.jpg)
Sam smiled as he skimmed through his phone while in the comfort of his own bed. Tomorrow he was heading to a music festival with his friends and he needed to get some sleep but had become distracted by his dating apps. At 21, Sam was on break from university where he was studying music and film, the partying lifestyle of a student had bled over into his summer and he had been out partying and hooking up nearly every weekend. However, this weekend was the last one before he would have to return to studying and his final year would be no joke. Sam had spoken to graduates of his course and many had told him horror stories of the amount of work he would have to complete and that he would be lucky to graduate without a breakdown. Hence, Sam fully planned to go wild this weekend and meet up with all the hot festival guys meaning he needed to make sure his photos and profile were on point. As Sam opened his photos he was unaware of the green smoke lingering outside of his window and slowly creeping towards the slender, hipster twink.
Scrolling through the photos on his phone he made sure to select the best ones. There was him by his parents pool, one of him sampling wine and cheese in the south of France, him doing yoga in front of a sunset in Bali, him posing in front of his sporty convertible and him lounging on the beach in Italy. The profile showed off his wealth, lifestyle and his skinny, toned frame in tight shorts, it was perfect although a bit flashy. Opening his camera roll he selected a selfie of him from just the other night in the bathroom, his nice style, his beard trimmed, his designer clothing on show.
The narcissistic twink was happy with his choice and was about to get some sleep when he saw another old photo. Just a dumb candid photo of him in the library studying and being goofy with his friends at university. At first Sam smiled but then the dread and anxiety of going back to study started to creep in and he quickly shut off his phone and turned to go to sleep. A small listless mumble escaping his lips “I wish I didn’t have to go back to uni” was all Sam said and that was enough for the Trickster to pounce on his wish, green smoke sent the twink to sleep and the room around him started to change.
Sam’s peaceful slumber was quickly interrupted as loud violent banging woke him up “WAKE UP TWAT!” An angry, deep rough voice shouted causing Sam to sit bolt upright. No one in his home sounded like that and no one in his home would have called him a twat!? Things only got worse as Sam looked around at what used to be his room but now was completely foreign to him. It was tiny, about a quarter the size of his actual bedroom, the furniture was mismatched and broken, the drawers and wardrobe had clothes spilling out and none of them were designer and if they were they were clearly knock offs. A cheap England flag covered the window instead of a curtain and the wall had no art but a couple of football posters either ripped from a magazine or a newspaper. Rubbish littered every surface, from old beer cans and energy drinks, fast food containers and chocolate bar wrappers, not to mention the 3 or 4 ashtrays full to the brim with cigarette butts. The whole room stunk, not just of smoke but of sweat, of old piss, cum and stale farts. Sam looked down at himself and the bed he did not remember going to sleep in, the small single was cramped compared to the king sized one he had in his room, the sheets were in some cheap childish football print and as Sam looked closer he could clearly see the stains of dried cum. Shrieking Sam jumped from the bed, clad in his designer boxers, the nearly naked twink tried not to touch anything else in the room. Grimacing, he looked at the brown skidmark streak stained on the sheet he had just been lying on, knowing that someone had slept naked and not cared to wipe their own arse. Sam’s heart started to race, not just from the disgust of lying in filth but from sheer panic. Where was he? What was he doing here? Was this a hook up place? Was he drunk? No he was just falling asleep, then he must be dreaming right? It just seemed real, the smells were too vivid, the cold breeze of his flat stomach was too chilly and the loud heavy footsteps approaching were too loud.
Sam was freaking out when a loud thunderous banging hammered on the mysterious bedroom door. “OI I TOLD YA! WAKE UP YOU CUNT!” The voice was rough, aggressive, hoarse and the accent was common perhaps London or maybe Essex, either way Sam did not recognise it. This had to be a dream there was no way this could be real, how could he have ended up here? An abduction was possible but he wasn’t captive. It could have been a drunken one night stand but he remembered going to sleep in his own bed. It could only be a dream or a nightmare Sam reasoned but still he was uneasy as the smell of ash and unwashed clothes tingled his nostrils.
“Last fucking warning! Get up!” The angry booming voice shouted once again and without much thought but mainly out of fear Sam found himself replying.
“Ok coming” Sam said in a meek tone hoping it would stop whoever it was from yelling.
“Good! Now hurry up it's not like you to miss breakfast you chubby fucker” The thumping footsteps walked away as whoever it was chuckled to themselves.
