bodriversblog:

BUILDING A BETTER VESSEL

When the PE teacher made you wrestle Chet Stockman for a round, it was no surprise when you got pinned by the 3-sport athlete in 20 seconds. With a smirk, Chet maintained the headlock he had on you between his boulder-like arms. Moments after he finally released you, you realized in horror that he’d managed to rub his dank pit sweat all over your face and neck. You panicked contemplating the worst consequence of Chet’s humiliating pin: fuck, you’ll have to shower now.

In your class, only the jocks are comfortable enough with nudity to take showers after PE. You’d sometimes overhear the echoes of their bro-ish banter and roughhousing as you’d quickly change for your walk home, hoping to avoid anyone seeing your flabby frame. But now, you have to take off all your clothes and follow the jocks into the locker room shower. You feel their leers as they size you up and laugh among themselves. You suspect they have something planned for you. You start to soap yourself as fast as possible.

Suddenly, you feel hands grab you and lift you off the ground. Is this it? Are you getting a beatdown? You’re lain on the floor and someone lifts up your legs. You feel strips of fabric grasping your crotch before something snaps against your waist: you’re now wearing a jockstrap. What the fuck? You look up at the jocks standing over you in a circle.

“Enjoying my cologne?” says Chet, as he leans over your body, flexing his beefy bicep while pointing underneath to the armpit that got you in this situation. You grimace in disgust.

“I marked you with my smell so the bros would know you’re in for a jocking. You don’t get to wash it off, not yet. Not until you start making this stuff on your own. Right now, you’re nothing. Your body is weak and useless, when it should be in its prime. But because Coach chose you, we’re fixing that. Once the jocking strap is done with you, your balls are gonna be brimming with jock juice, and they’ll be pumping it into your bod and your brain. After the changes, you’ll look like one of us. And smell like one of us tool: a studbeast football player.”

Your balls feel warm and heavy, and a sensation like static electricity starts to build up inside them. Your dick rises. Sweat drips off your flushing face and your heart beats faster, and with each pump, the electricity spreads to the rest of your body: down your legs to your heels and through your toes, up your belly to your chest and out to your arms, back, neck and head.

Heat and electricity consume your whole body as each muscle tenses, twitches, and flexes uncontrollably. For what seems like an eternity your head is filled with nothing but a white hot light that washes out every other thought.

A spray of cold water hits your chest. You open your eyes. You’re still laying on the slick tile floor of the locker room showers, but something about your situation there seems different. Your skin feels tighter and every single movement of your muscles–flush with blood–has a certain power behind it. You try to look down at your own body but it’s shrouded by steam. You close your eyes. After a while you start to get numb from the cold water.

“Looks like his jocking’s leveled off. He’s not making any more steam.”
“Yeah, bro, he’s ready.”

You feel someone grab your hand.
“Get up, bro,” he says.
You pull yourself up and follow him out the showers. There is nothing in your head but the sensation of water dripping off your body, and the need to follow your bro. You don’t even remember your own name.

Still naked, you follow your bro out the opposite door from where you came in, into the athletic locker room. Your bro pulls the jockstrap off you and hands you a duffel bag. With your brain so blanked out, you can’t tell that it has “TIGHT END” written on it.

“Open it, bro.”

You open the duffel bag and find a gold-colored football inside. Something about it calls out to you, and you instinctively know that it will complete you. You grab it and hear a voice tell you that Coach needs you as a vessel for his will. He needs a body for his team, to play as a tight end. Meanwhile, you have no will of your own now, and you need a purpose to serve, and the skills to fulfill that purpose. This football contains the talent, the drive, the experience and the training of many tight ends from the past. This football-playing spirit will inhabit your body and make it a part of Coach’s glory and legacy. Then, once it retires football (usually after college, but sometimes after pro ball) it will go back to the golden football and leave you blank again. But don’t worry, Coach takes good care of all his jocks, even the blanked-out ones. So do you accept the position on his team?

Yeah, bro.

