Ian and His Alpha

LINK TO PART 1

CHAPTER THREE

Ian stood still for a moment, his breath heavy with lust and his cock tenting the panties slightly.

What the hell just happened!

his brain screamed. He'd never said anything like that to anyone - let alone another man - but here he stood, wearing nothing but baby pink panties, aroused and self-satisfied that an alpha male had cum while staring at his body.

Fuck me

he chuckled to himself.

A workout should clear my head.

He gathered up his work clothes and headed for his bedroom, enjoying the feeling of padding around barefoot in panties for a few moments longer. Ian had recently rediscovered running and he found that putting 5k on his legs had a wonderful way to clear out even the foggiest mind. He tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and peeled the little panties off, chuckling with surprise at how natural they'd felt.

He grabbed a pair of black shorts and a tanktop from his drawers, along with a clean pair of the briefs Clark had mandated and some running socks. The briefs were almost universally pastel and bright, but Ian managed to select a blue pair that made him feel less ostentatious.

Still my own man, damnit...

Pleased with himself and feeling more confident now that his lust had faded, Ian headed for the bedroom to dress for his run and suddenly lost his wind. Sitting on the bed was the pile of packages from Clark and the words seared back into Ian's brain:

You've lost your men's underwear, workout clothes, and pajamas privileges for a week due to your talking back.

Shit...

Ian dropped his boy workout gear on the bed and sat down, his brain running a mile a minute.

How am I supposed to run in public in leggings and sports bra? I'm not passable, I'm going to get arrested...

Fuck it, he's not in charge of me.

Ian quickly pulled on the briefs, ignoring the irony that he was following one rule but "rebelling" against another. He dressed quickly and stretched, nervous and scared but mentally cheering himself on.

It's just an internet thing, he can't hurt me for real, just be a man....

He laced up his shoes and stepped out, warming up with a walk before breaking into a normal stride.

See, it's fine...no harm at all

His feat beat a regular stride, his worry about exposure fading with each stride...Until he hit the intersection two blocks from his house. There, stapled proudly among the garage sale and pet sitting fliers, was Ian's naked body, his right hand wrapped around his baby dick, his left hand on his nipple, biting his lower lip.

Ian stared for a long moment while the blood in his body decided if it wanted to go to his head or cock first. His cock won out, instantly becoming diamond hard in his briefs while he snatched the flier off the post and stuffed it in his pocket. <CHIRPCHIRP>

Two weeks now. Go home and change before you finish your run bitch

Ian knew at once he was defeated. He belonged to Clark in every way now and there was no end in sight. It disturbed him even more to find that realization of this seemed to turn him on so much he could barely stand.

Ian walked home briskly, his swollen thumb of a cock rubbing against the slippery briefs and leaving precum stains. He hurried into his door, stripping off the boy clothes and grabbing at his cock hungrily. He pulled up the pics of Clark he had saved, spitting into his palm before jerking off like a horny teenager.

He owns me...fuck

. Ian's eyes rolled back in his head, lost in lust at being the property of an alpha at this level. He moaned, loud and uncontrolled, as his cock dribbled onto the floor after 30 seconds of tugging.

Ian gave himself a moment to get together, using the sticky boy-briefs to clean himself off. Some of the pressure relieved, he headed for the bedroom to try and piece together his new running outfit. He pulled the leggings on with no underwear and found the stretch and compression very pleasing.

No wonder women wore these so often

he thought as he turned towards the mirror, revealing every detail of his smooth little cock and balls.

Probably need undies though

he chuckled, peeling off the form-fitting garment. He shuffled through the panties, finding one labelled SPORT on the packaging. It turned out to be a beige microfiber thong that fit snugly between his cheeks and cupped his tiny package well. Stepping back into the leggings, he was pleased to find the slip of panties had the desired effect, leaving only a tiny bulge in his crotch. He pulled the sports bra over his head and took a moment to appreciate the slim, girlish body in the mirror.

Wow...

he thought for a moment.

That looks really good...

He finished his look with the sports bra and a longer sleeveless tee with wide armholes that did very little to hide it. He grabbed a cap at the last minute, hoping for a little anonymity.

And with that, Ian took a deep breath and stepped outside.

CHAPTER FOUR

To...nothing. Despite his big change, Ian realized it was just another Wednesday evening and no one cared about the femboi in his leggings. He smiled to himself, plugged in his airpods, and set off on his routine. He selected a playlist heavy on Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, and Rihanna in order to stay "in character" and adjusted his pace to a steady rate.

This isn't bad

he thought to himself

and these leggings are fantastic. No chafing, no flapping, just smooth and tight. I'm a little jealous!