Sam was even more confused, it may have been a dream but he was anything from chubby perhaps even slightly underweight. Sam’s vanity distracted him as he moved his hands down his flat, toned stomach, his fragile ego hurt from the light jab about his physique. He wasn’t chubby, his strict diet and personal trainer made sure of that… but as he tried to think about the gym and the healthy meals he ate, his mind struggled to recall them. In fact he couldn’t even name an exercise he did at the gym or even the name of his gym. Sam closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, why couldn’t he remember anything about exercise or diet. While the fuzz in Sam’s brain continued to invade his knowledge of exercise and health, his body started to change. As Sam lost all memory of the gym, his muscles started to fade, his abs melting away, his biceps shrinking, his toned legs looking thinner and his ass became boney. Eventually Sam couldn’t even recall the last time he ran or jumped, let alone physical exercise and exertion. Instead he remembered sitting on his phone or watching TV, if he was home he was on his ass. To solidify those memories Sam felt an odd stirring in his ass before each cheek bubbled and expanded to give him a wider, chunkier ass to rest on. This gave Sam a more pear shaped body, where his fatter ass and wider hips drew more attention. Sam opened his eyes and rubbed his temples, his head hurt, why could he not remember working out and what were these memories of 15 hour TV binges? Sam put it down to this crazy dream, things never worked right when you were dreaming but it felt so real. Sam looked around the room he was in and swore there were more pizza boxes and cans of drink than before. Sam then heard his stomach growl, had he ever been hungry in a dream before?
Sam grabbed his stomach as it groaned louder and was shocked to not feel his hard six pack abdominals but a soft little belly. Sam was more intrigued than frightened, poking at where his abs should be. The confused dreamer barely registered his whole body's lack of muscle mass. Instead he continued to finger at his belly button and the softness of his flat stomach. He had dreams where he was different, like a tail or could fly but he never felt this connected to his dream body. Sam’s stomach growled again and as the hungry pang radiated out from his torso so did the growth, the softness… the chub. Sam just watched and groped as his body started to grow and expand with fat, his legs looked stumpier and wider, his arms jiggled more as beginner bingo wings appeared. His little nipples grew hard as a pair of moobs sprouted from his chest, small enough that they didn’t sag but big enough to poke out of a t-shirt. Sam’s hands reached around to his butt as he just realised its new width as each cheek expanded further to give a stocky, blubbery butt. A butt that would be comfortable to sit on for hours on end but not toned enough to look good in any clothing. Sam then felt his face as his jawline sunk into the soft fat and a second chin crept under the first. Last was his stomach as it ballooned outwards becoming chubby and jiggly. It expanded outwards until finally it stopped and made it seem like Sam had just swallowed a basketball.
Sam looked over himself as his brain fuzzed up again, the fat arse, big belly and chubby chins made sense as memories of devouring whole pizzas, draining 2 gallons of cola, 5 or 6 cans of beers, greasy kebabs, chocolate bar after chocolate bar and the only vegetable he ever eat were potatoes, cut up, deep fried and smothered in salt and sauce. Sam’s memories of cooking were reduced to the microwave and heating up frozen pizza, he snacked constantly, grazing on candy, crisps and chocolate at all hours of the day. Water was only drunk if it was in a cup of tea, beside that it was beer, cola or energy drinks. His diet was just pure sugar, fat and protein, no wonder he took the fattest shits.
Sam suddenly shook his head as the fuzz in his brain cleared, the vulgar, gross thought finally snapping him out from his stupor. Sam was disgusted in himself and even more repulsed by his body, he hated how it felt as he could now squeeze and grab at whole handfuls of fat, how as he moved his little man tits jiggled and how tight his designer undies felt around his much, much wider arse.
Looking at his chubbier face and fatter body Sam finally decided that this dream or nightmare was too much for him. The bulging belly, the filthy room and sheets, his gross thoughts were past intriguing and interesting and were now just making him nervous, it was just getting too real. He had never felt this present in a dream, he had never felt actual hunger and he certainly couldn't remember thinking thoughts within a dream let alone ones as vulgar as the size of turds.
Taking a deep breath Sam made his decision “Right time to wake up now” He whispered to himself but before he could act on his words the loud brutish voice interrupted him and bellowed from the other side of the door.