Sometime after the football finishes filling your brain with your new self, the PE teacher–now your Coach–walks in on you admiring your own reflection in the locker room mirror. You can’t wait to get out and play Coach’s offense, which is pretty much the only thing you have any knowledge of now (except for how to lift and train and stuff). Coach tosses you a white pair of shorts. Before you can practice, first Coach will have to see your 40, your jumps, and all your drills. But you’re confident that you’ll clear all your tests like a beast. Coach leaves you to continue processing your new life, and you resume staring at the massive, finely-tuned jock body in the mirror.

story-boi:

“You like stroking your cock, don’t you stud?”

He groaned and fondled his balls, anxious and eager to rut. 

“Keep stroking,” I ordered, over the webcam, “Stroke for your boi.”

His mind slowly gave way, the inner animal taking control.

“You’re just my fuck-stud aren’t you?” I giggled as he groaned pitifully, “Don’t ever stop stroking, don’t ever stop fantasizing.”

Beads of sweat began to pour down his face.

“You’re my stud now.”

Source: northreed

I love the animal stories so maybe some nerds fooled into becoming horny beasts?

dougtfs:

Mm yes. They were on a retreat, studying some new plants, but the pollen had an unexpected effect. As the days went on in their remote research station they got more relaxed, lazy, forgetful. Their bodies bulked up and their skin grew hairy, ears stretching into points and tails growing from their backsides. They knew it was a problem but it just felt so good to hang out naked, braying and fucking until they forgot their own names.

Collaboration between me and my bf, @cannibal-chow

And as soon as his feet touched the beach, his feet grew to size 16. His torso suddenly got leaner and longer. His butt swelled into a firm bubble butt as his hair turned dark and shaggy. His mind filled with image of hot naked guys, and he realized he was gay now. His shirt turned into a white tank top for a few minutes before it completely vanished. His shorts crept up and got short. Too short, and tight; showing off his bulge. A fang necklace forming around his neck as he posed for the camera ready to play volleyball with his buddies. While they waited for the perfect wave.

dougtfs:

“Whoa, hey, you’re naked,” I blurted at my roommate when I walked in the door. The smell of pot hung in the air. I knew he liked to get comfortable when he smoked but he’d never gotten naked before.

He just smirked at me. “Yeah, I’m naked,” he said, then giggled. “Man, you gotta try this new stuff. I never been so relaxed.” I glanced down at the pipe of the coffee table. I didn’t usually smoke and was about to say no, but there was something sweet and pungent about the scent hanging in the air that called to me.

“What the fuck,” I thought, “it’s been a long day at work. Why not.” I picked up the pipe, lit it, and took a breath.

“Yeah dude,” he smiled, leaning back and opening his legs to show off his sexy soft dick and dad bod. The weed smelled sweet, and the pungent salty smell, I realized, was actually from him: his sweaty musky body odor. I slowly exhaled, feeling the burn of the smoke in my throat and the woozy high that immediately hit me. It tingled, a prickle that warmed my blushing face and crept down my neck, my chest, my belly, my hips and ass and cock, then flushed my legs with heat.

Suddenly my clothes felt so heavy and tight and wrong and I had to get them off, pushing down my pants and underwear and tearing off my shirt. I yanked off my shoes and stepped back, staring down naked at the pile of clothes with one sock in my hand.

My roommate laughed. “You look good, man,” he said. “We oughta get naked all the time.”

I looked up at him, and started giggling, even though I had no idea why. This weed was making me so stupid, I thought, then forgot about it immediately and looked down at the sock in my hand. I couldn’t even remember what it was for. Was this clothes? How do people wear clothes? I picked up another item from the pile, a shirt I think. I stared at it, baffled. I knew I’d been wearing it just a moment ago but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how. It was like all knowledge of wearing clothing was just … gone.

I dropped whatever it was, and looked back up at him. He was so hot, I thought. So fucking sexy. That hairy body, the untrimmed bush, the metal in his nipples and his thick strong chest. I felt woozy again, my dick getting hard. He saw that and got another fit of giggles, wiggling back and forth in the chair. “Wanna fool around?” he said.

Absently, I picked up the pipe and lighter again, lit the last bit of green weed, and took another breath. “Whoa, man, careful, that might be too much,” he laughed. I set the pipe back down as another warm tingle swept over me.

If the first dose made me dizzy and dumb, the second completely emptied my mind. For a moment I couldn’t remember who I was, where I was, what was going on. But I knew that my arms were heavy, my legs sore, my balance off. 

