Interactive: Frat Daddy (Part 2)

“Come on boys, time to get those asses up. We have a lot to discuss today, because we’re going to be making a few changes around here.”

The young men of Phi Beta Alpha all moaned a bit, still struggling with their hangovers and their recollections of their first wild party under their new Frat Daddy. Tyler sat up on the couch where he must have collapsed, looked at their frat’s Daddy sitting in a high backed chair in front of the fireplace, a mug of coffee steaming on the small table beside him, and a cigar burning in his other hand, and tried to remember the man from the night before.

He’d been older, but rather unassuming. Average build. He could almost recall glasses, but he wasn’t sure. A beard, but a rather thin one. Not unattractive, but not particularly striking either. He’d been wearing khakis, a button down shirt, no tie. The man sitting in the chair before them, however, only vaguely resembled the man from his memory. It was hard to take in anything other than the clothes at first, the leather boots shining in the light of the morning sun through the window, chaps stretched tight across Daddy’s thick thighs and calves, his monstrous cock and balls exposed, lying against the side of his thigh. He had on no shirt, just a leather vest and an armband with the insignia of PBA made from steel studs. The same insignia was on the leather muir cap he was wearing.

Under the gear, the man was simply massive. It was difficult to tell because he was sitting, but he had to be over six feet tall, perhaps by several inches. His shoulders were broad, chest and torso shaped like a barrel, packed with muscle and a tight muscle gut underneath. There was hair everywhere, across his belly and chest, on top of his shoulders and down his arms. He had a thick full beard with a touch of silver, trimmed neatly to about an inch long. He picked up the mug in his massive hands, took a sip, and set it back down. “Come on boys,” Ethan said, his voice deeper, with a bit of a western twang, “Hurry up and gather around Daddy’s boots, we have a lot to cover today, and you don’t want to waste Daddy’s time.”

The fratboys gathered around, skipping the chairs and the couches and instead sitting on the floor around Daddy, where boys were supposed to be, looking up at him. The more they stared, the less out of sorts he seemed to be, and Ethan smiled. When he’d woken up this morning, he’d felt like he’d needed a bit of a makeover, and the amulet had helped give him the body of his fantasies. Now it was time for his boys to help make a few more come true. He looked down at their anxious faces, none of them knowing what to expect, and his cock got a little harder, leaking a little bit of precum onto his chaps.

“Now, as your new Frat Daddy, my first impression of you boys here is that you lack discipline. For far too long, you’ve had Daddies who let you do whatever you like, who don’t best know how to help young men like yourselves grow up and mature into proper PBA men. Well all of that is going to change starting now. You might find me to be a taskmaster. You will consider my methods too harsh, at first. But these are the rules my frat daddy had for me when I was a PBA boy, and so they will be the rules you must abide by as well.”

He allowed a pause, but none of the boys spoke up. A few looked confused, their heads trying to catch up to reality as best they could. The amulet glinted in the sunlight–it would sort things out in any case.

“First things first, will be the establishment of a proper uniform for all of you boys, while you are under my care. While in the house, the only thing you will be permitted to wear are the items I am about to show you now. Outside the house, when you attend classes, you will be allowed to wear civilian clothes over it, but you may not remove the uniform unless given explicit permission, is that clear?”

Silence again.

“When I ask a question boys, the proper response is ‘Yes Daddy,’ is it not? Or do all of you lack even that basic understanding of your role here?”

“Yes Daddy,” the fratboys said, but it was a mutter. Displeased, Ethan stood up from the chair, rising to his full height of six foot five, grabbed one of the boys in front by the wrist, and dragged him forward so he was on his belly, and then Ethan straddled his back, pinning the boy to the ground, head towards the fireplace, with his ass before the rest of the young men. Ethan picked him because he hadn’t said anything either time, and he groped the young man’s tight ass in his rough hands. He brought one hand down, hard, on the young man’s ass, and made him holler.

“All of you will need to learn quickly that I do not tolerate lax discipline among my boys,” Ethan said, and brought down a hand on the other cheek, bringing out another yelp of pain. “You will not question me, and you will obey my commands with enthusiasm. You are members of this fraternity, this brotherhood,” he said, and smacked the ass before him again, hearing the young man sob slightly, “because you all wish to become proper PBA men. But I know full well that the only way to become a man is to be a boy first. Obedient, eager, and submissive.” Another smack, and the young man was shuddering now. “Do you all understand?”

A resounding cry of “Yes, Daddy” came from the fratboys, along with one whimpered cry behind him, and Ethan got off the boy’s back, rolled him over, and pulled him into his arms. The sudden embrace surprised the boy, and he tried to flinch away for a moment, but Daddy’s arms were too tight, and after a moment, he relented, and pressed his face into Daddy’s chest. “I will be hard on you. You will resent me at times. I do these things because I believe you boys are capable of withstanding them, and growing stronger. Some of you will not rise to the challenge I give you. Some of you will break, and will be expelled. But trust me when I say, that if you embrace me, my rules, my dominance, my order, you will understand in time that it was all worth it. 

The young man in Daddy’s arms, named Jamie, was caught between too many different feelings in that moment, and much to his surprise, began to cry, though he didn’t quite know why. The other boys looked uncomfortable, but Daddy stroked his head, held him close, his musk washing over him. “Daddy has you boy, you did well, thank you for serving me,” Ethan said, only loud enough for Jamie to hear, and much to his continued confusion, Jamie felt his cock throb. When he’d regained most of his composure after a minute or two, Ethan stood up and returned to his chair, but kept Jamie with him, sitting on the ground between his legs, both hands on his shoulders, squeezing him gently, reminding him of his power, and also of his care.

