Gary signed loudly as he picked up yet another pair of dirty socks that his stoner roommate had left lying around. He wished he understood why his roommate was such a slob. That was when he saw the half smoked joint underneath the clothes. Maybe it was the wish or the smell but Gary couldnt help but put it to his mouth and light it, sucking in a huge slow cloud that drained all his thoughts. Cleaning is boring. Being uptight is for losers. Just get stoned, watch anime and live life. He fell back into the chair as his hair creeped down his face in a cool but messy style and his body fat melted away into toned skater muscles. His mind filled with Naruto, Demon Hunter and other anime he loved watching with his roommate while they flexed and smoked weed. He showed off his firm new arms and giggled dumbly as his face finished changing to become round, innocent and playful. No more stuck up roommate just another stoner to stink up the place.


    Stoner TF! :D One of my favourite tropes.

    “Who the fuck are you!” You stared at the half naked man lying on your sofa, playing GTA V, the room reeking of weed and… some unidentified scent. “Get the hell out of my house!” You were shrieking like a banshee, yet this studly stranger took no notice of your rage. 

    “Yo, bruh. Why you screamin’? Calm down.” As if a Valium hit you like a brick, waves of relief washed over you. 

    “I… I don’t know.” You stood there, dumbfounded. Wondering why it was you were so surprised this dude was in your apartment. You calmly place your stuff down at the door, kicking off your uncomfortable work shoes.

    “Man, that fuckin’ job has got you stressed out as fuck.” He sits upright, patting the leather cushion next to him. Your head still fuzzy, you idly find yourself waddling over to him, and plopping down next to him on the couch. He tosses his arm around your shoulder, and hands you the second controller, which you gladly accept. There is nothing like Grand Theft Auto to let out all that aggression that builds up after a bullshit shift. “Sit back, and just let it out bro. I’ll roll us a blunt.”

    Marco bends over, opening the pot box. Wait. Marco. Yeah, that’s his name. But, why do you know him? How do you know him? Have you seen him before? It’s as you stumble over the little holes in your memory, your nose is bombarded once again by that strange smell. Sweet. Salty. Sour… It’s rank! Yet, addictive. Your mind occupied on the game, your nose focused on the smell… It’s a sensual overload when Marco finally has the blunt in his mouth, lighting it up and letting out his typical massive cloud.

    “Aight, here.” You take the blunt from his fingers, and he tosses his arm around your shoulders once again. You bring the blunt to your lips, and light it. You inhale, taking in that oh so familiar spicy taste of ganja. You sigh as you let out the smoke, settling into Marco’s comfortable hold. You try and pass it back to him, but he quietly refuses. “Nah, man. You need it way more than I do.” 

    You two shout and laugh together, high as kites as your outrageous shenanigans on GTA coincide perfectly with the absurdist humour the weed brings out. It’s at this point once again that your drawn again to that smell. It tickles the hairs in your nose, giving you shivers down your spine. Marco looks over to you, noticing your obvious goosebumps down your arms. 

    “Ahh. I know what you need.” You feel a hand grab the back of your head, and within seconds, your face is buried in a dark, dank little space. The smell is pulsating into your nostrils, clearly it is coming from here. “Yeah, I know how you like it. Breathe it in, babe.” You grasp Marco’s meaty pecs and back, pulling your face deeper into the sweaty armpit. He always knows how to treat you when you’ve had a rough day. Marco plays on, smiling, yet nonchalantly unperturbed. You lap up the beads of trapped sweat from his damp pits, savouring each and every ounce of his salty taste. 

    You pull away from your boyfriend’s musky pits for only a moment; just enough time to slowly and seductively pull down his beat up sweatpants. His gorgeous cock springs to attention, smacking you in the cheek. The familiar sour stench of his musky balls and cock welcomes you back to your favourite place on earth. 

    Marco grabs the base of it, smirking that familiar, cocky sidegrin. You know exactly what to do. You gently kiss and caress his tip, fondling those melons he calls his balls. Your insatiable lust takes over, as you go down on your boyfriend, deepthroating as if you’ve done it every single day. Each time your nostrils hit his bush, you take in that incredible stench, a product of his lackadaisical stance on showering.

    He grabs the back of your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth, throatfucking you like he loves to do. He growls, moans, and grunts as he furiously fucks your face. Each slap of his balls on your chin, you are reminded of the amazing streams of seed that will flow down your throat- your drink of choice. No sooner as you think it, Marco roars out his animalistic grunt as he shoots his massive load down your throat. Stream after stream, neverending. You can feel the cum get caught in the back of your throat, heading up to your sinuses, and trickling down your nose. Each throbbing thrust of cum fills you in ways you cannot explain. As if it flowed from your mouth to your toes, filling you up with every single burst. You found yourself pulsating, your muscles stretching and contracting with every load barreled into your powerful gut.

