*** Fresh Material 1 ***
On most occasions, boys and men came into the Jockhole specifically because the store sensed they needed something. Today however, the shop was overrun.
Jockhole headquarter's many novelty items forced the location to draw customers all day.
Ace handed over the new E-Z-Grow thong, which was now officially part of the inventory and carried the Jockhole label.
"Here, try this one," he said to the boy. As the customer marched to the queue at the booth, a different satisfied twink boy in a Jocktrap was about to leave the shop.
"Wait," Ace said. "Have a look at our jewelry, or at the gear display. Plus you get a free razor. And how about our new line of hair products?" He inhaled and mumbled to himself, "Gee, we keep adding more and more."
The twink-soon-to-be-muscle-jock squinted at the offered items. "Sorry, but my belly button stud and earrings are all I need. And my mohawk is still fresh."
"Hair dye then?"
"I guess I can... Oh, there's no green one." The boy stroked his lime colored hair. "But I don't need a refresh yet anyway."
Ace waved him goodbye and leaned on the register counter. This was turning into a chore.
He restocked the green dye, but pushed it back so customer's eyes would fall on the pink one first.
More boys arrived and he distributed thongs – Jockhole, E-Z-Grow, a Monsterhole or two and some Made in China ones. He didn't even have time to establish relationships between the boys. But he was running out of couple necklaces anyway.
As five boys left at once – nipple pierced and pink haired – a soft thud got Ace's attention. Packages had appeared behind the counter.
After slowing down the production of Bullhole caps, Jockhole needed new headwear. The result were snapbacks with the freshly minted Powerhole label.
While emptying the boxes, Ace greeted new customers and recommended regular old Jockhole thongs, which were still most of the merch in the store after all.
Once the next boy was about to leave and the spiel with razor, hairdye and piercings was done, Ace slapped a Powerhole hat on the latest lean muscled jock teen.
The boy started mouthbreathing and walked with a strong swagger in his step.
Ace slapped another cap onto the next boy and said, "How are you doing, young man?"
The thong wearing twink boy looked at him with a slack open mouth, his dick visible growing semi hard. "I'm just fuckin' great, man." He grabbed his crotch. "Could really go for a ride, though, if you know what I mean, ha."
"Sure."
The ultra-confident twink looked around the store. "D'ya know if any of these fucks are lookin' to be dicked down?"
Ace handed the boy a Painhole necklace. "That beefy guy with the blue mohawk over there, posing in front of the mirror wall. He asked for this necklace. Just lock it on him. It'll get you guys talking."
"Thanks, man," said the boy and swaggered off.
Another thud behind the counter.
Ace retreated from the bustling store to open more boxes. Fingerless E-Z-Grow training gloves. Nothing special then.
Except... Ace read the instructions on the inventory sheet. Wow, really?
The store had cleared out a bit by then.
A fat, greasy blond boy entered, whose name Ace didn't even care to sense. He just handed over a white Twinkhole jockstrap from the Mighty-I line.
The once fat kid returned to him as a delicious, youthful and smooth Indonesian.
"You look like you're ready for the gym," Ace said.
"I guess so," the transformed boy said and absentmindedly scratch his neck where the Twinkhole tattoo was. "Uh, so how much does this thong cost?"
"You must have come in with it since I don't see a price tag."
"Um, right..."
"But actually, how about training gloves. Here try these."
While the boy put the gloves on, Ace scribbled on the tag that had just been attached to them. There was no price on the tag – only empty lines waiting to be filled with orders.
The caramel skinned twink said his goodbye and turned away.
He took exactly five steps before stopping and doing five deep, slow squats. Each time he went down he yelled "Fuck me!" at the top of his lungs.
He got five steps farther and repeated the process.
"Hey you," Ace said. "Have a look at the gear shelf while you're passing it."
The boy glanced at the Painhole equipment and said, "I don't need any of this."
The vendor saw that an anal plug was now missing from the display.
Five steps later the boy did his squats again, complete with "Fuck me!" shouts.
It took him forever to leave the store. Ace scratched out the numbers on the tag and put down new ones.
The twink walked away, doing one extra slow deep squat ever ten steps. His shouted profanity let Ace know how fast he moved away from the Jockhole, ten steps at a time.
Ace finished reading the instructions, just to make sure the twink wasn't permanently stuck this way.
A pimple faced, black haired teen with thin glasses appeared at the register. His name was Alberto as the shopkeeper's mind knew right away.
"Um, hi. I just started training and I was wondering if you had protein powder or something."
"Ah," Ace made. "We'll fit you out with the proper attire first. Take... let's see... this poser."
"I dunno, it's a bit garish," Alberto said. "Shrill pink isn't really my thing. And I'm not comfortable wearing it. And it's micro?"
"Just give it a try before you complain. Have a look at the jewelry while you're passing by."
The teen entered the booth wearing a new eyebrow stud. He emerged quickly with no clothes but the poser, which hung pathetically off his boney frame.
Ace nodded. "Clearly, that's not enough clothing. Take this tank top with it."
