Apologies for the sudden ending on this one. It was either cut it off here, or continue the thing for an entire month. Hopefully I’ll expand it into a proper something at some point!

I didn’t expect him to get up for a couple of days, mind you. Bruce had been through something rather extreme, and I was rather forgiving, so long as I had easy access to his holes to pleasure himself. I woke up that afternoon raring with energy, and I headed right for the gym…where I found a rather sordid affair had developed around the bench where I’d had my way with Bruce the night before. The manager had cleaned up the cum well enough, but the scent had lingered, and any man who wandered too close had been caught in the scent. There were five or six of them clustered around there, jacking off, sucking off, fucking…and as soon as I stepped inside, their heads swiveled toward me, and I joined them for a few minutes, before getting started on my own workout.

Like I said, I had never worked out in my life before this–I’d been a bit tubby, in fact–but this new body of mine, it seemed to have absorbed more than just Bruce’s energy, but quite a bit of his body’s experience as well. Lifting…fuck, feeling this muscular frame lift and move and force and sweat–it got me so horny that I’d have to pull the nearest man over and fuck them every few minutes, the all of them swimming in my scent, enamored with me, hungry for me and only me. I…I spent most of the weekend there. It was such a rush! The men all serving me, eagerly, and when I returned to the office the next week, I called a meeting for all of them men in the office, and within minutes, I had convinced them all how necessary it was to serve me as well.

Home, gym, work–those were the places I existed. Warping men, intensifying my stink, growing my harems. It really was a shame about Bruce–he never could manage to get out of bed, after everything I’d taken from him. I’d been rather hopeful that he could be my muscular brute fucktoy–but instead, he became another pig for Jack to care for and fuck while I was away. Adam was developing nicely, and within a few weeks he’d managed to pack on half the weight he needed to service me again. He was…so close to his goal, when he caught up to me. Now…well, now all of that was gone.

It was my boxers, which had been my mistake. I’d left them stashed in the alley, and when he’d come back for his underwear, he’d found them, and tracked me down. It had been difficult, since I’d covered myself up in so much else, but for a proper stinker, no scent is too faint to track. I’d come home from work and found him waiting for me, and as soon as I caught a whiff of him…fuck. The real fucking thing. I’d just been toying around at the edges, I wasn’t a real stinker. He had me naked in less than a minute, pulled on his underwear–the underwear I’d tried to claim as my own, and forced me to suck out all of the mess I’d made in it over the last few weeks. I…I don’t know how I did it, but I did. When I’d finished, and scent of myself was gone from them–they were his again.

I’d hoped he’d just leave me, but he had something else in store, I discovered. He dragged me out of my apartment, and told me to say goodbye to my men–I wouldn’t be seeing them again. He hauled me down into the basement and shoved me into the trunk of a car and drove off. We made one stop, somewhere, a few minutes, and then we kept going until we pulled in somewhere else, and he hauled me out of the trunk, and into a tiny little studio apartment…and he got me dressed.

A dark brown jockstrap. Camo pants. Grungy wifebeater, a filthy, holey t-shirt three or four sizes too large, a flannel, and a coat over that. Work gloves on my hands. Socks and boots on my feet–big enough to fit my larger size, surprisingly. Lastly, a hard hat…and then…and then he started to jack off. I’d never seen a man pump out as much cum as he did, but he came, and he coated me in his cum–and I mean he coated me in it. It dried quickly, soaking into the clothes he’d forced onto me, and then…and then he’d just left, and now…now nothing will come off.

Something about his cum, it’s stuck every zipper, it’s adhered the cloth to my skin. I can’t even haul off the gloves, forcing me to grope the front of my new pants until I cum in the front of them. Now, though, there’s the voices. I can…I can hear the men in the clothes, their lives, their minds, their desires, warped and twisted by the stinker. They’re getting so loud now, I can barely hear myself…and I think that’s the point.

He told me that for him, the clothes can make the man, and he’s remaking me. He padlocked the door shut, and told me he’d be back when I was finished. I…I don’t remember my own name now. I could a few hours ago, I’d almost forgotten it and had been reminding myself, but it had slipped. It had slipped, and the rest of me is slipping away too. I’m…I’m telling myself the story. I’m telling myself what I did, to try and remind me, but I…I don’t know if I can again. Instead, I smell construction sites, and grungy bathroom gloryholes, and piss and cum on my stubbly lips. I’ve grown a gut, and I think…I think I’m shorter too. Not too much longer, and I’ll be gone.