    Marco dismounts your cum-soaked face, and passionately kisses you. His little alpha persona is such a mock up, as you know that he’d rather just light a blunt than boss you around! You look down at the tattered remains of boring square work clothes on your lean, muscled body. What the fuck had happened? Who the fuck wears that shit? Thank god you sell out of your place, so you don’t even have to put pants on! Slipping on your favourite trash shirt, and rancid, cumsoaked undies, you plop back into your seat, while Marco begins to repay the favour you paid him. He’s in for a surprise. You didn’t wash up this morning, so there might be a little… Build up down there. You take a puff of your blunt as your boyfriend goes down on your cheesy cock. Damn. Doesn’t get better than this.


    One of my Tumblr crushes @idesofrevolution write this, it’s genius, just like him. Do your self a favor and read it!


    welcome back, we've missed your awesome stories! i saw you were accepting stories and idk if you still are, but i was wondering if you could write one about a stressed and uptight college student who just started winter break and smokes weed for the first time and becomes a blissed out hippie stoner dude? thank you!

    Steve was finally home. This last semester had been a rough one, he knew he probably should have chosen an easier major than Biology with a pre med track. Still he'd be damned if he ended up like his parents, living paycheck to paycheck skipping a few bills each month so there was rnough money for food....and that was with 2 incomes. All the stress, the late nights, the skipped social life, the crying in the bathroom before a final he knew he wasn't prepared for, it would all be worth it once he was making a doctor's salary and able to support his own family someday. But for now he was home on winter vacation with finals behind him and next semester scheduled he could finally relax. He was going to school in New York but his home was in New Jersey. And he had recently found out, to his shock NJ had passed a law allowing recreational weed. He never thought that would happen but he guessed the hippies fought long and hard for that to slowly be legal. Since so many brag about it and its calming properties he decided to try it out. He couldn't get in trouble and now didn't have to know anyone to buy it. He found out where to get it and came home.

    After taking a hit he felt more relaxed. Another hit he felt dizzy. Another hit and he fekt like he was forgetting shit and as he felt his intelligence fade away he felt a smile creep across his face. Facial hair began to sprout getting scruffy and itchy, his hair started to get messy. He started to get slimmer and felt great about himself as the bags under his eyes lifted. All signs of stress left him. His medical knowledge faded in favor of alternative stuff like weed and essential oils. He grinned as he accepted his new life as a stoner.

    Steve was my rival in the experimental biology class, but I had a plan to take him down a peg, and turn him from the professor’s star pupil into a stupid lazy stoner.

    I invited him over to study, knowing he’d accept. He showed up right on time – God, what a nerd. A skinny dweeb, so much smarter than everyone else and so god damn arrogant about it. Well, I’ll show him.

    We sat at the kitchen table, books open and notes everywhere. I waited until he was concentrating on a lab report, and then I pressed the button on my remote control.

    There was a flash of light as the emitter went off – he didn’t even notice that he was sitting directly under a bunch of wires and tubes that I’d attached to the ceiling. He raised his head and stared at me in shock, and I could see the transformation begin.

    First, his smug nerdy expression drooped and became sleepy, stupid, and vacant. All his smarts were melting away. He got a dumb smile on his face as my machine replaced his personality with something new.

    “What’s fuckin’ happening, dude?” he slurred.

    His body began to bulk up next. Muscle tore through his dress shirt, ripped open his pants. He staggered to his feet, towering up over me – he was so tall now! His feet were huge, his hair grew long and shaggy, so messy and unkempt. He was unrecognizable.

    He rubbed his muscular chest and looked at himself. Steve the genius was gone. Now he was Stevie, the slob, the stoner, the lazy dummy. I’d written this new identity to be everything he hated.

    “Fuck, bro, I feel weird,” he rumbled. He shook his head, then glanced at me. “You wanna smoke up?”

    “Fuck yeah dude,” I said. Wait, what? Then I saw my reflection in the mirror behind him – I’d changed too! I must’ve been too close to the emitter. We were twins now, identical idiots. I struggled to remember who I was, how to reverse this … but it was all slipping away from me. Forever.

    Get more stories of transformation, power, and control:


    Thomas and his brother Will had always gotten along. Will was older but they always played video games together, watched the same animes, shared comics and just overall had similar interests. That was until Will met Matt. A new guy who moved next door. He was a total stoner, he smoked weed all the time and was a dealer. He was a lazy good for nothing addict and all he ever did was sit around, smoke, and listen to music. And thats all Will did when they hung out. Will got addicted and was over Matt's house every day, he had less and less time for Thomas. He wouldn't watch tv or play video games or even help Thomas with homework.

    Thomas was so angry at Matt, he just wanted his brother back. He came up with a plan to ruin the friendship. There was a loose board on the front porch where Matt would hide weed for Will and Will would leave money there. So If Thomas took the weed it would look like Matt took the money but gave nothing, the two would fight and he'd have his bro back.

