Button

Jose was a bright young man of just 23 and was beaming with youthful ambition. Finishing top of his class at a top university in his field, his academic prowess could not be denied. It shocked no one when he was quickly snatched up by one of the top mechanical engineering firms in the country on a very enviable starting salary.

He was never an anti-social young man. Jose had many friends all throughout university that he would meet with and tutor regularly. Public speaking or anything that involved being put on a pedestal did terrify him. Despite his large intellect, he remained humble. Jose’s physical attributes ensured that.

Standing at six foot six, his height was that every girl dreamed of. His face was boyish but was starting to show the mature stylings of an attractive man with a square jaw. Brown hair naturally curled on his head that reached down to his eyebrows in a cute mop. Brown eyes, bright with intelligence, analyzed the world while his skin looked naturally sun kissed during winter.

While tall and possessing handsome features, he lacked any real muscle definition. In his arms, one could easily identify his humerus, ulna, and radius. The same applied to his legs. His ribs were not visible, but not for the reason he would have liked. Years of study and very poor diet produced a gut that did not appear to be slowing down in its growth.

With the signing bonus from his new job, young Jose was able to make the downpayment on a small townhouse in the ‘cheaper’ part of town. The demands of such a high skill job and the pressure to prove himself immediately made the move in process very slow. After six months, he was still living out of boxes. As luck would have it, he finally had a free weekend to try catching up.


Pressing the phone between his head and shoulder, Jose talked while building his bedframe. “I know, I know. It’s been months since we hung out, but this is my first weekend and I’m tired of living out of boxes. Plus, how am I supposed to bring a date home when I sleep on a bare mattress on the floor?” He tightened the last bolt and stood up. “Meet up tonight? I’ll think about it. Can’t make any promises though, I’ll likely be exhausted. Let me know when the next time comes, ok?”

Continue reading “Button”

Himbo Volunteer

A cool late winter breeze shook some snow off the trees, creating an illusion. Trees ached in relief at the lessened weight. Fresh powder reflected the sunlight driving back the shadows.

Carl stomped his way up the logging road. His snowshoes kept him above the snow, greatly aiding in his efforts. However, the weight and cold were quickly taking hold and draining his energy fast. With any luck, he’d soon find what he was looking for. Looking forward to living a dream, he pressed forward up the road.

Carl hugged the inner treeline as he walked around a curve when he spotted some optimism. Less than a hundred yards away resided some disturbances in the snow. Revitalized, he pushed forward. Each step was still difficult but much more doable.

He approached the disturbances to discover that they were exactly what he’d hoped for. Deep tracks, almost trenches, crossed through the snow. To wide, deep, and consistent for any animal active this time of year. But for a himbo, it was likely. Eager to find the heard, he jumped into the trench and started following it, hoping to find the source.


Continue reading “Himbo Volunteer”

The Smell of Ty

Content Warning

The following story contains themes and language some readers may not find acceptable. These include musk, complete domination, and derogatory language. If you find any of this to be not to your liking, may I suggest you checkout my catalog.


Mark strolled through the doorway of the small, detached house he owned. ‘Own’ is a relative term here. The bank owned it and he was paying the mortgage. A few months prior and this distinction would have been irrelevant to Mark; after getting laid off, this distinction was critical. No more could he pay the full bill on the greatly reduced income he was making in the gig economy. Cuts had to be made.

The specific cut was currently lounging on the couch playing the latest FPS in what appeared to be the same workout clothes he’d left in this morning. Named Tyler, or Ty as he insisted, the cut Mark had to make was giving up his home office and letting someone rent the room.

Ty had only been living there a couple of days, but already he was making his presence known. While they each had their own rooms, the bathroom, living room, and kitchen were shared. In none of these places was Ty greedy in his allocation of space but the sudden cramptness was jarring to a man who’d been living solo up until now.

