M4M kink writing. Control and transformation of men. 18+ only.

Tag: transformation (Page 1 of 5)

ThinkTech (chapter 2)

Catch up on chapter 1 before reading on…

Rick smoothed down his jacket to distract his trembling fingers and calm his nerves before he entered the restaurant. Zach had suggested the venue for their first date—a trendy downtown gastro-monstrosity called Salt & Thyme. It had taken Rick way too long to find the place and even longer to park his car, with a few extra minutes outside the restaurant to catch his breath for good measure.  

He glanced through the casement windows into the packed restaurant. Everyone looked like they’d just come from a photoshoot for Casual Chic Monthly. The restaurant was full of guys with trimmed and waxed beards, wearing shirts so tight you could practically count their abs, and women in flowing dresses that looked effortless but probably cost half a mortgage payment.  

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ThinkTech (chapter 1)

Rick’s leather jacket creaked as he hunched over the two-top table, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was barely ten o’clock, still early for a Saturday night, and the regulars had only just started to trickle in. From his perch in the corner, Rick nursed a sweating glass of whiskey, its contents now more melted ice than liquor, and ran a finger along a rough patch of cracked leather on his sleeve. The only piece of leather gear he owned, the old jacket’s worn edges and snug fit lent him a rugged look he rarely felt he lived up to. 

He was a middle-aged bear with a build that was beefy and soft at the same time—rounded gut, broad chest, and thick arms hidden under the leather, with a bald scalp and a beard he kept trimmed short but full. His leather look was more functional than flashy, a way of blending in rather than standing out, but tonight, he felt something different in the air. He scanned the bar as it filled with patrons and music grew louder. Surrounded by men he only vaguely recognized from local leather events and meetups, Rick envied their easy camaraderie from a distance. 

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Hipster husbands

The morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Greg and Jim’s newly redecorated living room. Vintage leather armchairs, a teak record console, and shelves groaning under the weight of obscure vinyl had replaced the La-Z-Boy recliners, wide-screen TV, and photos of the middle-aged bear couple smiling in front of various landmarks. A fiddle-leaf fig stood in the corner, its glossy leaves throwing reflected light onto a battered mechanical typewriter sitting on a reclaimed wooden desk. Wedged between the keys was a thin placard that read “Words have weight.” 

Jim stood in front of the antique full-length mirror, knotting a mustard-colored silk scarf over his too snug button down. The shirt, two sizes too small, clung to him for dear life and was perfectly suited for a man who wanted people to think it was an old favorite. Over it, he wore a tailored vest with a silver pocket watch and chain. Where he once spent the weekend in cargo shorts and t-shirts, he now excluded the kind of effortless chic that actually took considerable effort to achieve. 

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Bound by law

Aaron stood in front of the full-length mirror, but his gaze wasn’t fixed on his reflection. Instead, he stared at the gleaming latex police uniform laid out on the bed behind him. The pieces were so perfectly arranged, each polished to a gleaming shine, reflecting the afternoon light streaming through the blinds. 

It wasn’t just a uniform; it was a promise of change. Aaron’s heart pounded with the weight of what he was about to do. The air felt thick, charged with the raw energy of expectation, as if the uniform itself was watching him and waiting for him to surrender to its authority. Deep down, Aaron knew that once he started, there would be no going back. 

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The 40th Year: Dads by Design

In the dystopian city of Madison, conformity is law. As men approach their 40th birthdays, those who haven’t yet aligned with society’s strict expectations are subjected to the state’s Development and Assimilation Directive. This program forces them into meticulously designed archetypes of manhood, transforming them into hyper-masculine figures—the perfect “dads” that society demands.

Julian, a free-spirited artist; Leo, a reclusive professor; Tristan, a disciplined yogi; and Noah, a nature-loving minimalist—four friends standing on the brink of enforced transformation—are marked for a future they can’t escape. Each is slated to become a new kind of “dad”—a handy handyman, a drill-sergeant sports coach, a relaxed grill master, and a tech-savvy family man. But as the government’s virtual reality workshops chip away at their identities, the battle between personal freedom and imposed perfection grows ever more intense.

Will these men find a way to hold on to who they are, or will they succumb to the relentless programming that promises order at the cost of individuality? Don’t miss this gripping exploration of identity, resistance, and the lengths society will go to control those who don’t fit the mold.