“NO it’s time to get fuckin dressed your daft prick! Now try and look smart, I know that’s hard for a slobby prick like you!” The voice echoed throughout the tiny room as Sam flinched from its aggressive tone. Who the hell was that? Sam didn’t really want to find out, what he did want to do was wake up… but shouldn’t he really get dressed first? What if that person came back? They were already angry, he didn’t want to make it worse. Worse still he didn’t want them knocking the door down and seeing him naked, his stubby little cock and balls on display for them to make fun of. With the chub around his belly and the beginning of a fat pad his 3 incher looked even smaller and even more pathetic. Wait, wasn't he wearing trendy designer boxers earlier? Wasn’t he going to wake up? Sam suddenly felt like he was drowning in waves of fear, anxiety and submission. His body could barely even justify disobeying the orders bellowed through the door, the fact that it was just a dream didn’t matter. Sam felt like he was gasping for air as he tried to calm down as he paced around the room pulling out clothes from the drawers and wardrobe, his stubby flaccid cock bobbing around like his tubby little moobs as he bounced around. Sam tried to stop himself but his body seemed to be moving by itself, the thought of disobeying the voice now filled him with dread and within moments he had a pile of clothes in front of him all of which clearly hadn't been washed in weeks. Sam recoiled in disgust especially when he found his foot dragging out from under the bed a pair of heavily stained and soiled briefs.
Sam gagged as the stench wafted upwards, the briefs were once white but now the front was yellowed and damp, almost like cum and piss were still lingering from the last wear. The back was mottled with a range of brown stains, the material had been caressed several times by an unwashed asshole and reeked of fresh fart. Sam couldn't believe he had touched the sodden pair of underwear even with his foot. Some foul beast had clearly worn them for at least a week and there was no chance he would be touching them ever again…or so he thought as he body chose to step into the leg holes.
“No! STOP!” Sam yelled at his own body as it positioned itself inside the filthy underpants. There was no way, not even in a dream he was going to put them on, they weren't his, they were still damp with the fluids of the previous owner and they reeked like a blocked toilet. Yet even though the overwhelming revulsion kept Sam on the verge of gagging his body was still filled with fear, as even now his brain kept telling him he needed to get dressed or else the voice would be mad at him. Sam tried his hardest to fight his sudden urge to obey but still his hands reached down and grabbed the crusted sides of the briefs, not only had they been used to mop up sweat and stray piss, it seems they were also a cumrag. Sam whimpered to himself, the dream becoming too real as he felt the rough stained fabric pull up his legs, until with a sickening squelch the underwear unclosed his crotch, the cold sweat, cum, piss and crap on them clinging to his skin. Sam gagged loudly but his body refused to remove them and even looking down at his tubby body and his new underwear the stains were very clearly visible and the stench was still able to reach his nose. With the soiled undies now on his body and how clearly he felt and smelt them, Sam knew he needed to escape whatever was happening to him because as he felt the damp crotch warm from his body heat and cause more foul smells to drift upwards he knew this couldn’t just be a dream.
Sam then found his body moving to the rest of the bundled up clothes and began putting them on, the recurring sense of fear and anxiety constantly driving his body to act with his brain getting very little say. Following the soiled underwear Sam found himself putting on a tracksuit with matching joggers, the material was cheap and was obviously meant to be an expensive brand but with the obvious misspelling and the scratchiness of the material it was clearly a bad knock off. It stunk of B.O, the armpits had even yellowed a bit from the constant wear and lack of washing, Sam tried not to think about it but it was hard when the tracksuit was clearly a size too small, his new basketball sized gut and moobs clearly pushed out the fabric and made him look even chubbier. Sam then watched himself grab a pair of random socks from throughout the room, one was damp and the other crusty and no matter how much he tried to stop himself his body slid them onto his previously clean feet. This was followed by a pair of ratty white trainers and even as Sam squirmed and squelched into them the stench of his new socks could still be smelt. Sam then turned around and caught his reflection, his face turning into a sneer as he looked at how he was dressed. The cheap tacky clothes that stunk to high heavens, his new bulbous belly starting to poke out from under his tracksuit and the clear lack of style made him look like a slob. Exactly like the voice had said.
Sam was on the verge of piecing together the connection he had made when suddenly his hands felt heavy. Looking down Sam gasped as he looked at the fake golden rings that had appeared on his fingers.
