic life.

Trapped in the Briefs

“You’re in for it now, Mark. You always complained about my smell, and now you’re going to get a front-row seat,” grinned Ethan, holding the transformation gun. Before Mark could react, Ethan zapped him, and Mark felt his body contort and shrink until he was nothing but Ethan’s tight, musky Gymshark briefs.

Ethan pulled the briefs on, trapping Mark in the suffocating fabric. The smell was overpowering—sweat, musk, and an unbearable staleness filled Mark’s senses. To make matters worse, Mark’s senses were heightened after the transformation. Every smell, touch, and sensation was intensified. “Oh, by the way, I made sure your senses are super sensitive now. Enjoy!” Ethan chuckled.

Ethan, who was dairy intolerant, made sure to consume a large amount of dairy and protein right after putting on Mark. The effect was immediate and brutal. As the day went on, every movement was torture for Mark. The heat, the pressure, and the constant friction were relentless. But the worst was yet to come. Ethan smirked, adjusting his waistband. “Better hold your breath, if you can.”

Without warning, Ethan let out a loud fart, the rancid smell seeping through the fabric and into Mark’s very being. The odor was nauseating, and there was no escape. Ethan made sure to keep consuming dairy products throughout the day, ensuring a steady stream of gas.

Ethan didn’t stop there. It was the middle of summer, and he decided to go for an intense workout session at the gym. The sweat poured off him, soaking into the briefs. Mark was overwhelmed by the combined assault of sweat, musk, and the relentless farting.

Ethan didn’t bother showering after his workout. He wore Mark all day, and by the end, the briefs were soaked with sweat and reeked horribly. The constant sweating and gas attacks were unbearable for Mark.

As night fell, Ethan stripped off the briefs and tossed them carelessly into the laundry hamper. “By the way, you’re going to stay that way for the whole summer,” he laughed. “See you tomorrow, Mark.”

Mark was left to endure the suffocating darkness, dreading the torment that awaited him for the rest of the summer.

To Break in New Clothing

The guy paid me $50 to wear this jockstrap everyday when I went to the gym. He asked that they get exceptionally sweaty. I’m not one to turn down money for dignity, so I agreed.

I had a suspicion of what he was doing with my jockstrap when I gave it back to him, but that just made me more turned on. I took a drink as I rested between sets. With the 3-inch inseam shorts, I could feel the summer breeze airing my puckered hole. I took a breath and rubbed my hand along my hairy chest, smearing the sweat down my abs toward my dick and balls. Speaking of balls, I adjusted them, rubbing the jockstrap cloth deeper into the swampy groin. I guessed I like the thought of the guy inhaling my stench while he jerked off. He wasn’t attractive, but the fact he wanted to breathe in my man musk was enough to make me precum, and maybe I should charge him more for how much of my precum I soaked the dirty jockstrap with.

When I met the guy again, he handed me the money and I made a show of slipping off my shorts, then pulling off the jockstrap. The rush of cool air caused an immediate reaction to my sweaty cock, but I tossed the strap to the guy and dressed myself again. I was hoping for a bit more, but the guy thanked me and left. I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping for some begging, some desperate attempt to check me out, but nope. It was suspicious, so I decided to follow the guy. What was his deal?

It took a while, but I found the guy in the hills out of the city limits. I hid myself behind some rocks, peeking from the corner, conspicuous as I was with no underwear in running shorts. Then what I saw was impossible.

The guy placed the jockstrap on the ground and uttered some words then… the jockstrap transformed into a cute twink. His hair was messy; he was nude; he was drenched in sweat; and he gave a relaxed, content grin to the guy. He looked beyond satisfied. He pulled on some shorts, and it looked as if he had just completed a run. He was so sweaty.

“God, you stink,” the guy said to the nude twink. “Did you enjoy your day out? I can’t imagine why you like it.”

“I enjoyed it,” the twink said. He slurred his words as he was buzzed. A lazy smile melted on his lips. “He was a sweaty boy today. We worked out and he messaged me against his cock. He was getting hard and I drank his precum. I think he likes it just as much as I do.” The twink started to walk towards the guy.

“Hey, stay away. Take a shower first, then pay me.”

“Why would I shower? I wish I could smell like this forever. Maybe you could make me his gym sock, but I would miss his dick. He finally broke me in, but I’m gonna be broke at this rate.”

I could’t believe what I was hearing. This whole time, the jockstrap I wore and abused with my sweat was actually a person. The thought was hot. With this info, I imagined all the ways I could play with this gay guy–make his dreams come true. I stepped from behind the rocks. Both men glanced at me with wide eyes.