"Agreed," Alberto said, uncomfortable. "But I'd like a little more cover."
"Try our new line of snapbacks."
When the hat met Alberto's head, he stood up straighter and broader, arms slightly angled off his sides. His face was still the same but his featured appeared harsher.
"And some gloves," Ace said before furiously scribbling on the removed tag.
As Alberto put the gloves on, he began jogging in place. His 61kg/135lbs body couldn't hold the poser by itself so he had to jog with one hand on the hem.
Ace was just done with his writing, when the boy started shouting "Fuck me hard up the ass!" with every other step.
Ace added a line and struck through the previous one. Alberto stopped running and squatted in front of the mirror wall instead.
Every time his 68kg/150kbs went down he shouted his little sentence.
Another line was added to the tag and the old one removed. Now the smooth faced hunk's 74kg/163lbs changed track to do jumping jacks. Despite how big his ass was, the poser kept sliding down and he had to pull it back into place over and over.
It didn't keep his dick and balls from slipping out occasionally but that was perhaps more due to the micro pouch being a bit too small to hold his tiny package.
Line scratched. Line written.
Alberto grabbed the dumbbells next to the mirror wall and did curls while squatting again.
Of all his 80kg/176lbs, his quads bulged the most, followed by the equally buff calves.
Ace was running out of space. He had to write in his tiniest script, his fingers cramping.
Continuing the shouts of "Fuck me hard up the ass!" Alberto put the dumbbells back and realigned his well-fitting posing thong. The tank top got so stretched by the buff pecs that it no longer covered the underwear.
He got started on burpees. While all his 86kg/190lbs mass flexed and bounced like crazy, his package was tastefully non-floppy, instead laying flat inside the micro pouch.
Ace watched the boy with the Powerhole tattoo on his shoulder blades for a few minutes, then turned the tag and kept writing.
Within a few seconds, Alberto interrupted his burpees and shouts to take ten steps toward the exit.
"Hey Alberto, how about a razor or some hair products?"
The teen's hand went up to the Powerhole cap, where all hair was gone, safe for the bushel on top – visible as pink strands shooting out from under the snapback's rim.
"Don't need either. Thanks."
"No problem. I haven't put all these new products up yet but do you maybe want some body oil?"
The bodybuilder teen with glistening skin shook his head. "Already had some."
"Goodbye then."
Alberto left. Ten steps, five burpees, with each one shouting his sentence. His final weight was 93kg/205lbs.
*** Fresh Material 2 ***
Just when Ace thought he was done for the day, a gentle thud told him off the arrival of new merch.
The boxes were filled with Painhole gear.
He couldn't possibly fit more stuff into the Painhole display without layering it. Was Jockhole HQ not aware of his space limitations?
Ace went to the backroom and saw if he could make more space on the shelves. Nope, crammed like an anus during triple penetration.
He returned to the front to find Jagger – a lanky and slouching white boy – sifting through the selection of E-Z-Grow thongs, which by now took up a shelf of their own and existed on all colors of the spectrum.
"Try one on," Ace said. "I can throw in some training gear for free."
"Sure, thanks man," Jagger said and shuffled toward the booth.
Before the shopkeeper could return to the task of sorting the new Painhole gear, he was interrupted by... a child?
Ace focused on the brown skinned, pimple-covered boy and sensed name and age: Kason, seventeen. The boy could have passed for a pre-teen.
Well, Ace was sick of handing out nothing but E-Z-Grow.
"Uh, hi," Kason said, timidly.
"Hey there. I think I have just the thing for you. Try these posers. No wait, better yet, this jockstrap."
Jagger returned, freshly-twinkified. His stunning face was finely-featured with sparkling eyes and dark blond hair. He had the Jockhole label tattooed onto his collar bones.
Kason was visibly intimidated by the beauty and hurried into the booth, accidentally cutting Jagger off from getting his former clothes back.
"So what gear do you have?" Jagger asked.
"Just a second, please," Ace responded, furiously scribbling on two tiny pieces of paper with pencil.
Before long, Kason returned. The Monsterhole tattoo on his lower abs was truly appropriate. He had turned into an ork-like beast easily thrice his original weight.
With his muscles cut like he was made from dark marble, Kason walked along the aisle buff enough to rub his arms on thongs left and right.
His face was clear of blemishes but in some way ugly – his protruding jaw, low brows, open hanging mouth and big ears truly sold the ork aesthetic.
On top of that was his new dick. The red jockstrap simply couldn't hold it. About two inches of the veiny root were exposed, the rest precariously packed into the strained pouch. His balls were plainly visible at the side since the dick pushed the jockstrap away from the body.
Ace threw both of them the same style of tank top. Jagger's torso was easily covered and the cloth hung down to his knees. Kason however stayed with his genitals as exposed as before.
"Either of you interested in a free razor?" Ace asked. "We have other produces like hair dye, too."
The boys looked at each other with their purple (Jagger) and orange (Kason) mohawks and declined.
"How about a different type of gear?" Ace asked and held up a handful of Painhole's freshly delivered chastity cages.
