The Soldier Lay Down And Rested With A Smirk On His Face. He Was Enjoying The Comfort Of His New Uniform

The soldier lay down and rested with a smirk on his face. He was enjoying the comfort of his new uniform and the sense of power he got from wearing living clothes.

Today was recruiting day and earlier the soldier just so happened to walk past the failed men walking shamefully out of the army base.

He looked at the young men and snapped his fingers. The group shunk and changed into a army uniform set. The soldier undressed, throwing his clothes into the trash and walked over to the uniform showing off his full musky, sweaty, naked body.

“don’t worry, guys, you will still be of some use to the army” he said mockingly.

He pulled the jockstrap from the pile of clothes first and put it on, rubbing his impressive cock through the former mans cloth face, and then Pulling the two socks out and sliding them over his sweaty feet as he wiggled his toes. Next came the shirt, which now tightly clinged lovingly to the soldiers pecs as it absorbed his sweat from his chest and armpits. His new pants were pulled up next, then the boots that would soon be very musky

Now, the brave soldier rests, letting his sweat and godly body corrupt the minds of these former men, so that they can fully serve their new purpose of being the soldiers uniform.

Socker Socks

As per usual, I found myself at the soccer field. My routine never changes – I am there to support and watch my friend Liam's games. I'm his unofficial, most ardent cheerleader. His unwavering spirit and skill on the field are a spectacle I never get tired of. However, this particular day was different, a deviation from the usual soccer-watching routine.

Liam found himself in a predicament. He'd forgotten his soccer socks, a minor yet crucial detail. As proud as he is, he couldn't bring himself to ask any of the other players. The thought of it embarrassed him more than being on the field without socks. In his desperation, he turned to me, asking me to step in. He was well aware of my secret, a remarkable ability to transform. I thought it wouldn't be too bad, so I agreed, brushing off any possible discomfort or inconvenience that might come my way. How wrong I was.

The process of transforming was uneventful, however, it was what followed that truly tested my mettle. As soon as I was transformed and on Liam's foot, he lifted me, and as he slipped the shin guards into place, I came to a stark realization. These shoes, my new temporary home, had been worn by him for an extensive period of time. Their scent was overpowering and pungent, magnified by the close confines. Yet, what was more appalling was that I could taste the stench. The repugnant taste lingered, only to be amplified as Liam's feet began to sweat from the intense gameplay.

The clock was set for a minimum of 90 minutes – an ordinary duration for a soccer match, but a lifetime for me. After enduring for what seemed like an eternity, 110 minutes had finally passed, and the whistle signaled the end of my ordeal. I began the game a pristine white, but I now bore a greenish-brown hue, courtesy of the grass and dirt that the game had thrown my way.

Their team had won, an achievement that shifted Liam's focus from me. Still in my transformed state, he carelessly tossed me into his gym bag, an action he would usually do with his worn and sweaty gear. The harsh zip closing was the final affirmation of my confinement. The team went off to celebrate their victory, leaving me captive in a bag filled with a medley of odors.

Hours passed before Liam returned to collect his bag. He took it home and dumped it in the corner, a spot reserved for laundry. His mother, maintaining her routine, meticulously removed all the items, including me, and put us through the wash. The water was a brief relief, but my relief was short-lived as I ended up back in the sports bag, sealed inside once more, isolated from the world.

The morning sun brought hope of my release. Liam, with a hangover from the previous night's celebration, tried to call me but to no avail. It was during breakfast that realization dawned upon him. He remembered that I had transformed to help him out. A frantic search for yesterday's gear ensued, only to discover they had already been washed. He found me, still trapped in my sock form in the bag, and hastily pulled me out. He began apologizing profusely before I could transform back, preventing me from voicing my ordeal.

I was on the verge of expressing my experience, but Liam, in his guilt, quickly reassured me that this mishap wouldn't recur and he would be more mindful in the future. As I transformed back, I couldn't help but think that it had indeed been an interesting, albeit uncomfortable, way to observe the game – right in the thick of it.

Pride month isn’t over yet, dude! Although your buddy here, his life might be. Yeah, that’s right, man, your homophobic friend here is now part of my Grand Axis swimwear collection for the summer. The magic I worked on him is irreversible, so I hope he can get used to this. Maybe he shouldn’t have called me the F-slur, I mean do you know who I am? Of course you probably don’t. Forget about your pal here, there’s nothing you can do for him now, unless of course you wanna join him as some of my personal briefs too. Could use some blue ones so I can have every color of the rainbow. No?