“First, on matters of personal grooming,” Daddy said, “All boys will have their heads shaven each day, when you wake up. You will rise at six each morning, gather in the communal bathroom, and shave one another’s heads clean. No one is permitted to shave their facial hair without my explicit approval, and the same goes for all other hair on your bodies. Shaving your heads is a sign of discipline, and your status–growing your hair shows that you desire to become men, true proper, PBA men. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, after you shave, you will be permitted your weekly, communal shower, and you all must soap and wash one another, never yourselves. Your soap will be unscented, and deodorant and any other scented product is forbidden. If you want to become men, you will have to smell like one soon enough.” He stood up from his chair, finished his coffee, and picked up his cigar. “Come on then, we might as well take care of that much. Then we will discuss the house uniform in more detail.

The boys discovered that all of the separate bathrooms in the house had disappeared, and one massive open bathroom had replaced them. Along one wall were several sinks and mirrors, along the other were toilets with no partitions. The third wall had a line of shower heads and soap dispensers between them. Daddy told the boys to pair up, take a stool from where they were stacked in a corner, collect a set of shaving gear, and begin–scissors first, if the hair was long, and then a razor–no electric equipment. Any boy who cut another would receive a spank from Daddy, for disrespecting their brother’s trust.

One boy, however, held back. Carter had been growing his hair out since he was little, and it was stunning–thick golden blond waves falling down to the middle of his back, which he usually had pulled up into a bun or kept in a ponytail. He was eyeing the scissors as someone would eye a noose, and Ethan went over to him, pulled him close, and guided him to a stool, telling him he would take care of him personally.

Carter sat on the stool, shaking a bit, obviously trying not to cry, while Daddy got out the scissors and ran his hands through his long hair, and at last, he begged, “Please Daddy, please don’t cut it, I’ve worked so long on it, please, anything else but not this…”

“Boy, that’s why I have to cut it,” Ethan said in his ear, “This hair is your pride, and no boy can become a man without being humbled. This is a gift for me. Offer this to me. I will not cut it until you ask it of me, because I have to know that you want what I can give you more than you want your precious hair.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us!”

“Because you need it. Because all of you need it, even if you don’t realize it yet. You think this is enough,” Ethan said, wrapping one hand in Carter’s hair and pulling it tight, “But what happens when you lose it? You think this hair makes you a man. You think this hair makes you who you are, but look in the mirror, go on, look,” Ethan said, and turned him towards a mirror, and Carter gasped.

It was…him in the mirror, but…older. Probably in his fifties, but what Carter couldn’t look away from was his head. His hair was gone–no, not gone, but the ensuing thirty years had not been kind. He only had a ring of hair left, brittle and greying and thin, but still long–but he could see in his older eyes how empty he was. How hard he had fought to keep that hair, where he’d stored so much of himself for so long, and now that it was gone, what was left? He wasn’t looking at a man, he was looking at a shell.

“Keep your hair if you so desire. Leave. I can expel you, but know that this is what waits for you if you do so, if you turn your back on your brothers now. If you turn your back on me.”

“If…If you cut it, what do I look like then?”

“I do not know–that is up to you, boy, and the work you do here for me.”

Carter ground his teeth for a moment, before whispering, “Cut it.”

“What was that boy?”

Carter realized that the entire bathroom had gone silent, and everyone was staring at him. “I said cut it, Daddy. Cut it off.”

“Thank you boy,” Ethan said, gathered his hair up in a fist, took the scissors and sheered it off. Carter let out a sob despite trying to remain strong, and then went quiet as Daddy cut away what remained, lathered his scalp, and shaved him smooth. Carter looked at himself in the mirror again, and didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. That…older version, he had known that was him somehow, even with all those years between them. But this new head, hairless and pale, he didn’t know who this was at all, and that terrified him more. But it was done. Daddy administered the required spankings for the boy’s whose blades had nicked one another, and after a shower observed by Daddy, the boys dried off and went upstairs, where their two room dorm rooms had been converted into one communal living area. The boys personal effects were gathered either in a small chest between the bunks or at the floor of the bed, or at the desks lining the other side of the room. On each bed was a small pile of gear.

Ethan led Carter over to his bunk, and used him to demonstrate the uniform. First, a bulldog leather harness on their chest, second, a leather jockstrap, and lastly, a buttplug. The plug, Daddy said, was especially important. Any boy found without a plug in their hole at any time would be subjected to substantial punishment. The plugs he’d provided them to start with were small–he saw the boys eyes go a bit wide when he said that. Apparently, they didn’t have the same understanding of ‘small’ that he did. Ethan helped the boys into their new uniforms, often having to work the plug in himself, since they were a bit too shy. Much to his surprise, one of the only boys to do everything himself was Jamie, the boy he had spanked downstairs. Without so much as a whisper of disobedience, he put on the harness as Daddy had demonstrated, sat down, and worked the plug into his hole with a grimace, but succeeded with less tears than others. Daddy made sure to put a hand on his shoulder, reach down and give his cock a little grope through the jock, showing him that he was pleased. When all the boys were dressed, they lined up for the final piece of their uniform–their collar. One by one, they kneeled down before Daddy as he went down the line, put the leather collar around their neck and padlocked them closed, and had each boy kiss the head of his cock and thank him for accepting them into the PBA brotherhood. He had them all stand again, and he looked down the line, head’s shaven, strapped into their new leather gear, all of their faces coated with a layer of fine scruff, and Ethan had to resist the urge to order them all to bend over so he could fuck them on a line. Later though.

Daddy brought the boys back downstairs and into the kitchen–where they found that most of the cooking equipment was gone, with a sizable machine against the wall. “From now on, you boys will be kept on a strict diet–a minimum of 5000 calories a day. This machine will dispense meals for you, and also keep track of your consumption, so I can monitor your progress. You are, of course, welcome to consume more if you so choose.”

The boys murmured a bit, and one of them spoke up, “Daddy…that’s…a lot.”

“Do you boys want to grow into men or not?”

“But what if we get fat?”

“Luckily, you have access to a newly installed house gym in the basement. The food here is more than willing to convert to fat or muscle. Whichever you would prefer is up to you and your discipline.”

No one was sure how to reply to that, and were a bit scared of upsetting Daddy, and so they stayed quiet. “In addition to your new diet, all of you will be expected to smoke at least two cigars a day,” Daddy said, leading the boys to the sizable humidor that had been installed near the kitchen. “Why don’t we get started, since I know some of you have never smoked one before. Take a cigar boys.”