The huge gaudy cheap jewellery looked grotesque, felt uncomfortable and were entirely impractical. They were filled with fake diamonds but still they glittered and glistened, the fake gold almost too shiny meaning that they would always draw attention. Sam looked down at them in disgust, he would never wear anything this cheap, unstylish and flamboyant. The rings were clearly meant to show off money and wealth but with how poorly they were made and the shininess of the materials it was obvious to anyone looking that they were fake conveying the opposite of intentions. Sam knew the rings were terrible but part of him, a growing part of him thought differently. They thought they looked classy, they thought it would make him look cool and it was his feeble attempt at making an effort to try and look nice. Sam then let out a wince of pain as both of his earlobes began to sting and as his hands reached them he felt the large studs of earrings lodged in them. Sam swung around to his reflection and tried to get a good look at his ears, the earrings were clearly large as his ears hurt from carrying the weight of them. Sam sneered in revulsion once again as he saw the very large glass studs in each of his ears, both meant to masquerade as diamonds but very obviously failed. They once again added to his cheap and nasty appearance and rather than making him look expensive they instead made him look dumb and foolish. As if to continue his failed pursuit to look smart, Sam found his body finishing off his outfit with a bright gold chain to match his bright fake gold rings. The weight around his neck added to the other fake accessories he found he had adorned his body with all in the attempt to look nice and smart for the voice on the other side of the door. Sam couldn’t believe what he was thinking, look nice, look smart!! He was in some smelly off brand tracksuit with cheap, fat rings pushing his fingers apart while his new fat gut poked out the bottom of his outfit. He looked like a dumb, slobby chav!
Panic finally started to set in for Sam, as he looked at his reflection and the vividness of the smell coming from him, he realised he didn't look like himself anymore. Sure in dreams you change but not to this extent, not to the extent where you change from a skinny, toned, stylish twink to chubby, slobby chav! Something really wasn’t right, his fatter body felt too real, the sodden, moist pouch of the undies rubbing against his stubby cock felt too real and the bellowing growling voice on the other side of the door sounded too close as it once again barked orders at him.
“C’mon you dickhead! I’m leaving in 5 minutes! I don’t know why you fuck around with your hair all the time, you ain’t bloody got much of it!”
Sam instantly reached for his hair, he cursed himself for being distracted by the rings and earrings. He knew the voice behind the door had something to do with this, it was him who was causing the changes, he called him chubby, he called him a slob and now he said about his hair! Not his stylish, coiffed hair! He had paid a lot for his haircut, spent hundreds on products, shampoo and gels for it and it was a key part of his style or it was. His hair was an integral to who he was, it's what helped attract guys, it could be styled in many ways to match his look or mood and currently it was the only part of him that still looked like him. He wouldn't let anything happen to his hair, he needed to get out of this room. Sam lunged for the door and pulled at the handle but it wouldn't budge, he tried a few more times before he started to look for a tool to pry it open and just as he began to search Sam heard and whirring, a distant buzzing that was getting closer and and closer. Sam whimpered as he knew the sound instantly, anyone would as you hear it anytime he was at the barbers, the buzzing of clippers. Sam became frantic as he looked around the room for the source of the buzzing but couldn’t see anything but still it grew louder until Sam felt something slide along the side of head. Sam wildly grabbed at his head and let out a cry as a large strip of his hair was now missing and his bare scalp was easily felt. Sam rushed around the room whimpering trying to find anything to bash down the door but all he found were more skidmarked stained undies or old food containers and the decaying food inside. Sam returned to the door and bashed on it hard and with every smack he felt the invisible clippers whizz over his head and shear more of his hair off into oblivion. Sam started to sob as his banging gradually lessened as his hair was forcefully shaved off until, eventually Sam stopped pounding and the buzzing stopped. Sam didn't want to see but he had to know the damage as he slowly looked over at his reflection. His stylish cut was gone and replaced with the standard dumb chav look, the sides shaved down to skin, the top left only slightly longer and combed forward into a low maintenance, cheap caesar cut that any turkish barber or home hairdresser could do and from Sam’s uneven cut it was clear it wasn’t done by a professional.