“Hey, I’m gonna need my jockstrap back,” I said. I walked closer to the twink. He smelled absolutely ripe. He smelled like my gym bag, and he needed to get back there.

The twink gave a nervous smile and backed away. “Look man, there must be some misunderstanding.”

“No no, I don’t think I missed understood anything. I want my jockstrap back. I’m not finished with it yet.” I stared him in the eye. “Maybe I want gym socks instead or even a cum rag.” I turned to the other guy, “How much to get what I want?”

The guy stammered and settled on $500. “You say these words to change him.” He spoke something in another language. “And if you want him to become something else, just say it also. But make sure you change him human every once in a while.”

“Why?”

“So he can eat.” The guy seemed confused at my question. “And shower and live his life.”

I stared them both in the eye. “He eats when I tell him to and his life is over. My cum rag shouldn’t worry about his life.” I spoke the word and watched the twink shrunk and fell into the street as a piece of clothing. I swear I saw him smiling, and I had smiled back.

Imagining a scenario where a horny young guy hastily agrees to permanently become a guys underwear, yet after it happens he realises the smell is actually torture and he now has no way of verbalising with his new owner his regret. He tries to squirm around to let his owner know how much he hates it, but his owner only misinterprets these as squirms of pleasure, so decides to gift his new underwear with the pleasure of being worn every day for the rest of his life…

Jason had an average body and went to the gym to work out three to five times a week. His other reason for the gym was to check hot athletic guys in their workout gear. He would sometimes imagine what was under their clothe bodies.

Jason's eyes started liking one guy that he noticed was there quite often. A few times, he saw him shirtless. He thought about what he looked like once his clothes were off. He wanted to experience being close to his body almost every day. He finally approached and chatted with the guy. He found out his name was Chad. He expressed his desire to be close to his body. Chad offered him that choice, but it would be permanent. There would be no going back to human life. Jason was so overwhelmed by his desire to feel Chad's body in a special way, that he willingly agreed to permanent ownership just to be an article of clothing on his body.

Chad used his TF gun and turned Jason into a nice pair of Hanes boxer briefs. He put him on and loved the way his new underwear felt. The setting on the TF gun was on permanent reformation. Jason was underwear for life, which didn't bother him since the guy wanted to be worn on his body. He continued to work out another hour and half and drove home without showering to break in his new underwear.

Jason was loving the first ten minutes of being underwear. He felt Chad's body in a way he had never felt a guy's body before. It was when he started sweating and a strong musky odor accumulated on his underwear body. The odor was ten times stronger to smell than when he was human. He thought it couldn't get worse. On the drive home, Chad farted at least several times. That foul odor combined with the musky odor was unbearable. He wanted to be human again and not smell the disgusting stench of his owner. He squirmed and squirmed to get Chad's attention at his displeasure about being underwear. He hoped Chad would use his device and set him free.

Chad felt a ton of squirming from his new property. It felt so good that it got his cock hard. Some precum seeped into his new underwear as a thank you for willingly choosing this life. Chad thought Jason was happy to be his underwear and wanted to show his gratitude. He continued to drive home, thinking about jacking off in Jason as soon as he got home. His underwear seemed happy in its new life and purpose. He was going to baptise his new property in his cum

All the squirming that Jason did, he noticed that all it did was excite Chad's member. The opposite effect he didn't want. He continued to squirm, hoping his owner would sense his discomfort at his new life and show mercy.

One of my wrestlers, Kyle, loves his new singlet. He should, it used to be his buddy Trevor. I transformed Trevor with my special singlet machine I keep in the hidden lair behind my office, about a week ago. Kyle’s been wearing him damn near every day since. He dominates on the mat, wearing the still-conscious singlet that used to be his friend before they had that fight. The more Kyle sweats in the singlet, the more Trevor’s mind gives in to being worn by his new master, and eventually what’s left of his mind will be totally broken in. If we ever wash the singlet, of course, Trevor’s essence will be completely removed from the spandex, and it’ll just be a regular singlet. So, I don’t think Kyle ever wants to wash it.

After every match, Kyle likes to pull down the straps, folding Trevor in on himself in probably an uncomfortable way for him. I think he does this to assert dominance, my boys have all been programmed with an attitude for aggression to make them great wrestlers. While sweating in the singlet makes it more submissive to him, it also makes Kyle more dominant over his singlet, and over his wrestling opponents.

After practice or a long and sweaty match, Kyle usually puts his sweats back on, right over the damp singlet, sealing his old pal Trevor in a hot second layer, turning up the sweat and submission for his subordinate singlet.

Just do as the sock says 😏

#made by a friend