Ethan walked the boys through the process of lighting a cigar. He used his lighter–a privilege, he emphasized. The boys used long cigar matches, cutting the end, turning the cigar for an even light, several of them taking in too much and coughing. 

“That’s good boys, nothing will get you going and feeling horny like smoking a cigar,” he said, feeling the amulet heat up slightly against his hairy chest. Sure enough, some of the boys reached down and started groping their cocks, only for Daddy to walk over and slap their hands away. “No masturbation! Men don’t need to masturbate–men need to fuck. If you want to nut, you’re going to have to use a hole. One of your brothers’ holes.”

The boys looked around at one another nervously.

You can, if you so choose, offer your hole to a brother willingly. But, any boy who subdues and forcefully removes the plug of another brother gains the right to that hole then and there, regardless of who it is–you will submit, and submit gladly. 

It didn’t take long for the first gasp to come up from the crowd of boys. They all turned, and saw that Jamie had reached out and tugged Tyler’s plug out with a pop, making him double over in pain from the sudden removal. Jamie, who had been hard and horny since receiving his public spanking from Daddy earlier, bent him over the back of a couch in the living room, lined up his cock, and drove inside, gently, but eager. Half the boys watched in shock, while the others all backed up against various walls and looked at each other suspiciously, their own bulges pushing out as they continued smoking.

“It’s up to you all, how you will negotiate this. I know many of you consider yourselves straight, though I have my doubts. One thing you are all, for certain, is brothers, and in my years as a frat daddy, one thing I can say with certainty is that you will only get through this together. You will need to learn to trust and appreciate and service one another as you service me.

Against the wall, two boys, Jameson and another, looked at each other, reached down, and pulled the plugs free from each other’s holes. Jameson was still loose from getting fucked by Daddy the night before, and part of him…missed it. He turned around against the wall, cigar gripped in his teeth, and allowed his brother to plunge into his hole and start rutting. Other groups of boys were wrestling each other to the ground, to discover who would come out on top. Daddy watched it all unfold before his eyes, his own cock growing to its substantial nine inch length, and growled in approval. A boy named Steve pinned Carter to the ground, pulled his plug free, and replaced it with his own cock in a moment, and Daddy stomped over, gripped the plug in Steve’s hole, tugged it free, and pressed his own cock to the boy’s hole. Steve tried to squirm away, but Daddy gripped him, shoving his own cock deep into the boy’s guts, and driving his own cock deeper into Carter below them, smashed beneath them both. Daddy provided all the momentum. With each drive into Steven’s hole, Steven would find himself fucking Carter, who would let out another groan of pain or pleasure, or something between the two. Steve came first, but Daddy didn’t relent. Steve ended up unloading a second time with Daddy holding him close, the heat of his cigar next to his ear, Daddy growling sweet little nothings into his ear before spilling his own load into the boy’s guts. He pulled free, and shoved the plug back in before any of Daddy’s seed could spill back out. He pulled Steve and Carter close to him on either side, sitting on the floor, sharing smoky kisses and paying extra attention to Carter’s smooth head, feeling the boy shudder each time Daddy rubbed his hand over his scalp. 

Yeah, Ethan was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself, he was going to turn the fratboys into real men–the men he wanted them to be, and he was going to love every moment of it.


Here’s the next survey! Again, two questions are available for everyone, while two are reserved for patrons only. If you’re a patron, you can find that bonus poll over here! Otherwise, answer the questions below, and we’ll see where the story takes us next. As before, click and drag the answers to rank them from top to bottom.

Caption: Coach’s Cocksucker

Trey was the high school hot shot, and he knew it. A senior, star of the football and wrestling team, he was cocky, sexy, and also known to be quite the fag basher around school. If he so much as caught a whiff that someone might be a cocksucker, as he preferred to call them, he would hunt them down in the halls and beat the queer out of them, just to be safe. I was one of those he hunted down a couple of times, so it isn’t surprising that when I saw what was going on in the locker room that afternoon, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

I’d forgotten something in my gym locker, so I stopped by after school to retrieve it, when I saw coach Stevens and Trey over by the showers, and both of them were totally naked.

“That’s right, cocksucker, everytime I call you that, the deeper into trance you fall.”

Trey nodded.

“Get down on your knees.”

Trey did as he was ordered, and then he sucked the coach off, eyes closed, totally oblivious to what he was doing. The coach kept talking to him, telling him how much he was enjoying this, that he secretly loved sucking cocks, but he couldn’t even be honest with himself about his desires. I realized that coach had, somehow, hypnotized the school hotshot, and was turning him…gay.

The coach finished, had Trey drink down his cum, and then started waking him up–and that’s how I learned what the code phrase was. When Trey heard the words “Go to sleep cocksucker,” he would fall into trance again, while “Wake up cocksucker” would bring him back out. I left the locker room before either of them could see me, my heart pounding…but I waited down the hall anyway. Would it really work?

I knew it would either work, or I’d get my face beat in, but I risked it. As Trey passed me in the hall, I said, “Go to sleep cocksucker,” and he immediately went into a trance–and I dragged him into the nearby bathroom, and fucked his ass for fun. Trey didn’t know it, but he was about to become the personal cocksucker of every guy he’d ever picked on at school, and I had a feeling that by the time he graduated, he’d love every second of it.

Patreon Bonus: Two Gear Sketches

I had two gear related suggestions from Patrons this month, which I’ve turned into a couple of sketches.

In the first, a strange science experiment gone awry has caused a young man’s skin to start tearing apart revealing something–or someone–else underneath. Skintight gear seems to keep the monster within at bay, but for how long?

In the second, a strange chain email offers to make a young man the perfect football jock. It turns out the email had a more…permanent idea in mind, as the man finds his very flesh being corrupted and twisted into football gear he’ll never be able to take off again.