    Thomas went outside and got the baggie out from the loose board and went to hide it in his room. However when he got there the sharp smell of the weed hit his nose. It would normally be gross but right now it suddenly smelled so good. He couldn't stop himself as he snuck into his brothers room to get a lighter and lit the joint.

    Puff puff

    This waa good actually....really good. He started to feel a little dizzy and took another inhale.

    Puff puff

    His shirt was suddenly hot and restrictive feeling as his muscles shifted and expanded. His skin tingling as ut started to tan slightly. He couldn't hell it, he NEEDED to get this damn shirt off! He pulled it off and felt instantly better as the air of the room hit his chest.

    Puff puff

    His hair started to dye itself blond until it looked like brown hair at the roots and blond near the tips. The hair itched and gelled itself up as he grabbed a hat from his brothers room and put it on. He couldn't stop as he took another hit.

    Puff puff

    He knew something was wrong, his memories and knowledge were leaving him. High school, most games besides cod faded away, anime except the more popular ones like one piece or naruto vanished from his mind. His eyes went wide as the color faded to a light blue as a red tint took over and it was clear all the intelligence was sucked out like someone had given his brain a blow job. He knew he should be worried as he casually and slowly glanced at a mirror but he just thought with those eyes and that haircut he looked kinda likd naruto. He started thinking of rap lyrics as his hand moved on its own tk take another hit.

    Puff puff

    Suddenly even the ability to worry melted away as time seemed to slow down and he had no idea how much time had passed. His dick twitched as it swelled bigger and thicker and harder than it ever had before. He shoved his hand in his waist as he started to jerk....up and down....up and down

    Puff puff

    He felt the sudden desire to smoke more and hang with Will and Matt....they were his bros....wait now this was wrong, Matt took Will away from him

    Puff puff

    Nah nothing was wrong...they wrre his bros...Matt was fucking awesome...he kept jerking faster

    Puff puff

    He got the feeling that if he came, imtgis would be permanent yet he couldn't stop himself

    Puff puff

    Wait he had to stop! He didn't wanna be some deadbeat stoner like..

    Puff puff splat!

    Huhuhuh....Tommy was chuckling when his brother found him with his pants down, high as fuck and covered in cum.

    (This is either an old story lost in the purge or an old story I forgot about and never posted. Either way im posting this and going to post a different newer version of this later.)

    You and your older brother Chad weren’t like most brothers, you hung out every day playing video games, watching movies and just hanging out. That was until Shane moved next door. Shane introduced Chad to weed and then that was it. No more video games, no more movies, no more brother time. Chad spent all his time getting high with Shane. You needed your older brother back and it seemed the only way to do that was get rid of Shane. Chad and Shane had a system. Shane would leave weed under the floorboards of the porch once a week for Chad. You decided to come home early one day and hide the weed before Chad got it. Then he wouldn’t have any weed to smoke and he’d blame Shane, ending their friendship.

    Making sure no one was watching you carefully extracted the baggie from under the floorboard. You were about to sneak back into your room when a strange desire hit you. You needed this weed. Your hands began shaking and drool dripped from your mouth at the site of the sticky kush. Almost in a trance you began rolling the weed into a blunt with the paper Shane had included. You licked it close enjoying the taste on your tongue, a sample of what was to come. You found a lighter Chad had left in the windowsill.

    Puff puff

    “Oh maaaaaan” you almost moaned, your voice deep and slow and full of smoke as you exhaled a fog of envoloping smoke. You felt the tingle hit every muscle in your body, sinking you into the chair. Everything felt so relaxed and itchy. You pulled up your shirt seeing thick black hairs crawing out of your skin and over your belly. “Ew gross where is all this hair coming from?” You tug at your shirt and pull it over your head in a hurry. The hair has reached your belly button and continues in an almost unbroken line between your pecs before spreading all over your chest. Your spare hand finds its way to your growing nipples which have become large and sensitive. Your pecs expand and soften with fat and you develop a bit of a belly beneath the dense treasure trail. You groan in pleasure and confusion before recognizing your larger hairy chest. “I’m becoming Shane…” you realize with a mix of terror and excitement.

    Puff puff

    “I’m becoming Shane…” you repeat with a flat voice and a dumb grin. You notice your arms bulking up, muscle and fat blossoming across them. Getting thick and strong. You flex a big bicep. “Yeah mayne…” you moan. Your hands swell, clumsy thick sausage fingers wrapping around the blunt as you continue puffing. Hair grows on the back of arms and hands, going down across your fingers. Shoulders swell and broaden and thick tuffs of hair erupt from under your arms evoking a famp musky aroma around you that mixes with the sweet smell of weed. You’re disgusted and aroused by your new stinky aura.