With his new outfit and hairstyle, his new weight and smell Sam didn't recognise his reflection, he saw a dumb, fat chav lad, a slob he would see hanging around a McDonalds at 11pm or smoking cigarettes down a dark alley on a council estate. He looked like the standard idiot yob that would be avoided by any respectable member of society, he looked like a chubby chav and Sam hated it. He looked dumb and uneducated, he smelt unhygienic, unwashed and he felt fat and lazy. A world away from the stylish, healthy, toned, university student he was supposed to be. Sam still hoped that this might still be a dream so that he would wake up back to normal but he knew this was all something much more sinister now, no dream or nightmare was like this. This was what he looked like now and the more he stayed in this foul little room the more he would change. Psyching himself up Sam stormed towards the door in front of him, if this was him now and not a dream he needed to escape, he needed to get home, he needed to find his family, his friends, they would help. He could return to his life, hair grows back, weight can be lost and showers can be taken. Whatever was happening to him, he was going to beat it. He needed out and he needed to get away from that voice, that aggressive, arrogant, dumb voice that had twisted and changed him into the fat chav he now looked like. Readying his shoulder Sam took a few steps back before taking a deep breath and charging at the door. As soon as Sam made contact the door swung open, falling through Sam expected to step in the hallway but with a wisp of green smoke Sam found him barging into another bedroom, one that was occupied with the source of the brutish voice that had been changing him.
“About time, you chubby cunt! We need to get a move on.” The giant yelled, Sam almost pissed himself in fear, he had no idea who this guy was and why he had so much control over him but everything in his body was telling him to listen and do as he says. “What no apology? ‘No sorry Wayne for taking so long, no thank you Wayne for making sure I get out of my pig sty of a room and have mates, no sorry that I’m a smelly fat loser that needs you to do everything around here? Fuck it’s a good thing I’m the smart one around here fuck knows what your dumb arse would be doing without me!!’ Wayne continued his rant but Sam found it harder to concentrate.
Looking down Sam didn’t know what to do, he felt inadequate, he knew he was much smarter than this layabout moronic chav asshole, he was at university for christ's sake and this guy could barely speak proper English. However, no matter what Sam thought his body wouldn't dare respond to the insults and derision, instead Sam felt the horrid feeling in his mind creep back in. The feeling of guilt, anxiety and submission. It was then his brain started to fog up, as his mind began to slow, Sam’s eyes widened with fear as he realised that even though he wasn’t trapped in that room, he was still hearing his orders and Wayne was still changing him! Sam wanted to move but his body was frozen in fear at the intimidating chav staring him down, his mind struggled to come up with words as huge chunks of his memory and knowledge seemed to evaporate, writing and spelling were hard, maths was impossible and even reading text messages was tricky, that why he really had to sound it out loud to put together tricky words like knobhead. Sam wanted to cry as university was erased from his brain, college was but a faint dream as his education was reduced to that of a 9 year olds, even following two part instructions could be tricky, luckily he had Wayne to look out for him. Sam felt tears well up in his eyes as he searched his brain for his schooling but was only met days bunking off, missed exams and reading books meant for young children not adults!
Sam’s old life was being rewritten not just his education but his childhood as well, his old friends disappeared and instead they were replaced with Wayne. He had grown up with Wayne on the estate, Wayne helped him grow up, even though they both left school at 15 Wayne had the sense to get them both a job at a local site, Wayne moved them into his uncles council flat up north, Wayne told him what to do and everything was alright. Sam wanted to scream as memories of blindly following the tall, muscular chavs instructions came to mind, any dumb thing he wanted him to do he did without question. Eat that off the road, get this from the shop, give me fifty quid, smell this, clean the shitter. Sam could never disobey Wayne, he looked after him even if he was treated like shit most of the time. Sam stood dazed, his mind reeling from being torn to shreds and rebuilt as a dumb, obedient chav, a slave to a smelly brute. Sam felt weak, his brain felt slow and it was getting harder and harder to remember who he once was, what he looked like and what his life should be. He turned to the mirror and saw his mouth hanging open like a moron, he was the epitome of thick chav lad and now he was trapped with a dominant, cruel chav friend. He was too stupid to be apart from Wayne and too stupid to know how horrible Wayne was to him, his life was going to be miserable and Sam knew he needed to escape it somehow.
Sam just wanted to scream the old him was gay but, the new him, the one in control wasn’t so the thought of sucking cock and eating ass was the opposite of arousing. The new him longed for a girlfriend but the closest he had come was to that was a fat bird down the pub who had let him touch her boobs once. Instead he was resigned to hearing Wayne fuck and pound a bitch every night while he wanked his sad cock in the room next door. He was now totally pathetic, a dumb virgin who only seemed to attract the sex he wasn’t attracted to. Sam had been demoted from gay stud and lothario to straight lonely virgin getting off to Wayne’s sex noises.