If you’re a $5 patron or more, you already have access! If you’d like to see these, and other sketches, stories, and stuff I’ve posted to Patreon, there’s never a better time to support me! You can find out more information here.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 7)

“Fuck it, I wish I was the big man on campus,” Timothy said. Is that what he’d wanted to say? He couldn’t quite recall, exactly, what he’d meant to come out of his mouth, but that seemed…right, mostly.

“Ah yes, that can certainly be arranged, Master,” the genie said, snapped his fingers, and Timothy felt something happening to his body. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it also didn’t feel comfortable. It was his feet, at first–they were growing in his shoes, and it was getting uncomfortable in there, and then it really did start to hurt. He tried to undo the laces in time, but in a few moments, his feet ripped out through the sneakers entirely, and Timothy found himself face to face with his new size twenty feet, the tops covered in hair, and he just, gaped at them.

The sensation was rising higher, his legs beginning to throb and expand. Again, Timothy tried his very best to get out of his clothes, but he was growing too fast. He tore his way out of his jeans, his thighs now not only thicker, but longer as well, as he grew taller, in addition to larger in general. 

“Hold…hold on, could you slow this down or something?” Timothy said, trying to get out of his shirt, but it was too tight already to come off, and in frustration, he tore in down the front as his chest expanded into two meaty pecs, the genie just holding his usual cocky smile. “I said I wanted to be the big man on campus, but I didn’t really mean it literally!” 

“Oh I know Master, don’t worry, the physical changes are only part of the wish,” the genie said, and that didn’t exactly fill Timothy with confidence either. Thankfully, the changes were beginning to slow down somewhat, Timothy tearing off the rags of the clothes he’d been wearing moments before as he looked down at his new body. He was massive, easily six and a half feet tall, weighing in at over 300 pounds. Much of it was muscle, but he was…thick in other areas too, especially his gut, which was filling in last, along with plenty of body hair all over his chest, arms, and crotch. He looked over his gut and his eyes went wide–he was certainly the big man where it counted now! He gave his new, eleven inch cock a few strokes, and it hardened almost immediately, filling out to almost a foot long, thicker than a beer can–whoever he was with was going to have a hard time taking this monster, that was for sure.

“Look, this…this is too much, I don’t want to be a freak!” He turned to look at the genie, only to be captivated by the genie’s shimmering eyes, as the rest of the wish took hold of him. After all, a body like this would be wasted on a RA position–this was the body of a jock! Timothy’s mind began to drain, his studious nature replaced with a more athletic focus, his diligence replaced with a smug masculinity as well. The genie snapped his fingers again, and they weren’t standing in Timothy’s RA dorm room anymore–they were standing in Tim’s room at the nearby fraternity instead. Tim blinked a couple of times, looked around his room and grinned. “Fuck genie, this is fuckin’ crazy man! I’m a fuckin’ jock!”

He turned towards the mirror and gave a flex, admiring his new look, and already in love with it. “Fuckin’ amazing…” he said, picked up his still burning cigar, and took a long drag off of it, still working his cock. “Man, I wish my bros were big men like me! We’d be fuckin’ unstoppable on the field, man.”

The genie was already hard at work, warping Tim’s idle wish that he hadn’t really thought too hard about making. Still, the genie thought that Tim was in good shape, but he needed to start having some fun, or the genie was going to get a bit bored.


Sorry for the delay on this next chunk! Here’s your poll for the next wish. Patrons can find their bonus poll over here.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 2)

“I wish I was a middle aged ex-jock,” Adam said with confidence, only realizing, after it was out of his mouth, that those weren’t quite the words he’d been planning on saying. “Wait, I…that’s not what I…I swear I didn’t mean–”

But before he could try and correct himself, he felt a strange force wash over him, as the genie’s eyes grew rather intense, flashing through so many colors and shades he couldn’t barely understand what he was seeing, the mist picking up that same brilliance all around him, as the wish began to take form.

Adam began to grow. He was a rather small fellow to begin with, around five foot nine inches, and around 140 pounds soaking wet. He felt a heat radiating out from his chest and abdomen, shocks and waves of heat shooting down his arms and legs, and he had to cling to one of the bookshelves in the dorm room to try and keep balance. He picked up around six inches, growing to six foot three–even taller than Eli, his roommate was, and his muscles were growing as well, his legs growing massive cords of muscle from calf to thigh, pecs inflating across his chest, his arms and shoulders bulging out as well…but while the muscle was appreciated, some of the other physical changes were less so.

The gut was one thing. Adam had never had much fat on him, but even as muscle packed on everywhere else, his abdomen inflated into a rock hard muscle gut, large enough that when he tried to stand up straight, he found it difficult to balance with leaning back somewhat. As the growth slowed down, he felt something between a shudder, shiver, and goosebumps spread across his arms, legs, chest and back, and hair began to grow…everywhere. Brown at first, the same color as his hair, but then there was some grey sprinkled through the hairs, and then, there was almost an even amount all over his body in a thick coating. He found his way to the mirror in the room, and saw that his face was no longer the youthful one he recalled. His hair was cut short, but obviously receding past the crown of his head, a short, greying beard spreading around his face as well. He looked to be in his forties at least, and he rubbed his face, rubbed the rest of his body, certain this had to be a hallucination.

“Look, I…I didn’t fucking want this, this wasn’t the wish I thought I was saying!” Adam said, as he turned to the genie, speaking in a much deeper voice now, with a certain, gravelly tone to it.

“Do not be ashamed Master, I know that many…gay men–that is what they call you now, isn’t it? Enjoy the idea of being…a daddy? A bear? I’m not sure what to call them, really. You are rather handsome, are you not?”

Adam turned back to the mirror, and the genie wasn’t wrong, of course, but still, he…what had he wanted to say? Everytime he tried to think about it, that same string of words was all that would come to him, but he knew…knew what, exactly? Had the genie tricked him somehow? But they why couldn’t he recall how it must have happened? Maybe he…he was mistaken.

“It is a shame about that shoulder though, isn’t it?” the genie said, eyes flashing and shifting in a more subtle manner now. 