The one thing of mine that I can still hear clearly, though was this, the last thing he told me: “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

The gym closed at ten, but a little chat with the manager, and he agreed that Bruce needed to continue his workout, so he left the key with me, and I promised to return it to him in the morning. Bruce, on the other hand, was inconsolable. When he realized he was going to have to keep working out all night long, until I was satisfied with the state of his shirt, he pleaded and begged me to let him go, to let him rest, to let him stop for a moment. He was having a hard time walking, his legs were shaking so badly, and I realized that I had worked him nearly to the point of exhaustion. Still, the shirt…it was close. It wa stronger than it had been when I’d first smelled him, in fact, but at this point my greed was getting the better of me. In the end, I told him he could have an hour nap in the sauna, sweating out some of his misery, and then it was back on the floor to keep at it.

He could barely lift anything, at this point, and so I put him on an exercise bike for a couple of hours, sweating him out a bit further, keeping him plenty hydrated, and when he tried one too  many times to get a break by telling me he had to piss, I started just making him piss his shorts on the bike–and let me tell you, when I caught a whiff of that, mixing with his sweat? I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold out for much longer. It was three in the morning when I decided he could finally stop, and that I was satisfied. He tore that tanktop off and handed it to me with a sob of relief that he could finally stop, and I pressed it to my nose, inhaling his stench, ripped off my own shirt and pulled his on, feeling his damp sweat against my skin, and it was like all of the energy he’d put into it began to flood into my body. I was tired too, at this point, but like a strong cup of coffee, suddenly I was awake. I was more than awake, I was eager. He could barely move, but I didn’t need him to move–I just needed to bend him over the bench, tear down his piss sodden shorts, and slide my cock into his tight, virgin hole.

He couldn’t even flinch from the pain–if anything, the cramps in his legs were probably more painful than my fuck was. He’d wanted me to fuck him, after all. He’d been begging me for it for hours–because he knew that when I fucked him, it would be over. He wouldn’t have to workout anymore. However, I was far from done–the longer I wore that tank, the hornier I got, and the stronger I got, and the longer I could go. I remember glancing over at the mirror, and I could see my body swelling with muscle right in front of my eyes–I took a quick break from my fuck to haul off Bruce’s shorts too, and pull them on, shuddering at the piss wet mesh, but I could feel my ass begin to tone up, my thighs and calves too.

When the manager knocked on the door the next morning, wanting to be let in, I was still fucking. Bruce had gone slack hours before, his cock shooting the occasional load–dry by now–just from the friction of rubbing against the leather bench. I had packed on close to forty pounds of muscle–I was even larger than Bruce had been when I’d put on the tank. I made the manager wait a few minutes until I’d shot another load–I’d long since lost count–and when I pulled out, the…sheer volume of cum which flowed back out of his ass, pooling on the floor under the bench…fuck, I realized just how much control I’d lost. I went to the door, opened it…and as soon as the manager smelled the stale air of the gym, his eyes glazed over, he gave a snort, and he started groping the front of his shorts, horny beyond belief, his rational mind slowly shutting down.

I dragged him over to the bench, where he was more than happy to start licking up the puddle of cum from the floor, and I hauled Bruce upright on shaking legs, but he could barely stand. He just wanted to go home, but I still wanted to fuck–still, I couldn’t very well keep fucking him here, right? Even with my musk, I was sure that would get a call from the police at the very least, and I had no real interest in dealing with that. I…I was afraid that if I dealt with that how I knew I could deal with it…then this power really would go to my head. Instead, I got Bruce dressed in some spare clothes the manager had lying around, and then helped him home. Home to my apartment, of course. I knew, from Jack, that he’d just track me down if I left him. He needed me now, and I sure as hell wanted him. Best to just…simplify things. My home would be his home from now on.

It was hard going, down the dawn lit sidewalks. Not to conspicuous, I think–most people probably thought I was just helping my drunk friend home, though why we were dressed in gym gear, especially in weather this cold, was probably a bit of a mystery. The excitement and rush of the clothes was beginning to wear off, and I was starting to realize just how exhausted I was myself. Upstairs in my apartment, I heaved Bruce onto the bed, gave him one last fuck, and then dragged him under my smelly covers and climbed in with him–him naked, me fully clothed in all of my gear, boots and all, hugging him tight,m whispering sweet nothing into his ear while he groaned, telling him how happy he was going to be here, telling him what a privilege it would be for him to serve me and thanking him, of course, for my new gear.