Sam soon found himself walking outside, his mind in tatters, he had lost his body, sexuality, looks, style and almost all of his free will. He did not recognise the street he was on, the home he exited or even the beaten up white van in front of him. He was completely isolated and if he didn’t do something he would be trapped here. Sam wanted to run, he hated what he had become and he couldn’t let this be his life. There had to be people out there that remembered him or at least would help him. Staring down the road Sam willed his body to sprint away, to get as much distance from Wayne and his new home as possible but… Wayne had told him to wait. His body would never disobey, no matter how much his mind wanted to do the opposite. Wayne was a god to him now and as the brute stomped outside and ordered him into the white Van, Sam’s body didn’t even fight back. Sandwiched next to the behemoth Sam felt the real him sinking further into the back of his mind, like the warmth that comes from hyperthermia it was almost inviting. Perhaps it would just be better to give in, what hope did he have anyway? As Wayne drove Sam struggled to comprehend what had happened to his mind, his past and his appearance, was he even himself anymore, could he even return to his past life. Perhaps he should just become his new slobby, dumb, submissive chav self. Sam was about to give up when his thoughts were interrupted by Wayne the giant brute had angled himself to the side, his tracksuit clad arse pointing directly at Sam ‘Oi ya prick smell this one!!’ PPHHRPPPPPAAAATTPPP! A booming, noxious fart came rolling out of the chav’s fat nasty arse. The stench was inhuman, thick with shit and sulphur and instantly Sam found himself choking on the fumes of his new best friend. Wayne was in stitches as he laughed at Sam tearing up and gagging on the smell. Wayne laughed harder when he locked the windows to trap the stench in. Sam was left panicking that he might actually suffocate before eventually he was able to catch his breath. Sam looked at Wayne with pain in his eyes and only saw amusement and pleasure in Wayne’s. Sam knew if he didnt escape he would be just like that awful fart. He would be trapped forever smelling like shit and left with this beast of man only around for him to abuse. His mind may have been weak but he still had fight left in him, he just had to find the best moment to use what power he had left. His nostrils burning Sam was forced to endure several more farts and was forced to praise and rate each butt blast by his new best friend before they finally arrived at their destination, a rough, local pub.
Sam tried to resist but his body pulled him out of the van and forced him to follow his new mate, his large ass happily unleashing another couple of farts for Sam to wade through and smell. That was until someone shouted out “OI Wayne over ere!”
“There’s my favourite dumb little fucker, phwoar Wayne you been testing your farts out on the little twat again.” Kane laughed and Sam blushed; he even reeked of farts now, he was pathetic, that was made even more clear as Kane turned around and presented his own wide stocky butt to him. “Ere get a load of what I’ve been brewin” Sam couldn’t even react even if he tried with the chav's massive arse pushed up to his stomach he felt the rumbling vibrations rattle through his body as Kane unleashed a booming, long disgusting fart onto him. Sam could have cried, he felt so humiliated. In a crowded room he had done nothing to stop this slob from pressing his arse up against him and farting, everyone was looking and while Kane and Wayne laughed Sam was mortified. The smell was awful and people moved away but Sam had no such option as Kane grabbed him in a head lock and laughed as Sam was forced to inhale the meaty shit filled air.
Through his laughter Wayne smiled and said “Right I’ll get the first round lads” Then with an almost green glow in his eyes he stared right at Sam. “Now you keep Kane happy you daft twat, that’s my best mate.”
Sam felt frozen in place, the command burned into his brain, his mind swirling, the hurt he genuinely felt when Wayne said that Kane was his best mate and not him, the fear of the lumbering, reeking brute next to him and his old self barely clinging to existence. Sam turned to Kane who watched Wayne disappearing into the crowd before turning to Sam “Oh yeah you’re gonna make me happy aren’t you mate!” Kane's giant hand then engulfs Sam's hand as he pulls it and put it onto his huge bulge, Sam squirmed as he felt the warm, fat 9 inch cock that pulsed and squirmed under Kane’s dirty shorts. Sam looked up horrified to see Kane smiling at him, like a lion would smile at prey. Sam had no idea how to react as Kane began to move his hand up and down arousing the monster cock below. “I can’t resist a dopey cunt with a fat arse and Wayne is always telling me what a fairy you are, I’ve been wanting this for a while now!”