Adam saw a number of scars appear on his right shoulder, where he’d had it rebuilt in his senior year of college, effectively ending his budding football career in the process. Wait–that hadn’t happened, had it? “Don’t…don’t fuck with my memories, I don’t want to forget who I was!”

“How could you forget! You were a star, weren’t you? But all good things must end, as they say, and that was years ago now. Your life has not been bad, has it?”

He was twisting things. The mist was rising up around him, obscuring everything, choking him even, making his head spin. He tried to cling to who he’d been, but that small, tiny man seemed so far away now. He’d been…fuck, he’d been scouted by so many national teams, and overnight, it had all evaporated, and now…now he was here. The mist fell away, and Adam was no longer in a dorm room, but in his small, one bedroom apartment–looking at himself in the dirty bathroom mirror he hadn’t cleaned in, well, years probably. It was his bachelor pad. The genie was right, of course, it wasn’t a bad life. He made decent money working in construction, after his shoulder had healed up. He worked out a lot of course–he couldn’t imagine a life without going to the gym five days a week. Boys were always interested in hooking up with him, now that he was a proper daddy, and a few even loved calling him coach, which was always a fun scene.

The genie’s eyes returned to their normal, now that Adam’s new identity was well in place. He would not remember being that man he’d been before–unless the genie deemed it, of course. He would recall making a wish, but not the details of it–and it would seem…unimportant. Adam left the bathroom and went into the messy living room, smelling himself on the air, and he was…a bit disappointed. The place was a mess, really, and while he knew he could fix that with the genie–hell, he could go back and make his injury never happen! He…didn’t really want to be that pro athlete now. But there was one thing about that life he resented that he’d never gotten–the money.

“Alright genie, here’s my wish. I wish I was fucking rich!”

Or at least, that’s what he tried to say. The genie chuckled to himself, tinkered with time, with Adam’s words, and what came out instead was…


Here’s the next poll! As usual, you can pick up to two options below. Here’s the bonus poll for patrons as well.

Interactive: Three Words Difference (Part 1)

I can’t take credit for the basic idea of this one, it’s a story frame that floats around fairly regularly, but for the life of me I can’t remember who wrote it originally. If you recall the proper credit for the concept, send me a note, and I’ll update it.


Adam climbed up the stairs after a long day of classes, and was mostly thankful it was Monday evening, which meant that his roommate, Eli, would be at practice for the rest of the evening, and Adam could have the room to himself. It wasn’t that Eli was a bad person, or anything–it was just that the two of them had nothing in common, beyond the fact they were freshmen. Adam was a nerd in the engineering program, while Eli was here to, well, play football, and study a few things along the way. It wasn’t like the guy was dumb either–and he was really driven when it came to football–but Adam just didn’t understand it. Things were a bit awkward too, because Adam was gay, and Eli was straight as an arrow. He was being cool about it, but Adam could tell that he was a bit, well, suspicious of Adam living with him. It pissed Adam off a bit, mostly because Eli wasn’t even his type! He had a soft sport for chubby guys, really, and Eli was, well, ripped, and had the ego to match.

He pushed open the door to his dorm room, dropped his bag on the bed, and then set the package that had been waiting for him at the mailroom on his desk. He’d been expecting a care package from his mom for a few days, but this didn’t seem to be it–or at least, it didn’t seem big enough to hold everything she’d promised would be in there. He unwrapped it, and sure enough, it wasn’t–the only thing that was inside, was a small glass bottle. He held it up to the light, trying to see what was inside of it, but the glass had been smoked, making it hard to tell what might be in there, if anything. It was stoppered with a simple cork, and he searched for a letter or anything that might tell him more, but there wasn’t much to go on. It didn’t feel heavy, like there was liquid in there, but why would someone send him an empty bottle? He worked at the old cork for a couple of minutes, and eventually managed to pop it off, and as soon as he did, the room was flooded with a strange blue, green, and purple hued mist.

He rushed to open a window, but the mist didn’t move with the air–instead, it seemed to coalesce near the bottle, until a form appeared–the upper body of a strong fellow, his dark skin picking up the same blue, green and purple tones of the mist. His smile was broad, teeth white, eyes full of mirth and mystery, as he addressed the rather terrified Adam.

“Fear not my young master! I am the genie of the bottle–I have been given to you, because you are a unique soul in need of my services. For the next 24 hours, I am yours–you may have as many wishes as you desire from me while I am in your service.”

Adam was certain he must be hallucinating, but the genie assured him he was not, and in order to satisfy his demands, granted a few minor wishes for him, enough to gain the young man’s trust. This was often necessary, the genie had found–the mortals had heard tales of his kind which cast them as great tricksters. 

The genie was a trickster, of course, just not in the way that Adam was expecting.

The genie would grant his wishes, and the spirit of them–however, the genie had the power to alter three words in his master’s wishes. The master would generally believe that they had wanted to ask for the new wish, and wouldn’t realize what had happened. The genie knew it was so he could keep things from getting too out of hand, but over the centuries, the genie had found that the loophole was more than enough to allow him to toy with his Masters–and the genie was a rather perverse fellow himself. 

Satisfied with his tests, Adam found himself wondering what to wish–what he would do differently. He found himself thinking about Eli all of a sudden, and wondered…what his own life would be like, he was a jock like him. “I can always change myself back, right? If I do something dumb?”

“Of course Master–for the next 24 hours, you can live all of your fantasies.”

“And it doesn’t matter if it’s a bit vague?”

The genie shook his head, “I can sense what you desire Master–if I get something wrong, it is easily fixed.”

“Alright. Then for my first wish…I wish I was a jock.”

The genie smiled, and Adam felt something strange happen as he spoke, or as he tried to speak. It was like the words were caught between his mind and his mouth, and as they came out, they were…twisting into something different, something he hadn’t intended to say, had he? The genie just smiled away, tinkering with his Master’s wish, which was now…


Use the poll below to select what wish the genie twists Adam’s words into! You can make up to two selections. The bonus patron poll is over here as well.