What was I doing up on two legs? I was confused. My heavy arms sunk to the floor, my legs bending to go down on all fours, like I belonged. Two legs are for humans. I wasn’t a human. I was a pup. Right? That’s who I was. I was pretty sure.

My master said something, and laughed, but he said it with human words so I didn’t know what he meant. I just barked, and sniffed the pile of clothes on the floor. Why did they smell like me?

Then he said something I understood – “come” – and patted his bare lap. Panting, I trotted over on all fours, and sat obediently at his feet. “Good boy,” he said, and rubbed my head. I whined and pressed my head into his hand, then barked and licked his finger. He laughed and said some more human words, then pointed to his dick. I understood what that meant, and put my paws up on his lap to take his soft cock in my mouth.

“Ahhh,” he sighed, leaning back. He smelled so good, sweaty and strong, my alpha. I felt his dick hardening between my lips, and I swirled my tongue around it. It tasted salty, manly, a single droplet of pre-come smearing on my tongue. I loved it. I wanted more. I wanted his come.

“Good boy,” he grunted, rubbing behind my ears as I sucked. Yeah. I am a good boy. His good boy.

dougtfs:

Mark and I were the only two to escape from the laboratory. We ran all night across the island, though it was slow going since we were both naked and exhausted.

When the sun came up, we both paused on a wet rocky outcropping to see if we could see the boat that brought us here with our friends. 

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“I’ll live,” he panted. “Did you see what happened to the other guys?”

I bowed my head. “Pups,” I said. “All pups. I was kept in a cage with Peter and he was the first to change. Went down on all fours after just a few hours, voice turned into growls. When they took him out, I could see all the other guys were starting to change too.”

“Why didn’t we?” Mark asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “For some reason your changes seem to have stopped at your ears.” I gestured towards his furry, pointed ears.

“What do you mean?” he said, raising a hand to touch them. “Oh, shit. They were normal last night when we escaped. We must still be – woof! We must still – aroooo!” his voice gave way to the same sounds I’d heard coming from Peter, as I backed away from him.

“Please help,” Mark said. “Please, man, please don’t – arf!” He crawled toward me on all fours, then sat up in a begging pose, his hands curled like paws and his tongue hanging out, panting.

I turned to run, but across the field in front of us, I spotted some movement. They had found us – a team of scientists, led by all of our friends, naked on all fours, sniffing after the familiar scent of their frat brothers.

Get more stories of transformation, power, and control: http://bit.ly/DBGPlus

Source: gregokulove

dougtfs:

There was something about those new genetically modified bananas at the supermarket. Wasn’t just that they tasted good, they actually made you feel high, euphoric, and so horny. You got a bunch yesterday and ate the whole thing, then had to go back for more today.

But looking in the mirror as you ate one, something seemed weird. Kinda off. Was it the smell? Or the taste? You took off your shirt to sniff your pits – oh yeah, they were real sweaty. These bananas were making your heart race and your skin damp with sweat. And the hair in your pits – was it always that thick? It seemed to stick out more than it ever had, even with your arm down, a dense mat of hair.

You peeled another banana and started eating. Your whole body was hairier than it used to be, in fact. You stared at yourself in the mirror. That’s you, right? It looks like an ape. Thick dense tufts of fur all over your body. Ears sticking out all weird and big. Big meaty hands, so clumsy and thick. You could barely hold onto the banana as you stuffed it into your mouth.

That was your last one. You fell forward onto all fours, knuckle-walking around your enclosure. It used to be your apartment. But apes don’t live in apartments. They live in zoos. And an animal handler will be along to pick you up soon, and take you to your new life with the other men dumb enough to buy experimental bananas.

Get more stories of transformation, power, and control: http://bit.ly/DBGPlus

Source: realhankmccoy

Tagging problems

So on my end all of my tags just show every post regardless of whether or not I tagged them with that tag. Not sure if that’s only on the app or even only on my end. A little nervous to contact tumblr about this since idk how they feel about tf/porn blogs. Is anyone on the other end of the screen experiencing this issue on my blog/other blogs? Or is it just something weird on my end? I wanna try to keep things organized for you guys since different people might be fans of different things, so if some of you can get back to me about this that would be great. Thanks