He had examined them quickly beforehand to see how they differed from previous models. They included a cockring to secure the device in place behind the balls and keep it close to the body, they featured urethral tubes with screwable cover to make pissing easy, and they were fixed to the dick head by four piercings.
They were not meant to be removed.
Following the instructions, Ace had turned the urethral tube cover clockwise. When put onto a dick, each turn would add the sensation of having already spent one week in chastity.
He had mixed up the number of screwings for variety.
Both boys said no to the offer, but there were now two dick prisons missing.
For Jagger, no change was visible. His cage had received three turns of the screw, so he believed and felt like he was approaching his first full month.
The sudden change in horniness provoked only a soft sign, before the twink regained composure and stood naturally.
Kason had received the cage on which Ace had gone wild with the screwing. The vendor had lost count somewhere past twenty turns, putting the ork-boy into about half a year chaste.
The teen bodybuilder's mega schlong was now fully hidden inside the jockstrap. Still, his package pushed the pouch away enough to leave the cockring visible.
Kason's eyes rolled back into his head and he whimpered. When he was done shivering, the bodybuilder pulled the surprised twink close and said with a voice-crack-y rumbling, "D'you want an obedient muscle slave to worship you, sir?"
"Um," Jagger said, shrinking away. "No...?"
"You sure?" Kason said, not letting go. "If you fuck an anal orgasm or five out of me, I'll do anything. No limits."
"Actually," Jagger said, "I can't really... I mean..."
Ace interrupted as if he were oblivious to the events. "Let's try these gloves. They make training a lot easier, trust me."
Jagger, eager to escape the horny brute, raced to the counter and slipped into a pair of fingerless gloves.
Kason was right behind him, standing aggressively close, as he took his own pair.
Within seconds, the boys walked to the middle of the store and started doing burpees, facing each other.
Every time the boys completed a motion – the kick-back, the squat, the jump – they shouted "Fuck" at each other.
After each successful complete burpee, they kissed.
Kason didn't need instructions to take it further. He grabbed the twink's crotch after the second round, surprised and disappointed to find the cage.
Someone else entered, quite confused at the sight.
Ace acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"Hello there, are you looking for something specific?"
"N-not really," said the white boy in clothing too hot for the weather.
"Just have a look. Changing booth is over there."
The boy walked into a narrow aisle, as to avoid passing by the "Fuck" shouting, exercising freaks.
He selected a red thong with a yellow star and vanished into the cabin, fiddling with the curtain in hopes of covering more of the opening.
"So, Jagger," Ace said casually. "I think you'd look great in this necklace."
The shopkeeper threw the twink a Painhole neck chain and the boy interrupted his exercise – but not the kisses – to lock it around himself. His Jockhole tattoo was now a Painhole one.
"And for Kason," Ace said, "I'd go with these ankle and wristlets. So stylish. How about body oil to make those muscles shine? Ah, I see you don't need any."
The massive teen superman caught the items out of the air and slapped them onto himself. His tattoo changed as well, which became apparent as he took off his shirt. He had to undress because he only just realized he was glistening with body oil.
The third boy returned, transformed into a confident Made in China jock with thick legs rippling under the thong.
Ace held up a Powerhole cap. "Hey, I think this'd look good on you. What's your name, by the way?"
"I'm Aiguo," said the freshly Chinese teen and put the hat onto himself.
Aiguo's posture snapped into an even straighter one as he gained a new level of cockiness.
He walked over to the exercising boys with an arrogant sneer on his lips. "What are you two sluts doing here? Did the gym kick you out for fagging up the place?"
The exercising duo looked like they were about to collapse from exhaustion so Ace erased the tags.
"Sorry, sir," Kason said, dropping to his knees on the floor. "It's true that I'm a dick craving slut, but I would never get myself kicked out of the gym."
"Are you a couple?" the Chinese boy asked.
"Nope," Jagger said. "We just met. We're both... uh."
Kason grinned. "We're both horny slutty bitch boys looking for a master to wreck us into anal ecstasy."
Jagger blushed hard, despite already being red from exerting himself.
Aiguo nodded, his arms crossed. "I'll give you both a try and..." He looked around. The shopkeeper was suddenly nowhere to be found. "Follow me."
The trio rushed into the booth and Aiguo ordered them to strip. Within seconds, the pain slaves were on their knees and battled for the right to pleasure the master's dick.
To keep things fair, Aiguo snapped Kason's ankle- and wristlets together, so he had only his massive weight to fight, while Jagger got to use both hands.
Neither boy realized that the curtains weren't closed.
Ace watched from two steps distance as Aiguo's round ass flexed in spasms when he shot his load onto both contestants' chests.
He had only lasted seconds. This wasn't a testament to a lack of sexual stamina. Most transformations simply left the participant too horny for his own good.
While the boys cleaned up and prepared to leave, Ace returned to his station and wrote new orders on the gloves' tags. The twink and the monster continued their journey to Aiguo's place with obstacles – squatting every few steps.
Next up: Ace finds an apprentice of sorts and needs to clear out space at the Jockhole.