Stepping out of the mud room, the primary area of Ty’s encroachment hit Mark like a brick wall. An oppressive wall of stench assaulted Mark’s olfactory as his eyes watered. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled out as his watery vision began to clear. “Did you not shower after work, Tyl…Ty!” Mark corrected himself before his new roommate would comment.

Without breaking eye content with the TV, Ty lifted his arm and sniffed his pit. “Guess not, oh well. Not that bad bro.”

Continue reading “The Smell of Ty”

Changing Whisper

The sound of a car crashing into another filled the room, followed by sirens in the distance. Week old pizza boxes were pilled on the coffee table as empty mountain dew bottles litter the floor. The blinds are closed tight, blocking all light from entering.

Ted opened the door to his apartment and was assaulted by the wall of stench. Immediately, he dropped his bag and stepped further inside. While walking to the far side of the room, he spoke. “Jesus Elijah, did you leave at all this week?” Reaching a window, he threw the blinds and opened the window.

“Fuck that’s bright! Oh, hey Ted.” Elijah paused the game and scratched his head, thinking. “I think I checked the mail once while you were gone.”

Cold air blew into the room, clearing out the funk. Ted stood there, exhausted. “What happened to that hike? Y’know, the one you swore you’d do during your week off.” A week with his high-energy family had worn him down physically and returning to Elijah’s slobishness was doing the same mentally.

“D’know. Didn’t feel like it I guess.” Elijah was done with the conversation. He turned away from Ted and unpaused his game, filling the room with noise.

Ted was starting to get highly annoyed. “Let’s go hit the gym, bro.” With any luck, he’d be able to work of the numerous calories before they stuck around.

“Don’t wanna.”

This made Ted angry. He was attempting to help Elijah be healthier, possibly get laid, and definitely not die young. The anger finally got to Ted. He threw his voice into an unusual tone and cadence. “Come with me to the gym.

Continue reading “Changing Whisper”

Candied Cockslut

A shiver ran up Max’s spine as he was roused into wakefulness. The cool breeze causing eddies of fresh powder outside had already sucked all the warmth out of the small house… again. Grumbling, Max slipped out of his fortress of relative warmth to refill the wood pellet fireplace.

Darting through the communal room, something felt out of place. Whatever that something was could wait, conquering the cold held his utmost priority. Limbs shivering, he filled the furnace and restarted the fire.

Again, something felt out of place. Again, the cold held top priority. Ignoring the peculiarities, Max leapt back to the bedroom. A momentary debate coursed through his mind as he went. ‘Bed or clothes? The bed is already warm, but the clothes would let me get coffee.’ The desire to feed his caffeine addiction won out and he expected family to start calling any minute to wish him a Merry Christmas. Quickly, he slipped on some heavy sweats, long sleave shirt, t-shirt, house coat, and thick wool socks before.

Coffee machine bubbling, Max could finally direct his attention to investigating what felt off this cold Christmas morning. The source was easy to spot. Sitting to one side of the fireplace stood a box standing a little over a foot tall and wrapped in plain paper.

Continue reading “Candied Cockslut”

The Hat

Quick keystrokes filled the small dorm room as Domingo frantically wrote his first English 1A paper. It was the first week of school and the instructor assigned a massive paper. Between research, drafting, and proof reading, Domingo was severely behind. Stress coursed through him as he worked.

Chad strutted into the small dorm he shared with a smart nerd he’d only met a week before after a good workout. His pump was on point as his post-workout musk quickly dominated the small room. He quickly plopped himself on his bed and pulled out his cock and lifted his arm behind his head, heightening the musk to near toxic levels.

Domingo tore himself away from his laptop just long enough to yell at his dumb jock dorm-mate. Every frickin’ day with this guy, getting sweetly and disgusting at the gym and refusing to shower. Then, when he got back to the dorm, he’d just start jerking off. Once again Chad told him off but put his dick away regardless.