    Puff puff

    You hear a loud rip as Shane’s fat hairy toes pop out of your shoes. Your small size 7s expand across the hard floor, becoming long wide size 12 boats. The bottoms of your feet get hard and dirty. You laugh and easily kick off the bits of tattered fabric, wiggling your big toes and putting your smelly feet up on the guard rails. More and more hair crawls across your now thick legs, your thighs double in size and a thick, hairy ass pushes out from behind you, shredding your shorts and leaving you in just your tight underwear.

    Puff puff

    A fat, hairy cock flops out of your underwear and slaps against your belly, filling you with pleasure. Your tiny balls inflate with your new stoner cream and push hormones in your body. With one hand you grip your blunt while the other massages your large meaty cock.

    Puff puff

    A thick chinstrap forms over your face which ages and loses its youth and innocence. Your brow gets heavier and thicker. Your eyes turn dark and dull and youth mouth hangs open a dumb grin. Small studs appear in your ears and your hair shortens and becomes sweaty and unwashed.

    Puff puff

    You struggle one last time to fight Shane’s dominating presense. Your hand glued to your dick and each puff and stroke making it harder to think, harder to resist.

    Puff puff

    “I’m… not…”

    Puff puff


    Puff puff splat

    “I’m Shane bro” you give a goofy grin as you splatter cum all over your hairy belly and start rubbing it in. No more little bro to get between you and Chad now. You lean back and wait for your best friend to get home so you can smoke and stroke and chill. Just the two of you together forever now.

    Puff puff

    Introducing our new line of transformation headwear: Beanie Brainies

    A beanie that will warm your skull down to the brain.

    Each beanie, when placed on the head, will alter the mind of the wearer in a different way based on its color. However, no matter the color, it’s our guarantee that every beanie will make the wearer gay, dumb, and obedient. We will be releasing the following colors this season:

    Green- Give him a fresh start by clearing out that brain of his, completely. Its your job to fill it back up. Recycle. Reuse.  

    Black- Make your man dominant. Let him take control.

    Gray- Show your boy who’s boss. He will be truly submissive in this hat.

    Blue- He skates. He smokes. He has tattoos. He loves coffee. He’s your hipster plaything.


    stoner tfs? yay/nay? personally a big yay, and would love to see more of them from you

    Oh absolutely yes. I’ve got a stoner TF in my book Transformation Camp but we could always use more.

    Maybe a messy sweaty skater who smokes one joint too many and starts coughing and braying as his ears grow furry and tall, his converses buckling apart as hooves push through.

    Or a stuck up businessman who thinks he’s too good for flower so he gets a vape pen… little does he know that with each dose he’s getting stupider, stronger, beefy with muscle. Soon he’ll be trading in his suit and tie for a tank top and jockstrap.

    Or how about a bodybuilder who gives his friend’s pipe a try, inhaling and relaxing and shrinking down into a submissive little twink. His friend always wanted a little sex toy of his own, and by the time the bodybuilder realizes how small he’s gotten, he’s horny and desperate to get fucked.

    Which one’s your favorite?


    Absolutely love Stoner TFs. Would love to be tricked into smoking some weed to help me relax and de-stress from my corporate job, that ages me back from 30 to just after high school, erasing all my higher education, slowing down my speech and thoughts, while leaving me with a stoner’s never ending munchies paired with a stoner’s supernaturally fast metabolism keeping me lean and maybe even a little scrawny, and making me only good for skateboarding, shoplifting, hanging out at the beach, rolling beautiful joints, going on hikes and taking mushrooms, monster bong hits, and polishing my thick cut cock, sometimes alone, sometimes with a smoke buddy, or sometimes with a whole room full of potheads. I’d be such a fucking stoner that taking my loads would make a guy high; my own cum would be permanently laced with concentrated THC. I’d wear flat brims, tanks, and vans in the summer and smell dank within an hour of taking a shower, that is when I remembered to take showers. Some piece of clothing on me would always have marijuana leaf print. In the winter me and my stoner buddies would hitchhike up to the local mountains, smoking out drivers and giving them handies or roadhead. We’d crash where we could, often 3 or 5 to a sofabed, a tangle of smelly, horny, hungry and dumb potheads. We’d all wake and bake, then snowboard with many potbreaks along the way, and finally come back to smoke, let our dicks out and chill. What a way to relax.


    Spirits of Halloween part 1

    Kevin was always jealous of his older brother Tom. Tom was a surfer and a stoner who had skipped so much school their parents had low expectations of him amd had just given up. He was dumb and relaxed all the time, always had guys and girls over and just surfed. He seemed to have it made. Compared to Kevin who was an overachiever straight A student and had finished high school with a 4.0 amd honor society membership. His parents always pressured him to do well, calling him their "future doctor" since middle school.

    So when Halloween came around as a jock he stole a pair of his brothers board shorts and got a tan colored t shirt on to be a surfer for halloween. Tom didnt notice as he was watching horrod movies with his latest date. Kevin had a lot of fun until midnight struck just when he got home. A strange pulse of energy went through him and a few others as the spirits of halloween had their last prank for the year.