[Caption] A Present for Coach

Fuck, I can…smell myself…I never knew I smelled so fucking good.

I didn’t really believe it, when coach told me what was going to happen, that I was really going to shoot my essence into this fucking jock, turn myself into a weak old, impotent man for him…but I’m so happy I did. I’d do anything for coach, ever since…ever since he cast that first spell on me from that book, told me I was going to be his obedient slave for the rest of my life, and it’s true. Not only can I not disobey him…I don’t even want to. Obeying him brings me the greatest pleasure, and now…now I can give him even more, all of my youth, all of my strength. Sure, I…I’m old now, and I can barely get a hard on–though smelling myself is doing a damn good job–but I didn’t deserve it.

He’s the one who deserves to be young, and strong, and I just hope after he puts it on and absorbs me that I’ll still be able to serve him. He…he said that I’ll just be a worthless old faggot after this, but I can still suck cock, and he can fuck me, and…and even if he doesn’t want me, I suppose that’s alright. At least I could give him this, all of myself, as a final token of my service to him.

Maybe…he’ll fuck me, after he absorbs me. Maybe he’ll bend my old ass over, and fuck me with his young cock, shoot a load of cum into me, fuck! I hope he does, I hope he gives me that much at least. I’d better get this to him right away–I can’t want to see my master in his true prime!

New You Resolutions (Part 7)

Hugh didn’t hear the garage door open, on the sound of his father entering the house. He couldn’t hear much of anything through the headset he had on, while he was playing his video games, shouting into the microphone on occasion, but otherwise utterly absorbed in the TV screen, at least until the basement door slammed open, and his dad stomped down the stairs, as had been their habit ever since Hugh had graduated the year before, and decided to take what he was calling a gap year–but which his dad was beginning to suspect was more of a slacker year than anything else.

Carl wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Sure, Hugh had never been the brightest fellow at school, not showing much interest in anything other than football–which his father happened to coach at the school. Sure, Carl might have pulled a couple of strings with some of the administrators to make sure Carl graduated on time, but it wasn’t like every other parent at the school wasn’t advocating for their kids. When a football scholarship failed to materialize, Carl told his dad he just needed a break–a year to try and sort out what he wanted to do, and that had seemed reasonable. Carl had assumed that would mean Hugh getting a job, or studying, or…well, anything other than this.

Instead, ever since summer, all Hugh had done, really, was play video games down in his room in the basement. Carl had started pestering his son more directly, and more than once now they had gotten into shouting matches with one another, Carl demanding that Hugh do something with himself, while Hugh shouted back that he just needed some time, and some space. Maybe he wasn’t being fair. Maybe he’d helped him too much. Carl thought about trying to engage him again, but just shook his head. He was tired from his second job–and just wanted to relax for a while himself. He tossed the letter that had arrived for his son on the table in front of him, saw Hugh’s eye flick over to it, and then Carl went back upstairs, got a beer out of the fridge, and sat down on the couch to watch the news.

Hugh didn’t really have much interest in the letter, and so he kept playing until he got hungry, and then took a break. The six month streak of lounging and slacking had done a number of Hugh’s physique, and while he’d always been thick, the football had at least kept him from going from thick to fat–but he was decidedly in ex-jock territory now. His hygiene had also slipped considerably, he hadn’t gotten his hair cut in months, and had stopped shaving regularly too, and was no sporting a considerable beard–something else his dad nagged him about all the time.

Still, getting a snack or a meal would require getting past his dad upstairs…and Hugh just didn’t have the energy for another fight with him. His dad didn’t understand how he felt, how…Hugh just didn’t know what in the world to do with himself. High school was easy, and easier still than it could have been, because he had his dad there to help get him through it. He just felt…stupid, sometimes, and the only person he felt like he could count on, even more than himself, was his dad, but he was even fucking that up too. Everything just felt so…anxious all the sudden–it was easier to just play video games. Even if you lost, at least you didn’t lose anything for real, right? Wanting to put things off a bit more, before braving his father, he grabbed the envelope Carl had tossed on the table, opened it, and read the note inside.

Congratulations! You have been nominated by someone you know for our exclusive resolution program, and we have selected you from many excellent candidates as someone who could benefit from our unique service. Enclosed, you will find your tailored list of New Year’s resolutions for the year 2019.

Now, we know what you are thinking, that you don’t need someone else, especially some strange organization, to make resolutions for you! That’s where you are wrong. You see, people who are nominated for our program are those in the most dire need of change, but who often are incapable of changing themselves, often through supreme self-delusion. You’ll be glad to know, then, that the included resolutions are compulsory, and non-negotiable. Come 2020. You’ll be amazed at what a little change can do for you!

Included with your 2019 resolutions, of course, is a mandatory invitation to our 2020 New Year’s Eve party. We know that it’s a year away (and goodness, do you have an exciting year ahead of you!) but we just want to make sure you mark your calendars now. Not that you have much of a choice in any case!

Enjoy the new year, and enjoy the new you!

New You Enterprises

Hugh looked at the list inside, and then turned on a light, so he could read better, certain it must have been a mistake. It didn’t make any sense, what he was reading, after all, and more confused than ever, he felt something odd…stir in him, a small awareness that his slacker year was going to be very different from this moment forward.


Alright, here’s the last set of resolutions for this story! I’m still not sure how the final year end party is going to work out yet, and whether it will be interactive or not, but at the very least we’ll get to see how our four characters ended up after a year under their new resolutions. Don’t forget! If you’re  a patron, you get access to the bonus poll, that counts for double! You can find it here, and the public poll is embedded below.


ChatChange – Jock Slave (Flash Commission)

Thank you for using ChatRandom! You’re now being paired with a new chatter…..Partner found, welcome DirtyTubbs56!

DirtyTubbs56: Hey bud, how’s it hangin?

CollegeJock97: Fuck, put a fucking shirt on, would you? No one wants to see that.

DirtyTubbs056: Heh, how about this? Wanna see my big ol’ cock boy?

CollegeJock97: What the fuck, why won’t it let me close the window?