Sam and his brain were in turmoil, no longer gay this wasn’t hot to him anymore, in fact Sam felt repulsed, his own cock shrinking away as he still held Kane’s thick cock through his shorts. He wanted to pull away, he wanted to tell Kane he wasn't interested, he wanted to run but Wayne had told him to keep Kane happy he wasn’t going to disobey, he wasn’t going to make Wayne mad and he certainly didn't want to make the 300 pound smelly beast that was Kane mad. Sam could only whimper, if there was a time to escape, to use the little power the old him had left it was now. Readying himself Sam started to focus and concentrate on taking control. It was like wading through thick mud as Sam pushed himself to the front of his mind, he wouldn’t have long and he would only have a brief moment of control but he had to do it. The closer he got the more of his body he felt, the more he could move himself and the more he could disobey. Sam started to rejoice as he found himself moving, just a little at first but then he walking away. He felt his hand leave Kane’s cock and him taking steps away from Kane the giant slob and leaving this awful new life. Sam focussed hard as he felt more control as he walked away, he pushed past people in the pub towards a door, a door that would mean freedom, a door that would let him escape Wayne and his cruelty. He wouldn’t be Sam the dumb, slobby, smelly, virgin chav, he would be back to his smart, stylish, confident gay self. Sam smiled as he pushed himself through the door but his smile soon faded as instead of a street and freedom he saw a row of urinals and toilet stalls, the sound of men grunting, pissing and farting was all around him and as he turned to exit he bumped into the broad, heavy chest of Kane who had the biggest grin on his face and the largest throbbing cock bulging from his trackies. Sam started to step back but Kane grabbed him “Oh you nasty little fucker, I knew you wanted to a piece of this cock” With only a fraction of his power Kane pushed Sam tumbling backwards into a toilet stall and with that push Sam felt all control he had worked so hard for slip away. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Screaming and crying Sam was pushed further and further back into his mind, his body relinquishing control as a new person was in the driver seat. Sam wailed as Kane pushed Sam to his knees and a fat sweaty, cheesy chav cock was pushed into his face.
After 15 minutes of serious, angry deep-throating Kane finally unleashed a torrent of cum down Sam’s throat and all over his face. Sam was left gagging and gasping for breath, his fate sealed, never to escape his new life, new home, new friends and now most importantly his new lover. Sam weakly looked up at his new master and saw his beaming smile, wiping the cum on his hand on Sam’s head he gave him a couple of slaps on the cheek with his softening cock. “Thanks Baz” The Chav smiled and one last time Sam’s mind fogged up, as his entire past existence and life were hidden in the back of his mind replaced with the new person in control Barry Tubbs, or Baz to his mates or Tubby to his best mates. Sam was trapped as Baz the thick as shit, smelling like shit and looking like shit chav, that although was straight now had a boyfriend and a best mate that would bully him relentlessly.
Baz tried to recover but Kane kept him on his knees, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Ur goin to be seein a lot more of me and dis cock. Ya see I needs a new place to stay and Wayne says us guys can share.”
While Sam screamed at the back of his mind Baz just nodded and wiped the cum dripping from his lips, he would do anything to make Wayne and Kane happy even if it meant sucking cock. Kane smiled at his new dopey cum dump “Yeah it’s gonna be so much fun… I can’t wait to get you back to ur room later there is somethin I ave always wanted to try but no bird has ever wanted to put their tongue up there!” Kane then smiled and turned his huge, pale, white ass towards Baz and leant forward giving Baz the perfect view of a nasty shit covered asshole which was followed by a wet sloppy fart erupting from Kane’s arse. At that moment you might have been able to hear Sam’s screams coming from the back of his mind, the promising future of smart gay man lost to a new fate of a dumb, slobby, submissive idiot, stuck sucking cock and smelling farts of the two biggest, nastiest chavs around.
The Trickster smiled as he peered into Baz’s future, days on end of him sucking Kane’s fat cock and eating his ass at the building site would keep him busy day in and day out.
The young lad’s wish was granted he would never have to head back to university, not that they would take him anymore, I mean he could barely count how many farts Wayne and Kane had done in his face this morning and he was supposed to be keeping score the daft twat!
Big thank you to a good friend who was the model for the start of this story!
Mmm to love Baz's life...to be a fat lazy chav...
ReplyDelete