    He looked down and felt strange as his shirt vanished along with his shoes, socks, and underwear. Leaving him in just the boardies. His body hair faded as his muscles grew and stretched and flexed into attractive lean muscle. His skin took on a tan and his hair grew longer and started to turn blondish. He was shocked as his hands and feet grew and his core strength improved for better balance. He was confused and about to scream when he noticed his dick starting grow longer and thicker in his shorts and began stirring as hormones and intense horniness filled him. He grined confidently as his IQ dropped along with his balls dropping further and he started to crave the weed he was smelling from his bro. Picturing hot guys and girls and sexy surfers. He moaned and started jerking off right then and there and once he busted his nut the old nerd Kevin has gone forever...replaced with Kyle the hot surfer and best bros with his bro.

    “Whoa, hey, you’re naked,” I blurted at my roommate when I walked in the door. The smell of pot hung in the air. I knew he liked to get comfortable when he smoked but he’d never gotten naked before.

    He just smirked at me. “Yeah, I’m naked,” he said, then giggled. “Man, you gotta try this new stuff. I never been so relaxed.” I glanced down at the pipe of the coffee table. I didn’t usually smoke and was about to say no, but there was something sweet and pungent about the scent hanging in the air that called to me.

    “What the fuck,” I thought, “it’s been a long day at work. Why not.” I picked up the pipe, lit it, and took a breath.

    “Yeah dude,” he smiled, leaning back and opening his legs to show off his sexy soft dick and dad bod. The weed smelled sweet, and the pungent salty smell, I realized, was actually from him: his sweaty musky body odor. I slowly exhaled, feeling the burn of the smoke in my throat and the woozy high that immediately hit me. It tingled, a prickle that warmed my blushing face and crept down my neck, my chest, my belly, my hips and ass and cock, then flushed my legs with heat.

    Suddenly my clothes felt so heavy and tight and wrong and I had to get them off, pushing down my pants and underwear and tearing off my shirt. I yanked off my shoes and stepped back, staring down naked at the pile of clothes with one sock in my hand.

    My roommate laughed. “You look good, man,” he said. “We oughta get naked all the time.”

    I looked up at him, and started giggling, even though I had no idea why. This weed was making me so stupid, I thought, then forgot about it immediately and looked down at the sock in my hand. I couldn’t even remember what it was for. Was this clothes? How do people wear clothes? I picked up another item from the pile, a shirt I think. I stared at it, baffled. I knew I’d been wearing it just a moment ago but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how. It was like all knowledge of wearing clothing was just … gone.

    I dropped whatever it was, and looked back up at him. He was so hot, I thought. So fucking sexy. That hairy body, the untrimmed bush, the metal in his nipples and his thick strong chest. I felt woozy again, my dick getting hard. He saw that and got another fit of giggles, wiggling back and forth in the chair. “Wanna fool around?” he said.

    Absently, I picked up the pipe and lighter again, lit the last bit of green weed, and took another breath. “Whoa, man, careful, that might be too much,” he laughed. I set the pipe back down as another warm tingle swept over me.

    If the first dose made me dizzy and dumb, the second completely emptied my mind. For a moment I couldn’t remember who I was, where I was, what was going on. But I knew that my arms were heavy, my legs sore, my balance off.

    What was I doing up on two legs? I was confused. My heavy arms sunk to the floor, my legs bending to go down on all fours, like I belonged. Two legs are for humans. I wasn’t a human. I was a pup. Right? That’s who I was. I was pretty sure.

    My master said something, and laughed, but he said it with human words so I didn’t know what he meant. I just barked, and sniffed the pile of clothes on the floor. Why did they smell like me?

    Then he said something I understood – “come” – and patted his bare lap. Panting, I trotted over on all fours, and sat obediently at his feet. “Good boy,” he said, and rubbed my head. I whined and pressed my head into his hand, then barked and licked his finger. He laughed and said some more human words, then pointed to his dick. I understood what that meant, and put my paws up on his lap to take his soft cock in my mouth.

    “Ahhh,” he sighed, leaning back. He smelled so good, sweaty and strong, my alpha. I felt his dick hardening between my lips, and I swirled my tongue around it. It tasted salty, manly, a single droplet of pre-come smearing on my tongue. I loved it. I wanted more. I wanted his come.

    “Good boy,” he grunted, rubbing behind my ears as I sucked. Yeah. I am a good boy. His good boy.

    Read more stories of sexy gay transformation:


    What’s wrong?

    “I feel weak… am I getting shorter?”

    How tall are you?

    “I’m uhh…. wait… Why did you call me a dumb stoner a second ago? I’m nothing like one.”

    What are you talking about Jack? You’re telling me you’re really not a stoner?

    “I’m not Jack, I’m—,” 

    You’re who?


    Jack you’re so high right now. You’re the laziest, most stupid stoner I’ve seen roaming the streets in a long time. We’ve all seen your type… When waking up all you do each morning is lay in bed and touch yourself, and take hits from your many bongs. 