The 40th Year: Dads by Design is a 13,000-word novelette. All content in this story is fictional and describes activities between consenting, unrelated adults who are 18+.

On brand (My perfect dad 54)

Tom adjusted his tie for the third time, feeling the stares of shoppers as he walked into a store ominously called Suburban Savers. His tailored suit, a navy blue ensemble that hugged his tall, slender frame perfectly, stood out against the casual attire of the other patrons. He was acutely aware of the sweat forming at the nape of his neck, threatening to stain the crisp white shirt he wore beneath his jacket. Cody, meanwhile, was already live streaming their entrance, his phone held up high to capture every moment. The younger man, dressed in trendy, casual clothes, exuded confidence and charisma. His messy blonde hair and impish grin made him seem approachable, unlike Tom’s polished and somewhat intimidating appearance. 

“Hey everyone, we’re here at Suburban Savers with my new project. Say hi, Tom!” Cody said, turning the camera toward him. 

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TownFit

Bryan’s eyes scanned the street as he walked, his gym bag swinging lightly in his grip. He had moved to this quiet suburban neighborhood for his new job a few weeks ago and was eager to maintain his fitness regime. After scoping out a few options online, he settled on the closest gym to his new apartment. From the outside, it looked quaint, almost nostalgic, with a classic neon sign that read “TownFit Gym.” Unlike the sleek, ultramodern gyms Bryan was accustomed to, the building had an old-school charm.  

He pushed open the door, the scent of worn vinyl and faint sweat greeting him. It was inexplicably familiar, almost comforting. Inside, the gym buzzed with activity, but it was not the stereotypical health club intensity Bryan was used to. The patrons here moved slowly, laughed loudly, and seemed reassuringly at ease with each other. The average age appeared to be mid 40s, with a striking majority of the men sporting dad bods—soft around the middle but with an air of solid strength beneath the surface.   

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Strings attached

Mick’s heart pounded as he stood motionless in the garage, awkwardly gripping his husband Paul’s hand. Ted’s laughter echoed around them, a chilling reminder of the power he now held over their lives. The air was tense. The scent of sawdust and whiskey mingled with their fear.  

Paul’s mind raced as his face ached from smiling. He tried to piece together how everything had gone so wrong and how he and Rick didn’t realize it until it was too late. Just a few hours ago, they had been enjoying a regular Friday night with Ted, their charming and seemingly perfect friend. Then everything changed.  

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Freshly shorn

Marcus led Jamie down the cracked pavement of Main Street, directing his boyfriend from their car toward the barbershop. Clear Creek wasn’t a ghost town in the strictest sense, but whatever community existed was conspicuously absent from Main Street this Sunday afternoon. An autumn gust whipped through the thoroughfare, swirling old newspapers and fallen maple leaves into a mini cyclone. Jamie pulled his dark green bomber jacket tighter around his slender frame as they passed under an American flag, which flapped noisily from its mast above the awning of an abandoned storefront.  

Contrary to Jamie’s efforts to shield himself from the wind, Marcus cut a carefree, imposing figure as they walked to the barbershop. With his back straight and shoulders square, Marcus walked with a confident stride that seemed to make even the swirling leaves calm down in his presence. His sharply tailored jacket clung tightly to his broad upper body, the black leather creaking with every smooth, undulating motion.  

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Two for one (My perfect dad 51)

DadNet charged a lot of money and made grand promises without much to back them up. But I didn’t care. I was desperate. For the last three years, I had secretly lusted after my next-door neighbor Keith. I watched the 40-something divorced computer programmer wash his car in the driveway, mow his lawn in the summertime, and shovel the pavement in the wintertime. I had built up an entire relationship in my head and played it out in a thousand different ways. In some scenarios, we were married. In others, we were just fuck buddies. Keith wasn’t a supermodel or anything. There was nothing about him that I found particularly intimidating, and there was no real reason why I couldn’t just approach him and ask him out. I was just too scared of rejection. 
 
And then, one day, I saw the “for sale” sign staked into his front yard. After all this time secretly lusting after Keith, now he was moving, and I would never get my chance at him. I kicked myself for an entire weekend, already resigned to the fact that Keith was destined to be the one that got away. 

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