DirtyTubbs56: Sounds like someone didn’t pay for the premium membership. Guess you’re stuck with me for a little bit. Come on, whip out yer cock too–helps the time pass by real easy.

CollegeJock97: I’m not showing your my cock you fat, dirty faggot.

DirtyTubbs56: You know, I wasn’t too different from you when I was younger. You should watch what you say boy.

[Premium user DirtyTubbs56 has activated ChatChange]

CollegeJock97: What the fuck is chatchange?

DirtyTubbs56: You’ll see boy, now hold on a second.

[Change applied]

GrungeJock97: Oww! How the fuck–it fucking shocked me!

GrungeJock97: And why…what the fuck happened to my screenname? B?

DirtyTubbs56: Well I gotta say, it looks accurate–how old is that jock you have on boy?

GrungeJock97: Fuck, this…this thing? I’ve been wearing it all year so far

GrungeJock97: Why did I write that? I mean I have but I wasn’t wearing it, and my room, fuck it reeks so fucking good in here all of a sudden, makes me so damn horny.

DirtyTubbs56: Well then whip it out boy, let’s see what you got.

GrungeJock97: Fuck, you fucking did this to me, what the fuck did you do? Change me back, you fucking sicko.

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck boy, been wearing these whities of mine for months–bet you’d love to give them a sniff, wouldn’t you? Look at the color on ‘em–ain’t they pretty. Hold on, gotta get up here for a sec, show ya the shit streak down the back.

DirtyTubbs56: Eh? What did you think of those? Damn, did checking out my dirty undies just make you leak all that? Now who’s the sicko around here?

GrungeJock97: I can’t fucking help it!

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck, reminds me of when I was younger, sneaking underwear from the locker room, especially the coach’s, if I could manage. You like older guys, don’t you boy? Fat old pigs like me?

GrungeJock97: Fuck no, you…no, I won’t do this, I fucking won’t.

DirtyTubbs56: Well it wasn’t really a question anyway, no worries

[Change Applied]

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck, that fucking hurt! Fucking stop it! What did you fucking do this time, daddy?

Jock4DirtyOldMen:Why the fuck did I type that? You’re fucking with my head, aren’t you daddy?

DirtyTubbs56: Just made you a little more appreciative is all. You should be thankful, shouldn’t you? That I’m turning you into a whore for dirty old men like me? Come on, tell me what you’d do to me, if I was in that dirty room of yours.

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck, I don’t wanna say daddy, don’t make me do this, please sir.

DirtyTubbs56: Tell me boy, that’s an order.

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck–fuck, I’d…I’d sniff your pits, and clean your whole stinking body sir. Suck your cock, and eat out your ass if you wanted, I’d…fuck, feeling you on top of me, fucking my dirty hole makes me so hard just thinking about it

DirtyTubbs56: How about my feet boy?

Jock4DirtyOldMen: I fucking love dirty feet sir, I’d lick them clean–the…the stink of ‘em makes me cum harder than anything.

DirtyTubbs56: That’s a much better attitude boy–but I think we should punish you for some of your rudeness earlier, don’t you think?

Jock4DirtyOldMen: No sir, please, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want, you don’t have to change me anymore, please

DirtyTubbs56: No–see, I think you’re still a bit too proud of yourself. Your youth, your body. But living like this, well, it won’t last for long, trust me. All those hours spent alone in your room, masturbating to your own heady stench–it doesn’t leave much time for working out, does it? But you can’t stop–and the more you lose, the more you want it back.

[Change applied]

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, that…fuck, what the fuck, I think I’m going to be sick…

DirtyTubbs56: Just accept it, just let it wash over you. You’ll feel so much better soon, trust me, you don’t know it yet, but you’re going to love this. I thought the same thing, but this is so much better than you know.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: I’m, fuck, I’m old, and I’m so fucking fat! Change me back you fucker! You can’t fucking do this to me, you fucking can’t do this, I was

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, why the fuck can’t I remember? I…I remember getting in the locker room, yesterday, but I wasn’t playing, I…fuck, that’s right, I took a fucking haul, five rank jocks from the locker room. I…know the janitor, and he’ll give me fifteen minutes to raid the place if I blow him, and it’s fucking worth it every time. Can’t do it too often though, but fuck, you should fucking smell these things.

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck man, they look so filthy, I can almost smell them through the screen!

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck yeah, I watch them at practice too, usually, wearing my favorite ones, even a jersey or two, while I’m under the bleachers, jacking off. Just fucking wish I could get close to them, you know? Really show those young studs what an old pig like me has to offer.

DirtyTubbs56: I bet you’d do anything for a stud like that.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: You fucking know it! I…fuck, I know you fucking did this to me, but everything feels so fucking…far away now. And fuck if I don’t fucking love this.

DirtyTubbs56: Tell me what you want, pig–if you really want to go back, I could be persuaded if you ask really nicely–though I might need a favor in return.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, all I really want is all those fucking jocks around me, fucking me, pissing on me, using me as their fucking pig slut, fuck now that would be the fucking life!

DirtyTubbs56: Well I can arrange that too, you know.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Wait, I didn’t mean it, not really, I was just fantasizing!

DirtyTubbs56: You sounded pretty serious to me.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck you, fucking change me back, I’ll do anything you want, I’ll find you and blow you, please

DirtyTubbs56: Nah, I like your idea better.

[change applied]

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: Fuck, what’s happening, why

DirtyTubbs56: Huh, he vanished–must not be living in that room anymore.

[Find user – FilthySlavePig4Jocks]

[User found. Local internet device found–connect user to device? Y/N]

[Y]

[Connection reestablished]

DirtyTubbs56: There you are–fuck, look at you, looks like those jocks sure did a number on you.

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I…I can’t be in here, this is Master Coach’s office if anyone finds me I’ll get punished so bad

DirtyTubbs56: No worries, I won’t keep you for long, I just wanted to see what those jocks did to you–and fuck, what the hell didn’t they do. Is that the mascot?