    “No– I don’t… do that… I’m..”

    Jack, you always do that. It’s all you think about doing. Even right now you’re hard and aching to touch yourself, aren’t you?

    “I- uhh.”

    Try to think about real life shit… you can’t, can you? Your dick keeps interrupting. Oh, and how do you even spell the word ‘rite?’ Is it ‘righte?’ Fuck you can’t even remember. Just think about your stoner dick man. 

    Hey I like that tattoo by the way, I like how it’s filled in green. 

    “Fuck dude im so horny ur rite.”

    Well, get strokin’ man don’t wait for me! You love playing with that dumb stoner dick all the time. Stroke that thin 7-incher… up and down, up and down, you love pot and you love strokin’ all day long.

    “Uhnnnn dude. up—- up and down, up and down.”

    Up and down. Don’t bother cleaning up your spunk. Your room is a mess anyway. 


    Hey I'm a college nerd and I am feeling way over stressed by my since classes, GPA, and just generally have a lot of anxiety. My boyfriend wants to help me out but can't always calm me down when I'm stressed, though I know he has a skater fetish. Can you please turn me into a dumb stoner skater so I can finally chill out and relax, and my boyfriend can get the kind of guy he wants out of it?

    One moment, you’re frantically cramming for your upcoming finals, and the next, you are standing outside, in the fog. The cold air is bracing against your skin, and you can see your breath misting up in front of your face. It’s spring. It shouldn’t be this cold. But that’s the least of your worries, as you’re in a city that you don’t recognize, at the corner of two streets that shouldn’t exist, in front of an imposing store front that is difficult to see through the haze.

    You could go anywhere that you want. You feel that you have that choice. You could turn around and leave, or you could follow either road that was behind you, but you don’t. Your feet carry you forward, and as you push open the door, and the bell rings, you realize with a start that you’re elsewhere again.

    You can feel the sun beating down on your back, but there’s a haze in front of your face again. At first, you find it weird, that the fog isn’t getting burned away by the bright daylight, but then you remember, silly you, that it isn’t fog. It’s smoke. You giggle to yourself, at first surprised to find how vapid and empty the sound is, only for the thought to slip promptly out of your grasp as you take another drag from the rolled up joint pressed between your lips.

    Your head feels fuzzy… Foggy… It feels wrong… At least until you inhale more smoke, and then it feels just right. You know that you’re not supposed to feel this slow, this dumb, but your thoughts are going at a snail’s pace right now, and you’re not about to win any awards for complex ideas. 

    You giggle as you realize that your ass is hanging out of your shorts. What are you doing thinking about smart stuff? What are you doing thinking about thoughts? Everyone knows that you’re not very good at those. For a moment, you feel as though that’s wrong, that you’re really a very intelligent student, but another puff of smoke makes that thought pop like a delicate soap bubble, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

    “Hey babe,” someone says, as he comes up behind you and presses his crotch to your exposed ass, “thought I’d find you here… At your usual spot.” You giggle again, sounding so dumb, and so mindless, and so thoughtless that it makes your little dick hard. You grind your ass against your boyfriend’s hips and groan, begging for him to fuck you as you take another drag from your joint.

    All it takes for you to forget the rest of your previous life is the feeling of your boyfriend sliding his cock up and down your crack and into your tight little hole. It’s the best feeling in the world, and you could almost feel your brain melting into a little puddle of mush, trickling out the tip of your cock.

    Maybe you were looking for more of a temporary solution to your problem, a brief vacation, maybe, from all your smarts and all your anxiety, but doesn’t it feel so much better to be a good little stoned sexed-up, fucked-stupid slut for your boyfriend? Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?

    Not like you know any better now, anyway…

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    Thanks dude *giggle* me and him.are sooo happy now!

    The Thousand Dollar Joint

    Its no secret that i like to get high every now and then. Like parties and lazy friday nights and stuff I’m usually kicking around with a joint in my pocket, ready to light up at the first oportunity.

    I want to clear something up before we keep talkin about this tho. I’m not one of those lazy fucks who’s always just lying around playing video games or raiding the fridge. I just like using weed cause it turns my brain off for a few hours.

    I still workout more than anyone I know. And I swim like six days a week. But I like the way I can barely think when I’m high - just chill out instead of talk talk talking all the time. Sometimes I get so high that I just forget whats going on half thru the sentence and…

    Yeah. I luv that.

    Where was I? Right, so like last weekend my buddy Paul corners me at Jess’s party and he tells me he’s got this bomber joint. Dude claims he paid a thousand bucks for this, and I’m just laughing along. No way right? Pauls always been kinda out there so just roll with it…

    We go out on the deck and light up. Paul hands me the joint and tells me to take the first drag. I feel the smoke in my chest, hold it there, and release it in a long stream.

    “Whoa…I said”. “That’s some good shit.”

    It’s hitting me fast.