Tired of the constant badgering, Chad remembered something important. The college’s jock frat that he’d already signed up to pledge next week had given him a special item with the instructions to give it to a nerd that bugged him. It appeared to be a simple flat brimmed baseball hat with the school’s football team logo, and as far as he knew that’s all it was. Domingo was really getting on his nerves this past week.

Continue reading “The Hat”

Dumb on Cum: Chapter 5

Sam scribbled through the test before him, hand gripping his hair as he did. Every question requiring his full attention and taking longer than they should. Painstakingly, he finished every question as best he could before starting the next without a moment to pause. Finally, as the instructior was walking towards him to college the test in its current state, Sam finished the last question.

Despite nearly running out of time, Sam was confident he would receive an acceptable grade. The next week as the graded test was placed into his hand, his heart dropped. Dread filled him as questions of what he’d do next pounded his conscious mind, screaming in unison preventing any one from gaining dominance.

In fat red letters across the top, Sam could read ‘Unweighted: 15% Weighted: 59% Grade: F’. Sam had just fucked himself, royally screwed himself over. Not only was this his first ‘F’ ever, but it came from the worst possible class. This was the hardest class in the major, the one class that separated the boys from the men, those who would graduate from the program and those who would drop out or change majors.

Looking up at the instructor before she’d moved away, Sam recognized a shake of regret. She knew Sam couldn’t recover from this blunder. This momentary flash of non-verbal communication did nothing but heighten the already overwhelming feeling of dread that held him hostage.

Continue reading “Dumb on Cum: Chapter 5”

Dumb on Cum: Chapter 4

Friday started on a peculiar note for Sam, but one he knew would soon become habit. Roger had nearly busted his door down in excitement for their morning workout together. Dutifully, Sam dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, and met Roger in the kitchen for his pre-workout before the two left together.

On his second time entering the “man’s” gym, Sam felt less out of place. He still looked like a dweeb trying to get big, but he walked with an ounce more courage and confidence than before. Making his way to the locker-room, Sam was exited.

Stuffing his street clothes in a locker, he turned to Roger. Roger held the item Sam had longed for all the day before, a red baseball cap. When Roger handed it to him, he thanked his coach and immediately threw it on.

Continue reading “Dumb on Cum: Chapter 4”

Dumb on Cum: Chapter 3

Sam awoke with a jolt. Roger had slammed the door open and yelled at him to get up. Acknowledging he was awake, he climbed out of bed and threw on some old ratty gym clothes and worn trainers.

Brushing the sleep from his eyes, Sam met Roger in the kitchen. Roger was dressed in his own gym gear, much newer and well put together compared to Sam’s disheveled mess of colors. “Morning coach.” Was all he mustered out before being handed a bottle and being told to drink it.

Sam remembered everything from the night before. From sucking Roger’s cock twice and admitting to loving it to being hypnotized and filled with motivation to work out and that Roger was now his coach to get big. Calling Roger ‘coach’ was both a joke and a token of appreciation at the same time.

Continue reading “Dumb on Cum: Chapter 3”

Dumb on Cum: Chapter 2

In his bedroom Sam laid on his bed, attempting to jerk off. Normally a daily ritual for the young virgin, he’d been struggling since he’d sucked Roger’s cock. Porn wasn’t helping, as having a cock in view reminded him of Roger. Lesbian porn also didn’t work, somehow the women just didn’t seem as hot as they used to be. Even Jasmine, the big breasted woman from his math classes, couldn’t fill his loins with lust like she once had.

Depressed, Sam decided to check up on one of the few people he considered a friend. Someone he had and could hopefully pour his problems out for with the hopes of reaching some enlightenment. A friend he had recently embarrassed himself with, his housemate Roger.

Knocking on the door, there was no answer. Thinking that Roger must be home at such an hour, he gently cracked the door open. Inside, he found Roger snoozing away in his boxers, enjoying an evening nap. He began to turn away, leaving Roger to sleep, when he noticed something peeking through the boxers. The head of Roger’s cock was peeking through, almost inviting Sam in.

Continue reading “Dumb on Cum: Chapter 2”