He dropped into a zone and reached his usual turnaround point in no time. It was at this point that he realized a potential planning error. A new apartment building was going in on his usual route home and the workers seemed to be in a competition with each other about who could be the most misogynist. On different days, Ian had stopped to laugh a little about their behavior but today, he just hoped they were busy. He paused at the corner to stretch his legs, drew a deep breath, and started down the road.

He drew attention almost immediately. A tall, Latino worker with dad-bod and thick, muscled arms looked up from his toolbox and whistled "Hey mama! Looking fine as fuck today!"

This drew looks and cat calls from the rest of the crew that was sitting nearby.

"What's up cutie?"

"You could workout with me in bed later!"

"Lose the shirt baby, it's too hot out for that shit!"

Ian knew he was fucked even more if he acknowledged them, but he found himself getting increasingly aroused by their looks and words. He paused for a moment and stretched, eliciting a few more whistles. Then, in a fit of naughty, he grabbed the excess material of his shirt and tied it into a crop top to show off his tummy.

"That's my girl! Hot as fuck baby!" came flying out of the worksite, along with more whistles.

Nice

Ian giggled to himself and stole a glance at the workers from under his cap and what he saw caused his breath to catch.

Standing besides the dad-bods and beer bellies was a thick necked, shirtless manual laborer. His body was darkly tanned and quilted with muscle and he gazed unapologetically at Ian's body. The man's gaze caused blood to rush into Ian's cock and he caught himself, running off at a higher than normal pace, while the workers got in their last hits.

The burly worker was all Ian could think of and it left him hard and bulging in his leggings as he tried to run.

Fuck me, what was that...

he thought to himself as he tried to adjust his hardness as he jogged along. As his brain tried to get back into a zone, all that filled his brain was images of the big laborer forcing him over the bed, pulling his leggings and panties down, and entering him, breeding his tight boi-pussy with his thick, sweaty cock. Ian couldn't help himself as he rounded the last corner into his neighborhood. He knew there was an alley a mile before his house with seclusion that he'd use to pee before and he ducked into it quickly.

Finding his secluded spot, his hand plunged into his leggings, grabbing the tiny hardness inside and tugging quickly. He panted, breathing heavy as his 3 fingers worked furiously up and down, his brain full of dreams of being bred by the strong worker. As he pictured the strangers cock filling his boi-pussy with cum, his own tiny dicklet shot fat drops onto the dirty pavement.

Ian panted, tucking himself in and readjusted himself for the rest of his workout.

What's going on with me, that was sex offender shit...and do I care? Do I need cock...

He made it home safely and quickly stripped out of the feminine workout gear, flinging himself naked onto his bed to process his thoughts.

Ok...we're crossdressing now and fantasizing about bottoming for a guy. We know we're bi, so that's ok but why does it feel more natural when I'm wearing that stuff...I don't feel trans, but I don't know?

He grabbed his phone and started googling various gender quizzes. Before he could get too deep though, a text appeared:

Have a nice workout?

How did you get that there so fast?!?

Ian typed back.

People could have seen!

You'd best behave next time then huh?

Ian initially typed back

fuck u

but caught himself.

I guess I better.

Good job Sissy. Now go shower and clean up your shaving. I want to watch.

Yes sir.

What the hell did he mean watch?

He walked into the bath, starting the shower and grabbing a few essential while it warmed up. While he did this, a facetime call chirped and the familiar manly body appeared when he hit accept.

"Put your phone on a ledge where I can see everything. Then go shower."

Ian nodded softly, acutely aware of his naked body, goosebumps, and stiffening dicklet. He framed the shower onscreen then went in, soaping and shaving himself in as sexy of a manner as he could manage. On screen, Clark was massaging his thick cock through his boxers, pleased with the sight of his plaything.

"Good, nice smooth cocklet." Clark praised after Ian had finished shaving. "Now cum for me."

Ian almost protested the abruptness but he knew he had no choice. He turned to face the camera and slowly began to stroke himself while playing with his nipples. Clark responded in kind, pulling his manhood out and stroking it with two hands.

The two men moaned together, each entranced by the other's body as they stroked to completion. Suddenly, Clark grunted "STOP. Don't cum, turn around and show me your tight hole"

Ian obeyed, spreading his cheeks and teasing his hole with a finger until he heard Clark moan in pleasure. He turned around to the now familiar sight of a cum splattered stud on his phone.

"Mmm, good job. New rule - I know you're horny now, but you can't cum tonight unless you do it up your butt. I'm sick of you stroking that little dicklet for pleasure like it's a real dick. It doesn't deserve that and neither do you. Little bitches like you deserve to get fucked." And he terminated the call.

Up my butt? Like my prostate...

Ian thought.

Never tried that before...