    “Take another hit” Paul says handing me back the joint.

    I do. Fuck yea, my brain is getting hazy already.

    Next time Paul takes the joint, I notice that he doesn’t actually take a drag. He just waits, then hands it back to me…

    So I take another

    And another

    Soon the joint is nearly gone, and Paul just keeps telling me to smoke more.

    “You sure u don’t want…” I said

    “Yeah bro,” he says. “I kinda got it for you.”

    It’s hard to follow what he’s saying.

    “It’s permaweed” he says. “You’re gonna stay this high forever. And with the sex drive it gives you, you’re gonna make me some sweet coin when I sell your swimmer ass to this rich fag that got me the joint.”

    “Huh?” I say. That didn’t really make sense. What was…what’d he call it. Whatever.

    “Take the last hit…” he hands me the joint. So I do what Paul says. It’s easy to just follow.

    I inhale deep, and a funny idea comes into my head. I grab Paul and kiss him deep, exhaling into his lungs. His eyes get wide…Lol, I know he can feel a buzz off the weed, even with just one hit

    I tell him to take another…one long drag that finishes off the joint. This is so fuckin funny. He takes it.

    We ended out the night in my bed like we sumtimes do. When I woke up in the morning tho…my head was still like this. Weird. Nothin is making sense.

    “Hey Marc…” says Paul. He’s got this goofy gleam in his eye. “Go shower. I’ll come in and join you soon…”

    Sounds like a plan. Fuck I’m still so fucked up I think I’d do just about anything someone told me to.

    Paul and I scrub eachother down in the shower. I suck his thick cock while he stands there, just enjoying the water.

    “Marc, just put on your underwear.” he says after we get out. So I do. Then we walk to the front yard…to be honest I’m really just following Paul.

    There’s this black limo there. Paul tells me to get in, so I do.

    “Paul…” says a voice in the dark of the car. “Did u smoke any of that joint?”

    Paul lets out this giggle.

    “Get in the car Paul,” the voice commands.

    A year later, I’ve gained 20 pounds of muscle, but I probably lost that much in brains haha. My owner does all my thinking for me and Paul. Paul is my gym buddy and my fuckboi now, except for the nites when our owner wants one of our asses.

    It’s the fuckin life, I tell u bro. I just gotta lift and swim and walk around in nothin but a speedo or a bright colored jockstrap. Paul has his own costume… our owner has him working as a butler in just a white thong and a black bow tie.

    He even got a full joint to smoke on his own too.


    hey,Im here because lm here to talk about my best friend who came in here before our class?i mean he was a bona fide nerd like me earlier this week then he came to school dressed up like a stoner and acting like one,after he visited you,if you did something to him i want you to turn him back please,im the only one who seems to remember he was a nerd

    If you can remember how he was before visiting me something must’ve gone wrong. It’s a shame I can’t change him back so that means I will have to change you instead. You say you were best friends? I will make you just like him then. This way you can be friends again. First your clothes need to change man. No more nerdy clothes for you. Let’s change your wardrobe to only contain t-shirts, skinny jeans, and sneakers. Then I will change your hair. Let’s give you long brown hair, that’ll suit you. Some nice muscles to rock the shirts and tanktops you’ll be wearing.

    From now on school won’t be the most important thing in your life. That’s hanging and smoking with your best friend from now on. You can be best friends again. Isn’t that great? 


    He assumed that the magic basketball would turn him into a studly basketball jock. He was wrong. The chubby nerd’s layer of fat melted away but instead of turning into muscle it just stayed off, leaving him skinny and scrawny. He knew that his intelligence and booksmarts would drain away, but as his eyes dulled and his mouth hung open stupidly he didn’t feel the cocky, aggressive need for dominance he expected - no, he felt chill, relaxed, laidback. Soon a dopey grin would break out on his face. He’d still be a basketball player, just a different kind than he imagined - instead of a jock on the team, dedicated to the sport, he’d just be casually shooting hoops with his stoner buddies.

    On the final months of his senior year at college Brads friends dared him to sit butt naked in the old field near campus where historically the hippie movement had protests during the early 70s. Feeling he had spent his entire college life studying and never having fun or getting the “authentic college experience” he reluctantly agreed. Doing something goofy or having some hazing was part of that experience after all. As his friends watched, he stripped down and slowly lowered himself to the grass, shuddering and imagining the long shower he would need when he got back to his dorm. When his bare skin touched the grass however a sharp shock surged through him and a strange glow of colors surrounded him, coming from seemingly nowhere, scaring his friends. They could only watch, too startled to move as their friend grew younger, losing the last four years of college, his facial stubble, his worry lines, and most signs of maturity. His hair sprouted forth, growing longer and thicker than it had ever been, in ridiculous, unwashed curls that would have sickened the former Brad. The slight ramen gut receeded and his chest flattened, becoming smooth and toned with young, healthy pecs and the slight outline of abs. All over his body cracked, stretching out and growing tall, goofy, and slightly awkward with large hands, long fingers and big, gangly feet. All across him a healthy tan spread with no real solid tan lines visible, showing he was no stranger to being naked outside now, only a slight smudge of white skin around his bare ass and noticeably longer dick, suggesting sometimes he wore boxers or shorts, but not often. His mind was no stranger to the changes either being hurtled back through time with visions of protests, drug fueled parties and lots of sex, dulling knowledge, stress, the last 4 years of college, and the last 40 years of history from his brain leaving him just a horny, happy 70s teen. “Far out!” He slurred in a high pitched stupor of a voice. “Dudes, come dig this grass!” He reached out with new strength and speed pulling his old friends into the grass, the college was about to have a serious pot problem…


