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Loss Of Body Control - Blog Posts

user211201

7 months ago

--- Originally posted on 2024-02-17 by breedertfs ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

Frat Boy Fantasy

Marcus was really regretting his wish. All he wanted to do was spend time with the hot guys in the Frat House down the street, but he never meant that he wanted to spend time with them as a brother of the house. He wanted to be sucking on their cocks, sniffing their hot swampy armpits, not trapped inside a meaty sweat covered body without any ability to control it. He hated the version of himself he was now, his big thick hand scratching at his ass crack and pits, sniffing his rank stench. He felt so gross and stupid, lounging around in sweat pants, laughing at the dumb misogynistic jokes, flexing when given the cue.

He kept waiting for something fun and gay to happen, for all the hot guys to start kissing, or for someone to play pop music to relax to, but the best he got was kisses on the cheek and bros slapping his cock with a callused palm, muttering “no homo, brah!” Rap music was blaring, causing him to scream inside his head, but the vessel he was inside just nodded along and tapped his big stinky foot. “This shit is tight,” he drawled, at the same time his hand pawed at his fat package.

One of the frat boys he had the biggest crush on came and sat beside him, throwing a muscled arm over his shoulder, his slick armpit hairs touching his skin. His thick cock remained deflated, up until the bro shoved his cheap scratched up phone in his face, laughing. “Fuckkk Mark, look at these mommy milkers,” he said, showing off a GIF of some big boobed porn star squeezing her fleshy tits together. Instantly, Mark as he was now affectionately called, could feel all the blood rushing to his cock, a low groan leaving his open mouth, the stank of morning breath blowing out, but his bro didn’t care. He reached his big meaty hand into his sweats, at the same time his bro was doing the same thing. “Fuck brah, let me pull us up something good,” the dude said, using his sweaty pube covered fingers to quickly bring up a porn video, lesbians scissoring to be exact.

Their slick pussies sliding against each other, their titties bouncing. Mark couldn’t help it, even if a tiny gay voice was screaming in his head, begging him to remember that he was a gay boy who wanted to be fucked by frat boys, not be one. Mark was only hyper focused on the swaying tits and squirting pussies on the phone screen, he didn’t even glance over at his bro jacking his cock because that would be gay. No one in this frat was a queer. Least of all him.

Once he busted his load to the moaning MILFs, he didn’t even clean up, he just shoved his thick cock into his sweats and stretched out, shoving his bro away as he squeezed out a hot protein fart. Everyone laughed, breathing in the hot fetid stench, loving the sense of brotherhood in the house.

Everyone except for the old Marcus, that is. But this is the prime of Mark’s frat boy breeder life.

A Better Son

Apologies for my absence! Been without power for almost a month, still working on sorting some things out - but I’m still alive! And still kinky as ever, of course.

Here’s a quick story as a treat.

Matthew was a good kid.

Good looks, good grades, good future - but he was never able to come to terms with being abandoned by his father as a baby. Not that his mother did a bad job of raising him, she was wonderful, but like most young men he craved having a father figure in his life.

Someone to play ball with, to introduce to his girlfriend that he was sure he’d marry one day, to teach him how to be a good man - not that he even knew anything about his father, only that his mother said he wasn’t missing out on much. That he left for a reason.

But still, Matthew liked to fantasize. He imagined a great, incredible guy, a guy that chose to give up on Matthew before he even had a chance. He couldn’t get around it. So maybe that’s why he made the wish, “I wish I could be the son my father wanted,” and maybe that’s why everything began to shift.

He could sense the world warping around him, everything changing in a blur, himself included. He felt a cold breeze run over his body as suddenly he was nude, felt himself tumbling through time and space, but nothing was stranger than the feeling of his body stretching and expanding. Inflating.

When he tried to scream, all he could do was moan. Each sensual purr soared higher and higher than the last, as he felt his body writhing in the air and screaming femininely, biceps pressing against a bloating chest and ass cheeks jiggling just behind him. He was terrified, but he couldn’t stop himself. He felt huge, and horny.

And then he crash landed, knees making contact with a soft king sized bed. All he had time to do was look down at himself, at the beefy tattooed body and tiny speedo he was now trapped inside, before he lost control again and began grinding against the plush blanket like a bitch in heat.

“Papi,” he was forced to moan, not recognizing the accented voice that left his mouth. He sounded so dumb, and desperate, no longer able to find the English language anywhere on his large tongue. He had no control over his body, over the bouncing booty or the fingers dancing across his cobblestone abs.

When his father walked into the room, looking like the symbol of masculinity Matthew had always imagined, Matthew wanted to cry out in joy. He could recognize him from childhood pictures, and he had aged well. He was well dressed, and ripped, and smelled of leather and wood. He hated that his father was meeting him while he was trapped in this slutty body.

But his father was thrilled, and didn’t seem to be surprised in the least by his presence. “Daddy’s home, Mateo,” the man said as he began to pull off his shirt, revealing his lean body that reeked of power and control. “Have been a good slut while I was at work? Are you going to welcome me?”

All Matthew - or Mateo, it now seemed - could say was “Si, papi,” jumping to his feet and starting to twerk and twist his body like some sort of male stripper. His father smiled, inching closer to his trophy boy, enjoying every jiggle of his perfect body. It was then that Matthew began to realize the truth.

His father left because he was gay. He didn’t want kids. His mother had been right, he hadn’t been missing out on anything at all, and the kind of son that his father truly wanted… wasn’t a real son at all. Just a beefy whore that was good for nothing but moving his body and taking his daddy’s huge cock.

Matthew was never able to free himself from Mateo. To the world, that was who he was now, just a beautiful slut with a huge ass and bigger muscles, who had a daddy that flew him to the states and bought him everything his little heart and smaller brain could desire. He was living his best life.

But Matthew was in agony, forever spending the rest of his life with the man he wanted to want him so desperately, only to get exactly what he wished for in the worst way. He’d never go to college for football, he’d never marry his high school sweetheart, all of the good things were gone.

He was daddy’s pride and joy now. His juicy treasure, forever waiting on him hand and foot. Begging for mercy in his mind while he was forced to tell his new papi to do terrible, nasty things to him. Nothing more than a sentient sex toy.

But at least his father wanted him now. Loved him, even.

That was all that mattered in the end.