Delinquents

 

“Sup dude?” You wiped your groggy eyes, dazed and confused. You had just been walking down the street, when two grimy skaters collided with you on the sidewalk! That was the last thing you remembered before waking on the cold tile floor, the two skaters sitting in front of you on the bench. 

“What the fuck!” You shout, as you struggle to get up off the dirty tiled floor. You feel your back being pressed back down onto the ground, the first guy’s foot firmly placed on your back. 

“Hey, hey. You took a nasty fall, bruh. Just stay where you are. Don’t want you passin’ out again.” The wet tile floors berate your face with tainted shower water and inconceivable disgust, as the two skaters look down at you, their prey. “You’ll thank us later for everything, bro. Just you see.” The two rise and begin to head toward the door, but not before taking a moment to spit on the ground before you. Laughing, and satisfied with their conduct, they exit the shower room.

You take a moment to gather yourself. Your clothes are sopping wet and stained with brown mud. It had been raining earlier in the day when you were hit, so it came as no surprise to you that you were moderately dirty. The cold, damp clothes sag heavily from your body, adding an extra few pounds to you as you rise and observe your surroundings. The room is well-lit. White tiles line every surface, and open showers line the entire wall to the left. The door in front of you has no handle, which is problematic for a pull door. On the bench where the men once sat, an old black duffel bag now sits. You gingerly begin to unzip the bag, and stop dead in your tracks.

The stench from the bag is overwhelming. It reminds you of the locker room in your high school days, after the dreaded P.E. hour. Inside the bag is a pile of raggedy, trashed clothing. Atop the pile is a half smoked cigarette and used condom. You zip the bag up as quickly as you can, disgusted by the sensory bombardment. 

You begin banging on the door, crying out for anyone to help you- terrified for what the duo had in store for you. After a few seconds of continuous tears and screams, you hear faint footsteps outside the door.

“Wassup, faggot?” One of the skaters’ voices comes from outside the door. You demand to be let free, and promise you won’t breathe a word it to a soul. The skater laughs, and begins to walk away. “Nah, dude. We like you. I think we might keep you around.” Just then, you hear a strange thump behind you. You whip around to find the bag tipped over on the ground, the contents spilled across the floor. In particular, your attention is drawn to the filthy, beat up sneakers, neatly placed near the bench. 

An eerie, foreboding feeling comes over you.  You’re irrevocably drawn to them. It’s almost as if you can see the smell pouring out of them; as if you can feel the heat radiating outward. They’re mesmerizing. You begin to slowly walk toward the sneakers, each step surrounding you with their hypnotic stench. You sit on the bench before them, completely entranced. The dripping clothes seem to float off your body with the slightest ease, as if your body rejects the freezing cold fabric.

Bending over, you take a small sniff of the heavy air. Foot stink assaults your nose, thicker than you’ve ever experienced, and yet you’re strangely drawn to it. You pick up one of the trashed white Vans, the well worn rubber soles and dirty, torn canvas feels at home in your hands. You’re compelled to bring the sneaker to your face, and inhale. The disgusting odor becomes so familiar, so right as you feel the sticky insoles on the skin of your face. 

Your hand drifts downward, to a cold, erect cock. As your hand grasps your shaft, you take a deep breath in. All of the sweat, all of the disgusting musk rushes into your lungs, as you pump your swelling cock. In, pump. In, pump, In, pump. Your body in ecstasy, you slowly realize how dry the skin of your cock is. You need a slick, warm cock to play with. You spot the condom on the floor, filled with warm, sticky cum: perfect. 

You slide the warm condom onto your erect cock, it’s too big for your modest package. But once the sticky, warm cum touches your slit, a wave of incredible sensations overtake you. The disgusting, musky sneaker in your face, and the warm, sticky condom lubing your cock make you as horny as you’ve ever been.

The door opens, and the two skaters enter the room, and gaze at your display. They smirk with pride. 

“You like our thick seed on your cock, don’t you?” You nod as you take a deep inhale of the sneaker. “You love our smelly footsmell, don’t you, faggot?” Mindlessly nodding, you furiously pump your slick cock and inhale the disgusting shoe as they begin to approach you. They kneel in front of the bag. One grabs a pair of filthy socks, the other a yellowed, sweat stained tee shirt. Little by little they dress you, surrounding your in the scent of 1000 sweaty men, an addictive, delicious smell. A raggedy jean jacket and hoodie, a shredded pair of black skinny jeans, a crusty black beanie; you care not. 

“Shoot your load, bruh. Shoot your load.” They chant as you stroke, surrounded and enveloped by their sweat, cum, and stink. Instant release strikes you as your cock erupts streams of cum into the sticky condom. But as you continue to inhale the deep, delicious footsmell, you feel an immense wave of pleasure as the warm, sticky cum of the condom begins to slide right back into you. The two skaters moan and groans as they grope their growing bulges. The cum falls into your balls like a rock, filling them to the brim.

Your body begins to contort and spasm as you grow tall, lean, and musky. With each inhale of your soon-to-be footsmell your body stretches like taffy. The two skaters have begun to pump their massive cocks at the sight of your face twist and warp into an unrecognizable, yet deliciously devilish visage. Tattoos sprawl out over your smooth, sticky skin, and piercings adorn your nose, ears, nipples, cock… Those skaters you used to despise and loathe now appear as brothers to you. And as your transformation comes to an end, your cocky, smartass, shit-eating grin sprawls across your face. You love being that badass delinquent skater bro: not giving a shit about anything, not having any responsibilities or stresses… Just chilling with your bros, frotting around, and basking in your incredible sweaty musk.

What the fuck ever, eh? Gotta live it up while you can, so why wait? Fuck the bitches. Fuck the police. Bros before hoes. Shred the pipe. And enjoy your delectable body.