    - Bro, smoke this joint bro. Its like nothin you ever had before, plus you look wicked fuckin tense lately, all up in your own grill, you feel me? Yeah… smoke up bro. Feels fuckin epic amirite? It lasts for fuckin ever, too… all smooth n calm n shit bro. Then when your at the gym with us, your Nu bros, itll feel ten times as fuckin awsum bro. Your gonna feel great, just focusin on the good things in life bro: the gym, your gear, sports. You dont wanna be smart no more huh. Its fuckin hard bro. Let it drop.

    - Huhuhuh … fuck this dopes killer brah. Whats it called?

    - Nu weed bro, for a Nu you.


    I was new to hypnosis and needed a subject to practice on, and my roommate Brody volunteered.

    “You’re not gonna doing anything weird, are you?” he said. He’d just come back from work and was wearing his mechanic’s overalls, smelling of sweat and grease.

    “Nope, just relaxing,” I said, holding a sparkling crystal in front of him. “Just focus on the crystal and relax.”

    “Relax,” he agreed, his eyes drooping. Was it working?

    “You’re getting tired and cozy,” I told him.

    “It feels so goooood,” he murmured. “Ohhh, man, can you make me feel stoned?”

    “Yes, you’re feeling the most intense high of your life,” I told him. “You’re forgetting everything.”

    “Forgetting?” he said, smiling at me and slowly scratching his head. I could smell the sweaty musk of his uniform when he raised his arm. “I like forgetting,” he said. “I guess. Feels good. So dumb.”

    “So calm and serene,” I said. “No worries, no thoughts. Just a dumb happy slave.”

    He giggled stupidly. “A slave? Uhhh okay,” he said. “Can I be your slave? I like you.”

    I wasn’t expecting that. “Sure,” I said. “You’re mine. All mine.”

    “Yeahhhh,” he sighed, unbuttoning his uniform and sliding a hand inside to rub his dick. Oh my God, this was turning him on! I should probably stop it.

    “And now you’re waking up,” I said.

    “No man,” he sighed. “I’m still fucking stoned. So dumb. Your slave. Your fucking muscle toy.” He started pulling off his uniform to show me his fit, hairy body.

    “Wake up, Brody,” I said.

    “No Brody,” he said, still undressing in a foggy trance. “Just two sloppy sluts, you and me.”

    “Brody!” I said, holding the shiny crystal closer. “Wake up!”

    He smiled lazily, pulling off his uniform to stand before me in his underwear.

    “Gimme that,” he said, grabbing the crystal from me. Shit! I tried to yank it back from him but he waved it in front of my face and suddenly I felt so heavy and tired.

    “Brody … don’t …” I said.

    “Don’t worry, man,” he said, waving it back and forth. “I’m your slave. And you’re my handler.”

    “I’m your … yeah,” I said. That sounded correct. I was in charge here, for sure.

    “You’re the boss,” he said. “You take care of me.”

    “You’re mine,” I agreed. “I own you.”

    “Us two, we just fuck and work out and fuck,” he said.

    “I’m gonna hit your ass so hard,” I told him. “Then we’re gonna get huge.”

    “Yes sir,” he smiled. “I’m all yours to fuck with.”

    “Come here, slave,” I said, grabbing him roughly and pressing my mouth against his, kissing him deeply and wetly. He dropped the crystal and my mind clouded over, the two of us reeling backwards.

    Brody shook his head.

    “What … what happened?” he asked.

    “I, um, hypnotized you,” I told him. I really couldn’t remember, though. What had I done? What happened to my memories of the last few minutes?

    “Oh yeah?” Brody said, rubbing his head. He smelled intensely of sweat, his nearly-naked body glistening before me. God, I was so lucky to have a slave like him.

    “Yeah, you were totally under,” I lied.

    Brody shrugged. “I dunno why you need hypno,” he said. “You know I’ll do anything you say.”

    I smiled. He was always so obedient. “Good boy,” I said. “You ready to head to the gym?”

    He grinned and grabbed his dick. “I’m always ready, sir,” he said. Then he reached over to grab mine, which was already hard in my pants. “And I’m always ready for what comes after.”

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