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I’m property of the team, they tattooed me to show it. Keep me shaved all the time, lock up my cock where it belongs The team uses me whenever they need to, and…and I love it. Thank you, thank you for doing this to me, I didn’t know I needed this so badly, and I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m so happy–this was where I always belonged I just didn’t know it.

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I have to get back in my pen though, if anyone finds me they’ll put me in the box and I hate the box.

DirtyTubbs56: Alright pig–get back in your pen–and you’re welcome.

[End Connection]

[Find new User? Y/N]

[Y]

The Bro Apartments (Flash Commission)

Commissioned by @mutabear


“Yeah bro–it isn’t much, but it should do you for now, I think,” Greg said, as he showed me around the small one bedroom apartment I was looking at renting. I had just graduated from college this month, landed a tech job with a startup nearby, and the apartment was workable–at least until the app took off and we got some of that sweet venture capital coming in.

Greg for his part seemed…nice. Mid forties probably, but not really dressed like it. He reminded me of the frat bros back in college, but one who never grew out of it. Sports jersey, gym shorts, big belly from too much beer every night, hat on backwards…I mostly felt a bit sorry for him, because he seemed really nice and genuine beyond that.

“Of course,” Greg continued, “We have a gym for you to use if you want. A lot of the bros work out there–saves money on a gym membership! We’re a real tight community around here, so I’m sure you’ll fit in.”

“Well, I’ll probably be at work most of the time,” I said.

Greg nodded. “Well, you just owe me first, last, and a deposit–I don’t bother with credit checks or shit like that.”

“Really? Aren’t you worried about people flaking out?”

Greg laughed, “Eh, not really. Besides PJ gave you a good recommendation, so I’m not worried.”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my friend Paul Jeffers, who had moved in a few months earlier, and recommended I check it out. Never in my life had I ever heard Paul referred to by his initials. I signed the lease agreement for six months, gave him a check, and got to work moving in.


It was a week later when I finally managed to connect with Paul in the complex. Moving in had been easy–even the furniture. A couple neighbors of mine (just as broish as Greg was, but still nice fellows) helped me get stuff up into my room, and insisted I come over to their apartment for a beer afterward. The strangest thing…is I don’t really remember getting home that night, and when I woke up, I…was nearly naked. All I had on was this weird, ripe smelling jockstrap. I took it off of course, and meant to throw it out, but it ended up by the bed.

When I did connect with Paul, or rather, PJ as everyone in the apartment complex called him, I…well, it was a surprise to say the least, on many, many fronts. The Paul from school had been a small guy, really bright, a sharp programmer…but this was not the same Paul I had known from a year ago.

For one thing, he was taller than me. He must have grown a foot taller somehow, and when I pointed it out, he just told me it was a late growth spurt. He was more muscular, with a decent sized gut, wearing sports jerseys like everyone else in the complex besides me it seemed. He spoke different too–slower, with a whole lot more “Bro” and “Dude” than he had…but it was the same guy. I was put off, but once he’d coaxed me into drinking a few of the beers he’d brought by, we got on perfectly well…but again, I fucking blacked out, and woke up alone, in my bed…wearing that same jock from before.

I thought it had to be some prank the guys were pulling on me, but I’d also woken up horny as hell, jacked off, and blew my load into the pouch…and I left it there, and dozed back off. When I woke again, I pulled the thing off in disgust and took a shower…but still couldn’t seem to throw it away.


It was a few days after that when I got an even bigger surprise–when PJ introduced me to his boyfriend–Alec. Paul–Paul who had always been straight, if not all that successful at it, was gay! It…surprised the hell out of me, and I wasn’t too keen on hanging out with him after that, especially since the last time I’d woken up with no memory and mostly naked…but he was just so congenial, and Alec was sweet, and with some more beer, they coaxed me over to watch a game–and then another game a few nights later. And then I started going to the gym with them, and hanging out more, and…and I was having so much fun, and work was just so difficult and stressful!

I couldn’t seem to focus while I was at the office, and the capital wasn’t coming, and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to pay rent a few months down the line. So yeah, I…avoided my problems a bit. Hanging out with PJ and Alec–and some of the other bros in the complex was just so much more relaxing. It was a week later when I realized I had the jock on–at work. I had woken up in it a few days earlier, and just never taken it off! I was horrified, but didn’t have anything to change into…and by the time I got home, and had a couple of beers…I didn’t want to take it off. Greg…told me about this party he’s throwing for the whole complex here in a few days. He really wants me to come…but I’m scared. This place, these guys, they’re doing something to me, they’re making me like them, and…and I’m so happy, I don’t know what to do.


The party was a fuckin’ blast bro! Just–fuck! You had to be there to really, you know, get it.

So I showed up, and everyone from the complex was there, hangin’ around the pool, and they were all wearing these jocks, just as dirty as the one I had on. A few other guys, more “normal” ones like me, were there too…and we all started stripping down to our own jocks…and fuck, it felt so good not to have to hide anymore, or be alone!

PJ and Alec found me, got some beers in me, and before I knew it, PJ had his tongue down my throat, and fuck, I…I’d wanted him since the day I’d seen him here, but I hadn’t even realized it. Alec came back, lubed up my hole, and coached me through it, just like he’d coached me at the gym, and soon I was riding his cock, moanin’ and gruntin’, PJ sucking me off, and Greg…he was holding court, watching all a us bro’s hangin’ out and fuckin’, and happy as a fuckin’ bro whose team just won the championship.

I woke up between them in their apartment…and I knew there wasn’t any way back for me. I’m…fuckin’ huge, and hairy, and…maybe a bit stupid, but who cares? PJ ‘n Alec don’t care–when they woke up we went right back into it, fuckin’ and suckin’ and lickin’…

I quit my job. Alec says he can find me somethin’ nearby at the college working in sports administration or something, nothing too hard. I’ll be saving money in any case, ‘cause I’m movin’ in with them next week–Greg was more than happy to let me off the lease, as long as I recommend someone to take it, and I got just the friend in mind.