Chav Tf - Blog Posts
Ben hovered outside the corner shop, fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Today felt different, charged with a strange energy he couldn’t quite place.
His mate, Jake, swaggered over, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Oi, Ben, you ever tried one of these?” Jake handed him a tightly rolled blunt, its scent tingling Ben’s senses with its earthy pungency. Without thinking, Ben took it, his hand trembling slightly.
As he took a cautious puff, the world around him blurred and intensified. Heat surged through his veins, each heartbeat echoing like a drum. His skin tingled, every cell buzzing with potential.
His frame began to shift, stretching and expanding. Arms that were once skinny swelled with surprising heft, his chest broadening under the fabric of his hoodie. It clung snugly to his developing form, showcasing the transformation. Abs rippled with newfound strength, pressing tight against his joggers.
A wave of musk enveloped him, a heady mix of sweat and raw masculinity, intoxicating in its intensity. Rather than shying away, Ben inhaled deeply, savoring every note.
Beneath his waistband, he felt an exhilarating pressure. His cock and balls swelled, growing heavier and more prominent, a throbbing force that demanded his attention. Every pulse was a declaration of his new, potent vitality.
With each drag of the blunt, his thoughts shifted. Homework? Video games? Nah, that wasn’t him. His head buzzed with new urges. Partying, pulling, living large in the open air where anyone could see him. Every sensation turned him on, amplifying his raw, untamed energy.
Ben’s tongue darted out, tasting the air, an involuntary smirk curling his lips. No longer the timid boy hiding in the shadows, he was a king of the street, hot, dumb, and ready for action.
His hoodie hung open, proudly displaying his chiseled torso, the chilly breeze licking across his skin as he strutted forward. Each step sent pleasurable tingles, every sway exuding confidence and power.
"Yo, Jake, got another blunt?" he quipped, his voice a deep drawl, laden with mischief.
Not waiting for an answer, Ben leaned in closer, eyes sparking with desire and authority. Boldly, he pulled Jake in by the collar for a lingering snog, his hands exploring with a firm, commanding grip.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered with a smirk, "Let's have some fun, yeah?" His tone brooked no argument, the kingly chav ready to claim the night.
You'd found the tracksuit while looking on Vinted for new clothes, and had to have them. They were cheap too, so it just made sense to you to buy them, and the horny feeling you got just looking at the picture of them was enough to convince you.
A few days later and they arrived, and you were more than eager to try them on. As you slipped them on, you could feel your cock hardening, stiffening in the trackie pants that youd decided to go commando in. You gave your cock a quick tug, then slipped the hoodie on, caving into the urge to wear it without a shirt. The clothes smelled of sweat and cheap lynx deoderant, which youd noticed when opening them, but the scent was stronger now you wore them, invading your nostrils and overpowering all other smells in your room.
It was driving you insane, making your brain fog and lose focus, you smelled like a lad, a chav, and it was great. What you didn't realise, lost in pleasure, eyes closed and hands feeling up your body, was that you were growing. Your muscles becoming more lean, your height increases to a solid 6 feet, and a beard growing in on your face. Your bones were becoming more angular, cutting a hard jawline, and making you have a more tough, chavvy look. A tattoo was forming on the back of your right hand, and your hair was shortening into a cut more befitting of you new form. As you fondled your cock it grew, resting at a solid 7 inches with the foreskin back, uncut. Your balls felt full and heavy, and you could smell the combination of the musk, deoderant, and smell of smoke that now came from your body as well as the clothes. It was overwhelming you, making you blank and docile as it reworked your mind. New thoughts were seeping in, dumber, hornier thoughts, of how hot you were and how much you needed a cig.
Memories were seeping in too, of playing footie with your mates, or running an only fans, findomming pathetic subs and working out every so often to stay in shape. You were jerking off, waves of pleasure coursing through your being, and those waves carried new language, vocabulary, and a new name. Aaron. That's right, you were Aaron. A propa lad through and through.
Aaron came, soaking his, no your, trackies, and headed out to play footie with your mates, and get some booze on the way, probably nicking the beer like the badass you were.